#just call me whatever man i’m just here to be annoying online

[astrobei]

dearest suni i have a question for you. well two and they are both based in curiosity. a) what is ur level of confidence in byler endgame realistically (im like 50/50 on a good day tbh) and b) how do u phonetically pronounce ur name bc i realized it could go a couple ways and i want to make sure im mentally pronouncing it right!

ok thats all have a good day/night/year <3

hi ella !! both excellent questions !!

a) as for byler endgame i am. hm. i have been severely let down in the past so i am by nature a little cynical but. more than them not getting together my worst fear is that it’ll be some weird open ended left unsaid thing/they confess in the last couple scenes of s5 with no kiss no established byler moments ☹️ not too get too Analytical or anything but i think that having mike reject will would be such a disservice to his character and his growth throughout the series because it would end with will heartbroken and in pain AGAIN. this entire show has just been about will being put through the fucking wringer and i truly do think the only way to satisfyingly sum up his arc would be to let him have the boy !! let him have his happy ending !! they 100% didn’t have to make it mike that he was in love with bc having him struggle with his sexuality alone would have been very fitting in the story and they could’ve written a second love interest in like vickie, but they made it mike for a reason !! especially w no new characters being introduced in s5!! idk i am, like most people, a little apprehensive at times but i genuinely can’t think of a halfway decent ending where they don’t end up together especially with so many parallels to other couples in the show 🥳🥳🥳 (🤞)

b) suni is just the first half of my Real Name which is pronounced soo-knee ! but i also go by sunny when i give my name at like. starbucks and stuff so if that’s how u were pronouncing it u would technically Not Be Incorrect :^)

have a good day/night/year to u too ella thank u for the wonderful conversation 😙

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin iv x Time!traveler!reader

chapter 2

Chapter 1

You get up from your bed and sit on the floor cross-legged. “System, I have the ability to by clothes from you right? Can you show me a few of the clothes available at your store?”

Sadly Miss Y/n, when I meant you can buy clothes through me, I meant you can buy the fabrics only. It showed you a plethora of fabrics, ranging from cheap cotton to colourful silk.

Now this is annoying. You might have basic skills to stitch a button and all but making an entire dress from scratch? Yeah, that’s impossible. Not to mention tailoring machines don’t even exist. Now you have no choice but to buy from traders

When you began your mission the system gave you some money as an achievement for starting the main quest, which was more than enough to rent a room at the inn. But now that you have a place to sleep for some time you should probably start thinking about how to finish that small side quest you started.

After calculating the benefits and losses of the decision you’re about to make, you snap your fingers at the thrill of discovery and lean towards the screen. “System show me the food products you have available.” Within seconds it shows you all forms of food at the online shop. You scroll down a few times and find exactly what you’re looking for. Pepper, chilli powder, chat masala and many more spices were shown and you clicked buy,buy,buy on all of them. Considering the fact that most of the spices here weren’t even discovered in this timeline you have some faith that they will blow off in the market when you sell them.

I think I know what you’re gonna do to finish the side quest miss Y/n…

Last night

“Sadly this seems to be a bad time for you and your father to set up your shop madame.” The man held a cresset lamp, which illuminated the path while his wife helped you walk across.

“Why do you say so sir?” You’re confused. He seemed a bit hesitant to say this and signs his wife to reply.

“Many people in Jerusalem have been going sick. And it’s no ordinary sickness, no, people’s legs are getting swollen, they bleed at the slightest of injuries and the gums inside their mouth become tender to the point that their teeth start to fall off. Most doctors call it ‘The Barlow's disease’ or something along those lines but most of us just call it ‘The loosener of teeth’”

Yeesh that was a gruesome description. People here have less immunity as it is and something like this ain’t gonna help them much.

“Is it really that bad?” She nods a yes. “The sick have increased to a point where the king himself has taken notice. Although he has hired physicians from other lands to cure the sick, most of the people who have the sickness don’t have the money to visit them.” She sighs in defeat.

Wait a minute…Swollen gums? Falling teeth? Barlow's disease? You’ve studies about this before in history class, it’s scurvy! It affects people with a lack of Vitamin C in their diet that is, sailors and the poor. It can be cured simply by eating food which has the vitamin. A wave of relief washes you since you definitely won't be getting it.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem anymore madame.” You smile softly while the screen shows a pop up.

Side quest unlocked! Cure all people in Jerusalem from Scurvy.

Present

The stall for your shop was quickly set up, partially because the last owner just left the shop as it is. Within some time, all the spices were neatly displayed. By looking at other shops it was easy to decorate your own and it’s safe to say, yours was the most organised. It was extravagant, but not extravagant enough to drive the common people away.

Good job Miss Y/n! I’ll help you in whatever way I can to make the mission easy for you. I’ll try my best to get a discount on the rates in my store so you won't have to spend too much money on this!

“Thank you screen, that’ll help a lot. Honestly I’m doing it mostly for the money I’ll get after completing the side quest.” You remark while the screen giggles with its emoticon mouth. “By the way, just refer to me as Y/n. Miss Y/n feels too formal. Talk to me casually! You’re the only person that connects me to my time anyway.” You dryly chuckle, looking at the containers sadly. Even now you’re mind is not able to comprehend the fact that you’re in the past. It’s still trying to convince you, you’re in a foreign rural village.

“Excuse me.” you look at the young girl standing in front of your shop. “Do you have any pepper available?” So cute! She has such chubby cheeks too!

But immediately you notice her teeth. They look like as if they are about to fall; multiple of them. Her gums are also swollen, indicating she has the disease. So that's why her cheeks are chubby! Now you feel kinda bad for thinking its cute. “Yes we do darling how much do you want?”

“About 2 Livre (pounds) please.” She waited as you wrapped it up for her. “Do you wish to pay with your money or win it for free in a contest?” She squints her eyes. “Contest?”

With a bright smile you say “Yes a contest! This contest is an eating contest that only the people with Barlow's disease can contest in.” You show her a plate filled with oranges. “If the person is able to eat these oranges before the hourglass stops the person gets whatever they wish to buy for free! Remember, the more you want to buy, the more amount of fruit you have to eat.” You point out. At first you were a bit worried whether the girl would openly admit she has the disease since it’s considered shameful to openly admit a person is sick, but considering how her mouth was watering when she looked at the oranges, it was quite easy to determine she’d do anything for free food.

“W-Well…” She lifts her skirt a bit to show her swollen legs. “I have the sickness. Can I contest? If so, will my name be revealed for having the sickness??” Oh my god her cuteness is crushing your heart! “Oh no dear, nobody’s name shall be revealed, winner or participant. Do you want to contest?”

The girl nods vigorously as you set up the hourglass. The moment you tell her to start, she shoves all the slices of oranges into her mouth, making her choke. You panic and tell her to spit it out but she ignores your pleas and swallows them all, making her oesophagus hurt from the pressure.

You shift your demeanour and hand the pepper over to her. “C-Congrats! You won the contest! You can have this for free.”

She however is in a state of shock. To get good quality food for free is a miracle, a gift from God really. 

“Did I…really win this?”

“Yes love you did! What you ate was quite a large amount too. Well done!” It wasn’t. You calculated time and time again this morning to get the orange slices proportional to the food they were buying in such a way that anyone with weak teeth could win it. You even used the son of the man and wife you met at first as a guinea pig, by making him eat them in the name of ‘A thank you gift.’ His sickness decreased drastically and his teeth became strong sometime after the meal, which was quite startling to see since you’ve never seen anyone recover that fast.

The little girl looked at you with doe eyes. “Can I contest again?”

“No love, a person gets only one chance per day. You can come tomorrow to try!”

“I will!” She squeaks. “I loved that fruit too. It’s flavour was unlike anything i’ve eaten, being sweet and tangy at the same time.” Damn it's hard to believe she was even able to taste it after seeing the way she shoved it in her mouth. “I’ll come again tomorrow to try nice lady!”

“Spread a good word for me!” You yell as she waves goodbye. It didn’t take much time for your shop to go popular.You told about this contest to anyone who entered your shop. Many were disgusted at the fact the sick have come here but others saw this as an opportunity to get free food. The sick came to you in disguise at first but within the span of four days they didn’t even hide  their sickness anymore. People started viewing your shop as a clinic at some point, an they started lining up, some even carrying family members who’ve lost their ability to walk.

It got to the point where all of this was happening at a loss, so the best course of action was to sell the oranges to other fruit traders. It not only gave you a huge profit but also made sure the cure was spread to all corners of Jerusalem. Your oranges were rumoured to be ‘The miracle cure’ so they sold out of shops within seconds. The poor still came to you for the free ones but the rich considered it a luxury product due to its high rates at shops. Funny how these were the same people who were disgusted at your idea at first.

Within one and a half months the sick decreased drastically. Your name became popular which worried you alot since you’re probably under the radar of assassins or someone more dangerous. Your quest too was finished, and the system gave you a heep of money which was enough to buy a moderately big home. While people were being cured, your anxiety surged more and more. You were certain your life was under a threat.

One faithful day while you were instructing the new employees on how to take care of the shop, the crowd became silent. They made way for a bunch of men on horses. It was the crusaders.

Everyone including you bowed slightly as they made an announcement.

“Madame Y/n, the king has noticed your efforts on eradicating the Barlow's disease. He has decided to meet you at the royal court to thank you properly. We shall be heading there NOW.” Two guards came up to you and dragged you inside a carriage like vehicle, which was poorly made.

This wasn’t an invitation to give you rewards. The KING himself has decided you’re a witch and has demanded your presence in court, to decide how to execute you.

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 27

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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---

Jason knew it was going to be an interesting day when loud knocking woke him up way too early than when he was supposed to wake up.

He glanced at his phone, wondering if one of his more annoying siblings had decided to torment him for fun, but there were no new messages.

“I know you are there! Open up!”

Jason had half a thought to ignore Danny until he gave up. Or phased through the door—

“You know I can just phase through this thing, right? I’m being polite— this is me being polite and respecting boundaries. So open this door and let me in!”

He groaned loudly and sat up on his bed. “Whatever, man. Come in or welcome to my abode or whatever you guys need to access.”

Surely enough, after a few seconds Danny walked in looking at him with an eyebrow raised. He wasn’t even fazed by his naked chest and the scars on his skin.

“Did you just call me a vampire?”

He shrugged. “Jazz was a bit weird about permission to enter the first time she came over.” He yawned. “And made the same face when I asked about the vampire thing.”

“That’s because Vlad is a creepy vampire wannabe.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned on the doorway of his bedroom, watching him get up and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. “Ghosts can be weird about entering territory when it’s about a haunt, but you are too weak to make a claim yet.”

Jason hummed, washing his face and deciding to talk about his ghostliness later. Maybe this could be a good chance to bring up the idea of that visit to the yetis.

“In any case, Jazz has no actual reason to be weird about coming into your apartment… apart from the fact that she likes you.”

Jason looked up and glanced at Danny’s reflection in the mirror, watching him with a small smirk. Was the shovel talk going to happen now? He sighed. Better get that over with.

“Why are you here, Danny?”

The younger man uncrossed his arms and glanced away, thinking. Was it that bad?

