#there's a reason for that tag that i will explain later...

[redheadfiretruckgirl]

Why Me?

Melissa receives an upsetting phone call from her ex husband at work and, as always, you are there to catch her fall. Who's going to be able to catch you from falling for her, though?

WC: 4k

Tags: America's Sweetheart @milfjuulpod (shoot me a message if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Or be friends idk.)

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of family member death, sad Mel :(

A/N: Turns out I found my calling and it's to make y'all cry.

The halls of Abbott were completely empty, with only the smell of fresh coffee floating through the air. The doors held incredible potential energy, just waiting to be pushed through by the tiny hands of Philadelphia’s youth. The only signs of life were the usual cast of characters enjoying Action News in the teacher’s lounge.

Although you had been a teacher at Abbott for over a year, you had just joined in on this morning ritual. You never really understood why everyone loved it so much until you showed up to work early one morning to try it out. It was perfect: fresh coffee, silence among your coworkers, and extra fleeting glances at the one and only, Melissa Schemmenti.

You were one of the only people in that school to match Melissa’s wit, and definitely the only one that has ever been able to step to her. Just last week you had to explain to her how it was inappropriate to call a student a “bambino fastidioso” (annoying child) to their face, even if they “didn’t know what it meant.” Even though Melissa was much older than you, you found yourself emitting a sort of nurturing energy around her, like your spirit predated hers by hundreds of years. It wasn’t a ‘holier-than-thou’ thing, as you psychoanalyzed that exact thought on a daily basis to make sure you never came off that way, you just simply really cared for Melissa. Maybe even loved her. You two had been on a few coffee outings, mostly to talk about books you were reading, and even then Ava or Barbara would usually tag along. Sometimes you would venture to one of the lunch spots close to the school one-on-one, and you’d savor every moment, but things never went much further than that. And that was fine. 

Today, upon your arrival, you scanned the room for your redheaded crush. Jacob spotted you from the corner of his eye, “Looking for someone?” He wore a shit-eating grin.

You rolled your eyes, “Where’s Schemmenti?”

“She’s taking a phone call—” Jacob started. Barbara, who sat on the sofa, turned around and shushed you two.

Your eyes found Jacob’s again, “Stop smiling like that. You look stupid,” you spat at him, and put your things down on a nearby chair. You straightened your shirt and headed for the door.

Jacob stopped you, “I don’t think she wants to be interrupted…”

You snap back to him, “I’m going to the bathroom. Is that fucking illegal now?”

He cowered. Barbara whipped around again, “Y/N! We are in an elementary school, and more importantly, in the presence of G. O. D. Chose your words wiser.”

“Gee, I almost forgot.” You rolled your eyes and exited the lounge.

You had no intention of bothering Melissa until you heard an animalistic noise cut through the silence of the hallway. You turned around on your heels quickly and followed it. Another loud shriek came from an opening in the door to Melissa’s classroom. Your eyes widened as you scurried over, leaning flat against the wall next to the door, trying to listen. Your stomach turned as you couldn’t make out her words, only her morphed sobs and screams at whoever she was yelling at.

It was rare for Melissa to exude such emotion in public. Even when her Nonna died last year, none of the others figured it out until months later. For some reason, however, you were the one who Melissa called when she found out. You spent all night in the rocking chair on your porch listening to Melissa grieve, mostly silent, occasionally offering reassurance and other soft words. The whole time, you were perplexed: why you? What about you made Melissa feel comfortable enough to let her guard down?

You shook off the memory just as you heard a final yell from the classroom, “DO NOT FUCKING CALL ME AGAIN!” Just then, Melissa’s cell phone flew through the doorway and flopped to the ground. 

You counted to five to make sure nothing else was coming after it, then you bent down to retrieve the phone. The screen was smashed. Melissa, hadn’t noticed you. Her head rested in her hands. You picked up her phone and crept into her room. “I think you dropped this,” you waved the phone in the air and smiled crookedly. You had an inability to be serious in serious situations, but your jokes showed your sincerity, and Melissa appreciated that. 

She looked up from her hands as you handed her the phone. Her face was mangled with tears, full of humiliation. There was a small twinge of relief in her eyes, realizing it was you. The broken phone stared up at her, “Fuck…” she examined it.

