do NOT let a nagaraja into your haven at 3 am

AYO CAN I GET UHHHH number 9, 22, 24, 29, 30 and can i get some fries with that?

Ask meme here!

9: How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?

Very hard to say just because when I'm hyperfocused on art I might spend two hours a day or so and fill up like ten pages a day, but then go like two weeks without touching my sketchbook lol. Currently not in a drawing mood so iiiiii haven't actually touched it in a sec. Last thing I drew were maps for dnd

22: Are you confident that you’re improving steadily?

Absolutely. To a degree. I'm positive that I've always been improving in my art, except for my health crisis in 2021(? Ish) when I spent two years without picking up the pencil. Both for mental health reasons and because I literally couldn't hold one lmfao.

Getting back into art after that was hard. Having to train myself to hold a pencil was rough and my skill definitely suffered. I don't think I've gotten back up to where I was in skill before that time. Sometimes it's really, really frustrating. But also I've found that I've gone a bit of a different style since then as well, which I think is really cool and interesting. Some things I'm picking back up faster than others. Fuck, sometimes I SHADE my art now. I never used to do that lmao

24: Do you feel jealous when you see other people’s art, or inspired? (Be honest!)

Nope! My personal journey with art has taught me a lot about the technical skills that go into art. My personal problems being unable to draw for so long taught me how to sit back and stop thinking about what I can't do, but to admire what others Can. I don't get jealous of other people's art- I'm just in awe of it. It's amazing what different people can create with different skill and ability sets and I think there's something real fucking magical about that. Sometimes I use other people's art as inspiration, seeing little techniques I wanna try out, but overall... idk. Leaving art for the reasons I did gave me a much bigger appreciation for everything about it and I just can't find it in myself to compare art because everything is unique and amazing

29: For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc)

I use a really cool red toned oil pencil from Faber Castel for my under sketches! Then I follow it up with just normal pencil lines. If I'm feeling spicy, I'll lightly shade or add deeper values with the red. I'm a simple lad. My art is almost entirely sketches and anatomy work because that's what I love to do

30: What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

*points up to 24* All of that. My personal experiences have given me a pretty solid love of all artwork and it all inspires me.

Most of all? Collaborative work of any sort. Fandoms are considered collaborative work. Drawing things for my own writing. Drawing things for a friend's writing. Drawing OCs interacting. Shipping friends' OCs, with each other or Canon ships! Making stupid funny shitposts that haunt the collective mindscape for years to come. (I don't think the Trollhunters Fandom will ever forgive me for Thiccmar) Writing something that inspires someone to draw. Drawing something that inspires someone to write. Art trades. Are collabs. Countless role-playing. My friends who commission me to draw or write them the craziest shit that I have an absolute ball with. Just stuff that makes other people see it and go "I can play with these toys too!"

Collaborative work fuels my fucking soul and I love love love getting to do things with other people, when I have the capability of doing so

I had been stuck in the Dark World for who knows how long. The days didn’t seem to matter down here. No sun, no moon, just the vibrant green grid that coated the sky that would twitch and surge with occasional frequency.  When I first got here, I fought hard to get back to the surface, to fight for any sense of normalcy, for home but after a while the dream began to fade. The options began to run dry when compared to the dangers that surrounded me. And so I settled. I survived. I searched for food, begged for shelter from kind Darkners. I did what I had to to live. The Queen was not an option. Whispers from Darkners told me how I was just what she was looking for, that would help her expand her reign to the Light World. As much as that would probably help me, I didn’t want to ruin the lives of others for the chance to see my family, as much as I missed them with every passing minute. The sound of bustling cars and the blinding lights of neon signs stung my senses, my palms pressing into my eyes to drown out what I could. Damn it this place never slept did it? There was always something, some sort of noise. Whatever bags I had under my eyes were probably made cartoonishly drastic with the lack of pure rest I was getting. ‘Supose it was better then being dead... My body felt heavy, and I knew I’d have to find a place to rest or I’d fall asleep mid crossing of a road and get run over by one of those goofy cars I’d seen. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad... I recalled the time one of the car’s rear bumped into a fire hydrant (or at least I thought it was) and made a squeaking sound. The darkness of a certain alley called to me, the silence a sweet lullaby to the roaring around me. Was it dangerous? Oh yeah. Was it stupid? No shit. Was I going to do it? The shadows the engulfed me were perfect and if it wasn’t for the underlying stench of garbage it’d probably be ideal. Still beggars couldn’t be choosers and if tonight was good enough I would have to consider having this as my permanent sleeping spot. My back slid against the cool wall across from the dumpster, eyes half lidded as they read the advertisements littering above. Why the hell did the Queen have ads anyway, if she wanted she could monopolize any products she wanted... Despite the quiet I couldn’t shake the feeling that creeped down my spine. The presence of something other then myself around me. I tried to close my eyes, I was in the city after all. It’d be concerning if I didn’t feel like people were one second from crawling up my ass. Though I had to admit I didn’t expect to actually feel something begin to touch me. My eyes snapped open, elbow prodding into a blurry shape that yelped and tumbled backward, it’s grasp my on shoulder tearing a hole in my already worn shirt in the struggle. “Hey! What the hell?!” I barked, standing over the perpetrator. My shoulders slumped when I saw what looked to be a doll staring up at me with wide eyes, an over exaggerated smile permanently spread across it’s face. The creature’s jaw opened wider with a clack, it’s small body shooting upwards to stand on it’s small pointed feet. “WOAH WOAH WOAHAH- [Live worms]!”   The darkner’s voice was deafeningly loud, a shrill tone that cut the air like newly sharpened blades. “ I THOUGHT YOU WERE [Roadkill]. NICE TO KNOW I WON’T BE [Sleeping with the fishes] T0NIGHT!!” Well he had a certain way of speaking that was obvious. What the hell was going on with him, he talked like he was constantly being cut of random clips of other people speaking. He talked like a youtube poop or any other shitpost that would randomly shove memes into them for a quick laugh. “You thought I was dead? I was just... I was... uh.” I looked around me, eyeing the dirt and debris. “I was... going to sleep... here.”  Dammit, telling people I had to sleep in such ratty places were always a blow to the ego but I suppose it was better then saying ‘Oh I was just sitting down here to die’ The puppet shook his head and waltzed over to the dumpster, his small hand smacking the side with a sense of pride. “ [Finders keepers, losers weepers] HUMAN, YOU PICKED A GOOD SPOT. TOO BAD [so sadd] I GOT HERE FIRST. THOUGH FOR A DEAL I SUPPOSE I COULD [Share the love~]” “Got here first... what are you talking about?” The Darkner let out a laugh, distorted echoes filling the air as he leapt inside, a solitary hand popping out to beg me to come closer. This was a terrible idea, but despite my best judgement I followed, and witnessed what I could only describe to be a makeshift bed inside.  The puppet laid on top of musty mats and raggedy rugs, a single stained pillow resting just beneath his head. My god was he living in here? The creature continued his laugh, lurching only a few inches away from my face. “ [Sweet deal] ISN’T IT? J3ALOUS, [baby]?”  I shirked back, cheeks reddening at the tone of his last word. I was most defiantly not jealous, in fact I was filled with remorse, something his pride did not help with. “It’s... uh something. I guess this means I’ll have to find another alleyway um, sorry for bothering you-” “SPAMTON.” “What?” His hand shot out towards my chest, fingers wiggling for a handshake. “SP-SPA MTON G SPAMTON, [Number 1 rated salesmen 1997]” He announced, an extra flair of bravado laced his titled. His hand was surprisingly warm for what it was made of but nothing that would be described as body temperature.  “Jenna. Also 1997.” “WHAT A YEAR. LISTEN LIGHT nER, I AM DEALSMAN [yes/no?]” “Um... y-yes? I don’t-” “THEN LET ME MAKE A DEAL YEAH? FOR ONLY [many] KROMER, YOU MAY STAY IN MY [Privately owned] ALLEY. IT’S A REAL [steal] YOU’RE ROBBING ME [deaf] HERE!” My brows furrowed as I searched his face for any context clues for what the hell he was trying to say. Kromer? What the fuck was ‘kromer’? The only thing I knew of currency down here was dark dollars not kromer... even if he did ask for dark dollars he didn’t name a price, he just said many. And the amount of dark dollars I had was zero. “Uh I don’t have kromer. I don’t even have dark dollars I’m kinda broke Spamton, in case you couldn’t tell from uh...” I trailed off realizing saying that sleeping in an alley wasn’t a very smart thing to say to someone who slept in an alley.  He seemed surprised by my words, beginning to tug on my coat, flipping my pockets to see if I was really lying. I had to push his mitts off me a couple of times, to which he eventually got the idea the way his hands began to rub at his extended jaw. “NO KROMER... WHAT CAN YOU DO?” “What do you mean?” He seemed to sense my change in tone, his grin beginning to wobble nervously “[Whoopsie daisy!] LET ME START AGAIN. DO YOU HAVE A [trade]? A [skill] TO [Exchange for goods and services]?” he croaked. I eyed the ground, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell was I good at again? “I mean, I can draw, I suppose...” “ARTIST? WOW OWOW!” Spamton’s face lit up before digging in the dumpster, pulling out a few napkins and a ball point pen and shoving them into my hands. “WHAT A [trade] TELL YOU WHAT. YOU DRAW A [one-of-a-kind masterpiece] AND YOU CAN STAY THE NIGHT!” “You’ll let me stay... if I draw something for you on this napkin. Am I getting that right?” The doll nodded feverishly, basically hovering over my shoulder as I played with the pen. This was certainly the weirdest way to pay someone that I could imagine... well no but one that was in the realm of reality. I had to ask Spamton to give me some space a few time, the feeling of his breath on  my neck making me more then nervous as I drew. God he was like those kids in school that would ask for drawings but ten times worse with the amount of personal space he’d give you. Besides I needed something to draw and with nothing on the mind why not draw the most interesting thing in front of me. I held the finished doodle out to Spamton only to have it snatched out of my fingers so fast I swore we could have started a fire. “WOAH...” The puppet sank inside of the dumpster, his face softening  as for once in what seemed like forever the alley way grew silent. “THIS IS... ME?” “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know what to draw, you kind of put me on the spot. Besides everyone likes drawings of themselves right?” I shrugged, being pulled away from my thoughts by an overdramatic sniffle. Was he... crying? Not quite, just damn well close. Spamton’s shoulders quaked as a warm smile returned to his cheeks, slipping the napkin into his pocket with glee. “SO GOOD... THANK YOU.” “It’s really nothing, honestly that was a pretty shitty drawing.” “WHAT? YOU’RE [&#!^]ING ME! THAT WAS [BIG SHOT]” He was screaming again, hands gesturing wildly about. “It wasn’t but thank you. I wish I was better to be honest. I’m not very happy with my art, not at all.” I turned away from his gaze, unsure of why I was overcome by a choking sensation building my throat.  Why the hell was I telling this stranger this sort of stuff anyway? I mean I could hazard a guess it was the fact that this was the longest conversation I had had with anyone since I had gotten down here but with how things were it could be some magic power the doll possessed to tell him my deepest darkest secrets. “YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS [Big?]” “No.” “WHY NOT?” “I don’t know. I just... I think it doesn’t look the way I want it to. Doesn’t look good to me, and I don’t know how to fix it. Which I guess is a little funny considering how long I’ve been drawing. Just keep... drawing and drawing and never improving, least not how I’d like. It’s just garbage to me.” Spamton’s face seemed to fall, his glasses fading to a dark inky black.  “YOU FEEL? NO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO? YOUR [passion]?”  “Yeah.” A laugh ripped from his chest, his head lolling back with each chuckle. I felt my soul began to crack, a shame flooding my body with how hard he seemed to laugh. Did he find this funny? Humorous?  I felt tears prick my eyes as I snapped my head back to glare at him, his head glitching back to stare back at me. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME, JENNA. A [slime] A REAL [slime]!” With a quick motion the puppet jumped to the ground, his hand resting against my arm as he spoke.  “YOU’RE A REAL [BIG SHOT] YOU KNOW THAT? STAY AS LONG AS YOUR [Greasy little heart] DESIRES!” Well... that was unexpected. He’d really let me stay here as long as I want cause I was pathetic? Or did he just feel sorry for me? What was going on? And why was he calling me a slime... or us a slime?  “Oh... uh thanks? I didn’t think I was being  much of a big shot whatever that is but I apricate it. Really.” His head clacked with every little nod, leading me to a pile of cardboard boxes and patting them with the grace of a car salesman. “BEST [Seat in the house] ALL FOR YOU. [Night night forever]!” Spamton beamed, awkwardly swaying side to side before stumbling back to the dumpster a few inches away and crawling inside of it, much like a wild animal. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. This guy was weird. Kinda creepy but also kind of funny. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint a feeling on him but at least he didn’t want to hurt me just make weird ass deals and make me ‘big’. Did that mean famous? Was this guy so into my art he wanted to be some sort of manager? I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, the excitement of the day finally beginning to fade. God I forgot how tired I was, that little guy made me feel like I was gonna go into fight or flight.  “Hey Spamton?” “YES?” his voice echoed from inside the metal container. “...Thank you.”

Lady Noir/Ladrien: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Two

Many thanks to @shadownoble for the prompt for this chapter!

Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things: Chapter Two: Starlight

Groaning in exhaustion, Adrien collapsed facedown onto his bed.

Yet again, his father had run him ragged with photoshoots on top of magazine interviews on top of variety show appearances. That wasn’t even counting the extracurriculars he still had to do and the significant workload of his university classes.

He was so wiped, he almost didn’t move to look at his phone when it pinged with an incoming text.

When he saw the sender, however, he was glad that he’d put forth the effort. It was Ladybug checking in on him.

“i remember you saying you had a busy day so i wanted to see how it went”

A second message quickly followed the first: “hang in there!”

His heart melted a little at her concern.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Buguinette. <3” he typed back. “Today”

He paused, briefly considering lying and telling her that it had gone fine. Ultimately, though, he decided on honesty.

“didn’t go very well. There were a lot of problems that put us behind schedule, and my father was in a bad mood. I’m surprised no one got akumatized, honestly.”

“are you okay?” she replied immediately.

He bit his lip.

“he didnt take it out on you did he?” she prompted, and he suspected that she already knew the answer.

Adrien winced, hedging, “I’m all right. Just tired. It was a long day.”

His father had, in fact, lashed out at Adrien, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Ladybug was already on the warpath against his father, and he didn’t need to give her any more reasons to hold a grudge.

Several minutes passed with no response from Ladybug, so Adrien flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was just starting to doze off when a knock on his window pulled him out of the dazed limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

Adrien sat up with a jolt and found Ladybug smiling and waving from the other side of the glass panes.

He fumbled for the remote on his nightstand and hurriedly pointed it at the windows.

“Good evening,” she greeted cheerily as she stepped down into his room. “It’s not too late for a visit, is it?”

“A visit from you?” he chuckled. “Never. For you, my window is always open.”

“Good to know,” she laughed, taking in his rumpled, worn state. “I actually came to make sure you were doing okay and see if you wanted to go stargazing with me, but you look pretty beat.”

Sheepishly, he admitted, “I might be a tiny bit dead on my feet, but I’d never pass up the opportunity to spend time with you, My Lady.”

