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wasabidottie · 9 months

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Loser Monologue (Nathan Prescott)

A/n: ah! this is my first tumblr post and first time writing a fanfic (If thats what you'd call it?!?) in 6 years. Let me know if i should fix anything ig?!? this fic is inspired by loser monologue by sign crushes motorist

Blackwell Academy stood as a silent witness to the echoes of a past that still haunted Nathan Prescott's thoughts. The corridors whispered of friendships forgotten and fractured. Among those memories, there was one that resonated deeper than the rest, one person who had left an indelible mark on his heart. She had been the light to his darkness, a friend who had seen through the façade he presented to the world. She had held his secrets and his pain, offering understanding and compassion when he needed it most. They had shared countless conversations, a bond that transcended the superficial, and yet, his own demons had driven them apart.

I stare at your pictures for hours on end Dreaming, fantasizing about holding you Feeling my hands on your bare skin Just being with you But I know it'll never happen But I can't stop myself from fantasizing

His heart ached as he remembered the stolen moments he had spent gazing at her photographs, his imagination weaving scenarios that would never come to pass. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the story that had led them to this point. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the campus. Nathan stood in the shadows of his dorm. He traced his fingers over a sketch she had left behind, her talent evident in every stroke. The memory of their laughter, their shared dreams, flooded his senses.

Every word you say sends goosebumps all over my body I've tried for so long not to look at you To not look at pictures of you To cut off all contact with you But I can't stop I can't stop how I feel I don't know if I'll ever stop feeling this way At least not for a long time

His feelings for her had grown beyond friendship, beyond the boundaries of his understanding. The depth of his emotions terrified him, leaving him torn between the fear of rejection and the longing to hold her close. Nathan sat on a bench in the campus garden, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him. His thoughts were a whirlwind of memories, regret, and a love he had never been able to comprehend. He murmured his regrets into the night, the words a whispered plea to a universe that seemed indifferent: "I wish you'd look at me the way I look at you. I wish I could be with you."

Weeks turned into months, and Nathan's determination to mend his broken pieces grew stronger. He sought therapy, confronted his fears, and wrestled with the tangle of emotions within him. But the memories of her continued to haunt him, her absence a void he could never quite fill. He stood before a shoebox hidden under his bed, its contents a collection of photographs that chronicled their time together. He had tried to get rid of them, to erase the reminders of what he had lost, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. Each photo was a piece of her he could hold onto, a tether to a time when he had felt normal, when he had felt alive.

I just want to feel the warmth of your body next to mine To see your smile I want to play with your hair See it shine under the sun as it hits you just right I want to watch the sun sink behind the heavens with you Talk, laugh, make out Anything I just want anything from you

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be transported back to those moments when her laughter had been his lifeline, her presence a balm to his scars. He found himself drawn to the glow of the school's art gallery. A soft hum of voices and the dim light spilled from within. Curiosity tugged at him, urging him to step inside.

As he entered the gallery, his eyes widened in surprise. The walls were adorned with artwork, some of it hers. Vibrant paintings that captured a kaleidoscope of emotions and stories littered the wall. A harsh contrast to the monochrome pieces Nathan gravitated to. Each canvas seemed to hold a piece of her heart, a glimpse into her world that he had missed in their time apart.

And there, in the center of the gallery, she stood, her back turned to him as she spoke to a group of art enthusiasts. The sight of her was a reminder of the bond they had shared and the emotions he had suppressed for far too long.

He moved closer, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the grace with which she moved, the passion that radiated from her very being. It was as if the gallery held not just her art, but her essence, her spirit.

Nathan's gaze shifted to a particular painting—a canvas that depicted a couple beneath a starlit sky, their silhouettes locked in a tender embrace. It was a scene that felt achingly familiar, as if it echoed the unspoken longing he had carried for her all these years.

The words he had held back, the feelings he had concealed, surged to the surface. The urge to reach out, to finally voice his emotions, grew irresistible. He took a hesitant step forward, his voice quivering as he called her name

#nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #idk how to tag #song #this song makes me sob #rachel amber #max caulfield #nathan prescott #nathan prescott x oc #This took a bit too long #im not 100 on how to write for nathan #Hes not angsty enough #friends to lovers #if you squint #warren graham #life is strange x reader

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egophiliac · 2 days

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innocently logging in to look at the Twst schedule for May like

