#hopeless--geek

[theblackestofsuns]

“Hopeless Geeks”

Heartbreak Soup (2007)

Gilbert Hernandez

Fantagraphics Books

#Heartbreak Soup #Love & Rockets #Gilbert Hernandez #Fantagraphics Books #Great Comics #Great Comic Art #Hopeless Geeks

[luveline]

if you are taking suggestions, I would love to see a steve zombie!AU blurb!!

for you my love, steve zombie au — the college collapse and the fallout afterwards. fem!reader, 5k words tw for zombie apocalypse typical violence and gore, cuts/bruises, mentioned extreme violence/death, mentioned sexual assault (implied to have been attempted, no graphic description), hurt/comfort

You can hear people crying from the quad. 

You don't blame them if they look anything like you right now. Your hands are crusted with blood, your knees more cut than skin. Evidence of the dead marrs the floor, and evidence of the living stains the walls, black gore streaks across the linoleum and bullet holes like inverted stars in the walls, backlit by the bonfire lit in the centre of the quad.

There hasn't been a shot in hours. Still, you hide, and still, you bite your tongue to stop from crying. Crying isn't going to help. 

A familiar sound echoes from the east. A geek, the undead monsters that haunt what's left of the world, groans and sputters somewhere you can't see. Your skin crawls —sounds bound off of the tiled floor and walls, and in the dark you fail to pinpoint the exact origin. The smell of carrion is pervasive. You can't stay here. When the sun rises, you'll be plainly visible to foe rather than friend; raiders and geeks are waiting for morning to find you and whoever else survived. You have no choices, no weapons, nothing more than the clothes on your back. 

By now, the dormitory that you called your bedroom will have been seized, your meagre possessions gone. Each precious gift, every book and blanket. You'll never get to see it again. All those memories–

You bite your tongue again. The pain doesn't count for much. You're already in agony. Your lungs ache from screaming, from running harder than you've ever run, and you've been cut from head to toe by shards of glass. You're in the worst state you've ever been in minus one risky head injury, but you're far from hopeless. 

You've prepared for this. You know what you need to do. You'll do more than crawl across glass if it means you can reach the rendezvous point by morning. 

Taking quick, terrified breaths, you bounce to your feet and hold out an arm. It's a bad strategy. If you get bit, you can't fix it. You don't have a knife, and if you did you don't have the nerve to amputate yourself. But your choices are to lead via hand or face, and hand seems wiser. You step over slippery tile in your ill-fitting shoes until you find a wall, your panting echoed back at you. 

The sobbing has stopped. An eerie quiet takes its place. Something bad has happened. 

Something bad already happened. Something is over. 

You freeze when you hear chuckling. It's quiet but unquestionable. 

Who could laugh? After seeing the carnage of the cafeteria? The bodies lining the east gate? 

The pitch blackness wanes the closer you get to the door. A rogue tear races down your cheek as you squint against the flickering firelight. There's a herd of men standing at the pit of the quad, warming their hands with the spoils of the lives of the hundred who found shelter here. You hide your body behind the wall, the glass door of the gym you'd been secluded in stuck half open. They likely hadn't meant to, but the raiders tripped the electricity, and it hasn't come back on since. It likely won't come on ever again. 

You squeeze through the door, so afraid of being out in the open that it makes you physically retch. 

You rag your body through the door and wince at the deep gouges it feels like it leaves behind. Your knees don't want to bend, they're so shredded, but you've no choice but to sprint to the side of the gym, and then the fallen gates, and the treeline behind it. 

You step over the heavy metal gates that once protected you slowly. Each grind of fence into the asphalt below feels like a siren call. 

The only light is the orange flicker of the fire cast between the trees like grabbing fingers. You step in the shadows, flinching at every snapping branch under your feet, every dry leaf. You don't look back —you can't. You're terrified of what you'll see. 

Please, you think, over and over, a prayer if there's ever been one, please, please. You're so afraid of not getting what you're asking for that you can't finish the sentence. Your head is a loop of pleading, begging, offers to someone who isn't listening. 

I'll never complain. I will never wonder why. I won't cry, or ache, or so much as sigh. So please. 

It happened at dinner. The entire community, what felt like every member of The College gathered in one place for 'thanksgiving dinner'. There was thanks to be said, sure, but nothing that aligned with the original celebration. Thank you for a place to call home. Thank you for the meal. Thank you for a safe haven. Thank you for– 

But a shot rang outside. 

Heads bobbed. Adults and children alike shifted at the cafeteria tables to try and see which of the patrolling gate guards had needed to fire. 

It was like rain after that. Pop pop pop. 

You grip the present like a bouy and hold on tight. You can't think about what happened while you're still in it. The fear will paralyse you. 

Your shoe steps onto something soft. You look down though you don't want to, and it's too dark now to make it out. You bend at the waist and let out an involuntary whine at the pain that lances up your abdomen. 

It's a blanket. You don't think it's one of yours, though you had so many you can't be sure. It's green and rough and the best protection on offer. You wrap it around your shoulders and keep walking. 

You know where you are only because it has been drilled into you so thoroughly. 

I'll meet you at the bottom of the hill… Do you remember, we ate vegetable soup and dumplings cold? It was the best meal we'd had in months. 

"Oh, fuck," you say, losing the strength in your legs. You grasp at the rough trunk of a tree and gasp for air. You can't breathe, you can't think. "Fuck." 

Your sniffling whispers are lost in the wind. 

"I don't think I can do this," you mouth. 

I promise I'll meet you there. 

"I can't." 

But you have to. You can see it all laid out in front of you. Eating sour cherries on the floor, bare-legged and brimming with love, his hand on your straggly knee. His hand on your back, guiding you through doorways and under tree branches. His hand on your cheek, your shoulder, your thigh. 

His hand in yours, a hundred miles of highway behind you. Pulling you along. 

You walk for what feels like hours but can't be so long. Your shoes are doing more harm than good, blisters like pebbles on your heels and toes. You step out of them and carry them down the hill, grass sharp under the soles of your feet. The socks you wear are threadbare. 

You hadn't realised you'd have to do this, and that was a mistake. You could've been prepared for this; you should've been carrying a knife in your belt everywhere you went, and you never should've left yourself open to the elements. How many jackets do you have under your bed? 

The convenience store beckons like a beacon. The night is heavy but the moonlight strives to lead you, and you follow it to the white walls one exhausted step at a time. 

You circle the building. 

There's no one waiting for you. He isn't where he promised. 

You try to open the door but can't find the strength. Everything hurts more than anything has ever hurt before. Your hands are immobile now, your shoes falling to the concrete beneath with a dull thump. One springs away too far to reach. 

You sit down against the back of the convenience store, drained of everything you have. If he isn't here, he's dead. If he's dead, you might as well die. He was everything, and he's gone. 

You fall asleep sitting up against the wall, face smashed to your shoulder. Let whatever comes across you first finish you off while you sleep… 

There's a pressure around you. You wake in a struggle, still too tired to move, to flail, completely encompassed. Your first thought is that you've died, but the pressure tightens, and you feel all your hurt reawaken. 

"I know, baby," Steve murmurs. You must've made a sound. "I know. It's okay. I got you." 

You really have died if he's here. 

You grab limply at his back, trying to pull him away so you can see his face. It's a geek chewing through the juncture of your neck, and whoever's looking down on you feels sorry enough to let you see him before you go. It's a raider, tying you up and hanging you from a pike, the ropes constricting your blood flow. It's not Steve. 

"What fucking happened to you?" he asks, his voice shaking. "What happened? Did someone–" 

"Steve," a familiar voice says, "come on, man, she can't understand you." 

Steve pulls away from you and it's him, his face, his pale cheeks and almond brown eyes, one ringed in a purple wine stain, the white bisected by an ominous red. 

"What…" Your mouth won't cooperate. A cold hand grabs your face. It can't be Steve's, his hands are always so warm. Water is tipped into your mouth, the majority of which runs down your neck to your clavicle. 

"Do you have, um, do you have that bottle of malt still?" Steve asks. 

"She'll pass out–" 

"Maybe that's best," Steve says. 

"Not if she doesn't wake up again." 

"She's gonna turn septic, no doubt. I have to go back, I can get antibiotics." 

"You can't go back, are you stupid?" 

You groan, their words rushing in one ear and out the other, indecipherable from the whooshing that feels like it's originating behind your eyes. 

"Y/N," Steve says gently, "can you understand me, honey? Do you know what I'm saying to you? Can you nod?" 

You nod as best as you can. 

Steve puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gingerly. "I'm going to make everything better, I promise. I promise." 

You try to say sorry, you should be really fucking sorry, he has to save you all over again, but the only thing that wants to come out is shattered breath. 

Things are spotty after that. You have the sense of being moved flat on your back and dragged. It's not pretty, the distinct memory of a hand over your mouth, and then, when your bearings are coming back, you remember that you'd been screaming. 

You have your head in someone's lap. You don't fall asleep or wake up, it's like you're treading water and your head's been under. Now you're breaking the surface, and it's to the tender touch of a fingertip climbing up and down your nose bridge. 

Something crackles. It takes you right back to the bonfire in the quad, is it the bonfire? You try to lift your head and the person holding you startles. 

"No, stay still," Steve says gently. 

"Steve?" 

"Who else?" He says, still gentle but a hint of his usual derision peaking through. "Do you let other guys treat you this way?" 

"Steve," you mumble, tears pricking your waterline. 

He can't hug you from the way he's laid you out, but he leans over slightly as though he's shielding you from the grey above. You try to turn your neck and find the white hot pain a quick deterrent. 

"Look at you. Fuck, look at you," he says. 

You cry a little, unsure if you can speak. Tears sting an abrasion beside your eye. 