Finally, he looked at him with new resolve, his blue eyes steeled with determination. “You are treating me to lunch.” It wasn’t a question.

“Am I?”

“Yes. We are going to this Batburger place that everyone talks about online.”

Jason walked back to his room and picked up his phone. It was almost one in the afternoon. No wonder he was hungry. He shrugged and went to get some jeans and a shirt, ignoring the burning stare of his guest on his back.

Soon they were on the move to the nearest Batburger that was just around the corner. It was the only one that ventured into the Narrows and it showed — Red Hood had stopped a robbery in this place enough times that he knew the day and night shifts by name, and had gotten enough free burgers as well.

Danny was quiet the whole way, checking his phone and humming and/or groaning at the texts on the screen.

Once at the Batburger, both placed their order and Danny abandoned Jason to pay as he searched for a place to sit down. Jason didn’t miss how the chosen booth had perfect vision of the exits and was away from any windows or prying eyes from the staff.

He checked his phone one more time, but he didn’t magically have more messages from Jazz that could offer a light on what Danny intended to get out of interrogating him. He was pretty sure by now that a shovel talk was not the goal of the conversation, which opened the question, what the fuck was Danny’s deal with the silence and seriousness.

Finally, their order was done and he brought everything to their booth, noticing that Danny left him the disadvantageous seat that made him face only Danny and give his back to the door. He didn't like it, but would survive just this once.

“Okay,” he didn’t beat around the bush, “whatever it is, just say it.”

“How do you know I have an agenda?”

Jason didn’t even grace that with an answer. Surely Danny must know his poker face was non-existent. He had seen Jazz make better faces, and she was the one who body slammed a thug in front of one of Gotham’s vigilantes and then pretended to be a normal human.

“Okay, okay. World’s best detectives.” He made a dismissive gesture and shoved a bunch of jokerized fries in his mouth. “Hm. These are good.”

They were good, despite the name. Jason loved the damn fries. Still looking Danny in the eye, he picked a fry and slowly bit into it.

“This is not a shovel talk.” Danny started, carefully sipping his drink. “I don’t— Jazz can date whoever she wants and unless you give me reason to think you’d hurt her in any way—”

Jason kept his face totally blank, flashes of her bruised wrist coming to the front of his mind, but Danny narrowed his eyes and stopped eating, interlacing his hands instead.

“I see.”

Jason swallowed. Did he know? How much did he know?

“Jazz told me. About what happened.”

“And?” He tried to act nonchalant, but he knew if Danny could read him when he kept a blank expression, he could see through his attempt.

“Relax. She barely said anything about you. Which,” his eyes glowed green, “tells me more than what she could actually say in words.”

“What do you mean?”

He took his time, grabbing his burger and taking a bite of it. He also chewed slowly, smirking, knowing that he was being a little shit by making him wait.

Finally, he swallowed. “You are not going to eat? The burger is pretty good.”

Jason picked up his burger and bit down, eyes fixed on Danny and his little smirk, waiting what he would do next. He somehow didn’t feel like it was an interrogation and more like he was being watched by a predator taking its time to delight in their prey’s fear.

“I know about the gun.” Jason choked. Danny didn’t move or showed concern. “I know about Batman’s and your interrogation. I know how you treated her.”

Jason felt cold, but kept it together and took a sip of his own drink trying to recover from almost choking to death.

“I—”

“I’m the one talking.” He leaned in, picking another fry and putting it in his mouth. “Again, Jazz didn’t tell me much but I know her and I know how to read her.” He chewed, eyes still glowing green. “I need to know what happened.”

“But you said—”

“I need to hear it from you.”

Jason could almost visualize the crown burning over Danny’s head. He was talking to the King, not his girlfriend’s younger brother.

He briefly considered trying to hide, or maybe offer a shitty excuse, or maybe a watered down version of the facts — but Danny had already let him know he had ways to know he was bullshitting him.

He sighed and bit more of his burger.

He knew Jazz valued Danny’s opinion, but in the case of the young king deeming his acts enough to keep them apart, would she go against his wishes and still want him? There was a real possibility that after this conversation their already complex relationship became even more impossible.

He felt a pinch in his chest, the familiar resentment he felt the previous night coming back full force. Was all of this worth it? Was she worth it? Worth of being stared down by this unnerving creature, ruler of another dimension, who could easily smite him out of existence?

He watched his hands, almost feeling the touch of her skin. His scarred knuckles softly caressed by her fingers as they watched a movie. The familiar weight of her hair as he pushed it aside to kiss her.

Jazz was… She was… Jazz made him feel wanted. No conditions, no fine print, no agendas. After thinking about it, he was more and more convinced that Jazz was not the kind of person who hid a secret plan or exit strategy. That she was as broken as he was, forced to be a warrior since teenagehood and stumbling through life searching for purpose.

He understood they weren’t so different after all, so maybe she understood that side of him too.

Jason looked up at Danny, who patiently waited for an answer. His small smile betrayed that he knew about his internal turmoil, and was just humoring him while he gathered his thoughts.

“I love her.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He nodded. “I don’t— She and I—” He grumbled, one hand ruffling his hair. “I have been betrayed before, and when Bruce came forward with all that stuff… I thought I was being deceived again.”

“You didn’t ask Jazz if it was true.”

“I didn’t. It was just too perfect. Made too much sense.” Danny narrowed his eyes. “I understand now that it was all bullshit, but I found out then that Jazz gave me that damn green stuff and I don’t how much you know about me, but me and the Lazarus Pits don’t have a good history.”

Danny nodded and bit his burger. His eyes also stopped shining. “She saved your life, you know.”

“I know.”

He remembered waking up and finding her eyes watching him. He dismissed them at the moment, but they had been clearly shining green. If he wasn’t so focused on the euphoria of being alive and with her, he would have stopped and accepted that there was a lot more than meets the eye with Jazz.

It didn’t make sense to dwell on that now.

“I already owe her too much.” He admitted after a moment. “But I will repay her with my life if needed.”

Danny’s eyebrows went to his hairline and he started laughing. He slapped the table, laughing so loud that the other patrons of the Batburger were looking at them now.

He sighed. Danny found that even more hilarious and continued laughing.

“Oh man, that’s… You don’t need to be cute with me.” He wiped the few tears gathered in his eyes. “And no need for such declarations of love. Or staking your life on it, pal. When you die, your ass is mine. With how contaminated you already are, and with a previous resurrection, you are definitely one of my subjects when you die.”

Jason had suspected it, but this confirmed it. He wouldn’t know peace even after he died.

Okay.

Whatever. He would deal with that later.

“Jazz and I talked, after what happened. I apologized. I— I won’t do that again. I don’t… I know I’m not exactly—” He stopped to glare at his food. He wasn’t getting anywhere. He breathed in and tried again. “I’m not boyfriend material. I'm a crime lord. I can be violent. When I came back to Gotham, I introduced myself to the criminal Underworld by arranging a meeting with all the lords and giving them their second in command’s heads in a duffel bag.”

Danny nodded along but didn’t say anything. If he was judging him, he wasn’t showing.

“Jazz says she understands my work and from what we learned yesterday maybe she does, but still —”

“Why are you dating my sister, Jason?”

He looked up, and somehow he couldn’t see anything human in Danny. It wasn't just his eyes, it was… everything. Shadows coalesced around him and the bright fluorescent lights from the ceiling blinked in and out of existence. Danny himself looked older, bigger, sprawled on his seat like he was sitting on a throne and lazily watched him from above.

If it were another situation, he would have tried to find out what tricks he used, what kind of magic he possessed to do this to him and not raise alarms in the Batburger.

“What do you mean?” He cleared his throat, feeling it dry, but couldn’t move a finger to reach for his drink.

“If you are such a dangerous man… If you understand you are not ‘boyfriend material’ — “ he made the air quotes “ — and cannot provide the stability or security my sister needs… Why are you still with her?”

Because he loved her? Because she understood him? Because she wasn’t trying to change him, like everyone else?

He couldn’t choose which one to say. And somehow he knew that “love” wasn’t a good enough answer for the Ghost King.

Danny’s left eye twitched. He leaned in. “What tells me that you won’t wake up one day and realize she’s not worth it, Jason? That one day you won’t think that you actually want to go back to the severed heads and the recklessness?” Jason felt his breath leaving him with every pointed question. What was Danny doing? “How can I be sure that my sister is a priority for you?”

As the King leaned back on his seat, Jason could finally take a much needed breath. He pondered the words, how familiar to his own thoughts they were. He had decided that he would let the insanity of Jazz’s life permeate in his, that it wasn’t such a big deal, that they would deal with things as they came.

But was it ever so simple?

Nothing was simple with Jazz. Or with him. He knew that he could never have any resemblance of a normal relationship with a civilian, and even hero relationships had a high chance to fail — the Mission, after all, took place over everything else. Bruce had taught him that, on top of his crime fighting knowledge.

He had already given up by the time he met Jazz, but he said yes because she was supposed to be something simple, something temporary. Mundane.

Was she really those things? Simple? Temporary? Mundane?

No. That’s not what she was, and that’s not why he got into a relationship with her.

Danny’s eyes followed him as he controlled his breathing, the green changing colors as he probably followed his inner turmoil.

“So?”

Jason licked his lips. Why was he staying? Why was he willing to try?

“She chose me.”

Danny arched an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting that answer.

“She wants me. That day, when I—” he swallowed “ — When I pointed a gun at her and asked her questions like she was some kind of criminal,” he closed his eyes, haunted by her hurt eyes while he accused her, “she was honest when she said she wanted me. Everything else I could easily tell she was hiding something, but about her feelings… there was no deceit.” He remembered her phone, the lock screen picture, his smile. “It could have been anyone else, could have been my own brother, but she chose me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It does. It really does. I hurt her, I questioned her, I threatened her, and yet she wanted me. She wanted to give me a chance. I won’t let it go to waste.” He let his shoulders drop, trying to ease the tension. “Not going to lie, I am… wary of this whole Ghost Royalty business, and I know it won’t be easy, but nothing has ever been easy for me.” He shrugged. “I have always had to work harder to get what comes easy for everyone else. I was born here, in the Narrows, and I grew up on the streets.”

“Bruce Rich Dude adopted you.” Danny nodded and looked aside, and the death grip the young man somehow had on their surroundings was eased. The lights stopped flickering.

Jason rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “Yes, but it was short lived. Just like me.” He smiled at Danny’s chuckle. Jazz wasn’t kidding about the death jokes being a norm in her life. “I was murdered at fifteen years old. When I came back, Brucie had another kid taking my place.”

“That’s rough buddy.”

The illusion was completely broken. They were back at the Batburger and Danny was just a guy eating his lunch again. No more eldritch horrors.

“You said this wasn’t a shovel talk.” Jason pointed out, reaching for his drink.

“I wasn’t intending to, honest.” Danny shoved the last of the fries in his mouth. “It’s difficult, you know — being her brother and the King.” He said as he chewed. The contrast of the Ghost King threatening him and not even five minutes later loudly chewing fries without any care wasn’t lost on Jason. “I just…” He made a vague gesture.

“It’s nice that you care.”

Danny glanced at him, surely noticing how charged that sentence was, but didn’t comment on it. “I’ve never seen her be so… careful.” He tilted his head, just like Jazz does. “No. That’s a lie. The last time she behaved like this was when she was covering for me.”