She didn’t know if she was ever going to get used to hearing him say that with Adrien’s face. It was taking all of her available energy to keep it together around him because she knew that treating him differently would only make things worse and defeat the purpose of her knowing his identity in the first place.

Oblivious to his partner’s internal struggle, Adrien got to his feet and was just about to call on his transformation when he remembered and winced.

“…Except…I promised Plagg that if he were good today, he could relax and watch his Netflix shows and eat Camembert in his sock drawer the rest of the evening.”

Ladybug shrugged, unconcerned. “You don’t have to transform. Just put a jacket on so you don’t get cold, and I can carry you.”

Cheeks burning, Adrien did as bid, slipping on a jacket and then taking her proffered hand.

The feel of her suit on his bare skin was odd but not uncomfortable. He couldn’t compare it to any material he was familiar with.

Not for the first time, he wished that there didn’t have to be a barrier between them.

“At least we’re one step closer to that reality with her knowing my identity,” he tried to comfort himself.

Meanwhile, Ladybug was internally freaking out and glad she still had the thin veil of anonymity to hide behind.

Almost a week after learning her partner’s identity, she was still struggling to reconcile Chat Noir with Adrien, and the feelings she had for both of them were making things complicated.

With a smile carefully pasted in place, she scooped him up into her arms and set off over the rooftops.

She didn’t go far—only to the Eiffel Tower a few blocks from the Agreste Mansion.

“Do you know much about the stars?” he asked as they settled into their usual spots at the top of the monument, away from the prying eyes of the public.

“Not really,” she confessed, sheepishly pushing a lock of hair out of her face. “You?”

“A little.” He pointed up at the sky. “Even though it’s autumn now, you can still see the summer triangle. There’s Vega, Deneb, and Altair.”

She nodded as she made out three bright stars that seemed to form a triangle.

“Over there by the moon, you can see Jupiter and Saturn,” he added, motioning to what looked like two big, dazzling stars.

She frowned. “How can you tell them apart from regular stars?”

“Planets don’t twinkle,” he explained. “Since they’re closer and bigger, their light doesn’t get distorted by the Earth’s atmosphere as much as the stars that are farther away. So, while stars twinkle when dust particles pass between them and us, planets shine more steadily because the dust particles don’t obstruct as much of their light.”

It was the kind of thing that wasn’t out of place coming from Adrien, but Ladybug couldn’t imagine having the same conversation with Chat Noir.

She blinked at him in amazement. “You’re really smart, Chaton.”

“Me? Smart?” A short bark of laughter caught him by surprise, and he shook his head. “I’m just a nerd whose parents kept him locked up most of his childhood. I read a lot to fill the time, so I’ve got a ton of useless trivia floating around up here.”

He tapped the side of his head. “For example, did you know that cats purr to self-sooth? Or, how about that the first cat video was filmed in 1894?”

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing.

That was her dumb cat, all right.

“You are such a dork,” she chortled, shaking her head in disbelief.

He shrugged, looking back up at the sky with a grin.

It was a huge relief that things between them hadn’t changed all that much since she’d learned his identity. It made him think that maybe things would be okay.

Her laughter slowly faded, and she scooted in a little closer, joining him in gazing up at the stars.

They sat there for several minutes before she spoke again.

“…You know…” She swallowed, mentally steeling herself for the confession. “…there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hm?” He tipped his head to the side, his curious gaze meeting her apprehensive one.

“I thought you should know that, about six years ago, I had this ridiculous crush on you—Adrien you,” she clarified.

His eyes flew as wide as galaxies. “You… What?”

“It wasn’t a celebrity crush or anything!” she rushed to assure, waving her arms wildly. “I…I sort of know you in real life, and I had a crush on you.”

His mouth opened and closed several times, and, after a handful of false starts, he managed to respond. “You said that you had a crush on me. Like…as in past tense.”

He drew in a slow breath, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “May I ask what I did that made your crush a past tense thing? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh!” she gasped, waving her arms like an air traffic controller yet again. “No! Nothing like that. It wasn’t your fault. It was me.”

He winced. “So…‘it’s not you; it’s me’ is what you’re saying?”

She cringed, realizing what an insincere cop out that sounded like. “No. For real, Adrien. It was me. I needed to prioritize my duties as Ladybug, so I didn’t have time for dating, but…mostly…it was that I realized that I didn’t know you as well as I should for how obsessed with you I was.”

She averted her eyes as shame bubbled up hot and red on her cheeks. “It was unhealthy, and I decided that I needed to take a step back and focus on my friendship with you…so that’s what I did. I concentrated on being your friend.”

Tentatively, she looked back up at him. “I think you needed a friend more than anything at the time anyway. …Though, I’m not sure if I even did a good job being your friend. I mean, I completely missed how bad your home life is, how much you hate your hobbies, how little control you feel like you have…”

He shook his head, setting his hand on her shoulder. “Buguinette, no. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I don’t let people see that side of things. Not even Nino knows the whole truth. I’m sure you did your best to be a good friend to me.”

He bit his lip and hesitated. “…Though…I kind of wish you would have said something about your feelings for me.” He accompanied his words with a wink and a teasing Chat Noir grin.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Flirt. You would have turned me down flat. You would have been nice about it, but you’d never have gone out with me.”

He grimaced when he realized that she was most likely right. “Probably. I may be stupid, but at least I’m loyal.”

“You’re not stupid,” she groaned. “Be nice to yourself, you dumb cat.”

He leaned in and rested his head against hers. “…Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care.”

“Of course I care,” she sighed. “You have no idea how much I care about you—both sides of you.”

She took a slow, steady breath. “…Plenty of other people care about you too, Adrien. That’s why I think you need to open up with your friends. Nino at least should know about how bad things are. He loves you, and he’d do anything he could to help.”

Adrien pulled away, straightening up and shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a burden on them.”

“They would never think of you that way,” she insisted vehemently.

“I don’t want them to worry when there’s nothing really they can do,” he amended.

“They can at least listen,” she argued. “They can text you cat memes and check in on you and let you vent. Isn’t that all you really want? People supporting you and validating your feelings and reminding you that you’re loved?”

He pursed his lips, silently considering for a long stretch. “…Yes, but…”

“Marinette told me what happened at the photoshoot today, what your father said to you.”

Adrien winced.

He’d known that Marinette was there at the shoot interning, but…

“Marinette heard that?”

Ladybug nodded.

Practically everyone on site had heard Gabriel railing at Adrien.

“He was wrong, you know.” She reached up and gingerly started massaging his scalp. “You’re not useless. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

Adrien made a noncommittal noise as he closed his eyes and lowered his head to her shoulder.

“You’re amazing and wonderful and hardworking and kind and smart and brave…and the best partner ever,” she stressed with unwavering conviction. “Your father is blind if he can’t see how incredible you are.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” he whispered, voice brittle and trembling as he held in tears.

“…You should tell your friends,” she repeated, gently urging. “You should have support in your daily life, Adrien. I can’t always be there for you, but I want you to have that kind of support. You deserve it.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “It’s just…my friends all have really solid family relationships. I don’t think they’d even understand.”

“But they’d try,” she countered. “They’d want to try to understand. They love you.”

“It’s hard to tell people you respect that you’re not all right,” he sighed.

She kept pressing, desperate to get him more support. “They’re not going to think any less of you, Chaton. I don’t. …Maybe start with someone you know will be on your side. Maybe Nino? Or…or Marinette? She was awfully worried about you today. I’m sure she’d want to help.”

Adrien winced and pulled away, sitting up to meet Ladybug’s gaze. “Yeah, but I already told one girl I like that I’m a mess this week. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to tell the other one too.”

She stared at him, blinking slowly as her braincells tried to reconfigure what he had said into something that made sense.

“You… You like…?”

An adoring smile spread across his lips, and a soft blush lit up his face. He nodded, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“Marinette,” he completed, voice full of affection when he said her name. “Yeah. I do. I have for a while now. She’s so sweet and thoughtful and fierce and courageous.”

He laughed. “I’m lucky she deigns to be my friend. Ladybug, she’s so out of my league.”

“I’m sorry. What?” she scoffed, not believing what she was hearing. “You—you who are not only Chat Noir but also Adrien Agreste—you think that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is out of your league?”

Earnestly, he nodded. “Ladybug, she’s amazing. She’s like you.”

She covered her face with her hands as her brain overloaded from how adorable he was.

“Marinette’s not out of your league,” Ladybug grumbled. “…and neither am I.”

His eyebrows slowly climbed up into his hairline.

“Shut up,” she replied preemptively.

A broad grin broke out on his face as he realized that maybe Ladybug’s feelings for Adrien weren’t entirely a past tense thing after all.

“Stop that,” she groaned.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he chuckled, cuddling up beside her once more.

“You’re being smug,” she pouted, dropping her hands from her face and wrapping an arm around him.

“I would never,” he playfully protested.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they snuggled and gazed at the stars once more.

“…Maybe I should talk with my friends about what’s going on,” Adrien whispered after a long stretch. “It’s just really hard to be vulnerable like that.”

She gave him an encouraging squeeze. “We can practice, if you think that will help.”

He took a deep breath. “Hey, Nino? There’s something I want to talk with you about, if it’s okay.”

“Sure, Mec,” Ladybug responded, doing her best Nino impression. “What’s up, mon pote?”

“…My relationship with my father is in the rubbish bin, and I kind of hate my life,” Adrien groaned.

“Dude. That is it, Mec. I’m adopting you,” Ladybug as Nino decreed. “I’ll fight anyone who gets in my way. We’re gonna make this right.”

Adrien burst out laughing, leaning heavily on his partner. “I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. That’s probably exactly what he’s going to say.”

“So, you’ll tell him?” she pressed, mentally crossing her fingers.

Adrien blew out a long exhale. “Yeah. I’ll try to talk to my friends soon. You’re right. It’s more than I can deal with on my own, and I could seriously use my friends.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Ladybug reminded, giving his hair a nuzzle.

S5 Ep10: Kaiba Embarrasses Himself on International Television Again

We start off this duel by teasing us into believing that this is a part of a theme park:

The Kaiba theme park is a weird mix of actual horrorscapes and animal crossing cutesy stuff...you can really tell what parts were Mokuba and what parts were Seto in this park.

But Leon takes it well, just kinda standing there as he’s done this entire arc--being a general forgettable nice boy who just...doesn’t do anything. Like he gets up, he plays cards, he sits down. Having him on top of a rock with melodramatic Little Mermaid waves crashing at his feet is laughably the opposite of Leon’s whole vibe.

Leon just seems like the type that listens to coffee shop ambient Youtube videos when he wants to amp himself up. This kid appears to attend a private school...somewhere...I think, and just went to a dueling competition in his school outfit because he literally doesn’t have a style of his own hanging in his closet.

Like Yugi wears his school outfit, but he does that ironically, to off-set the amount of makeup and hair spray he has in his hair. Leon wears the school outfit maybe because he admires Yugi so much, but is like “time for my rogue bow I wear in my hair. That’ll scare my competition.” He completely missed the point of the 00′s alt school outfit scene.

I do way too much art to not see the imagery. I feel like this is half my job, and playing “where’s the hidden Freudian meaning?” is half the fun of going to any art museum.

(read more under the cut)

Anyway, Seto got tired of no one paying any attention to him, so he stepped out of his 14-monitor mancave, he very quickly pulled his Dragon outfit out of the (dirty) laundry, flicked a couple sea crabs out of his pockets, spritzed it with Febreeze and called it “good enough.”

Like, is it just me, or has dragon jacket greyed out a tad from last season? Like it’s starting to get a little...worn? Like what funk is coming off of Seto Kaiba right now?

Also notice that he brought his giant stash of cards to the duel. He’s going to put on this show as if he’s not going to pull out the giant stash of cards. But like...he’s going to pull out the giant stash of cards. Like Hell boring ass Leon is going to play his deck of Candyland characters again.

Leon is declared a winner on Technicality and it’s like.

Damn Seto, for reals?

So congrats, Leon, you did literally nothing, again, and yet you mystifyingly  persist on this show. Clearly you aren‘t going to grow a second head out of that ponytail like professor Quirrel in the last act of this arc.

That’s when Yugi’s hazy memory recalls something from the Before Times of “that time period before I was possessed by a needy ghost that eats up 3/4 of my memories and time.”

So Schroeder is Atari. Neat.

Also, this makes Zigfrieds outfits a hell ton more endearing when you realize he’s this Willy Wonka game company owner making toys for children. Kinda makes you wonder why Seto’s such a stick up the ass in comparison when it’s like--dude Kaiba, maybe you could learn a thing or two about whimsy. It could really help out your inconsistent park.

Anyway, Kaiba quickly realized who hacked the park and so, understandably, he asked Zigried to leave, which...backfired?

Y’all card culture is a lot. Everyone in the audience covered their faces in shame because they were so embarrassed by Seto Kaiba and I’m like...not sure why? Because he didn’t do a duel? Against this guy who snuck into his tourney not unlike Rex and Weevil? This asshole?

Recall that the last time Seto played a guy who had a fake name it was Marik freakin Ishtar and he killed a LOT of people (actually, it was Alister, pretending to be Pegasus, but he also killed a lot of people so that still tracks). Card culture can’t seem to learn from their mistakes, although Seto clearly sees the problem with dueling a professional hacker in a digital card game on a hologram that may or may not be able to murder you. At least its not a magic.

And so, tired of being humiliated on television, Seto decides to bust out the dueling gloves (well, not those gloves. You know what I meant) and use the equipment he BROUGHT WITH HIM and clearly never intended not to use in the first place.

(I hope you enjoy this dutch angle that wasn’t quite dutch enough, so it just looks like they’re lounging)

Roland patiently walks over from...somewhere? I don’t know where Roland comes from whenever he pops up, but he waltzed over to hold onto this suitcase as if that’s a formal part of his job.

I say this so often but like...I don’t know what Roland’s job is. He’s like a valet/butler/duel referee/duel cheerleader/CEO/and I will spend the rest of this series trying to understand it. Part of me is like...could Roland be a temp worker at an agency who just gets rehired for a different Kaiba Corp job every couple of weeks?

That weird ass fourthKaiba, I will never understand Roland.

Just one letter away from being a Zigfriend, Kaiba. Just one letter away. I know this because I misspell friend a LOT.

Zigfreind? Zigfriend? Damn it, both of them look the freakin same to me, this sucks! Why can’t I spell friend without autocorrect!?

Just the amount these two fight when Seto clearly barely even remembers who this guy even is.

Leon shows up in the seats, pretending that he’s totally cool about winning on a technicality right after Zigfried went on a rant about how shameful, irredeemable, and mortally embarrassing winning on technicalities are.

He seems to take it pretty well, smiling, sitting next to Rebecca, and then dissolving right into the background because this kid’s whole deal is being way too nice to exist on this show.

Y’all we just had that art meme where people were redrawing that “How to draw manga face” and guys...that’s what our anime used to look like.

I mean look at that uncomfortable chin there, that tapers in for some reason. Those eyes melting off of her face. The lack of any 3d sense. This was an anime ideal for a very, very long time.

Anyway, the “how to draw manga face” is a perfect masterpiece and never needs to change. (But it is fun to make fun of it although I guess the person that drew it was actually a kid, which makes sense from a publishing perspective to have a kid make a book about how to draw stuff for kids.)