“I know. 8AM is a little early for you to be going all She-Hulk on me, Schemmenti. What’s going on?” You leaned back up against her desk.

“Did you hear any of that?” Child-like embarrassment filled her eyes.

“No. Not much. I just heard more crying than cussing, which is what concerned me.”

“It was Joe,” her eyes glued to the phone.

“Oh, joy,” you exhale sharply and wait for Melissa’s explanation. It takes a few moments.

“Actually, I called him,” you raise an eyebrow at her as she continued, “Do you remember when I told you about my Nonna’s jewelry box?”

“The one she left to you? From the old country?” You tilted your head to the side.

“That’s the one. Well, last night, I was going through it looking for something specific. I couldn’t find it anywhere. Practically tore my house apart to find this one little thing. And then I remembered. It was probably under the secret squeaky floorboard at the old house.”

“The secret squeaky what?” You half-laughed. The words sounded ridiculous coming from Melissa.

“At the house Joe and I shared, in the basement, there was this loose floorboard in the corner where I kept all the important stuff: photos, trinkets, jewelry, you know. Nonna gave me the thing I was looking for when Joe and I got married, so I figured I might’ve accidentally left it under there. I called Joe and asked him to look thinking he wouldn’t know what I was talking about because, you know, secret. But he did. And he said in one of his temper tantrums, he found the floorboard and threw away everything under there. Except the thing. He kept it all these years and just…just gave it away to his most recent slam-piece.” Her voice cracked on those last words.

“Slam-piece? I thought he got remarried?” You questioned.

“Re-married and re-divorced. That man couldn’t keep a woman if he had her in a god damn cage. And now, some random whore is in possession of an heirloom that has been in my family for centuries.” She began sobbing again, her words broken up, “And Joe said that if I really cared about it I wouldn’t have left it.” Her head fell back into her hands. 

Your fists clenched, “So he’s just…not gonna give it back?” You asked though gritted teeth.

Melissa was hysterical, stuttering through her next thoughts, “N-no. He said he couldn’t j-just take it b-back from her because he already g-gave it and it would be rude t-to take it away. But it’s—it’s mine! He just took it…he just…” She couldn’t speak anymore.

You quickly stood and wrapped your arms around her poor, sitting figure. “Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Mel.” You whispered, rubbing her back as she cried into your stomach. You gentleness was simply a facade. As you looked out the window behind her, the world caught fire. Your blood boiled; you could feel it in your ears, behind your eyes, and in each one of your fingertips. So badly did your mouth want to spit poisonous words. Your fists wanted to break the windows. You wanted to wail along with Melissa, but you knew she needed softness. Your fingernails combed through her long, red locks as she took a couple of deep breaths, collecting herself. 

When she pulled away, you kneeled down to her level and grabbed her face, “Melissa Schemmenti, I will not rest until you have that…thing.” You paused, “What is it, anyway? I feel like I should know what I’m going to murder someone over, right?”

She let out an exasperated laugh, “It doesn’t matter, kiddo. There’s no chance he’ll give it back to me. Especially not after that phone call. Just forget about it.”

“Impossible.” You replied, but halfway said to yourself. You were going to figure out how to get back Melissa’s heirloom, whatever it was, if it was the last thing you did. Both of you were snapped out of the moment when the 8:30 bell invaded you ears. In just a few moments, Melissa’s students would parade through the door, tugging on the hem of her jacket, needing her.

You ran your thumbs under Melissa’s eyes, swiping away tears, loose makeup, and heartbreak. It reminded you of leveling the flour off the measuring cup when you baked Melissa a cake for her birthday a few months before. Something you were good at: making everything just right. “You are gonna be okay, amore mio,” she raised an eyebrow at your sloppy Italian, “You know where my classroom is if you need me. How about we eat lunch in there together?”

Melissa nodded. The chatter of small children crescendoed from down the hall. Before you could even think of your next move, your body took over. Without thinking, you leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Melissa’s forehead. You stood and stumbled back immediately, both sets of eyes wide. Preparing for impact, you took two more slow steps backward. Melissa softened, however, exhaling deeply. With her breath went every worry, every tear she cried. She straightened her shoulders, dumbfounded that your intimate gesture, however slight, pulled so much negativity out of her body so aggressively. You quickly turned around and headed for the exit. Melissa stood up to stop you, but her students flooded the doorway waiting to be greeted by their teacher.