“Covering?”

“Protecting me from our parents.” His eyes glazed over a little bit, remembering. “She doesn’t appreciate dishonesty; but she would cheat, lie and fake smile to Jack and Maddie to keep them away from me.” His eyes were bright blue when he focused back on him. “Just like she tried to pull with me to protect you, bird boy.”

Jason chose to ignore the blooming warmth in his chest and finished the rest of his burger. Danny chuckled, probably knowing what he was thinking. It was getting annoying not being able to hide like he was used to.

“I appreciate your honesty,” the younger man said, placing his head on his hand and resting his elbow on the table. “Your story checks out with what she told me.”

“So you are fine with it?”

“No. Not in a million years,” his smile was definitely threatening, “but somehow you are what my sister wants and she was willing to fight me for you so… you have my interest.”

“Not approval?”

He hummed. “We’ll see about that.” He looked down at the table and lazily pushed aside the empty box. “Keep making her laugh and I will reconsider.” Maybe he noticed Jason’s confused face because he added: “I haven’t heard her laugh in ages.”

“You are joking,” he rolled his eyes, “she laughs and giggles all the time.” Danny wasn’t smiling. “What—”

“You don’t know how she was back there.” His smile turned sad. “I didn’t know how much she was hiding— No, I did know, but I didn’t want to think about it. My sister… She told you about David, but she didn’t say what happened after that. What happened after she killed for the first time. After… everything.”

Danny’s eyes became watery. “I didn’t ask and she didn’t tell me. Every damn time she came back, gave a report and pushed through. I kind of got used to her not coming to me for all this stuff, so I never…” he looked away. “I should have done something. Especially after David. I knew shit went down but I didn’t know it was… that.”

“And what happened? Did she swear off romance?”

“Nothing. She did nothing. She powered through it like she does with everything else — she says she is ‘fine’ and focuses on everyone else, bottling up her emotions, and crying alone when she thinks nobody hears her.”

“Why? Because it's a weakness?”

“Because right after she broke up with him, we had a Siege. I feel like the worst brother ever, but we couldn’t afford her being out of the battle, and then we just… never talked about it?”

Jason hummed and picked up what remained of his burger, shoving it into his mouth as he considered the new piece of information.

He didn’t know how much she wasn’t sharing about her past; but again, there was a lot he wasn’t talking about his. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to be ignorant of aspects of her life at this point.

“In a way,” Danny interrupted his thoughts, “I think it is a good thing she ended up with someone like you.”

Jason lifted an eyebrow. “Someone like me?” A vigilante? A zombie? A criminal?

“She always waited for Robin to fly in and sweep her off her feet. I know this. I’ve read her diary.”

Jason froze. “I’m not Robin.” He growled.

Danny lifted his eyebrows. “You are Red Hood, which is way cooler.” Right. Danny was a fan. “And the Gotham hero she likes the most.”

“I thought you were the fanboy?”

The other chuckled and leaned in. “She had been researching you guys for a while before coming here. Boards, papers, internet forums — anything you can think of, she got her hands on it. She tried to hide it, but her rants about Red Hood were significatively longer than the others. She always said that the finesse and smarts of the execution of Red Hood’s exploits in Gotham were fascinating.” He sipped his drink. “She didn’t mention a duffle bag with severed heads, though.”

Jason didn’t even try to hide the blush. What was the point?

“It’s not public information. The others don’t know about this.” He considered it better. “Or I think they don’t. Bruce is not very keen on sharing with the class if he does.”

“But he has to if he wants us to work together.” Danny continued, eyes fixed on something behind Jason. “Tonight we are going through all the prep for the Justice League meeting… and meet up with the Spirit.”

Jason perked up. “Tonight?”

“Yep.” Danny sipped his drink, but there was nothing else but ice. He looked displeased.

“Can I join?”

---

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[s-4pphics]

a lil meanmechanic!ellie and snobbybitch!reader hc list bc i’m clinically ill and my dark thoughts always win i was gonna write a lil fic but i got tired lol long day 

but hopefully thisll suffice for now😚idk how many imma make for them but the sex gon go crazy

wc;cw: 930 real short n sweet, slutty rude annoying rich!oc, i’m not kidding she’s a bad person, more monologues when will it end, oc is horny and a top letting y’all know rn, imma make this toxic🤭

your shiny brand new pink bentley just stopped working! what the fuck! 

after your dad gifted you your third new car, he instructed you to pull up to the swarovski store and pick up your sparkly limited edition lavender tinted lux chrono watch…. and this happens!

how the fuck were you going to get your new watch without transportation?!

you pulled your phone outta your chanel bag and googled car stopped help…

call a tow truck?!

don’t people just buy new cars when they stop working?! 

you dialed the first number suggested online 

“YELLO!” a friendly gruff voice came through the phone

“ummm, hi, my car stopped working— “

“okay, great! where’s your car located?”

“it’s uh.. near this mall complex.” 

“…okay. i mean…. i mean what’s the address?”

…. you don’t fucking know, you’re stranded!

after spending the next ten minutes asking strangers where the hell you were, you irritatingly whined the address to the man on the phone

why does nothing go your way?!

“okay great! we’ll be there in about an hour to get it!” 

an hour?!

but your swarovski watch—!

“hello?” 

“…yeah, whatever.” you said, hanging up.

this is fucking stupid!

after an hour of angrily pouting in your front seat, you saw a red truck pull up behind you in your rearview 

fucking finally!

you got out your new baby and saw—

oh, fuck

oh fuck!

WEEEEEEWOOOOOOWWEEEEEE—

your brain was sending off red alarms!

behind the man, there was a girl in overalls and a wife-beater, dirty sneakers(yuck!), and a bandana on to keep her sweaty hair outta her face

and your mood immediately got better! 

she’s sexy she’s sexy she’s sexy she’s sexy—

“um, hi! ‘m joel! you called for a tow?” 

oh yeah

“y-yup! that’s me! my cars over there,” you pointed in some random direction as you stared at the girl 

“….okay, uh, we’ll get that loaded and we’ll head over to the repair shop!”

“uh huh,” you were so dazed as you watched her biceps ripple as she got some paperwork outta the car 

“….right!” and he walked away

she’s coming over oh god she’s coming over!

“hey. this your car?”

“mhm!” 

you looked at her name tag 

ellie

hm…wanna fuck?—

“cool. just need you to sign here. we’ll do the diagnosis when we get to the shop—“

you didn’t even care about what the fuck she was saying

you wanna eat her out so bad and buy her whatever she wants 

you work so hard, baby, lemme take the stress away! 

“…are you gonna sign…or?”

you were too busy looking at her freckled face and scarred eyebrows to notice she was holding a clipboard out to you 

how about you sign these damn wedding papers! 

“sorry!”

“it’s cool…yeah, just sign at the bottom.” 

she pointed at the dotted line with her calloused finger and you almost sucked it into your mouth! 

turn her out turn her out!

she finally met your eyes 

you wanted her clit in your mouth—!

“um… you can hop in the truck and we’ll head over, it’s like.. 20 minutes—“

“great! let’s go!”

ride my face!

when you arrived at the dealership, you got…. uncomfortable. 

why was it so loud and… grungy looking?

the nice man that answered the phone—joel— guided you into the garage and ushered you to sit on…. dirty chairs and you wanted god to strike you down now

“we’re gonna take a look at your car! it’s in pretty good condition so it shouldn’t be long!” joel screamed at you from the garage exit

you sat and nodded and 

you looked so outta place in here 

pastel colors, shimmery necklace and bracelets, heels!

you stood out like a sore thumb!

rusted, eggshell walls, dimly lit, dusty floor

you wanna leave so bad what the fuck—

“hey!” 

sike you wanna stay ellie’s so fucking fine—

“your car battery’s connection is loose, we’re gonna replace it—“

“today's my birthday!”

you were biting your lip and looking at her with glossy lust filled eyes and you wanted your head between her thighs—

“….’scuse me?”

“it’s my birthday!”

“happy….. happy birthday?” 

“thank you!” now lemme give you head—

“uh huh….. so, the replacement battery is gonna be $60, i can ring you up right now so you're not waiting when your car’s charged.”

you followed her to the desk and….

her fucking back and her shoulders and her ass—

her back her back! you wanna scratch it and make her scream!—

“cash or card?”

“card. my black card!” she needa know you’ll buy her everything—

“….right. go ‘head and swipe.”

you wanna swipe your tongue on her pussy!

but you swiped your card 

and you also reached in your chanel and grabbed a couple hundreds out

“here you go! for your troubles!” 

“what.”

“you fixed my baby! you should get a huge tip! like a really…. really fat one!

lemme give you this tip!

she must’ve noticed your tone, nastily sweet like honey, because her eyes widened before she let out a shocked scoff

you have her you have her—

“are you kidding me right now?” 

what. 

“hm?”

“i’m askin’ if you’re fucking serious? we don’t accept charity.” and she got up

and she looked mad

what the hell?

“w-what! no, it’s not like that— “

“yeah, whatever, your car will be ready in 20. you can take your money and get the hell out.” 

and she stormed off with a slam of the back door. 

…..

oh my god?

…

you want her even more now! 

[home2venus]

LOVE IS A SINKING SHIP

── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe  summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of han so-hee, firmly in denial. genre/tags. post-break up, getting back together, pining, accidental confessions, humor, incredibly whipped jungkook ─ 3.9k words ─ this is han so-hee's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐

Han So-hee knows what love is, and she knows for a fact that love is not found in a laundromat.

She just truly, desperately, wildly wants and needs Jeon Jungkook to get that through his head before he convinces her otherwise. That man is really too persuasive for his own good, and Han So-hee does not want to bend on this issue.

Jungkook, however, seems to have other plans.

“Can you leave me alone?”

“I love you.”

“Like, for one second, that’s all I’m asking. One second, I promise, after one singular second you can go back to bothering me, but like— One second, I feel like one second isn’t so much to ask. Just don’t talk to me, don’t say a single word, it’s really not so hard.”

“I love you,” he says again, and So-hee just sighs. Jungkook is kicking his legs back and forth, smiling at her hopefully like a child. Because, honestly, he might as well be one. Even at 25 years old, he acts like she used to when she went to the laundromat with her mother as a child. Looking at him again, with his hoodie slipping off one shoulder and his wide, doe-like, brown eyes staring at her pleadingly, she decides that he was far worse than her as a child, because she can’t remember ever being this annoying.

“So-hee,” Jungkook whines, grabbing at her sleeve as she turns from him, “I love you.”

So-hee, instead of looking at him, resolutely declares to herself that the moment she gets home she’s calling her mother to apologize for ever behaving slightly similar to the way he is right now. Her mother deserves ten awards, maybe a nobel peace prize, and, at the very least, ten winning lottery tickets.

Jungkook is her boyfriend, or he used to be her boyfriend before she wisened up and figured out he was no good. He’s pretty, and sweet, and fairly smart on the occasions where he uses whatever brain he has in there. He’s so funny that she has to sometimes grind her teeth together and zone out to keep from laughing or smiling, because to give in to his jokes means he has won. But he’s an asshole: an immature, reckless asshole that So-hee should want, does want, nothing to do with. So, she broke up with him, and that should’ve been the end of it.