We see a little flashback of Schroeder and why he hates Seto Kaiba, and can I just say, I kind of love this little outfit. Kind of a shame that it’s stuffed into a flashback.

Which is when we found out that Zigfried thinks Seto Kaiba did a plagiarism.

Which is hilarious because it was Gozaburo Kaiba who was plagiarizing Seto, so like...who did it first?

OK guys. Lets talk about this.

APPARENTLY, there was some sort of contest to work with Pegasus...kind of like an architecture contest (which is a thing, when a city is doing a big project, they send out a call, and big firms will compete to see who builds it) and I GOTTA know what Pegasus’ theme was.

Like did he say to all the little rich kid geniuses “I would like something that makes my cards ALIVE, can you do that?” Then when Pegasus got a hell ton of holograms and was he like “But ALIVE--it makes it alive, right boy?” And when he was shaking the hands of each stupid kid was he like “So if I hypothetically put my dead wife on a card and slapped it into the machine--could she EXIST. Like...enough? I just need her to legally exist is all, and not like..literally of course...but enough literally to be a sin against God, can you do that?”

I just want to know if Willy Wonka Wonderkid Von Schroeder had any idea he was creating a resurrection chamber for a dark wizard. Like he has no idea that he dodged getting his business bought straight from under him and his soul shoved into a card. And it’s not like Schroeder was going to abduct Yugi’s Grandpa and ensure that Yugi would be there to save him down the road. Like I’m pretty sure Schroeder would have been sacrificed waaay before that whole island contest even went down.

Zigfried got so freakin lucky. I can’t believe he’s mad. But then again...

...the man swims in milk pools so like...maybe his logic center is busted? Maybe he wanted to die in a horrific murder island? I don't know what Zigfried is into, but I do know that because Zigfried doesn’t have millennium rod powers linking him to the millennium eye--so would it have mattered? There’s destiny reasons that Pegasus chose Kaiba.

Course...we never found out where the scales ended up, have we? We think it’s Shadi, but have we seen Shadi bust those out since Season Zero?

Man that would be a good plot twist that will absolutely not happen.

Yo, make horse guy into a dark wizard, show, I dare you!

Anyway, that’s all for now, but if you want to read from the beginning, here’s the link:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

mmkay I think it’s time for another 150 words meme because I have too many different projects and feel like I could use some pushes also just generally since my motivation writingwise appears to have, uh, slipped a little

so hit me. send me up to three numbers and I’ll write 150 words in the given project. ten options this time, two of them are literally just plotless porn, see if you can guess which

1. Then he moved to his right shoulder and felt Xue Yang flinch away from him. A very slight and plainly involuntary movement, and satisfaction crashed over Song Lan followed almost immediately by frustration that this was what Xue Yang did to him, what he made of him: someone vindictive and cruel and taking pleasure from the pain of others. Making him like Xue Yang.

He unwrapped the bandaging briskly, not gently but not deliberately hurting him either. It was an ugly wound, even for the work the midwife had done. 

The urge rose to dig his fingers into the wound, break it open again, and he recoiled from it, the vividness of it, the near longing. He could feel the slightest tremor in Xue Yang’s body under his hands. Minute, but present. He was very still otherwise, and surprisingly quiet. (Walking Far From Home)

2. “Was he hot?” she asked. 

Xiao Xingchen shot her a dirty look. “I thought you didn’t want details.” 

“If you’re going to make terrible choices I at least want to know if your terrible choice was hot.” 

Xiao Xingchen debated with himself how much judgment he could take this morning, and decided that he might as well finish it out. “It was him,” he said. “Xue Yang.”

“Who?” a-Qing said blankly. 

“The guy from the hospital,” Xiao Xingchen said helplessly. 

“Dumpster guy?” Xiao Xingchen didn’t bother to confirm. “You fucked dumpster guy?” Xiao Xingchen could feel his face getting even hotter. (Redux)

3. “Wang-popo’s roof is rotting through,” Xiao Xingchen said.

“It probably won’t last through the winter,” Xiao Xingchen said.

“With her husband gone, she can’t afford to hire someone to fix it,” Xiao Xingchen said. 

Xue Yang was doing fine at ignoring the increasingly unsubtle hints right up until Xiao Xingchen turned his stupidly beautiful face in his direction and said, “would you be willing to lend her your skills, my friend?” 

Absolutely not. “I don’t work for free,” Xue Yang said immediately. Xiao Xingchen’s face fell. (splinters)

4. “Jiujiu?” Jin Ling said.

“What,” he snapped. Jin Ling opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Nothing,” he said, altogether too innocently. “Nothing. Thanks for coming, Jiujiu.”

“You asked me to,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “Though I notice you didn’t mention who the other guests would be.”

“Oh,” Jin Ling said. “I didn’t?” 

Jiang Cheng was going to throttle Jin Ling for this. “No. You didn’t.”

“Sorry,” Jin Ling said. He did not sound sorry. “I didn’t expect there’d be any problems. Is there a problem?” 

Throttling was too gentle. “No,” he said. “There’s no problem.” He paused, and then said pointedly, “interfering in others’ personal lives is unlikely to do anything but get you into trouble.”

Jin Ling gave him a long, hard, and uncomfortably familiar stare. “Okay, Jiujiu,” he said. 

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. “So…?”

“Thanks for the advice,” Jin Ling chirped. “I’ll remember it if that comes up. I’ll talk to you later - I have go ask Sizhui about something.” 

And he was off. (Slippage)

5. Chengmei laughed, the sound bright and sharp as the blade of the knife he was holding. “I like you,” he said. “No wonder Lianfang-zun told me to stay away.”

It should have sounded like he was flirting with her. It didn’t. 

“You should treat him with more respect,” she said, making her voice firmer. “He deserves it.” Chengmei burst out laughing, and Jiang Yanli felt a flare of defensive anger.

“Don’t worry, jiejie,” he said. “I know what he’s worth. He puts up with me because he knows what I am. We understand each other.” 

Jiang Yanli frowned. “Knows what you are?” 

Chengmei bounced to his feet and stretched up on his toes. “Yeah,” he said. “His pet project.” (this world is gonna break your heart)

6. The sun was starting to poke weakly through the heavy mist by the time Xue Yang stopped working. 

The veins and arteries in a person’s neck were delicate things. Easy to cut open. Much, much harder to put back together. Good thing he’d never shied away from challenges. Good thing he’d been quick enough. Sure, better if he’d been quicker but - no point dwelling on that, it was fine, it’d worked out, hadn’t it?

He glanced at his patient, watched his chest move with his breathing. Shallow, and he was pale as shit but still breathing, which was the important thing. Stupid thing to try to do. 

“What if I hadn’t been paying attention?” Xue Yang asked him. “Where would you be then, huh?” (xxc survives and it isn’t fine)

7. He’d been scouring the cultivation world for a year and a half so far, chasing hints and scraps and rumors, cobbling together his own methods from fragments of theory and experimentation. He’d tried calling, again and again, trying to coax Xiao Xingchen’s soul back into his body. He’d caught a Lan cultivator and forced her to play Inquiry for him to no response; she’d said there wasn’t enough left to communicate with and he’d left her slit open but alive for the scavengers to find. 

He poured vitality into Xiao Xingchen’s body to keep it from deteriorating, to keep it perfect, whole, ready for him to come home. 

Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing and the doubts gnawing at him like jackals on the Lan cultivator’s guts kept getting stronger, whispering he’s not coming home. You’re never getting him back. He’s broken and gone and he doesn’t want to come back to you-

He’d thought of the Burial Mounds before. Obviously. The place where the Yiling Laozu had gained his power, where he’d held sway, taken control of a place where everyone said no one could live. (a symphony for the departed)

8. “What did I do,” he asked. His voice sounded small and weak. 

“Do? What do you mean? Don’t think it’s your fault this fucking cave fell in on us, unless you knew that that thing would bring down the ceiling in its death throes. Did you know that, Daozhang? Cause if you did then–” 

“No,” Xiao Xingchen said, though he wasn’t following anything that his - that his friend was saying. And who was his friend? How did he know him? How had they met? He couldn’t think of anyone he would call a friend, other than Zichen and...and Zichen was gone. 

“Yeah, I know,” his friend said. “Of course you didn’t. Hey, c’mere, let me–” 

He drew back, shaking his head, “no, I don’t mean - I did something, something bad, and…” 

The thought wouldn’t finish. He waited, hoping his friend would fill it in, or hoping his friend would tell him he was wrong.

“I’ve got no fucking clue what you’re talking about, Daozhang,” he said, and Xiao Xingchen took a wavering breath. (xiao xingchen + concussion)

9. It was a restless day - one of those days where he just couldn’t stay still, where he felt like crawling out of his skin and like if someone looked at him wrong he was going to spill blood. If he could manage it getting fucked within an inch of his life was usually pretty effective at dealing with it but if that wasn’t an option - if, say, some daozhangs were off dealing with laying someone’s dead grandmother to rest (he skipped out on those, these days) - the only thing to do was clear out and get some space from anyone who might look at him wrong.

Xue Yang didn’t think anyone would accept they pissed me off as a good reason to kill somebody. (reconfiguration)

10. Stuff happened. Presumably. He could tell that stuff happened, but not a lot more than that. He didn’t make much of an effort, either, enjoying the drifting, the blank quiet nothing. 

He settled back into his body slowly, in bits and pieces of sensation: someone petting his hair, his face smashed against someone’s shoulder and another body bracketing his other side. He opened one eye but all he could really see was chest. He was pretty sure Song Lan’s chest. Which was nice.

“Fuck,” he said, when he thought he had his voice back. (something about the number three)

gods of red skies (of this world to comprise)

Based on @quaranmine‘s post “that meme where the FBI shows up at your house because you know too much except it’s DreamXD and Ranboo being the only person who knows what an end portal is,” but I make it angsty.  

-----

“And here’s our table,” Phil said, and Ranboo’s jaw dropped in such standard enderman fashion he would have been ashamed, if he weren’t so preoccupied with the sight in front of him.

Slowly, he took a step forward. Leaned over and traced a finger across the pale, bumpy endstone, its tiny craters and rivers of raised ridges. It had been so long since he felt endstone beneath his skin. 

The empty sockets stare back into him, deep cyans and swirls of black. You’re here, they seem to whisper. We’ve missed you.

“It’s a cool table, but I think this is a bit of an overreaction,” he heard Techno whisper behind him. “Phil, what do we - uh...”

“Do you - do you know what that is?” Ranboo asked. He struggled to keep the awe from his voice. 

Phil glanced over his shoulders with a bewildered expression. “No?” he said, wings slowly fanning out. “What do you mean?”

“It’s-” Ranboo hesitated, taking a step back. Should he tell them? Should - should anyone in this cursed world have that sort of power? Wouldn’t that lead to more sides, more pointless statuses of power to fight over?

He made a split second decision. 

“Um, nevermind,” he said. “I forgot.”

The lie came so easily. Ranboo internally winced at how familiar his muscles were with the phrase. 

Techno eyes him, pupils narrowing, but he doesn’t comment. Phil gives them both a cheery smile and claps his hands in a neat, smooth motion, effectively shutting down the line of conversation.

“So!” he said. “Anarchy!” 

Ranboo nodded along, tried not to be too weird (or well, weirder than he must already seem to them), and that was that.

-

Everything was freezing - his crystalized bed that felt more like ice than wool, his creaking, ramshackle roof with scatterings of icicles that dripped frost and cold, the way every muscle of his body felt like it was contracting into a ball of sharp diamond. 

Ranboo couldn’t complain, though. He had a place to live. He was welcome here, which was so much more than what he deserved after everything he’s done. 

He wasn’t going to freeze to death. Worse case scenario, he takes his blanket and hides under his bed. He’ll be fine. Fine.

His chattering teeth and rapidly shivering body certainly seemed to disagree with him. 

Ranboo tried to draw in a clattering breath. The winds picked up, slicing every exposed inch of skin with an unforgiving glacier.

At least it’s not snowing, he thought weakly. 

And then, through the screeching winds and enveloping blindness of night, he heard it. 

There’s something crunching, outside the fences that made up his home. Ranboo blinked slowly, wondering if he’s finally gone off the deep end. If that last tether to sanity which his mind so desperately clung to was finally slipping away, and this was the moment he succumbed to that relentless war of the mind, never to resurface again.

For a terrible, traitorous moment, Ranboo hoped that it was Phil or Techno, here to invite him into their house of warmth, a sign of friendship or at least care, after he’d been invited into their anarchist group (which wasn’t taking sides, they just didn’t want to be ruled, was that so bad?).

“Not much of a house, is it?”

And like an arrow to his heart, that hope was promptly smashed to pieces.

“Shut up” Ranboo gritted out to the figure that was no doubt leering over him with that stupid smily mask and stupid smug voice. “You’re just jealous you don’t even have one.”

His mind scrambled around desperately as he suppressed a terrified scream. Is this his mind again? But that voice doesn’t show up outside the panic room, or does it? What does he know, really? 

Was this actually Dream, here to kill him? To take revenge on for destroying the community house? Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to drag his face away from the swath of blankets that he was clinging to, but he could hear the whine of the fence gates swinging. Something snapping shut in place. 

Dream was definitely here, unless Ranboo had, indeed, well and truly lost it. Which was a likely possibility. 

Dream, what was Dream doing all the way out here? And why now, of all times, did Ranboo decide to finally grow a spine? 

Well, either he was hallucinating big time, or Dream was here to kill him. Either way, it’s not like anything he did will matter. 

“I have a house,” Dream said, sounding mildly affronted. “Now, this pathetic excuse of a cattle pen certainly can’t be called one.”

“Just shut up and kill me already, Dream,” Ranboo yelled. His voice was muffled and thrown about by the wind, but it echoed through his bones nonetheless, and this was gratifying in some horrifying way because either way it’s not like what he’ll say will make any difference. “What, are you here to finally gloat over me too? Found a different target than Tommy, huh? Just can’t find a better use of your time than torturing teenagers-”

“What? Woah, I am not Dream,” Dream said, and Ranboo took a moment to process this information. 

“What?”

He finally looks up, squinting through the darkness and the biting way the winds attacked his eyes. 

The person that had his arms cross in front of him looked like a carbon copy of Dream, only with a pale blue hoodie instead of the usual lime green one.

“Just because you’ve put on a different outfit doesn’t mean you’ve changed who you are,” Ranboo snapped through chatters. “Fuck off or kill me, Dream. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I told you, I’m not Dream,” was the reply. “Check your communicator.”

Ranboo, slowly, drew out the device and glanced at the pale, glowing screen. 

DreamXD whispers to you: I’m here.

“Really reassuring,” Ranboo said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the nice ones?” ‘DreamXD’ asked. “I thought you had manners, or something like that.”

“Since when have manners ever helped me?” Ranboo bites, suddenly feeling something sullen draw his stomach down. Bittering clung to every word. “It’s like nothing around here gets done without violence.”

“That’s not my problem.” DreamXD made some shrugging motion, slowly turning his shoulders in an unsteady fashion like he was just getting used to moving his body. “I’m just here to...”