During lunch, you kept your promise. You suggested you and Melissa take a walk over to the hoagie shop near the school and she agreed. Melissa would never ever turn down a capicola sandwich and a bag of sour cream and onion chips, especially if they were free. The two of you ate in your classroom. Melissa, though still melancholic, babbled about last week’s football game with her mouth full. You felt guilty for not listening all the way, but the inside of your head was too chaotic. It was for good reason, though, as you were thinking of the thousands of ways you could possibly get Melissa’s item back. You had to internally talk yourself out of busting down the door of the house and demanding it back from the bitch. Getting arrested would probably piss Melissa off more, even if she would respect you for it. 

You also couldn’t get that forehead kiss out of your head. What were you thinking? You weren’t thinking. More importantly, why did Melissa seem to like it? What was Melissa about to say before her students interrupted? You decided against bringing it up, as to not make anything weird. Melissa seemed to be in a good enough mood for the situation, and you didn’t want to ruin it. You bit hard into your Italian sub.

“You okay over there, hon?” Melissa asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” You replied with your mouth full.

“You just tore that bread off your sandwich like it was someone’s head,” she laughed, “And you haven’t been listening for the last five minutes.”

“What? I’ve been listening!” You put down your sandwich, “You said ‘if the fucking god damn Cowboys run one more shitty play, I’m going to drive to Dallas and set the stadium ablaze myself.’”

“Touché.” She took another bite, “You coming?”

You raised an eyebrow. Coming. “Coming where?”

“To Dallas. For arson. I don’t need an accomplice, but I’d like to have someone there to take a picture of me in front of the burning stadium.” You both burst into laughter.

“Well, why me?” You shook if off. 

Melissa looked through your eyes, into your soul. “I don’t know. I just like you.” She snapped back to reality, “And you have fast little feet for when we need to make a run for it. Duh.” 

After walking Melissa back to her classroom, you decided to visit Miss Problem-Solver herself: Janine Teagues. You dropped your kids off at music class and then tiptoed over to her room. After a few knocks, she popped out of her seat and scurried over to you, “Hey, you! What’s up?”

You chose your next words carefully, as to not overexcite the small fireball, “Do you have a couple minutes? I think I need some advice.”

Her eyes widened, “Advice? I’m so good at advice! What do you need advice about? The math lesson plan you’ve been fooling around with? You know, I know you’re not the strongest in math but I really do think you totally got this and if we just—”

“No, no, nothing school related…kinda,” you cut her off, “Lets say one of your friends has an item that is super important to them…that someone else is in possession of…and they won’t give it back. But your friend is the rightful owner. How would you, you know, stick your hand in and try to get it back?”

“I knew Melissa was acting extra hostile today.” She spoke to the floor.

“What? I didn’t say it was Melissa.” You raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t have to,” Janine smirked. 

“Okay, whatever. But this conversation is definitely not happening right now. Capeesh?” She mimed zipping her lips. “Good. Now, Joe took a family heirloom from Melissa and gave it to his new girlfriend, but it’s been in Melissa’s family for like a million years. He is refusing to give it back to her. But I need to get it back. I know I can.”

She tilted her head to the side, “Have you tried asking his girlfriend about it?”

“I guess not,” you began, “But I don’t even know who she is!’

Janine cackled, “Y/N, we’re millennials. We’re the Facebook stalking champions. Let’s figure this out.”

She walked back over to her computer and you followed. You stood behind her as she got onto Facebook. First, she pulled up Melissa’s page. You paused to admire her profile picture: it was when the Eagles won the Super Bowl last year. She stood at Lincoln Financial Field with her arms spread wide as confetti rained around her, and an open mouth smile decorated her face. Janine caught you smiling, “Your dimples are showing,” she joked, and clicked on Melissa’s friends list, where she found Joe. 