"Don't upset her, Steve," says a girl's voice. Your heart skips a beat as Robin Buckley comes into view, lip split and without a jacket but otherwise unscathed. "Hey, Y/N. Don't worry, you're not stuck solely with him." 

You laugh, but you're crying so you cough, and pain zips up and down your arms and legs. 

Robin kneels down beside you and hugs you lightly. Her hair, scraped back into a pony tail, tickles your cheek. 

"I love you, I'm so glad you're okay," she says. 

"Me too," you mumble. 

Robin pulls back and smiles at you. "You gotta eat something, killer." 

"I don't really think she can move, Robs," Steve says quietly. 

"She won't be able to if she doesn't eat." 

Steve sighs and helps you up painstakingly slowly, his hands under your armpits. He sits forward rather than pulling you back, supporting you like a Steve-shaped chair.

You realise for the first time since you woke up that you're inside, rather than outside. 

And there are lots of survivors. 

Jonathan and his mom are standing across the room. Jonathan has two little kids in his arms, and you're so shocked you actually try to ask about it. "Did he have babies while I was out?" you croak. 

Steve hums near your ear. "He saved nearly all of the kids all by himself… Most of their parents are dead. I think he feels responsible." 

"Most of them?" you ask. 

"Yeah." 

Lots of survivors doesn't mean all. It doesn't even mean the majority. The College had almost four hundred people living in it. This room houses what couldn't be more than a fifth of them, and there's at least a dozen children. You don't say it aloud, but you feel it thick in the air like an electric charge. 

This is not good. 

"Don't worry," Steve says, hands crossing over your stomach. "Please, honey, just– just think about yourself for now." 

"I can't believe it." 

He shushes you. 

"Steve, all those people…" 

"I know." 

You use him as impromptu furniture and Robin returns with a can of peaches and a fork. She loves you enough to feed you. It makes you want to cry again. 

You're relieved to be far away from what happened, but there's a feeling of unreality that won't cease. You keep looking at the corners of the room like the light will dim and the blood caked to your hands will reappear. Someone wiped them clean while you slept and bandaged them with care. 

You feel sick after the peaches. 

"Throw up if you gotta," Steve says mildly, his nose resting against the back of your head. 

You fall asleep again. 

When you wake up, it's night. You feel stronger than you had as soon as your eyes open, digging your elbows into the blanket tucked beneath you and hiking up to look around. Steve's asleep to your left, his hand screwed in the bedraggled fabric of your shirt, and Robin's asleep to your right, her hand touching your elbow. 

A woman you couldn't name from the back sits in front of the door. The muzzle of a long gun sticks out over her shoulder. 

The room isn't big enough for this many sleeping bodies, and so the group sleep toe to toe and hip to hip. The only people with blankets are the children and the badly injured. You have two. You have no idea how Steve managed it, one under you and one over your legs. 

Or, you don't think you know how he managed it until you slide the blanket down and realise you aren't wearing any pants. Underwear that aren't yours have been pulled up your thighs and cinched with an elastic band. 

Poor lovely Steve. He always does the gross stuff. 

You pull the blanket back up for the sake of decency and swallow. You swallow again. You're thirsty and in an insane amount of pain, the intensity increasing the longer that you think about it. You don't want to wake him, but you know it's what he'd want, and he's saved your life for the millionth time, so. He should get what he wants. 

You try to be sweet. You can barely breathe, your chest hurts that badly. 

"Stevie," you whisper, tugging his fingers from your shirt and squeezing them imploringly. "Stevie, please, are you awake?" 

It's Robin who rouses. 

"He–" She yawns and her jaw clicks. "He might not wake up, I made him take a quarter of an oxycontin." 

"Yeah? What for?" 

"He wrecked his knee, and he made it worse carrying you up the stairs here." Robin scratches her eyes with her hands. "Not that it's your fault, it's not your fault. Just what happened." 

"Oh." You pull Steve's hand to your lips and kiss it. Wincing, you turn onto your side to face Robin, pulling his slack arm over your tummy. He doesn't hug you closer in his sleep, and it feels wrong. "I know you look after him 'cos he's yours, too, but thanks." 

She smiles, her cheek appling against the hand she's using as a pillow. 

"Do you want a quarter of an oxycontin?" Robin asks. 

"No, you should save it." 

"I know you need it. It's not all superficial. Jonathan's mom gave you stitches, did you see?" 

"Everything sort of throbs right now." 

She pulls a half of a pill from her pocket and apologises that you have to bite it in half. She can't give you the full half because this is the full capacity of painkillers and she's lucky she has that. 

"It's okay," you say, accepting the water she offers. 

"I really don't know what we're gonna do, Y/N." 

"I don't even know what happened, I… don't even think I want to know. I remember the beginning." The gunfire and the shattering windows. The shouting. "I don't remember where you went." 

"We didn't know where you went." 

"Sorry. I don't know." 

"It honestly might be better if you don't remember any of it," Robin whispers wryly. "I wish I didn't." 

You grab her hand with your free one, pretzelled between her and Steve. "I'm sorry, Robs." 

"Me too. But we'll be okay. We're together."

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Robin blows a curl of her hair from her face. She looks young, sun tanned and freckled as she is, and scared, which isn't her style. She acts like nothing ever gets to her. It's a privilege to be let in. 

"I was terrified that you were dead," Robin whispers. "And then I thought me and Steve were gonna die anyways, and he got into a fist fight with a geek and Dustin almost died." She stops abruptly. 

"Is that how he got the black eye? From a geek?" you ask. 

"No. There was a man," she says, "trying to pin me down. I don't know what he… Steve pulled him off of me." 

You rub the back of her hand with your thumb. "He hurt you?" you ask, eyes burning with heat. Angry and sad tears at the same time. 

"Nah, Steve saved me. He's good at that." 

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry. You really don't get how bad you look, I shouldn't be telling you anything. You need," —her voice takes on a saccharine but not ingenuine pep— "to get better, and to worry about yourself. I'll be surprised if you ever walk again."

"Really?" The oxycontin must be working (if a quarter even works), 'cos you're not nearly as disenfranchised by this possibility as you should be. 

"No. But think about how much that would suck and this is almost the winning situation." 

"Sorry, Buckley, I swear I'd laugh…"  

"But everything sucks."

"Yeah." 

You have one hand full of Robin's cold fingers and another woven between Steve's warm ones. You have two whole blankets, you're mostly fed, and there's a lady guarding you with a gun bigger than your head. You can rest easy, if only for an hour. 

Robin falls asleep gradually, quiet snores growing louder by the by. 

You try to sleep, but every time you close your eyes you can see shapes like bodies standing over you, or hear a disembodied groan as it echoes in the shower room. You regretfully remove your hand from Robin's and turn back to Steve. There's a twinge in your thigh as you that reminds you about Joyce's stitches. You wonder how many there were. It feels like a lot when it pulls. 

You put you hand on Steve's cheek. Thinking you might cry and actually crying are surprisingly far apart. He deserves to have some tears shed for him, your poor boy, defending his friends, hurting himself, almost losing you, losing his home, and watching the community he loves die all in one night. He deserves so much more than he gets. 

"I love you," you say under your breath. 

The mantra. Please, please, please, let him be waiting for me. 

— 

Your hand is like a hummingbird in Steve's, twitching twitching twitching. He rubs the back of your hand and tries not to wake you. The pain you're in now while sleeping will feel a thousand times worse when you wake, and he has nothing to give you for it. 

He woke up to your fingers twined in his. You must've done it in the night. 

Robin's sleeping curled up next to you, his two favourite people in the whole world getting a well-needed break from the horror of it. Horror doesn't even feel like the right word, it doesn't encapsulate the grimness of your situation. There's no potable water, barely any food, and a lot of months to feed. Steve knows they need as many people out looking for resources as they can get so they can move on, and they need to do it fast, before someone comes looking to pick off the rest of them, but he just can't do it. He can't leave your side. 

He tries to think about how he got separated from you and every time it's like a kick to the chest. He looked to his left in the bloodshed and you just weren't there anymore. 

Things got messy in between. 

When he finally had the choice he tried to backtrack, and Chris and Robin had to forcibly drag him to shelter. 

He told you and Robin the same thing, meet me at the store, though thankfully Robin hadn't been out of sight for longer than a minute, and he'd been able to protect her. He wasn't the only one to pick a familiar place. A small crowd of people had been waiting inside the convenience store, a gun aimed at the door.

He'd wanted to go back for you. He would've if he could stand, his knee a twisting hot pain, an agony —he tried anyway. 

They stayed like that, kids hiding behind the shelves, the adults at the door like a barricade, waiting for a sign as to what to do. Waiting to be put down like animals by the monsters who invaded the community, geek and human alike. 

There was a thump by the door. Steve realises now that it must've been you, but they'd been convinced it was a geek, and so nobody stood. It had his nerves aflame, because what if you were huddled somewhere unable to move? What kind of boyfriend, what kind of partner, would leave you vulnerable? He'd rather put himself in moral peril trying to save you than leave you to that fate. So he stood on his fucked leg and he eased open the door, Christopher beside him because he's a good man, and together they stepped into the dusk. 

Steve did not have to look very far for you. You'd been laid out against the wall like you'd been thrown there. 

He collapsed to his knees as soon as he realised it was you, scared to touch you, your clothes more blood than fabric and your eyes scrunched closed in pain. 

"Holy shit," Christopher said.

Astute. Steve felt for your pulse, found it fast despite your state of unconsciousness. A wound on your leg was weeping furiously, and Steve ripped off the bottom of his shirt bare-handed to wrap it up. 

He hugged you even though it would do nothing. It was selfishly all for him. 

Steve had thought for a moment, Fuck, I cannot keep doing this. The level of adrenaline, the sharp spike of fear thinking he might have lost you. I can't keep doing this. 

But he can, and he will. 