Ranboo flinched as a glimmering stick appeared in DreamXD’s hand. He recognized the telltale sheen of glowing enchantments, but that shouldn't be possible because you can’t enchant sticks. 

Dream, or DreamXD, or Not Dream, whatever the fuck he was - waved his glowing stick above him in what Ranboo assumed was supposed to be a menacing manner. He looked mostly like a deranged serial killer, which was, concerningly, also an apt description for the actual Dream. 

“I need to make an alteration to your book,” he said. “Hand it over.”

Ranboo stared at him for a long, drawn moment. His mind was blank, unresponsive, why would he want the memory book-

And then, his memory book was in the other entity’s hands, and Ranboo began yelling again.

“Give it back!” He lunged forward, but DreamXD teleported to the side and slammed his fist down on Ranboo’s back. He hit a faceful of snow and dirt, and a pained whine escaped his throat as the heel of a boot dug into his neck. 

Everything hurt. His back is now throbbing. Ranboo suppressed a sob as he heard the telltale sound of pages flapping wildly in the wind - and then the sound of ripping paper, grating against every bone of his body. 

Again - no, this couldn’t be happening again, why is this happening again, he was so careful and he hadn’t done anything and surely he had been good this time, hadn’t he?

His mind only just seemed to process what was happening. His memory book - his memory - was being stolen, torn, violated yet again and this time Ranboo could do nothing but listen and cry into the cold, gritty dirt while his neck is on the verge of snapping and what did he do?

He just wanted peace. He just wanted to be loved - not even loved, to just be left alone. To live without constant fear of pain or death or someone destroying everything he held dear. Was that so much to ask for?

Yes, a part of his mind whispered. You blew up the community house. You betrayed L’Manberg. You didn’t even have the spine to tell Techno and Phil, your new allies, what the end portal is. They welcome you onto their land and group and you repay them with more hidden secrets? How else will you betray everyone?

Everything part of him was burning. Ranboo wanted to slice and strip off all his skin, to submerge himself in freezing cold water and close his eyes and not have to worry about any of this anymore and why did he want all of that so much-

“There we go,” the voice above him suddenly said, and Ranboo made a choked noise as something hard kicked deep into his side. He tumbled across the floor with a few soft crunches before going limp, body splayed at unnatural angles that twisted knots around all his muscles. His throat felt more parched than desert sands, scraped raw and bloody. 

Something thudded in front of him, and Ranboo somehow had the strength to claw himself over through a filmy, blotched vision and drag his memory book back into his embrace. There were pages missing, ripped from the spine in jagged chunks like an unfinished puzzle shredded apart from frustration.

He choked again as a hand closed around his neck and dragged him up and something sharp and flaming jabbed into his chest. 

A coarse sleeve muffled his wailing scream. 

This pain was worse, so much worse, worse than the wither skulls and being dunked in water and all the stabs and slices he’s ever endured combined, his insides were burning and burning and on fire and covered in lava and Ranboo thought for a few fleeting moment that he would combust into sheer nothingness and he wanted to forget, forget why am I still here forget everything please I don’t want to be here-

“There we go,” the voice, that Dream voice, said, and it sounded so sickeningly like Dream but also not at all, because whereas Dream‘s voice always held a demeaning smugness about him this one had nothing but cold indifference, and Ranboo wasn’t sure which was worse but he couldn’t focus to think anyway because his entire world was red and white and burning and what the fuck was that stick enchanted with-

At some point, the pressure stopped. It faded away increments, and all Ranboo could comprehend was that eventually, as his mind flopped away from the shelter of nothingness, he was on the ground again and Dream was above him and everything was horribly, horribly silent. 

Why, he wanted to scream again to the howling winds, but his throat was spent and dead and he couldn’t move or do anything except lie there and spasm erratically like a dying animal with its guts already pooling across the stiff, blue grass. 

What did I do why is this happening please I’m so sorry I’m so sorry it’s all my fault please stop I don’t want to die-

“Let this be a warning,” the voice said in a smooth, terribly indifferent way. “If you write down what happened here, or about that end portal, I assure you that things will get much, much worse. And if you tell anyone, anyone else even a hint of what that portal is-”

Ranboo couldn’t even flinch as something cold pressed against his throat, as much as his mind leaped at the feeling. 

“I guarantee you will never see the light of day again.”

Was this what it had all been about? The portal? That he was being punished for his origins after all, for having the - the knowledge itself? For having the power to utilize it, even if he never would? 

“You really are Dream, aren’t you,” Ranboo rasped. He creaked his neck up to stare blankly into that pearly white mask. Every part of him, from his screaming body to his scattered, twisting thoughts felt weighted with magma, smoldering in its own ruins. 

Dream shrugged, a bit faster this time, and disappeared in a shower of flaking purple particles that drifted around like the snow that had, during some part of all this, began to fall. 

His eyes stung. His entire face was covered in tears, sharp daggers flicking the skin across with every movement. Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to care. He cradled his cold, crumpled memory book to his chest and knew that, as much as he hoped it was, this was not just a nightmare. Not in a world like this.

-----

Read on Ao3 here.

"I'm in love with you." (Sorry I know this is like a week late on this meme)

(It’s quite alright! Memes on my blogs don’t have expiration dates. ^_^ Below the cut because I let my inspiration run wild and it got super long, heh.)

Wanda had to turn and look at Steve. She needed to see his expression because... she was almost certain she’d heard him wrong, but... no. Not with the way he was looking at her. “You... you are?” Nervousness filled her. How real was this? It wasn’t that she thought he was lying or playing games with her, but she’d seen a woman in the nightmare she’d invoked in Steve’s mind before she became his ally. She’d gotten the name... Peggy.

She’d gleaned such sorrow and regret surrounding his feelings for her at the time. That and love. The aesthetics of the dream were from a bygone era, and so Wanda assumed that the woman was no longer living, but was he still in love with this Peggy? Was Steve just sad and lonely and maybe not thinking clearly right now, given the stress they had all been under from going on the run after he’d rescued her and others from the Raft? Wanda didn’t think it was her place to ask or assume, but that left her feeling uncertain. Did her nightmare stir up feelings for someone he lost and now he was looking to fill that void with someone else? How ironic would that be... if her own tactic had plunged her into this awkward situation?

That this other woman seemed to live rent free in Steve’s head was something Wanda had reminded herself of often since those days, every time she felt herself developing a crush on him, to remind her that he probably was not and would never be interested in her. It had kept her from saying or doing anything stupid around him during her time in the Avengers training compound. At least for the little over a year she’d been permitted to stay there. before she became a fugitive of the United States.

And then there were the simple facts that he was Captain America and she was an immigrant, not that she was sure she’d ever be able to go back to the U.S. at this point. Would that... be a problem? Not to him, she knew. He wasn’t that kind of person. But he was a symbol for his country, one that until nearly a year ago she had grossly misunderstood. Wanda refused to believe that he wouldn’t be reinstated at some point, even after everything that had happened. The U.S. would be stupid not to, in her opinion. Would his government and his fans have a problem with him having feelings for someone who wasn’t even an American citizen for a full year yet? Wanda had become a citizen with the help of Stark fast-tracking the process for her despite their pointed differences and grudges - him helping her seemed like a distant memory now -  but she hadn’t been one for long. Would his fans or employers take offense to that? She didn’t want to become a problem for Steve. Goodness knows he had enough problems to deal with right now.

Wanda knew she had a crush on Steve, but was it love? She was attracted to him, sure. He was a good-looking guy, and the honorable way about him and his gentleness off the battlefield were definitely things that drew her in. But it was more than that. Steve made her feel safe at a time in her life when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. Her brother was gone, her home was gone, she’d been in a strange country surrounded by people who used to be her enemies, trying to find her way through the thick, unrelenting heaviness of grief. Even over a year later, the battle of Sokovia and that dark, cold, sickening, and sinking feeling she’d felt when Pietro died were still as potent and near to her in her mind as if they had happened yesterday.

And yet, through it all, Steve had been there to check on her, to push her to take care of herself, to offer advice, and to help train her when she felt up to it. There had been so many long conversations on the training grounds or in her room, late-night tea breaks in the kitchen when she couldn’t sleep, glances stolen during important meetings when she just needed his reassuring gaze to ground her for a moment, and reassuring hands held or placed on her shoulder or back. Steve had also been the one to make sure Pietro’s body was recovered, allowing for a proper burial. That... had meant the world to her, and she never forgot it.

Then... he rescued her from the Raft... To be fair he’d intended that day to rescue far more people than just her, but even so, drugged, restrained, suffering from a debilitating allergy to sedatives, and feeling hopeless, Wanda’s tortured mind had latched onto him the moment he entered her cell. After being catatonic for so long, the memory of being carried by him, of his warmth and encouraging words to her, was etched onto her brain like a brand. Remembering that feeling had gotten her through the very rough days of illness and trauma recovery to follow. She remembered his concern as she lay in bed, sick as a dog, while the group of newly minted fugitives decided where to go, what to do. He’d let her stay with him at her request after the group split up to avoid detection. He’d been so kind and understanding and sweet and- 

Oh gods... this is way more than a crush. The realization hit her as she stared at him, afraid of saying the wrong thing at what could be a pivotal moment. But with all her insecurities, worries, anxieties, and suppositions, Wanda thought the best thing to do was to be honest with him. That’s all he’d ever been with her.

“I... I’m in love with you too,” she admitted, the verbal expression of her feelings making her heart flutter in a nervous but not necessarily bad way. She’d never dated anyone, never had a boyfriend. She’d never even been kissed. Apprehensions emerging from her traumatic background and an overprotective brother had seen to that. The closest she had come was Vision, but... after he sided with Tony and allowed her to be sent to the Raft, Wanda knew she couldn’t be with him. She thought... that maybe she would just be alone. But now... Wanda found herself wanting more out of life. Maybe... it was time to step out of her comfort zone and try to live a little more...? If being imprisoned and losing so many loved ones had taught her anything, it was that life was much too short. “So... what now?” she asked shyly, a smile lingering on her lips as her cheeks began to turn pink.

First and foremost, love your blog 😘 If it's okay, how would the boys react to their s/o being overly emotional/possibly hormonal? Maybe it was just a bad day, maybe that time of the month. Or both 😩😢

Thank you!!! Sorry it's taken so long to get to this, it's actually second in line but I'm still getting legit salty at Tumblr for eating the first in line....anyway! The soft that is about to come your way istg 🥺💖 I try to be inclusive here so the s/o will have they/them pronouns, interpret that however you like 💖 🏳️‍🌈 (they really need more pride flag emojis)

Leo wasn't sure what was happening as a whole, but he knew that something was going on. Several passive texts among other things had stated as much. So, in hopes that it would make them feel better, he drew a bath, making sure the bubbles scents weren't too overwhelming leaf they trigger a headache. That was the last thing they needed right now. He figured, a nice hot bath, some soothing music, candles in their favorite, he chuckled to himself, 'flavor', as they liked to call it. Once it was all set, he actually went to the greenhouse to toss some recent blooms from his chamomile tea plants in. They weren't rose petals, he knew, but hopefully they would help sooth them. When they got to the lair, he greeted them with a soft but lingering kiss to the crown of their head. "I know today's been rough for you-"

"No it's fine I-"

"So, I set something up for you. I'd offer to cook something for you but you know how well that will go, so, what would you like? I'll order it." He smiled down at them as he led them to the waiting bath. He didn't miss the shake of their shoulders, or their sniffle as the dam began to break. "You know I'm here for you, to be an ear, a shoulder, anything you need...so don't be afraid to talk to me about it when you're ready, okay?" He asked, giving their shoulders a gentle squeeze only to have them throw themselves at his chest, already crying. He smiled wanely down at them and held them close, resting his cheek on their head and rubbing their back as they cried. "Do you want me to just stay with you?" He offered quietly. They nodded against his chest, and so he did. He stayed and held them close until they cried themselves out. Leo stayed and spoke soothing words to them as they relaxed in the tub, his hand lazily swirling the surface of the water. He stayed and bathed them, massaging their shoulders as he noted the distinct tension. He stayed and helped dry and dress them, only to carry them off to bed. He tucked them in, sliding right into the bed alongside them, and held them close. For now, they would just rest here. He could ask Donnie or Mikey to get them something to eat when they got hungry. But for now, this is all that they needed.

Raph was honestly a bit frustrated. He'd done everything he normally did when they were in a funk, but it just seemed to get worse by the damn day! He couldn't figure out how to help on this one! There was no one to scare off, there was nothing that needed a firm hand and some elbow grease, it wasn't one of his brothers being stupid, and he knew he hadn't done it because they would have told him so by now! Right?! They always did before! He took a deep breath and sat down on his bench press, cupping his head in his hands as he thought. He didn't realize it, but they'd gotten off of work early and had headed straight over, which left them watching him as he mulled it over and over in his head. "Raph?" They called quietly, instantly drawing him from his thoughts as his head shot up.

"Hey sweets, how was your day?" He asked, holding out a hand to invite them over. They shuffled over and sat down on his lap, laying their head against his chest.

"Shitty..." They mumbled. Raph sighed quietly, cradling the side of their head to pull them closer so he could kiss the opposite temple.

"I'm sorry...anything I can do to make ya feel better?" He asked. He never asked. He always just, had something that did. Something always made them feel better, but this slump, he hadn't been able to break it like usual for them.

"I'm hungry...but I don't feel like eating...can you just, pet my head and hold me for a while?" They asked quietly, as if he might actually refuse.

"I'll tell Mikey to make your favorite an then we can go lay down, alright?" He offered, getting up with them and taking their hand. After he got a nod, he led them to Mikey's room to ask him for a favor before he took them to his room. They didn't bother with blankets, but Raph pulled one up over them anyway. Once they were settled, nice and close together, he began stroking his hand through their hair, churring far more quietly then he ever did in an attempt to lull them to sleep, knowing they could probably use it.

Donnie had been busting his ass all week. For once he was going to have a completely free weekend for them and himself. What he didn't realize was that his business had only made what had been a terrible week already, worse. So, when they didn't come around like they usually did, he grew concerned. He informed his brothers he would be gone for a while before he went topside to get to their apartment. He tapped on their window once he was there. No answer. He frowned thoughtfully, pulling out a small knife. Normally he would never need to use such a simple tool directly like this, but, desperate times. He slid the blade between the windows overlap to unlatch the lock before he opened the window and slipped inside. He called their name. No answer. He looked around, they weren't in the livingroom. The kitchen was a bit worse for ware, but empty. The bathroom door was open, unoccupied, so that left their bedroom. He knocked gently on the door before entering. All the lights were off, their phone wasn't even plugged in, the curtains were drawn shut and the windows were covered with blankets. It was as if they wanted to be swallowed by darkness. He called their name softly as he approached their bed. With his goggles he could see their movement in the dark. "Hey...what's going on? Something happen?" He asked. They seemed to curl in on themselves more. "Did you want to talk to me about it...or did you want to be alone-?"

The words had barely left his mouth when they sobbed a 'no.' Donnie didn't hesitate to pull them, blankets and all, into his lap to hold them close.

"Shhhh, it's okay, I've got you. You're safe, I'm here." He soothed, rocking them gently as he held them. "I'm yours all weekend, anything you need, I'm here." He assured peppering the top of their head with kisses all the while.