The two of them were on good terms until, presumably, this particular morning. Joe’s profile picture was himself holding an oversized beer. Sounds about right. Every time you saw Joe’s picture you never understood what Melissa saw in him. Of course, you never really had any sort of feelings towards men, period. But, Melissa was so beautiful, and Joe was…so average. Ugly even. You weren’t afraid to think it. You recalled seeing their wedding photo once: Melissa looked radiant and Joe looked like he didn’t want to be there. They didn’t look right next to each other; they didn’t fit. You always imagined what you and Melissa looked like walking together. Even today, on your journey to the hoagie shop, you wondered how you two would look next to each other if the hypothetical paparazzi snapped a photo at that moment.

Janine was combing through Joe’s recent posts until she came across a selfie of him and a woman…a redhead. The caption: “My Redheaded Firetruck Girl.”

“Give me a fucking break,” you whispered.

One of Janine’s students stood, “Oooooh Ms. Y/N said a bad word!”

The class erupted into a chorus of ‘Oooooo’s. Janine looked at you disapprovingly. You shrugged a silent ‘sorry’ at her, and motioned for her to keep going. 

She clicked on the poster of the photo: Carol Trinity. “I think we found her,” Janine clapped her hands together and blew on her knuckles. “Look her up on WhitePages and you’ve got yourself a phone call!”

You thanked Janine warmly, and she replied with a wink. “Go get her, tiger.”

Your head snapped back toward her as she fixed her words, “Go get IT. I meant. Go get it. The thing.”

And you did. You called Carol and explained yourself: said you were a close friend of Joe’s ex wife and that he gave her one of Melissa’s important pieces of family history. The phone call was quick. Luckily, Carol was a normal human being. She volunteered to bring it to Abbott by the end of the day herself, and wouldn’t mention it to Joe. A girl’s girl. You thanked her a million and one times and said you would be waiting for her in the main office.

When she arrived, she hugged you tight and harped on what an amazing friend you were. You nodded intently, but your eyes kept traveling to the clock in the corner of the room: 3:54PM. The children had long gotten on the bus, and Melissa was probably packing her things to leave for the day.

As soon as Carol was outside, you blasted through the front office door with a small, sleek black box gripped tightly in your hand. A cacophony of clicks erupted from the heels of your boots as you sprinted down the hallway toward Melissa’s classroom. Your speed was so incredible, you almost missed her doorway, but as you backtracked, you realized the lights were off. “Shit!” You stomped your foot in defeat. You were then alerted by the click of the back doors opening. You whipped around to see a glimpse of bright red hair floating through. “MELISSA!” You called, but she was already outside.

Like a bull to a red scarf, your charged the back doors, knuckles white from gripping the box so hard. Melissa had already crossed the parking lot by the time you made it outside. Her hand brushed her car door when she heard your yelling, “MEL! MEL!”

Her head snapped toward the door. You jumped up and down a few times before sprinting toward her, “I got it, Mel! I got your thing!” You waved the box in the air.

Melissa’s face contorted with disbelief. There was no way you were able to get the heirloom back, and in just a few hours no less. The woman stood frozen as you finally caught up to her and held out the box. “I got it,” you repeated, breathless.

She took the box, almost glowing in the overcast light, and ran her fingers along the raised “Bellissima Gioielleria” logo. “Y/N…how did you…”

“I got a guy,” you smirked, proud of yourself. “It’s me. I’m the guy in this case. And I didn’t even have to brutally maim anyone.” 

The redhead couldn’t stop marveling at the box. You interjected again, “I didn’t open it. I know you were trying to hide what it was. I just wanted to let you know I didn’t open it.”

She looked up at you with tears in her eyes, “I just can’t believe…I can’t believe you did this for me. Why? Why did you go to all the trouble?”

“Schemmenti, I would get in bigger trouble than this if it meant I didn’t have to see you shed another sad tear for the rest of forever.” You placed your hands over hers underneath the box. 

The school doors opened again to reveal Janine, Gregory, and Jacob chattering away on their way to their cars. You and Melissa looked at them, then each other. She hit the unlock button on her keys and said, “Get in. I want to show you something.”

You ran around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and slid in with Melissa mirroring you. Once both the doors were shut, Melissa stared hard at the box in her lap before finally picking it up. She carefully took the lid off to reveal the object: a thin gold chain bracelet with the smallest, little gold star clasp. Melissa’s mouth stretched into a wide smile.

You stared at the dainty jewelry in awe, “It’s…beautiful.”