They carried what food they could with them to the block of apartments they're currently taking shelter in, but Steve had carried you with help, and so he hadn't managed to grab anything at all. He relies solely on the charity of the community to feed you today, and he promises he'll make it up. 

"Y/N," Steve says, a can of soup in hand, not knowing if waking you is the right thing to do, but his hand on your shoulder anyways, "wake up, I have something for you." 

You mumble into the floor. 

He hums. He could heat the soup up. He'd need to go outside, which would be exhausting, and he'd have to start a fire, but they'll be starting one soon enough to boil water while the sky is still dark enough to hide the smoke. Maybe he can call in a favour. 

He limps over to Joyce. She's been great since the attack, considering what happened to Hopper. 

"Hey, honey," she says. "What are you upto?" 

"Can I be a total dunce and ask you for a favour?" 

Joyce takes his can of soup. He limps back to your side and looks you over for a while, peeling back your blanket to check that the big cut on your thigh and the tens on your knees aren't visibly infected. He's been given a tube of antiseptic and applied it to you generously, but he worries it won't be enough. Your legs are fucked, really fucked, cuts and bruises on every inch of skin. He has no idea how it happened and you haven't been lucid enough to ask.

He tucks the blanket back around your legs to ensure some privacy and moves onto your arms. He thinks you must've fallen onto debris, if the scratches near the base of your forearms are any indication. 

He puts your arm down gently and his eyes flick to your face. You're looking at him. 

"Oh, hi," he says, breathless with relief. 

"Hi Stevie." 

"Hi." He covers his eyes with his hands. 

"Steve…" You murmur, your fingers ghosting his elbow, stretched as far as you can reach from your position. "Baby, please."

He scrubs his eyes until they burn but successfully pushes away any waterworks. 

"You have to stop doing this to me," he says, practically begs, nodding with each word like it might drive the sentiment home. 

"I'm sorry." You sit up, clasping his elbow. "Really sorry." 

Steve exhales until he's completely empty of breath. "God, I know. It's not your fault." 

"Hey, Steve, stop using my mom like a catering service," Jonathan says suddenly, interrupting your moody conversation.

He's holding a camping bowl with a rag underneath it, pretending to be more pissed than he is. He smiles down at you. "Hey, how are you?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Well, eat up. Get better. I need friends that aren't fourteen years old or Steve," he jokes, lowering the soup into your lap. "I'm glad you're okay." 

"Thanks, Jonathan." 

He smiles and leaves, accosted by little kids as he goes.

Steve puts his hand under the soup despite the rag, worried you'll burn yourself. You protest, and Steve's actually happy to hear it. It means you're feeling more like yourself. 

"Are you sharing with me?" you ask. 

"If that's what you want." 

"Yes, that's what I want."

Steve lets you have the soup dumplings, hot and sweet, the best part. He doesn't bother eating even one. You take turns drinking from the corner of the camping tin, thigh to thigh, Steve guiding it to your lips whenever you look ready for another sip. 

It's actually him that cries, to his surprise. He thought for sure he'd hold it together, but he's just so grateful that you're here and in one admittedly battered piece, eating soup and warm against him, they start of their own accord. You rest your head wonkily on his shoulder, seemingly unaware. He tries not to sniffle.

"I love you," you whisper, dropping your hand on his thigh. 

He puts his cheek on your head. His tears seep into your hair. "I love you too." 

"Are you crying?" you ask, sounding heartbroken as you turn to him. Your eyes widen in shock. "What's wrong? Is it your knee?" 

It's not his knee. It couldn't be further from it. 

"We lost everything," he says, everything coming out in a rushing whisper, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to take care of you anymore. You almost died, again."

"I didn't almost die, I was tired," you say gently. "I wouldn't have died." 

"That doesn't mean I can still do this." 

"Steve, I'm not asking you to do anything. I know I was hard work–" 

"No–" 

"But this time it's different. I'm not saying you don't look after me, I'm not even saying you won't have to again, but I don't need a bodyguard this time around. And we aren't alone. You're not alone. I need you to be my– to be mine. That's it." You put your hand on his cheek. It's heavy, rough, but you try to be kind and he knows it. You're uncoordinated, stroking under his eye. "I'm sorry, Steve, I am, I'm so sorry, please don't–" 

His turn to interrupt a ridiculous notion. "Please don't what?" he asks, not unkindly. You take your hand back. Your face crumples, your head dipped toward your shoulder. "Don't what? You think I'm going somewhere, really?" 

"Please don't blame yourself for everything," you say. 

It's not even that. He isn't blaming himself. He isn't blaming you. He's just mind-numbingly terrified to be back on the road.

"We're together," you say, nearly shy. "Isn't that okay for now?" 

"...That's the only thing that's okay," he says. 

He scrubs his face with his hand, scratching through his limp hair. He rolls his shoulders, and, after a deep breath, he takes your hand and pulls himself together. 

Steve doesn't know what to say, and he suspects you're facing a similar dilemma. 

"Don't get it twisted," he says eventually, his voice rough with earnestness, "you're the only thing that matters to me. But…" What do you say? After all those people have died? When your sweetheart can't stand, she's so cut up? All to get back to you and nothing good promised? "I wanted more than this for us." 

We had more than this.  

"This is the world now," you say, tired. 

"Remember that phrase? 'I'll give you the world'? I'd say that to you, but I don't think you want it," he says, trying to lighten the impossibly heavy mood. 

You laugh under your breath. "I do, though. I want it with you, handsome, so just… don't give up yet. Okay?" 

"I'm not giving up." 

"Thank you." 

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Don't say thanks, you don't even have to ask me for that." 

He rests his face against yours, mouth to your temple, his eyes slipping closed. He doesn't have it in him to unpack everything that's happened. Maybe he never will. 

But he has his girl. 

—-

ty for reading! requests for this au are open so let me know what you wanna see if you’d like to<3

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[fernthewhimsical]

Hopepunk Primer pt. 2

Philosophy of Hopepunk

I cannot express this better than other people have done before me. So I'll start with an interview Kayti Burt had with several hopepunk authors in 2019.

"What is hopepunk? It depends on who you ask…

Rowland, quoting her essay “One Atom of Justice, One Molecule of Mercy, and the Empire of Unsheathed Knives,” says: “Hopepunk is a subgenre and a philosophy that ‘says kindness and softness don’t equal weakness, and that, in this world of brutal cynicism and nihilism, being kind is a political act. An act of rebellion.’”

To understand hopepunk as a concept it helps to understand what it stands in contrast to. Grimdark is a fantasy subgenre characterized by bleak settings in which humanity is fundamentally cutthroat, and where no individual or community can stop the world’s inevitable decline. Hopepunk, in contrast, believes that the very act of trying has meaning, that fighting for positive change in and of itself has worth—especially if we do it together." [4]

When Alexandra Rowland was asked on Tumblr to expand on the initial statement she made she elaborated:

"Hopepunk says that genuinely and sincerely caring about something, anything, requires bravery and strength. Hopepunk isn’t ever about submission or acceptance: It’s about standing up and fighting for what you believe in. It’s about standing up for other people. It’s about DEMANDING a better, kinder world, and truly believing that we can get there if we care about each other as hard as we possibly can, with every drop of power in our little hearts." [5]

I also love the definition of the Tumblr blog @hopepunk-humanity:

"What is Hopepunk?

Wild laughter from ragged throats

Flowers growing choked from crumbling asphalt

A warm bed after a long, hard journey

Your partner’s hand cupped in your own

Bright graffiti on cracked tunnel walls

The chains falling loose to the stone floor

A glint of silver beneath a century of tarnish

A long rain after a blistering wildfire

Just one more step, and then another

A single candle flame joining the stars against the night

A loved ones voice calling your name after hours lost in an unfamiliar place

A hand taking yours, just when you’d given up on reaching out

Smiling, laughing again, when you thought you’d forgotten how

Knowing, despite everything, that humans are inherently good

It’s not simply blind optimism, or naivety. It’s choice. It’s taking the human race by the hand and saying, “I will love you, because I am you”. It’s facing a world dripping with cynicism and fashionable hopelessness and saying, “no, I will not give in”. It’s putting kindness out into the world, knowing you might not get it back, knowing you may be scorned for it, knowing it might not change anything, but with a certainty that kindness is what the world needs the most.

It is choosing hope" [6]

Hopepunk is choosing hope in a world where they want us to have none. It's choosing humanity when they want us to forget we are human. It's choosing community when they would benefit of us staying individuals. It's choosing action and hope when they want us struck down and paralyzed.

Alexandra Rowland emphasizes to not forget the second part of the word: Punk. In another interview with Kayti Burt for Den of Geek she says: "it’s important to remember that punk is the operative half of the word – punk in the sense of anti-authoritarianism and punching back against oppression." and "The instinct is to make it only about softness and kindness, because those are what we’re most hungry for. We all want to be treated gently. But sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is to stand up to a bully on their behalf, and that takes guts and rage." [7]

What is Hopepunk to me?

That spark that is both love and spite that keeps me going. It's seeing the good in humanity, while also acknowledging the harm. It's refusing to lay down and die, refusing the accept the status quo, refusing to believe that this is it. It's believing in a better world. In kindness. In the inherent sense of community in humanity. It's believing in the power of stories. It's seeing kindness and hope as an act of Sacred Rebellion. And spreading that kindness and hope is a Vow that I have taken. It's taken the anger I have against corporations, injustice, bigotry, capitalism, oppression, and letting it fuel the fire within me in a constructive way. It's working to dismantle systems that are oppressive to work towards a more inclusive world. It's pruning the garden of dead weight so new things can grow. Late stage capitalism wants us all to be docile, to work, not to live. So I will shout my small joys from the rooftops. I will create for the sake of creating. I will practice radical acceptance so that I stand strong above the masses of ads that wants me to hate myself. I will choose to see the good so that I can believe change is possible. Hopepunk a fire that says "Rage. Rage against those who deserve it. Stand up for those who do not and show them a better world is possible."