Too overwhelmed by emotion to explain, they continued to cry in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around themselves as they tried not to fall apart completely. Of course, if they did, Donnie would be there to put the pieces back together with a gentleness even his own inventions didn't know. He wouldn't leave their side until they felt better.

Mikey was antsy. For the past few days, he could tell they were sinking into another episode. How to stop it though!? He'd made sure to be there to talk to them any time he could. He tried not to get too physical since sometimes they just didn't want to be touched. He was walking on eggshells and he wouldn't complain about it because he knew they were slowly crossing a trail of shattered glass. It would only get worse before it got better. That was, until the day they didn't come to the lair. He knew he shouldn't worry, maybe they just wanted alone time. But then, when they were like this, being alone was the worst thing. He found himself charging out of the lair at dusk and nearly busting through their apartment window before he thought better of that. He knocked urgently. With a click, the window unlocked and slid open. "Mikey?"

They were barely able to register him even being there before he was in their apartment, scooping them up and hugging them tight, murmuring a string of apologies into their hair. "I know you get touched out sometimes when you're like this but when you didn't come I got worried and, and-" he didn't even realize he was crying until they started to soothe him, shushing him and wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"It's okay, I'm fine, I'm safe, I'm right here." They assured softly. Mikey felt even worse for making them feel bad about worrying about them, and he knew they would.

"I just wanna help. How can I help?" He asked, holding them a little tighter. Believe it or not, just knowing that he cared that much, that he'd shed tears for them because he cared so much, they felt a little better already.

"Just...stay...watch a movie with me?" They asked, looking up at him. He nodded, willing to do anything, and it wasn't like the task was difficult anyway.

"Of course, whadya wanna watch?"

@wacheypena @wacheypenaart @lady-ella1 @acelikesturtles @the-second-circle-of-shell @shadow-prime @memes-in-a-half-shell

‘Toxic’ Anime Fandoms (But I’m just angry)

Ok so this is gonna be a long stupid ramble because I (An idiot) found some articles online about toxic anime fandoms... and by god does it piss me off. SO in this essay I’m gonna incoherently scream about why these articles I found are just lacking in explanation, and then I point at the glaring flaws. Not to mention I’m using multiple articles, but they all like to use similar arguments.  Warning, I’m gonna paraphrase because these articles are long winded about literally nothing.

The Naruto fanbase is toxic because people compare everything to Naruto, and people get upset when you don’t put it in your best anime list!! Honey... HONEY, that’s how all fandoms are. Naruto was likely people’s first introduction to anime, and people are defensive over their nostalgia, I mean like you saw the uprising with the new Ben 10 and Teen Titans Go, other than the fact that they’re BAD, but people were upset and still are (which is yet again understandable)  Seriously, if I made a list that said ‘Best Things Ever’ and I didn’t include something that they liked, then I understand why someone would be upset, and maybe comment something. It’s the day in age where if you have an opinion someone will probably be upset with you.

The Deathnote fanbase is toxic because people like to say it’s good and act offended if you haven’t watched it! Well I mean... Yeah? That’s how fans of a show can act, it’s just exaggerated. I mean seriously, if someone told me they haven’t ever played Undertale, or heard anything about Homestuck- I’m gonna wonder about what part of the internet you’ve been on because I played Undertale for the first time in like 2019 thanks to how much my friends praised it, and I only got into Homestuck in very late 2020 because one of my friends went on a three hour rant about homestuck and I needed the context for so much stuff. Hell, I only have any knowledge on Deathnote because my friend took their old Deathnote Manga and gave it to me for my birthday- which was a touching gift since they really love Deathnote. 

The Hunter X Hunter fanbase is toxic because it doesn’t get attention from weebs, and the fans sometimes get angry. Seriously? That’s what we’re mad about? This is literally so fucking petty my god- next ffs.

The Jojo fanbase is toxic because ‘is that a jojo reference memes’ and because fans want you to watch Jojo. Fucking- AGAIN!? jesus christ. You wanna know how I got into Jojo? My tooth was pulled, and it was the first time I ever got any teeth pulled, so I was high as hell and spitting out blood occasionally. I didn’t want to walk home that day (for obvious reasons) and so I stayed late so I could get a ride from my friends parents. So when another mutual acquaintance came up, and he was playing the Jojo game on an emulator. This got into the three of them telling me about Jojo, but only super vague pieces of it. High off my ass I got home, binge watched like two seasons of it, and forgot everything that happened after the first episode. So I managed to get through the first season (again) before I got caught up in other things (ahem, pokemon) Not to mention that its normal to want to share something you like with other people. Back when I read books regularly I used to keep a list of books to recommend to my friends.

The Demon Slayer fandom is bad cuz too many spoilers :(  Okay? This... This doesn’t a toxic fandom make. Yeah it’s shitty, but like full fucking on- that’s not toxic?

The Dragon Ball fanbase is toxic because people think Goku is the strongest and argue about it, and it’s dying, but like I’m also proof that DBZ fans aren’t bad! Okay? And? Like I full on mean that. I’m a Dragon Ball fan and let me tell you- I’ve literally never seen a single fucking person actually say anything like that unironically- or during a power leveling video that’s an actual discussion about power scaling. Not to mention that for the most part people watch shows for the actual show? Like the plot, characters, storyline- ya know, the actual fucking show?

The Attack on Titan fanbase is toxic because fans sent death threats to the author for ending the manga. Jesus fucking christ- okay, yeah that’s toxic! So... where’s the catch? They also wrote their own endings to the manga. I swear to GOD- WHAT THE FUCK. Fanfiction has existed forever you ignoramus, bleach-snorting, styrofoam eating IDIOT. Seriously, I literally fucking rewrote the entirety of Naruto (Multiple Times over) are you gonna say that I’m Toxic? How about the multiple other hundreds of people who have literally rewritten entire works of fiction.

Now, what do I consider toxic fanbases? The top three are: Undertale, Homestuck and Steven Universe. The Undertale fandom managed to be so bad that people were actually kinda scared of it. Not to mention that it is a good game, people just went a bit too far. If you killed anyone people would send death threats, Markiplier (a really cool youtuber) had people yell at him for giving Sans a southern accent, and I mean the fact that it’s so big made it worse. The Homestuck fandom had many bad moments where some fans caused harm to others, damaged products, the girl who nearly killed herself trying to dye her skin for a cosplay, AND LITERALLY CHANGED THE CONVENTION FIELD. The Steven Universe fandom nearly killed a fan because she drew a fat character thin, they turned on the fucking creators for saying this was bad, multiple racist, sexist and homophobic things just existing while people pretend to be fake woke.

And this has been- I literally knew all of the bad fandom stuff because I lived through it. Problem is, I lived through the popularity of every single anime on this list while actively in more internet spaces, and I don’t fucking see it. Seriously, when I think of toxic anime fanbases I think about anime like Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, where a bunch of 30 year olds get horny over a child and then say that they’re fine because she’s ACSHUALLY 2,000 years old! I mean fuck, my favorite meme is literally the- “Men be like “You’re not a real anime fan if you don’t watch ‘Is it wrong to piss on my bunny sister’s feet?’“ Like- fucking exactly. Both these fucking articles have ‘I think that when someone is a little mean or says something kinda annoying they’re TOXIC!’ Like bitch no, when I think toxic I think of the gaslighting fanbases that end up with multiple people with mental disorders or someone dead- which let me tell you, is a surprisingly large amount of fandoms? 

Anyways so I’m done, mainly because it’s like super fucking late and I’m so tired

Hi!! I wanted to request an scenario where the reader is a teacher in UA and is also good friends since their school years with Aizawa and Hizashi. She finds her old notes with some doodles and brings it to work so she could revive some memories with her friends. What she didn't remember is that she used to write Aizawa's name in her notebook with hearts around it... Kind of thing.... Thank you in advance ❤️❤️💖💖

AYYYY AN AIZAWA REQUEST yesyesyesyes this is so cute I love this. I hope I wrote him to your liking!! Also I am super sorry for the long wait! I had an unannounced hiatus and everytime I went to write this scenario Tumblr deleted it!!! >:,( but here it is!!

“It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these things!!” You squealed happily as you flipped through the pages.

“We were probably, what, second years back when I used this? God, that felt like centuries ago!”

You had found an old note book of yours that you used to use all the time in high school. You were a teacher now at UA, alongside your high school best friends, Shota and Hizashi. The three of you were often around each other along with other friends you had had. Though it felt so long ago, it’s as if you could remember that chapter of your life clearly...

“When do you plan to tell him?” Hizashi whispered teasingly at you as he peaked over your shoulder. You squeaked, pulling your notebook to your chest as a deep blush crept onto your face.

“C-can you not?? jeez Hizashi!” you whisper-yelled at him, to which he only laughed. The racket you two had caused caught a certain someone’s attention.

“What are you two doing?” Shota asked, turning around in his seat to face the two of you. He placed an elbow on your desk, propping his head on it. The teacher wasn’t in class yet so some students chatted away, it wasn’t a crime for you three to do the same.

Shota shifted his gaze to you, your slightly pink cheeks catching his attention.

“H-he’s flirting again, you know how he is.” You lied through your teeth, holding your notebook to your face to try and cover your blush. Hizashi laughed at the remark, adding a “yeah, okay.” Shota sighed, humming a little as to say “ah, of course” before he let out a small yawn.

“I’m gonna nap. Wake me up when sensei gets here.” He said groggily as he rested his head in his arms on your desk. Before you could even respond, he was fast asleep on your desk. pulling down your notebook a tad, you revealed the heart filled smile you had towards his sleeping form. Hizashi has made some teasing comments here and there, but you hadn’t paid much mind.

It was true, you had a crush on Shota back then. To say your attraction towards him disappeared would be a lie, but the two of you were professionals now, and there was no room for fluffy feelings like that. While occasionally you wished for such a romance between the two of you, you always shook the thoughts away. Shota was your coworker, as well as just your friend.

With that said, you made sure to try and avoid bringing one of your notebooks that had love poems and confessions in them. You had a bad habit of day dreaming back then, and when you’re a teenager, you can imagine what kind of things you day dreamed about.

“You used to draw that little thing on all of my papers, I couldn’t escape it.” Shota said, pointing to a familiar, simple cat doodle you often did. You laughed, flipping a few pages to see the same doodle reappear several times. He chuckled softly as well.

“Oh! And here’s that freaking S!” Hizashi said, pointing to the infamous ‘S’ symbol probably all teenagers drew at one part of their life. “That thing haunts me!! I have no idea what it is or where it came from!!” Hizashi exclaimed over dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “I’m pretty sure everyone drew it.” You added.

The three of you sort of huddled around, reminiscing on old notes and doodles you all once did. Most of them were done by you, but some pages were filled with doodles done by all of you. Hizashi’s doodles usually contained random things, even memes at the time. Shota seemed to write small notes that usually were filled with sarcasm, and would occasionally draw little cats. Your doodles were always all over the place, from things like skulls to bunnies, or sharks and flowers. If hero work wouldn’t have worked so well in your favor, perhaps you would have been an artist. Who knows?

The time came when your off period was up, and the three of you had to go back to class and teach. You had left your notebook in the lobby, expecting to take it home with you when you left.

Unfortunately, you were a bit of a clutz that day, and had started to run late for your train.

“Ah, I’ll talk to you all tomorrow!!! My train is about to be here in ten minutes and it’s usually a fifteen minute walk, I gotta run!!” You called in a panic as you dashed out of the school.

“W-Wait, I could-” Shota called out to you, before stopping himself.

“... just give you a ride...” he sighed as he watched you scurry off without a second thought. He had to stay back for a half an hour anyway to file some paperwork, he would have had no issue bringing you home. But you were quick on your feet, and already too far and too determined to catch that train.

Aizawa laughed softly. You were always like this it seemed. You weren’t an idiot, no, but... an airhead? Sure. You often were oblivious to things going on it seemed. Not to mention how forgetful you could be.

On the topic of your forgetfulness, it seems you had yet again left something at work.

Shota looked over at you desk, noticing the notebook you seemed to have left behind while dashing off for your train. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Shota was basically expecting it at this point. He let out another sigh, picking up the notebook. Upon noticing it was your old notebook from highschool, he opened it up to relive a few memories before getting back to filing papers. It was the same nostalgic things he had seen earlier, some things he didn’t remember, some things he remembered all too well. A small smile played on his lips as he flipped through the pages.

“What are you doing?” Shota inquired as he watched you scribble in your notebook.

“Nothing!! You can’t see yet!!” You giggled as you continued to intently sketch away.

Shota wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but find you cute like this. Maybe it was the way your hair fell in your face as you worked, maybe it was the little smile on your face, he couldn’t put his finger one what exactly caught his eye about the familiar sight. And yet, any time you did your little sketches, he’d sneak glances. Not at your notebook, but at you. You were just so cute when you were determined.

“Okay, I’m done. Lookie!” You said, placing your book on the desk for him to see. Shota blinked a few times before he realized what he was looking at. “It’s you!” You giggled.

It was a sketch of a cat, a black one, with the binding cloth around its neck. Shota felt a small smile pull on his lips as he looked at it.

“It’s so cute..” Shota muttered, before realizing what he had said. He looked up to you, expecting some sort of weirded out expression, but instead was met by your flustered expression.

“It’s just a doodle, it isn’t that cute! Haha!” You said sheepishly, waving him off.

As far back as Shota could remember knowing you, he had always recognized you as a strong girl. And yet, when you weren’t busy kicking ass, you found the time to be cute and endearing. Perhaps it was the duality you had that attracted him so much. But with how things have been recently with hero work and teaching, he doubted now was the right time to act on any sort of feelings. Shota couldn’t risk ruining the healthy work relationship the two of you had.

Shota flipped through a few more pages, and was ready to leave his reminiscing session there, until his eyes caught his name in one of the pages he passed. Blinking a few times, he flipped back a few pages, and scanned the page for his name. It didn’t take much scanning at all though. He felt his heart stop.

Not only did he find his name surrounded by hearts, but he found entire heartfelt notes. Little notes about the little details you noticed and loved, notes about how much you loved his long hair, notes about how you adored his love for cats, notes about how you admired his hard work on mastering the binding cloth...

Shota hadn’t felt his heart swell like that in years. It hurt almost, he even almost let out an audible swoon. Sitting down at his desk, he tried to process what he was reading. How many other Shota’s did they go to school with at the time? Was it really him she was talking about?

It had to be. Who else could it be?

Shota closed the notebook and sat back in his chair. His heart pounded against his chest, his head swarmed him with thoughts on what to do now that he had this information. He wanted to just kiss you, call you stupid for not saying anything for long, telling you he felt the same and still does. But that begs the question, do you still feel that way? The idea of your feelings fading away all these years later made his breath hitch. It was totally possible. You were teenagers, what if it was just a little phase? Something you were in and out of within a week?

Shota sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, settling for an idea he had. He’d come over to your apartment to drop it off, and he’d ask you about it then, right? Surely that was a fool-proof plan, right?

“What am I, 16?” Shota mocked himself out loud. He was acting like a nervous teenager again. Why?

Packing up and calling it a day (despite not filing a single paper...), Shota set off towards his car.

He held a hope in his heart that things haven’t changed too much from when you two were teenagers.