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 8 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 8 spoilers #tsumsted wonderland #i-is that enough spoiler tags #anyway twst just absolutely obliterating me with the schedule again #i saw the story completion campaign ended in june and was like 'oh okay that'll be when we get the next part' NOPE HA HA #oh my god rook. oh my god savana rook is real.#w...why is this a story card. hey twst wHY IS THIS A STORY CARD --#is rook dreaming of still being a rowdy boy or #and why is he...(squints) why is he in a pomefiore bedroom #never mind i'm actually terrified of this card now #god. the STETSON. i'm crying.#he really is just applejack huh #also vil i don't know what your problem was this man's mane is LUSCIOUS #and what's this? it's twst following up that first punch with the right hook of EVEN MORE of the best and silliest event #malleus is going to be in the middle of an angsty flashback while dangling us over a pit of spikes or something #and then we're going to cut directly to him having a charming little tea party with a small plush version of himself #oh twst your sense of pacing remains exquisitely incomprehensible #(no i love this though)

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doctorsiren · 3 months

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paint it over

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sunderwight · 4 months

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Liushen AU where SY transmigrates into SJ's older brother, and subsequently nopes them right out of the slavery backstory by using his general knowledge of the story and actually being an adult in a kid's body to just leave (basically) with SJ and YQ.

SY carts them both up to Cang Qiong for the next sect trials. It's actually not all that hard, the trickiest part is getting enough to eat and finding safe places to sleep between leaving the slavers and taking the trials (SY manages just barely, with considerable help from his new little brothers.) Nobody bothers to go after them because it's before Qiu Jianluo and this style of human traffickers mostly operate by virtue of their merchandise having nowhere else to go. Chasing down runaways is an expense not worth indulging, given that most of them either come straight back or die of exposure.

Anyway, they take the trials, and as expected YQY gets chosen to become a personal disciple for the sect leader, and SJ gets chosen by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, but also as (kind of) expected (by SY alone) nobody wants SY. He's older the Yue Qi, so too old, and unlike YQ and SJ his cultivation potential isn't striking enough to make any exceptions for him.

SY, however, can't leave it at that. He's spent more than five minutes with the street kid codependency gang, so he's gotten attached to both of them. And he knows what will happen if they're left to their own devices and The Plot proceeds accordingly. (Also, they keep threatening to not stay at the sect if SY doesn't stay too, for some reason.) So with a heavy heart and internal candle lit for himself, SY heads to Bai Zhan Peak. Which is the only peak that accepts disciples by way of them turning up and refusing to leave.

SY's not much of a fighter. He actually really hates the atmosphere on BZP, he's not bad at physical cultivation (his health's pretty good in this life, ironic considering how much worse his situation was) but the random ambushes and survival-of-the-fittest stuff is just not his brand. But that's okay, because it turns out that BZP actually DESPERATELY needs disciples on the actual peak who are interested in things other than fighting and cultivating their own strength. Stuff like, filling out requisition requests for An Ding every time things break, apologizing to An Ding every time things break again, organizing schedules, browbeating senior disciples into actually teaching, educating disciples on virtually any artistic or social skill, hosting lectures on how to beat vicious beasts without just overpowering them, and etc.

Okay so some of this stuff isn't and has never actually been on Bai Zhan's curriculum but Shen Yuan is going to make this place tolerable. And stop these children from needlessly getting acid burns or lyme disease or scurvy or whatever. He keeps internally chewing out Airplane for designing a sect system that means there are a lot of largely unsupervised 12-year-olds running around the wilderness on a mountain picking fights all the time. (When he actually meets Shang Qinghua and figures him out he switches to doing it in person, of course, in twice-monthly bitching sessions that look a lot like budding friendship.)

Of course one of the worst offenders is the Liu kid, who SY would suspect was actually raised by wolves if he didn't know for a fact that Liu Qingge has a younger sister, and also the kinds of nice clothing and letters from home that strongly imply not only does he have a family, but that the family is pretty well-off. Liu Qingge is at first deeply offended by SY being a BZP disciple. He rarely fights anyone, and uses tricks and evasion tactics whenever a fight can't be avoided. And he does other annoying stuff, like pestering him about meals and baths and lecturing him on identifying dangerous plants and the early signs of qi deviation. This is not what their peak is about! He should get with the program already! Just fight stuff until you're too tired to keep fighting stuff!

Also SY's younger brother, SJ, is pure evil (at least according to baby Liu Qingge) even though his other younger brother (?) is cool and nice.