It’s been two months since they broke up, and So-hee is still getting used to an empty apartment where he used to be. He didn’t live there, he had his own place with a couple of his guy friends, but he was over so often that he had carved a permanent place in her home. So-hee can feel the void where he used to be whenever she goes home.

In other news, So-hee has been spending a lot of time out of the house. Online forums say fresh air is the best way to get over a breakup, so it’s not like she’s being unhealthy. She’s fine. She’s so fucking fine.

So-hee takes the clothes out of the dryer and slams them into the empty laundry basket.

She’s fine.

When So-hee turns around to load the rest of her dirty clothes into the washing machine, Jungkook is still there. He’s quieter, not chatty or pleading like he’s been the whole time after she broke things off. He’s just... quiet; Maybe even introspective. He’s just looking at her with an unreadable stare. And he is not leaving. He sits on the washing machine and kicks his feet as she throws more clothing in, not even looking at it. She knows they won’t wash as well if she doesn’t shake them out, turn them the right side in, but the risk of Jungkook seeing something of his in her basket of dirty laundry is too high to risk. So-hee’s fingers catch on a loose string, and she knows from just the feeling of the fabric that it’s the old college sweatshirt she never gave back, the embroidered logo of white flames through a red circle faded and worn with time. She shoves it into the machine and then buries it underneath her own clothing. 

So-hee can almost feel his stare, even though she knows it’s not actually possible. Something about his presence is heavy. Something about his presence makes her feel something complicated, and complicated is very rarely something So-hee likes to deal with. She sighs loudly, and gives him a pointed glare, and he raises his hands placatingly; an easy grin replacing the contemplative look he was wearing just moments prior.

“Shut up,” she says childishly, and she does not notice the way his eyes gleam at the recognition or the way his posture straigtens as she notices him. The whole reason why they broke up is because he never cared, because he was too reckless and messy and indifferent. He didn’t care about anything, and in the beginning it was fun, because he knew how to have fun and keep the fun going. But they’re adults, and going with the flow doesn’t buy houses or keep jobs or stay stable. 

“I didn’t say a word,” he says with an audible smile, and So-hee hates the way he can reduce her of every bit of wit she knows that she has. So-hee’s smarter than this, she knows she is. She’s always been quick with words, and she’s always known how to make her words sharp to a point and sharp as a blade. Jungkook takes that away from her, and the worst thing is that he doesn’t even mean to. So-hee snaps away from him with a roll of her eyes and a grimace —truly not her finest moment— and barely notices the water rising in the building as she grumbles frustrations under her breath. 

So-hee doesn’t notice the water until it’s about waist high, and she can’t see the tops of the washer and dryer units anymore. She swears, and pushes at Jungkook who is saying something that she refuses to listen to. The water pushes them upwards, and a silly, stupid part of her feels like she’s in Titanic; the movie, not the tragedy. Jungkook is still smiling at her, even as the water reaches their chests and they’re practically swimming towards the ceiling. So-hee, because she’s a genius, manages to push at him and the ceiling at the same time. He barely drifts away from her, but the water is reaching their necks, and one of those things is far more pressing than the other. 

As they barely escape the laundromat —through the cieling, of all places, and then through the vents that lead outside— Jungkook is blessedly, strangely silent. He doesn’t talk to So-hee as they escape, just watches her with an unfaltering focus and care. When they finally are on solid ground, soaked in the cool, late night air, he keeps a steady hand on her shoulder. She’s nearly coughing her lungs out, the hand drifts to her back to rub soft, comforting circles. It’s off-putting, because Jungkook shouldn’t have that focus, doesn’t have that focus. He’s messy and careless, and that’s all he is. He can’t be anything else.

He can’t be. 

So-hee has known Jungkook for years, has gone on countless outings alone with him or with his weird, codependent friend group or with his rotation of dogs that he’s always fostering or babysitting or adopting. She knows that he cares about things, that he’s given his whole life to his family and his best friends and his job and his passions. But, she knows Jungkook. She knows that he’s selfish and possessive and impulsive. So-hee knows that he thought he loved her, and So-hee knows that he still thinks he loves her, but So-hee knows better. 

Jungkook dedicates everything in him to what he loves, and he dedicated himself to her. He loves her, according to him, but So-hee knows better because dedication runs out and love runs out and passion runs out. Jungkook is running on empty, and one day he would regret ever loving her, and then where would she be? 

So-hee knows better.

She doesn’t even say goodbye when she leaves for the train. He’s still standing out in the nighttime rain, alone and soaking wet. She doesn’t look him in the eyes when she leaves, and she doesn’t turn around.

So-hee knows better. So-hee knows it’s for the better. She still does not look at Jungkook.

The train ride home is a long and silent one. She checks her twitter feed in an attempt to not make eye contact with any of the other people on the train, who are unsubtly staring at her dripping wet hair and soaked clothing. On the news, there’s a mention of a laundromat flooded by a freak accident, and So-hee catches a glimpse of a photo taken by the on-site reporters. In the background, there’s a man and he looks pathetic and exhausted and sad and determined. So-hee can’t look at him.

So-hee goes home to a pathetic, sad apartment, and she is deeply exhausted. She changes into dry clothes, and pins her hair up, and resolves to take a clean shower and change her sheets tomorrow. She passes out the moment she hits the bed, and she does not dream, because she never does.

She wishes she had, if only to justify the thoughts of Jungkook still remaining when she wakes up in the morning. 

In the quiet light of morning, with music playing softly as she loses a fight with the omelette she’s attempting to make, she realizes that she cares a lot more than she wants to. She realizes that she cares a lot more than she should. It’s a startling realization, if only for how mundane it is. It crosses her mind leisurely, wearing the disguise of something normal, because it is something normal. The thought crosses the streets of her mind hand in hand with I’m hungry and Don’t forget to pick up mom’s perscription later and Is it embarrassing that I still can’t cook eggs. 

I still love him, she thinks, and it’s completely normal. 

I still love him, she thinks, and I still love him so much more than I should.

What makes her uncomfortable isn’t the thought, but the fact that the thought wasn’t uncomfortable. It’s an unsettlingly normal thought to have, like it’s lived inside her long enough to be comfortable, like it’s made a home in her mind. 

What’s uncomfortable is that loving him is a part of her. What’s uncomfortable is that the love she has has settled into her home and her life and her routine. The love settles under her fingernails and in her hair, settles in the cat toys littered around her house and the trinkets that clutter her shelves and tables and workdesk. 

She loved him and she loves him and she misses him. 

In the soft light of morning, So-hee sits on her kitchen counter next to a plate of rapidly cooling eggs. Her legs swing and her cats bat at her socks, meowing and pestering her for food. So-hee doesn’t even look at them, her eyes faraway and staring down at her blindingly bright phone screen. She has a couple missed calls from a number she doesn’t recognize, and eventually just blocked once they started calling well into midnight, and one unread text message from an account she should’ve blocked a long time ago if she had any dignity.

Jungkook: we left our wallets at the laundromat.

So-hee takes a deep breath and steels herself.

So-hee: Thanks, I’ll pick it up there later today.

Jungkook: i dont think thats gonna work

So-hee: Why not?

Jungkook: they gave ur stuff to me bc my wallet was at the top of the basket and they assumed it was mine. the laundromat is still closed, is there anywhere i can meet u to give it back?

Let it be known that, usually, So-hee is a rational woman. Usually, she does not make decisions that will hurt herself, especially not knowingly, and she rarely ever makes rash decisions.

So-hee: Just come to my place to drop it off.

Usually, So-hee is a rational woman. Not always.

Jungkook: really???

So-hee: Do you not remember my address?

Jungkook: no i remember ur address ! i’ll be there in fifteen :)

So-hee: Alright. Drive safely.

So-hee is staring at her phone. So-hee puts her phone down, and does not scream or cry or have any other disproportinate and dramatic reaction. She is so calm and collected and not stressed in any way. So-hee is the most normal, well-adjusted woman in all of South Korea, possibly even the world, and one man will not change that for her. 

To show how well-adjusted she is, she changes her clothes seven times in the mirror, and arranges and disassembles and rearranges a messy bun another fourteen times. On her seventh outfit —a baby tee and low waisted sweatpants with the same fuzzy socks— So-hee turns to see Hammer staring at her judgementally.

“Don’t look at me like that,” So-hee whines, throwing herself dramatically on the bed and burying her face in her hands.

Hammer does not respond, because Hammer is a cat.

“Don’t judge me, Hammer,” So-hee continues, “Not all of us can be nonchalant cool kids, you know?”

Hammer does not know. Hammer wants breakfast, not an existensial crisis.

The doorbell rings, and So-hee does not look up. The doorbell rings again, and it takes a moment, but So-hee flings herself up with wide eyes. She races out of her bedroom, checking herself in the mirror one more time. She looks perfect, because So-hee has always known that she’s gorgeous. But, this time, it’s not about being pretty. It’s about being cool. She slows as she reaches the front door, schooling her face into something that looks effortlessly calm, and opens the door.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, startled and looking slightly embarrassed.

“Hey yourself,” She says back, straight-faced. She’s so fucking cool. She steps back, and gestures for him to come inside. He hesitates, looking at her intently like he hasn’t been begging to be around her for the past month. She’s shocked he didn’t just open the door and sit on the couch all by himself.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and she rolls her eyes fondly.

“I’m always sure,” She says, lying through her teeth, “Anyway, I don’t know how you’d bring my laundry inside without, y’know, stepping inside?” 

“Yeah,” He says, blushy and nervous, “Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” He stumbles through the door like he’s never done it before, like it’s not his thousandth time being in her house. It’s upsettingly endearing, the way that he’s a bumbling fool of a man. 

“I’m always right, it’s nothing to apologize for.” So-hee says, shooting him a smile. She would say that she doesn’t know why she’s bothering to comfort him, but due to previous realizations that day, she thinks she has a pretty strong clue why. It starts with L and ends in oving this stupid idiot to an unhealthy degree. 

He sets the laundry basket down in her living room, all of it dried out from being in police storage overnight as they emptied out everything that was once in the laundromat. It’s wrinkled, and she’ll have to find a new laundromat to rewash and dry everything, but it’s back in her possession. Marsh-ie and Hammer leave their spot at their food dishes and sprint as fast as their kitten legs can carry them to Jungkook, who laughs and crouches down to coddle them with babytalk and pets. So-hee remembers then that she has forgotten to feed them, so she moves over to the kitchen area, still watching him over the counter and thanking the apartment gods that she has one with an open concept kitchen and living space. She pours them both food and water softly, trying not to attract attention from them or Jungkook.

“Hi baby,” He coos, and So-hee flinches at the way she almost responds on instinct to the endearment. She turns quietly, but he’s immersed in Marsh-ie and Hammer’s antics, smiling softly as Marsh-ie bats at his hands and Hammer tries to climb up his back. 

I love you, she almost says. 

“Want some coffee?” She says instead, and he startles. She almost regrets disturbing him, but the cats have already left at the sound of her voice, realizing that breakfast has finally been served. He looks hopeful for a moment, and then deeply, deeply tired.