[4] Den of Geek - Are you afraid of the darkness: a hopepunk explainer [5] Alexandra Rowland tumblr post [6] Hopepunk-humanity - what is hopepunk [7] Den of Geek - a hopepunk guide: interview with Alexandra Rowland

Part 1: Intro and history Part 2: Philosophy of Hopepunk Part 3: How to practice hopepunk and further reading Part 4: Extra! Hopepunk and magic

#witchblr #hope #hopepunk #personal #mine #divider by saradika

[allimocha]

AlliMocha Fancuries FYC Post!

Hi Hello, Pip Pip Cheerio! Fancuries is here once again! And boy do I have something to share this FYC post.

So, I haven’t worked on Bittersweet X Daydream in a hot minute if I'm gonna be honest. A lot of other obligations have been taking time away from my main fanseries sadly. BUT I do have one new thing to show you guys regarding it.

…

Hear me out.

A redesign.

I KNoW I know I said no more redesigns, but after having these characters for so long, it's only natural that I'd want to change how they look. Specifically, there is only one character that I've redesigned so far anyway…

Lei Sandiego / Cure Spice

“𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘺, 𝘎𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢! 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘦!”

Age: 16 (Second year/Sophomore)

Birthday: September 18th

Height: 5’6”

Ethnicity: Hispanic American

Cure color: Blue and Scarlet

Essence: Charismatic

Often referred to as “The school beauty”, Lei is admired by almost all of her peers. Her amazing charisma, along with her intimidatingly cool and beautiful looks immediately captures everyone’s attention. But despite this, she’s really just a big fashion geek. She prides herself in her impeccable style savvy-ness and studies the latest trends all the time. Lei is also a very confident person, sometimes to the point that it can be overbearing, but she’s never arrogant and always means well. She’s a hopeless romantic and is constantly trying to look for someone who likes her beneath her looks. Although she’s fashion-centric she’s also very athletic, being the co-captain of the girls' volleyball team, and so devotes time to doing both hobbies.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That's not all, however, because I also have a new series that I've been working on. A crossover series if you will. Based on one of my favorite Disney movies of all time:

Sugar Rush! Precure

A group of girls go to the arcade after school every day to hangout. They excel at most of the consoles there, notably the racing games. One day, Vanelope finds a weird token like she had never seen before, as it was engraved with intricate patterns and a shiny gold. When she attempts to use it in a racing game, it flashes in the machine and floats out as another trinket (henshin item). At that moment, a mysterious person is creating havoc outside the arcade, clearly looking for something. He spots the trinket in Vanelope’s hand, and we all know what happens from here.

Yep! Cures based on the sugar rush racers from Wreck-It Ralph! So far, I only have 2 of their designs, but I'm still completely in love with where this is going. Speaking of which, lets show those two off!

Vanelope Von Schmitt / Cure Sweets

Age: 16

A very confident girl, Vanelope is definetly the ray of sunshine that brightens anyone’s day. She’s very friendly, but is also not afraid to tell it like she sees it. She also has a habit of being overly sarcastic or jokey, which can come off as annoying to others. Not really good at school and overly clumsy, so sometimes covers her negative emotions with jokes or sarcasm. Adores arcades and always states it’s her home away from home.

Tabitha Mathews / Cure Taffy

Age: 16

Very rich and spoiled and it definetly shows. She can be cocky and overbearing at times, but she’s got a good heart. One of the more popular girls in their school, and accells in all her extracurriculars. Due to her father being principal, people have rumored that all her grades were boosted due to nepotism, but that’s not true. She works hard to get where she is, and while vain and sometimes a little rude, she isn’t afraid to help others in need. Goes to the arcade to get away at times.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that’s all I’ve been working on so far! I can’t really say I’ve done much with my fanseries over the years, but hopefully you all like what I do have!

Byieeee~!

#art #black artist #precure #precure fanseries #pretty cure fanseries #fancuries fyc #fancure

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hii, first of all I’m loving the smosh headcanons, second, could you please make a spencer agnew one?

spencer agnew x reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: tysm for the request lovely!! love spencer so much and i hope you enjoy these little headcanons 💌🍓

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dating spencer would include…

ok when he first met you he tried to work up the nerve to ask you out for actual weeks

and he finally he did and you guys started dating 

y’all have so many inside jokes 

and make each other laugh constantly

and you definitely have a cat

which he named after an inside joke you guys have (see above)

he tells you how unique you are all the time 

calls you every night and then texts ‘goodnight’ right after 

uses the most random emojis 

you guys get into a lot of tv shows together and geek out with each other it’s adorable

he gives you all the compliments

and he’s such a hopeless romantic like ✋😭

‘I don’t deserve you (y/n)’

can’t pick a restaurant for the life of him but he loves whatever you pick 

you guys have game nights all the time and invite all the smosh fam

definitely got you hooked on mountain dew kickstart 

he’s so protective of you fr

never leaves your side at events and stuff

“you can’t leave me, (y/n), I don’t know anyone here’

he calls you by the most random nicknames 

and you love it 

don’t ask why but i know you guys pulled a barbenheimer tell me im wrong 

always holding your hand 

he made you video diaries documenting your relationship for your birthday 

and you two have so many photo albums together 

he posts about you 24/7

leans his head on your shoulder all the time

you’re his best friend and he tells you that sm

always has an arm around you 

neck kisses 

constantly sending you memes especially of cats 

everyone at smosh is already secretly preparing for your wedding because they know you guys will end up together 

he just adores you and you guys have such a beautiful relationship <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted!! let me know if you want any other smosh headcanons 💋💌

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew headcanons #smosh #smoshblr #smosh fam #smosh headcanons #smosh fanfiction #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #headcanon #x reader

[vnyverse]

can i request for newjeans x reader when their s/o is smart, has a cute eyesmile with dimples, a hopeless romantic, probably a nerdy partner whose very mature? thank you!

a/n: not writing for my kiddo hyein! might add platonic hyein on a later date

Anon.. are u insinuating you’re all of the above? Dimples? Cute eyesmile? Nerdy? Smart? You’re mighty fine.

Minji

Have you seen how she reacts when Hanni initiates skinship with her? Not the most touchy person, me thinks, but would love to hold you close regardless, preferably looping your hands around each others’ when reading or in the car ( because she wants to appear calm and collected, she would not be able to concentrate if u pull out surprise kisses)

Quick reflexes- the sort that catches you when you fall, catches your phone mid air when it falls, puts a hand around sharp corners of furniture you’re around

Would totally handle a dramatic or even awkward s/o well, have you seen the girls she lives with…

Would find you endearing if you’re too shy to make the first move, and would totally entertain you if you turn out to be very expressive

Eye Smile(s) on 3..2..1..

Both minji and your smiles would emanate so much light, she thinks your eye smile is very endearing, would probably take a polaroid to keep the memory fresh and lovely for when she needs it

Would be so excited she has her own set of dimples to poke-(not on her face but yours), would be such a curious girl, always wanting to touch it or would very unlike herself, doing something dumb to make you smile and show your dimples to her

I actually think minji has a jealous streak.. If she sees you, albeit jokingly, acting out romantic tv lines with another member, she’d not want to show her jealousy, but it wouldn’t take long for you to find out 

She appreciates emotional maturity, intellectual depth

In essence, she’s appreciative of how you take care of her when she is willing to be vulnerable around you

You know when she wants to talk, you’re mature enough to listen to whatever she has to talk about without laughing, she would genuinely want to just get it over and done with when talking about what upsets her, would not want to ruminate on negative thoughts

I would think intellectually stimulating conversations about whatever subject matter would be something she genuinely values 

She likes when you can hold your ground, support your argument by reasoning well, that you aren’t easily influenced by groundless assumptions. 

She’d love to have these conversations with her members as well, but I think with how hard she can be on herself it may lead to the result of her members overthinking, so she turns to you. 

Academic rivals turned friends could very well be possible here with how competitive she is..

May have expounded more on intellect because that’s what I like as well hehe

Hanni 

The dynamic I see would totes be failing student x top student here 

I see her as not a dumb student, but one that procrastinates a lot and flips through a page or two of her books before the exam

Doing revision with her while you focus on grading her work and she focuses on the dimples that show even when you frown, giggles

The sort to get you kicked out of the library on accident 

She would be so proud of you when grade rankings are made public to the entire school and you always place number one

“MY Y/N GOT FIRST PLACE AGAIN”

Would tell everyone and their mama about it

Will melt when she sees you, a student from another discipline, taking up extra classes or doing research to be able to coach her on a paper to save her grade.

Grateful towards you that you give in to her requests and shelter her even if you know you don’t have to, even if you’re happy to

Getting her snacks, giving her your sweaters even when you’re cold, pretending you’re not affected by the a/c blasting cold air onto you during study dates

Probably has you geeking out over something as her chat wallpaper unbeknownst to you 

Random, but asks you to hold 423 things for her because she loses her things easily, yet you know where every single item is

Hopeless romantic x hopeless romantic, thing one and thing two

Ice cream dates

You’d suggest a cafe and ask her come along to try out a new flavour, she’d probably eat so messily yet not bring along tissues and you’d have to use a handkerchief to wipe off the ice cream that found it way to her cheek, while she looks at you with those eyes 

Likes your eye smile so much, if it’s not only reserved for her she might lowkey pretend to be upset about it 

HATES IT when she sees you outright being taken advantage of.