Anyway, Liu Qingge stops complaining about SY after their first mission together, where Liu Qingge doesn't lose a fight but does get into a kind of pyrrhic victory situation where he's really badly hurt, and it's SY who helps him win (correctly identifying the monster and then pointing out its weakness) and takes care of him afterwards and gets him safely back to Cang Qiong. SY expresses surprise at LQG actually being polite to him, and LQG realizes that he's been a colossal ass if people think he wouldn't be grateful to someone who saved his life, so the usual Liushen dynamic proceeds from there. Liu Qingge starts bringing SY fans he leaves behind and hunts down animals that are supposed to be useful for bolstering weak cultivation, SY invites LQG to tea and keeps the critters as pets, etc etc.

SY doesn't get the Head Disciple position, because that's only acquired via beating the current peak lord in combat and lol no. Also he's not interested in stealing it from Liu Qingge, to whom it rightfully belongs (in his mind). But that's fine, because Liu Qingge takes the position when the next generation ascends and then he lets SY exclusively handle all the peak duties SY actually likes (mainly teaching). It's perfect -- Liu Qingge gets to focus on his War God antics and occasional administration/meetings without having to deal with students his has no patience for, but the disciples of BZP don't get neglected because SY is actually teaching and organizing classes and student care. BZP hasn't enjoyed a golden age like this since it was founded!

Things are pretty good overall, but Shen Yuan knows that it's only a matter of time before The Plot shows up, and so he can't rest completely easily.

Meanwhile, the will-they-or-won't-they bets on Liushen have been going strong for a while now. The thing is, most of their martial siblings are convinced that these two are already "together", and just being circumspect about it. Those who know SY well (like SJ, YQY, and SQH) know better but think that SY's romantic obtuseness is to blame, whereas those who know LQG well (LMY, WQW, and MQF) are pretty sure that it's actually LQG's obtuseness that's the problem. Of course it's actually both of them, so efforts to "fix" matters by getting through one of their thick skulls inevitably run afoul of the other's.

An additional complication is of course: SJ doesn't like LQG (mutual), and now that he's the leader of his own peak, he wants to poach SY to come and live there. Not only so he can have one of the 2 people he trusts actually close at hand, but also because SJ also hates actually teaching the atrocious little brats on his peak, and would like to have SY come and do it for him. YQY is still a total pushover for him too, and is also now the sect leader, so YQY agrees that SY can change peaks if SY and LQG both agree to it.

Liu Qingge, of course, is a no, but he's a variable "no". He's not going to hold Shen Yuan against his will or anything.

As for Shen Yuan, it's... complicated. He doesn't really like BZP, but it's gotten a lot better than it was at the start. These days he's actually pretty proud of his accomplishments, and it's more comfortable, but it's still a rough and rowdy place with fewer creature comforts, libraries, or other appealing points than QJP. Also, if he goes to Qing Jing to teach, he can personally ensure that SJ doesn't go around persecuting any of his students!

But... SJ never lived with the Qiu family in this AU, and even though SY's not totally clear on what the PIDW backstory for SJ was, he knows he's a better guy now than the scum villain in the book was. He has a reputation for making cutting remarks, not for being an abusive snake or a lecher. SY's honestly less worried about him doing anything bad at all, and there are other people on QJP who can teach. It might even be good for SJ to promote more people to fill out a social circle he can rely on! That guy needs more friends, seriously.

And QJP really doesn't need more layabout literary intellectual types who get into pointless arguments, which is all SY would be if he went there. Just yet another nerdy scholar for the rich kids with middling cultivation that the peak favors to ignore. At least on BZP he's filling a gap.

SY is clearly torn, and the fact that SY's considering it has LQG upset, and LQG doesn't handle being upset very well, so of course they have an argument about it. SY storms off to cool his head and LQG is like, this is it, he's gone to Qing Jing Peak, I've drive him off by being too aggressive and he's probably remembering all those times I told him he didn't belong here and oh no what have I done maybe if I build him a heated bath and get him books he will come back???

Turns out that SY just went to An Ding to vent at SQH while SQH was like "I think you would have fewer problems if you and Liu Qingge just got married and my disciples could call you Shigu to your face instead of behind your back" and SY threw melon seeds at him and sulked on his fainting couch (which is always cold for some reason...)

Thus begins the Liushen Divorce Arc where SY tries to be anywhere but BZP or QJP, Liu Qingge tries to figure out what thing he can punch to fix this not-punchable problem, SJ is like "I don't see what the big deal is they should break up Liu Qingge is awful and I want my brother to teach my classes for me" like the spoiled youngest sibling he's finally allowed to be, YQY is trying to moderate this Hades vs Demeter situation and is all "well maybe SY could spend half the year on QJP and half on BZP?", and Liu Mingyan is going "I know my brother if this doesn't work out he is going to die single and pining like an idiot" and so keeps conscripting other disciples to y'know, lock SY and LQG into storage closets together (ineffective: LQG can punch through walls) or at least get them in the same room (underestimating SY's willingness to yeet himself out of windows to avoid awkward social interactions.)