“You bet your sweet ass it is. Been in the family for over a century. My Nonna gave this to me before I married Joe. Her Nonna gave it to her and she was saving it for me,” Melissa pointed to the clasp, “She always said I was ‘la stella più luminosa’—her brightest star. I lit up the world and worked tirelessly to make it better for others around me…her words, of course. She gave it to me on my wedding day because she wanted to make sure I knew to never let anyone stomp out that light in me,” she mimicked her grandmother, “especially not some uomo disgustoso. You know, old Italian women always seem to know when something isn’t gonna work out. I swear they see the future, all of ‘em.”

She pinched the bracelet in between her fingers and lifted it to eye level, examining. Then, she looked at you. With her other hand, she summoned you, “C’mere.”

You sat back, “What?”

She reached for your arm, “Gimme your wrist.”

“Melissa, what? No,” you snatched your wrist away, but Melissa pulled it back, “Stop, what are you doing?”

“Can you please just hold still?” She unclasped the bracelet and draped it around your left wrist before re-clasping it. Tears filled your eyes immediately.  Romantic, platonic, or other, Melissa just adorned you in one of her most prized possessions. 

You looked up at her, unable to hide the immense strength it took to hold your tears back. All you could muster was, “Why…me?”

Melissa exhaled deeply, “This past year, It seems like whenever I look up, you’re always there. You’re always helping me, guiding me…I feel a comfort around you I can’t describe. I was planning on giving you this anyway, that’s why I was so upset this morning, but witnessing what you did for me today, there’s just no doubt in my mind…it’s you. You are my stella più luminosa, Y/N. And I don’t know what this is, and I don’t know what I want it to be…but I know that I really trust you.”

There was no stopping your jaw from dropping. While you had a little schoolgirl crush on Melissa, she had actual, true love for you. Actual trust in you. “All that to say,” she began again, “Do ya wanna try this out? Can I take you out sometime?”

All of your feelings for Melissa crawled up your throat and fought for space in your mouth, but you couldn’t manage to say any of them. Your body kicked into autopilot again to make up for your lack of words. You touched Melissa’s cheek, leaned in, and pressed your lips to hers. It wasn’t too gentle, but it wasn’t too forceful: it was affirming. You didn’t need to say yes, the kiss already did. When you pulled away, Melissa immediately pulled you into an awkward hug over the center console in the car. “I’ll take that as a yes,” She whispered.

You nodded into her shoulder. Muffled cheers erupted from outside the car. You both look through the front window to see Gregory jumping around and Janine and Jacob crying, holding each other. Melissa squeezed your hand, “Should we give ‘em a show?”

Before she could finish her question, you were kissing her again. 

Why you? Because you deserved Melissa. And she deserved you too.

[marvelrivalsplayer69420]

Frank Castle x autistic! reader

a\n: i prommy im making a version of this for daredevil & gambit! therye in the works, its just that this one for Frank turned out SO LONG lmfao

tags: gender neutral reader, autistic reader, harmful stims so technically self-harm warning.

you’d have to explain a lot of stuff to Frank, but he’ll try his best to understand you. once he knows more, he, like usual with anything that you might struggle with from time to time, is ride or die and willing to accommodate you in any way he can. he’s looking up stuff constantly in the beginning, his mind open to learning how yours works.

he will happily listen to you rant about anything you’re interested in and he finds himself smiling at your passion for it. he also loves the useless information you’ve picked up and always gives you a little praise about it if he knows others might’ve brushed it off or said it was weird to know.

“I love the way your mind works, doll. You always got somethin’ interesting to say that I never heard or thought about.”

he’s not a picky eater, so he’s perfectly content to eat whatever you eat, though he’s trying to get you to have more nutrients in your diet. also, he won’t switch completely on milk. the man loves his cow milk for some reason. he’ll definitely still buy you whatever milk you may drink, but he’s not going to be fully satisfied with just almond or oat milk. but he will indulge in a cup or two of it every so once in a while when you’re not looking just to try and see why you enjoy it.

if you’re like me and you do not eat enough protein but love pasta and rice and bread, Frank is going to be trying so hard to get some meat or vegetables in the meals that you like. even if it means sneaking them in in a way you can’t taste or feel in the texture.

