#starry screen buddy

[sobredunia]

Hey guys is it just me or are the stars in the sky looking a bit weirder than usual

Alt version + tagging of the creators of all the starlos under the cut

I was messing with this static filter thing and ngl it looks neat

anyways. tagging avalanche time. Left to right up to down

RustyRedemption!Starlo by EldritchDream_ on twitter (THE BODY/PLANT HORROR IS JUST *chefs kiss*) edit: THEY HAVE A TUMBLR THEY HAVE A TUMBLR THEY GET TO SEE THIS LET'S GOOOOO @eldritchdream99 LOOK!! ITS UR SILLY!!!

AntiMatter!Starlo by ghoulishthingz on twitter (I KNOW YOUR NAME NOW FUCKER. v good one ngl it fucks severely)

Hero!Starlo by @zedleaked (he b t-posing baybeyy)

Goldstar by @s0ckh3adstudios (fun fact I named the layer he's on "I miss my husband Tails". also this is the first time i've drawn him. and yet i've drawn utg chujin thrice already which i think says something. not sure what but it says something)

Gilded!Starlo by @moreworldliness (I LOVE HIM SOSO MUCH I JUST WANT HIM TO BE OKAY PLEASE)

VOACT!Starlo by mee :3

Sirius by @here1snyan (I don't need to explain myself you already know how insane this man makes me you've seen the dog art)

Nebula by @llamapear (THE FUCKING GUY OF ALL TIME)

Starry screen buddy by @therealcallmekd (i love his girl outfit i had to draw it)

Fell!Starlo by @pantamonte (he's so silly i want to see him flattened by a steam roller /pos)

Lover's amalgamate by @silverika326 (literally obsessed with this concept you dont even know. ive wanted to draw them for so long)

Devotion!Starlo by @specklx (really proud of how the pose came out ngl. he serves so much cunt)

Apollo by @vastrophel (not exactly a starlo but the design fucks how could i not draw him)

Cat!Starlo by @fivepedal (i lov. kimty :3 )

Starfell by @stringsbasement-vitale (he gives off ACAB vibes you just know he'd be a redswap starlo hater)

Redswap!Starlo by @wist-eri (I'm sorry i had to do it. i have literally never drawn this man in a serious situation/taking the situation seriously and I'm not gonna start now)

Hollow!Starlo by @floataaaa (literally the design of all time i love him)

Alright that's all of them. I have drawn so many stars my god

also. art taglist time

@rotkad @sansxfuckyou @blackfright @beetroot-merchant @ashs-hellhole @h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch

#nathan's notes #art #oh boy time to tag everything #undertale yellow #uty #uty starlo #uty au #ut yellow #rusty redemption #uty hero #utg #undertale gold #sirius starlo #nebula starlo #starry screen buddy #underfell yellow #vitale yellowfell #lover's amalgamate #uty devotion #apollo #cat starlo #redswap #redswap starlo #undertale hollow #hollow starlo #yippee done!! :D #anti matter starlo

[therealcallmekd]

🌟💫 Starry Screen Buddy ! 💫🌟

Just a simple computer program~

Starry the helpful desktop buddy! He can check your emails and tell you silly little facts, among many other helpful little things! Starry's AI is top of the line! He's so responsive it's almost life-like!

Customize his outfits!

and don't worry about the uhh... existential dread.. Call tech support to fix any weird behavior or errors!

. . .

[GUYS I MADE AN ASK BLOG FOR HIM!!! HERE]

#undertale yellow #uty #starlo #uty fanart #uty starlo #uty north star #undertale yellow starlo #undertale yellow north star #north star uty #Starry Screen Buddy #KD'sCrumbs #JusticeInTheUnderground! #yet another au in the pile... yet another #Someone has gotta stop me i have too many at this point

[starryscreenbuddy]

Ya sure look familiar. Here's a question: When there's nothin' happenin', what do you do on yer free time?

" . . . !!!!! "

"YOU! YOU'RE A REAL COWBOY RIGHT?? AH!! SO COOL!!!"

Starry bounces up and down with excitement a bit before realizing a question was asked.

"Oh! sorry... UHM- right right in my free time let's see! I like to watch shows I guess, mostly cartoons... Play games that are installed here.. count the pixels on the screen out of boredom . . . Not much to be honest!

Gee I'm just so thrilled to meet a real genuine cowboy! Wait- the star... A sheriff! Sorry- I didn't notice at first ':> "

Starry is deeply fascinated and intrigued! Especially with the striking visual similarity?

#uty starlo #starry screen buddy #starry speaks #starlo uty #uty north star #[Star to star communication... what shall happen next???!!!] #[THIS IS AWESOME!] #[Starry loves cowboys... he's so silly]

[spellboundspook]

Starry Screen Buddy

Your lifelike digital assistant

(HES SO SILLY GOD I LOVE HIM Starry was made by @therealcallmekd I love this little fella so much go follow his ask blog)

#starry screen buddy #undertale yellow #undertale yellow starlo #uty starlo #starlo #art #my art #undertale oc #oc #fanart

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Rewatching Spiderverse (still good) and I remember most of the stuff that happens but Hobie's "it's a metaphor for capitalism" almost made me snort tea up my nose.

#i talk #I LOVE HIMMMMMM #Spiderman my beloved........ the first superhero I loved.... #still holds a very special place in my heart #and speaking of — everything about Pavitr is so frickin good he's such a good iteration of spiderman #Still love him and Hobie #and every other spiderman iteration but those two are so fresh and new I was very starry-eyed when I first saw them on the screen #awesome fesigns awesome characters #and they're buddies!!! that's sweet #* designs

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Love Sucks IV. The Siren

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

He's just a gloomy, little guy.

It just… happened.

An autumn night, an evening without the younger kids, movies in Nancy’s basement. Jonathan was running late, apologising profusely when he burst in the door to the sound of Eddie’s booing, kernels of popcorn thrown at him from Robin’s direction.

His hair was still damp from a shower, work uniform swapped for fresh clothes and he slumped down in the empty spot beside Steve.

It happened then. In the dim light, in the glow of the television screen. You were beside him, legs thrown over his lap, curled into his side and you smelled like honeysuckle and hibiscus, your fruity shampoo, the leftover scent of sticky butter on your fingers and lips from the popcorn, cherry on your neck from when you spritzed some perfume all of nine hours ago.

Steve could pick out your scent from a mile away, something that smelled like home, the same thing that clung to your sheets and most of his clothes now.

But something else invaded all of it, a sharp tang of metal and warmth, copper pennies and delicious, cutting through the sweet, summery smell of you.

Jonathan.

Steve’s head whipped to the side, eyes wide and mouth watering, the distinctive shlick of his fangs sliding out from beneath his gums. You turned, confused, watching Steve watch Jonathan and then the gentlest kind of chaos ensued.

Steve didn’t attack, he didn’t throw himself onto the other boy, he didn’t snarl or bare his teeth and his eyes didn’t turn crimson, his veins didn’t protrude from his skin.

No. Nothing scary like that.

Not all.

Steve just frowned and gulped, looking at Jonathan with a gaze akin to adoration and he asked, “please?”

The other boy scrunched his face in confusion and was about to ask what the hell Steve was talking about but then the vampire reached out a gentle finger and prodded at Jonathan’s pulse point in his neck, a barely visible thrum under his skin.

“Dude!” Jonathan gasped, eyes wide with surprise and he batted at Steve’s hand, offence written across his face.

Everyone else’s attention had been stolen now, the movie forgotten and Robin looked confused, Eddie was grinning, ready for live entertainment and Nancy was running to the kitchen, yelling something about getting the bottle.

“You smell,” Steve inhaled deeply, crowding into Jonathan who leaned back at a comical degree, head pressed into the cushions and his shoulders shrugged up to his ears to his his chin. “So nice.”

Honestly, you felt a little put out, Steve had never reacted to you with such genuine hunger, a starry look in his gaze, a faraway, dreamlike wonder. But before you could voice your jealousy, Nancy scrambled back into the room with a squirt bottle. She aimed in at your boyfriend and a small jet of water hit him between the forehead.

Steve blinked.

He turned to Nancy, looking even more offended than you, than Jonathan. Eddie cackled around a mouthful of popcorn.

“My hair,” he implored, sulking, irritated.

“Dustin told me this was holy water!” Nancy sounded disgruntled, annoyed but you gaped at her, arms flung wide.

“Holy water? Nance!”

“What!” The girl looked a little guilty but she pointed at Steve all the same, gesturing at how your boyfriend was staring wide eyed at Jonathan, the tiny tips of his fangs poking out from his lips. “It’s fine, it didn’t even work!”

Jonathan swatted at Steve again, crawling over to where Robin was sitting, his knees nudging uncomfortably over her lap and the girl promptly shoved him to the floor.

“It could’ve!” You accused, “what if you’d melted him! What then!”

“Just one little taste?” Steve was following Jonathan around the room, both of them crawling and stumbling over furniture, Eddie’s legs, a stack of video tapes. The bucket of popcorn spilled at your feet. “Jonathan. Jon. Jonny. Buddy.”

“Steve!” You tried to intervene, helpless, but Steve just gazed at you sadly, like you were trying to take away his favourite treat. “Babe, you can’t bite Jonathan.”

“But he smells so good!” Steve tipped his head back, petulant, his voice a soft wail.

“Is Vamp Boy in love with Byers?” Eddie finally stood, giving Jonathan a solid structure to hide behind. The boy peered at Steve through Eddie’s curls, eyes narrowed and suspicious.

“No, he’s not,” you and Nancy said together, both voices hot and impatient.

Steve looked guilty, Jonathan didn’t look convinced and Robin snorted.

Steve walked to the car later that night with his head bowed, skulking behind you like a proper little cryptid, pouty and forlorn. He gazed behind him as you fumbled with your car keys, his eyes trained on the small window at the base of the Wheeler’s house, the one that showed off the warm glow of the basement.

