#Yeah I clowned on that anon because their ask was pretty mental

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

All you did was ask if the weirdo was Neil Gaiman, then provided a call out. You didn't tell that LITERAL CHILD not to put themself in danger. Because that's what it is. When one person WAS concerned about a literal child contacting a potential predator, you made it about pro-shipping, not the issue at hand. You also called the concerned person deranged. You're more concerned with pixels kissing on the internet than you are a child PUTTING THEMSELF IN A SITUATION WHERE THEY COULD BE RAPED/KILLED/KIDNAPPED/OTHERWISE HARMED. That kid is doing things that have gotten other children murdered and tortured in a way they will never recover from. NEVER. If a CHILD tells you that they contacted a dangerous adult and you're an adult, you are morally bound to tell that kid not to do that. It's the same thing as a kid running headlong into traffic. Luckily, the person emailed (hopefully) killed the conversation quickly. Predators are master manipulators and kids don't know when they're being played. That could have gone very, very, VERY wrong. Shame on you for not condemning that action. You're the adult in that situation - you need to fucking BE RESPONSIBLE.

Fellas, if you send an E-Mail to a YA author and you’re in high school, is it inviting Murder Most Foul?

[aerkame]

I will no longer write for other AUs for Welcome Home (please read in full)

TW: Mentions of NSFW/pedos

I know some people only followed me because of a fic or two I might have started writing on for another Welcome Home AU, but recently I have started to notice the increasing toxicity of the fandom overall. Yeah, I've been other fandoms I know there is toxicity and I know there's a lot of nice people in this fandom, but I have NEVER seen it this bad. Out of all the fandoms/fanbases that I have been in, I have never seen such a huge problem regarding pedos, NSFW art/writing being shared and looked at by minors despite the creator's wishes, general toxic behavior, and a large amount of mentally unwell people working their way into groups of children or safe spaces. I ended up having to delete quite a few NSFW art pieces on twitter because I found minors had seen it and some guy decided to make a comment on my OC Lilith that I was not comfortable with.

I also do not feel alright having to restrict myself on what I write or draw because a single person might be "triggered" or "offended" by it. I know I put warnings when they are needed, I should not have to feel like I'm walking on eggshells in this fandom. I do not need anonymous asks telling me how I should and shouldn't write or what I can and can't say.

Because of how bad it's been and seeing more and more creators leave the fandom, I have decided to no longer engage in other AUs or creators unless it's from a follower (I know you guys are fine), friend, or person I know I've talked with before, OR if it's Clown himself. A lot of people forget that Welcome Home isn't what people keep writing it as. Welcome Home isn't even close to being done, we're just riding off the AUs right now. It really rubs me the wrong way that all I ever see on AO3 now with fanfictions are smut fics mainly and some pretty disturbing stuff.

There is so much, too much, s3xualization in this fandom and the romanticizing of serious and dangerous themes/topics. A lot of times believe or not, when I draw buff characters with no shirts, it really is just anatomy practice. I do not understand some of the comments I get sometimes in my inbox. Yes it's fine to tease a bit, but my goodness some of the comments I have seen before are concerning. I never intend on s3xualizing the characters and yet I always get anon asks going a bit out there with s3xualized comments. It's why I haven't really drawn that stuff in a while. I can't tell if people really do s3xualize that stuff or if they're seeing it as anatomy practice with a bit of tease like I do.

I have been bottling A LOT of things up recently and it's hindered my ability to really write or draw how I want. I'm always scrapping ideas and giving up halfway through.

It's always "Is this something that people are going to s3xualize?" "Is this something that might offend someone in x category?' "Will people like this new character?" "Am I good enough for this topic?". It's not healthy and I know that it affects my creativity and mentality, I won't be restricting myself anymore though. I will write/draw what I want, just please heed my warnings when I put them there and don't ignore my boundaries or the boundaries of others.

Now, regarding my own two AUs (I dropped the Dream one because I have something special planned for TFP), The Finfolk AU and Alive AU. I WILL continue writing/drawing for them. They are my own AUs with my own characters added in them. A lot of people that interact with me are followers and I know you guys would never disrespect my OCs or invade boundaries and I love you so much for that. Of course my rule on requests remain the same. NO NSFW for the normal Welcome Home, but NSFW is allowed for Finfolk AU requests.

Unfortunately, all of this does mean I will not continue the fic I was writing for @clownsuu Mob AU. I'm sorry, I just really do not feel like writing for an AU outside of what I know in terms of the person who makes it. I am not sure how to explain it other than I don't feel alright with it unless it's like an AU from someone I know or at least talked to before? Just at least a person I know on some personal level. I don't want to explore the fandom right now, it is a mess with the people in it...do not take this the wrong way, I DO NOT hate anyone outside of the people I know, I just don't feel comfortable in the fandom at the moment and I will not leave you guys behind either. So in short, I plan to just stay in my own lane so to speak and do what I can for the ones who follow me for what I do.

I will however finish the Villain fanfiction as it's not exactly anyone's AU? Not sure how to explain that, it was a series of asks for it. And obviously I will make a full long fanfictions for the Alive and Finfolk AU.

I know I said I don't want to vent on here, but it's getting hard for me to ignore. Everytime I type or pick up a pencil to make something on here it doesn't feel right.

[wench-and-jezebel]

Dark Angel Reaction: C.R.E.A.M.

Jezebel (@typicalopposite) reacts [with occasional asides by Wench (@scripted-downfall)]

Brief aside for yet another stunning introductory conversation:

Jezebel: How many episodes are in season one? Wench: kjdsflkajs Like, 21 Jezebel: Season two? Wench: Also 21 Jezebel: And how many is Ackles in? Wench: Um… 21 - 3 + 1, so 19.  Ish. Jezebel: OK that’s good Wench: ??? Jezebel: I was like am I really gonna have to deal with this version of Max for that long and not even get my fill of Ackles Wench: askdjflkajdflkjadf The first Ackles ep is episode 17 of s1; you'll have a fix soon.  Jezebel: Yeah but he dies that’s… That’s like getting a fix but it’s laced with something that cancels the fix  before you really enjoyed it Wench: ... I'm adding this conversation to the post

There ya go; an insight into our bonkers mental states at the start of this episode

– – –

[Okay, I’m sorry, but this is the third of three non-pilot titles in a row that is an innuendo in one way or the other; was this intentional or did they just get reallyyyyy unlucky?  Or.  I guess.  Really lucky.  You never know.]

It’s the guy from water boy.  Not really but how he talked

Logan so mysterious

She looks like Ziva (Tony’s love interest in NCIS)

"Your.  Father.  WAS.  Disappeared." ??? Say it weirder why don't you

“So depressing”  Bitch

Oh find something that made it up your alley huh

ITS A TRAP!!! THATS PENNYWISE!!  RUNNNNN KIDS  [He comes up later, actually.]  TIM CURRY?  [No, Pennywise]  Lame  [LKA;LDSKFKL]  Tim Curry’s awesome 😂

Lintlicker the dancing clown

This opening end kills me. The fetus doing cartwheels in her eye is just… wot [alksjdflkajdsflkasjd I KNOW.  But it gets worse in s2]  Like it would have been edgier to have the young version

I LOVE HIS ACCENTTTTTT  [I wanna say his name is Herbal, btw]  Like the tea! Makes sense his voice is calming!

*sigh* how cliche

That Nintendo?  THATS NINTENDO!

Them and the damn bike tricks

I love her.  OC I mean.  (Then again the other her is Max so that should have been easy to understand)

Ewwww the trash water

Is that money?

Does NO ONE look up in this show?  Ever?  LIKE. she wasn’t even inconspicuous!  [NO THEY NEVER DO]

Matilda.  The scene where she’s under the table hiding

“What if I wanna hold it over here”  ☠️☠️ [Oh, look, she’s showing off again.]  Wot.  Ma’am's little speeches hurt my brain

☠️☠️☠️☠️"It looked like a girl"

SHIT I NEED TO DO THE ASK ABOUT NORMAL!  SORRY ANON!!!  I’LL DO IT SOON  (But at least I will have a little more to go off)

I thought he said the dad was hitting the bong and had a boyfriend

Iss me, oh my

[Not Logan offering her a way to seem slightly less blatantly transgenic/conspicuous by carrying a gun and her saying “Nah I wanna show off my asskicking powers instead.”]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️ Women! Lol

– – –

Midpoint (Kinda) Judgement (aka: this practice came about because we keep having to pause in the middle, and this time it was slightly before halfway through, but it counts enough ig): Ok, so this one doesn’t feel as Max heavy. But alas she’s still there and still got her new and improved (hah) attitude. Although it’s not as strong as last ep. BUT again this doesn’t seem as Max centric as the other three, so maybe that will change second half.  [Are you talking about the way there's a second plot with Sketch, OC, Herbal, et al?]  Yeah and then Logan looking for the girls father. Just seems everyone else has been on screen more and she pops in says something with attitude thens like gotta blaze gotta jet gotta fly. Gotta do whatever.  [That's gonna be pretty off-and-on common.  s2, for example, usually has two plotlines; Max-centric and other-centric.  A lot of the time, that's Alec's plotline, but sometimes it's Joshua or Sketchy or one of the others.  It's nice in some ways, iffy in others, but yeah]  Ahhhh! I see! Not complaining :) lol

– – –

Oh that was money!

bitch slappppeddd

I get those too I get it (ulcers).  (I don’t really.  Well, I might.  Idk)

Oh man

Looooool “bounce”.  That ones new

Poor Sketch (sarcasm cause he is kinda sleezy)  [You mean... sketchy? :)  But he gets a bit better]

How does he make those damn glasses look good.

I love her hairrrrrrr.  If she’s gonna be a bitch, why did she have to change the hair??? Gimme something Alba!  *sigh*

Le gasp!  Isn’t he the dead guy

He is!!!  Plot twissstttt

Ahh love.  It be doing thing to ya

Man you can’t see her

Don’t you know that’s how you get dead?  Has he not watched tv?

If she.  If.  She.  If she says one more thing that seems like a slap to his wheelchair boundness.  😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 "A girl who moves the furniture (cause you can’t)"

How did he abandon you, chick?  Y’all were estranged!  Do you know know what that means?

Girl/thought-dead father vs Max/red balloon.  Not the same

☠️  Letting that balloon go messed her up ☠️☠️  [LKJLKADSJF;LKASJDF;LKSAJDF; NOOOOOO!!!  I’m ded.  I’m.  Dead.  That’s it.  You killed me.]

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨  Looking like one of Charlie’s angels

Bimboooossss 🙂 damn being a girl comes in handy

“Cause I’m a super human.  I told you this last episode.  Not my fault you didn’t buy it.”

☠️☠️☠️☠️ “17 black, like me.”

☠️☠️☠️ Here we play for money  (You know he didn’t want to say that)

☠️☠️☠️☠️ YOU SHOULD THROW ONE OF YOUR TENS… YOU GOT TOO MANY

[The absolute wall of skulls here.]  …..☠️☠️☠️☠️

Dramatic card-playing

[... Gonna be honest... new ship unlocked]  I knowwww  [Just saying, Max/OC would also explain the latter’s tendency to view Max as amazing regardless of context.  She screwed with Logan’s brain too.] This is very true!

I TOLD YOU I WAS A SUPER HUMAN

POWER OF THE BOOB.! That money held up that whole fight

[Poor Sketchy is such a screw-up.  I forgot how bad s1!Sketch was, because s2!Sketch is at least vaguely competent.]  😂😂😂

Welp.  Here’s where either one or both die.  Or she kills him.

Huh.  Damn.  Called it

Oh boo boo hoo.

[Logan: *Angstily exercises*]

Sad death video

[“C.R.E.A.M., baby.  C.R.E.A.M.”  WHAT DID I SAY!??!?! THAT WAS FREAKING INTENTIONAL.]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

More talking in circles  [Simultaneously: She did the "or maybe not' thing agai- askdjf;lkajdf Same brain cell :)]  *sigh*

Aight done and done!

[applctini]

RULES &&. GUIDES

GENERAL

i am a pretty flexible partner, but i can also be equally as slow when it comes to replying. i work anywhere from 32-42+ hours a week, this is a hobby not my life. as much as i respect your time in replying, please respect mine. never assume i've forgotten about a thread, because i promise you i haven't - i'm just a slow sloth.

i do not mind slight godmodding, as the characters of the hazbin/helluva verse are immortal, deities, creatures, etc. of supernatural origins. powers, strength, magic, voodoo, religion, all of it is bound to come into play one way or another. lucifer himself is an insanely strong being - he just doesn't use his power very often. the only thing that bugs me is others assuming what goes on in lucifer's head. the old cuck doesn't even know what's going in his brain except monkey banging cymbals.

no anon hate, i think that?? goes without saying lmao. it'll be deleted immediately. you can bully lucifer as much as you want, but i'm not tolerating that nonsense thank you.

YES !! those starter calls are for you baby! i want to interact with you. YES !! those memes i reblog everyday are for you !! i want you to pester me, lucifer, i adore having a full inbox because memes and asks are the BEST way to get my attention. you thinking you're not sure if it's for you? send in your own asks !! unprompted shit is my FAVORITE thing to see pop up on my phone as a notification. do it, bug me!! i'm not that scary, i am probably the biggest baby you'd ever meet tbh.

my icons are edited for me and me only, please do not take them, but i am more willing to share where i got the bases from so you can have your own !!

FOLLOWING

tbh i don't always look at my followers, i've been on this website since i was a kid. however that doesn't mean i'm not gonna follow you back. i mentioned i was slow, right? yeah, that - at most it takes me 2-5 days to follow back unless for some odd reason i really didn't see your follow. tumblr loves not notifying me anyways, so just keep that in mind !!

this is a roleplay blog. i will not interact with personals and i hope you respect that to not interact/reblog my posts. i won't block you so long as you respect this one thing i ask of. you're welcome to follow, read my things, but do not reblog anything from me that comes from me.

i don't do the whole follow-for-follow. that always annoyed me, it still does. i don't get it... just, no lmao. if i follow you, i wanna follow you. i wanna interact with you, not to just be a number.

OC's should NEVER feel discouraged with me !! my main multi is mostly oc's, i live off of oc's. i love them. i only ask that there's a base page where i can receive some sort of information on them - it doesn't have to be elaborate, but i wanna know them !!