he’s always keeping track of how you like certain foods— you like your potatoes mashed instead of baked? he’s never baking them again when he’s cooking for you, but he will probably bake a potato for himself because he likes them that way.

he loves hearing or seeing you stim when you're happy. nothing cheers him up more than a big smile on your face and your flapping hands. he’s always listening for your vocal stims when you walk around the house so he knows vaguely where you are most of the time.

if you have harmful stims, he's always trying to redirect them. if he can't and you manage to get bruises, cuts, or scratches on yourself, he's going to take care of you. he's putting ointment and bandaids on your cuts and soothing your bruises and scratches with cold packs. and kisses and hugs. but on the inside he's devastated that you'd hurt yourself and is always looking for ways to prevent it from happening again.

if he knows you’ve been stressed recently, he looks over your body as if searching for any signs of negative stimming along with keeping up on taking care of the ones he knows about. regardless of if theres new ones, he spoils you and tries to take care of all of your needs because he just likes to do that for you.

each time he sees a new little mark or scratch or bruise he’s suspicious of it and once you tell him it was from stimming he moves to rub the affected area and give you a little kiss, trying to comfort you and make you feel unashamed. he still takes it very seriously and keeps track of all the marks.

he carries around a little bag of stuff for you when you go out. it's got some nutritious snacks, bandaids, multiple pairs of noise-cancelling earbuds, a bunch of stim toys, and a notepad. more on that later.

he’s stocked up on stim toys and keeps around the ones you like best, carrying them around with him in public and giving you them when he doesn’t want you chewing on your nails or picking at yourself.

“Hey, watch the nails, sweetheart.” He says, moving a hand over to grab yours, squeezing you comfortingly and slowly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

if you get really upset or overstimulated, Frank will try his best to calm you down, asking what’s wrong and listening hard, getting you whatever you need that’ll help you. once you start calming down, he might just grab you and press you into a hug if he knows it relaxes you. one hand on your back pushing you gently against him, his arm wrapped around you as he delivers a nice deep-pressure hug and holds you in it for as long as you want.

speaking of deep-pressure, he will gently hold you down on the bed using his weight and let your head hang off the edge of the bed. he makes sure he doesnt use too much of his strength and checks in every minute or so while you talk his ear off.

the second you tell him what a sensory swing is and show it to him expressing desire for it, he’s determined to give you one. he inspects the whole damn house to find the best place for it and installs it himself with a lot of reinforcement to make damn sure it wont fall no matter your size. he loves watching you sit in it and likes a bit of roughhousing where he pushes it around and catches it. sometimes he’ll take you to the sensory swing to plop you inside of it.

he loves weighted blankets. he doesn’t seem like the type, but a weighted blanket can actually make Frank feel a little more at ease. he comes to really love weighted blankets and makes sure there’s multiple in the house. he also takes care of washing them since he can lift them really easily and he doesnt want you to have to do any heavy lifting.

[charafansmile]

The more I think about dess and my own interpretation of 'her' the more I begin to make him a transman. Similar but not because of the reasons as to why I think ralsei transitioning into a transgirl would be narratively and thematically relevant within the story I think it would provide and interesting layer to Noelles relationship with him and dess's own reasons for running away and subsequent relationship with the mayor and Rudy and asriel. I've got no evidence-none at all to offer you except vibes. Something something transitioning being the ultimate display of personal autonomy within a story that plays with themes of nostalgia and resistance.

[snakes-on-skates]

is this anything

(clarification for the "freedom" thing: they arent helping free others out of the goodness of their hearts, either doing so by proxy when completing their goal or using them to help complete said goal. they are still going about it in a selfish way and i dont mean to imply they actually care about the people and/or creatures being freed.)

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Drawings of the TUA Paranatural AU, mostly of the Sparrows. Alphonso and Sloane are both adults, wearing matching red and black suits. Both of them are spectrals, as indicated by the spectral energy rising off of them.

Marcus about twelve, the same as the majority of the Hargreeves. He is posing dramatically and wearing a polo shirt and khakis.

Fei and Jayme are both about 17, and are both vampires. Fei is wearing platform boots and an all-black outfit with a sheer skirt, and Fei is wearing a baseball tee and UFO pants.

The last image is of Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben. Umbrella Ben is a ghost, and looks about twelve. Sparrow Ben is alive, and a similar age to Fei and Jayme. End ID.]