You being you take it to the next level by writing notes for other students in class to aid their understanding yet they don’t take you seriously and continue asking for your help at times, being very confusing 

You’d have to hold her back from beating up every single one of them, and she would be so angry on your behalf yet cherish you even more because of how unconditionally kind you are

Use your big brain to your advantage, engage with her when she rambles on about what she overthinks about, yet guide her to focus her energy on self improvement rather than self blame, if any

Danielle

Sunshine and sunshine protector, nothing else

Miss Danielle loves listening and sharing her little observations, so her partner having so much knowledge would be so attractive, she knows she can rely on you if she wants to find out more about her topic of interest.

Hear me out here…

She would probably make a powerpoint about your subject of interest on special days, and try to learn about what you like, but get a fact or two wrong but you’d be so encouraged by her efforts. 

Being brought up to be very loving, Dani would be comfortable expressing her cheeky side with you.. Ever seen her as a kid? Lowkey chaotic

So it's no surprise if she knits you something, you wear it for important events, even if it sounds cringe, for competitions and all that.

Theatre kid Dani will not let you be a hopeless romantic on your own, you have my word

I would think she know how to ground herself, enjoy alone time, but when she misses you or wants you around she lets you know upfront, very communicative 

She may be young and has lots to learn, but she’s very humble and earnest in wanting to grow with you

She wouldn’t be afraid of communicating across her anxieties with growing up, hate, or even when there are disputes within the members, partly because she knows you can be trusted, and you always manage to comfort her

Nothing but continual praises for your dimples on Phoning, will probably ask you to show her your dimples 4323 times a day, has a picture of you everyday with an eye smile, so many she could probably make a calendar out of it, but you’d do anything she asks

Will turn into a ball of mush if you make sudden eye contact with her and show that glorious eye smile of yours

Haerin

Quiet kid haerin x nerd that is so cute cmon

She would probably be dozing off in class, and when she gets called to answer a question she freezes

You jump to her rescue by pointing out that there’s a flaw in the question and sit down immediately

Her eyes become glued to you for the rest of the day, while you tell yourself you must be dreaming when you feel a pair of feline eyes on you 

“Cute” she thinks when she sees your eye smile after seeing a big red 100 on your script, not knowing she says it out loud, she wonders why you’re turning so red and is currently using your script to cover your face. 

Excuse me as I digress but…

VANESSA KANG x nerd (hmmm stuco treasurer and stuco secretary in an elite school)

I pulled this out my ass but might end up writing a whole fic for it

Only started talking because they are the admin backbones of stuco, and eventually it blooms into a r/s

Your positions were always thought to be background work, but in reality you have to plan so much and bear the brunt of the teachers’ wrath when something unexpected happens and the school’s reputation is at stake

Many many breakdowns and restless nights ensued, and late night calls between the two of you to plan out school events took place

Though you two were not the most sociable, your eye smile was pretty lethal, and she fell for it as well

She may or may not have given in to her intrusive thoughts one day, and reached out to poke your cheek because she though it looked so soft it’d feel like bread dough

You found it utterly adorable, and her little actions always seemed to be so subtle yet eye catching to you

You could live with not watching hunks play basketball during recess but you couldn’t miss haerin’s escapades to the nearby park during break, in fact, you’d probably accompany her

Tying her laces, afraid she falls

Letting her doodle all over your notes and joining her with coming up with ridiculous names for the doodles

The sort of couple that will name a cat dog and a dog cat.

I honestly think that haerin has her own way of feeling out whether or not someone is a good match for her, and that is how they can manage to be on the same linguistic wavelength; how they can reciprocate with her energy and how spontaneous they can become. Hence, I didnt really focus on physical traits so much with haerin, and I think the same goes with Danielle.

#newjeans fluff #newjeans imagines #gg fluff #gg imagines #gg x reader #newjeans #minji scenarios #minji #minji imagines #newjeans minji #minji fluff #danielle #newjeans hanni #newjeans danielle #danielle imagines #hanni pham #hanni imagines #newjeans haerin #kang haerin #haerin x reader #haerin

[layla4567]

Spoilers Loki s2 e5

I have a lot to say!!! (this will be long)

Ok first of all this scene made me laugh a lot because of how randomly they presented the original timeline of Mobius, he looks like a child playing (oh and him being a single dad it makes a lot of sense to me)

expectation:

reality:

Oh my f*cking god If I liked O.B before, now I love him with all my soul! He is not only a nerdy genius but a science fiction geek whose passion is to be a writer!!! And why didn't they let him keep his books in the bookstore?! I would gladly buy them!! Just look at his face, he needs a hug :(

AND WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT HELP HIM WHEN THE BOOKS DROPPED ON HIM?! IT COSTS NOTHING TO BE KIND DAMN IT

Ok, I think we've all realized that O.B's workshop is the same as the basement where he works at the TVA, maybe he was the one who created the TVA after all? btw how beautiful the photography is in this entire series.

I admit it, I laughed my ass off at this scene, I apologize (make it a meme pls lol) Honestly, this whole scene and the interactions that O.B had with Loki made me laugh (when Loki tries to control his timeslipping or when O.B electrocutes him as scientific proof)

This scene where Loki adjusts his hair and his jacket to see Mobius 👀 (he only does it with him) I wonder what the Sylki fans have to say

Remember how I said I hated Hunter X5/Brad Wolfe? Well I was wrong, there is one person I hate more, her. Girl, they're literally telling you that everything is going to shit and you don't give a damn? On top of that, when they tell you that you are selfish, do you take it naturally as if it were something to be proud of? Why are you like this? The worst thing of all is that when Loki says he wants his friends back she calls him selfish, not sweetheart, that's not being selfish. Being selfish is turning a blind eye to a problem that you mainly caused. Loki's fear of being alone is understandable and justified since he felt that way all his life and has done all the things he did for that same reason, which It's being really selfish, it's the opposite, wanting to be alone and forget your friends and not care that their timelines are falling apart. Sylvie you are a hypocrite (sorry I had to vent)

AAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO CRY GOD. I said it and I will always say it Loki needs a hug 😭 This scene is super moving because it shows us Loki's true purpose, he just wants his friends back, who are also people he hasn't known for a long time but who were attentive to him (btw Tom Hiddleston always shines in all his scenes )

This scene...holy shit this scene was scary. I think it's even more terrifying than Thanos' snap.

It's overwhelming how everything around her disappears in seconds leaving her in literal emptiness. There is absolutely nothing left, only threads floating in an enveloping blackness. When I saw that scene I felt empty and desolate.

OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN...

NOOOOOOO MOBIUS NOT YOU (He just wanted to save his children 😭)

Loki's face when he sees his friend disappear D: (I'm having deja vu from the first season when Mobius was pruned)

Sylvie too?! Why does she disappear and Loki doesn't? (By the way, you just arrived Sylvie when you realize that everything is disappearing? really?)

Ok this is a nightmare for Loki, he was left alone and couldn't do anything to avoid all that, I think it's the most hopeless scene of the episode :( (And the way he tries to grab those threads…I'm broken)

OK HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS SCENE. I think the background voices help a lot with the feeling of anguish and helplessness that Loki feels, for not being able to save what he loved most, his friends. And when you feel overwhelmed by all those voices and at the end one stands out and it's Sylvie's voice saying something like what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose? That's when he screams in despair and goes back in time just a few seconds earlier and manages to control his timeslipping. And I must say that at first when I saw this scene it reminded me a lot of the scene from the movie "Ella Enchanted" when she is forced to kill the prince and she is surrounded by mirrors and begins to remember moments of her life such as when her mother told him to trust her or something like that (I don't remember the scene much, I saw it years ago lol) the point is that she refuses with all her heart to obey that order and in a moment of desperation she screams just like Loki and she says that she will no longer be obedient and drops the dagger, freeing herself from the spell. I don't know if you understand my point because I'm bad at explaining, but I think that the love he feels for his friends was what made him go back in time, that strong desire to want to make things right and that determination to say "this isn't true." It can end like this, I decide what is going to happen" (free will) I think that is what makes him finally able to control the situation, love is the most powerful force. Something similar happens in the movie "Tomorrowland" I think.

This scene is really powerful, the background music, the phrases that Loki says, the context of the scene, it is cinema. I think you don't need an action scene or scenes for a scene to be epic and move you. This is epic with so little, it is simple but effective. And the music is really the icing on the cake, it is so hopeful and gives strength to the moment when Loki returns to the TVA being able to fulfill his mission, I cried. Loki has evolved into a hero who saves the day and everyone.

And that ending??! Oh no the cliffhanger again..

Phew I know this was very long but I really needed this kind of catharsis, never has a Loki episode left me with so many emotions and beautiful things like this one. I laughed, I got excited, I cried and I was scared. I am very happy with the evolution of Loki and each episode that passes wins my heart more, I can't wait to see the next chapter. Everything is perfect in this series, the music, the settings, the actors, etc. It shows that it is made with the heart

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #loki laufeyson #loki 2 #loki series #loki season 2 #loki s2 #mobius m mobius #loki #lokius #loki show #loki spoilers #loki season two #oroboros #ob loki #hunter b 15 #sylvie #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #sophia di martino #loki disney+ #disney plus #loki 2x05

[roomtemeraturemysterymilk]

The lost, the geeks, the rejects, the losers

The wrong, the freaks, the hopeless, the future

#bnha #my hero academia #mha #ojiro mashirao #mezo shoji #fumikage tokoyami #koda koji #my edits 😌 #Spotify

[anxiousgoblinsworld]

writeblr intro!

Hello! ^_^ I'm new to the writeblr community so I suppose I should introduce myself!

⚔️ Some random useless facts about me:

Kayla, she/her, 27

asexual/somewhere between sex-repulsed and indifferent

creative writing student

nature lover, hiking, boating, riding the horses

but also very lazy

renaissance fairs and the ocean are my safe places

i enjoy learning about a wide variety of topics but my favorite subjects to geek out about are swords, sharks and kpop/kdramas

My dream is to one day be able to write full time. A few years ago I was at the lowest I've ever been in my depression and stopped writing entirely but I've recently picked it back up and I'm trying to find my footing again.