TRIGGERS &&. NSFW

this blog will be heavy with mental health topics. it'll contain depression, panic disorders, anxiety, ptsd, thoughts of self harm, acts of self harm, martyr complex, and much more. if you are sensitive to these topics or anything you think might lead to these topics, please turn around and do not follow me. i tag everything, but this will be a big chunk of my blog regarding headcanons, certain threads, etc.

i adore writing smut, any forms of it, but i don't write it with strangers. it often comes with just shipping with me, which we'll talk about below. however, if we share a ship (or more !!) i don't mind writing it with you, any form, or at any time. i love the intimacy (or even lack there of oops-) when it comes to sharing a body with someone.

MULTISHIP YAY OR NAY?

YAY!! I am multiship*, i will gladly toss this clown around to anyone like the switch he is lmao.

i love ships, but i also ship with chemistry. i don't like forcing myself to fall for a ship that doesn't hit me and i wouldn't want to do that to a partner either !! it's easy to be a people pleaser on this site, but don't be afraid to tell me if something isn't working for you, i don't take any offense to it. we're all adults here, we can talk like them with our big words.

*i will mention more about my shipping in this post.

WRITING

i write typically from para to novella, occasional crackhead behavior here and there with one-liners. my asks usually wind up on the longer side falling into drabble territory because i love setting a scene, describing such little details that it's probably annoying lmao. you don't have to match me word-for-word, but i would appreciate if length was kept to similar status.

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

me? i'm star, i'm 24 turning 25 currently. i work in retail, like i said i can be very busy during my workdays and may not always be available here. if you have my discord, don't feel discouraged to message me there, or even here if you don't. i will always try to make time between watching my department to reply to you. i'm often closing on my shifts, so usually by the end of the night i'm more eager to reply and like a chirping bird most nights. i'm under EDT currently (UTC -4H) so you can gauge my days.

[shipping-kitchen]

As a proshipper I have some advice for you.

Number one is: (and a lot of proshippers don't follow this even though they say it for everyone) Block liberally. Anon hate? Just block. Block any hate that you get. The trolls WANT attention. And if they see that, more of them will follow. Don't even SAY you got hate mail. Make them think that their ask got swallowed by tumblr.

Number two: avoid discourse. Trust me. Your mental health will be better without constantly being on the discourse side of being proship. I know because I was and it just made me more hostile.

Number three: Be kind to antis. I hate that proshippers are ignoring this and starting to harass them. You don't know their situation and how they are an anti. (No it doesn't excuse their harassing behavior, but it your the adult, just block them. It's way better than harassing a minor. Because they will clown on you.)

That's all I really have for 'Advice'. I can give you a list of proshippers to block because some of them are 💀🤨.

Thank you!!

I’m pretty good at blocking the straight-up hate mail but I’m bad at not engaging with things that seem like ‘learning opportunities.’

Like, so many people think that proship means something that isn’t the way I use it! Which leaves me wondering if people’s DNIs actually apply to me as a person who uses the proship label.

Thank you, yes, harassing antis has never been the way to go, that’s such a good point. I have friends who self-identify as antis but are fine with problematic media made by other people, they just don’t want it near them. (And again, this is why I feel the need to educate people who send hate mail: that doesn’t mean that you’re an anti it just means you’re uncomfy with some media!! So are most people!)

Anyways, yeah. This is my proship blog and I love that it’s a space where I can be problematic openly without triggering anyone.

But I’m still unsure about whether I should reveal myself as proship on my other request blog. I only write gen fic on that blog so it’s not even relevant!!! And it’s a safe comforting space that I don’t want to bring discourse into!! But also I’m tired of feeling like I’m lying or hiding and I’m tired of seeing ‘proship DNI’ in my notes and not knowing whether to block them

[lunatens]

just wanna be with you

-

requested by anon <3 tysm lovely!! sorry this is suuuuper cheesy lol, i hope u like it!! also sorry if there are mistakes, i didn’t really edit it much >_<

prompt: “out of everyone on earth, why did my soulmate have to be you?”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 1.9k

genre: fluff, high school au, soulmate au, maybe a little bit of angst? (mc has some ✨trust issues✨)

pairing: han jisung x gn reader

“y/n!!!!! happy birthday!!” a loud voice resonates through the cafeteria. you groan, wishing you could vanish from the face of the earth as all eyes turn to either you or the source of the yelling--a boy who you would really, really rather not be seeing right now. you tug on your sleeve to make sure your forearm is covered before you feel someone slide into the seat beside you, and you don’t even bother turning your head to see who it is. han jisung, your school’s resident funny popular boy who gets along with any and everyone. 

everyone except you, that is. his class clown personality only irritates you; you’re sure it’s all just an act to get people to like him or something. plus, he must be the most annoying person on the entire planet. every time you just want to sit by yourself and read or scroll through social media, there’s jisung to interrupt you. in fact, even when you’re with your friends he finds a reason to approach you and try and draw your attention towards him. your friends say you’re just in denial of your real feelings towards him, and you find yourself mentally puking at the thought. okay, you think he’s maybe kinda cute (not that you’d ever admit that to anyone) but that’s just more of a reason to despise him, right??

it’s no secret to anyone that jisung has a huge crush on you; for over a year now he’s tried everything in the book to get you to go out with him. nevertheless, his advances are always shot down. minho’s tried to get you to at least give him a chance, but he’s long given up his efforts. see, no matter what anyone says, you know deep down inside that jisung’s just trying to embarrass you. the second you agree to a date, he’ll laugh in your face, or even worse--he’ll stand you up and the whole school will laugh at how pathetic you are for thinking someone like him would actually like someone like you.

sure, felix said that’s all crazy, and hyunjin called you delusional and overdramatic for thinking that, but what do they know! they aren’t the ones who have to deal with jisung’s endless pestering and teasing (hyunjin says it’s just flirting, but you aren’t so sure about that). 

you just wanted to eat lunch alone in peace tucked away in the corner of the cafeteria, is that too much to ask? most of your friends are away on a class field trip today; normally you eat with jeongin when this happens since neither of you are in the same class as your friends but unfortunately, he’s at home sick today so you’re stuck eating alone. not that you mind all that much; it’s a good opportunity to catch up on schoolwork while you eat, and it can be refreshing to have a small break from the chaos of your friend group. 

but today of all days, you really don’t want to see jisung. today’s your seventeenth birthday, which means at midnight last night, you experienced the wonderful and exciting moment when your soulmate’s name appeared inked onto your forearm. needless to say, shocked and disappointed hardly begin to describe how you felt when the name “han jisung” appeared on your skin. you honestly couldn’t believe it at first; maybe felix figured out some elaborate prank, but the more you rubbed at the black letters in an effort to make them disappear the more you realized han jisung really is your soulmate. 

hearing jisung’s voice made you feel queasy with...nerves? dread? yeah, let’s go with dread, definitely not any other feelings. your palms feel clammy and heat rises to your cheeks when he slides in beside you, and you do your best to act natural when he comfortably slings an arm around your shoulders.

“so y/n, i know it’s your seventeenth birthday today…” jisung begins, voice oozing with that confidence you’ve come to hate. you finally turn your head to see him grinning at you expectantly, although his smile isn’t quite as wide as you thought it’d be.

“yep, it is indeed. now please go away,” you reply. you’re not going to give him what he’s looking for; for now you’ll just keep stalling until you can think of what to say--you know jisung won’t leave until he has an answer about your soulmate. you don’t want to lie to him, but you don’t think you’re quite ready for him to find out the truth just yet. 

“...soooo you’re gonna show me my name on your wrist, right?” he asks, and..are you hearing right? is there a slight waver in his confidence? you try to read his facial expression for any falters in his normally strong front, but now you’re doubting yourself. you’re just hearing things, or maybe he’s just nervous you’ll finally find out he was pranking you all along.

“what makes you so sure it’s your name on my wrist?” you respond, quirking your eyebrows at him.

“just a feeling. i know you and i are meant to be, y/n,” he comments with a wink, and your eyes flick down to his exposed wrist to double-check he doesn’t know anything. you’re pretty sure he hasn’t had his birthday yet, and your thoughts are confirmed when you spy his bare skin, devoid of ink. 

“well, maybe you’re wrong,” you mutter, turning back to your schoolwork. you don’t know how long you can keep this up for, especially not when jisung’s so close to you. 

“then you gotta show me who it is at least, y/n. i’d rather you break my heart now than make me wait til my birthday,” he jokes, although now you’re sure there’s a more serious undertone to his words. 

“no.” you reply. you’re starting to get annoyed with jisung’s persistence, why can’t he just leave you alone and wait for you to tell him when you’re ready?

“awe come on y/n, please?” he begs, leaning his head down onto the table so you can’t avoid his puppy dog stare.

“i said no, jisung, now i’d really appreciate it if you left me alone.”

“i promise i will if you just-” jisung reaches to gently tug at your sleeve, and you snap.

“ugh, out of everyone on earth, why did my soulmate have to be you?” you mumble as you pull your arm away from his grip. you freeze as the realization hits you--you just told jisung the very thing you were trying so hard to keep from him. jisung looks equally as shocked as your eyes dart to his for a split second before you hastily grab your things and walk away from the table, leaving a speechless jisung behind you.

you walk out into the hallway where a few students stand or sit, hanging out comfortably as they wait for class to start again. there’s a spot near the music hall you know you can probably hide from jisung for the rest of lunch, and then you’ll just try your best to avoid him at least for the rest of the day. that might be hard, seeing as he sits right behind you in your english class, but maybe you can just skip-

“y/n!! there you are, wow you walk fast,” jisung says as he catches up to you. there aren’t too many students in this section of the hallway, which you’re grateful for--you can feel your eyes starting to well up with tears as you anticipate the embarrassment you’re about to experience.

“jisung, i’m really not in the mood,” you mutter, your voice cracking a little as you avoid eye contact.

“why’d you run away? hey, are you okay?” he asks. his voice is soft and sincere, which surprises you--you didn’t think he was capable of such emotions. 

“no, jisung, i’m not okay. you’re my soulmate which really sucks because i know you don’t even like me like that and you’re just trying to mess with my feelings and-”

“woah woah, i’m sorry, what???? why would you think i don’t like you?” jisung asks. he stops walking, prompting you to stop as well, now a couple of steps in front of him. 

“i-i don’t know, you’re just always so goofy and joking around, i just assumed you were playing a prank on me or something,” you explain. you stare at your shoes, too afraid to look at jisung right now. he steps forward, tentatively lifting a hand to your chin and raising your head so you’ll look at him.

“y/n, i’m telling you now, i really, really like you. like, probably too much. why do you think i haven’t dated anyone else this whole time?”

“i-”

“i’m sorry for coming off that way; to be honest, i couldn’t really handle the idea that you didn’t like me back, or that your soulmate might be someone else, so i just tried to play it off. honestly, when i came to talk to you today, i really wasn’t expecting to actually be your soulmate. i thought you’d say some other name, and i’d laugh it off and pretend i wasn’t heartbroken, so when you said i’m your soulmate, i didn’t even know how to react,” jisung explains.

“yeah, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you so quiet,” you joke, a tsunami of relief washing over you. you smile gently, your nerves and embarrassment washed away only to be replaced with a new, unfamiliar emotion. well, you shouldn’t say unfamiliar--you’ve felt twinges of it before, like when jisung lent you a calculator for a test or helped you up when you tripped in the hallway, but you always shoved those feelings down, not wanting them to grow into anything dangerous. but now, you suppose, you can let them flourish as you come to terms with the fact jisung genuinely does have feelings for you. it’s sort of weird seeing him flustered and embarrassed, but you think it’s cute. 

the bell rings suddenly, signifying the end of lunch; just minutes before, lunch couldn’t be over soon enough, but now you find yourself wishing it could go on longer so you could talk to jisung more. how are you supposed to focus on class after all of this? your thoughts are interrupted as you feel jisung’s arm slip through yours as he gently guides you to start walking to class.

“so do your friends know yet?” jisung asks as you weave through the sea of students. the two of you get more than a few stares on your way to class; you are linking arms with the han jisung, of course, and you’re not trying to shove him away for once. 

“only jeongin, and i made him swear not to tell the others. i didn’t wanna deal with all of them just yet,” you admit. “ugh, they’re never gonna let me live this down,” you groan, leaning your head onto jisung’s shoulder, and he thinks he might explode at how cute you are. 

“but it’ll be worth it, because you have me!” jisung says. “we can handle a little teasing, right?”

“yeah...you’re right,” you reply with a soft smile. it’s starting to sink in that wow, you’ve actually found your soulmate, the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with, and your stomach bubbles with excitement as you finally feel at peace with jisung by your side.

[writeofmind]

a ghost?! (pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, slow burn, multi-shot <3

Pairing: College!Rosé x Reader

anon: Hi! If possible could you make a master list of all the fics and scenarios you have posted? 😅 I’d also like to request a blackpink college AU focused on Female Reader x Rosé 🥺 lots of fluff and maybe some slow burn and smut? I’d be happy with any Rosé fluff or blackpink fluff though 🤍🤲🏻 thank you 😊

A/N: hi, j anon! this is part 1/? of your slow burn college!au. :D I will try to make this as slow and fluffy as possible. i don’t have a specific plot that i’m sticking to rn, but i have general ideas that i’m very excited to write. that being said, feel free to send in suggestions as to how you want this story to go! (or you can leave it up to me, and be in for cute surprises >:) ) 

a ghost?! | caramel lattes | your favorite regular

-

There were two things that you learned from living your college life. One, you definitely weren’t a morning person, and two, your roommate was a ghost. 

Not literally. The thing was just that you had never formally met them; when you moved in, they weren’t home, and when you would wake up in the afternoons, they would already be long gone and out of the house. Your schedules never lined up with each other, so for the past few weeks, you’ve just been barely missing them, not even knowing their name. 

You didn’t mind, really. The apartment was kept clean at all times, so it really did feel like only you lived there sometimes. But, you can say: if your roommate was a ghost, then they were the loudest ghost. Ever.

It was just your luck to be paired with them, too; they would be up at the crack of dawn, most times even earlier. You’d often wake up in the mornings to music playing or their (you’re sure you can say her) voice singing along. If you were being honest, the latter was your preferred way of waking up. She did have a wonderful voice, and you wished you could get yourself out of bed to tell her that; but she just woke up way, way too early. 