By the time Luo Binghe joins the sect (as a Qiong Ding disciple), the drama is in full swing and is the main topic of gossip across most of the peaks.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #liushen #long post #sy doesn't even realize lbh has already arrived until someone mentions 'luo-shidi' on qiong ding in passing #he nearly has a heart attack #why isn't this kid on qing jing peak?!#(why would he be on QJP now though? SJ's not gonna want him not even to pathologically torment and he's promising enough for QDP)#SY: well I guess... that settles that? not enough reason to move to QJP if luo binghe isn't even there. everything can stop being weird now #LQG: then we shall have a spring wedding #I like to think the changes to the world are so substantial that the setting just shifts to a less angsty action/adventure story #now the cang qiong crowd are the colorful side characters instead of complicit in lbh's many torments

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turtleblogatlast · 2 months

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Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rise leo #plot twist he COULD be admitting angsty stuff but he’s pushing the less oof truths forward instead on purpose #raph: hey leo what do you want for dinner #leo: *about to bare his soul on all his internal torment but pivots* I’m afraid of snakes #(no but fr Leo’s stripes being technically more pink instead of red is cute ngl)#(a very reddish pink to the point that in certain lighting it looks red but at the base they’re p pink)#(i also am very fond of the idea that Leo doesn’t just have questionable taste in fashion he also just loves Raph a lot and looks up to him)#but yeah I think that something like this would be 99% Leo admitting to unimportant things or admitting to how much he values everyone #like they all KNOW Leo loves them and he’s talked them up enough for them to know but it’s different when he’s like #‘I just wanna read my comics with you guys around - it’s my favorite place to be’#or again just random bs that doesn’t REALLY have a lot of weight like #‘I like using my portals to prank random people around the world’#‘I’m worried about being a bad influence on hueso jr’#‘sometimes I kinda wanna see hypno’s plans succeed’#‘it’s been way too long since I found this out and honestly it’s embarrassing but I actually don’t have a di-‘#SORRY COULDNT HELP MYSELF #(<-but did u know that that pink rather than red observation actually ties into this headcanon as well if u know about red eared sliders)

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skykid-nadir · 1 month

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You are three years old. Your mother tells you a story about a child who fell from the Sky. You don't understand it yet, but that child was you.

You are six years old. Your parents agreed to take you into town, but only if you stay close to them. You ignore them, wander off and find a group of other kids. Playing with them is the most fun you've ever had. But when your parents find you later, you will never forget the scolding they give.

You are nine years old. The older kids play terrible pranks on you, stealing your mask or trying to snatch away the crystal at your heart. They don't say it to your face, but you know they think you're a freak.

You are twelve years old. The Elder arrives to take you away. He says you're special but you don't believe him. You just want to stay with your parents.

You are fifteen. The Elders argue about your future. Daleth reminds them that you're only a child. Teth counters that no one knows what you are. The others say nothing, but you know they agree with her.

You are eighteen. Your body hasn't aged in years. You hear murmurs in the crowd as you take your place on your throne. The Realm of Eden needs a new Elder, and the others finally agreed that it should be you.

You are twenty one. The pressure is too much. You never wanted this. You never wanted Eden. You feel like you'll never live up to their expectations of you. But you learned long ago to keep your mouth shut about that. You saw what happened to Daleth when he dared suggest that you choose your own path.

You are twenty four. You've finally done it. You've finally found a way to make them proud. If they knew that you could harness the power of Darkstone... Surely that will impress them, right? Maybe you'll finally be enough.

You are twenty five. You were wrong. They hated it. They feared it. You should have known. You will never be enough. How far do you have to go to make them respect you? At night you dream of your family, but you can no longer remember their faces.

Who are you? What are you? What do you have to do to prove yourself? Your inventions have done horrible things. But how can you turn back now? You're so close to changing the world. No matter the lengths, you will make them see that you are good enough.