I've never sought out a writing community before, so despite my rising anxiety around sharing my work, I've finally created this blog where I plan to share any and all of my WIPs

I've been sitting on this draft (that I absolutely love) for just about two years now, and I've decided it's finally time to attempt the arduous task of overcoming my anxiety which means actually allowing myself to write with the goal of publishing/sharing the story.

I primarily write dark fantasy which almost always contains magical elements and because I'm asexual, everything I write is "clean fiction". The sexy stuff makes me un-comfy so I avoid it as much as I can in both my reading and writing. However I am a hopeless romantic so a lot of my stories do contain romantic subplots.

My storylines tend to be very character driven. I'm a sucker for good character development and relationship building

⚔️ My WIPS

I'm in the process of rebranding it as this project did begin as a ff that I fell in love with writing and am now working toward making publishable. The main concept is remaining the same but I'm currently building an entirely new world, adding probably too many new characters and giving it a much more "fantasy" vibe

I plan for it to be a series centered around 5 main characters, with each novel written from a different perspective. This is the first of the five.

🗡️In the Mind of an Assassin

Known as the most feared assassin in Koszmar, Jax is deadly in both looks and skills. Never has he been bested at what he does - until now. But the one thing which may very well lead to Jax's demise is the last thing anyone expected - a child.

#writeblr #my writing #writeblr intro #new writers on tumblr #writers on tumblr #female writers #asexual writer #writing community

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Code Wayne

“Head’s up, Quinn. Possible Code Wayne incoming.”

Quinn muttered a curse, and redoubled her scanning of the crowds pressing up to her charge. It didn’t take long for her to spot what Benji had seen, a woman about her age, with a photogenic little boy in her arms. Her starstruck gaze was locked firmly on Quinn’s charge – the first man on the moon, and the world’s darling: Colonel Jeff Tracy.

The media covering the mission had made much of his wife, Lucy, and even more of their three photogenic sons: toddling and precocious Scott and John, and baby Virgil, who had been famously banished to a sound-proof booth, because the tiny infant had somehow managed to snore loud enough to interfere with Mission Control’s active microphones in the lead-up to the descent to the lunar surface.

Fans of the astronaut had been quick to lock onto that fact, and parents, hell even grandparents and aunts and uncles, were flocking to him with progeny in tow, hoping their child would attract the man’s attention, and maximise their time with the hero of hour, and secure an autograph, a photograph with their idol. And standing next to him while he held your child while he was filmed for a news broadcast, or photographed by the paparazzi for a newspaper or magazine? That was winning the lottery for these people.

One thing that none of them ever counted on was the intensity of the situation, there were people and shouting and the various dignitaries who were hosting whatever event this was were all trying to maximise their time with the astronauts, and stick to a predetermined schedule; none of the astronauts were able to focus on any one thing for long, despite their best efforts.

The other thing they hadn’t factored into the decision to shove their kid at a random stranger was how comfortable the man was around kids. Quinn had quickly discovered that Jeff was one of those people who genuinely liked kids. He gave his sons as much time as he could, and was often spotted with one of the older boys on his hip, and either Virgil cradled in his other arm, or the other toddler hanging off his arm, and trotting alongside him. So it was as natural as breathing for the man to be holding a child, and he had an alarming tendency to let himself be drawn on, still holding onto a random child that had been thrust at him.

There had been a couple of scenes – that the media had, uncharacteristically, refrained from reporting to the world – with theatrically hysterical parents, still hoping for their fifteen seconds of fame. But mostly it was a bewildered looking parent standing in the astronaut’s wake, watching as their child disappeared off into the crowd with their hero.

It was a situation that Quinn had never expected to have to deal with when she had been made the handler and personal assistant to the Colonel, and her colleagues all thought it was as funny as hell. Benji, the hopeless geek, had been the one who dubbed the situation ‘Code Wayne’, after his favourite comic book character, Batman’s, apparent tendency to adopt any unattended child he comes across.

Luckily, Jeff was just embarrassed by the whole thing, and each time sheepishly handed the child back to their rightful guardian, usually with a comment along the lines of: “Whoops, that one’s not mine.”

His wife just laughed, and commented that it would have been a way for Jeff to fulfil his ‘personal football team’ ambitions with less discomfort on her part.

None of the other astronaut’s handlers had to deal with this, Quinn often grumbled to herself. Why did she get stuck with the one with the child fetish?

Quinn sighed as the woman finally fought her way to front of the crowd, and faked a stumble, to cover shoving her kid at Jeff. It was one of the higher-risk manoeuvres Quinn had seen. There was no danger to the boy – Jeff had automatically caught him before he had dropped a millimetre, but the mother was only saved from a humiliating faceplant in the dirt by a reporter.

She heard Benji and Dominic groan beside her as the woman was immediately the centre of attention, as all three of the astronauts, as well as the local VIPs set about assuring themselves that she was alright. If this made the news, there would be women literally throwing themselves at the all the time.

Quinn risked a glance towards the ranks film journalists, the uniform scowls of the cameramen reassured her: clearly there was no clean shot of the incident, to her delight and the networks’ dismay.

By the time Quinn returned her attention to her charge, the city’s mayor had regained the attention of his distinguished guests, and was ushering them along towards a large stage set up nearby, and … yep, there was Jeff with the kid, obediently trotting after him, the two other astronauts smirking in his wake, and the mother staring open-mouthed, one arm reaching out after her child.

Quinn deployed her elbows to get through the crowd, snagging the mother and dragging with her. She managed to reach out and tap Jeff on the elbow, he glanced over his shoulder and started at the sight of his ‘handler’ glaring at him with a stunned young woman at her shoulder. Quinn pointed at the child, and crossed her arms.

Jeff looked down, apparently surprised at the presence of the child, before the tips of his ears turned red – his version of blushing, she had learned – and sheepishly offered the boy out to his rightful parent.

“Sorry,” he said, “guess I’m missing my boys.”

Quinn rolled her eyes in despair.

Forty years later, Quinn groaned and rolled her eyes. Some silly young girl was staring in shock as the world-famous billionaire casually strolled away with the little girl she had pushed into his arms not five minutes ago.

Mustering up a reassuring smile for the girl – dear God, was she even out of high school? Or was Quinn just getting old? – she stepped up behind Jeff, and touched his elbow.

“Hey, Batman,” she said softly enough that only he could hear, “that one’s not up for adoption.”

Jeff started, and stared at the little girl looking back up at him in bewilderment. Then he flushed, and turned back to the mother who reached out for her daughter.

Jeff smiled sheepishly. “Whoops,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red. “That one’s not mine.”

Quinn didn’t have to be able to see them to know that his sons had simultaneously rolled their eyes, and groaned in despair.

Notes:

I’m afraid one of the possibilities of my recent theorising about the reason the Tracys relocated to Tracy Island bit hard and wouldn’t let go. (And I needed a bit of a change of speed from trying to write for Febuwhump.)

Quinn’s code name for the situation is definitely @Yarol2075’s fault!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds 1965 #jeff tracy #celebrity #people giving kids to famous strangers #fanfic #my fanfic

[mayg0espostal]

Okay, Postal Dude headcanons time

[These are mostly for P2 but aply them to any postal dude you want]

He has no idea what he's doing most of the time.

He barely showers, if even at all. At least like, once a week or something. Or like once a month, if he even bothers.

He really likes eating junk food because it calms him down, pizza being his favorite comfort food. He also has a really fast metabolism so he can eat a lot and not gain any weight.

He's a HUGE geek, unironically enjoys anime and manga but if anyone asks him he'll say like "Me? Liking anime? Sure. In your fucking dreams." or something like that lol.

He has a really difficult time expressing empathy, even when he really feels like something he said/did is wrong, he can't admit it.

Jokes and remarks are a defense mechanism to him, using catchphrases and random one liners so he can feel under control.

He wishes that his life wasn't so shitty, maybe being rich or something like that, but he has accepted that it's basically impossible.

He's also a hopeless romantic, but tries to keep all that "mushy shit" on the backline. Probably had a lot of partners during his younger years but couldn't keep them for the life of him. Also kills his partners when they don't work out.

Strangely into cospiracy theories? Like 5G causes cancer and COVID-19 type shit. He wasn't very well educated as a child as he was home schooled by his mom so a bit of bigotry passed to him. A slightly homophobic bi? sounds like someone i knew

QUICK FIRE TIME

Big sadomasochist. Doesn't really need explanation.

He can't swim, never learned how to swim.

Totally a furry, 100% has a fursona that's like DEATH BRINGER THE WOLF or something lol.

He's a really shitty driver. Robbed a car once and immediately destroyed it.

Has NPD but extreme self-esteem issues.

Wets himself while sleeping way too constantly. (Pee/Wet dreams)

Speaking of pee he totally has a piss kink. and extremely dehydrated

i think that's all. if there's more will be added in reblogs

#postal #postal dude #postal 2 #headcanons #my headcanons #headcanon

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Batman and Scarecrow are two sides of the same coin.

Batman instills fear. Scarecrow instills fear.

The difference is their personal reasons for doing so. Batman wants to save everyone, the weak and hopeless, those who can not defend themselves. Scarecrow wants revenge, for all those who suffered at the hands of bullies and cruel abusers.

But their lives are differ starkly. Batman lost his parents to a thug, and despite that lived a life some people can only dream of. Scarecrow, depending on the origin was abused by those closest to him, and every person on earth saw him as a gangly geek who couldn't even afford a nice suit for teaching.

They are not the same, and yet....

They mirror each other. One is the very bully he fights against, and the other is a hero, beloved by all. Both make the world afraid, but not for the same reason. This is why Scarecrow--imho---should be Batman's flagship villain, not Joker.