Today was another one of those days. Music was blasting in the background, yet another replay of “Call Me Maybe.” 

Ugh, god... you raised your head at the rude awakening, squinting your eyes at the door. Not this song again.

Based on what little you knew about your roommate, you had an image in your head of what she may look like. To put it short, you imagined a sorority girl, in a way. The type that dance and sing along to pop songs, dresses in tank tops and jeans, partying everyday, that sort of thing. You figured that maybe she didn’t party a lot though, considering she was already home and sleeping when you would walk through the front door. 

You let your head drop back into your pillow. You were too groggy and beat from work the night before that you blocked out the song, blocked out your roommate’s singing, and fell soundly asleep once again as her music faded out the front door and into the hallways of your apartment. Jeez, that girl needed some headphones.

When you woke up a few hours later, the apartment was silent. There was a sigh of relief from you, and you groaned as you stretched your entire body out. Class started in about an hour and a half, so you decided not to laze around in bed and instead get ready for the day.

When you walked into the kitchen to grab something quick to eat on your way to campus, you smelled something delicious. Sniffing the air, you smelled... something spicy? 

Sure enough, when you walked inside, there was a pan of tteokbokki sitting right on the stove. The aroma of the spiciness itself made your mouth water the closer you got to it- then, you saw a note next to it, sitting right under a bottle of water.

Good morning, roomie! I heard you come home late last night, (not that I was trying to be a stalker, but I couldn’t sleep so I was still up when you got back. Crazy, right?) Anyway, I figured you didn’t eat because I didn’t hear you in the kitchen, so I made extra tteokbokki this morning for you to take with you. I made it a little too spicy, so make sure you grab the water too!!

- PC

Your eyebrows raised higher the further down you read the note. She made you breakfast? And packed you a water? 

How sweet of her, you smiled. You wasted no time in scooping a whole bunch of the delicious rice cakes onto a plate and devouring every single piece. (She was right, though, it was super spicy.) 

That was really sweet of her. I should do something for her, too. I feel bad that I haven’t thought to even leave a note. And PC, huh? I wonder what that could stand for. I should make a mental note to ask. 

After eating and cleaning everything up, you realized that you wasted a little too much time in your own head and was running a bit behind schedule. You grabbed the water bottle quickly and ran as fast as you could out the door, into the elevator, and out the main lobby of your apartment. You didn’t even notice the blonde haired girl you almost ran into along the way. 

-

When you were finished with your school day, you always dreaded having to go to work afterwards. Not that it was a terrible job, you were just a barista at a café near campus, after all- but you would be tired and drained after pulling afternoon to closing shifts.

So there you stood, leaning against the counter top at your job as you sipped away at a small cup of espresso. You and your coworkers chatted absentmindedly. It wasn’t too busy tonight, except for a few straggling students that stayed to study. Your manager had even offered to let you go home early, but you decided you needed the money- you were practically getting paid to stand around, anyway.

The bell on the door jingled after what seemed like hours (and maybe it was). Your coworkers, all clowns, hid away from the incoming group of customers and shuffled behind the counters, leaving you to take care of them all. You glared at them and groaned internally, but that was the rules of a college student barista. If you’re not fast enough to hide, you face the consequences.

“Hey, guys,” you put on your smile as you approached the register, “what can I get for you tonight?”

When the girls got closer, you were glad that your hat was a bit too big for your head. It covered the burning read at the top of your ears at the sight of how pretty they were— all four of them, to be exact.

One of the shorter ones smiled back at you. “Hiii,” she greeted, “do you guys know what you want?”

The redhead of the group spoke up first. “Yes, can I just have a tea, please?” She turned to the other girls, “I noticed that my voice has been kind of raspy from rehearsal. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

You minded your own business as you punched in the order. “Of course, and for you?” You looked at the tall brunette, who was squinting at the menu board. You had to hide a laugh as you slid a smaller menu to her. “Here you go, our menu is printed kind of small.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you,” she laughed and took the menu in her hands. The shorter one that spoke earlier laughed too and simply pushed the brunette’s hands down. 

“Can we just get two large white mochas, please?” 

You smiled as you punched in that order too. “Of course.” You now turned to the final girl of the group, who stood silently, staring back and forth at the pastries in the case and the menu board. “For you, miss?”

When she looked up at you, you froze. 

Wow, she was cute. 

She smiled at you so sweetly, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “Um, yes please, can I get all of the vanilla scones that are in here? Oh, and a caramel latte, please.”

Just from eyeballing the case, there were at least 10, if not a couple more scones in there. You glanced at her with a humorous smile and nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

As you punched in the order, you made sure that you only rang her up for four scones. It was almost near closing time anyway (you told yourself that, but really you still had a couple hours left), and you didn’t want to have to waste any pastries. 

“Can I have your guys’ names for your drinks?” You popped the tip off of your sharpie. 

The redhead, again, spoke first. “Jisoo.” 

Then went the brunette. “Lisa,” she then pointed to the shorter one, “Jennie.”

Lastly, you turned to the blonde. Again, she smiled, and nodded when she spoke. “Rosé.”

Such a pretty name, you thought to yourself. You made it a point to draw a little flower next to her name, just for funsies. You let them know that their drinks would be ready soon, and you gathered all the scones in the case for the girl to have.

The girls didn’t notice the price difference at first when they paid. After calling out their names for their orders, it wasn’t until they sat down at their table with their drinks and snacks that they realized something was off. 

It was Rosé who came back up to the counter as you were wiping it down. 

“Um, hi,” she spoke softly as if not to surprise you, “I’m sorry, but I think there may have been a mistake?”

You looked up at her from the counter with raised eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was your drink wrong?”

“No, not at all! It’s great,” she shook her head and showed her bag of scones, “but, um, I think you mischarged me for these.”

Ah, so she did notice. “No miss, that’s okay,” you laughed at her innocence and honesty. Her face even looked worried just from you saying that. “We’re going to be closing in a couple hours anyway, and to be honest, the scones can be a bit overpriced when you buy a lot. Don’t worry about it.”

Her eyebrows were furrowed in the cutest way possible. “But— are you sure? You won’t get in trouble?”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’s fine, really miss.”

“Aww... well, thank you—” she beamed and squinted at your name tag, “Joy.”

Aw, shit. You internally slapped yourself in the face, I put on the wrong apron. 

Of all days to be talking to a cute girl, you weren’t even wearing the right apron with the right name tag. You really didn’t want to have to explain yourself and essentially embarrass both you and the girl right now, and you were quite frankly a bit shy already from talking to her for as long as you have. So you just smiled back. “It’s no problem, Rosé.”

With a giggle, the girl turned back around and hopped over to her table, where you could hear her recounting your conversation. You chuckled.

-

As your shift went on, the students inside the café began to disperse and pack up their bags to head home. One of the last students to leave was the group of girls you served earlier, and they even made sure to call out “bye, Joy!” as they left. Your coworkers looked at you funny but ended up laughing at your awkwardness once they realized your mistake.

“Oh, come on, y/n!” One of your best coworkers, Seulgi, laughed, “Now you’re gonna be known as Joy to them! Joy is not going to be happy.”

“Look, man, I didn’t wanna correct her, alright??” You sighed and palmed your forehead, “I got nervous!”

“Ah, well,” your other coworker Yeri shrugged, “at least you may not see her again. So you don’t have to be too embarrassed.”

Your shoulders dropped at the sound of that. You may not see her again? Boo. 

Your closing shift went by smoothly and before you knew it, you were walking through the threshold of your already dark apartment. You saw that your roommate’s door was closed and her light off, but her shoes were on the shoe rack, so you knew she was already sleeping. 

You almost went straight to your room to knock out before remembering what your roommate did for you this morning. You didn’t want to just leave her hanging and make yourself seem ungrateful, so you grabbed a post-it note and a pen.

Hi there, roomie, you began, thank you for the tteokbokki this morning! It was delicious, actually, and I only needed a few gulps of water between each bite. (lol, i’m just teasing, it really was good. i love spicy food.) i’m not sure if you like flavorings in your coffee, let alone if you like coffee or not, but here’s some for you for the morning, since you’re usually up earlier than me. you can use any of my coffee cups, i have way too many.

- y/n

After setting up the coffee machine to brew in the early morning, you stuck the note on top and dragged yourself into your room to get ready for bed. 

-

The next morning, you woke up to silence. No music, no singing, nothing. And it wasn’t early in the morning- it was the usual time you yourself would get up and out of bed.

Huh? you wondered, This feels... unnatural.

You got yourself out of bed and ready for your day as you normally would. You walked into the kitchen for your usual breakfast of coffee and a single granola bar, when you saw yet another note waiting for you on the kitchen table.

it’s no problem at all! i almost thought you hated the tteokbokki when i didn’t see any feedback when i got home. TT TT it’s so funny that we haven’t even met yet. btw, i’m sorry i’m loud in the mornings, i never realized how late you got home every night. i’ll let you sleep in more. :) and you’re so sweet, thank you for letting me use one of your cups, and thank you for the coffee this morning :)

p.s, just so you know a fact about me too, i love caramel in my coffees.

- PC

[feralnumberfive]

Your response to the anti-vaxxer anon was good, although it´s sad that it´s necessary to deal with anon hate in the first place... :/ Sending a distant high five to compensate for the hate ❤ :) Have a nice day (or night, whatever it is)!

Hey thanks anon, here's a virtual high five right back at yah! 🖐 Yeah it's a little sad (and pathetic) to get anon hate, and I didn't actually care to argue with them because I don't have the mentality to try to communicate with them properly because they sound absolutely ridiculous 😂 So I just dealt with it in a silly way to just show that they are a silly person who sounds like clown and that their words have no affect on me. I haven't received anything else from them, which is surprising, but if they see this then I say they come back but off of anon! Sending hate through anon is pretty cowardly lion of them if you ask me 🥱 You have a fantastic day and or night too!! 💕 (<- this is for you my precious anon not my cute little immunized anon)

[its-kall-the-clown]

okay @ that anon, i'm. holy shit (head in hands)

one thing,,, can be easier and more relaxing than another thing? writing requires thinking. and with what kall is writing, it requires a whole lot of mental strength (i think that's the term yeah) !!

it's not an excuse :/ kall is taking a break from writing heavy stuff, and let them !!! (i forgot your pronouns im sorryfhhdjfjsn)

anyway, hope you enjoy your drawings you silly clown, make sure to eat well and hydrate !!

Like they said!! ^^^^^^

Some things take more mental energy than other things for me. Both stories I'm working on have some pretty dark subject maters TBH and so it's important i go in with a strong mind.

Drawing my cringe art dosnt take as much mental strength to do because it's purely self indulgent stuff with my OC lol.

Thank you!!!! I'm actually eating and hydrating now because I know people will come for me if I don't LOL. 🌼🌸💕🤡💐

PS since you asked: I go by they/them but accept he/him.

Plus if you get my pronouns wrong I'm very chill about it since I'm not out opening IRL so no worries there.

[bigtittydemonwife]

Headcanons for laughing jack, jane, jeff, ej and toby meeting their soulmate and starting a relation ship with their soulmate? With either "the first words they tell you are on your wrist" or "a timer counts down until you meet them" trope -tea anon

I’m a slut for soulmate aus, I went with the word one I hope you don’t mind

Laughing Jack 

“I like your style” the words were as clear as day on his wrist, when he asked Issac about it Issac happily told him

When he realised what it meant he was sh o o k

imaginary friend/demon clowns can have soulmates?

Apparently 

meanwhile you can’t wait to meet your soulmate so you can sock them in the face 

“thanks doll-face....wait...bloody hell!”

it was an odd one, took up most of your wrist to, at least it wasn’t casual

you both lived your life until you became a proxy of Slenderman, you were walking around the mansion trying to meet other people, when you walked into the kitchen there stood a 7′3 clown with no colour, you started at him for a while until he turned around and saw you 

“I like your style” 

The moment it left your mouth you panicked, was this your soulmate?

“thanks doll-face....wait...bloody hell!“

You choked on the drink you were drinking. 

How they start a relationship

you realise quickly that a relationship with LJ isn’t what you’d see as a normal relationship by far  

Hes a murderous clown and the only human emotion he’s ever felt in the longest time has been rage

its confusing for both of you

he doesn’t really show you love at first

because he thinks, you’re his soulmate, you can’t leave him

but then he hears that another creeps soulmate ran away from them and married someone else so they had to kill them 

then he gets scared

like really scared

he doesn’t show affection like normal people do

at first its tiny things, like tiny touches that linger a little longer, small gifts left outside your room (things like unpoisoned candy and trinkets)

the longer your there the more he gets used to the idea of having someone there for him again

He gives affection like a cat, headbutting and lies on you at the worst times 

It’s like that guy and his cat Cooter on tiktok 

He gives the bestest hugs honestly

And he will carry you everywhere even if you don’t need it 

Jane The Killer

“You’re....really pretty”

She loves her words, they’re so sweet 

She’s honestly excited to meet her soulmate

yes nervous, but excited, she wants to have someone to love her and someone to love

After the garbageman incident she gets even more anxious, 

what if you don’t love her?

what of you think she’s ugly?

but she remembers her words and her love grows

whenever she gets nervous she rubs her fingers over the words

once she meets you you’re just chilling on the couch with Ben playing games when she sits down next to you

“You must be new here”

You have a mini gay/straight panic attack

“you’re....really pretty”

Jane has a mini heart attack to

before shes over the moon

How she starts a relationship

Shes a little scared, but she wants to start to get to know you

its no surprise she falls in love

shes not used to loving someone as much as she loves you

it does scare her at times

the thought that you could be injured keeps her up at night

yes you both cannot die as proxies, but she knows what its like to go though immense pain and not die

and trust me sometimes she wishes for the latter

but she will learn that fear needs to be controlled, it cannot control you

(also she sees you Batista bomb Jeff and she falls even more in love)

she will cuddle you a lot

affection is a must

if Jeff tries anything she will absolutely demolish him

she finds it hard to show you love sometimes because shes scared of losing you 

she loves to take naps with you  

she will pamper you endlessly 

Jeff

“suck my dick joker wannabe”

He hated his words, for most of his life he had no idea why his soulmate was calling him that

until the incident happened

One day he crawls though someones window ready to kill them but gets a show thrown at him 

“Suck my dick joker wannabe”

He laughs so hard honestly 

he decided not to kill you and instead kidnap you

so yay Stockholm syndrome 

(sorry but this man is not mentally stable so you’d have to be insane if you think any of his relationships are healthy)

How he stared a relationship

God good luck to you

that’s all I could really type 

yeah basically he kidnapped you

A relationship with him is a rollercoster

He acts like the world revolves around him 

He actually likes napping with you and holding you but he never lets you know

he whispers his secrets and how he actually feels to you when you are asleep 

yes he does love you

its shocking he can have soft moments with you, but they’re either very short or very disguised 

come on, its Jeff, 

So if you like emotionally constipated men who only show their love by fucking, degradation and not murdering you then welcome to the life of Jeff’s soulmate

Eyeless Jack

“...you look...majestic”

His words always confused him, how could someone think he was beautiful? He never believed the possibility of something like him having a soulmate

When he’s crawling into someones house looking for some food, before he can cut them open they wake up and imminently start thrashing

they knock him and themselves off the bed 

He raises his hand to stab them and they knock his mask off, he’s shook and they’re both still. black tar slips out of his eyes and onto their face

“...you look...majestic”

He feels like his heart is gonna pop out of his chest

he puts one hand on your cheek and manages to raspily whisper

“Soulmate?”