Even from the sidewalk, he could see Jonathan, talking animatedly to Nancy, his fingers pointing to his neck, his facial expression aghast. Steve sighed, world weary and hard done by and he licked his lips.

One day, he vowed.

#I accidentally deleted the original post my bad #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington blurb #Steve harrington oneshot

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Important Bits from Oliver’s Starry Magazine Interview

“He’s just finding more about who he is through these people he loves and has around him.”

About the 100th episode he said, “It a really lovely character driven episode…We get to see the 118 being their fun loving and silly selves. It’s not overly deep. It’s lighthearted and just them having a good time. I don’t know really why it’s called, I guess I know why it’s called that. Obviously the script arrives in my email and I see a title. You know Buck is often getting himself worked up over things and into chaotic situations and uh this 100th episode is certainly no different.

About Buddie: “I just think they have a very open, honest, and vulnerable relationship where you know it’s these two guys in their early 30s who are very sensitive with each other and very open and very in touch with their feelings which is maybe not something we always see. Although I do think it’s becoming more common and uh part of society and encouraged. But yeah no I think we’re certainly at maybe the forefront of that or you know amongst the forerunners in showing that relationship. And I think that’s an important thing to show and we have a really great time working together. And I always think that a big strength of the show me and Ryan, but me and the whole cast, we all love working together and I think it’s felt on screen. The fun and enjoyment we find in each other.”

About overcoming adversity: “I think his willingness to put himself out there. We’ve seen him be hurt physically but more to the point emotionally and mentally. But we’ve never seen his light be dimmed by that. You know he’s willing to pick himself up and go again. Whether that be in search of love or you know whether it be trying to knock down a door to get to save a victim. We haven’t seen him give up many times. I think that for me is an inspiring trait.”

About Maddie’s wedding: “He’s not much help when it comes to planning the wedding. If anything he’s a little bit of a hindrance as I think little brothers often are.”

#buddie #Oliver stark #911 spoilers #it was toooo long to post #so I hope you enjoy my little summary

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) — pt. v

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 5/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Genre: Angst + Smut + Eventual Fluff Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 7k Summary: Some conversations are long overdue. AUs: Older brother’s best friend; fuck buddies that hate each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV?; the return of jeon jungkook; the consequences of their own actions; angsty bits but ending on a good note! A/N: This takes place immediately after the events of pt. 3! FYI, I slightly lessened the age gap between Seokjin and Jimin for plot purposes. The smut will return in the final part, so don't fret ✨ ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

When he left your house earlier that day — left you, at your demand — Jimin went home. He shuffled off to his bedroom, dropped like a stone onto his own mattress, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. 

He was still stuck on the puzzle. Over and over, he replayed the moment he’d kissed you. It was a reflex, not a choice. The way you gazed up at him, starry eyed, from the cushions of your sofa didn’t leave him a choice. And even though he should have regretted it immediately, he didn’t — not until he watched your face warp, not until you pushed him away.

Staring mindlessly up at his ceiling, Jimin struggled to recall what the fuck this was all for — any of it. The distance, the hostility, the rules. The two of you had pushed forward so recklessly and for so long that the starting line was blurry. Everything was, and the harder he thought about it, the dizzier he got.

To ground himself, Jimin closed his eyes and pressed his palms flat against the bed. His fingers grabbed fistfuls of the duvet below, like he might go flying around the room otherwise. Pinched hard between his thumbs and index fingers, he ran the pads of them over the fabric. As he did, he closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deliberately.

What’s the point?

It took a moment, but he felt it when he bent one knee, foot flat against the bed. The point was actually a rounded corner, and it was pressing into his thigh through the lining of his pocket. Despite knowing better, he fished his phone out. Muscle memory guided him through to his mailbox; consistently shitty judgment clicked on the sole message he found there. The rest of him tensed, awaiting impact.

As a general rule, Jimin didn’t hold on to voicemails — if he bothered to listen to them at all. He believed that anyone who truly needed to speak to him would text him if their first attempt went unanswered. Otherwise, they’d blow up his phone until he stopped screening their calls altogether. But he wasn’t great with rules, as he’d recently learned, so there was one exception:

Jimin had no idea why he kept yours after all this time, but he did. 

He played it every now and then; and every time he did, he asked himself why, never arriving at an answer. Self-flagellation was his best guess. After all, no good came from tear-soaked venom, especially not one year after the fact. Knowing better almost never meant doing better, however.

By now, he could likely recite it by memory.

You’re not going to listen to this, but I’ll say it anyway because I didn’t deserve what you did to me tonight, and you deserve to hear it. 

You then take a shallow, shaky breath. 

I’ve spent years — years — waiting for you to be brave. Followed you around like a fucking puppy, and for what? This? 

The crack in your voice is smoothed over by a humorless laugh.

I’ve wasted my own breath defending you to other people when you’re not even there — and I wish I could swallow it all back down.

Then, the coup de grâce:

You are every awful thing people say about you.

For weeks, Jimin beat himself over the head with that last line until he could barely get out of bed. You knew him, knew how much something like that would hurt him — especially when it came from you. Still, you said it anyway, convinced that he wasn’t still the person you thought he was. Back then, two questions spun relentlessly in the back of his mind:

If you wielded that particular knife intentionally, did he really know you? Why would he bother with an explanation or apology when you wrote him off so quickly, so completely?

Groaning loudly, Jimin locked his phone and tossed it onto the mattress next to him just to scrub his hands over his face. It bounced and landed with a smack against the hardwood beneath his bed, but he didn’t flinch. He’d just have to add that to the list of things he’d fucked up lately.

Highest up on that list was breaking the rules of his own mind games. He wasn’t supposed to deviate. All he wanted to do — at the very start — was to hurt you back by proving you right. To finally meet your expectations for him, be every awful thing you said about him in that voicemail. At least, that’s what he thought he wanted. Now, he was left to question his motives. 

Was he unwilling to let that anger go, or was he unwilling to let you go? If it was truly ever about revenge, when did it stop?

Jimin asked himself that question as if he didn’t already know the answer. It stopped as soon as it started: when twenty years’ worth of wondering were over, and he finally knew what it felt like to hold you, even if the circumstances looked nothing like they should’ve.

Fuck.

You should’ve punched him for what he did to you, but you didn’t. The realization hit him instead, so hard that his ears were ringing. It was never you that he hated and it should’ve dawned on him a long time ago that all he’d ever been doing was projecting. He should’ve known that no matter how much he hated himself, he loved you more than that. 

He always had, hadn't he?

“Fucking idiot,” he growled to himself, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to stand. 

Once he pushed himself to his feet, he grabbed his car keys and coat from the place he’d dropped them upon returning from your house. He snatched that fucking phone, too, before heading for the front door to make that same trip again. When he opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide.

Seokjin was frozen with his fist raised to knock. It dropped back down to his side as soon as his surprise wore off. 

He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Got a minute?”

It was a mistake, agreeing to meet up with Jungkook for a boxing class. Following the morning’s events, you were still nursing a bruised elbow and, far worse than that, a slow-to-recover ego. Maybe the real problem was the bitterness that sat on the tip of your tongue and never left, no matter how hard you swallowed. Embarrassment, regret, some third emotion you had yet to categorize. One way or another, you were miserable.

You deserve it.

Exhausted and sweat-slicked, Jungkook sat down next to you on the bench you’d all but collapsed on to. To no one’s surprise, he was in significantly better shape than you; and unlike you, he still had the strength to move his arms. He pulled off his gloves, then he made short work of yours without you even needing to ask.

“I’m still not getting it,” he sighed. 

The two pairs of gloves dropped onto the floor in front of you with a muffled thump that was louder than his breath had been. 

“You’ve been fucking at an alarming frequency for a year, and you’re mad that he kissed you?”

You turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. Incredulous, you huffed, “First of all, what do you mean alarming?”

“I mean bi-weekly — at minimum,” he deadpanned.

This motherfucker.

The earnest, unimpressed look on his face prompted you to jab him in the ribs with your elbow long before you remembered your injury. When you hissed, he rolled his eyes. Then, nudging your shoulder with his, Jungkook’s tone softened. Gently, he asked, “What's actually bothering you?”

“He broke the rules.”

This caught his attention, and he paused. His hands fell motionless in his lap. “Oh,” was all he said. He now knew exactly why you’d been haunting the gym like some sick, sad, Victorian ghost for the past two hours; but judging by the way his brows knit together, he still didn’t have a clue what to do or say about it.

You scooted further back on your seat and pulled your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you’d sat on your living room floor a few hours earlier. Staring intently at the ground, you wondered if there was any way to disappear into the carpet — which someone absolutely should have vacuumed since your last appearance there, but clearly hadn’t. It was quiet for more than a few moments as you and your thoughts got lost in the crop circles of dirt amidst the fibers. 

Eventually, you mumbled, “This whole thing went haywire. It was working so well for so long, and now it’s fucked.”

Jungkook leaned against the wall, head tilted slightly to keep his eyes on you. With the corner of his mouth hitched up, he mused, “Was it really working, though?” 

You blinked dumbly back at him. 

“Is it possible that you weren’t doing this to hurt him? That — and I’m just spit-balling here — you just wanted to keep him around, one way or another?”

The brick in the pit of your stomach was sinking deeper, and its corners were starting to jab you in weak spots you weren’t previously aware of. 

Of course I wanted to hurt him. He hurt me first. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, in part to keep from snapping at Jungkook but largely because you wouldn’t know what to say if you did. He had a point, after all, and that was difficult to reconcile. Why else would you have kept at this little game for as long as you had?

That’s the worst part about a long con, isn’t it? It never, ever ends up the way you’d planned. The more time you invest in something, the harder it is to remember why you bought in to begin with. 

At the outset, you’d absolutely wanted to bring that boy to his knees. You had every intention of letting him fall on his face from there. He was supposed to feel as invisible and unwanted as you did when you sat at that table for two, all alone. Like cellophane, transparent. You were supposed to stay detached; it’s why you had rules in the first place. 