Scarecrow is all that batman despises, and all that he fears.

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Batman #DC #DC Scarecrow #DC Comics #Text Posts

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do something for Junkrat x reader, where the reader is a totally and utterly hopeless geek?? Just knows so much shit about computers, robots, just machines in general far more then they do with other people?? Please and thank you!!

Junkrat w/ a geeky!S/O

WAHOO!! Hope you enjoy!!

Lightly teases you, but not in the mean way, if that makes sense? Though he will cut it out if you tell him you don't like it

Introduces you as his "super smart and cool y/n", has his arm casually slung across your shoulder as he has this huge grin on his face

Regardless of if you're a shy and soft spoken geek, or a confident and self assured geek; Jamison is gonna wreck anyone who dares say anything mean about you or your interests

Doesn't fully understand most of the things you ramble on about and work with, but boy can this man listen

Literally sits down and looks at you with these big ol eyes as he lets you talk... probably one of the few times he's still and focusing all his attention on something

Goes to you with "brilliant" ideas of combining your knowledge of tech, and his knowledge of explosives in some sort of funky collab

Looks like he's about to combust if you actually agree to one of his ideas

He can relate to you on the whole "understanding (interest) more than understanding people" thing; I mean he only really has Roadhog by his side, and sure, they get along.. but outside of that I feel like Junkrat struggles with connecting intimately with others, add in the fact hes always giving 110% of his energy..

He gets it, really

Purposefully asks dumb questions about tech related stuff just so he can see your eyes light up, because in your eyes you came to him for answers and that look you get just makes him soft on the inside

#overwatch imagines #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch junkrat #overwatch #overwatch 2 #junkrat x you #junkrat x reader #junkrat

[mechanical-magician]

BOMB RUSH CYBERFUNK HEADCANONS: DOT EXE EDITION

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

Headcanon Directory >>

> As we see, their base is in the Millennium Mall. They're hideout is specifically located in the second hand store that they also run. Serves as a base and a form of income.

> The names of their members are EIGHT.exe , NINE.html , FIVE.png , TWO.mp3 , and CUE.mp4

> While in game they say that they're all as old as the Old Heads, for this headcanon they all vary wildly in age. EIGHT is 146, NINE is 99, FIVE is 74, TWO is 45, and CUE is 22

> Also don't worry about our man EIGHT.exe, he was repaired by his crew! He's their leader and the crew did well to make sure nothing was lost.

> DOT EXE is made up of people who gave up their human bodies because it was considered hopeless for them. EIGHT.exe gave up his body because his was too old to press on. NINE.html gave up theirs after a horrific car accident left his body virtually destroyed. FIVE.png was blind and got a cryberhead to fix it, to which he eventually gave up the rest of his body to join the crew. TWO.mp3 was crippled from the waist down and like FIVE.png, gave up his whole body eventually to join the crew. Finally, CUE.mp4's reason for giving up his humanity is unknown, especially for someone so young.

> CUE.mp4 might also have a crush on one of the Devil Theory members

> Listen we all know these guys are gamers, but you also know damn well that they host a KILLER DND night on Tuesdays. They go super over the top with everything

> 100 gecs

> Whenever someone asks about where the other numbers are, they'll all say "Don't know them yet, could be you. If you're cool enough of course LOL."

> They want to eventually have the full billards set

> Because they're all robot (except in mind), they're able to perfectly copy previous graffiti they've done!

> Their jump suits are actually all ones that EIGHT.exe had when he was a part of the Old Heads.

> EIGHT.exe wanted the Old Heads to join him, but they wanted to keep what humanity they could. EIGHT still misses them a lot

> Ever since the EIGHT.exe incident, the crew's been trying to figure out how to hear police signals without being caught

> Their heads don't have a hatch for liquids because they don't need nutrients anymore

> DOT EXE gets the award for being the most obnoxious geeks in New Amsterdam (affectionate)

#bomb rush cyberfunk #bomb rush cyberfunk headcanons #brc dot exe #dot exe

[shrimpathizer]

Welcome

always open to being sent asks! (about anything). (what is something u wonder (about me or anything else), something u thought was funny, a story, a cat picture, idk.) i love talking to people

I deleted my intro post and I am so sad about it. anyway.

I'm Miso (like the soup). I'm a minor and I use any pronouns.

I like writing (&poetry!) and circus. 📝🎪

My sideblogs are:

@noodlecankilljod (for the locked tomb. contains spoilers)

@a-nice-place (for when you're feeling down. co-run by @sashisusupremacy and @rumplestiltsbear)

@consonant-counter (because I wanted to try a gimmick) (also co-run by those two)

@makingmylittleartgallery (for others art) (whole separate blog)

and @souroboruos (for my art specifically.) (whole separate blog)

👍🦐👍🦐👍🦐👍🦐👍🦐👍🦐👍🦐👍

Fandoms I'm in: doctor who, good omens, the locked tomb, lord of the rings, don't hug me i'm scared, sandman, and others that I can't remember.

🦐✨🦐✨🦐✨🦐✨🦐✨🦐✨🦐✨🦐

Mutuals (i haven't finished the list yet):

@sashisusupremacy @rumplestiltsbear @f1shpotatoes @eminsunnytoons123 @godmodebeginswithlesbians @subbrickintelligence @gym-leader-waffle @cum-roll @eepybubble @pilgrimposting @mmmgarlicbread @advisorsage @checkeredcookie05 @falcon-forest @icantleave @duck-life-is-not-an-option @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @attention-walmart-shoppers @domesticated-dragon @kxllboii @starberrydreamx @jaydubz98 @cheezekennith @frankly-ludicrous @dogsandcatsandmiscellaneousstuff @glitterdragonthegreatprotector @slaymaxuwu @kellesaurus @knifefightingbears @fandomsandwriting1 @drew-dopamine @dovand @hopeless-dykeromantic @nightkit92 @theydontknowimhere @one-happy-silent-geek-girl @famousmortimer @burn-like-starss @hardcoreparkour @powercoreact @winggy-wanggy-doobledoo @cloudydays69 @gayfraggle

💛🦐💛🦐💛🦐💛🦐💛🦐💛🦐💛🦐💛

Tag system:

#banger post -> great post. love

#classic post -> 2019 or earlier. because why not.

#whoah art -> art

#miso speaks -> original posts (i have bangers i think)

🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐☀️🦐

For quick access (to be updated):

Art

Positivity

My art/writing

Music

Internet resources

Funny posts

Art resources

#miso speaks #about me #intro post

[ayanominitrash]

I See What You See (Shoko Ieiri x reader)

You’re a conspiracy theorist geek who believes in aliens. Your quiet friend-of-a-friend, Shoko Ieiri, doesn’t understand your obsession and almost seems to make fun of you for it. Next thing you know, the two of you gape at each other at an anticipated alien sighting event.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Studying at a local college, you’ve recently been adopted by the ever-animated Satoru Gojo into his own friend group. That being said, you’re only closest to Satoru, and only starting to get to know his other friend, Suguru Geto. The last member, on the other hand, was still a total stranger to you - Ieiri Shoko. 

She’s mostly kept to herself. You find the short-haired brunette either reading a book, texting on her phone, or smoking a cigarette out on the school grounds -  sometimes all of the above at the same time. She’d join the group’s conversation here and there, and most of the time she’d scold the two boys whenever they got too noisy over their usual banter or when they were bickering over something stupid. 

Ieiri would only spare a glance at you to somewhat acknowledge your presence. It felt like she was actively ignoring you and didn’t approve of your new membership into their small circle of friends. One time, you did try to subtly leave and distance yourself, feeling unwanted, but Satoru would only rope you back in. And when you tried to befriend the quiet girl, she would only peek at you over her book or over her phone before tensing up her shoulders, offering quiet and abrupt answers to any of your questions for the sake of conversations. 

You feel a little hopeless. 

While this was your situation with your in-real-life friends, the place where you truly feel like you belong to a community is on your online forums for conspiracy junkies. Yes, that’s you. You’d let your eyes burn in radiation as you read through articles and articles of conspiracy theories, alien sightings, documentaries, backrooms, icebergs, etc.! The tapping of fingers against keyboard keys can be heard until the wee hours of the morning as you share your opinions with other members of the forum. You’d only bring up this obsession of yours once in a blue moon with your group of friends because you’re still unsure if they’d find you weird for this, your mission to befriend Ieiri was already on thin ice.

“Hey, I’m talking here y/n. Are you even listening? This is some important hot pipping tea I’m spilling.”

The white-haired boy snaps his fingers in front of your face as you’re seated on his right in the school cafeteria. You finally look up from your phone and see that Suguru is nibbling on his sandwich with a miserable look on his face, while Ieiri is drinking her juice box, looking bored as ever. 

“I don’t think you blabbering about how Miss Mei Mei and Principal Yaga would look good together is important.” You finally say after observing the scene before you.

His eyebrows shot up over his round sunglasses, “You kidding? Everyone’s been talking about it! Why aren’t you guys into school gossip? It can be so boring sometimes with the three of you.” 

“Satoru,” Suguru says once his mouth isn’t full. “It’s not nice to spread rumors, especially about our school heads.”

“It’s not really that entertaining,” Ieiri adds, talking around the straw in her mouth. “It’s just a bunch of old people not having any action cause they’re too busy with their work. How mundane.”

“See, for once though I didn’t make up the rumors this time. I got it through word of mouth. That counts for something right? Y/n, back me up?” When he notices you using your phone again, he snaps his fingers at you one more time. “Seriously, I’m getting hurt. Are you texting with someone?” 

“Hmm? Sorry, Satoru. I’m just engulfed in this article.” You say without taking your eyes off the phone, making Satoru lean closer to you to check out what you’re reading.