Yeah not the person you expected to be universally bonded to, but you’re not in any ways disappointed (If you’re a monster fucker then 1: welcome to the club and 2: you are the luckiest mf alive)

How he starts a relationship

emotionally stunted he is

it takes aggggeeess for him to realise that soulmate=lover

then he gets nervous

he will avoid you for a while

leaving you wondering

he doesn’t feel like he deserves love, that he deserves a soulmate, that he deserves you. 

but he begins to realise the more he leaves you alone the longer you don’t have a soulmate

he believes the fates got it wrong

once again it’ll take a while for him to come back

when he does, don’t make a big deal about it, hug him, tell him you’re glad to see him again and act casual

once he finally starts to realise ‘oh shit maybe I do deserve this’

(yeah no shit)

expect a lot of affection. Not in public though

in private you get all the cuddles you want

hes a big spoon, he likes to wrap you in his arms. it makes him feel like he’s keeping you safe 

Ticci Toby

“Cool goggles”

His words confused him to no end

Once he donned goggles he started to think that he didn’t have a soulmate

Or maybe that they had died before he met him

When he finally the new proxy he didn’t see them as anything to special until they looked at him, smiled and said

“I like your goggles”

He nearly dies

Then he panics

He’s like ‘hhhhh....soulmate....me?’

When he can finally form sentences

“Fuck”

You couldn’t help but laugh

“You are aware how I’ve spend my whole life with that on my wrist?”

How they start a relationship

He wants to start one straight away

He can’t wait to get to know his soulmate

He’ll fall in love pretty quickly to be honest

All the fucking affection is given once you start

He treats you like a queen like he couldn’t do anything without you

Because to be honest he has trouble

You two have to sleep together even if it ain’t sexual he just wants to be near you

[dailymallek]

Went with something a little different, and decided to make it a life or death situation in which Mallek’s mind powers awaken. 

Thanks again for the ask anon, I had a lot of fun writing this piece!

- mod kai

“So you’ve never tried to see if you have them?!” Diemen yells, his voice suggesting he’s genuinely shocked by the other’s casual statement.

“Nope… In the almost nine sweeps of my life, I’ve never tried to see if I have them, let alone use them.” Mallek shrugs, grabbing his drink from the vending machine.

“Whoa… Never?” He looks at Mallek who just shakes his head in response to him. Diemen takes a bite from his hot dog. “Mmm… I thought all bluebloods had a different mental power?” His words are mixed with his chewing.

“Not all of us… Some blues can develop more manipulative psychic powers as opposed to your caste’s telekinesis, or a gold’s psionic powers…” Mallek explains before taking another big swig from his drink.

“But it’s still a rarity, like… 20, 22% of us can get the power.” They start walking off back to Mallek’s hive.

“Ah, okay…” Diemen takes another bite from his snack. “But you’ve never tried to see if you have them?”

“Not really, it’s never been an interest of mine to explore…” Mallek responds, his focus was always on his hacking, and information gathering, he wasn’t keen on learning about his potential psychic powers.

“Oh, well if you're sure. Still, it’d be pretty cool if you could.” Diemen finishes his hot dog, a satisfied grin, wiping some of the crumbs off his lips. “That would be a cool thing for us to have in common. We’d be psychic BROS.” Diemen makes a gesture, imagining something cool.

“Psychic BROS huh?” Mallek chuckles, he always found his friend’s energetic behavior always refreshing, overall he was just great to be around.

“In that case, how can I not wanna try it?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but he lowkey feels that he and Diemen would be a little closer if they had something they shared.

“Really?” Diemen was a little eager, he was being serious about the two of them becoming psychic bros. “You don’t have to if it's something that doesn’t interest ya.”

“It’s worth a shot, and I don’t have any plans for the next few days. Let’s give it a shot.” Mallek smiles at the look of excitement on his friend’s face.

The next couple of days the pair spend the time trying to see if Mallek has any psychic powers, Diemen suggested that they try using the methods that rustbloods use to practice their telekinesis. A few books of telekinesis for beginners, some focusing techniques, however, it was all in vain, Mallek tried everything but he couldn’t manifest them. They even found a small book documenting other bluebloods’ psychic abilities, not a lot on how to activate them. But unfortunately, they were looking at this from the technical perspective, there were many angles to look at this from.

Mallek and Diemen were sitting in the park, Mallek was sitting on the grass, while Diemen was on the bench, holding a small bag of hot dogs as if it was a bag of popcorn. The blueblood looked a little exhausted, their latest attempt to make Mallek’s powers manifest was to exercise his body, having him run laps around the park. Mallek was still in the process of catching his breath, his hoodie was on the ground next to him, pale blue sweat running down his forehead.

“Well… It was worth a shot.” Diemen toss his friend a water bottle, Mallek catches it, taking desperate gulps from the bottle, before squirting some of the cooling liquid all over his face.

“Fuck… I don’t think this is worth it dude.” Mallek lays there on the cool grass, still gasping for air.

“We tried everything, I guess you're not in the 22%...” Diemen was more bummed than Mallek probably was, all their attempts hadn’t even caused a spark of power, nothing. “Sorry about that. But hey, at least we tried.”

“This was a total bust…” Mallek sighs, slowly sitting back up.

“You wanna grub dog?” Diemen offers one of his succulent meat products to Mallek.

“No, I’m fine… Let’s just go back.” Slowly he gets to his feet, a strained feeling around his legs, back, and arms.

“Alrighty.” Diemen hops off the bench, cradling his bucket of meat.

“It’s a shame, it would've been interesting to see if I could use any, but whatever.” Mallek isn’t too disappointed, again it was a big deal for him if he had powers, he was mostly attempting this for Diemen’s interests.

“Yeah, it would’ve been cool.” Diemen inhale another hot dog, consuming it in a matter of seconds. They exit the park and are now walking down the street.

While they were speaking, far ahead of them walking towards them was a large purpleblood, he was bleeding from his forehead, his clothing was torn, and his face a mix of anger and exhaustion. It looks like he had gotten into a fight, some of the blood on him was of different colors. His eyes were half-open until he saw Mallek and Diemen ahead of him, his vision then focused more on the shorter burgundy troll, gritting his teeth.

Mallek glances up and sees the purple, immediately feeling uneasy while Diemen is focused on their conversation and his snack. When they finally reach each other, the purple deliberately shoves into Diemen rather aggressively, making him drop his hotdog bucket, his eyes open up wider, a look of shock, before a surprising look of rage fills Diemen’s face. Mallek bites his lower lip, but before he can even attempt to calm his friend down.

“Are you KIDDING ME?! What the hell!” He yells at the purple who ignores him of course still walking away. “What’s your damage you clown ASSHOLE!”

That insult makes the purple troll stop, slowly turning around, his eyes glaring at both of them.

“Shit…” Mallek firmly grabs hold of Diemen’s shoulder, gripping it a little tightly, the rustblood glances at his friend and sees the somewhat frightened expression on Mallek’s face.

“Take it easy… We’ll move on and just ignore my friend.” Mallek speaks clearly but his tone was clearly nervous. Diemen gives the purple another look, scanning him up and down, and realizes how unstable he looks.

The clown snarls back at them, bearing his claws, he begins walking over to them. Mallek and Diemen cautiously step back, but with each step they make, the closer the purpleblood moves to them. Why does it have to be like this, Mallek thinks, why couldn’t he just ignored them, why did he have bump into Diemen, why did every highblood have to be a particular asshole to the lower castes just because they felt like it or in this jerk’s case, he was having a bad day and wanted to take it out on them. His hoverboard would’ve really come in handy, but he decided not to bring it with him, and he had to park his car too far away from the park, like an idiot.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need for t-” Mallek is cut off when the larger troll connects his fist with Mallek, he stumbles back, he receives another punch this time to his stomach, a look of pain twists into his face before he hits the ground hard.

Diemen doesn’t even have time to react when the subjugglator roughly grabs him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground, this troll was more than twice his size, kicking his feet against the air, trying to pull himself out of the troll’s grip. With little effort, the clown throws Diemen into the ground, a loud groan of pain when the small troll hits the hard concrete. The enraged clown begins whaling on Diemen, each time he fist hits him, or he kicks him, a noise or grunt escapes his mouth.

Mallek sees the larger troll attacking his friend, he quickly gets back to his feet, rushing to Diemen’s aid, the purpleblood sees him coming and before Mallek can even land a hit, the other grabs hold him and throw him over his shoulder, he hits the ground once again. To add further insult he swiftly kicks Mallek in his side making, him coughs up blood, clenching his teeth in pain, the clown snarls at Mallek before turning back to Diemen, his nails extended into claws, as he advances on Diemen…

“N-no… S-stop, leave him alone…” Mallek tries to get back to his feet, reaching out to the troll. “Stop…” He manages to get to his knees.

“I said to

” Mallek raises his hand out, his voice booms, echoing throughout the area, his eyes shut tightly in anger. His other hand was balled into a fist, shaking. He was tense all over with rage, a fit of deep anger, but there was another sensation, something new. A tingling feeling that rolls over him like waves.

It’s quiet, he can no longer hear the heavy footsteps of purpleblood. Mallek slowly opens his eyes, afraid to see what was happening, if Diemen was okay. Peeking at the sight before him, his eyes immediately shoot open in shock. To Mallek’s surprise, the other was standing still like a statue, frozen in place, his eyes were now filled with a blue aura, and on his forehead was now the glowing symbol of Mallek’s sign floating there in place.

“W-what…” Mallek gets back to his feet slowly, confused by what he was seeing. He then stares at his palm that he tried to reach out with, faintly glowing like the purpleblood.

“No way.” He realizes what’s happening, what he’s done. But there wasn’t time to stop and think about this, he goes to Diemen, checking on him. “Diemen, are you okay?” He gently shakes his friend, Diemen grumbles, slowly opening his eyes.

“Mallek?” Fresh blood drips from Diemen’s forehead, holding his head in pain. “What just hap-” He stops when he looks over to see the subjugglator frozen in place, glowing blue.

“Whoa… What’s going on?” Diemen takes a cautious step forward.

“Hey, don’t go near him.” Mallek grabs hold of Diemen, who just brushes him off, moving carefully towards the clown. “Dude… You did this?”

“Nevermind that, come on, let’s go before it wears off.” Mallek was eager to leave, he doesn’t know how long this will last. “Come on.” He makes another attempt to pull his friend away, but not before Diemen delivers a hard, swift kick to the frozen purpleblood’s crotch.

“Diemen!” Mallek yanks his friend’s arm, rushing away with him, turning the corner of the street in the direction of his car, once they were far enough the psychic link was severed and the purpleblood was released from the control. It was like waking from a dream and feeling the sting from Diemen’s kick, he drops to his knees holding his pained area, confused by what just happened.

[emmettspeakz]

Reddie prompt 🎈 After the events of chapter 2 (Eddie lives) they move in together. One day one of them is approached on the street by a clown that's promoting the new circus in town and has a mental breakdown. The other comforts. You can choose which is which, I don't mind~

Reddie prompt 🎈 After the events of chapter 2 (Eddie lives) they move in together. One day one of them is approached on the street by a clown that's promoting the new circus in town and has a mental breakdown. The other comforts. You can choose which is which, I don't mind~

Thanks for the prompt anon! Sorry this took so long to write~college is a bitch at the moment but I finally had a break to write. Feedback as always is really appreciated, whether it’s good or bad.

@g-ay-gatsby cuz you always want me to tag you in reddie stuff :P

Richie awoke in a cold sweat. He glanced over at his husband, shirtless, fast asleep with his face down next to him on the bed they shared. Their shiba inu lay down by the end of the bed, wagging his tiny fluffy tail back and forth at the sight of Richie standing up to get dressed. Richie grinned at the dog, a soft, tired grin and pat his fluffy head in greeting. He heard loud shouts and calls from outside their apartment window, and almost cursed out loud at them to quiet down less they wake up his beautiful sleeping husband. 

“Fucking bastards.” He grumbled. 

“Who you calling bastard?” Eddie mumbled into his pillow.

Richie moved a piece of hair from his husband’s face and forced himself to smile. 

“It’s nothing, Eds. Go back to sleep, baby.”

“It’s that stupid new advertisement across the street right Rich?”

Rich clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to admit what he felt deep down inside him, that the circus was the last thing he wanted to come across on the way to work. 

“It’s nothing Eds.” Richie repeated, more sternly this time, suggesting he didn’t want to talk about it, even to Eddie. 

Eddie dropped the subject, picking up his head from his pillow, his eyes still droopy from sleep. 

“Why don’t we go downtown today?” Eddie suggested, getting slowly to his feet. “It’ll get us away for a while.”

Richie smiled down at his husband, dipping down and kissing the top of his head. 

“Good idea, spaghetti man.”

“Be more original with your pet names, sweetie.” Eddie teased, slipping an arm into a white button up shirt. 

“Shut up, Edward.”

“Bite me, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I will!”

Richie and Eddie locked eyes and they grinned at each other before Eddie removed himself from the trance, smacking his husband on the thigh with the back of his hand.