I have decided what to do with the sparrows!

Alphonso and Sloane both work for the Commission on spirit-wrangling or whatever it is the commission does. They're a bit younger than Five (Sloane is 22, Alphonso is 20), and are roughly equivalent to Agent Day, for anyone familiar with the original comic. Basically, theyre there to snoop.

Marcus has some kind of band kid rivalry with Viktor. I don't know enough about band to determine what it is, but rest assured that they are very passionate about it.

Paranatural has vampires in it! I don't know what the deal is with vampires in paranatural so i wasn't going to include any, but specifically Fei and Jayme as vampires won me over. They probably spend their time trying to kill sparrow Ben.

Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben are both in this au! They're twins :)

[sadlynotthevoid]

Why can't nii give Sakura interesting layers to his character outside " traumatized socially awkward teen" like any interesting new revelation about him? Give him close or special person " relative, friend" anything!

His distant and closed off personality is boring icl

From where? All the people who discriminate him?

If he had actually had people who had accepted him before, why would had him gone to try to gain a sense of self-worth by beating people up in the middle of who knows where?

Sakura's character goes taking shape as he gets to experience things beyond reject. Like how his favorite food is omurice, probably because it was (I suppose) the first meal someone has gave him because they wanted.

But if we're talking about something he is that can't be linked downright to his trauma and the shitty life he had, then that be his kindness. Bro doesn't have a single reason to be kind, he just is. Despite how people took that kindness coming from him.

There's also how bad at technology he is. You can't blame that on his lack of bonds. Suzuri has only just started playing games (finally) and he's already better at it than him. Meanwhile, Sakura has had his phone since before joining Furin and boy can't type a single message. Yeah, you could say he didn't have no one to text to, but has he never used internet? Google or whatever search engine Japanese people use?

To be honest, that only makes me wonder what did he do in his free time. I mean, teenagers without friends tend to spend their free time reading or online. Did he seriously just sleep? Did bro spent all day sleeping or fighting?

Bro, is this how you got so good at parkour? Did you go up in any given chance to avoid people to the point you can compete with cats?

This kinda just made his character funnier to me. Here there's a teenager with no friends nor social life, with an avaible phone, who never thought on using internet to waste time.

I got sidetracked. Anyways, yeah Sakura's trauma is a big part of his character. No, he probably doesn't have any positive bonds linking to anyone of his past. (If he had, then probably something bad would had happened for him to move away of them so...) Well, I don't think he has. And about the last part—

"Distant and closed off" is really just how he starts. He's defensive, yes. But he's terrible at keeping people away and literally can't reject their kindness. Just on the first chapters bro ended up carrying a mountain of food because he couldn't say no. He also finished it all.

There's also that funny scene when he carries granny Sato on his back all the way to Pothos— only for her to jump off his back and land in a superhero pose (we love granny Sato).

He also goes to Anzai's childhood friend (the girl one)— I don't remember if he went to know what was going on with Anzai or he asked because she was crying— and listened silently to her story. That's kinda why he followed Anzai and all that.

And then in the Noroshi arc, after getting his ass beat and finally winning Endo (in whatever sense you prefer), he still helped him to get to the roof to watch the Umemiya vs Chika (almost typed Chiaki— whoops, wrong fandom) fight.

He's not distant (despite his name), he's defensive (hence the tsundere behaviour), mostly when he's embarrased, and silent. He's also really naive ("Oh, you're foreigner?!" and literally every interaction with Suo, lol).

He also seems to be a fast learner when it comes to fighting (he literally uses Tsubaki's way of kicking after the gravel arc, has used one of Choji's move before, and then there's whatever he did in the bridge), seems to have strong morals, and he also hates hats and glasses. Though that last one is most likely related to his trauma (i think it was referenced before, but I could be wrong).

A pity you find him boring, I guess. You don't have to read it if you don't want. You can also read it because of someone else besides the main character.

[holloweiss]

that post which is like sorry that I haven’t been posting much lately I started taking meds and now im not obsessed with bts anymore except it’s me with jjk

[tizzymcwizzy]

so i finally watched the ml movie in a language i understand with good visual and audio quality. its still bad.

i may write an essay.