So, why did you keep it going? Why was it eating you up inside when those rules were broken, and you couldn’t? Did you start something, knowing in some hidden corner of your brain that you’d never want to stop?

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dropped your face into your hands and muttered, “Fuck.”

Jungkook, in an attempt to be comforting, slung his arm around your shoulder. His skin was as clammy as yours, instantly causing you to squeal, but he didn’t let you squirm away. Instead, he encircled you, pinning your arms to your sides in the process. He grunted through his laughter, “Let me — comfort — you — you fucking cactus!”

“Hands to yourself, swamp ass!” You warned, still wriggling.

The dangerous look you tried to send him was lost; it crumpled with your face as you laughed hard enough to make your abdominal muscles even more sore. You flailed, but as you tried to get to your feet, his arms constricted. He smiled in that signature Jungkook way — all front teeth and pursed lips — as if caging you in was child’s play.

You whined, “I mean it. I can throw a punch now!”

It took him next to no effort to subdue you completely, leaving you to wonder what the fuck those boxing classes were truly worth. Dejected, you had no option but to slump against him like a rag doll, panting and considering requesting a refund.

“For the record,” Jungkook sighed, “You’re just as gross.”

You scowled even though you faced away from him. “Shut up.”

He glanced down at you. In a matter of seconds, his smirk reappeared on his face. Flexing an eyebrow, he teased, “So, what’s first on your agenda when you get home? Showering or telling Jimin you’re in love with him?”

You knew he said it primarily to fuck with you, that he didn’t mean for it to bruise, but it did. Because, while it was true, that realization didn’t clean up the mess you’d made. It didn’t erase what Jimin did, either, which made things all the more complicated. He knew how much it would hurt — there’s no way he didn’t — and he still didn’t show up for you. 

So, what? 

What difference did it make if you loved him? You always had, on some level; and he didn’t feel the same. He never had. The only difference time had made was that now, you couldn’t remember how to let people in. You locked that part of you in a vault to keep yourself safe, and then you swallowed the key. Even if his feelings had changed, he’d never be able to slip past defenses you yourself didn’t know how to lower. 

And if that was the case, why would he bother trying?

Jungkook suddenly released his hold around you. Startled, you glanced up over your shoulder at him just in time to watch his mouth curve upwards. Unintentionally, yours did too. 

“Seems like there’s an overdue conversation to have, yeah?” He hummed.

You nodded, looking back down at your hands in your lap.

“Just — please, shower first. You are ripe.”

When you were nine, your parents enrolled you in dance classes at a local studio. They said that you had more energy than they knew what to do with, that a physical outlet for it all would be good for you. And even though Seokjin was fourteen at the time, he knew better. He knew that decision had nothing whatsoever to do with you.

The truth — which he was sure you realized now — was that your parents needed somewhere to put you on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

That year was the first in which Seokjin’s soccer team was worth watching. So much so, in fact, that they’d made it to the quarterfinals of a local tournament. He knew it, even back then, that it was meaningless; just a group of shithead teens vying for a trophy they’d sell at a garage sale the following summer. More importantly, he knew that kind of thought isn’t one a ninth-grader should have to have. Your parents didn’t seem to get it, so, he figured, someone should.

They were present for every practice —  every Tuesday and Thursday — without fail. They cheered through all of them as if it was the final they were watching, not Seokjin running drills in a bright purple practice jersey. Then, when practice was over, they’d shower him with praise that a fourteen-year-old should’ve basked in. Every time, he’d have to cut them off and remind them of the empty seat next to his in the back of the minivan. Someone needed to notice when you weren’t around.

He was good at that, nudging them, even though he shouldn’t have had to be — and he only fucked up once.

On one drive home, he was too engrossed in his Nintendo DS to think twice when his parents asked him to choose between grabbing dinner with them and going home. Seokjin chose the latter; they dropped him off and headed out to whatever restaurant they’d chosen.

After an hour, he wandered to the kitchen to eat whatever the fuck he wanted to for dinner. His head was buried in the refrigerator when a loud knock at the front door scared him so badly that he smacked his head against a shelf, cursing loudly without any adults nearby to yell at him for it. Confused, he shuffled off towards the foyer, glanced through the peephole, and shoved the door open.

It didn’t make sense, Jimin appearing on his doorstep without calling first. That is, until Seokjin saw you clinging to Jimin’s hand with wet eyes and a trembling lip.

“Forgot my water bottle and went back for it, saw her sitting by herself on a bench outside the studio,” Jimin explained through gritted teeth.

He could’ve dropped your hand at any point after walking you from the studio to your house, but he held it still. “Hyung, she was out there for an hour.”

Seokjin was fourteen the first — and only — time he dropped you. Jimin, at just twelve, was there to pick you up. 

Now, well over a decade later, it was Seokjin standing on Jimin’s doorstep. Though the two of them had grown significantly since then, the reason for the sudden drop-in hadn’t changed. Everything else aside, they would always have that one thing in common: You.

“Hyung, do you —” Jimin had barely said a word, and yet he was already stammering. If his eyes bugged out any further, Seokjin worried he’d have to clean them up off the doormat. “D’you wanna come in?”

The youngest stepped to the side, opened the door wide enough for the eldest to slip into the entryway. All the while, it looked like he was actively working to not shit himself. Thankfully, Seokjin had been inside more times than he could count, and he knew his way by heart: straight to the refrigerator to grab two beers.

He tossed one to Jimin, whose nerves nearly made him fumble it. The can smacked into his chest when his hands lagged behind, coming to life just in time to prevent it from free-falling to the floor.

“So,” Seokjin started.

He cracked open his beer without taking his eyes off Jimin, or letting a single emotion register on his face. It might have been a shitty thing to do, but he’d always loved watching Jimin squirm; and this was the most uncomfortable he’d seen his friend in decades.

“Anything you want to tell me, or should I just go for it?”

Jimin’s jaw clenched tightly enough that Seokjin could practically see the blood flowing through the vein protruding from his neck below. Clearly, he was trying to find his words. Lucky for him, Seokjin wasn’t known for his patience. He took over without wasting another second.

He sighed, “I always suspected that you were an idiot, but I didn’t know you were this dumb.”

Dead silence, save for what might’ve been all of Jimin’s synapses sizzling at once.

“No, seriously,” Seokjin snorted. Eyebrow raised, he lifted his hand and gestured to Jimin with his beer. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so concerned.”

Jimin’s forehead crinkled as he attempted to catch up. “I — what?”

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Seokjin dropped down into his usual stool at Jimin’s kitchen counter. Elbow to granite, he propped his cheek onto the heel of his hand. 

Really, he hoped that years’ worth of friendship meant that Jimin could buffer a little fucking faster. The open-mouthed gawking indicated otherwise, to Seokjin’s dismay. Annoyed that his beautiful mind wasn’t being telepathically read, Seokjin groaned. “You think I throw that fucking Valentine’s Day party every year for — what, my health? My girlfriend only likes me half the time, man. Come on.”

Jimin simply blinked in response, like it was all his brain could manage.

“I’ve been trying to push the two of you together for years,” Seokjin huffed. “I’ve expended so much effort that I should be financially compensated, frankly, but that’s beside the point."

At the rate Jimin’s mouth was opening and closing, Seokjin could’ve easily mistaken him for a caught fish, gasping for air. Nevertheless, he persisted. "I even conned you into playing chauffeur this last time, thinking that maybe that would do it — and you waited another half a year to make a move? Babo.”

The confusion eventually gave way to something unreadable, though, right before Jimin’s hand raised. He landed a swift smack on Seokjin’s bicep with a growl before Seokjin could even think to brace himself. 

“Are you kidding?” Jimin shouted.

Oh, you’re mad mad.

Jimin kept swatting, punctuating every word with a hit. “You’re — you — fuck!” 

He gave up with a yell and slammed his fists down on the countertop, making Seokjin jump. Just as quickly, Jimin crumpled at the center, doubled over so that his entire upper body rested on top of his folded arms. His forehead dug into the knuckles of his thumbs, which curled around tightly clenched fists. Though Jimin had squeezed his eyes shut, Seokjin could make the educated guess that he was seeing red.

“First of all, what the fuck was that?” Seokjin scoffed.

In a flash, Jimin’s eyes cracked open. Instead of anger, there was something else buried there. Something sobering that made Seokjin’s stomach turn. He felt even worse when Jimin spoke again, sounding outright defeated:

“That shit you said about Chan and his sister,” Jimin grumbled, mouth unable to move fully with the way he’d slumped. “What was I supposed to take from that?”

Seokjin was at a loss, so he took a swig of his beer and swallowed it with a sigh. “What shit? I haven’t talked to Chan in — fuck —  year or so now.”

Jimin stood up just enough to press his palms to the countertop, head still hanging while he leaned. “About me being lucky that he didn’t make me swallow my teeth?”

Oh.

Fuck.

Seokjin frowned. For as long as he could remember, his love language had been fucking with people. With you, with Jimin, and with Jungkook, once he popped into the picture. There was a silent understanding that his little pranks and digs were a sign of affection. If he didn’t mess with someone, it was safe to assume that he didn’t give a shit about them. 

Until now, he hadn’t thought twice about that conversation with Jimin because it wasn't any different than every other conversation they’d ever had. Clearly, he’d struck a nerve he never intended to aim at. Goddamnit.

He grimaced. “You held off because of me?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, then he sank down on to the stool on the opposite side of the counter. Incredulous, he scoffed, “Was I supposed to see that as a green light?”

Seokjin didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He nursed his beer in silence, eyes downcast. Jimin, of course, had a point. Several, it seemed, because he continued, “You and your sister are adept at kneecapping people, whether or not it’s intentional.”

It was a direct hit, as far as Seokjin was concerned. He wasn’t the best at reading the room. On the other hand, you were always extremely sensitive to other people’s feelings. It was this consideration that prompted him to raise an eyebrow and ask, “What do you mean?”