He starts to read aloud, “ ‘This Friday, a predicted sighting of an alien time-traveling portal will appear in this address’ -” The tall man leans back to give you an incredulous look. “There you are again. Are you actually planning to go to this event?” 

As the subject of your obsession is brought up on the table, your eyes sweep across the group to assess their reaction. Suguru only raises an eyebrow inquisitively, and when your pupils land on Ieiri, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

She was pulling a face, as if she was weirded out by you.

You felt like a creep under her gaze. 

“W-well, I don’t know really know, hahaha…”You start to say, pocketing your phone absent-mindedly now that all of the attention is on you. “I mean, I read stuff like that but, I’m not that into it, you know? It’s just for shits and giggles. To kill time.”

Satoru scoffs at you, “Yeah right. It’s basically your whole being. You probably eat the moon landing farce articles for breakfast.” 

You glare at him, internally cursing at him for exposing you even more and making you feel ten times embarrassed. He only shrugs at your hostile look. 

Suguru closes his lunch box as he finishes his snack. “If you’re thinking of going, you should make sure it’s safe. Do you want us to come with you?” 

Before you can say anything, you’re surprised to hear a third voice. 

“On a Friday night with other geeks? I’d rather get wasted.” Ieiri says, staring directly at you. Suguru chuckles at this, making you sink further into your seat. 

“Ah, if you’re going to the bar, at least have Ioiri go with you.” The raven-haired man says, and you think to yourself that he’s the mother of the group with how much he looks out for everyone. “Or maybe they allow drinks at y/n’s event. Do they?”

With the spotlight back on you, your shoulders reach up to your ears in your humiliation as you start to lie, “Don’t worry about it! I’m not going so you guys can go to the bar. I have a paper due next week and I’ll focus on that so, hahaha…”

Satoru throws his head back in boredom, “Borrringggg. I’m not in the mood to do either of those. Suguru, want to play Animal Crossing instead?”

It was Suguru’s turn to be embarrassed, “Who says I play that? Shut up Satoru.”

As your white-haired friend pouts at Suguru, you try to not meet the only pair of eyes left on you, aware of their curious gaze making your face burn.

The weekend rolls in and you find yourself standing in the middle of an abandoned parking lot just on the outskirts of your small town. It was already night time and the stars glittered up above you as if they were dancing at the crowd of the conspiracy theories enthusiasts growing gradually below them. You can see how some of them dressed up for the occasion, with some going for the galactic theme. In comparison to you with your black shirt with a print of some type of Monopoly Mandela Effect, a short purple-checkered skirt with some low boots on. This simple outfit earned you a couple of compliments here and there. 

You purposely arrived an hour early before the predicted sighting of the portal to meet up with the forum members whom you’d constantly chat with. You stare at the screen if any of them have arrived yet. 

[You]: anyone here yet? 

[You]: sent a photo.

[You]: its early but a lot of peeps already here.

[aLiEnSaREreA]: stuck in traffic :(( 

[FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms]: waitin for this guy @aliensarereals

[FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms]: then otw

[IeireadyOrNot]:@you im here. come to the back.

[IeireadyOrNot]: sitting by the wrecked cars.

[You]:@IeireadyOrNot aight.

Trudging through the tall grass and through the sea of your fellow geeks, you make your way to the darkest part of the venue, spotting a silhouette of a small person who seems to be smoking a cigarette while leaning against a run-down car. You bring out your phone again to use the flashlight to guide your path. No one else seems to be at that part of the parking lot so you assume that they’re the person you just chatted with. As soon as you’re within earshot, you lift your phone up to light your internet friend and greet them, but you stop in your tracks with your mouth agape.

Your supposed internet friend was wearing the same look you probably have right now, except they have a lit cigarette in between their lips. 

And except it was Ieiri. 

With green alien ears for a headband. 

You almost drop your phone as your eyes widen at the short brunette. You watch as a read streak across her face immediately forms in her realization and you can’t help but bend at your stomach and start laughing. 

Ieiri lets out an exasperated huff, clouds of smoke coming out through her lips along with it. “What’s so funny?!” Feeling self-conscious, she can’t help but remove the headband from on top of her head, which made your laughter die down a bit.

“No - don’t take it off! Y-you look too cute with it.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling and laughing too hard. Your hands fly up to place her headband back in its rightful place.

She almost wacks your hands away, “Then what the fuck are you laughing about?”

Her crudeness caught you a bit off guard but you brushed it off. How can you bother yourself being hurt or scared of your shorter acquaintance when she’s got those cute little alien ears on? Or at this point, she might as well be your bestie with how long the two of you chat through the online forums you’re always on.

How ironic. 

“Nothing, it’s just…It’s funny seeing you here, considering how you just made fun of me a few days ago.” You say as you hoist yourself up on the car, sitting on the hood while Ieiri remains standing, leaning her backside against the front of the sorry excuse of a vehicle. 

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” She replies whilst she puts out her cigarette under her shoe.

“Then what was with the face?”

“Face?” Ieiri pauses, humming in thought. “I was just…shy I guess.”

“Shy? Right.” You chuckle, obviously not believing her. You think that she’s a quiet person but not because she’s shy. It’s probably because she has so little patience to deal with anything she thinks isn’t important.

The brunette throws a glare over her shoulder at the sarcastic tone of your voice. “I was! I don’t really talk about this stuff because…it’s…weird.”

“It’s not - “

“Plus, those two idiots will never let me hear the end of it. They’ll just tease me ‘till my ears bleed off.”

“But they were kinda nice about it with me though? Suguru even - “

“They were just being nice, y/n.” She deadpans. “You’re new to the group so they’re still testing the waters with how you respond to their, how should I put this, harassment?”

“Why? Did they say something…er, about me?” There’s a small uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach to think that your friends would make fun of you behind your back.

She catches your nervousness and shakes her head, “Satoru just likes to annoy people. Suguru’s no help either.”

You sigh in relief. When her reply was met with silence, she looked at you over her shoulder and saw you smiling at her. 

“Sorry, it’s just that this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

The red streak on her cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed and you can’t help but chuckle at how you can still see it even though it was dark. 

“We chat almost every day so I don’t think the statement is true.”

“No, I mean, in real life. You’re always so quiet like you’re purposely doing it because you probably don’t like me.”

She whips her head back at you with a startled look. “That’s not true! I do like you!”

It was your turn to blush. Ieiri realizes the weight of her words and buries her face into her hands. “It’s - It’s - “

“Um, hahaha…It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

“Like I said, I’m too shy.” She says with her voice muffled by her hand covering her face. “Or I just kinda like you too much.”

“Like with me being a friend right? You probably had a feeling I was the one chatting with you. Then why are you so cold to me in real life?”

Ieiri looks back at you one more time, her lips in a tight line, the blush on her cheeks still evident. 

And you think you understood what she meant - what she meant when she said she liked you.

You can’t help but be the first one to break eye contact and move your gaze over to the now full venue. The brunette beauty flits her own eyes to the crowd. 

Not knowing what to say, you try to buy time by pretending to check on your GC’s updates:

[aLiEnSaREreA]: car broke down!!

[aLiEnSaREreA]: adjfhdjf hajdhfan vjkg!!

- aLiEnSaREreA is offline - 

[FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms]: idk if we gonna make it :((

[FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms]: if u go through the portal

[FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms]: tell them i said hi

-FeelinCuteMightTripToTheBackrooms is offline - 

[IeireadyOrNot]: this may be like once in a lifetime event

[IeireadyOrNot]: you guys suck

- IeireadyOrNot is offline - 

[You]: :(( 

“Nice screen name by the way. I don’t know why I didn’t think it was you.” You say as you lift your head up from staring at your phone. The short girl stays quiet.

“Ieiri? I- “

“Shh! It’s almost starting.” She says softly without looking at you. 

Your heart pounds in anticipation as you remember what you were here in this ugly parking lot for. The crowd cheers and starts a countdown. You join in at number 4. 

3…

2…

1…

It all went quiet.

No one moves for a couple of minutes before some start to swivel their heads around, checking for any anomaly nearby. 

Nothing. 

Ieiri lights a cigarette.

You bring your knees up to your chest wrapping your arms around your legs in your disappointment. Your friend eventually sits up on the hood of the car with you and wordlessly offers the lit cancer stick to you. You accept.

After you take a drag, you pass it to her. “Ieiri?”

“Hmm?”

“I think…I think I like you too.”

You hear her hold her breath before her face breaks into a small smile at you with a shaky giggle.

“You like me, or do you like ‘Ieireadyornot’?” 

“Aren’t they the same person?” 

She hums, looking at you with soft eyes as content washes over her expression. Suddenly, both of you freeze in your spots once a commotion in the crowd begins.

The both of you spot Suguru and Satoru amongst the crowd, sporting their matching green alien fur coats. The two of you girls look at each other before laughing, clearly seeing that Satoru is upset about the event being a hoax, and with Suguru only looking at him with his own dissatisfaction. 

“I guess you don’t have to worry about their teasing then!” You tell her, finally settling down from laughing, then intertwining your fingers through hers. “Guess we’re all geeks.”

She squeezes her hand in yours.

“You think they’re the other two people in our GC?” Ieiri puffs out.

You can’t help but laugh again at all the coincidences.

Your internet friends are just the same as your in-real-life-friends.

And your internet crush is also your in-real-life crush. 

Maybe you were the alien. Maybe you were the one who had a secret time-traveling portal because right now, everything feels like you’re in another dimension, one that you can only dream of. 

With Ieiri staring softly at you, her eyes holding galaxies. 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // I have no idea how I ended up writing for Shoko when I'm supposed to keep writing for Daddy Suguru AHAHAH

#shoko ieiri fluff #conspiracy theories #jjk ieiri #jjk satoru #jjk geto #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko ieiri x you #jujustu kaisen #fanfic #lgbtq+ #gayyyy #aliens