“I do,” He says glumly, and she furrows her brow in confusion at his downtrodden look.

“...But?” She prompts, and he looks downright murderous to the point that she’s almost worried for herself, before he finally stands up to look at her and his eyes soften to something sweeter. He smiles a smile that looks more like a forced grimace, and shakes his head.

“I’d stay, but the guys have been planning brunch for a while now, and Hobi would kill me if I cancelled on them this short notice,” Jungkook says. So-hee hums thoughtfully, and he looks at her nervously.

“No worries,” she says, “Thanks so much for coming then, if I had known I’d make you late for other plans I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It was my pleasure! The guys know that I’d do whatever you ask, so they won’t mind my lateness” He says with an earnest grin, and the worst part is that So-hee really does believe him. So-hee knows that he doesn’t even realize that what he says would be embarrassing for anyone else to admit, especially to their ex-girlfriend, and she knows that he doesn’t care. So-hee doesn’t understand that confidence, the disregard of any and every social boundary in a pursuit to show love for someone. She does understand the art of changing the subject though.

“Well, still, thanks for that. Have a safe drive over to brunch then, I won’t keep you waiting,” So-hee says, grabbing his jacket off the kitchen stool he draped it over and tossing it over his shoulders as he bends down to say bye to her cats. It’s quiet as Jungkook leaves, only the sound of residual cat purrs and the shuffling of him putting on sneakers. He puts the jacket on more firmly, and smiles hesitantly at her.

“Oh!” She says, and Jungkook takes a step back, eyes wide. He startles easily, So-hee notes absently, I don’t know why he’s so nervous. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook questions tentatively, and she snaps her fingers at him.

“Hobi is the one with a dance studio, right?” She asks, leaning closer.

“Uh, yeah, he is. I didn’t think you remembered that-”

“Of course I remembered, I remember everything you tell me,” she says absently, waving him off as she scrambles around her kitchen for a pen and paper. She’s rummaging through a junk drawer when she calls over to him, “Wait just a second!” Jungkook’s barely paying attention anyway though, his eyes wide and his hand over his mouth as he repeats her words disbelieving under his breath.

“Everything?” He whispers, and she hums in questioning. He goes to ask further, but she shoves a notecard with a phone number and a name on it into his hands.

“If Hobi’s ever looking for a ballet instructor, he can call this number,” So-hee rambles, “It’s one of my cousins on my mom’s side, and she’s such a great dancer that it’s almost maddening. She’s a little annoying, but not terribly so, and she’s such a fantastic teacher-”

“Wait, So-hee-” Jungkook tries, but she’s still talking.

“And if he has any space in that contemporary class, tell him to let me know because my sister has been scrambling for a good dance studio nearby for her daughter.”

“I’ll have to ask Jimin, because he teaches contemporary. But, So-hee-”

“Alright, thanks so much, you’re the best in the world, I literally love you so much.” So-hee says breathlessly, and Jungkook feels just as breathless, the air knocked out of him. His face is a little pale and his hands are a little shaky, and So-hee frowns, lightly putting her fingers on his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, “You look a little sick, Jungkook, are you-” 

I literally love you so much. I literally love you so much. 

Oh, fuck.

Jungkook looks at her, and So-hee looks at him, both of them now pale and slightly shaky.

“I-” So-hee starts and then doesn’t finish, the words barely leaving her. Jungkook’s eyes are shiny, and hopeful, and So-hee hates herself for how much she wants to fall into them, into him. She loves him.

So-hee loves Jungkook. So-hee loves Jungkook more than she’s ever loved anything, and that is a big, scary feeling to feel. So-hee’s love could fill an ocean, and that is a big, scary place to be able to fill with love for one man, one person, one anything. 

Love is a big, scary thing.

“I think you should go,” So-hee says, instead of saying any of that. So-hee is a coward.

Jungkook smiles at her, all sad and soft and patient. So-hee hates him. So-hee hates that stupid face and stupid smile and stupid patience that makes her feel cruel and evil and mean. She hates him and she’s terrified of him and she loves him.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, because Jungkook cannot just be reckless and immature because that would be too easy, but he must also be patient and loving and brave. She hums in acknowledgement, and he hesitates for a moment, but he leans in and kisses her right under her eye.

So-hee didn’t even realize she was near tears until right then. She doesn’t say anything, even as he fully walks out the door and slowly shuts it behind him. So-hee can’t even cry. She just stares at the wall and pets her cats and it’s so quiet. So-hee wishes she had begged Jungkook to stay for a few more minutes, if only for the sound of him embarrassingly babytalking her cats could drown out what she hears in her own thoughts. There’s the leftover heat of a kiss right below her eyes, and she wipes harshly at her eyes, partially to clear the tears and partially a futile attempt to remove the sting of what could’ve been, if So-hee stopped being so scared all the time.

In So-hee’s apartment, where a light breeze flutters the curtains but the bright sun warms the floor, So-hee can hear the vivid sounds of an ocean flooding a laundromat and the impossibly clearer sound of her heart breaking on her kitchen floor.

So-hee loves Jungkook, and So-hee is terrified of loving Jungkook, and So-hee hopes that love is not found in a laundromat. Selfishly, So-hee hopes that Jungkook continues to love her and continues to wait for her, and continues to pursue her so that one day, she can love him in a place where she isn’t surrounded by baskets of her dirty laundry.

The dirty laundry, So-hee reminds herself with a glance at the laundry basket sitting innocently by her couch. Jungkook’s sweatshirt lies at the top, next to her wallet and a note in his familar bad handwriting that says ‘I love you.’

I love you, So-hee says back, if only in her own mind.

[lynzishell]

Phoenix arrives at his new school. As he stares up at the building, with cliques of students chatting out front and making their way inside, he can’t help but wonder why the hell he agreed to come here. He could easily drop out, earn his diploma online, and move on with his life. Tempting…

For now, he makes his way inside, looking for the main office.

“Hey Phoenix!” calls the familiar voice of his new friend, Aurelio. They haven’t seen each other since the day in the park. They’d somehow forgotten to exchange numbers.

Phoenix: Hey, man, how’s it goin? Aurelio: Oh y’know, another day in paradise. This is my friend Morgan. [Morgan waves distractedly while glancing around, clearly looking for someone else.] Aurelio: So what’s your first class? Phoenix: Not sure yet, I’m supposed to meet with the principal to g—Morgan: SOPHIA!!! Over here!

They are quickly bombarded with squeals as a blur of blonde hair rushes over to tackle Morgan.

Aurelio: Aha, and this is Sophia.

Morgan: Soo?? How was it? Did you LOVE it? Sophia: It was fucking amazing!! It was so hard, I literally played until my fingers bled, but it was fucking amazing! Oh my god Aurelio, you would’ve loved it, I wish you could’ve come. Morgan: I’ve missed you so much! You need to tell me everything! Sophia: Yes yes! I’ll fill you in… but first, who’s your friend and why is he looking at me like I’m a crazy person? Phoenix: I’m Phoenix, and I actually have to run. I still need my class schedule. I’ll catch up with you guys later!

Aurelio: Way to go, Soph, you scared him off! Sophia: oh whatever [laughs]

Phoenix makes his way to the principal’s office around the corner. As he steps inside, the woman behind the desk stands to greet him. Mei: Mr. Realta, I presume, come on in. I have your paperwork… here we are. This is your class schedule, along with a map, and this will be your locker and combination. Unless you have any questions, I’ll let you be on your way. Phoenix: I’m good. Thanks.

Pleased with how quick and to-the-point the meeting was, he made his way to his locker to check the combination before heading to his first class.

As usual, the first day was pointless. As the teacher drones on about expectations and schedule of exams, he’s already plotting how to get out of this tiny, boring town. He’d need to get a job. He has some money saved, but not enough to get him far. If he had a job, and the money for a down payment, would Julian co-sign for him to get a studio apartment in the city? He felt the one thing holding him back was being too young to sign a lease, and he still had six months before he turned 18.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the bell. Lunch time, finally.

As he makes his way into the cafeteria, he spots Aurelio and his friends from this morning.

Morgan and Sophia are deep in their own conversation as he takes the seat across from Aurelio.

Phoenix: So, is there anything to do in this town? I’m going stir crazy over here. Aurelio: Usually, no. People hang out by the thrift store in town, or out at the pier sometimes. Buuuut… I did hear there’s a party at the Bluffs tonight, if you’re interested. Morgan: Seriously? Sophia: Yup! It’s nice out there today. Storm rolls in tomorrow so it might be our last chance for a while. Aurelio: You in? Phoenix: Yeah, I’m in!

Just then someone takes the seat next to Phoenix. He’s immediately annoyed by how close the guy sits next to him, clearly trying to make a point as he leans in.

Wolfgang: So who’s our new friend? Phoenix: I’m Phoenix. [hoping to convey his irritation in his tone]

Wolfgang chuckles to himself, but Morgan interrupts him before he can speak.

Morgan: What do you want, Wolfgang? Wolfgang: Easy… y’know, Morgan, we used to be friends.

Morgan rolls her eyes.

Wolfgang: I overheard you guys talking about the party tonight. I’m collecting money for supplies if you want to pitch in. Morgan and Sophia: (in unison) We’re good. Wolfgang: What about you, Penis? You want in?

Phoenix smirks, there it is, the push… ok, more of an annoying nudge… but it was enough. But just as he’s about to speak, Aurelio reaches over and hands Wolfgang a twenty, throwing him off.

Aurelio: Here. You can go now. Wolfgang: Why thank you. I can always count on you, Leo.

As Wolfgang walks away, Morgan and Sophia are staring daggers at Aurelio.

Aurelio: What? Easier than trying to get it myself. Sophia: Oh, you’re trying to get it, alright.

Aurelio just laughs, leaving Phoenix thoroughly confused. He’s clearly not in on whatever joke this is. But the bell rings before he can try for any explanation.

Prev // Next

Poses by StarrySimsie, rebouks, Simmerianne93, SamsSims

[docholligay]

House in Fata Morgana: Door 6.75

I have never reviewed a visual novel before, but iscahwynn made me a very generous offer and a long line of patience, knowing that we are trying something very new. To that end: Please don’t spoil me for the game at all! If you are reading this, I have only gotten through the part written above, and I don’t want to be corrected, even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve missed something, i don’t want to have anything confirmed or denied, and I don’t need any trigger warnings or extraneous explanation. Iscah would like my pure, naive experience of the game. Thank you!

Okay so I absolutely did not make it to the next door, which is frustrating for me from a scheduling standpoint, but makes sense narratively, I should have trusted that the door situation was streamlined and that’s on me. 

So, let’s first get aside all of the notes about Morgana’s life. It much the way it frustrated me with Giselle, it frustrates me that none of Morgana’s problems can be a result of her own actions, or feelings, or whatever. I feel really fucking bad for her, but in the sort of way you do a kicked dog, not a human being you feel empathy with. She acts like a fucking saint, it is very difficult to think of that sort of person as being a fully realized human. BUT, I do love that we meet with Mell and Yukimasa and Jacopo, though of course owing to the shortness of the story but, they’re all very mustache-twirling and not nearly as interesting and layered as I found their stories within their own doors. But I think that’s fair. 