Jimin swallowed hard. Whatever he wanted to say was visibly lodged in his throat, unwilling to budge. To help knock it loose, Seokjin — gently — smacked the center of Jimin’s back, right between the shoulder blades. His efforts earned him a scowl, but then an admission.

“Hyung, I fucked it up. Bad.” Jimin scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to hide.

Seokjin kept his expectant eyes fixed on him, silently pressuring him to keep talking.

“I blew her off a year ago because I’m chickenshit, and she still hates me for it. So, I’m sorry to say that the ship has fucking sailed — and then I capsized it — and now I’m drowning.”

Deep in thought, Seokjin turned his head away from Jimin to stare into the middle distance. He needed contemplative silence — or, if nothing else, to look pensive — but he found an out instead. Sitting on top of the counter on the far side of the kitchen was a toolbox. As he stared at it, the sound of Jimin’s ongoing melodrama gave way to gears turning.

“If I could talk to her, I think I could fix it, but that’s the problem —”

Blah, blah, blah.

Above all else, Seokjin was pragmatic. A schemer, always one step ahead. He raised his hand to cut Jimin off mid-monologue and asked, “You know anything about plumbing?”

Your drive home from the gym took twice as long as your drive there. Flying on autopilot, your eyes stuck to the road, and your hands went through the motions of turning the wheel, but your mind wasn’t in the car with you. If it was, you likely wouldn’t have driven past your freeway exit, not once but twice. 

Unfortunately for you, your inability to focus only got worse as heavy raindrops hit your windshield. Before you knew it, the smattering evolved into sheets so substantial that the drum of fallout against the metal roof left you somewhere close to hypnotized. Mind otherwise blank to your surroundings, all you could think about was Jimin and the steps you’d have to take next. 

Obviously, playing stupid games won you stupid prizes. If you kept it up, you’d shatter; and as far as you could tell, a clean break from him was the only thing that might keep you in one piece. You had to shut it all down, crawl back into your bunker, and wait it out. Resurface, maybe, when you stopped wanting him.

When it was safe. 

After nearly missing your street, you managed to wind up in your own driveway. Despite reaching your destination, you couldn’t peel yourself out of your seat. The umbrella tucked into the side compartment of your passenger door could’ve gotten you to your front door without too much trouble, but the threat of getting drenched wasn’t what pinned you down. It was the fact that, once again, you were the butt of some cosmic joke. A bookend.

Your first night with Jimin looked just like this one. How fitting that the ending would be waterlogged, too.

Before you could sink into that pit of nostalgia, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached across the passenger seat for your umbrella. It fought you on the way out of its resting place, snagging against the lip of the molded plastic and threatening to rip. With one last, careful tug, you freed it. You opened your door with your left hand while unwrapping the velcro band with your right.

The effort was ultimately useless. The rain pelted the pavement with such force that it ricocheted, like it was raining from the ground up. Your socks and shoes were soaked within seconds, squelching with every step as you scurried up the path to your doorstep. For once, the universe sided with you and allowed you to unlock your door on the first attempt, rather than the third.

“Motherfucker,” you muttered to no one as you skidded, dripping, over the threshold.

Dumping your umbrella next to your hastily discarded shoes, you tossed your keys onto their designated hook and made a beeline for the shower, shivering as the rush of air cooled your wet skin. As you went, you fought for your life against your soaked sweatshirt, which had all but doubled its weight on your trek in from the car. The combination of its heavy fabric and your laughably sore muscles had you panting before your feet found the tile floor they sought.

Of course, that was cold, too. 

You hissed, “Motherfucker,” while slamming the door shut behind you. After chucking the remainder of your clothes in the general direction of your over-filled hamper, you bent down and turned the shower handle as far to the left as it could go. You might have ended up melting your skin off your body, but at least that chill in your bones would be gone.

You couldn’t put your finger on it right away, but something was different. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, you glanced between the shower head and the drain, like staring intently enough would reveal some sort of secret. Eventually, it clicked. 

It alarmed you that nothing alarmed you. Aside from the stream hitting the floor, it was quiet. No groaning, no ominous clanking or sputtering — just water, unaccompanied, at the temperature you asked for.

“What —?” Your voice trailed off before you could finish talking to yourself.

For eighteen months, you sent consistent, increasingly angry, written notices to your landlord, begging him to fix whatever was wrong with your plumbing. At the very least, you wanted him to look into it and confirm you weren’t just hallucinating. He ignored you, time and again, until you’d given up entirely. Of course, he waited until then to do something, like it was out of the goodness of his own heart and not the result of your incessant nagging. 

And — exactly as you expected — it took him no time at all to fix it. Less than the duration of your occasional cameo at the gym.

Unable to stop yourself, you rolled your eyes and scoffed as you stepped into the shower, letting the frustration evaporate with the steam. It left you with a sigh that bordered a moan, so surprising and genuine that you embarrassed yourself. “Oh, fuck.”

You’d almost forgotten what it felt like, showering with adequate water pressure and without groaning pipes. It was perfect. If you could have, you would’ve stayed there for the rest of the night, ignoring the consequences waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Maybe, you thought, you could watch it all slip down the drain — the dread, all those feelings you never consented to having. You could hide there and scrub yourself clean of the mess you’d made while trying to fix yourself. The hot water supply didn’t support your plan, however, and your hour of boiling yourself like a dumpling came to a tragic, increasingly chilled end. 

Faster than you ever had before, you yanked a towel off the nearby rack, encircled yourself with it, and hopped out onto the bath mat. Unlike earlier that day, you intended to rip the metaphorical bandage off quickly. You wanted to thrust yourself out into the hallway before you could get too comfortable in the holdover warmth inside the bathroom. That intention didn’t get you far, though.

As soon as you turned for the door, you saw the note taped to the back of it. The moisture had made the ink bleed slightly, but the message was still legible. In handwriting you could easily pick out of a lineup, it read: 

Hope I didn’t make it worse. Should I send the bill to your landlord? Also, you really need to find a better spot for your spare. Not safe!  — J

Motherfucker.

Jimin was elbow-deep in dishes when he heard something resembling a thump.

At the rate the storm had kicked up outside, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the wind overturned his garbage can, or knocked a branch loose from the tree looming over his front porch. Whatever it was, it was muffled under the rush of water spilling out of the sky in waves. So, he shrugged and went back to scrubbing the pan he’d used to make dinner.

When the last remnants of his meal were washed away, he used the back of his wrist to push the faucet lever down. Without the additional flow of water, he heard that noise again — louder now, pace almost frantic. His brow furrowed as he pulled off his dish gloves. He hung them carefully over the faucet to dry, then he turned to investigate the source of the sound.

The closer he got to the front of his house, the clearer it became that the noise had nothing to do with the weather. In fact, if he had to bet, Jimin would’ve guessed it was Seokjin showing up unannounced for the second time that day.

“Hyung, I know you love me, but why are you —” Jimin started to whine as he flicked the porch light on and jerked the door open. “— So needy?”

He should’ve known better by now than to make guesses. It never, ever ended up being the Kim he expected.

Instead, it was you, dripping so thoroughly that you may as well have been melting. Your hair was windswept in every direction with wayward pieces of it sticking to your cheekbones. As much of a mess as you were, he couldn’t help but think that you looked beautiful this way, too. If it weren’t for that look on your face, he would’ve reached out to push some of those strands back, away from your eyes.

Oh. 

You were crying.

Suddenly panicked, he opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“Why did you do it?” You demanded. The tremor in your voice didn’t match the scowl on your face. “I deserve to know why.”

His eyes widened, eyebrows rising steadily as he cobbled together a response. “Your plumbing is garbage and so is your landlord.” He held up his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry for letting myself in, but I didn’t think you would —”

“No,” you interrupted, voice cracking. 

The fist you’d used to bang on his door unfurled slightly, leaving one finger to point accusingly at him. The gesture had him pinned in place, as if you were brandishing a gun instead.

“Why the fuck would you ask me out if you were just going to bail on me? Why — You didn’t even answer the phone.” You were one breath away from sobbing, but you pressed on. “You can’t do that and then do what you did today. You can’t. It’s not fucking fair.”

Before he could do anything — say a word, let you inside — you spun sharply on your heel to leave.

For once, he didn’t react too late. He grabbed your hand and kept you from slipping away. You paused, unsure of what to do with his touch, and refused to look back until his other hand landed gently on your shoulder. He couldn’t help the relieved sigh that slipped out of his mouth when you let him turn you back around.

You didn’t look up at him at first, which Jimin guessed was an attempt to hide away. Making yourself invisible wasn’t something you used to do on purpose, so watching you do it in real time made him ache. Try as you might, it wouldn’t work on him. He’d always known where to look to find you.

“Come inside?" He wasn’t above begging, so that’s precisely what he did. "Please.”

Your eyes lifted from your shoes to glance between Jimin and your car in his driveway. While he didn’t blame you, it stung like hell to know he’d turned you into someone inclined to run. He would’ve let it happen, if that’s what you wanted — dropped your hand and watched you go — no matter how much he wanted you to stay.

But you didn’t leave. 

There was a microscopic nod, then you followed him over the threshold. Once the door shut behind you, Jimin let go of your hand so you could take off your shoes and jacket. He took the latter and hung it from the nearby hook, then he asked, “Do you want something of mine to wear? I can throw yours in the dryer.”

You shook your head, unwilling to let yourself be any more vulnerable than you had been already. You lied, “I’m fine.”

Jimin frowned, but he didn’t push you. Instead, he let you take the lead, falling in step behind you as you made your way to his kitchen. Unlike Seokjin, you didn’t take to rummaging through his refrigerator; you simply stood in the corner of the counter and held yourself with crossed arms.

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin took a seat on the opposite side and waited — for what, he wasn't sure. Some sort of sign, yelling, anything. All he got was quiet, save for the sniffling you couldn’t mask. You weren’t even looking at him.

Fuck it. Here we go.

“I can’t give you an excuse because there isn’t one,” he started. “All I have is an explanation, and even that’s shitty.”

This caught your attention. There was a small flicker of amusement in your eyes, though it was gone as soon as it appeared. It was encouraging, even if it was brief.