“C’mon, get dressed and we’ll get going.” 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Richie fake groaned, pulling blue jeans over his gray boxers.

When they were all dressed and ready to go, they walked out the front door, holding each other’s hands unapologetically. 

They got pretty close to where their car was parked in the apartment complex’s parking lot before they were bombarded by a young man in full clown makeup. He was holding a red balloon in one hand and a poster in the other. He came up to them rather quickly, spouting his sales pitch for the new circus opening across the street from their apartment complex. 

“Hello there sirs! Have you heard about the new circus opening up behind you? We know it’ll be an awesome, fun time! We got balloons, clowns, acrobats of all kinds. Why not try going to a show?” The man thrusted the poster into Richie and Eddie’s faces. 

Richie immediately froze in place at the sight of the red balloon the man was holding. Everything he’d seen in Derry, all the comments about his sexuality, the stupid fucking clown that had terrorized his childhood, all the memories flooded over him at once and he could barely breathe. His hands went to his ears to drown out any and all noise, but the familiar creepy laugh of Pennywise the dancing clown filled them nonetheless.

 “Wanna play truth or dare?”

He heard those same words from his last encounter with Pennywise ring in his ears, causing panic to rise within him. His throat felt deathly dry, as if he was lost in a desert without any sign of water. He felt himself start to shake before everything started to phase in and out of focus. He wasn’t sure if he needed to throw up or scream. 

He was rooted to the spot, thinking of nothing else besides the trauma he’d suffered as a kid and as an adult: how he’d almost lost Eddie to the clown, how his friends had fixed up Ben after he’d been slashed by the clown, how they’d lost Stan in the sewers and he was almost devoured by the clown, the image of Bill’s little brother Georgie’s raincoat the only thing Bill had of him because of that damn clown.

And then there was Henry fucking Bowers...

It was all too much for him. Richie couldn’t even go into basements or certain kinds of bathrooms without freaking out, and now there was a guy reminding him of the exact thing that he’d been afraid of since middle school. It wasn’t just the threat of dying from a demon fucking clown. It was the kids bullying him about him being a fl*mer, dressing up as the clown just to torment him and call him the f word. It was everything that had to do with the stupid fucking clown. It’d terrorized his friends, and he’d almost lost two of them to that stupid fucking clown. 

He didn’t even register Eddie telling off the guy until he realized he was back sitting on their shared bed. He buried his face in his hands, crying softly, every once in a while those cries turning into body-rocking sobs that left him shaking with emotion. Eddie just held him and rubbed his back softly, waiting for an opportunity to reassure him verbally, as right now Richie was too wracked with sobs to be able to hear anything Eddie could say to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie whispered after a long time of Richie just crying and shaking. “The clown is gone, Rich. We killed the fucker. I’m here, Stan’s still here, all the losers are still here. I saved you and you saved me back. We’re here together. We fucking survived it all, Richie. I told you I loved you that day. Think of that instead. Do you hear me? I love you. I’m here, babe.”

Richie kept crying, wiping at the snot and tears spilling down his face. Though he brightened slightly when Eddie spoke, he still felt an overwhelming amount of fear wash over him like a wave pool, each wave worse than the last. He just kept shaking and muttering to himself and crying on and off, unable to shake the amount of panic that filled his very being. 

Eddie held him tighter, gripping his shoulders to try and steady him as his body shook violently along with his sobs. Richie just couldn’t get himself together. He just kept thinking about how he’d almost lost Eddie, how he’d lived in fear of the demon clown and being outed his entire life, and even now that he was happy and with the love of his life, he couldn’t forget that awful part of his life that he tried so hard to bury deep, deep, deep down within himself and never drag back out. But the man dressed as a clown outside across from their home had managed to destroy his well-kept wall in one fell swoop, leaving Richie a giant vulnerable mess. 

“It’s okay, Rich. Hey, hey, look at me.” Eddie picked up his husband’s face in his hands and forced him to look him in the eye, despite the tears pouring from his eyes. 

“We’re safe now baby. I’m okay. I’m here now. I saved you and you saved me, remember? We got together that day. Remember that? Come on baby, think.” Eddie pulled a tissue box from his night stand by their bed and offered it to Richie.

Richie sniffled, taking a tissue from Eddie to wipe his tear-soaked face. 

“Best day of my life.” Richie replied, his voice soft but somehow still confident.

“There ya go.” Eddie told him, holding him close toward himself and squeezing him tight. “What did you say to me?”

Richie forced himself to laugh, even though his chest felt like an dry, empty cavern from crying. He coughed hard and loud but made himself chuckle again. Eddie fetched him a glass of water, making sure not to leave his husband’s side for too long as he knew that right now Richie needed his comfort more than anything. 

“I didn’t even say anything. I was so relieved that you were...that you were---” Richie’s voice shook and he started crying again. 

“No no no, baby, Richie, come on. What did you do?”

“I kissed you so hard.” Richie sobbed. “I kissed you as soon as we got out of Neibolt house because I was so happy that we had survived and I wanted to ask you to marry me right then and there but I didn’t. I was too scared you were gonna hate me ‘cause I just fucking kissed you out of literally nowhere.”

Eddie smiled so wide he felt tears begin to form in his own eyes. 

“Yeah, I had to do that for you, ya coward.” Eddie teased lightly. Richie shoved him lightly in return. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You get credit for proposing before me for the rest of our marriage okay? Stop reminding me of the one win I missed out on!”

Eddie was relieved to hear Richie’s sass return to his voice, even if it was quiet and more reserved than usual. 

“Hey, wanna stay in bed and watch netflix or maybe I can read to you from that book?”

“You mean Brokeback Mountain? That’s pretty gay of you Eds.”

“We’re literally married, Rich. We’re two married gay men.”

“I know. I just--I just had to get you to say it.”

Richie looked at the ground again, and Eddie worried Richie was getting lost in his triggering thoughts again. He moved to cup his husband’s face with his hands holding his cheeks tightly in order to place a kiss on Richie’s soft lips. 

Even after all these years, Richie was still surprised to get kisses from Eddie. When he did though, they were always full of passion and genuine love. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t burst into tears every time he got to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak. Afterall, he’d been his childhood crush for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like him, someone who would take care of him when his mental health got the better of him.

“Thanks for always taking care of me Eddie,” Richie told him after a moment of silence between them. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Eddie just smiled at him.

“You helped me first with my asthma. I should be thanking you.”

It was Richie who kissed Eddie then. The kiss turned into a more passionate but sweet one, Eddie holding Richie’s face in his hands again, refusing to let him go. Richie doing the same, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and holding him close enough so that their heartbeats thumped on top of each other. 

“I love you Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie declared when they finally pulled apart for air.

“I love you too, Richie Tozier.”

[yoon-kooks]

In Circles & Shambles

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Spy!AU, meet cute

Summary: Your first mission as a new recruit is to track down your partner with limited communication and information. All you know is that he’s a dumbass with a charming voice and you’re destined to fail.

Prompt: spy!au + “I don’t even know why we’re doing this” requested by anon

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a spy!au, so enjoy! 🧐👌

✿✿✿

“Welcome, new agent of Bangtan,” you hear your boss say through your earpiece. “Before you can officially set out on missions, we have one last test in store for you.”

“What is it?” They’ve already thrown elaborate disguises, laser training, agility trials, and bomb diffusions your way. You think you can handle anything at this point.

“A partner.” Out of all the things to be thrown at you, you definitely were not thinking it would be a partner. You always assumed you’d be an independent, undercover agent. That was the appeal to becoming one in the first place. You don’t want or need someone else holding you back. “He’s somewhere hidden in the city, and you must find him within an hour.”

You don’t respond.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll connect you with him, so you can communicate via earpiece.”

“Okay.”

“We will be listening in and monitoring your every move, so please stick to these rules: 1) Agent A may speak and give directions, but not move. 2) Agent B may move, but not speak. 3) If you do not find your partner within an hour, both of your contracts will be terminated. 4) Breaking any of these rules will also result in termination of contract.”

“Am I Agent A or B?” You pray that you’re Agent A. You’re much more confident in giving directions than receiving them—especially if only one side is allowed to speak.

“Agent B.” Fuck. “Your time starts now… Good luck.”

As you await directions from your partner, you take in your surroundings: A high school, a recreational family park, a bus station, and your favorite coffee shop. Thankfully you’ve walked the city streets thousands of times, so you’re pretty familiar with the layout of the entire city at this point. It shouldn’t be too difficult of a task as long as your partner knows where he is.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” A low, groggy voice takes over your earpiece. He pauses as if you can answer back without penalty. “Oh right, you can’t talk.”

“…”

“Where are you right now?”

You don’t know if he’s taunting you into speaking, or if he’s genuinely an idiot. Either way, you already despise your partner, and it’s only been a minute.

At the same time, you know you need to cooperate with him. So you look for something with a distinct sound. The nearby park is known for its fancy giant water fountain, and it would be a dead giveaway as to where you are if your partner can correctly identify the sound. You quickly scurry in front of the water fountain, in hopes that your earpiece’s mic picks up the sound.

“Is that water? It doesn’t sound like the beach or a river…” He gives you an occasional hmm, taking his sweet time in thinking it through. “Oh I know. It’s the sound of watering plants. You’re at the City Gardens, right?”

“…” No, no you are not. But you can’t say anything because you’re useless Agent B. You’re only as useless as your incompetent partner.

“If you’re at the City Gardens, then all you need to do is…” He starts feeding you directions at an alarming rate which you can barely keep up with. You want him to shut up because 1) you’re not even at the City Gardens, and 2) even if you were there, it’d be awfully hard to follow his shitty directions. But again, you can’t even correct or clarify with him.

For better or worse, you know the general location of the City Gardens, so all hope is not lost. You mentally visualize yourself in that area and do your best to draw a map based on the directions given to you.

“Did you get all that?” he asks after his directing finally comes to a halt.

Looking back at your makeshift map, it seems to be leading you north of your current location. Whether it’s right or wrong, you don’t really have any other option than to start heading in that direction.

“I’ll repeat it for you again just in case you missed something,” he says, when you’re halfway to his supposed location. Clarifying his directions is the most considerate and responsible thing he’s done so far. And you can appreciate it to some degree, but you wonder why he decided to repeat it so damn slowly this time around. He doesn’t seem bothered that you’re both running out of time.

When he finishes repeating the full directions, you notice a discrepancy in the maps. One little extra turn set the paths off in two different directions. The first one went north, while the new one leads you back to the area you had started in. That means you’re either on your way to your partner, or back to square one.

“I’ll wait fifteen minutes, and if you haven’t arrived yet, we’ll figure something out.” It’s honestly starting to piss you off how he isn’t taking the urgency of the mission seriously. If it were up to you to speak, you’d be using those fifteen minutes to describe alternate routes in case this one doesn’t work out. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work out.

As soon as you arrive at the location following your partner’s first set of directions, you know someone fucked up big time because you’re standing in the middle of of a McDonald’s. It only takes an employee saying, “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you today?” for you to hear cackling through your earpiece.

“I’m not at a McDonald’s, babe.”

“I fucking hate you,” is what you want to say. Instead, you bite your tongue and order yourself some chicken nuggets which you will not be sharing with your dumbass partner.

“Should I repeat the directions again or-”

You crumble your McDonald’s carryout bag with your fists, and thankfully your partner takes the sound as a hint.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” For as calming as his raspy voice is, you are certainly not going to calm down when your entire spy career is on the line and ready to end in twenty minutes. “Since you’re at McDonald’s, I’ll give you some directions from there and we’ll be good.”

That’d be fantastic if there weren’t ten different McDonald’s locations around the city. You’ll just have to bank on the 10% chance that he chose the right one.

Ten minutes later, you’ve followed your partner’s directions and ended up right back where you started. The only thing you accomplished in fifty minutes was making a giant loop around the city while grabbing some nuggets along the way. At this point, you won’t complete the mission on time if your partner’s not nearby. You feel like a failure, even though you know you would’ve performed so much better if you had a partner you could actually rely on and communicate with.

The no speaking rule is what really did it for you. It doesn’t make any sense to test the communication skills between two partners if only one of them is allowed to speak. Sure, there may be instances as a spy that require stealth and complete silence on one end, but you’re sure the partners would have to establish nonverbal codes beforehand to make it work.

Using that logic, there’s no way to possibly succeed in this mission with the conditions you were given. And with just a few minutes left on the timer, you decide to break the rules.

“I don’t even know why we’re doing this. It’s literally impossible if the communication isn’t two-way,” you groan out of frustration and acceptance of your failure. “Just tell me where you are so at least one of us can pass.”

“I’m right behind you.” You hear a loud sip of something hot both in your earpiece and in the air behind you. When you turn your head, you see a young man with blonde hair stepping out of your favorite coffee shop with a cup pressed to his lips.

“Now, was that so hard, babe?” You’re extra angry because he has coffee and you don’t.

“I mean, no one told you to go all the way to McDonald’s,” he shrugs. He thinks this is funny. He thinks it’s funny that you’re the one with the terminated contract.

“Why wouldn’t you just say you were in that coffee shop in the first place?”

“Am I not allowed to test my partner?” The boy crosses his arms. “I don’t want a partner who always plays it safe and follows the rules.”

“So you wanted me to talk… and fail.” You shake your head in disbelief. How on earth did you get stuck with someone so shitty? “Well congrats. You got what you wanted, I suppose.”

“You didn’t fail,” he says. “I tested you, and you passed—not just in your quick detective and navigational skills, but also in what I need in a partner. Your willingness to risk yourself for the sake of your partner is what every Bangtan agent should encompass. You passed because you broke the rules.”

You blink at him, trying to comprehend what the truth is. “So what you’re trying to say is that you’re not actually an incompetent dumbass who sent me to McDonald’s? You just acted like that to test how I would handle the situation?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure… We’ll go with that,” he nods, eyeing your bag full of nuggets. He’s a dumbass: confirmed. He was totally just fucking with you. And you fell for it.

“So you weren’t a new agent also being tested? You were the one testing me?” You start stuffing your face with nuggets because this is a juicy plot twist you weren’t expecting. “Does that make you my senior?”