Couple standout things here for me: I am not so sure that she doesn’t have some sort of power, but I also think the argument she doesn’t is completely legitimate, and I love that! I love not really knowing, certainly not every person who ever had a torturous life and horrible death gerts to wreak fucking havoc, i’m just saying. But I love that it could just be sheer faith, in both love and hate. 

The way that she cuts herself, and people love her and praise her for it, and so she comes to cherish her hurts and cuts. Loved this as an example of the ways that, in how we online socially reward sadness and brokenness with attention, contribute to this idea of cherishing our hurts. This isn’t me saying that we should never share anything that sucks online, but I think all of us are pretty aware of how responses to a creative, or happy post can be versus a post about something bad can be, and I think that can be reinforcing, and you start to see those as immutable parts of you. Anyway, send hatemail, it’s fine. 

BUT WHAT WE’RE REALLY HERE FOR. Okay so I called Michel being Michelle but I have to confess, “Michel is a trans man” (Kinda????????? I guess???????? I don’t fucking know, he says his body is male now and that was not strictly speaking possible in 1099, so unless there was magic involved or he’s being metaphorical or something here, I have no idea what’s going on) is NOT where I expected the game to go and I am sucking my TEETH with nervousness about how they’ll handle this. All of my reticence for Michel and Michelle being the same person comes out of my fear that they will handle the gender thing so so so badly, and I still absolutely feel that way. 

I am pleased, I guess, in a narrative sense, that they have Giselle respond in a reasonable and common way for a woman of her time, and honestly, all the times she’s lived in. I expected full on “Bodies don’t matter to me <3” which does annoy me in “historical” fiction. Of course it happened, but it was not all that commonplace, and it’s just something that grates me. So even if she comes around, and I suspect she will, I’m glad we got to avoid magical cool girl from 1099 Giselle. She had a reaction that feels bad and is historically plausible as shit. We love that! Gives her room to move and makes everything feel less fake. 

Also, did Michel seriously think he was never going to have to confront this KID, COME ON. For someone who has built up a shield of never trusting anyone around yourself you sure are trusting that Giselle is going to this thing that she could not reasonably have seen coming REAL FUCKIN WELL. It’s such a part of the contradiction of Michel. He’s closed off, he’s vulnerable. He’s cruel, he’s tender. He’s intelligent, he’s A FUCKING MORON. I love him! I am going to punch him in the fucking face! 

ONTO DOOR 7 FOR REAL I GUESS

[rainnotliam]

“I’d love for you to show me the sights of Paldea as well! Oh? Well yes, perhaps you’d even like to call it a date!”

_________Notes:

Okay so I’m so sorry I had to draw more of Modern AU Volo instead of working on my fics… do not underestimate how distracted I can get, my attention span spins. Anyways, have a short little story:

It was terrifyingly awkward walking right along with this man, who called himself Volo. You swore he looked faintly familiar… but couldn’t remember why. Was he in an article you read online once? No, no, that couldn’t be…

“So! Your name is Y/N, am I right?”

The sudden question popped your little thought bubble into the wind. You looked at him with a questioning gaze.

“Unless there’s someone else with my name, I’d assume yes,” you said.

If possible, Volo’s smile stretched even wider, so brilliant, you could’ve sworn it was Arceus shining his reign down upon you peasants.

“So I did get the right person!”

He leaned to the side slightly closer. You frowned and looked to your left. At least this wasn’t far from the academy doors. What did Volo want with Director Clavell anyway?

“What? Someone sent for you to look for me to look for someone else?” Sarcasm dripped from your words.

“No need to be defensive around me, my friend,” Volo chuckled.

“If you appear out of nowhere with no communication, of course I have a right to be defensive and suspicious,” you shot back.

That’s when a hand firmly gripped your right shoulder. You managed to say a “Huh!?” in confusion, before getting pulled right against Volo.

“You’re a feisty one. But people like you are all words no show,” he said.

He puts one finger right in front of your mouth as you try to shoot another insult. “I’m certain I could also need someone to help me right now like you. People are staring.”

Indeed, folks were watching. But not all eyes were on you. They were on Volo, practically glued to the man. You felt uncomfortable as people glared daggers at you, but shook your head.

At least you could move your hands. A Pokéball flew out, and within moments, your starter was walking behind both of you. They returned the glares with a single move of their typings, threats spelled in their sharp eyes.

“Seems like your famous or something…”

“Jealous?” Volo inquired.

“N-no! That’s ridiculous!” You managed to sputter out to him.

The latter hummed, murmuring phrases that included the word denial. You decided enough was enough- why the hell did he piss you off so much!?

“Can you just stop acting like we’re best buddies or something?” You smacked his hand off of you.

Volo looked at you with an offensive stare. “I’m just trying to help out with whatever in Arceus is up with your mood.”

Anger started boiling in your stomach. Why? Why did you feel so much hatred to him? He didn’t even do anything wrong!

“Oh yeah, like clinging onto me is going to help,” you scoffed.

He went silent for a few moments. You watched as he shook his head in disbelief at your attitude, opting to put his hands inside his jeans pockets.

You only huffed before walking with crossed arms. He followed after a moments hesitation, head bowed down.

Even your starter looked appalled at your way of treating Volo. They returned into their Pokéball, only receiving an annoyed groan from you.

The turning points from Mesagoza here and there were more awkward than ever. There was an occasional “Who is that?” and “Is that his partner, or is the blondie single?”

He didn’t even look up at that. You grit your teeth, trying to remind yourself he was being annoying…

Before you turned your gaze back in one moment.

Volo was biting his lip, Arceus cap about to fall down from how he looked down onto the ground. His eyes darted to meet your own, before dodging to look at something else.

You stopped walking. He did too, though looked a little confused.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

You sighed. How dense was this man?

Volo slightly flinched as you walked closer to him, before realizing what you were doing. You straightened his cap, and brushed back a few hair strands here and there. He looked slightly surprised, standing there with a dumb expression.

“Stop looking so sad. I forgive you… and I admit I was being a jerk,” you muttered the last part a little quieter.

His mouth opened and closed like a Magikarp’s.

“Uhm-”

You smiled. “Pay me back making you look oh-so-fabulous with some sandwich specialties at a nearby restaurant.”

Anddddd there it was. His cheerful aura returned within an instant, a smile painting his face.

“I’d love for you to later show me the sights of Paldea too!”

“Sounds like something a couple would do,” you murmured.

Immediately, you wish you took back your words.

“Oh? Well yes, perhaps you’d even like to call it a date!”

Volo allowed himself a smug grin, as a faint trace of blush spread onto your cheeks. He was quick to take your hand, even.

You pretended to be annoyed, and groaned on how much further both of you had to walk. But secretly?

You felt slight joy hit close to your heart. Maybe today wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought?

[lee-hakhyun]

sorry for continuing to spam your inbox; i am very enthusiastic about the secondhand information i hear, and i love hearing your thoughts a lot. lemme know if it gets annoying, though!

last thing about the 41st round being an alternate version here like the 1863rd round leading to 1864

you see, the secretive plotter first tried to change things himself - but in the end, he was just revisiting a past he couldn’t change, thus continuing the cycle of regressors reliving their grief

but secretive plotter’s actions regarding the alternate 1863 is different. it’s different because he had gotten someone else to help change yoo joonghyuk’s ending

first han sooyoung, in order for her to ensure his death - the closest thing to suicide the secretive plotter could have, via the disconnected film theory. and then kim dokja, who was brought in out of spite, wanting to prove to himself and the reader that his presence changes nothing.

except it did change things. it created a world that the secretive plotter - yoo joonghyuk of ways of survival - had never heard of before. all because he had, whatever the intentions were, asked for help. and this theme of reaching out for help is actually echoed throughout the story; if none of the details are changed, it just becomes another stage transformation, but if there’s someone else, if you’re not repeating the same events alone… you could write a better ending

it’s even in the revision of the ‘world after the fall’. i never actually read it in full myself, but there’s a translation of the last chapter available online for free if you look for it. there, yoo joonghyuk makes a sudden appearance at the very end; as the story’s lonely protagonist jaehwan waits to die under a bookshop’s debris caused by an earthquake, he is suddenly saved by a character from the book he was reading while trapped. and when jaehwan bemoans that his rescue was only possible because of literal cosmic intervention, yoo joonghyuk responds;

“there are some things that we can’t change ourselves. it took me a long time to realize this.”

and here lee hakhyun is, a writer, brought in to rewrite the story of a wordline often spoken of as a tragedy, making decisions that neither yoo joonghyuk, han sooyoung nor kim dokja would have ever done.

god i wish i was in a position to pay for the chapters. i’m betting it’s delicious over there

noo anon i love hearing your ideas too keep talking!! oh that quote. things that can't be changed

and maybe things that can be changed by someone else. lee hakhyun's exclusive skill is literally one that rewrites, if there's someone who is meant to rewrite a story now it's him

lee hakhyun never knew kim dokja personally, and maybe because he didn't write orv specifically for him and having written so many settings for characters that never showed up in orv, he's clearly paying more attention to the extra characters, giving everyone in geumho station a chance to survive as for why, i think it's a difference in core values kim dokja and han sooyoung, prioritizing the ones closest to them over everything else and yoo joonghyuk + now lee hakhyun, while keeping those close to them also doing more to aid those who they don't know

it might just be my interpretation, but it's interesting and lee hakhyun ending up in cheon inho's body.. a man who did not care for other life at all. and the way he's constantly calling himself a villain even as he's trying to save people

i am so interested in seeing how lee hakhyun develops, there's so much that could be done with him i drafted something about this and never posted it but lee hakhyun is more 'just some guy' than kim dokja. his trauma stemming from him being just so normal, and the specter in the phantom prison saying there's nothing in him there's something there about him inciting himself as other people to act as them, and him using kim dokja's story in his trauma, i just can't put it into words yet

authors ending up in their creation and having to deal with their own world,, (i love you too shang qinghua)

[can-of-pringles]

When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 4

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Copia wants to listen to the song Silas recommended but there are a few obstacles he needs to get past in order to do that.

Also Read on AO3

Despite the work he had, Copia still made time to listen to the song. It had proved more difficult than he’d thought to even find a way to listen to the song. He supposed he could’ve asked Silas for a copy or something, but wanted to figure it out himself. Throughout this whole situation, it reminded him to make a mental note to look into newer technology.

Copia didn’t have his own computer or cellphone, just a small TV in his room and an old phone. Sure, they had record players all over the ministry, but it would be useless without the record itself, and he didn’t want to buy it without listening first.

However, there were others that had newer tech. He knew that Sister Imperator had a computer in her office, but didn’t want to ask. As much as she had an apparent soft spot for him, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask. That left him with one option.

---

Copia knocked on the door and waited for a response. He made sure to always knock on Terzo’s door after one unfortunate incident. It took days for Copia to get the image out of his mind. Obviously, he knew that Terzo was quite the busy man, practically flirting with everyone that caught his fancy, but that didn’t mean Copia wanted to see the end results of that.

“Ter—I mean, Papa Terzo?” Copia asked. Even though they were practically adoptive brothers; growing up together in the ministry’s location in Italy, he couldn’t forget his manners. Titles were important.

“Go away, Copia. I’m busy.”