#not me getting angsty about Alef again #he was just a child his story is so tragic #I can't imagine the pressure he was under #in trying to make him into something great the other elders pushed him too far #deep down #he's still just a child who wants nothing more than to be enough #sky cotl #sky children of the light #sky: cotl #sky: children of the light #flash fiction #sky cotl resh #sky cotl alef #sky cotl lore

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welcometogrouchland · 1 year

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Also I am. Constantly forgetting how fucking funny Hunter is. We never give him enough credit for how funny he is because his life is so fucked up but I swear 90% of his lines are just bit after bit after bit. He's not even trying either. Anytime he actively tries to make a joke it falls flat but if you just put him in a Scenario he'll find a way to be so over invested and yet out of touch/at odds with whatever's going on. He's so autistic

#the owl house #ramblings of a lunatic #i forget hunters character voice A Lot #plus the most recent ep is always whats most clear in my mind (so rn that's ftf) and he's obvs much more angsty in that one #idk ppl credit thanks to them as the first time Hunter was like happy and silly #but i highkey think asias was the prelude to that. like i think the events of that day are so vivid and special to hunter #precisely bc it's the first time he's interacted with witches his age in a non hostile or strained way #it's the first time on screen we see him have fun doing something that isn't deranged #yeah whatever souls are made of his and willows are the same. but more importantly her gus and the rest make him laugh #that's important for the guy canonically having the worst day of his life Every Day #part of why huntlow appealed to me initially was that it was hunters first taste of like. normal teenagedom #not the romance with willow (cause that's barely an undercurrent in asias) but flyer derby and hexside in general #and that's part of why willow and later gus r like. his safe space #and thus why it's so significant that he goes out of his way to protect (keep them safe) too #anyway enough hunter thoughts for tonight. i love him but this isn't my Brand

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willowser · 5 months

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now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to.

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress.

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought.

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek.

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon.

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf #and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ??#SO I REWROTE IT LOL #i hope this is okay !! 🥺#i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only #that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow #whenever he touches you #🥺#tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!!#literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺#✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

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had a human au thought of Barnaby and Wally. idk doing their taxes or going through bills together since they share a house & Barnaby going "hey we could get married for tax benefits and health insurance. wait no what if i want to marry Howdy someday? it's illegal to be married to two people." Wally goes "we could get divorced" and Barnaby gets legitimately sad like:

#wally: uhhhhhh. um. i think i left the oven running #barnaby: YOU DONT BAKE- GET BACK HERE AND ANSWER THE QUESTION #in human au barnaby's ideal world he can marry both his platonic life-partner And the love of his life #but the american government says No smh #my heart goes out to polyams everywhere #fuckkkkk getting unwell about this aus barnaby and wally again everyone #like i have so many different little plot lines and mini aus for the au #like what if there was a covid arc?#in my mind lockdown happens while wally is Elsewhere #so he cant exactly get back home! and obviously no one is happy about that but wally is dealing well enough #but barnaby's like 🥺 my lil buddys out there all on his own and im alone here so im gonna call him every day #(also i like to think that howdy spends lockdown w/ barn or vice-versa but this aint about that)#wally: vibing #barnaby: a bit of a wreck #absolutely unprompted #wh modern human au #but then also Angsty Thoughts of yo when they all get old uhhh who dies first #and In My Mind! they both die within a few days of each other #maybe barnaby goes first and wally just. pines away. broken heart syndrome babey!#also having soft thoughts of them when they first became friends #barnaby taking him to the farm and introducing him to the animals <3 #wally trying to help out with morning chores after a sleepover <3 #ms. beagle absolutely adoring wally and always having his favorite snacks In Stock for whenever he comes by <3 #that one time barnaby broke somebody's jaw for going a little too far w/ insulting wally & almost got expelled <3 #mannn they're so! honestly goals #oh and later on when they have their own place wally having his own lil art studio #and barnaby continuing to be his go-to muse <3 #wally probably has so much fuckign art of barnaby lmao #OHHHHH AND THE CAR CRASH ARCCCCC DONT EVEN GET ME FUCKIGN STARTED #EMOTIONS CENTRAL THAT IS

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imposterogers · 1 year

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I fully believe that not only is shawn spencer bisexual but he’s also in love w gus but like. it’s not an angsty ‘I need to ruin this friendship before my feelings ruin it’. it’s just a personality trait. bc him & gus are already SO close. codependently close. they can hardly go a day without seeing each other, are practically psychic in the way they communicate, spend major holidays together. they’ve both had significant and fulfilling romantic relationships & have settled down. but does that change the fact that shawn would kiss gus at the drop of a hat? not at all