“Technically yes,” he says. “But we’ll go with partner. I’m Min Yoongi.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m thrilled to be working with you, Min Yoongi.” You trade him one of your nuggets for his entire coffee. He’s actually quite handsome when you really get a good look at him, but it’ll be a while before you forgive him for the hour of hell he put you through. “But I guess I don’t have a choice, and neither do you.”

“I-”

“You’re stuck with me now, Min Yoongi.” You wave, walking away with his coffee. He might’ve clowned you this time, but you’re sure you’ll be the one clowning him moving forward. Maybe having a partner will be alright.

[sui-senka]

The dumbest post

I think y’all should be here to witness the dumbest post I’ll ever make, as I’m not all about getting into discourse and that, and any other self-identifying Vergil lovers please come here:

@creepyscritches, @brasspetalsx, @fandomhell97, @breezeinmonochromenight, @kaldea88, @xalmasyx, @hornyangrybean, @noir-sorrow, @catspook, @xenontrioxide, @zilla-may-cry, @boobble, @vergilshusband, @tifaroni, @littlebluewraith, @im-a-clown, @genovaempera, @neodicronus, @thelessiknowtheworse, @thriilsy, @jestermania, @bunny-girl-sweetseek, @darka3363, @witchkiid, @45, @manadebutt, @magsamaire, @spaghetti-queerghetti, @clairexredfields, @204863-yunglynn, @yuri-subtext, @miss-soso-25, @josuke-kujo, @cameguisada, @trionfi, @glitteryhumanfiretrash, @lewdbunbun, @journalofsparda, @complacentdevil, @infernokid, @emogodmatthew, @brit-o-raptor, @salsa-and-chips, @gemstone-enema

I’d like y’all to bear witness, as I take down this bitch-ass clown. As I’ve blocked the person in question that I want to call out - please tag them into this post to have at them ;) Also - to the other people that didn’t get this, tag your mutuals and get them here.

I’d also like to announce that @thephantomporg84 is now masquerading as @derelict-stranger, and I got a few messages a few days ago about how she was gonna take down her account, and how she wants me to block all of you, which is ridiculous as you are all blogs that I have known and followed way before her and also I don’t know you either. I told her that I didn’t want to be involved in her drama, but here I am. 

It’s kinda hard for me to make this post, as I genuinely thought that she was cool in the beginning - she helped to give me more DMC asks in my inbox, and she always reblogged my stuff, as I’ve been trying to make it with the big guys - like @myfairmidnightladyspade.

But I saw the stuff that she says online to you all, and I think I got some anon messages from her asking if I was a terf or not... and yeah - my heart broke. I feel like I have been deceived in some way. What I wanted to be there was someone who was cool, and funny to talk to, but turns out that person is petty, heartless, immature and straight up spiteful.

I may have to justify myself in why I got messages from her - I was only trying to console her, but to do it in a neutral way as I wanted no part in her drama.

Also - i’m probably not gonna show any evidence for how much she sucks cause there’s tags and anon posts dedicated to that sort of thing

I want you on tumblr, and you on Reddit to find her, and in the /v/ section of 4chan to block her and report her for all she’s done. I want you to wipe her existence from the internet until there is nothing left.

Now - I need to change the flow of the conversation by directing it to you, @derelict-stranger.

I’d like you to kindly log off, take a breather and think, for a second about the actions that you’ve done to the people that I’ve mentioned above. 

I’d also like to tell you that your suggestion to block all those people above is complete nonsense. Why would you make me block blogs who have perfectly decent and awesome content, and to those who I have talked to longer than you? why would you make me block blogs who I don’t know? Quit trying to get me on your side. I want no part in your drama like I said before, and stop trying to manipulate me into getting me to give a shit about you.

I’d also like to tell you that your situation is entirely self-inflicted. That you trying to talk to me won’t work, the only reason that people are apparently “attacking you” - is because you, in fact, are the instigator, are the catalyst of all this hatred.

You - @derelict-stranger, lack any ability whatsoever to disagree well. From where I’m looking, all of this started because you don’t like Vergil from the Devil May Cry games and you don’t like the plot of 5, which seems extremely stupid to me, as he’s only a small-ish part of 1, one of the best boss-fights in 3 and just a mere mention in 4. The fact that you need to incessantly attack content creators who merely like him is stupid. Either keep those opinions to yourself, ignore them, or do my favourite -> stick ‘em up your big stupid ass.

It’s also stupid that when people merely like him - you have to bring in your own shitty opinions. No one asked you what you thought, and I’m pretty sure you’re actively seeking out fights with people just to feel good about yourself. It’s also super hypocritical of you ragging on about how much Vergil sucks, when you go crazy for Kylo Ren, as they share some similarities in terms of their vibes and traits. (Yeah - I see you asking for smutty Kylo Ren x Reader requests online.....) Why do you get pissy when people like villainous fictional characters - do your knickers

What I just want to know is what kind of personal gratification you get when you actively hate on a character, and what kind of gratification you get when just because someone disagrees with you - that you have to result using death threats, rape threats, pedophilia threats, racism, slurs, and ableism,  transphobia, alt-right rhetoric, neo-Nazi shit, pro-Trump, and homophobic comments to content creators just doin’ their own thing. Is it just to feel like the bigger man, is it to make yourself sound smarter than the other person (Cause you don’t) - like what actually motivates you, what actually makes you want to shit on other people’s parades, huh? Sounds to me like you need to get a life.

The fact that you always need to play the victim is sad and pathetic too:

- That you’re on the spectrum: - Okay, there are a lot of people who are on the spectrum here on tumblr. But they don’t use it as an excuse to justify shitty behaviour especially if it’s unitentional. as I’m sure they and the people they know are. I’m sure they apologise and try to get on with life like how NT people do. As you know - a lot of people of the spectrum feel like they’re being treated as sub-human being babies that do nothing but screech all the time, and they’re taking action to change those perceptions. Your behaviours are not helping their cause.

- That you use depression as an excuse - I’m kinda sympathetic to the whole mental health issues thing. I have them too. In fact, I am a hot mess. But I don’t use that to excuse me hurting other people with intention, and I’m sure many others don’t either. At least 1/4 or 1/3 will have some mental health issues in their life, and yeah, it sucks, and it’s common but it doesn’t make them exempt from them being called out on their shitty acts. the fact that so many people are and can be mentally ill doesn’t make you special, and it doesn’t give you a free pass to attack others.

- The fact that you try to bait people into making anti-semitic comments, so you can call them anti-semitic. Dude, that’s low. I’m pretty sure that’s gaslighting and manipulation as well. You don’t get the right to use your religion/race in that way as a defence when you’re feeling attacked so that you come off a better person. I’m friends with many jewish people, and they’d never have the gall to do that. I know that your peeople have had it rough, but you can’t use that in an argument just to prove that the other one is a piece of shit, when it is in fact you. I’m muslim, a WOC, and ancestrally speaking, from a country that your so-beloved president essentially banned their right to seek a better life in the states. For as long as I can remember - I’ve seen news about my kind being universally hated, I’ve been brought up in a post-9/11 world where for as long as I can remember that me and our kind are the enemy (so I can sympathise) - but you don’t see me and other muslims here using those petty tactics that you use, because unlike you, we’re not myopic and we know that won’t get us anywhere.

I mean, this behaviour sounds bratty and childish - so I was thinking, she’ll probably grow out of it. Then I find that you’re in you’re mid-twenties, and I think “you really haven’t grown up at all, have you?”, and honestly it just makes the behaviour worse as you are resulting to middle school/high school tactics -> especially making me block all those people, calling them sociopaths and evil bitches. This ain’t high school or Mean Girls, moron, this is a fandom. A place where people can create, share, like and comment on content that makes you happy. I don’t think you understand what that means - cause all I see, and everyone sees is you spewing hatred everywhere. Fandoms are supposed to make you feel included, feel happy, feel safe, be a place to make friends. I don’t think you know that, and I don’t think you are even smart enough to realise that you are the reason why our fandom isn’t happy.

And honestly, at this point, the hatred you are getting is well deserved. You deserve to feel like shit if all you are going to do is make others feel like shit.

I don’t know what else to say but:

1. Get the hell away from our fandom

2. Get rid of your internet connection.

3. Get a life.

4. We don’t want you here.

5. You’re scum.

6. Go suck a dick, or flick a bean, whatever gets you off you troglodyte.

I liked you man, I really did. Then I saw how you treat others, and now I know I made a dumb life choice in making friends with you. If only you weren’t such a piece of shit, we could have been good friends.

I don’t want you here on tumblr. They don’t want you here. No-one wants or needs a toxic parasite like you on this website.

Yours sincerely,

sui-senka, who just sucked Vergil’s dick yesterday, and liked it.

[santoteez]

Spooks and Apologies - Sunwoo

for the Anon: “ so i saw this AU “I work in a haunted house and you got extra spooked by me sorry” and then i also thought of this make it so y/ns friends force her to go the haunted house and a boy from her class works there and thought she was cute from the beginning of the school year and he thought it was super adorable the way she was hiding behind her friends said boy got a lil TEW excited and scared her a lil TEW much next day felt bad, apologized and asked to make it up to her w/ sunwoo from the boyz🥺 “

I hope this isn’t too crappy because I, just like Y/N, don’t do haunted houses so I have no idea how to describe them. But I tried my best!

Word Count:1,060

Idol: Kim Sunwoo of The Boyz

Genre: ooey-gooey fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes

________________________________________________________________

“Y/N Come on!”

“No.”

“Seriously Y/N, let’s just go in.”

“NO.”

Y/N’s friends all groaned at her stubbornness. The girls had been standing outside the haunted house for 10 minutes, which she refused to enter.

“Remember what happened last time we went to one of these things?”

Her friend, Destiny, rolled her eyes. “You peed your pants. In KINDERGARTEN.”

“Yeah, we’re in college now. You HAVE to put this fear to rest. Come on.” Another friend said, and together they dragged Y/N in. Once they were past the doors, they were met with void darkness. The sounds of owls and wolves played very lowly, almost as if they were coming from a far distance. Y/N cowered behind her friends but continued nonetheless. The girls screamed as something, or someone, ran past them, laughing maniacally. Suddenly, a light flashed, and a tall, headless man stood in their way.

Y/N screamed in terror as her friends laughed and squealed. She huffed, turning around. She was leaving; she’d had enough. She didn’t even make it five steps when a woman with frizzy hair and a crazy look in her eyes stepped in her path.

“Going somewhere, sweetie?” She said, her voice hoarse and dry.

Y/N gasped, frantically running back towards her friends, covering her face and peeking from in between her fingers.

“Guys? GUYS?” She called out receiving no response. She cursed mentally, realizing she’d lost them.

She took a deep breath. “It’s okay. I can do this.” She told herself. She trembled but continued walking. Besides the occasional howl and random objects popping out at her, the rest of the house was pretty tame.

She got excited when she saw the rest of the group, already in the backyard of the house.

“No way! There she comes!” Destiny shouted, and the other girls cheered.

Even though Y/N wasn’t having fun, someone sure was. Sunwoo, the boy from her Econ class that rarely paid attention but somehow always knew the answer. He was working the night shift as IT to make some extra cash, but it was a weekday, and customers were scarce. He was ready to take a nap before he heard Y/N and her screams of protest as she entered the house. Unbeknownst to her, Sunwoo was watching her every move. How she jumped at every sound, peeked out from over her friend’s shoulder, and how she freaked out when Gelsy blocked her way out. Everything she did made her cuter in Sunwoo’s eyes.

He watched as she made her way to the exit, a bit more confident now. He suddenly got the bright idea of scaring her one last time. He crept behind her, quietly and quickly.

“C’mon Y/N you’re almost there!” Her friends shouted, clapping when she made it to the doorframe.

“I did it! I really did it!” She jumped in delight.

Right then, Sunwoo lifted her off the ground and whispered, “Don’t be so sure.”

When Y/N turned around and saw the same clown face that terrified her all those years ago, she lost it. She screamed at the top of her lungs, pushing Sunwoo out of the way and running back through the house and out onto the street in tears.

“Y/N! Wait! It’s just me!” Sunwoo shouted, desperately wishing for the girl to come back.

“Nice going, Sunwoo. She’d have made it if it wasn’t for you.” Destiny sighed.

“Yeah, you just had to be dressed as the one thing that scares her the most.” Another friend, Kayla muttered.

“I didn’t know she’d react like that! I was just trying to scare her one last time! The haunted house was over!” The orange-haired boy retorted defensively.

“Come on, guys. Let’s go look for her.” Destiny said, pushing past Sunwoo, running out to the street, calling out for Y/N. And just like that, Sunwoo was left alone at the back porch, full of regret.

The next time Sunwoo saw Y/N was at the student lounge back at the university. He knew she liked to listen to music and cuddle up with a book on the couch around this time. She looked so peaceful, Sunwoo almost didn’t want to disturb her. But he straightened his back, a freshly made Starbucks drink in tow. He made his way over to her and stood there awkwardly, in hopes she’d notice him. And that she did.

She pulled out her headphones quickly. “Sunwoo?”

The tall boy immediately clammed up. “This is for you.” He said, shoving the drink in her face.

“Oh?” She said, letting go of her book to hold the large cup.

“It’s a vanilla bean Frappuccino with sprinkles and extra whipped cream and java chips.” He blurted out. “Your favorite. I think.” He added, scared he’d sound stalkerish.

The girl giggled, a sound that made Sunwoo feel intensely warm. “It is, I’m just trying to figure out what I did to deserve this?”

Sunwoo sighed. “Well, basically…I work in a haunted house and you got extra spooked by me, and I’m sorry.”

Her eyes bulged out. “YOU’RE IT?”

He nodded. “I was bored the whole night and I thought it would be fun to spook you one last time. I figured it’d be harmless since the tour was practically over. Destiny told me afterward how scared you are of IT and I felt really shitty after. I just really like you. I think you’re great and amazing and beautiful and if I had known how scared you’d get, I never would’ve done it. So I bought this as a peace offering.” He finally looked up at the girl, surprised to see her smiling.

“That’s cute and all, but I don’t think you’re forgiven just yet.”

“What? What do I have to do? I’ll do anything!” He asked nervously, rubbing his palms together.

“I’ll forgive you…in exchange for one lunch date.” She beamed. “You wanna get outta here?” She asked.

Sunwoo laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Lunch is on me.”

“Sunwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not thinking I’m weird for being afraid. You might’ve been scary back at the Haunted house, but you’re pretty sweet.” She said, sliding her hand into his much larger one.

Sunwoo smiled, his cheeks turning rosy. “No problem, let’s go.” He said, and they walked hand in hand out of the lounge.

Thanks, Anon!

[fans-of-fiction]

Tozier, Meet Right Hand - Richie Tozier x Reader (IT)

I owe the anon that requested this an apology because this imagine is over a month late. I feel so guilty for not getting this out sooner but I’ve had a whole slew of mental and physical health problems over the past 4-6 weeks and my emotional PTSD has been weighing me the fuck down. I hope you know that your requests mean more to me than you will ever know. With so much love, E <3

Prompt/Plot: #3 - Anxiety/Panic Attack. Richie has a very hard time admitting his love for Y/N—especially when she seems so close to Bill—but after she shows up at his house in a snowstorm, and helps him after he has a panic attack in Neibolt, he’s ready to make an exception.

Warnings: Richie has a panic attack. Swearing and mentions of masturbation (it’s Richie. What canya do?)

A/N: Written in Richie’s POV. There’s a flashback to the snowstorm that’s acknowledged with time marks. Not a BillxReader though it may seem like so at first.

Words: 5659

July 1989

“Fuck,” I mumbled as Bill, Eddie, Y/N and I stepped into Neibolt. The stale and visibly dusty air wafted around us like smoke in a wind-tunnel. “Wonder how many lepers’ve died in here.”

“Sto-” Eddie gagged audibly. “Stop with the leper talk, Richie! It was,” A click-wheeze came from Eddie’s aspirator as he breathed in deeply. “It was one time!”

I chuckled and looked over at Y/N. She laughed as she knelt down to tie her shoelace with a happy tranquility that almost made me forget we were standing in the middle of a crack-head house. If it wasn’t for the creaking of the heavy, wooden door struggling shut behind us—locking us away from Beverly, Ben, Stan, and Mike—I could have easily thought that we were standing in the middle of the old, dark section of the library where they keep the original copies of Shakespeare, right next to Jesus’s passport.

Bill—our own fearless leader—turned and spoke once he found his bearings. “Guh-guys,” He croaked. We could all tell he was scared, but he stood his ground and hid it well. “I th-thuh-think we sh-ssh-shuh-” He couldn’t get it out.

Y/N stood beside him and slung one arm over his shoulder to calm him. Something bubbled in my stomach. “It’s alright, Bill.” She reassured, her voice soft. “Take your time.”

Bill smiled down at her and she smiled back. The bubbles churned. It was like someone was boiling a kettle in my guts. I looked at the word Freese’s on my shirt. What the fuck? I asked, almost out loud. You’ve had beef burritos before. Would you cool it?

“Th-thanks, Y/N.” Bill managed, ready to start again. “I th-think we shuh-should split up.” His stutter had nearly disappeared with Y/N at his side. Yeah, I chimed in my head. Let’s all split up, Bill. I’ll bet my allowance you and Y/N will find each other anyway. Something clicked in my head. I didn’t do it often, but I found myself stopping to think, and suddenly the feeling made sense. It wasn’t the burritos. It was seeing Y/N help Bill. It was watching Y/N hug Ben when he gave her his spare change for gum. It was hearing Y/N say, ‘I’d hop in Brian’s parachute pants.’ when we watched The Breakfast Club on VHS in Beverly’s apartment. It was because I don’t look like Brian from The Breakfast Club, or Bill, or Ben. Fuck, I thought. The realization crashing over me like a black, choking wave. Richie Tozier, you jealous shit. I could feel my cheeks going red and my pants growing hot. Fuck, I groaned. Fuck. No. Not here. Not in fucking Neibolt. Run your mouth, Tozier. Crack a joke. Spit a remark or something. Do a voice. Do a voice, Richie.

And like that I was Shaggy. “Like zoinks, Fred!” I carolled. “It’s like, get another catchphrase or something, huh-ha!”

Y/N chuckled—Success—but quickly shrugged it away so she wouldn’t make Bill feel bad, but Bill didn’t care. He was determined to find this made-up, whack-job clown. “Ruh-Richie and E-Eh-E-” He tried.

“We get it, Bill.” Click-wheeze. “ Richie and I can stay Can stay on the ground floor if,” He pointed a finger at Bill and Y/N. “You two wanna go upstairs.” The kettle clicked on again broiling harshly. It was so hot that I almost missed the joke opportunity. That’s my cue, I thought.

“Yeah,” I laughed, wrapping my arms around Eddie. “Oh, Bill!” I squeaked. “I’m so scared, Bill! Won’t you hold me?” I shuffled my arms dramatically up and down Eddie’s back and hair, making loud kissing noises. “Mwah mwah Mwah! Oh, Bill! Mwah mwah mwa-”

“Richie!” Eddie shouted and squirmed. “Richie my hair! Have you even washed your hands in the past twenty-four hours, Richie? Richie!” He pushed away, hands rushing up to his head to fix the mess. I doubled over,  laughing so hard I could barely breathe. All the heat left my stomach. I managed to stand up and wipe my glasses off, but looking at Y/N I saw that her cheeks were red. Really red. She was embarrassed. Welp, I concluded. That’s it, Trashmouth. You threw away any shot you had. Tozier, meet Right Hand.

Bill put an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and they turned towards the rickety staircase. Wanna go for broke, Tozier? My thoughts were coughing at me. I know well enough that my mouth’s a badly cracked dam, and it’s impossible to stop the leaks.  “Be safe you two!” I spurted as they walked away. “Use protection!”

There was a scoff from Eddie. I grinned a Trashmouth’s grin at him but turned back around to find Y/N looking at me. She was disappointed. I would have walked back to my house and locked myself away until I died if Eddie hadn’t scolded me once she and Bill were out of sight. “Are you serious, Richie?” He chided. “Would you just tell her you like her already?”

I turned to Eddie so that I could glare at him through my thick frames. “Gee, Eddie.” I quipped. “Let’s see, if you’re the only Loser I’ve confessed my love for Y/N to, and believe me, I regret that… well… I suppose two and two equal no. Fuck no. Never.” I adjusted my glasses, which were sliding down my hot face. “She’ll never know because she’ll never feel the same way.” I turned to walk away. Anywhere but there under Eddie’s decrypting gaze. “And that’s the story, Eds.”

I made my way to a small alcove—It looked like a living room. In the middle, a lone chair sat in a slew of tangled roots and dead vines, sprouting from the ceiling—but I didn’t make it far. “Richie,” Eddie called. His voice sounded different. Less frustrated and more confused.

It enticed me to look at him again. “What, Eddie?”

He stared at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Richie, you said ‘love.’”

When did I say Love? I thought. I tried to remember but I felt about as confused as Eddie looked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Eddie suddenly smiled. His cheeks turning up to mock me. “You finally said it.” He chirped. “You wouldn’t admit it before, but you just did. You said ‘my love for Y/N’, Richie.”

A floodgate opened. I did say that. Richie Tozier is a bastard in love, Ladies and Gents. I could feel my cheeks catch fire, probably a vivid crimson, and as I mulled over Eddie’s words I could hear his voice, somewhere else, somewhere distant, somewhere on the other end of a telephone line.

Winter 1988

“Richie, could you tell Mrs.Douglas that I won’t be in class tomorrow?” Eddie said into the receiver.

I chuckled. “What’s the matter, Eds? Rather tickle your pickle while your mom’s at work than sit through math?”

Eddie when to sigh but his shitty lungs spat a wheeze instead. “No, you idiot.” Click-wheeze. “My mom’s taking me to the doctor.”

“Why,” I quipped. “Dick stuck in the VHS player again?” He scoffed, but I laughed.

“Richie! That’s gross!” He wailed. “I’m going to the optometrist, dip-shit. My mom wants to make sure I don’t need glasses.”

“Just where my extra pair,” I suggested.

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. “I can see Jupiter in those fuckin things.”

We both giggled, but the moment was cut short by the doorbell. I listened closely to see if I could hear my mother’s footsteps, wondering if she was sober enough to be awake. Silence. “Hold on, Eds.” I sighed, knowing very well that she was unconscious. “Doorbell.”

Put the phone down, but didn’t hang it up, and ran down the stairs. The front hall carpet was cold, a sign that the snow storm blowing outside was as bad as the weather goons had predicted. Putting a hand on the cold, brass doorknob I noticed that I never knew who to expect when opening the door. It could’ve been a salesman, or a dinosaur, or God himself. Frankly, I would have expected anyone else before I expected her.

It was Y/N. I knew her face immediately because whenever she passed in the hallway it was all I could see, though Eddie was the only one who ever caught me staring. She looked cold. So cold that she was shaking, her hands clutched to her chest. Even with frostbite, she was stunning. So stunning that I forgot to crack a joke, or at least say Hey.

“Richie!” She exclaimed, her voice barely audible in the wailing wind. I noticed her teeth chattering in between words. Don’t be a pussy, Tozier. Let the pretty girl in.

I moved out of the way and put one hand on her shoulder, guiding her into the house. “Holy shit, Y/N,” I said, stunned. “What the hell are you doing outside in that storm.”

She chuckled. My concern wasn’t a joke, but even in the cold, her laugh was warm, like Saturday morning sunshine. “It wasn’t this bad before.” She assured. “It was nice enough to walk to Mr.Keene’s, but all of a sudden the wind picked up and the next thing I knew I was on your doorstep.”

I chuckled, feeling an odd sense of honour that she recognized my house and felt safe enough with me to seek shelter from a snowstorm with me. “You can stay here until it passes if you want.” I offered, hoping and praying that the storm would last forever. Now’s your chance to get to know her, Richie. I thought. Now’s your chance to impress the hell out of a pretty girl from the safety and comfort of your own home.

Y/N smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Richie.” She said. “I really appreciate it, especially because,” She paused. “Well, I guess we don’t know each other that well, do we?”

I thought about it for a second, but only because it took me aback. I felt weird to think that I’d known her for any less than forever. I shrugged my shoulders. “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” I lulled casually in my best Clark Gable impression before turning towards my kitchen. She chuckled. I felt a sense of success I rarely felt with my parents. My Dad always working, my Mom always drinking. It made me feel good. Hopeful. Like I’d been working in a sulfur mine all my life and just caught my first breath of fresh air.

I was looking at her differently now. I didn’t just see a beautiful girl I’d love to parade around the school beside. I saw a beautiful girl who—despite being frozen—radiated warmth and light. I felt a sudden urge to sweep her up in my arms. Shut up, Trashmouth. My head spat. You’ll only ever be the kid who lived in a warm house when she got caught in a snowstorm. The thought hurt, and though I tried to push it out, it pushed back. You shouldn’t flatter yourself, Richie. The least you can do is help her enjoy her stay in your dark and lonely house before she forgets all about you. Now, go be a man. I took a deep breath. “You look freezing.” I acknowledged, motioning to her shaking hands.

She chuckled. “I guess so.” I could still hear her teeth chattering. At the bottom of the stairs sat the clean laundry my mom was going to take up before she popped the cork on what was probably her second bottle of wine that day. I grabbed a blanket and walked over to Y/N, pulling it around her shoulders.

“Here,” I mumbled bashfully. “You should probably warm yourself up.” Her face was so close to mine that I could smell her chapstick. Cherry. She smiled as we made eye contact and then reached up and fixed my glasses, which were sliding down my face. I chuckled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Her smile grew. “Thanks for letting me stay for a little while.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to calm the goosebumps. “No problem.”

We made our way into the kitchen. I flicked the kettle on. As I was searching through the cupboards for the box of hot chocolate mix, Y/N took a seat at the table. I could hear her pull the wooden chair out and sit down on its creaky seat. I looked for the hot chocolate a little harder, with hopes that I’d find it soon and could distract Y/N so she couldn’t notice how dusty and cold the house really was.

As if to confirm my worries that she was looking around, eyes scanning the walls and shelves to find some secret part of my backstory that she could crack, I heard her chair push back on the linoleum floor. I heard her step around the table to the wall with the family photos on it, her socked feet making only soft sweeping sounds. Please, I begged, practically tossing bowls and cups across the floor. Please don’t look at those. They’re not me. I’m not my family. I’m not my mother, the alcoholic, or my father, the worker who ignores his trashmouth son. I’m not them. They’re not me. They’re not-”

“So this is your family, huh?” Shit. Her voice was soft and polite. Enough so that I ignored her almost presumptuous question.

“Yeah,” I joked, ignoring the mess of kitchenware and the fact that I probably had no hot chocolate to begin with. I walked over and stood with my back to the photos, facing Y/N. I smiled an overdramatic grin. “Don’t we look alike?”

She chuckled, seeing clearly that my parents and I held little resemblance. “Are either of them home?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing. She was wondering why she hadn’t thought of asking earlier.

I debated lying to Y/N. Telling her that both my parents were in Venezuela on an expedition or something. But looking into her eyes I found something pure. Something whole that said ‘I won’t judge you, Richie. You can trust me.’ And so I trusted her, but not with the whole truth. “My dad’s at work,” I explained. “My mom’s having a nap in the den.” Quick thinking, Richie. If you were only that quick on your feet, maybe you’d have less trouble with Bowers. My stomach hurt just thinking of the mulleted asshole, so I focused on Y/N. I studied her face and found no signs of judgement, only curiosity and beauty.

“Oh,” she said. “Will she be mad if she sees a girl in the house?”

I thought about it for a second. The answer was yes. She would probably be appalled. She may even throw Y/N back out on the street before she could slip her boots on again, but she would definitely notice me. Maybe even see my cry for love and attention and give me some for once. But it would take something drastic. Something that I wasn’t willing to drag Y/N into. Something that I hadn’t even noticed was about to happen anyway, because I hadn’t heard the TV click off, or the scuffling of my mother’s slippers. I hadn’t noticed her standing in the doorway, already positioned—slightly off-kilter with the wine in her system—to rip both Y/N and I apart.

“Richard Tozier,” She tried to boom, but it only came out as a deep slurred mess. I could smell the alcohol on her breath from several feet away, and with Y/N standing unfortunately in between the two of us I knew that she could smell it too. She was probably already figuring out the basics of the Tozier household. Drunken mother, working father, under-acknowledged Richie Tozier. “Did you think you could sneak some tramp into the house without my knowing?” Her eyes were distant, glazed over, never quite finding what she was looking at.