Copia frowned.

So maybe only he respected the titles.

“Busy? But it’s late at night.” He furrowed his brows.

“Exactly,”

“I need your help… please?” He admitted.

Copia heard a loud, annoyed sigh before the door was suddenly opened, causing him to jump back in surprise. Terzo stuck his head out the crack in the door and looked up at him, his brows knitted and fighting the urge to frown. Copia tried hiding his surprise at seeing him without his makeup. He’d gotten so used to seeing him with a face full of makeup every day.

“What could you possibly need help with? You shouldn’t be working this late, anyway.” Terzo scolded.

“I’ve seen you work late nights, though.” Copia pointed out.

He exhaled through his nose and frowned, squinting at him. “Why are you here, Copia?”

“Well… there’s uh, this song I want to listen to… but I don’t have the record obviously, and I thought maybe… I could borrow your cellphone to listen to it?” He chuckled nervously.

Terzo usually at least tried to stay somewhat connected online through his phone. Though he used it sparingly, mostly for calls and texts and the occasional time when he was bored and wanted to laugh at people acting stupid online.

He remained silent, his annoyance growing into curiosity.

“I promise I only need it for five minutes or so, and then I’ll immediately give it back!” Copia exclaimed. “Please?”

Terzo crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe as he thought. “Don’t you usually go to some record shop and pick up music there? Why the sudden urge to listen to whatever song this is immediately?”

Copia glanced away, not really wanting to explain that he wanted to impress Silas. “Someone gave me a song recommendation, and I wanted to listen to it and tell them what I thought the next day…” He murmured.

“Hmm… who?” Terzo tilted his head.

“What? Why does that matter?” He fidgeted with his hands.

Terzo had a small smile on his face. “Just curious…”

“Nobody you’d know.” Copia shrugged.

“If it’s nobody, then why won’t you say?”

The Cardinal made some noises in exasperation. “The janitor, there! Happy?”

Terzo hummed and touched his chin, trying to remember. “The one with dark brown hair and eyes, nice beard, and a pretty face?”

Copia felt a weird pang in his chest when Terzo referred to Silas as pretty. It wasn’t that he was wrong per se, Copia had eyes and could admit when he thought others were beautiful, however, it just felt wrong coming from his brother figure. He brushed it off, blaming his tiredness.

“Yes. Mr. Petersson,” he stated.

“Interesting… you two were talking about music? But not about the band.”

Copia really didn’t want to get into the whole past situation, finding Silas playing the piano and all of that. “No, not about the band. It was just some small talk.”

“You’re terrible at small talk.” Terzo raised a brow.

“I was being polite.” Copia huffed, getting frustrated at how long this was taking. “Now, may I please borrow your phone?”

After a minute, Terzo sighed and nodded. “Yes, but only because I’m feeling particularly nice tonight. Return it as soon as you’re done.”

He left the door and went to retrieve it, leaving the door open somewhat and unintentionally, allowing Copia to take a quick look in his room. The Cardinal furrowed his brows when he saw a glimpse of the Ghoul, Omega, there, but then quickly looked down at his shoes once Terzo had come back.

“Here,” he handed the phone to him, “don’t break it.”

Copia smiled. “Thank you, fratello.” He placed it in his pocket.

“Talk with you later,” Terzo said before closing the door.

“Oh… okay, then,” Copia muttered.

He didn’t say how to return the phone, but Copia figured he could try sliding it under the door. The Cardinal headed back to his room, looking forward to listening to the song.

---

Copia tried working the YouTube app on the phone, having to type slowly. He usually was very quick at typing, but the buttons were small and he didn’t really know how to swipe. He made a small triumphant noise once he got the search results and found the song.

He made sure the phone volume wasn’t blasting, afraid of potentially disturbing anyone near. Copia sat on his couch and listened intently. The sound of the piano immediately clicked in his mind. Silas had been playing it as smoothly as it sounded on the official track. Although the lyrics were unfamiliar to Copia, he found the vocals soothing almost, pleasant.

The lyrics were quite interesting. He could see what Silas meant about it not being a religious song but having the tones. It felt more like poetry than a song.

“I guess more like worshipping a person…” He thought.

After the song was finished, he cleared the search history for it and exited the app; turning the phone screen off. Copia wondered what other songs the artist had, but held off from searching on the phone. He would have to ask Silas the next day.

---

The sunlight shone through the colorful stained glass of the building, casting a bright blend of shades. Copia glanced at the light patterns on the floor as he walked by. He turned a corner and his expression lit up as soon as he saw Silas. He paused and tried changing to a more neutral look. Copia had to ‘keep his cool’

Silas noticed him and smiled as he walked over to where he was sweeping.

“Cardinal Copia, it’s nice to see you again.” He held the broom to the side, slightly leaning.

“Yes, you as well. I just came by to say that I listened to the song.”

“Really? What’d you think?” Silas’ voice sounded slightly surprised.

“Oh, I liked it! It was very good. You have good taste.” Copia complimented.

He tried ignoring the light feeling in his chest. “Oh, well, thanks.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely try to look more into the music. Thank you for sharing it.”

Silas gave him a quick nod. He paused as he got another idea.

“I’d be happy to give you another suggestion… if you’d like.”

“Oh, sure.” Copia smiled, ignoring that Terzo wouldn’t be happy about him borrowing the phone again. He had to come up with another plan for that.

Silas pondered for a second. “Would you prefer another song by Hozier or something else?”

“Another song, please.” Not that Copia wasn’t open to something else, but he wanted to stay on track.

“Try ‘It Will Come Back’. It has more of a blues sound to it, but I think you’ll like it.”

“I’ll keep that one in mind. Thank you.”

Silas smiled. “Alright, I shouldn’t keep you from your important Cardinal work. Don’t want to get in trouble.”

“But I approached you first. If anything, it should be me getting in trouble.” He shrugged.

“Well, how about neither of us gets in trouble? We both have to work, unfortunately.” Silas joked.

“Yes, you’re right.” He sighed, wishing he could talk with him more.

“Talk soon?” He gave him a small, hopeful smile.

Copia returned it. “Sure.”

[bisluthq]

Maybe I’m going insane but coming here to say that a person calling him “Joe Alwyn” shows detachment and formality kind of sounds like it’s the same person trying to defend themselves as someone else 💀 The whole point is that they use the full name as a way to pretend they don’t care about Joe when they do, so coming here to explain that using the full name must mean they’re “detached” makes me believe it’s all one person obsessed with Joe even more.

@ Joe anon: I’m sure you’ve sent other anons where you don’t pretend to not care and I’m sure you can be fun and have some good takes sometimes, but please, for your sake and ours, stop keeping up with what swifties say about him

THIS IS ALL WE ARE ASKING FOR. Joe Anon, we don’t dislike you or your takes and we want you to stay and we totally agree that Swifties are nuts lmao!!! We know this!!! Frankly, we (me and core anons) tend to think most fandom spaces are really annoying and that’s why we’ve (because it’s been a group project) built this little haven (again this is purposeful because at one stage it was a much bigger thing and it was unmanageable and unpleasant because *I* hate everybody like Halsey in that one song right so why can’t I go home without somebody and actually that song is just a smackcam of me generally but also metaphorically applies to me and chronic online behavior) we just talk shit and whatnot and offer our takes and politely disagree and move on and live our little boring lives irl and whatnot.

we aren’t saying what the Swifties you’re reading are saying is true, fair, or whatever. We’re just saying you’ve fucked up your algorithm and for your sake and ours PLEASE STOP READING THAT SHIT and also just admit u like the man (it’s okay, like 70% of us here actively do, 20% actively don’t give a fuck but lean to positive, 5% actively don’t give a fuck but lean to negative and there are 5% who hate him but I tend not to publish their takes on him because *I* like to live with clear skin yk like I didn’t just pay for dermaplaning and collagen injections to have some weirdo fuck that up by making me defend some rando dude lol and I assume their takes on other stuff are better so I’m not gonna start blocking willy nilly like I only block when someone is persistently irritating me with bad takes)

[eldritchsurveys]

1219.

Are you afraid of the dark? >> I am not. I don't recall ever having a fear of darkness, in fact. Not even as a child.

Do you watch American Horror Story? >> I watched a few seasons (Murder House, Coven, Asylum, Apocalypse, parts of others) a long time ago. I liked some parts of Coven but found other parts insufferable. I did think Apocalypse was cool, iirc. I don't know, it's hard to like AHS; it feels like something I should enjoy -- lurid, pulpy, smutty, all my favourite adjectives are here -- but then I watch it and I'm just like *sighs heavily*. I don't know, man. It just hits too many wrong notes for me, and those notes are usually very prominent elements of the show (a main-character casting, for example) so I can't just ignore them.

Does your hometown have any urban legends/scary stories? >> I don’t know any urban legends about any place I’ve lived. I’m sure they exist, but I never thought to seek them out.

What’s the scariest nightmare you remember having? .

Are you medicated? >> Self-medicated, sure.

Does your family/friends have a nickname for you? .

Who’s some of your favorite YouTubers? >> I have a pretty sizeable subscription list, but it's mostly media analysers. I'll name three faves: In Praise of Shadows, Jacob Geller, and TheGamingMuse.

Do you have any bad habits? >> According to someone, I'm sure.

What did you get for Christmas? >> Raycon earbuds, a pillow, a weighted blanket, and something else I've forgotten. All things from my wishlist.

Do you have any phobias? >> I do not.

What’s one of your biggest pet peeves? >> Whatever goes on with my Internet where it'll drop for a few seconds and then come back online. It's very annoying when gaming. Are there any scented candles in the room you’re in? >> There is one scented candle in my room. Pancakes or French toast? >> Neither, ideally. But I've had some French toast that I've liked.

Did you have anything for breakfast today? >> The first meal I had was this pork carnitas microwave meal thing that I got from the food pantry. It was Great Value brand so I wasn't expecting much, and yeah it was pretty lame. Still edible. At this point, I'm just glad for the variety.

Are there any apps you’re addicted to? >> I am not addicted to any apps. Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? >> I don’t think I was particularly attached to any of them.

Do you still collect stuffed animals? >> I enjoy plushies now way more than I did as a child, I think. I have like 30 of them.

How do you feel about Spongebob? >> I don’t like Spongebob.

Do you have any nervous habits? >> Maybe by someone's standards. I don't call anything I do a "nervous habit", so I couldn't say.

What drink do you normally order at Starbucks? >> I don’t normally order at Starbucks.

Do you shape/fill in your eyebrows? >> I don't.

Which way do you face in the shower? >> Facing the showerhead, always. I can't face the other direction, it freaks me out for some reason.

What’s your favorite comfort food to eat? >> So many, but I don't want to think about them right now because I can't have them.

What do you wear to bed? >> One of two pairs of pj pants, and a tank top or camisole.

Have you ever stolen/borrowed clothes from an ex? .

What’s the last movie you watched at home? >> Sound of My Voice.

What’s the last movie you watched in theaters? >> Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. I wish I could afford to see Longlegs.

Do you/did you ever have a Neopets account? >> I did not.

When’s the last time you were camping? >> October of... 2015? Something like that. I would die to go camping again. Have you ever had eggs cooked over a campfire? >> I have not.