#shawngus #psych #Shawn spencer #it IS angsty bc they’re a story of missed chances #in the sense that there was never a right time for Them #bc shawn never thought he was good enough for gus #in the highschool reunion ep where they’re mistaken for a couple shawn says ‘gus would never date me’ instead of denying romantic undertones #so when they were both single it was just never something shawn approached and all too fast it was too late

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 1 year

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*sighs* precious baby version of night and his mentally drained brother/dad got me dropping everything for a quick doodle<333

au by @dreemurr-skelememer

#my art #utmv #resetmare #dream sans #nightmare sans #nightmare #dream #ughhh idk i don't like how any of these came out >:'D #i mean they're a lil rushed i guess- but eh it's good enough to post hhh #i wanted to add so many more scenes but goshh i need to keep up with my studies at this point before i fall behind HGFVG #sketching the first lil drawing made me think of myself as a kid nagging my parents with so many weirdly specific questions xD #that or night is probably talking dream's nonexistent ears off about a story he read or his crazy day playing with the animals outside-#man what an adorable and sweet kiddo! nothing is wrong with him or his imaginary monster friend :) <333 #(but seriously tho..dream is so sleep deprived he'd just chalk up seeing tentacles move around the house as hallucinations hh :'Dc)#augh i just love this concept (dadmare/dadream in general) so muchh like YESSS gimme more of the anxious angsty brother stories<3333

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cthulhusstepmom · 6 months

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"Gid we need to talk."

Well fuck.

It's far too early for a Kremy talk.

"You already spell the door shut?"

"You know I did."

With a long-suffering grumble Gideon settles further into the chair, body sore and muscles relaxed in that perfect, intoxicating, pleasure-drenched way that inevitably chases a night of questionable decisions. The mug of strong black coffee on the table in front of him steams, almost too hot even for him.

He can feel a pair of piercing yellow eyes trailing over his neck and shoulders, can feel the quiet disapproval like a stinging rash.

"She got you good hmm?"

"If she didn't her friend certainly did." Gideon chuckles, suppresses the urge to adjust the undershirt he'd slipped on as Brittany and... Courtney? Christie? (Something with a C he's about 60% sure) Had taken their leave late last night(probably early this morning but fuck if he's gonna be worried about the time). Every rouged bite and bruise flames under the fabric in a way that feels far too much like shame.

The barely there feeling of cool fingertips on his shoulder burns like a cold brand, superseding any temporary claim laid underneath in an instant.

"Any coffee left in the pot?" It's not a question, not really; even if Gideon is loathe to move away from that grounding touch he knows this is his part in the song and dance(and dancing always had been more his thing). Falling into the practiced motion he heaves himself up onto his feet to retrieve Kremy's cup from the small cupboard in the wagon, hands whipping together (the equivalent of) an americano with a splash of cream and no sugar.

In the time it takes for the cup to come together Kremy has removed his suit jacket, folded it carefully and set it on top of the rumpled covers of Gideon's cot, before placing his hat atop it and settling into the chair facing the door. Gid gingerly sets the cup on its saucer before placing it in front of Kremy and falling back into his own chair with a grunt. The other man makes a pleased sound as he takes a sip and a pleasant flame of emotion licks at the back of Gideon's brain.

"New technique?" A pair of clever yellow eyes peer over the rim of the cup.

"Working out a few bugs."

"Mmm."

Silence falls in the cozy interior and Gideon can almost pretend those lovely aches and marks didn't come from Brianna or Carrie at all, can indulge in the effortless, lasting clarity he only finds in moments like these.

"What's that bring the total to this week?"

"What total?" Playing dumb with Kremy is playing a loser's hand and he knows it. All he gets for his trouble is the unimpressed arch of a single brow. "Well I guess it depends if you're asking about encounters or headcount." He tries with a lascivious chuckle.

"Every night this week Gid! Every single night you've been tied up with some hussy or another and every day you've been waiting to do it again! You almost set the big top on fire yesterday you were so goddamn distracted!" Heat floods the tips of his ears at the memory. "I want an explanation Gid and I want one now. What the hell is going on with you?"

Now would be the time to say it, to come clean. To just tell Kremy, his boss, his friend, about the click clacking of train wheels over tracks that haunts his brain. How sometimes he can't hear his own thoughts under the bellowing whistle of a long gone steam engine. How his skin doesn't feel like it belongs to him, his body a machine for someone else's use. How good it fucking feels to find parts of himself in the core of somebody else, working for his own pleasure and dragging them along with him right up to the brink. How those primal sounds of skin on skin solidify that he's not just another cog in an infernal machine, forever toiling until he's sucked dry and spit out. How even then it's not always enough, that it's these quiet moments, devising more and more intricate ways to get the perfect cup of coffee that he doesn't even enjoy, sitting at his little table so close their legs have to touch, riding at the head of the caravan directing the horses while Kremy ticks boxes and traces routes on maps at his side, these small quiet moments that quiet his brain more than a month of one night stands and empty touches ever could.