“You were right when you called me a coward. Fucking childish, too, but I’m not going to sit here and recite the laundry list of things I hate about myself because that doesn’t constitute an apology — that’s just bullshit, and I’ve put you through enough of that.”

Looking at the hurt broadcasted on your face made his throat tight, so he cleared it and prayed he could keep himself together long enough to spill everything he’d been holding back. To keep his focus, he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. It wasn’t lost on him that the one he gravitated towards was the one you’d gifted him on his birthday several years prior.

There were pieces of you scattered over every surface of his life, his body included.

Fuck.

“Nobody that loves someone should treat them the way I treated you. I fucked it up — all of it — and I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, expression shifting slightly from hurt to something unreadable. With a shaky sigh, he added, “I should’ve said it a year ago, and I’m sorry for that, too.”

The silence that followed spread like smoke, clouding the space between you. Maybe that’s why he struggled to regulate his breathing. That, or the crushing weight of anticipation on his chest while he waited for you to react — to yell, to leave, to do anything.

To his surprise, what he got was a whisper.

“Why didn’t you?”

Jimin’s eyes switched focus from his hands to your face. He expected to find something accusatory there, but he didn’t. If anything, you looked almost expectant, like you knew the answer before you asked but needed to hear him say it. He didn’t want to — it seemed so trivial now — but he'd gotten sick of not giving you what you wanted, so he answered, “Your voicemail.”

You nodded slowly, thoughtfully, while you processed your response. A few more leaden seconds of silence passed before you finally spoke.

“I wanted to hurt you. I knew exactly what to say to do it, which is…” Your voice trailed off as you searched for your next words. “Unhinged." You shook your head quickly and amended, "No, it’s worse than that. It’s — it’s fucking abhorrent, that's what it is.”

Despite himself, Jimin couldn’t bite back his smile. He whistled. “That’s a big word.”

“You are being so unserious right now,” you scolded him. You scowled and put your hands on your hips like some disciplinarian parent — it was futile. Jimin could see you pressing your lips together to keep your laughter inside, clear as day. “Can you let me finish atoning, please?”

“Can I grab a dictionary first?” He countered with a smirk. 

Instantly, your incredulousness washed from your widened eyes to your mouth, which fell open. “I swear to God —”

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine, fine. I’m listening, okay? I swear.” You just glared at him, so he said it again. “I promise. Please keep going.”

You took a deep breath and spit the rest of it out quickly, likely expecting him to interrupt you again. “I wanted to hurt you, and there is clearly a part of me that is fundamentally unwell because I didn’t just leave it at that.”

This was a twist he hadn’t seen coming, and it left Jimin thoroughly confused. Head tilted and eyebrows furrowed, he asked, “You didn’t?”

“No,” you sighed. Sheepishly, you scrubbed your hands over your face. They lingered, intentionally or not, as if you were building another wall between the two of you. “I wanted to string you along, make you want me, and then cut you loose.”

Your head drooped, defeated. “I told you. Deeply unwell.”

Jimin was stunned, but not for the reason you seemed to think. His brain buffered, slowing his speech while he tried to process the situation. “You were toying with me?”

In a flash, your gaze snapped up to meet his. Bewildered was the only word he could think of to describe the look on your face. He couldn’t help it; he laughed, “That’s what I thought I was doing.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you wailed, throwing your head back.

Without watching where you were going, you still managed to successfully crumple onto a stool. From there, you deflated fully onto the countertop, limbs spread out and cheek flush against the granite. You muttered, “I hate us. I really do.”

Jimin mumbled in agreement, too stupefied to comment further. Several minutes passed that way, silently, as you each attempted to piece together the thing you’d — unknowingly, jointly — blown straight to hell. 

“Jimin?”

You startled him for two reasons, the least of which being the suddenness of your voice in all that quiet. More than anything, it was your unexpected use of his name. His given name.

After a year of you calling him exclusively by his family name, Jimin was ready to assume that you’d forgotten what followed it. It sounded like a foreign language to him now, so much so that he had to pause to make sure he heard you correctly.

Barely audible, you admitted, “I don’t know why I am the way I am. And I don’t know how to do this — to want this. Not properly, anyway. Not yet.”

So, you did hear him earlier. 

He didn’t necessarily mean to confess that fact with the rest of his sins. In fact, he was content to let it dissipate when you didn’t acknowledge it floating out there. He didn’t need you to say it back, or even feel it; he just needed to let it out of the cage he’d kept it locked in. And once he did, he pushed past it so quickly that he genuinely believed you might’ve missed it, but you didn’t.

You heard him, and you didn’t leave.

“Can we go back to the beginning?” You asked, sitting upright and turning your head to look at him fully. “We both have so much shit to work through, but I —”

“Hi,” he interrupted. 

You blinked, caught off guard. Arm extended, he reached over the counter and held his hand out to you. Cautiously, you accepted it, smile spreading slowly when he shook it, and you finally caught on. 

“I’m Jimin.”

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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#jade writes #re: menace #pjm #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts angst #bts smut #park jimin #jimin #park jimin angst #park jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin smut #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fic #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #trashlibrary #btsafterdarknet #micdropnet

[darkwaveho]

Ok reading starry nights just got my head swirling with ideas huehuehuehe WHAT IF, in the universe where Reader sold Nat out to Monica, after Nat finally brakes Reader down she actually BREAKS Reader, and just like in Starry nights she becomes a shell, but worse, and this time nothing Nat does can bring Reader back bc she's basically dead inside? Basically pure angst

Whoa wow pure angst? you might have to be my angst buddy lol let's see what I can come up with. sorry if it's trash 😭

Damage Control

Limbo

summary: Things were supposed to get better after the torture you endured and reconciliation you and natasha had, but things only got worse. so much worse that it ended up with you being at the point of no return.

Pairings: Mob!natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: 18+ Pure Angst (I don’t know how bad it is bc I wrote it but yeah💀) drug use, use of needles and other heavy dark themes.

"Can you sit up for me sweetie?" Nora coos at you as you lay in bed staring blanky up at the ceiling. after everything that happened with you turning Natasha in. Yelena dragging you back here and being held captive in the basement took a heavy toll on you. the torture, the isolation and just being treated like a piece of tarnished property. your leg never went back to one hundred percent and eventually after everything faded you stopped wanting to walk around, you stopped talking, you stopped taking care of yourself.

now you stay in this room, once again in isolation, but this was chosen isolation. the only fresh air you get is if Nora, Nat or Yelena place you in a wheelchair and sit with you in the backyard or take you for a walk. she sighs as you continue to drift off into the depths of your mind. she helps you sit up and you don't help ease her straining figure as you let her do all the lifting. she adds more pillows behind you and tucks the napkin into the collar opening of your shirt.

"How about you try eating something. hm?" she holds the bowl of applesauce and inches the spoon closer to your lips. she waits for you to part them. if she couldn't get you to do anything she could get you to at least eat the applesauce but not this time. time your lips stay shut. if she wanted to, she could try to force feed you but what good would that do? she hates seeing you like this, and she feels guilty for not trying to help you escape that day you begged and pleaded with her in that containment box downstairs. she inhales and exhales deeply. puts the spoon in the bowl and sit the bowl on the side table. “I have something else I think you might want; I’ve been holding off on it.”

-------------

“I’m going to run to the store, y/n is sleeping.” Nora stands at the door with her purse and her coat as Natasha sits in the living room. Natasha waves her off as intensely searches for something that could help you pull through this state. Natasha was too deep down the rabbit hole of google to notice the redness to Nora’s eyes. Nora nods and moves as fast as her feet will allow her to, she wasn’t coming back. she’s getting far away from here as possible. A few hours after Natasha gets frustrated and bored with burning her eyes from the computer screen, she goes upstairs to check on you. You should be awake by now. she’s proven wrong when she enters the shared bedroom to find you still sleeping. 

The side of your face buried into the pillow. Natasha crawls on to the other side of the bed and places a little kiss to the temple of your head. “You need to get better for me.” She places her head on the pillows and snuggles closer to you pulling your body back into hers. alarms go off in her mind when she doesn’t feel the rise and fall of your chest. “Y/n?” No response. “Can you wake up for me?” She sits up with more concern. Her heart pounding out of her chest. “Baby?” she presses her fingers against your neck desperately trying to feel your beating pulse. she receives nothing in return. she scrambles to grab her phone. shaky hands press the screen as she dials Nora first it goes straight to voicemail no dial tone whatsoever. she yells for her sister, clint, bucky anybody to come and help her breathe life back into you. 

Of course, she would be in denial about you being gone and leaving her. the group rushes into the room to find Natasha delirious and a sobbing mess. they couldn’t understand a word she was saying until they all fully entered the room to see you laying limp and unconscious against her chest. she rocks back and forth in the bed muttering “wake up” and “Don’t leave me” Yelena doesn’t believe it either as she grabs her phone to call for an ambulance. it takes clint and bucky to get through to both sisters that you’re gone and you’re not coming back. One thing is for sure neither one of them would be the same ever again. you were the other half that completed the both of them. now they’ll forever have an empty feeling within their hearts.

---------

“Y/n I can make the pain go away.” Nora brings the needle to your eye level; “it’s going to be as painless as possible though I doubt it would be any less painful than the things you’ve already endured.” she holds your hand in a tight grip. “You’ll go peacefully. You can be free, if you want that I need you to blink twice.” She wipes the fallen tear from your cheek when you respond to her by blinking twice. this pains her to do this to you, but she doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. “Okay, sweet girl.” She prepares everything and cautiously inserts the needle into your skin and injects you with the mysterious drug. 

“You don’t have to fight anymore, I’m sorry for not protecting you like I should’ve.” the only response she gets is the feeling your weakened hand squeezing hers. and deep shallow breath you take. she sobs. both happy and sad tears. seeing you smile for the first time in months. you’ve finally snapped out of this state but at the cost of no return. she leans in to kiss your forehead. as she tries to lean away from you; you hold her tighter signaling for her to stay where she is. “I- I love.” she nods her head frantically knowing what you’re saying. she shushes you. “I know baby girl, I know. I love you more.” your words become fainter and slurred. 