Mystics, Chapter 5

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics, by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as good as it seems…. Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] Tag list: (Oh wow I have a taglist!?)@myst-in-the-mirror CW: kidnapping, threatening, knife, car crash.

CHAPTER FIVE: A BLUE TRUCK AND A BIG KNIFE There was a calmness to the halls of Strathford High School that hadn’t been felt by Arch in their entire time the had been attending it. English and Math passed them by in the morning without hardly any difficulty; they were even able to concentrate on The Tempest by William Shakespeare without zoning out every two minutes. Their heart was calm. Arch ate their lunch with their friends, talked about the newest episodes of Stranger Things, shared stupid memes, and complained about their homework. It wasn’t until their third period in chemistry that Arch began to sense a familiar dread. They took a deep breath before entering the room, seeing the divided rows of shining white tables, Arch took their usual spot near the back. They avoided allowing others to sit behind them as much as they could. It prevented hair pulling and stray gum, spitballs, and that lingering sense that they were being watched. As well, looking forward, it was easier to catch others staring; if that was what they wanted to do instead of concentrate on formulas. The classroom filled up steadily, and it looked a little bit sparse. It was then that Arch realized exactly what was different- exactly who was missing. Off to the side and ahead of them, Arch heard a conversation between two students as they set down their book bags. A few words in and Arch was already experiencing a shameless elation- one might even say it was hope. “- called my mom last night crying because she didn’t know where Jess was.” “Really? Crying?” “Apparently, Jess told her mom she’d be over at my place for a sleepover”- “Pfft, no way,” the one friend sputtered. “She was totally banging Kyle.” “Right?! Like I wanted to say something to my mom, but like, how would that even sound? Oh, sorry Miranda, Jess wasn’t here at all, she was just fucking some kid you barely know. I can’t say that. It would be cruel.” “Well, Kyle isn’t around today again either. Neither’s Marc”-

The classroom filled with more chatter. Some talking about anime, and others continuing the gossip of what could have happened to Jess, Marcus, and Kyle. None of the students could say they were able to reach them. One mentioned knowing that Marcus was downtown a couple nights ago which prompted a response from another friend-

“I know he has hockey practice tonight. He’ll be there even if he’s really sick.” Jordan spouted. “He’d never leave the Strathford Flyers hanging.”

Finally, Ms. Peters shut the conversations down. Arch was getting tired of hearing the chatter anyway. They may have been a tad curious of the three’s sudden disappearance, but ultimately, they didn’t want to become too hopeful. Their disappearance was a blessing. Arch would take it as one for as long as it would last.

Days turned to weeks, and still, no one had seen or heard a single thing from any of the three missing students. Police officers came into the school, probably too late to really score any reliable interviews from other students. They spoke to friends, to teachers, but not to Arch.

No one really cared what Arch had to say- and for that, they were quite thankful. They wouldn’t need to justify why they seemed happier, why they seemed more relaxed, why they were suddenly free more-so than they ever had been before. If given the opportunity, Arch probably would have told them every horrible thing Marcus, Kyle, and Jess had ever done to them, and every horrible thing they said to them until the constable would also agree: this world was a much better place without them here to spoil it for everyone else.

With less than a month left in their grade twelve experience, Arch boosted their marks in every subject. It was as though, since the disappearance, even the act of thinking became easier. Everything became easier. Arch was finally succeeding, just as they had always deserved to.

Lyrem was paying them well, as he had promised; not once, had a check bounced. Soon, Arch would have enough saved to rent a place of their own anywhere in the city, from there they would get their own car and finally be free. Out of school and out of the house of horrors, as they would jokingly call it.

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

“What about a dress? Have you thought about a colour?” Their mother’s black hair fell in front of her face as she loaded the dishwasher.

Arch stared at her from the table in the kitchen. They remained calm. It wasn’t an unexpected question, and they had been preparing their answer for some time.

“Rompers are more comfortable,” they said casually. It was as far as they were willing to go to appease the masses for prom night.

Their mother laughed with a strangled amusement.

“A romper? Where on earth will you find a bedazzled romper!?”

Maleficent cried out a whine for more food, distracting the conversation, and muted Arch’s response. Their mother continued.

“We’ll head out tomorrow morning then, find you something just right.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, I work tomorrow.”

“Sunday then. End of story. Pass me your plate, girl.”

Seething, Arch handed over their dishes and left the kitchen in a huffed silence. It was a warm night. The front door shut behind them with a screech, and Arch breathed in the cool night air that left them feeling purified.

Their small, well-worn, house was between several sets of condominiums, shaded by maples that glowed in the twilight hues. Arch walked on until they saw the glimpse of downtown buildings and neon lights of convenience stores that would stay open as long as people were out drinking late and needing a pick-me-up.

Lost in thought, and in some rage, Arch turned down twenty-third avenue. Another several blocks and they would reach the outside of Mystics- not that they particularly wanted to be reminded of work. The shop would have been closed over an hour ago anyway. Lyrem would have been long gone by now. There wouldn’t be any harm peering in as they passed on by.

The streets slowly emptied. Soon, Arch was walking alone. Even the cars that passed became sparse in number. The sun dipped further down, and streetlights clicked on overhead as a roaring thunder carried on from an indiscernible distance to the east.

Narrow alleys passed them by without care. If Arch weren’t so high strung, they’d likely have avoided the area at this time of night. Unfortunately, though, their mother always had this lingering effect on them. An effect that would push them to do great things out of spite. In a way, Arch had to thank her. If it wasn’t for her constant callous preaching, Arch wouldn’t have looked for work so desperately. Perhaps they’d never have met Lyrem.

Speaking of the weird old man, his shops’ lights were still glowing on, glinting against a black street-side car parked near the door. The lights flickered, and shut off.

Arch felt something move behind them. Two steps, then a hand covering their mouth, and a strong arm wrapped itself around one of their arms and their waist. In a panic, Arch threw out one of their elbows, jabbing into the side of the assailant, just under their ribs. Keeping their grunts to a minimum, the assailant lifted Arch off of the ground and pulled them into an alley a couple stores back from the spiritual accessory shop. Knowing they had little weight, Arch continued to use their elbow, as well as their legs, and when they had a split-second chance, Arch bit down painfully hard on the gloved hand that put itself around their mouth.

The assailant couldn’t help but cry out, and he curled his fingers in. Keeping a grip tight around their waist, pulled his hand away and shook it off as it throbbed beneath the gloves.

“You idiot!” The voice hissed. “I’m trying to help you!”

“Get off of me!” Arch commanded them. “I swear to God, man I will rip your throat out next! Let me go- HELP! FI”-

The assailant panicked by throwing Arch against the side of the brick wall and they fell quiet after the sudden smacking sound that their body made. They couldn’t be sure that Arch hit their head, but at least they were stunned enough to stop shouting.

“Are you still awake?”

Arch was piled up in a heap beside the brick wall. Whoever put them there clearly didn’t think they’d do much damage, but they felt a popping sensation in their shoulder, and now a searing pain when they tried to lift it. A bruise was currently forming on their brow bone over their right eye, and a warm sensation was travelling from there and dripping down to the side of their cheek. The assailant tried lifting them to their feet but was met with a strained, tearful cry as they did so.

“I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, but if you want to stay safe, I need you to come with me.” They almost said it like they meant it, Arch thought.

Trying to keep the worst thoughts from their mind, Arch began to bargain with what small amount of coherence they currently had as they were being pulled further into the alleyway to who-knows-where.

“I- I don’t have anything on me, okay? No money- Look, you- you can have my phone, my sneakers whatever, okay, dude? Just leave me alone- don’t hurt me”-

“I need you to be quiet,” he said. “If you’re too loud you’ll attract his attention.”

He led them to a small blue truck, pushing them to the passenger’s side and opened the door.

“Get in.”

Arch’s eyes darted from the seat, to the man and back and forth until the man furtively glanced down the alley.

“I said get in, Arch. Now.”

He drew a knife from his belt. A hunter’s knife. A well-used Bowie; long and wide, and now receiving small raindrops as he stilled it in his hands threateningly. Arch blinked through the onslaught of tears covering their face as they stood there, cornered between the knife and the truck.

The man wasn’t looking at Arch at all. They were looking down the alley, searching for any possible sign of movement. With a push from his forearm, Arch was against the side of the cloth seat. The inside smelled like old leather and rotted wood, and despite everything in their mind telling them to keep fighting, Arch hoisted themselves into the passenger’s side, and winced as the man slammed the truck door beside them.

“Finally,” the man exclaimed as he climbed into the other side. He started the truck.

The darkness was too great still to make out many discernible features of their captor- but even in good lighting, Arch wasn’t brave enough to look at them for too long. The knife was still out, gripped tightly by the driver in his right hand. For some reason, Arch’s mind drifted as the truck began to turn from the alley and onto the main road- they put on their seatbelt.

The man stared at them oddly. He sped up to the speed limit, just slightly going over. The truck fell into a deeply threatening silence as it drove on leaving many questions unasked.

“Where…” Arch started bravely, “are you taking me?”

The man checked his rear-view mirror, and it seemed like he was ignoring the question until he let out a short, relieved breath.

“Somewhere safe.”

It was a silly question, Arch realized this just as they were finished asking it. Any serial killer worth their salt wouldn’t reveal such a thing. Arch sniffed, and used their good arm to test the wound formed over their eye. They pulled away fingers now coated in fresh blood.

The rain was falling harder now. The wipers turned on, rhythmically groaning, keeping time for the two silent guests. The man was taking a turn out of the city, exiting off of one highway and onto another. Lighting struck in the distance.

“Did… Did you take a girl named Jess too?”

Arch was finding their bravery again. The man shook his head.

“No. It was too late for her. Lyrem is usually more meticulous about who he takes and when. Her, and her friends were… unexpected prey.”

Arch’s brows knit together in deep thought, and turned to confusion.

“I- I don’t understand,” they said. “Lyrem from Mystics?”

“It’s not exactly a popular name, kiddo.”

“What are you saying? You think Lyrem took Jess and Kyle and Marcus? Him?” It was almost funny to think about Lyrem trying to lure kids away to some undisclosed location. Hilarious even, if Arch wasn’t just threatened and lured away by knifepoint and being driven to some undisclosed location at that very moment.

“No, I am saying that I know that Lyrem took Jess and Kyle and Marcus. He’s probably killed one of them already. Maybe two after tonight. And you know this too…” the man glanced over to Arch. A look of sympathy stretched across his tired face. “You just don’t remember.”

“I would have remembered that.” Arch determined quietly. The knife rested lightly in the man’s hand now. He was relaxing… slowly. He continued talking to Arch like they were familiar with each other.

“You don’t believe me, and that is perfectly understandable. But haven’t you noticed? Missing time? Confusion? His magic depends on you being compliant. I just don’t know how far he’s gone with you yet. Until I know that, we won’t be able to retrieve the memories you need.” He sighed. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you now, but I promise it will. Have you noticed any injuries on yourself? Any you don’t recall getting from some place else?”

Arch met their gaze and shook their head. They hadn’t really been listening, just eyeing the blade beside them.

“Damn.”

Any further turns and Arch would find it difficult to find their way home. If they were going to make a move on this insane son of a bitch, then they would have to do it now.

Their right arm was useless the way it was sitting, half out and half in the pocket of the joint. Their left hand might be unreliable with aim, but Arch was certain that it would get the job done. Straightening in their seat, they winced. Another bolt shot down from the sky blindingly and shook the vehicle with its power.

In the distraction, Arch pulled the knife up an out from the man’s hand- and with one quick motion, forced themselves over the middle seat. Arch brought the knife down into the top of the man’s right thigh.

He shouted angrily, cursing at them wildly and lost control of the truck. As the blade sank in with a rude amount of force, all care for the current business was abandoned. His leg pressed on the gas as it stretched out for relief of the searing wound, and swerved along the rain-slicked road with frightening speed. Arch released the knife, and braced themselves as the truck spun around, and then launched itself straight into the dark and muddy ditch.

The return of Anti-Cosmo part 2

Part 1

Anti-cosmo stayed in the suite, knowing you had to come back sometime, especially since you told him you were a day out to land. You dreaded coming back to your room but found him on the computer on a social media site.

“Is there a Anti-fairy Facebook page?” you asked sarcastically.

“Anti-Fairies, as well as Fairies, are very well connected believe it or not. You just need to know the right sites to look for. And even then, only magical beings can use it, if you’re mortal you only see a blank page.” He explained, not looking up at you. “Won’t be long now.”

“Won’t be long till what?” you frowned.

“Till my wand comes to me. My subordinates are going to help bring it back here, by magic or whatever means it takes.”

“Where were your subordinates when you were in the safe?” you folded your arms.

“I go off on my own a lot, they probably assumed I was following a chosen victim.” He shrugged and turned away from the screen for a minute to face you.

“Is that how you got in that safe in the first place?” you asked expectantly.

His eye twitches slightly. “Hunting requires risk, surely you know that. They had just set up an…elaborate trap I was completely unprepared for. A descendant from one of my victims. One of the only victims I left alive. No matter, I won’t make the same mistake.” He insisted with dignity.

“Why did you let them live in the first place?” you asked curiously.

He sat quietly before picking up a pencil and started doodling on a nearby notebook. He drew a young girl with ringlets and a frilly dress. She looked almost like a sweet porcelain doll.

“My perfect little Doll…in her perfect little dollhouse...” he said fondly.

“Why did she need your help if she was perfect?” you frowned.

“Her family was so painfully flawed, she was trying to save them from their own stupid actions.” He explained. “Then one day, she decided she was done cleaning up after them, left to make her own perfect house, and sent me away. Most of the time my victims call me back, whether conscious or in their hearts, but she never did. The last I saw her was at a ball she threw. I had a lovely time.” He said, looking at the pictures longingly before starting to sketch another woman.

“Who’s that?”

“She was my date to that ball…” he sighed. “I actually might have fallen in love with her…alas, she was human and it didn’t last. I probably could have granted her my immortality but…” he sighed and set down the pencil. He glanced at the computer screen, looking for a response or message for him.

“But…?” you asked expectantly.

He sighed at your persistence, but smiled. “She slit her wrists one night. Humans have such limited mental capacities, and Misfortune follows in my wake. It was probably inevitable.”

“You couldn’t bring her back with magic?” you asked curiously.

“I am not so cruel, I let the dead stay dead. After all, there are plenty of living to choose from.” He shrugged.

He stayed by the computer for the rest of the trip to the harbor. You found a trench coat to wear that you cut the bottom off to fit him better, and hide the fact that he wasn’t wearing pants. You felt he was your responsibility and lead him to your penthouse in the busy metropolis.

“My my my, not such a fancy pants that you own your own place eh? Just a simple flat?” he teased.

“It’s the best you can get in such a place jack*beep*.” You glared. “Besides it’s not my only one, and I do have a house, just not here.”

“Boring.” He rolled his eyes and checked the phone you gave him to monitor his messages. So far there was still nothing, making him huff.

“Alright now, what is there to do around here?” he asked carelessly.

“Why don’t you go check out my closet? You’d look lovely in one of my ball gowns.” You smirked as you greeted your cat.

Anti-Cosmo rose an eyebrow. “You’re just jealous cause I probably would.” He mumbled. “I doubt you have my color.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself. Like, what’s with the Anti in front of everything?”