[limboneto]

You ever get so wrapped up drawing a thing that you only really give it a hard look after you say you're done for the day?

Well uh-

Not the worst I've ever done, but I'm definitely just gonna call this the first draft for Williow's Leafling counterpart 😅😂

The general idea for Willow's Leafling counterpart is they're a lot taller somehow, and they'll be wearing a leaf poncho of sorts to hide the damage done to the suit from just before they became a Leafling (were protecting some castaways from creatures but ended up getting fatally wounded in the process)

I also want them to have a tail, just unsure if the tail should be leafy, fluffy/scruffy, or have a mushroom on the end 🤔

But yeah, rough concept so far!

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Is this a safe space to admit i enjoy cringe media or am i gonna get jumped

[meangirlsbway]

when i started rp admin-ing i didn’t think my friends would threaten me to do shit while interacting w my characters but oh the visual storytelling is so funny

[nogodsinfoxholes]

also it's been a wild ride over 14 years being in denial about being intersex... the shame, the feeling like i don't belong, facing the trauma i've been through and difficult memories and feelings. but. i feel so much better now that i've accepted it. i've felt really welcomed by the intersex community on tumblr. everyone's been so nice. it's still really difficult and hard to think about at times, but it feels really liberating to get over my denial and shout it to the world. i just hope i don't get anxiety and and start treating it like a secret again.

[teh-nos]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[luvuomi]

an untuned 𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓷 ༄.°

though the departed have long since transcended to a realm that is beyond mortal reach, traces of their existence continue to remain left behind like the feathers of a snow-winged goose that has taken flight. aside from his vision—its rekindled permanence forever a stark reminder of the burden that must be carried—amélie also harbors another relic of ███ and unlike the former, its presence harbors much more fond memories from a simpler time.

when she was still a child, on his fifteenth birthday, the boy had urgently roused her from sleep in the dead of night, showing her two tickets for a performance happening in the opera epiclese that very day. hesitant to leave the comforts of her bed, the boy’s enthusiasm—which had been a rare sight in regards to his otherwise stoic demeanor—was difficult to ward off. and so, in silent acquiescence, amélie would accompany ███ to the court of fontaine, lending an ear to his passionate musings, which was an uncommon indulgence for him before arriving at their destination.

the opera house felt larger than life itself back then; regal halls decorated with oil paintings gilded in gold, polished marble floors, and chandeliers that dangled high from the ceiling, sparkling in their opulence. amélie won’t forget how out of place she had felt the entire time, especially once they had taken their seats on those velvet chairs that felt as though they were made to sit royalty. but as the lights dimmed and a ballerina, alongside her violinist took to the stage—accompanied by a fellow orchestra—amélie was no longer just a little girl sitting in the theater.

following that night, ███ had insisted they learn the piece, with the hopes of one day getting to perform it for themselves. he would play the violin and she would play the role of the ballerina. they would practice for countless hours along the shorelines of petrichor playing until either his fingers grew calloused or her legs became too sore to move. in the end.. they never would get to play that piece together and their only audience had ever been the pale moon above.

years later, amélie now returns to that spot on the shorelines, unaccompanied and with a violin in hand—his violin. it has remained untouched for quite some time now, strings taut from a lack of attunement and the hollowness from within more apparent than when he had held it. but here on this familiar stage, where the waves slowly fall in and out of the tide and the moon offers its faint gaze upon her just as it did all those years ago, the lonely ballerina takes hold of the violin once more.

“to you my friend. may the stars of this sky guide you on into the afterlife, and may you find peace in a world much kinder than this one.”

🎨 →⠀﹐⠀╱⠀adorable chibi art was made by the lovely Renkiiqui whom you can find on vgen and twitter! guys please go commission them ( threat /lh ) they are so talented and deserve so much more recognition for their work. trust me when i say you will not be disappointed with the outcome <3

[dragonwysper]

My suitemate is blasting music in the shower through a bass speaker again.

[aku-zone]

One thing that scared me of moving out (besides the insane rent prices and epidemic of shitty landlosers) was always (for some reason) having to buy groceries on my own. I literally don't know why i go grocery shopping on my own all the time already. And besides most grocery stores have delivery options these days. Anyways this is so embarrassing to admit but whatever maybe someone else has this too and feels less alone now