“T-tell Lena” your voice breaks this time at the mention of your best friend, you still loved her even after the bullshit she played a hand in putting you through. “I’ll tell her.” she rubs your face gently. “Now, close your eyes and get some rest, your dad is waiting.” you close your eyes. that was all it took your last word comes out as a ghostly whisper. “Dad.” Nora has to hold back loud scream that threatened to alarm Natasha seeing you in your last moments. she’s grateful that she got to make up with you before you left this earth. you were free. no longer stuck here. no longer suffering and no longer in limbo.

#damage control au #natasha romanoff x reader #Drabble #mob!natsha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst

[prismaticpichu]

Because I know you've at least had ideas about this:

Zack convinces Sephiroth to play Mario Galaxy. He did not think about the library that could potentially spark an early Nibelhiem incident.

SPACE MOM OH YEAHHHHH!!!!! (The prompt is phenomenal shhshshde thank you!)

~~

The two get into a groove almost immediately after the disc is inserted, with Sephiroth absolutely enthralled by the game’s celestial coating and Zack absolutely overjoyed that his buddy seems to like it. Seph is a quick learner too, grasping the controls and objectives as easy as pie, meaning they’re able to slide right into a comfortable system wherein control is alternated after each galaxy–Zack’s turns being nothing short of pacifist runs while Sephiroth finds catharsis in obliterating bloodless enemies. Time becomes nebulous as they play for hours on end, steamrolling through the levels and reaping the planets dry of star bits. They get into such a smooth rhythm, in fact, having such a blast zipping through galaxies, that they shoo away the pesky little pop-up that appears every time they collect a Power Star.

This eventually culminates in the credits rolling, Sephiroth not wanting it to end, and Zack remembering that they’ve yet to explore the library. 

It also means they read the story all in one sitting. Hooooooo boy.

 

Chapter 1 

“How many chapters are there?” Sephiroth quirks an eyebrow, reading the chalky text fading onto the screen. “And what is this music? A toddler’s lullaby?”

 “Oh hush, bud.”  Zack presses the button to continue. 

Our story begins a very, very long time ago with a young girl. One day, this girl spotted a rusted spaceship holding a small star child.

“She seems very nonchalant about it,” Sephiroth grunts, must having to point out the obvious. Now that is just ridiculous. He could accept the space bunnies, and the turtle’s quest for intergalactic domination, and even the whole bee persona (that one was still weird)—but to make him suspend his disbelief to the point where a little girl wouldn’t run away screaming in terror? What kind of little girl was this?

“Some people love the unknown, y’know?” Zack shrugs with a grin, flimsily answering his questions. “I’d totally check out a spaceship if it crashed in my backyard.” He doesn’t wait for party pooper Seph to counter that statement before flipping the page.

And there, pressing that single A button, may have just been one of the top ten worst mistakes he’s ever made.

"What's your name? Are you lost?" the girl asked the star child.

“I'm Luma, and I'm waiting for Mama. She's coming for me on a comet!" said the star child, who had been waiting day and night.

Uh oh.

Sephiroth’s chest twists at the words—the word—appears on the screen before him. It’s not a complete knot yet, not something tethered to the point of constriction. But it’s there. And he feels it.

“You okay, bud?” Zack blinks towards his friend, seeing the discomfort. “Do you wanna—“

“Keep going,” Sephiroth orders tautly. “It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, but not wanting to disobey his buddy, Zack flips the page.

“Don't worry. I'll wait with you," the little girl promised Luma. 

At nightfall, the little girl borrowed her father's telescope and peered into the sky. She looked and looked, but she saw nothing. Hours turned into days and then years, but still the sky revealed nothing.

Finally, the little girl sighed and said to Luma, "If we stay here looking much longer, I'll be an old lady soon."

But then she had an idea.

"Why don't we go out there and find your mother ourselves?"

The girl and Luma fixed up the rusty spaceship, and then the two set sail into the starry sky.

And this is how the search for the celestial mother began.

The word is almost ghostly on Sephiroth’s lips, almost like he isn’t even registering that it left them. It just cracked from his voice. Splintering from his heart.

“…Mother?”

By now Zack really notices the glazed look in Sephiroth’s eyes. He sets down the controller and scoots closer. Ifrit darn it… he knows the topic of family is an unhealed, sore, and raw subject for Seph. Why on Gaia would he ever make Seph play this part of the game? What kind of friend is he? A trashy one, that’s for sure.

“Hey, hey.” Zack wraps an arm around his buddy’s shoulders. “We don’t have to play anymore.”

“No,” Sephiroth protests. “I’m… intrigued by this story.” And he is. There’s a rift in him that has opened, a curiosity unveiled deep inside. A seed being planted by unseen hands.

Zack blinks, just as hesitant as before. But then he lets a smirk eclipse his face. “Even with the stupid opening?”

Sephiroth’s gaze floats towards him, staring longly. Numbly. Though a few blinks and the glass melts away, his friend’s words sink in, and a ghost of a smirk plays on his own lips. “I can forgive it.”

“Well okay then.” Zack scoops up the controller, ready to resume the game, but not before handing his pal the metaphorical wheel. “Just stop it whenever you want.”

Maybe it’s because of the arm wrapped around his shoulder, or the soothing music, but the next chapter turns out to be a much smoother ride. Seph even gets his devoid sense of humor back!

Chapter 2 

Before they left, she had packed all the essentials: telescope, butterfly net, stuffed bunny, bread, milk, jam, and apricot-flavored tea, but…

“I believe she needs some source of oxygen,” Sephiroth points out.

"I forgot to bring water!"

Or that.

At this, Luma burst into gales of laughter, and the girl began to pout.

"As long as I have Star Bits, I'll be fine," said Luma. "Want some?" The little girl couldn't stay mad after hearing this.

Luma continued to laugh, and the girl couldn't help but join in.

"All right, maybe just a nibble."

Leaning far out of the ship, the pair began to collect Star Bits with the girl's net. They almost fell out a few times, but they kept on collecting.

The Star Bits tasted like honey.

By the time the chapter is over, Sephiroth’s faint smirk has melted into a smile. He flips the page.

The smile doesn’t last for very long.

Chapter 3

A beam of light pierced through the ship's window. Thinking it was the morning sun, the girl peered through the window, only to find a turquoise blue comet shimmering at her.

The little girl shook the sleeping Luma awake and shouted excitedly, "We HAVE to get to that comet!"

The pair descended on the comet and found that it was made of ice. They looked high and low, but Luma's mother was nowhere to be found.

“Awww…” Zack frowns, saddened by the outcome. The outcome that takes Sephiroth’s chest and tangles it into a tight, serrated knot.

They have been searching for so, so long… Perhaps Luma’s mother isn’t there at all. Perhaps she never was. Perhaps she left for a reason—perhaps she doesn’t care. She clearly doesn’t, if she abandoned her son like that, if she left him to the mercy of the world alone.

The seed twitches.

Or, perhaps… she is there… somewhere… waiting.

He continues on.

Exhausted, the little girl sat down with a flop, utterly unable to take another step.

"Look!"

Peering down at the icy ground where Luma was pointing, the girl suddenly noticed clusters of Star Bits encased in the ice.

"Pretty good, huh? Finding Star Bits is my specialty!" said Luma, beaming.

"There's ice here, but it's so warm, I'll bet there's water here too."

The two decided to stay on the comet for a while.

Riding the turquoise comet, the pair continued their search for Luma's mother.

Sephiroth remains silent, numbly flipping the page. He hardly hears Zack’s check-in.

Chapter 4 

One night, the girl dreamed about her own mother.

"Where are you going?" she asked her mother's retreating back.

Abruptly, Sephiroth pauses the game.

“I… dream about my Mother.”

Zack cants his head, not exactly sure how to respond to such a statement. Seph’s shoulders have also stiffened to an uncomfortable degree—almost wintery, like the blood suddenly went cold. He removes his arm. 

“…What kind of dreams?” Zack asks delicately. Did someone turn the A/C on or what?

“…She calls to me…” Sephiroth says, that cold glaze returning to his eyes. “That I should find her. That she’s there. That she’s…” The man’s hands ball into fists, tightening, reptilian eyes narrowing as he spat out the last word. “Trapped.”

Zack shrinks back against the pillows, confused and chilled. “Seph, you’re scaring me. C’mon.”

“She’s there. Somewhere.” His lips curl into a snarl, voice honing, eyes daggerous. “My mother.” He glances up to the ceiling, as if he could burn right through it and be swallowed by the night sky. “You’re there, somewhere. I know you are. I know you are. You’re there—“

“Snap out of it, Seph.”

Without thinking Zack swipes a glass of water off the coffee table and sloshes it in Sephiroth’s face. The icy liquid claps his trap mid-sentence, and he sits there, paralyzed, water dripping from his damp bangs, the emerald eyes going wide and a myriad of emotions flickering through them. First shock, then anger, then confusion, and then… 

Sadness.

A noticeable light dims in the Mako-made irises as Sephiroth charges to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Zack sits there for Ifrit knows how long, enveloped in the silence, staring blankly at the closed washroom door. 

Seph looked so… crushed in those last few seconds, when whatever smog was there had cleared from his eyes. He looked so lost. So aching. And what is he doing here, holding an empty cup and watching. That’s his best friend in there!

Setting down the glass, Zack gingerly makes his way across the den to the bathroom, pressing his ear against it. 

Breathing. Sharp, rattled breathing. That’s what he hears.

“Seph…” Zack knocks against the door, two tender raps. “You okay?”

Upon hearing no answer, Zack waits a couple more beats. And when that also carries silence, he carefully creaks the door open, stepping inside. 

To be greeted by the sight of Seph tucked against the wall. His shoulders are quivering, sharp-nailed fingers digging into the ridges on his coat, the uneven breaths he heard through the door all the more audible now. It shattered Zack’s heart.