“We are Anti-Fairy dear, we are the equal and opposite forces of the regular fairies. Spelling our names backwards to prove that doesn’t always work. For some it does, but it’s often just easier to say Anti.” He stated simply.

“What, so there’s a regular fairy version of you?”

Anti-cosmo cringed slightly. “He’s an absolute idiot. A goodie goodie nuisance to all he meets. I want nothing to do with him.”

“So if you’re opposites, and you’re the annoying one…” you smirked as he shot you a glare. “Also, if you’re an all powerful magical being, why do you need to drink human blood?”

“Mostly to prevent a magic crash.” He shrugged.

“A what?” you frowned.

“Oh dear, do I need to explain what a crash is?” he sighed.

“No I know how drugs work.”

“Not those kind of drugs!” he insisted with annoyance. “I told you I am full of magic in my veins, correct? So are Fairies. Only they can only let so much build up before exploding. So it’s just called ‘magical build up’. They use the wands and become godparents to help expel the magic as well as do, what they hope is good, by making children happy.” He said with disgust.

“And you what? Use your build-up for evil?”

“Have you not been listening? I am the equal and complete opposite power that is my fairy counterpart! Meaning, my magic regenerates when used, but it is usually at max capacity, that’s normal for an anti-fairy. That being said, when I cast a spell, it takes longer to build back up. If I use too much magic, I will run out, causing a magical crash.”

“Do you explode from mortality?” you teased.

“No.” he huffed then stayed quiet for a minute. “…I implode. It is reversible so it’s not possibly to kill us that way.”

“And you drinking blood comes into play where?”

“I’ve discovered that nothing makes ones magic regenerate faster than human blood.” He licked his lips. “ESEPCIALLY the blood of the misfortunate. Just the thought of meeting a poor soul who’s never succeeded in anything makes my mouth water! Anyways, I always use magic, for everything, so it’s convenient to have a blood supply nearby. However I doubt you’ll have the same effect, so after I get my wand back I will be bidding you a fond farewell.”

“Sounds just fine to me.” You huffed.

“So, what to do till then?” Anti-Cosmo said thoughtfully. “Go to a rave? Go night shopping? Hunt for ghosts in the park~?” he smirked and waved his fingers at you.

“How about sleep? It’s been a long exciting day and I’m exhausted.” You huffed and started getting ready for bed.

“Oh, you can sleep when you’re dead!” he whined and pulled at your sleeve.

“Why don’t you get back online and catch up on the past 15 years worth of memes?” you said and got into bed.

“Oh please, nothing could be funnier than the troll faces that say “u mad?”” he waved his hand at you.

“Oh buddy, you’ve got a lot to learn.” You smirked and went to sleep.

He stared at your sleeping form, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Soon my sweet…so I will have my way with you, you lovely immortal thing~” He licked his lips. He then checked for messages for his lackies and found nothing. “*BEEP*.” He pouted.

In the morning, you laid on your back and Anti-Cosmo was flouting above you. You frowned at the sight of his face and turned over. “Its bad enough I’ve had to deal with you till late last night, but now you have to flout over me while I’m asleep like a creeper?” you huffed.

“What can I say? You enchant me.” He said and started walking his fingers up your back. You shivered and swatted his hand away.

“Still nothing from your people?” you asked and sat up

He sighed and leaned back. “No…which is really odd.”

“Maybe you can try again? Post something else?”

“That would make me look whiny and desperate, then more of them would be less inclined to help me.” He huffed. “Besides, I’d much rather wait and possibly get some breakfast.” He said, looking at you hungrily.

“Oh for crying out…don’t even think about it!” you glared and got up. “You want blood, you’ve got to go to the fridge for a bloodbag.” You said as you walked to the closet.

“People healthy enough to donate blood rarely have enough misfortune to satisfy me.” He pouted.

“Boo hoo, you’ll have to have your cocktails AIDS-free then.” You rolled your eyes. “And if that’s the case, my blood would be nowhere near satisfying.”

“You think living eternally alone is a blessing?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. This did stop you in your tracks.

He drifted towards you, suddenly shrinking down and sitting on your shoulder. “Come on now, you got to taste my blood! I’ve never had Vampire blood before, I’m curious!” he urged.

You hesitated dispute knowing you’d get no benefit from this exchange, as well as you know darn well you owed him nothing. Before you could decide however, a ding came from the phone on the bedside.

Anti-Cosmo zoomed to it, growing to his original size as he snatched it up and read the notification. His mouth grew to a twisted grin, his eyes shimmering with joy.

“Ah, Anti-Juandissimo, you never fail me dear friend.” He smirked.

He suddenly stood up and held up his hand. A black wand with a star at the end appeared in his blue skinned hand. His face broke into a villainous grin as he spun it around and gave it a wave. Magic erupted from it and made his old clothes appear on his body, but they were new and pristine. His monocle returned, dangling from his earlobe before swinging up to it’s place over his eye. Small silver jewelry were placed on his clothes, ear, and wing. Lastly a bowler hat flouted above his hair.

He sighed with relief and stretched slightly. “Yes…perfect. I feel whole again~”

“You look like a Magical girl transforming.” You chuckled.

He looked back at you before waving his wand at you. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, smoke surrounded you, and your clothes changed into a vampire themed Magical girl outfit. Short skirt, a cape, even little bat wings on your head. Your costume was also adorned in silver jewelry and mirrored Anti-Cosmo’s black and blue.

“There, now we match.” He smirked.

You tried to pull the skirt down to cover your legs. “What the *Beep*?!” you yelled at him.

“What? You look cute~ oh yes, I have a wish to grant, be right back.” He grinned and vanished.

You huffed in irritation and immediately started stripping the cutesie outfit off. “What an *beep*!” you whispered angrily. “I thought he was awful before the wand…”

Part 3

You love him more than me; Tony Stark x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Wow it has been a long while since I posted anything Marvel related on here hasn’t it? But this request came to me literally last year on Wattpad so I figured now that I’ve finally gotten around to writing it, as well as having it be on Wattpad, I thought I’d let you guys here on tumblr read it too.

Warnings: BULLYING IS HEAVILY MENTIONED (don’t be an asshole and bully people, whether physical, verbal or cyber, it’s a total DICK move), angst, father-daughter fights, but some fluff in the end? 

Anyways my lovelies until the next update :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

_______________________________________________________________

I just don’t see it. Why would he go pick someone else? Ever since the fight with uncle Steve, my dad’s always been on the fence when it comes to either him or the accords.  But when the fight in Germany happened, he went ahead and picked some random kid off the streets of Queens to fight alongside him and the rest of ‘Team Ironman’.

Now he barely acknowledges me anymore.  Hell it’s like I’m invisible girl now or something. Either way I hate it, all of it. And I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate Peter Parker for ruining my life.  It’s like he’s trying to take my dad away just when I need him the most.

Like today for example when I was targeted by the most obnoxious asshole in all of Midtown School (yeah I go to the same school that Parker goes to all thanks to my dad) Flash Thompson.  God he was such an asshole and a jerk I don’t even know why he’s the popular guy, just because his daddy’s got some money doesn’t mean he can act like an asshole.  

Hell my dad’s three times richer than his pops is, and he’d have to work for another 50 years just to get to where my dad’s wealth is.

So anyways today Flash thought it was a good idea to announce to the whole entire school during gym that while Parker had claimed a ‘Stark Internship’ with my dad, that meant that I was getting kicked out of the family and being replaced.

The entire school mocked me for it started calling me ‘the bastard child’ as a Jon Snow reference (even though I am a Stark by blood) and I tried to compose myself and not cry in front of the whole school for the entire day.

When the hellish day finally ended, I was quiet in the car as Happy drove me back towards the newly remodeled Avenger’s facility where my dad had us living from now on since he sold Stark Towers.

“You okay back there (y/n)?” asked Happy.

“I’m fine Happy just drive. No more questions either.” I didn’t mean to snap at him, really I didn’t but I was just so angry right now that I just wanted today to be over with.  Maybe I can blow off some steam in the gym.  Training always seems to calm my anger down.

When we finally arrived at the newly remodeled Avengers facility, the second Happy stopped the car, I jumped right out and raced straight towards the gym.  I threw my backpack to the wall of the gym and got on my boxing gloves and went up to the closest punching bag.

Immediately I began to take off all my anger out on the bag, all the while hearing the taunts of my peers.  Flash’s voice making the announcement, the laughing, the teasing and the Jon Snow comparisons.  Each punch was harder than the last as I now began to picture Parker’s ugly face in the punching bag.  God he infuriated me so much I just wanna……it was then I had actually punch the punching bag so hard that it ended up being blasted away.

I took off my glove and saw that my emergency Iron angel glove had materialized and shot out the automatic repulsor blast. With sweat dripping down my forehead and my heavy breathing I deactivated the glove when a voice said.

“The only other person to destroy a punching bag was Steve, should I be worried?”

“No Uncle Rhodey, there’s no need to call an emergency lockdown.”

“Good. Everything okay?” he asked me.  I turned towards him to see him walking towards me.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Uh-huh because that punching bag ends up like that on a good day with you.” he answered sarcastically.

“Gee anymore smartass comments you got left?”

“Hey you better watch your mouth little missy less you want you dad to get involved in this.” I scoffed.

“Go ahead, tell him. He doesn’t care about me anymore anyways.”

“What was that?”

“Oh you didn’t hear? Apparently dad’s replacing me with a male version of me.”

“Now wait hold on a second (y/n),” uncle Rhodey started off as he placed a comforting hand to my shoulder. “Your dad loves you beyond anything else.”

“Yeah, used to love me. Now ever since Germany he’s always around Parker. He hardly notices me anymore. And do you know the hell I’ve had to endure because of that?”

“Bullies?” I turned away from him and shut my eyes as tight as I could to hold back the tears. “Who all has bullied you at the school?”

“What can you do about it?”

“I’ll call the school and tell them to get the kids responsible for this to be punished.”

“Like that ever really works. They’re just gonna get warnings and tell us to work it out.”

“Not if they hear it from me.”

“You know what forget I said anything. I appreciate the help uncle Rhodey but there’s nothing that not even you can do. I’ve got homework that needs to be done.” I tossed my other boxing glove away and grabbed my backpack and left the gym and locked myself up in my bedroom for the rest of the day.

The next day it was my lunch period.  I was currently eating the ham and cheese sandwich I had picked out when I heard Flash’s obnoxious voice exclaimed.

“And lookie what we got here! The female Jon Snow. How’s it hanging out in the house of Stark?”

“I’m not in the mood Flash.”

“Oh c’mon Snow. Can’t take the newbie Penis Parker moving on in and kicking you to the curb?”

“Flash I’m serious stop it.”

“Nah I don’t think I will. It’s sad that Penis Parker found your dad, seems like the great Tony Stark wanted a son more than a daughter.” Okay that’s where I drew the line.  Something snapped inside me as my glove materialized around my right hand and I fired a shot right at Flash’s chest sending him flying across the cafeteria.

All the kids who had the same lunch period I did were all in shock at what I had just done.  After realizing what I had just done, I immediately knew that I was screwed.

I was sitting outside of the principal’s office and I could hear the principal talking with my dad about my punishment and how the school doesn’t accept this type of bullying (he’s the one to talk, Flash started it).  I didn’t hear a word out of my dad other than some yeah’s or uh-huh, before finally ending with a ‘okay she’ll be dealt with.’  The door opened and I just looked up at him through my lashes.

“Care to explain?” I remained silent. “You know what, I don’t even have time for this. Get in the car.”

“So you’re really not gonna even try to hear me out?”

“Not here, just go to the car.” He demanded as he forced me onto my feet and shoved me towards the exit.  We got into the car and it was just dead silent.  Happy tried to relieve the tension by asking us random things like the weather or just what the principal wanted to talk about.

Of course my dad told him to drop it and just keep driving.  Finally after what felt like hours we arrived at the facility and just like the other day, I stormed into the facility.

“Hold it right there young lady we’re not done talking about this!”

“Well I am!”

“Friday initiate protocol Birdcage.”

‘Yes boss.’ It was then the living room was now sealed up and I couldn’t enter anywhere else.  I was now trapped like a bird in a cage.

“Friday deactivate protocol Birdcage.” I demanded. But nothing happened. “Friday I said deactivate dad’s protocol.”

“No can do kiddo, see I had Friday deny any further action unless given from me when it comes to protocol Birdcage.” I groaned and sat down on the couch. “Now you are gonna explain to me just why you used your Iron angel glove against an innocent civilian?”

“I would hardly call Flash innocent.”

“No this is where you zip it! Okay the adult is talking? What if he had died from that blast? Okay cause that falls on you. And if you get accused for—heroine misdeeds on a civilian. The accords will be affected and—I already lost half of my family. I can’t afford to lose my flesh and blood.”

“That’s the first time you’ve even acknowledged me in the past three months.”

“What?”

“Oh c’mon! You’re Tony freakin Stark! Genius, playboy, philanthropist, billionaire you of all people can’t be that stupid. You’ve never been there for me!”

“What are you—”

“No! Not this time! This time you’re gonna listen to me! Ever since Peter came into the picture it seems like I didn’t matter! I didn’t matter to you anymore!” All the rage, the sorrow, the pain that I have been feeling for months were finally being released.  

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes but I refused to let them fall.  

“And with Peter blabbing on about the superhero business but disguising it to your little secret ‘internship’. The other kids at my school call me the female Jon Snow cause now I’m the bastard’s child. Flash has made me a fucking living meme and I hate it! It’s your fault. It’s both your faults. I should’ve sided with Steve when I had the chance.”

Silence rang out from the room as I collapsed onto the leather seat beside me and turned my back on my dad.  Shoulder’s shaking and heel tapping aggressively with anxiety on the floor.  I felt a hand gently take my mine and I looked up to see my father, his eyes showing for the first time since the Avenger’s breakup, sorrow and regret.

“(Y/n).” he started off. “Baby girl I—I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. You love Parker more than me.”

“Now that is not true.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I snarked sarcastically.

“(N/n). I—things haven’t been easy since…..the Avengers splitting. And pushing you away was—the last thing I wanted to do.” I gave him my best glare. “I’m not doing so great right now am I?”

“Not even close.”

“I know. I’ve never been so good at these types of talks. But I need you to know something sweetheart. Just because the kid is looking at to be the next Avenger, that doesn’t mean he’s replacing you. Because he’s gonna need someone who knows the game inside and out and that’s you. My Iron Angel. One day I’m not gonna be here, and I need to make sure I can count on you to be the leader the next Avengers need, should the time come.” My glare softened and I looked down at my feet.

“Then why did you have to make it seem that Parker was your long lost son that you never had?”

“I should never have let that on. And that boy uhh—Flash is it? I’m gonna deal with that shitshow as well as anyone else that has bullied you.”

“With what? Bribes? A chance to work at Stark Industries? Blackmail? No offense dad but they don’t care. All they care about is making hell for me. So don’t even bother cause nothing will work. Not even the faculty is good enough to see someone being bullied and harassed and they don’t do a damn thing about it!” I breathed sharply before finally finishing out in a choked tone, “Now tell Friday to cancel Birdcage protocol. I’m done with this.”

“Friday, do as she says.”