Y/N turned to look at me. She wasn’t as offended as she was concerned. Thanks for blowing it, mom. I could tell she wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but she was smart enough to know that it wasn’t quite right.

My mother spoke again. “Turn the kettle off and get her out of here, Richard.” She babbled. “I want you to do your homework, not this-”

“I don’t have any homework, mom.” I corrected her. “I told you that when I got home.”

She squinted her eyes at me, her eyelashes curling against her eyelids. “Don’t lie to me, Richard,” She tried. “You said that you had a science project, remember?” She sounded so sure of herself that it sparked pity in my gut. Pity for both her and myself and Y/N for having to watch it all unfold.

“That was last week, mom,” I mumbled. “Last week was the science fair. I had to carry my project four miles to the school and back. Remember?” I could feel tears threatening to spill behind my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of Y/N so I held them back. Looking at her gave me enough strength to subdue the urge to let them fly, but it also made me aware of her new expression. Her eyebrows turned up ever-so-slightly. She understood what was happening fully now, and she pitied me. She pitied poor, ignored Richard Tozier, who only craved knowing that his parents gave half a shit about him. She was as witty and observant as I was. I wondered if she also felt like she was too smart for her own good, and as she saw me wonder I saw her scheme.

Her eyebrows relaxed, her eyes gained a sense of confidence they didn’t have before, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. I had no idea what she was planning to do, but the thrill of it was almost enough to send me over the edge.

“No, no,” My mother mumbled defiantly. “No that was today, Richard. I remember it like my own name and I won’t have you lie to me. Now go do your homework!” She tried to raise her voice but only hiccuped instead.

Before she could turn away to return to the den, Y/N stepped back towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist,  pulling me in. Suddenly she wasn’t herself. It gave me a strange sensation, like I was watching myself do a voice or host an impression. She became someone new.

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Tozier.” She cooed, one hand reaching up to pull off my glasses smoothly. “But I doubt that Richie’s gonna get to do any sort of work today.” My mother—though disoriented—was still coherent and fully noticed the handsy actions Y/N was putting out. Her face went red. “I’m afraid,” Y/N continued. “The only thing he’ll be doing today is-”

My mother had had enough. “Young lady!” She managed, though still slurring. “I’ll have you-” Hiccup. “Get your hands off my-” Another hiccup. “Off my son!”

Y/N laughed, and like that, I saw her plan in full light. It was brilliant. She was brilliant. “Oh, I can manage that,” She grinned. “The real problem is keeping Richie’s hands off of me.”

My mother yelped and tried to run out of the kitchen, but she could only manage a slumped set of lunges. “Oh, my!” She cried out. “I need another drink.” The thump thump thump of her crashing steps faded as she left Y/N and I standing together in the fluorescent-lit room.

I turned to Y/N, who was smiling so fiercely her cheeks strained to keep up. “That should get her to pay attention from now on, huh?” She laughed, but I stared in awe, hyper-aware that she hadn’t yet let go of my waist. I could feel her warmth radiating through my Hawaiian shirt. Suddenly the white lights didn’t feel so cold. The room didn’t feel so empty. My house no longer felt lonely. Y/N—with only her smile and her divine presence—filled the void of the house I’d been fighting to fix for years. My house was the sulfur mine, and Y/N was a million breaths of fresh air. I would’ve stood and stared until I died, if she hadn’t pulled away.

“Thanks for saving me from the cold, Richie.” She said, still grinning from ear to ear. “And I’m sorry if I just got you grounded, but I thought maybe-”

“I don’t care if she throws me out.” I interrupted, half aware that my mouth was moving. “That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N smiled bashfully and looked at her feet. “It was my pleasure.” She assured. “But I should probably head out now. My parents will be worried if I’m not back soon.”

Her smile faded as I nodded. We made our way to my front door. She started to take the blanket off her shoulders, but I told her to keep it for the walk home. “Once again, Richie,” She smiled. “Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. I could feel my face go red. She noticed my crimson cheeks and giggled, before stepping out the door, and just like that, she had gone as softly and abruptly as she had come.

“Holy fuck,” I said out loud as soon as the door shut. “Wait ‘til I tell Eddie.” I stopped for a second. “Oh, fuck, Eddie!” I took the stairs two at a time, raced back up to my room, and threw the phone up to my cheek so fast I almost took off my glasses. “Eddie! Shit, man I’m sorry dude.”

Eddie scoffed on the other end of the line. “That was a long time, Richie. Who the fuck was at your door?” He paused. “And if you say something witty like ‘It was Y/N, the hottie that I’ve been eyeing for months. We boned for a while until our love sparked a fire hardy-har-har’ then I will walk to your house and slap you myself, Tozier.” I laughed. Long and hard enough to get Eddie very concerned and very curious. “What the hell are you laughing about, Richie.”

And though it took some convincing and a promise or two, I made it through the story of the past twenty-five minutes. “Jesus Christ, Richie,” Eddie mumbled. I could practically see the dumbfounded look on his face. “I knew you had a crush on her, but shit, the way you’re describing her… Richie Tozier is a bastard in love, isn’t he?”

I laughed, but in surprise rather than amusement. No matter how much I liked Y/N, no matter how much I wanted to scream from the fucking rooftops that I would happily marry her, I would never tell Eddie that I was in love. Not willingly. I would never admit that I loved her—out loud, especially to anyone else—until I knew she felt the same way. “I’m not in love, you idiot.” I spat. “She’s just hot, you know.”

“Oh suure, Richie.” Eddie retorted sarcastically. “You’re not in love and my mother wants me to roll around in the sewers as a hobby.”

I laughed back at him, but it felt forced. I couldn’t let him know. Not now. Not yet.

July 1989

“Okay, so what?” I asked. Throwing my hands up and turning towards the alcove again. “So what if I said it, it doesn’t matter because she can’t hear me and even if she could, she wouldn’t understand.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie fought back. Though I was facing away from him I could practically see the scrunched, ‘Would you get a load of this guy?’ look on his face. “You know damn well that she feels the same way about you, Richie. Why would she help you with your mother if she didn’t care? You know she only lives a block away from you, right?” In honesty, I didn’t know that. I would have turned around to look at Eddie and ask how he knew but a piece of paper caught in the dead foliage demanded my attention, though that didn’t stop Eddie from talking. “She could have made it through that storm easily, but no. She remembered where your house was that one time you had that garage sale, remember Richie? She knew where you lived and she took shelter with you because she fucking loves you too, dip-shit!”

His voice sounded distant. It was like this paper, this flyer, had sucked in all of my senses. I reached the roots and plunged a hand in, clutching the sheet and pulling it out to reveal a face I saw every day in the mirror. It was my school picture. I was smiling up at myself through my glasses, which were nearly covered under my hair. At the top of the page, in massive, attention-grabbing, black letters was the word Missing.

My head clouded over as the room began to spin. Eddie was talking but I couldn’t hear him. I could barely hear myself wheezing. Air. Shit. Where the fuck did the air go? Suddenly I found myself craving the old, dusty air of the Neibolt house. I was choking for anything and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t assume control over my body. My heart was pounding so hard I could practically see it. Cold sweat was causing my glasses to slide down my nose, but with my aching hands grasping the paper I didn’t bother to fix them. My diaphragm tried to draw air in but it kept hitching in my throat.

“Richie?” Eddie called over, concerned. “Richie, you look really pale. Are you ok, dude?” I couldn’t answer. My tunnel vision was hyper-focused on the paper. I could feel myself beginning to black out. Eddie screamed something but fuck if I knew what it was. I was too busy shaking to figure it out. My knees were beginning to buckle underneath me and if it weren’t for the hands on either one of my arms, helping me sit down, I would have collapsed. Someone took the paper from my hands. I wished and I willed for my eyes to focus, and after a little while, they finally did. My eyes cleared to reveal Y/N. She had tossed the flyer off to the side and knelt beside me, her hands on either side of my face. She was staring into my eyes and though I couldn’t hear her, I figured she was pleading. Probably for me to calm down, or take a breath, or stay alive. Believe me, love, I thought. I’m trying.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop struggling. I wondered if Y/N had read the flyer and figured out why I’m in my current state. She was certainly sharp enough to do so. As if to prove me right, her voice broke through. “Richie, you’re here with us. Look. Look at us, Richie! You’re not missing!” She hit the nail on the head, and much like when she saved me in my own house, she was saving me now. It was as if I’d been trying to listen to her through fifty feet of water, drowning in the sea, but she managed to swim to my depth and pull me up again. I could see and hear and breathe and for the first time in the past forever I felt calm, though my heart was racing. I raised a hand and pointed at the Missing poster. “B-Buh-But I-I-” Eddie thrust his aspirator at me. I took it graciously.

“You’re here, Richie. You’re right here.” She shuffled forward on her knees and pulled me gently into her chest. “I know that this scares you, but if you ever went missing, the Losers and I would never stop until we found you. Understand?” I murmured. Y/N pulled away for a second to look in my eyes. “You understand that, right, Richie? We would risk life and limb to get you back if that’s what it cost.”

I nodded, still trying to gain my composure. She smiled. “Wanna hear a joke?”

I mustered a half-smile. “You-” Wheeze. “Bet I do.”

She chuckled. “What’s the difference between a tire and 365 used condoms?”

I stared at her for a second—who would’ve guessed that Y/N had any dirty jokes in her arsenal—then shrugged my shoulders.

“One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a great year.”

I let out a howl of laughter, hunching half in between my knees. Oh, I noted. There are my lungs.

“Fuck panic attacks.”

I smiled. “Y-yeah.” I squeaked. “Fuck” Wheeze. “panic attacks.”

Y/N laughed with me and then spoke. “How about we get you out of here, huh?” I nodded again. Y/N stood up and turned to Bill. “Could you help Richie outside?”

Bill nodded excessively. “Uh-of course.” He knelt down, slung my left arm over his shoulder, and helped me stand up. Y/N helped Eddie crack open the front door. They walked out first and explained what had happened to Mike, Ben, Stan, and Beverly.

“T-thanks” Wheeze. “for helping me, Bill.” I managed. “I r-really” Wheeze. “appreciate it.”

Bill chuckled softly. “That’s f-fine, R-ruh-Rich. I-I know p-puh-panic at-tacks can be s-ss-scary. Yuh-you’re just l-luh-lucky that Eh-Eddie yelled up f-for Y/N.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry for joking about you and Y/N earlier, I didn’t mean to-”

He cut me off by laughing. “Th-that’s ok, R-Richie. Y/N was w-wuh-worried about the j-jokes at first, but I just t-tuh-told her it was b-because you l-luh-love her.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? I-I don’t love Y/N.” I shook my head and forced a fake laugh, but it was too late. Bill already knew.

“Th-that’s ok, Eddie. We c-could tell. Th-th-the hard p-part was convincing Y/N ab-bout it.”

“Y/N,” I had to stop myself from screaming. “Y/N knows?! Bill, I totally annoy her, why would the-” His furrowed eyebrows made me stop. “What?”

“You d-d-don’t know?”

I shook my head, lost. “Know what?”

“Y/N l-luh-loves you.”

For a second I couldn’t breathe again. I stopped walking and stared at him. “There’s no way.”

He laughed. “Shuh-she does, R-ruh-Richie” He said matter-of-factly. “Y/N told the l-luh-losers wuh-weeks ago.”

I stared at him. “Weeks ago? Dude, why didn’t anybody tell me?!”

“She w-wanted you to f-fuh-find out on y-your own, Rich.” Bill walked down the stairs and over to his bike. I made note that the rest of the Loser’s had picked theirs up too. Mike, Ben, Stan, and Beverly were all looking at me, concerned.

“You ok, Richie?” Mike asked. I nodded and then glanced at Y/N. She met my eyes and gave me a warm smile, taking the chill out of my chest.

I knew that Bill was telling the truth but there was no way in hell I could accept it. I looked at Eddie. You knew the whole time, didn’t you? I spat sarcastically in my head. Eddie turned as if he could feel my glare and looked back at me, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Asshole. I chuckled and then looked at Y/N again. She was on her bike, one foot on its pedal, ready to ride away. I remembered how she stood up for me in my house, how she radiated warmth and light, how she kissed wrapped her arms around me when I introduced her to the Loser’s and they let her join, how she was my breath of fresh air, both within my house and the Crack-Heads’. Jokes may help you in your sulfur mine of a house, Tozier, but they won’t help under water. I told myself. Go chase your air.

I knew exactly what I had to do. I scuttled down the Neibolt steps, across the lawn, and over to Y/N’s bike. Glancing at Eddie I could see his content expression. He knew what I was doing. Don’t flatter yourself, Eddie Spaghetti. I chuckled in my head before standing in front of Y/N’s bike, my hands on her handlebars.

She put her pedal-foot down and began to speak, but I cut her off. “Y/N, I-I’ve been meaning to… to tell you that… well… I-I kinda-” Once again I couldn’t get the words out, and upon further inspection, I realized that Y/N’s lips were on mine. This is the kinda silence I can get behind. I could taste her cherry chapstick and I could smell her shampoo and I couldn’t help but close my eyes before pulling away. It was as if I’d just taken seventeen thousand hits of Eddie’s aspirator.

“I love you too, Richie.” She chuckled. All I could manage was a wow. She laughed again but louder. I leaned in again to kiss her cheek but the moment was broken by Eddie’s screaming.

“I fucking told you, Tozier!” He yelled, a smile overtaking his face. The Loser’s—myself and Y/N included—burst out in a swell of laughter.

I walked over and gave him a noogie. “I guess ya did Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Richie!” Eddie squealed. “My hair, Richie!” I laughed, reached down, and grabbed my bike. Bill pedalled Silver forward, the first to kick up the gravel of Neibolt Street. The rest of the Loser’s weren’t far behind. With Y/N and I riding in the back, we headed into town. Along the way, I couldn’t help but stare at her. She loves me. Y/N loves the Trashmouth, and the Trashmouth loves her too. And so we rode through Derry, forgetting all about old houses, and dusty air and fucking clowns. Instead, I appreciated the warmth of the July sun, the smell of what Stan calls Phlox flowers, and Y/N, because thanks to her, I can breathe.

I fucking love all of you lovely readers and I wish you all the best in life.

With love,

E