“Hey…” He slides down the wall beside him, wrapping his arm back around his shoulders, soft and thawed. “It’s okay, bud. It’s okay…” 

“My mother….” Sephiroth repeats… except this time, the words are nothing short of hollow. Broken. “I lost mine so long ago. I never even met her. I never will.” He sucks in his breath, a turbulent inhale. “She’ll never be there. No matter where I look.”

Zack rubs smooth, soothing circles along his friend’s back, through the gushing silver strands. There’s nothing he can say to make Seph’s pain go away. No magic words, no magic to assuage him. All he can do is listen, letting Seph know that he’s here, and that he cares. Cares more than anything. 

“I know, Seph…” Zack says quietly… pained, “I know it hurts.”

Sephiroth trembles. There’s no dam for his thoughts anymore, no hesitations. Not with his current presence. “Sometimes… I think that she abandoned me, like she did to Luma. Perhaps she didn’t want me, or perhaps I wasn’t strong enough, or…” He buries his head deeper, squeezing his eyes shut.

Zack squeezes him even tighter in reassurance. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, Seph. She wanted you, Seph. I know she did. And if she saw you now… oh man…” A soft, wan smile blooms on his lips. “You have no idea how proud she would be.”

Sephiroth lifts his chin, silent, blinking hazily towards his best friend, the catlike eyes wide and vulnerable as they drift in the emerald ponds. They let the silence blanket them for another swathe of time, the hum of the gaming system just barely there through the door.

“…You wanna finish the story?” Zack tenderly asks, like asking a rattled child if they can turn off the lights.

Sephiroth collects his breath, sighing deeply, unfolding himself from the wall. He brushes the spillage of locks out from his face. “…I’m an adult,” he tries to huff. 

The comment’s enough to make Zack smirk. “Yeah, but you’re still my bestest buddy. I gotta look after you.” 

They end up back on the couch minutes later, Zack practically smushed against his pal this time as he takes control of the remote again. Slowly, sparing a check-in glance to Seph, Zack resumes the story.

“Where are you going?" she asked her mother's retreating back.

Without turning, her mother replied, "Don't fret, dearest. I'm not going anywhere. I'm always watching over you, like the sun in the day and the moon in the night."

A wave of sadness washed over the girl.

"What about when it rains, and I can't see the sun or the moon?"

Her mother thought for a moment before responding.

"I will turn into a star in the clouds and wait for your tears to dry."

When she awoke, the girl's face was damp with tears.

"You have Star Bits in your eyes!" said Luma to the girl.

Wiping her face, the girl replied, "These are tears, not Star Bits. I'm crying because I'll never see my mother ever again!"

At this, Luma began to cry too. "Mama, oh, Mama... Waaaah!"

The faint, stifled sound of water plunking on plush catches Zack’s attention. Blue eyes lift, and that’s when he sees a single, glistening pearl rivering down his friend’s cheek. Zack’s heart bleeds with sympathy.

“Bud…” He reaches forward, dabbing the raindrop off with his hand. As Seph glances at him, the fragile piano music hitting its highest notes, a wobbly but true kind of smile forms on Zack’s face. “You’re crying star bits, Seph.” 

There’s something about the way he says it, or the derpiness of his smile… but it’s contagious; Sephiroth’s would-be stoic features get infected with a stupid smile of his own. A silent nod tells Zack to continue.

The pair traveled through the starry skies, and though they encountered many other comets, not one of them held Luma's mother.

Luma was despondent.

"Now, now, Luma. The rain clouds won't go away if you keep crying," the girl said, giving Luma a squeeze. "I'll give you a present if you stop."

The girl closed her eyes and said gently, "I'll take care of you."

With these words, she felt a small spark in her heart.

And so does Sephiroth, as he and Zack share another soft smile, realizing the rift is being sewn together by the second. Realizing the cement filling the craters. The warmth filling the ice. 

For the first time in a long while, if ever, it’s neither of them that initiates the hug. Zack pulls his best buddy close and Sephiroth holds him tight, resting his head against the boy’s shoulder as he lets himself be cocooned in the solace, the warmth, the love… love that is right here, right on the ground, alive and real and wanting to be beside him.

“Thank you…” Sephiroth mumbles. For everything…

Zack swells with warmth as he burrows into Seph’s collar in turn, his heart practically throbbing, the rhythm aligned like stars in the cosmos against his friend’s. “Gotta take care of my buddy.”

The rest of the story is smooth sailing. 

Suddenly, more Lumas began to pop out from the apricot planet. They were different colors, but they all shouted the same thing.

"My mama!" "My mama!"

The sight of all the shouting Lumas only made the girl laugh harder. "What am I going to do with all these children?!"

The two laughed in harmony, Sephiroth finally amused by the absurdity of it all.

Peeking into the telescope, a tiny blue dot floated into sight. It was smaller than a Star Bit.

"How strange... It's so far away, but it feels so close."

She twisted the knob of the telescope, and the blue dot grew until she could make out a grassy hill dotted with flowers. It seemed very familiar to her.

Zooming even closer, a terrace on the hill came into view.

"I used to go stargazing there when I lived on my home planet."

Even through the more tumultuous parts, Zack just clutched his friend’s arm tightly, letting them brace the tale together.

"I want to go home! I want to go home right now!"

The girl burst into tears, and the Lumas didn't know what to do.

"I want to go home! I want to go back to my house by the hill! I want to see my mother!"

The girl was shouting now, her face wet with tears.

"But I know she's not there! I knew all along that she wasn't out there in the sky! Because...because..."

"She's sleeping under the tree on the hill!"

Sephiroth’s chest tightens; Zack unties the knots.

Though usually quite cheery, one day the girl became sad again. Luma drew close and tried to comfort her.

"Mama, you still have me!"

"And don't be sad about your mama, because she's a part of you! That means she's always close by!"

"It's like me. I love Star Bits because they remind me of my mama."

Zack gives his friend one last squeeze, seeing Sephiroth’s face fall. “She’ll always be with you, Seph. Always. And hey.. I’m not so bad to be with, right?” Zack sticks out his tongue, blinking in the most innocent, derpy manner that always reaps a chuckle from Seph. 

Including now. “No,” Seph smiles, and spontaneously ruffles his friend’s hair. “You’re not.”

Moral of the story: ZACK IS SPACE MOM.

#sephiroth #ffvii #crisis core #zack fair #asks #ty!! #mario galaxy #WHY IS THIS SO LONG OMG FORGIVE ME #fangirl #randomness #weenie hut jrs #the perfect game for Seph! #until it's not #whoopsie doodle #this ain't a proper fic or anything the chapters correspond with rosalina's story lmao #THE MUSIC #jenova #mumsy

[xandyprojects]

[A Wonderful Tour]

I had fun making this!

Collab template and Devin belongs to: @thenamesmobu !!

The fic is under the 'Keep reading' if you are interested!

[Summary: Violet decided to Visit Devin after his coma not really expecting anything other than to annoy him for a bit however what he did not expect that they be in the starry-dome and have an actually conversation/Bonding time]

“Wow, I never knew the Starry-dome could be so…comforting before..” Behind his visor, his eye widen from bewilderment. It was odd for Violet to see the starry dome shown like this other than what was ‘known’ at his parable.

“Exactly…Oh, it's beautiful, isn't it?” Devin sigh and admire it.

“Now… shall we get a proper interview, Violet?” Violet took a time to process what Devin said as they immediately turn. Unknowingly his bottom cloudy hair also forms bits of light blended with the starry dome.

Violet was oddly hesitant for a second but then looked at the lights.. he unsummoned his hologram. “Maybe another time..." he mutters.

“Oh?” it was out of character for Violet to turn down this opportunity, even Devin was surprised by this response. 

“I’m not really in a mood today, and I kinda wanna watch the light for now if that’s alright?” Violet smiled as they sat down looking at the lights, Devin was a bit concerned but nodded. “Sure.”

He sat down 1 foot away beside Violet. “Is everything alright, Violet?” He asked making sure the unknown entity was okay, as Violet smiled not looking at Devin.

“The lights in the starry dome you have are pretty… very pretty...” They mutter trying to change the subject, and they're just more likely to focus on the lights.

“Alright, let’s just watch instead if you don't want to talk about it..” Devin sighed, It was unusual for him to worry about Violet, especially considering Violet's being and information is unknown to others despite there a chatterbox.

But of course, he respects their choice for them to change the subject. As the two now admire and relax at the starry dome’s lights for how long.

…

 Violet chuckled lightly breaking the silence between the two.

“Hmm? What’s funny?” Devin asked curiously.

“It’s nothing, Devin Boris. Its- it’s just funny that the first time we met we weren’t exactly quote n quote ‘Buddies’, especially aftermath- heh even like I was trying to be ‘buddies’ with you, and you have to tolerate my annoying ass heh..”  he chuckled softly.

“Heh, Funny thing I used to find you weird and annoying..” Devin commented looking at the lights.

…

Violet glance at Devin. “Aaand?” They tilted their head curiously.

“And you are..” Violet immediately lightly punches Devin in the shoulder, in return he chuckles

“HEyy!” He laugh it off as soon they both started to laugh and began sharing and talking more while the lights play.

"Yet look at us now, relaxing and watching the lights." Devin sighed. "I wasn't aware that you were capable of being 'calm', but I guess you could say that I'm far more used to seeing you chaotic and loud I suppose" He shrugged.

"Snrk– I'd say the same thing to you, but life is full of surprises and changes. I don't really expect you to stay the same for eternity." Violet replied.

"Heh, well that is quite the contrary to what I initially believed. But… I'm glad that I could finally say, I agree." Devin nodded as his eyes drifted back onto the lights as they were reflected in his eyes, he smiled softly.

"This was used to be a gift for someone, yet I never get a chance to give it to them." He looked up at the lights.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.." Violet mutter really doesn't know what to say.

"It's alright, the past is in the past. Beside, Actually alright being here." Devin stood up and stretch abit.