"You know I'm fine with your proclivities, Gods knows you've earned it." A small part of his brain purrs. "But something's obviously bothering you and that's not something I can stand." And just like that he's pierced on a golden stake, feeling those eyes slice him into delicate layers and pick through them at their own leisure.

But Kremy doesn't rush him, never has, just sits serenely and allows him to fiddle with his words, fine tuning his meaning to the best of his abilities.

Now would be the time to say it.

"Remember when you offered me my own wagon?"

A look of mild surprise crosses a reptilian face. "Vaguely."

Gideon nods, letting the word hang on the air, intermingling with the smell of over engineered coffee.

Finally:

" Would you be open to rooming together again?"

The frown that crosses Kremy's features pierces between all the whirring mechanical bits of himself and straight into the fragile meat of his beating heart.

"Well Gid it's good of you to offer but you know I don't swing that way. You're more than welcome to keep the ladies to yourself, can have my share too while you're at it."

It takes a minute to grasp what Kremy's insinuating.

"No man! Not like that, I wouldn't do that to you, not rooming together at least. I'd just invite you here..."He pauses, grasping for the right words. "When it gets quiet... when I'm alone... it can be too... loud... in my head, s' fucked up, down, and sideways..." He trails off, looking up and searching Kremy's gaze for answers, he always has the answers.

His friend nods in understanding.

"Think I can arrange that, we'll need to rearrange the furniture and we can always use another Chow wagon." he begins muttering, turning things over in his head, organizing his thoughts like a hand of cards.

"You know I'm not too picky, I can sleep on the floor."

Kremy waves a hand absent mindedly. "There's plenty of room for two in the bed-" cutting himself off with a painful choking sound, Gideon can see a thread of panic strumming through Kremy's posture. "Of course that's a hell of a presumption, huddling for warmth is a whole different thing I shouldn't have said any-"

"So long as I get a little desk space to tinker and warm breakfast I'm satisfied." Gid shrugs. He misses sharing sleeping arrangements with Kremy, the wagons were a nice upgrade, more spacious and stable than tents and bedrolls, but they also took the few times he was able to hold close the smaller form of his partner. The privilege of feeling the cold-stiffness bleed out of his limbs and turn into languid sleep. Like cuddling the cold side of a pillow all night, a pillow that will occasionally rumble like a thunderstorm and vibrate his whole chest.

"I won't have any of your Jezebels in my bed, you want to let off that steam, fine, but not in our wagon."

Our.

"Seems reasonable enough." He smirks.

"You have yourself a deal Gid."

#kremy is absolutely a good coffee bitch #and gideon is an anything for my husband bastard #this was meant to be way more angsty but then i just felt that they've had enough trauma for a while #everyone notices that kremy(notoriously NOT a morning person) is much more pleasant in the mornings #(he's waking up all nice and warm so he doesnt need to wait for the sun to do the job)#coalecroux #kremy lecroux #gideon coal #once upon a witchlight #ouaw #legends of avantris #gideon and kremy at the front of the caravan bickering like a married couple

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insightfulllama · 1 year

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Dp X dc prompt!

In this prompt, liminals/ghosts need to consume fresh ectoplasm to stay healthy and not starve. In addition, the headcanons “only those exposed to ectoplasm can see ghosts as they really are”, and “how people see ghosts is based a lot on their personal perceptions of reality.” have been mushed together. Like, someone un-exposed to ectoplasm knows that SOMETHING is there and it’s scary, but they haven’t been exposed to enough ectoplasm to actually comprehend what it is, so their mind just fills in the empty space with whatever their scared of + what makes sense to them for the context.

So Gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm and that's enough to keep Jason from starving completely, but nowhere near enough to be healthy. The inherent ectoplasm he has is basically rotten cause Lazarus pit be like that, so although he is alive and well in human terms, from a ghostly perspective he is extremely emaciated and sickly. Jason has felt varying degrees of empty and BAD since he came back, but there’s not exactly a handbook for this sort of thing, so Jason just accepts feeling terrible and being quick to anger as his new reality.