If you do drink, what’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? >> I'm not sure now. Drinking is an expense I can never afford much anymore.

Are there any songs you’ve been listening to repetitively lately? >> I don't usually do that, no.

What’s your favorite coffee mug look like? >> It's white on the outside with a cute lil cactus design and it's yellow on the inside.

Do you have any pets? >> I personally do not.

Are you passive-aggressive? >> Not as a rule. It is a strategy I've learned from the myriad passive-aggressive people I've known, but I prefer more aggressive approaches personally.

Do you have social anxiety? >> I wouldn't say so. I'm easily triggered in social scenarios, so I can be anxious about the inevitability of that, but I wouldn't say I have social anxiety per se.

Have you ever had fried pickles? >> Sparrow likes them so I might have tried one if they ordered some. I don't recall.

Where’s your favorite place to go out to eat? .

Do you like plaid button-ups? >> They're all right, but I can live without them. There are plenty of other similar garments that I prefer.

Do you have any Valentine’s Day plans? >> I never have plans for that.

Have you/would you ever go bungee jumping? >> I mean, I could be tempted into it.

What’s the last theme park you visited? >> Disney World.

Cereal, granola, or oatmeal? >> I like all three.

[firecrackerhh]

Honestly the fact this fandom is so fucking gatekeepy is so fucking ironic. Like you would think a fandom for a show about redemption would be more willing to give people second chances, but I’ve seen Hazbin Twitter, some of you bitches take no fucking prisoners.

Like rules for thee but not for me. It’s fine if let’s say, a big hazbin account or Viv herself drew controversial/proship shit years ago or whatever, that’s totally fucking acceptable, but if anyone in the fandom draws that shit in the present day everyone acts like they committed fucking homicide.

I wonder, if Viv drew problematic shit like that in the present day, how many fans would defend her? Or would they drop her like a hot iron?

Hell, it seems the big hazbin accounts in general are allowed to be the most rancid toxic cunts in the fucking universe against others they don’t like, but god forbid a smaller account has shit to say about it or the bigger accounts fucking feel the need to quote tweet it opening them up to harassment.

I think if anything, this fandom should be gatekeeping against antis in any form, whether it come from a big account or not. I guess some people just refuse to see the irony.

Like don’t act like you’re somehow better than the anti Viv people when you do the same fucking shit they do. Just because you just so happen to like Viv’s stuff doesn’t make it acceptable to treat other fans like shit over stupid shit.

A show about redemption shouldn’t be having fans so willing to throw others under the bus for the tiniest shit. Hazbin Twitter is so full of shit.

Never mind the fucking ship discourse in general, Jesus Christ, does anyone in this fandom actually have any fun, or do they just want excuses to be fucking bullies towards people they deem acceptable to harass, because honestly some people on Hazbin Twitter make me fucking sick. Hypocrites and bullies the lot of them.

Makes me wonder how many fans were insecure fucking losers in high school and now they wanna act like Regina fucking George over objectively retarded online discourse. For the love of god please touch grass.

Never mind the fact that so many people in this fandom insist on engaging with Viv antis as if arguing with these fucking glue eaters is in any way going to change their mind. Why argue with these people when it’s obvious they have no intention of doing so? Why do people insist on continuing to talk about certain Viv antis, practically fucking stalking them, making them no better than the antis they bitch about? Do they not see the hypocrisy? Do they not care?

Just saying, cataloging every single little thing a Viv anti does is fucking weird dude. Even if they’re talking shit about you, why would you continue to voluntarily keep looking at their shit?

Like I know I’m probably the pot calling the kettle black here, but man, at least when I respond to an antis takes on my blog I leave it at that. I don’t usually feel the need to be like “here’s everything else wrong they’ve ever said!” In some huge ass thread. I don’t make specific blogs calling out any anti in particular or some shit. I don’t make a fucking google doc accusing them of shit that they didn’t do, or at least, I don’t act like the person being a freak towards me is actually capable of doing anything.

Like yes Chai is annoying, but screaming about a fly in your house won’t make it fucking leave. You don’t get rid of a scab by fucking touching it, if you give a child attention when they have a fucking tantrum, they will start to think that’s the only way they can get attention from you and do it more.

And honestly, pardon the hot take here, but constantly fucking accusing someone of being into actual children or animals just cuz they like loli or feral animal nsfw is fucking retarded.

Is it fucking weird? Frankly, yeah, imo. But is any of it real? Are they harming an actual person? Are they grooming children? Are they hurting any actual animals? If you have no actual evidence for either, then I’m sorry, maybe you should just shut the fuck up. It’s fine to be uncomfy about that shit, but accusing people of such things with no evidence beyond drawings honestly sounds fucking offensive to people who’ve suffered actual fucking abuse.

I don’t deny that there are those who use the proship label to hide their awful behavior or whatever, but man, antis are no fucking better. Do you have any idea how many stories I’ve seen of conservatives who bitch about the gays grooming children when they are also the same kinds of people who think child brides are acceptable in the modern era? Who cry about protecting children when they have little issue in abusing them, but they think it’s ok when they do it?

I say conservative and not antis cus as far as I’m concerned there’s no real difference between the two.

If you seriously believe that fiction affects reality that directly, if you really believe the same arguments as the “video games causes violence!” Type of conservatives, I’m just going to assume that something is wrong with you, that you are terribly emotionally immature, that you are just fucking projecting, cuz I’m sorry, but not everyone is as fucking stupid as you.

Frankly I wonder if there are studies on this shit, cognitive dissonance is an astounding phenomenon. It’s something antis are full of.

…damnit I gotta stop going on tangents lmao.

I just…Jesus Christ man, why is everyone in this fandom such an insufferable fucking jackass? Why is this fandom full of bullies? Why is everyone here such an insecure whiny fucking baby? Viv can’t even fucking make fat jokes or people complain, shit, I saw someone bitch about how Lucifer calling sinners psychopaths is fucking insensitive to people with ASPD, like cmon man by that logic you can say Alastor’s existence as a character is fucking offensive, should Alastor not exist then? They changed Alastor’s symbols to something else but some people still think it’s offensive, Mimzy being annoying to the other characters is apparently offensive towards fat people, as if her weight has anything to do with her personality.

I just don’t understand how a fandom based on a show about hell could be so fucking whiny, so goddamn insecure, so fucking sensitive, what the fuck are you people doing here!?!?! Frankly maybe we should be gatekeeping against whiny little fucking babies like you.

Just…fuck am I tired.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only sane person in this fucking fandom. Tho if there are people who still like my posts, I guess I can’t be. Thank fuck for that I suppose.

Lmao I’m sorry for the tangents I’m just incapable of staying on topic, if you think this shit is hard to read, imagine what it’s like in my fucking head at all fucking times.

🔥🧨~Firecracker out~🔥🧨

[mahoushojoe]

hmmmmmm thinking about zia rashid

first of all...holy shit, why is her name zia? there is not a single person in egypt named zia. zia is supposedly a girl born in a rural village in upper egypt. zia is just. not a name she would have. it's not egyptian. as far as i know it's not even middle eastern. like, sometimes people really nitpick stuff when criticizing these things online but this really isn't a nitpick, like. just common sense! common sense and respect for the culture and heritage you're exploiting for your cash cow franchise. the bare minimum. you didn't even have to deeply research Common Girl Names In Upper Egypt. You could have just named her, like, Sara or something, and it would have worked just fine.

like the reason the name is such a big deal is that zia is one of like, two egyptians in a series ABOUT egypt, and yet she's just...not. she doesn't feel egyptian. through her we know nothing about egyptian culture. her name is a Not Like Other Girls name. we don't know whether she's muslim or coptic. she's the Egyptian Rep but she's just Not Egyptian, and the fact that she has the personality of a piece of cardboard doesn't help. it feels like egyptian characters are often purposely distanced from being egyptian in media like this because a) the writers don't want to put in the effort to research and b) it would force them to confront the colonial implications of the media they're writing.

her village is like, comically orientalist- rick could have looked at a map of egypt and known that absolutely nowhere in egypt do they have places named in formal arabic like that. it's called village of the red sand, right? it's given this long mysterious sounding formal arabic name as a result, and just... it's not how egyptian place names works and it's also not how any place name would work, period. a more realistic thing would be if rick had put in the work to at least get an IDEA of the egyptian dialect of arabic -better yet, the UPPER egyptian dialect. Like if the village was called Raml Ahmar it would have been like. Believable. Grounded. And like, in Zia's childhood, supposedly this entire village gets like eaten by sand or something, and... there. Nobody notices. Like if something like that happened in the US it would be a huge deal and everyone would know about it, but since egypt is this like, Desert Of Mystery, things like this just happen and nobody cares I guess.

zia herself isn't even in the books like 60% of the time. like she's either a puppet or like, in a magical coma or something, and when she IS there she's this like Quiet Strong Girl Of Few Words so she doesn't really have a personality beyond being a #girlboss. she is very open to going on dates with a boy and KISSING him at some point even though a girl from upper egypt wouldn't be caught DEAD publically doing those kinds of things, culturally speaking. on that note, zia doesn't know what a mall is. egypt has malls. zia lives in cairo iirc and cairo does, in fact, have several LARGE malls. so all this converges to show zia as this Mysterious Girl From The Third World(tm) and again, as mentioned before, to distance her from her being egyptian.

so like these all seem like nitpicky details, but they all converge to send a message: rick does not care about egyptian culture enough to research it. since the people of modern egypt are poor and brown and all the cool ancient stuff can be conveniently stolen and whitewashed, egypt has no value to him besides being an occasional setting. and it rubs salt in the already gaping colonial wound left by the british and the french and the ottomans and whoever else took a chunk out of us and left us to bleed- which is: exploit egypt for the artifacts and degrade and disrespect the rest.

i'm gonna be honest- i wasn't expecting perfect egyptian rep from a white american man and i wasn't looking for it from him either. but what grates on me is disrespect. what grates on me is laziness. tkc is probably gonna be a lot of kids' introduction to egypt and this is the message it leaves in their head; this is the mindset, that egypt is worthless and only the ancient artifacts are worth taking seriously. and then that devolves into the way tourists and expats arrive here asking to be treated like royalty and treating the locals like shit and paying them pennies. it devolves into museums refusing to give us OUR artifacts that they LOOTED during imperialism. it devolves into the microaggressions i face on the internet every day, where I cannot talk about the serious problems this country faces every day without some annoying american making a king tut reference or whatever. tkc isn't the reason behind all of this, it's far from the only media that has ever done this, it's not even the worst offender. but it feels bad to constantly see the blatant disrespect people have for you and your heritage and it feels bad to constantlyq have it relegated to a joke pop culture reference and it feels bad to be constantly spoken over.

again: im not waiting for representation from riordan or his ilk. i don't need his crumbs. but the disappointment i felt when reading about zia was real, and so was my irritation at her characterization and the way it's supposed to represent me.

tl;dr when you write a book about a colonized and exploited country and people, please afford them a little fucking respect. the bare fucking minimum. this is why i'm not at all excited for the upcoming tkc adaptation and for my own sake i won't be engaging in it, although i dread the upcoming pop culture wave that will happen as a result.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn���t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[storiesforallfandoms]

small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(