‘Yes boss.’ Soon the living room opened and I immediately ran up the stairs for my room and slammed my door shut before locking it.  Immediately I went into my bed and just buried myself under the covers and allowed the tears to fall down my face, until I had cried myself to sleep.

A weeks passed after that whole Flash incident and I was finally relieved of my suspension.  But unlike any other day, the entire school was called in for an assembly.  Which was weird cause we only have assemblies when it comes to new students coming in, graduations, or special guests coming in to do a seminar.

I was sitting on my own but for some reason Parker and his friend were sitting just several seats away from me.  It was then the principal came up and he said into the microphone on the stand.

“Good morning students. I know this assembly was short notice but this will be worth it. Now I would like to bring to the stage our honorary guest who would like to say a few words in regard to something very important. Please give a warm Midtown High welcome to Mr. Tony Stark.” What the f—the students soon went crazy as my dad soon came up onto the stage.

“I LOVE YOU TONY STARK!!” I heard Flash proclaim out just a few rows in front of me.

“Thank you Midtown High. Now I’m assuming you all are thinking I’ve come here to shine a light on a new opportunity for an internship or chance to let Stark Industry do a funding on your latest project. Sadly, you’d be wrong.” At that moment the students were all murmured amongst each other. “Instead I wanna bring up a serious matter. And that’s bullying. When I was a kid—I was picked on as a child. People always compared me to my dad and—it hurt me. As I got older and threw my life away through parties and drugs. Word of the wise don’t ever do them, this was back in the 70’s when they were new and fresh, we were stupid back then our fault.”

“Oh god dad why?” I muttered to myself as I rubbed my hand against my face in annoyance.

“Anyways back on track. Bullying is not cool. Now I know nowadays that physical bullying isn’t all the rage like it was, now it’s through the internet. Or Verbally calling someone out, spreading rumors about them. See I’ve fought against people I’ve trusted, psychotic gods with daddy issues, mad aliens, and sociopathic robots, but the one true villain is right in front of you when you look into a mirror. Any one of you that has taken part even just for a fraction of a second of spreading a rumor, if you know your friend’s in on the bullying that makes you an accomplice because you didn’t speak up. And bullies—they’re just about the worst super villain anyone could ever face. Thank you.” the auditorium was dead silent.

So quiet in fact I think I could hear water leaking from the faucet outside.

“Well, thank you Mr. Stark for raising such an awareness to an issue that we here at Midtown High take very seriously.” Yeah right. As I watched my dad go backstage, I got out of my seat and slipped out the nearest exit and ran down the hall to catch him leaving for the backdoors.

“So that was it?” he stopped and turned towards me.

“Well I figured that I’d pull a little guilt trip on them. It worked all the time with you when you were little and make them feel bad about what they had done without naming any names. If you’d like I could’ve just full out embarrassed you, had you come up on stage and tell them all how much I love and adore you and—”

“Alright, alright I get it! Thank god you didn’t.” I lightly scoffed. “I still can’t believe you willingly did that.”

“You know I would do anything for you. You’re my little girl (n/n). And I am always, always, always gonna love you. No matter what. And just to prove it to you, next time I go out of line like that, you have my full permission to blast me with that glove of yours.” He said as he came up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing them.

“Can’t I just do it now and cash it in?”

“Nice try.”

“Worth a shot.” He softly chuckled and brought me into a tight bear hug.

“I love you (y/n). I hope you know that.”

“I do now, thanks dad.”

Hi, yes, hello beautiful! Can you write a fic where MC accidentally sends Ethan her entire fanfic folder by mistake 😂🤣

How To Get Away With Fanfiction

I’m reliving my embarrassment 😭 but it is done and idk wtf happened with this lmao. This is also to make up for earlier kmjhygfd

Only tagging @ao719 @oofchoices @loveellamae @burnsoslow because no one else should have to read this unless they click on the read more and if they do... god bless. And thank you to Maroe for helping me come up with some of these ideas!

It had been a long day at work when Dr. Gertrude-Sue Claws made her way home to do the one thing that relaxed her; writing fanfiction.

She had thought of the perfect idea for Spirit and Rainbow Dash and her fingers flew across the keyboard.

There was something about the multi colors in his mane and tail that drew him to her. He lived by the phrase, “hump ‘em and dump ‘em,” which he planned on doing with Rainbow Dash, but not without consent because horse jail wasn’t fun. He had heard the horror stories from his human friends, Kurns and Bryce.

“Rainbow Dash,” he neighed.

“Spirit…” She neighed back in response, she knew all about his...extracurricular activities. He was the biggest fuck horse out of the herd. Ever since Rain had died from drowning, god bless, he hadn’t been the same. It was also why he paid more attention to Rainbow Dash because she had Rain in the first part of her name.

“Let’s do this,” he smirked with his horse mouth.

“Fine…” She turned her back to him as he reared on his hind legs and mounted her, letting out a series of neighs.

She laughed silently to herself before moving on her Owen Hunt fic and she knew how much she was going to enjoy this one especially.

Owen was walking through the halls when he saw five women stalking towards him like cats, one even had whiskers drawn on her face. “Anitah with the h, get him!” He heard one of them command and watched as she came up to him, kicking him in no man's land. He felt them drag him into an empty exam room.

“MAROE! You got the chainsaw?”

“Nah bruh, Bears and Rams were in charge of that,” she explained.

Anything but Krista, cocked her half shaved eyebrow at Burns and Ella. “Y’all got the chainsaw?”

“No, but I have the cream for the burn I’m about to inflict,” Burns snickered to herself at her own joke, the others joining in before getting back to business.

“Burns, Ella, go scope out the cafeteria for some good food because I can’t kill in good faith on an empty stomach and as me and Ella say, we always get food first,” Anything but Krista said, turning her attention to the two people left, throwing them both a knife. Then proceeded to stab Owen numerous times, but making sure not to hit any major organs yet.

“We need a blender,” Anitah with the h announced.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Anything but Krista and MAROE said at the same time, looking at each other and bursting into laughter at the jinx.

“If that was making a human smoothie, then yes. We’ll show him that no one messes with Derek Christopher Shepherd,” Anitah with the h said smugly, pulling a blender out from behind her back and plugging it into the wall.

“You...you pulled that out of your jacket?” MAROE asked in a surprising tone.

“Y’all don’t keep blenders in yours?” Anitah with the h asked as if that wasn’t common, but it was good to know that she was always prepared.

Suddenly, the walkie talkie came to life, “Team Bears/Rams to Team CA, what y’all want from here? Over and out.”

“Team CA to Team Bears/Rams, we want CookOut. Over and out.” Anything but Krista responded. “It’s about time y’all tried a little piece of heaven,” she looked at Anitah with the h and MAROE.

“That’s a negative ghost rider, the closest CookOut is on the other side of the country. Over and out.”

“Well you better get on your way because you two also need to try a little piece of heaven, we’ll save the good stuff for when you get back. Over and out.” The trio resumed their slice and dice game, taking a short break to play Choices because the latest chapter of The Nanny Affair had just been released and even Owen wasn’t going to keep them away from Sam Dalton.

A couple hours later, Burns and Ella arrived with the food, handing out their respective trays to their respective orderers, they were able to keep the milkshakes from melting by their cold hearts.

“Ahhh gimme my milkshake,” Anything but Krista snatched it from Burns’ hand, earning a slap on her hand from her adoptive mother and a threat of taking away her pony...again.

“Yooo this shake hits different,” Ella exclaimed.

“You could even say that it slaps,” MAROE added making her squeak.

“It’s the one good thing North Carolina has to offer for me,” Anything but Krista chimed in, fist bumping Anitah with the h because the struggle was real. The cows really did outnumber the people, they just hoped that there wouldn’t be a cow revolution because that would be awful except the yeehaw folk would probably survive since they did have a song called “A Country Boy Can Survive.” 

“Burns, we left you the honor of picking the perfect weather for us to dispose of the body which is more like liquid at this point. We need rain, thunder, and lightning to erase all of the evidence. Watching “Forensic Files” has finally come in handy. And Ella, we need you to pretend to be a nurse or something to help us get out of here. I’ll be honest, I haven’t thought that far ahead…” Anything but Krista admitted, but they expected that from her so they already had a plan in place.

“If anyone happens to see Derek Shepherd, I ask that you tell me,” MAROE added.

“Not if I find him first,” Anything but Krista said.

“He’s like fifty four years old…” Burns said being ever the good adoptive mother.

“Then I call Spencer Reid!” Anything but Krista exclaimed.

“I have Lucifer then,” MAROE challenged knowing that would get under her skin. 

“Children, calm yourselves.” Burns shook her head.

“Hey, I’ll be eighteen in like a number amount of months,” Anything but Krista said.

“I’ll be eighteen before you,” MAROE said, sticking out her tongue.

“I’Ll Be EiGhTeEn BeFoRe YoU,” she repeated, placing her hands on her hips and doing that Spongebob meme. After thinking of a better comeback, she grabbed her knife she used on Owen earlier and plunged it into MAROE’s back.

“Et tu, Brute?” MAROE said with shock in her voice before her body crumpled on the ground.

“Yes, bye bitch.”

The other three just stared as the blood drained from her body before turning their attention to Anything but Krista. They were the epitome of 👁👄👁.

“What? She wanted to “due” anyway. And at her funeral we can play “To Be So Lonely” because well she will be lol.”

“Anywaysss, we gonna get food or what?” Ella asked as she covered Owen’s body with a sheet.

“Wings?” Burns suggested and they all agreed. After arriving at the restaurant, they were very shocked to see MAROE sitting at a table waiting for them.

“It’s the trying to kill me for me,” she said upon taking their seats, glaring at Anything But Krista specifically.

“It’s the stealing my fictional husbands for me,” she retaliated.

“It’s the acting like children for me,” Burns' authoritative voice came.

“Sorry,” they both murmured as they looked over the menus to order their food. The rest of their lunch going smoothly, their victims already forgotten about. Don’t mess with hangry chicks who hate Owent Cunt.

“So who’s next?” Anitah with the h asked.

“Ahh you’ve gotten the first taste of blood and now you’re addicted,” Burns observed. She would make for a good profiler for the FBI at Quantico. She would have a cool nickname; Cunt Punter.

“Why not just kill everyone we hate?” Ella questioned.

“That’s a great idea! I say we kill Guy and Vanessa,” Anything but Krista suggested.

“And Landrat!” MAROE added, the whole group agreeing, finishing their lunch before getting to their killing spree.

Gertrude-Sue was laughing at her made up characters and story when she received an email from Ethonk Remy to send him a folder that she had. Goggle Drive was acting stupid so she didn’t realize that she had shared her fanfiction folder with her boss before it was too late. She saw a little giraffe pop up in the right hand corner telling her that he was already viewing what was inside the folder.

“Holy donkey claws,” she cried out loud, smacking her hands against her face.

Meanwhile, Ethonk was going through her folder when he came across a document and his eyes went wide. “What are they doing with the dog?” He said to himself.

Wonder pets, wonder pets

We're on our way

To help a friend and save the day

We're not too big

And we're not too tough

But when we work together, we've got the right stuff

Gooo wonder pets yaaaaay!

The phone

The phone is ringing

The phone

We'll be right there

The phone

The phone is ringing

There's an animal in trouble

There's an animal in trouble

There's an animal in trouble somewhere

“What the hell are Wonder Pets?” He continued inspecting the different documents ranging from murder of one Owen Cunt, horses having sexual intercourse, Wonder Pets stuff, four kids and a dog where they did questionable things with each other, a sponge and a starfish were high on marijuana, a game where Gertrude-Sue had made him and her a family that looked way too realistic for his liking, two bunnies who kept hopping around with one of their little brothers, and multiple documents about Matthew Gray Gubler, Tom Holland, Tom Ellis, Patrick Dempsey, and Harry Styles which were all quite disturbing.

He took out his phone to call her. “Hey uh, Gert, what is this?”

“Oh well you see, the funny thing is that I accidentally sent you the wrong folder so if you could just pretend like this never happened, that would be fantastic. Okay thanks bye. I’m sending you the right one this time.” And she hung up, ready to throw herself off a cliff at her stupidity.

One thing was for sure, she would never make this mistake again.

Tagged by @shinkimiope thank u <333

1. Why did you choose your url?

I've had it since my deviantart days. I was getting frustrated that all of my ideas for usernames were already taken (I was starting to think the site was bugged lol) so in a fit of anger I typed it just because. It ended up not being taken so I just used it lol

2. Any side blogs?

I have an art sideblog @slavhew because i didn't want to terminally bore people with posting tons of memes in between art

an old gravity falls sideblog I don't use, it's more like an archive now.

Two defunct really old blogs that I should delete but don't want to

A hidden side for "riskier" reblogs which means anything I deem too edgy or explicit for my main lol

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Joined at the tail end of 2015 to enjoy the Undertale fandom at the time

4. Do you have a queue tag?

I do, it's #q

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I wanted to have fun online again and my old accounts were full of bad memories. I also wanted to have a more direct source for fan content other than just reposts

6. Why did you choose your icon?

I drew it on my phone as a meme for a friend and ended up having it for too long to change it lol. Pyke says you're (I'm) a heretic.

7. Why did you choose your header?

I like fires I thought it was pretty

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

It's probably the meme I made making fun of my instrument when I was frustrated that it couldn't play low tones jdjfmdmf. It's got a thousand-somethign notes now

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Uuu I really don't keep track. Mostly cause I've had everyone around for a long time and we more often than not passively follow eachother djjcjdx

10. How many followers do you have?

661

11. How many people do you follow?

1215

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Many times but rarely takes off. My art shitpost on side are a bit more popular jsbfjdf.

13. How much do you use tumblr every day?

My usage rises proportionally to how much I'm procrastinating and how shit i feel. Its a good distraction and to mitigate that I usually put stuff into queue so people don't get a barrage of posts otherwise I'd consistently be hitting post limit

14. Did you have a fight/ argument with other blog once? Who won?

Every so often I feel like causing problems on purpose. Most arguments dont really have a conclusion. One radfem insisting women can't be evil that deactivated by the end of it, someone trying to mobilize the aro community to stop "problematic content" (it was peppered with 'save the children' and stupid arguments. They said "free blocklist in notes" then hid my reply from them because I called them out on their homophobic myopic arguments). Misc other stuff thru the years. C'est la vie.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

We are all tired. We all have actual lives and use social media as an escape. If I catch you reblogging more than one of those I'm straight up going to unfollow, I will not have a wall of text guilt tripping me when I can't do anything to help in the first place. Fuck you.

16. Do you like tag games?

I do but I'm forgetful sometimes and it gets buried in my drafts :[

17. Do you like ask games?

I do but due to the nature of my blog even when I reblog them I don't really get any bdbgnnd

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I know for a fact that at least one of them is Tumblr famous in two fandom circles. It's still kinda funny that they follow me on not one but two blogs even after we don't really share those fandoms and I enjoy seeing them on my dash :)

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I don't do crushes but I am very good friends with a few people outside of Tumblr too and I think it shows from how often I tag them ajndkxmckc.

20. Tags?

@lemonykleonella @its-me-ej @mingominnie @mediasploshion @shroomberton and whoever sees it and wants to feel free to say I tagged you, nobody will know >:)