Cue the bat family calling him up and asking him to check out some weird reports they've been getting. Apparently people have been seeing stuff- a shadowy floating baby, a rotting animal corpse walking around, a ball of energy floating through a wall, etc. Which would be strange enough, but since the sightings started popping up at the same time, Bat's is theorizing that all the sightings are being caused by one entity. And a lot of the reports are in Jason's stomping grounds, so they want him to take a look.

He obliges (not because he wants to help his family, it's JUST because it sounds interesting, ok?) and quickly finds the whatever it is. And he kind of wants to laugh because THIS is what everyone was freaking out about? The thing looks like a gumbrop. Granted it was the size of a cat and glowing a suspiciously Lazarus green, but STILL, what on earth was everyone so scared of?

Regardless, it was in his territory and needed to go. It moved surprisingly fast once it spotted him, and it was taking a lot for Jason not to lose sight of it. Oracle offers to send someone to help and even Jason is surprised at how angrily he says no. But maybe he shouldn't be- he'd seen it first, it was HIS to catch. He discarded his helmet after her next question- she was distracting and the little thing was now periodically turning around to chirp mischievously at him and he was going to GET it, darn it.

He tells himself that the frantic urge to catch the creature was just mission excitement. The wild, clawing NEED to have it was just enthusiasm. The aching pull in his stomach wasn't anything out of the ordinary, his mouth was watering because it had been dry, NO other reason.

He was fine. This was fine, nothing was wrong, he just REALLY needed this thing.

He loses sight of it for a second, but it's fine because he knows the direction it's going.

He turns the corner and pulls up sharply. The gumdrop thing has been caught, but not by him. There's a figure holding its limp form, staring at him with wide eyes, obviously in the middle of eating it.

Jason distantly thinks he should be confused or horrified, but all he can feel is devastation. It was supposed to be HIS- this was HIS territory, HIS place, he should be the one to get it. But he hadn't been fast enough and now he wasn't going to get ANYTHING-

Danny, meanwhile, feels like the biggest jerk in the world. He'd caught the fat blob ghost more out of habit than hunger, since it had practically run into him zipping around the corner. But this other liminal had been in the middle of hunting it and was now looking at him with abject betrayal.

Danny's feelings of guilt got worse as he crept a bit closer and realized that the other liminal was sick. They're ectoplasm felt tainted, contaminated in a way that spoke of long term illness. Danny's brain was going a mile a minute, connecting the pieces. This liminal felt fairly strong so he probably had his own territory, and since he was sick he probably couldn't go far to hunt. Which meant that in essence, Danny had waltzed into the house of a starving, bedridden liminal and eaten directly off his plate.

Yeah, Danny was officially the worst.

But he hasn't actually eaten it yet, so there's still time to fix it! Danny quickly offers to share, rambling to the not-quite-starving liminal that it's like the fattest blob ghost he's ever seen and he really doesn't mind sharing and he can have most of it if he wants, Danny's not that hungry and pretty please don't be upset?

Jason can hardly understand anything he's so ravenous at this point, but he does understand that he's being offered the food he thought he'd lost, so he chows down without any fuss, much to Danny's relief. He tries not to judge how messily the guy is eating cause who knows how long its been since he'd caught any fresh ectoplasm and its honestly no worse than Danny was the first time he ate a blobbie.

Except- the guys tainted ectoplasm seemed to be fading? Huh, maybe the illness wasn't as terminal as it seemed on the surface, if all that was needed to fix it was a decent meal.

Danny decides to leave, the liminal is obviously going to be fine and once they're head clears they're probably going to be embarrassed that Danny saw them in such a state and he doesn't want to deal with that kind of awkwardness. He carefully leaves, relieved that something that could have ended very badly had worked itself out.

Meanwhile, Barbara is trying to get Jason to respond to her without success. The last contact was almost half an hour ago when he'd snarled at her for asking if he needed someone to come help. She was pretty sure he'd ditched his comm after that, but his trackers were still active and she could see he'd come to a stop. He'd been very clear that he didn't want help, but they knew nothing about this entity and Barbara is hardly going to chance that he might be slowly bleeding out somewhere. She sends someone (or multiple someones) to go check on him.

They find Jason splattered head to toe in faintly iridescent gore, hunched over with glowing eyes and softly growling as he eats something unidentifiable.

#in case it was unclear the bat family thinks he ate someone lol #and he's not lucid enough to correct them at the moment #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #danny fenton #jason todd #cw implied cannibalism #jason isn't ACTUALLY a cannibal but his fam doesn't know that lol #please tell me what you think #this could go funny or it could go angsty either works

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