…

“You change Devin Boris..” Violet spoke up and Devin's ear perk up now glancing at Violet. “But in a good way.” they summon up their Hologramic screens updating Devin’s status and then look at him with a genuine smile. “And I’m happy for you.” Then look over back to the lights.

“Thank you, Violet.” Devin smiled glancing at the lights. "I can say the same with you."

"Hmm, How come?" he was curious about what Devin going to say.

"Other than appearance, I guess I can say you are improving too. " He shrugged. "I..." Violet was speechless for a moment. "I- Thank you... that's coming a lot, especially from you." He fidgets his cloudy hair, glancing at the light

"Your welcome Violet, just so you know that you are always welcome here... Oh, and don't break the walls too much alright." they both chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Devin Boris." Violet's visor emoted eye-rolling.

...

With a mischievous smile, he asked jokingly. “Soooo... Ig Devin. jr is the one gonna operate your Parable now Eeyyyyy?” Devin immediately turn and punch Violet lightly in return Violet giggled.

“For the last time, he’s not my son!” Violet couldn't help but let out a guffaw at Devin's response. 

“Pfft- Yeah yeah, deny all you want Devin Boris. I witness how you treat Agus Dewantara. You basically adopt him like you own son!” Violet snicker even more.

“There's a difference between ‘Apprentice’ and ‘Son’ Violet.” Devin crossed their arms.

“Yeah yeah, Tomato Tomahto.” They rolled their eyes not really bothering to ‘correct’ him as Devin sighed.

And once again they watch over to the illumination of the starry-dome and while they have small conversations and share stories with each other there n then. Well, mostly Violet just sharing the events he missed during his coma making sure he doesn't get left behind.

=====Fin=====

(Not related to the fic but i just thin its funny)

[Next day]

Violet sending burnt rocks on the gc: （；´д｀）ゞ ಥ_ಥ

Ellios is done with Violet: 😑😑😑

Devin witnessing his cooking skills in the gc: APA KEJADAHNYA-??

(I used google translate so apologies if its wrong! It’s supposed to be “WHAT THE FU-??”)

[HEY MOBU TYSM AGAIN FOR BETA READING!!!]

#my art #the stanley parable #tsp #tsp narrator #Beta readed by Mobu! #THANK YOU SO MUCHH FOR HELPING MOBUU!! #tspud #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #narratorverse #paraverse #narrator #Collab yipeee #I had so much fun with this! #fic #my fic #template collab! #tspud narrator #narrator tsp #the stanley parable narrator #stanley parable #stanley parable ultra deluxe #unreliable narrators #bonding timeee #the stanley palatable #starry dome #funfact; Violet hate/despise physical touch unless its the person they are comfortable or they the ones doing it #ALSO CONGRATS ON THE 200+ FOLLOWERS BTW MOBUU! #totally didnt hesistate to post this hours ago /silly

[sobredunia]

they vibin :]

don't worry about that last one don't worry about it

taglist for the creators and AUs of the characters in the animation under the cut!

Kanako from UNDERTALE ROM LEAK by @keksalot404

Ceroba from Underfell yellow by @pantamonte

Chujin from Undertale gold by @s0ckh3adstudios

Dalv from Vitale Yellowfell by @stringsbasement (i want him so bad. i'm sorry)

Sirius by @here1snyan i'm sorry for massacring your boy but there's no way i'm doing all those gradients and effects consistently in every single frame

Axis from the StarryScreenBuddy AU by @therealcallmekd

(the reason why the end was censored is bc it's heavy lore spoilers of an AU a friend is making, and she doesn't wanna reveal it just yet. it's redswap by @fuji-iri btw. i love mentally ill people who would rather die than admit they're experiencing grief)

oh also art taglist

@rotkad @butchlesbianyaoi @blackfright @beetroot-merchant @ashs-hellhole @h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch

#nathan's notes #art #undertale yellow #uty #hoo boy it's tag time #starlo uty #sirius starlo #uty kanako #undertale rom leak au #underfell yellow #ceroba underfell yellow #undertale rom leak kanako #dalv uty #dalv vitale yellowfell #i keep on writing vitaltale why am i like this #starry screen buddy #axis uty #axis 014 #chujin ketsukane #ceroba ketsukane #chujin utg #undertale gold #redswap (???) #i guess??????

[therealcallmekd]

El Wiwi creature

GUYS... so ive been thinking

I wanna make an ask blog for this little guy, Starry,

I don't know if people have interest in that tho so-

[EDIT- ALOT OF PEOPLE VOTED YES SO! HERE IT IS!]

original image :3

#starlo #uty #uty fanart #uty starlo #uty north star #Starry Screen Buddy #undertale yellow #undertale yellow fanart #undertale yellow starlo #undertale yellow north star #starlo uty #the el wiwi... he so small ouhhg #JusticeInTheUnderground! #KD'sCrumbs

[starryscreenbuddy]

Calling tech support there's a silly lil guy on my computer that I did not download!11!!!1111!!!!!

"Unwanted program? I can help with that no worries-"

"Want me to help and take you through the steps of file removal?"

"WH- What!! No no no please..."

#starlo uty #starry screen buddy #starry speaks #axis uty #axis 014 #Axis014TechSupport

[sakuramidnight15]

-MV Character Screen Poster-

________________________________________

"Amongst to her three vampire sisters, she currently on a long night hunt for a certain famous noble whose blood is enough to quench her thirst and hunger..."

"Although she's still apparently chasing him down on the long night... And hasn't catched him yet..."

"Oh.. He was is surely testing her patience.."

--------------------------------------------

Full Outfit:

--------------------------------------------

Okay in the discord with the rest of my buddies- We did discussed about the Vampire AU concept and I decided to make my Chi-Chi Vampire! XD

Hope ya like my screen Poster! <3

--------------------------------------------

(Tagging: @rosietrace @starry-night-rose @fumikomiyasaki @nem0-nee @authoruio @windbornearchon @twsted-princess @geminiiviolets @vaporvipermedia)

#mc #oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gacha club #gacha games #gacha mod #chizuko miyato #chizu #sakura's yuusona #idol au #vampire au

[foli-vora]

sotn: epilogue

masterlist | series masterlist

Summary: Signs!AU. It started off in the most bizarre of ways. Crop circles. You mean the bother of cleaning up someone’s stupid prank? But then the lights come—hundreds, thousands—floating menacingly above the cities. The panic starts to settle in. Full summary here…

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: incredibly short and sweet

Warnings: fluff, coz i think we've had enough of the angst yeah? mentions of dead characters

A/N: And we're done. I don’t know what this is, I guess I just wanted something sweet to end on because this has been quite a heavy ride. Thank you for joining me on this journey!

PREVIOUS

His hand is tight in yours as you walk through the fields, now strangely vacant after removing the tall stalks of corn. The earth was freshly turned, and ready for new crop, but you hadn’t decided what to utilise the wide open fields for. For now, you were both content leaving them empty to enjoy walks under the sun.

"He won't listen." You mutter in amusement.

"You sure about that?" Frankie whistles sharply, calling the attention of the small puppy bouncing ahead, laughing when the little body immediately starts bounding back to him. "See? He listens to his papa."

You pout, frowning playfully at the puppy as he returns with a sharp bark. "Chip always listened to me."

"That's because he's a mama's boy. Aren't you, buddy?"

Chip nudges at your hand, his tongue falling from his mouth when you bend to deliver some scratches along the underside of his jaw. He wanders ahead once you finish, the puppy falling into step beside him as they explore the field.

"Harry'll be on my side soon enough. It's nothing a few extra treats won't solve."

Frankie chuckles, pulling at your hand until you're falling into his side. His gaze falls to the distance where he sees Will moving his few belongings from his truck to the house, the slam of the old screen door echoing through the air.

Will would take care of Harry's house.

Harry had left it to the both of you, and after many discussions of what to do with it, it felt wrong to just shove it on the market and be rid of it. It meant something to you, to the both of you, and so it was a no brainer offering it to the older Miller brother, especially after the loss of not only his mother, but Benny too.

Though nothing would ever fill the gap left from his loss, at least now he had somewhere to rest, to heal. 

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"Someone's at our house."

Frankie's eyes shoot to your own home, taking in the mysterious sleek car pulling into the driveway, but even from a distance he could recognise the person climbing out of the drivers seat. His smile is automatic, his pace quickening until he’s practically dragging you behind him. 

Pope made it.

-

Tags.

Everything Pedro Pascal tag list: @radiowallet, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @doin-stuff, @radiowallet, @the-queen-of-fools, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @lestradeslover, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122​, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant​, @just-here-for-the-moment​, @gracie7209​, @pinkie289​, @lavenderluna10​, @goodgriefitsawildworld​, @h-hxgirl​, @juletheghoul​, @punkerthanpascal​, @itswanktime​, @karolydulin​, @pedrostories​, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch​, @omlwhatamidoinghere​, @cannedsoupsucks​, @chaoticemz​, @hows-my-hair​, @alexxavicry​, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist​, @mandocrasis​, @thisshipwillsail316​, @toxicfrankenstein​, @hotchlover​, @ew-erin​, @mishasminion360​, @jitterbugs927​, @penelopeimp​, @woodland-mist​, @pedro-pastel​, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell​, @1andthesame​, @elegantduckturtle​, @captain-jebi​, @magpie-to-the-morning​, @sharkbait77​, @sleep-tight1​, @musings-of-a-rose​, @karlawithacapitalk​, @woomen23​, @frasmotic​, @songsformonkeys​, @loonymagizoologist​, 

Frankie Morales tag list: @a-reader-and-a-writer​, @sanfransolomitatm​, @pedrohoe04​, @evyiione​, @stardust-galaxies​, @xjsteph​, @androah​, @wildmoonflower​, @naughtynecromancer​, @quica-quica-quica​, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola​, @notagamersdey​, @fuckoffbard​, @yt-adriana​, @dins-cyare, @clydesducktape​,

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier fic