#i know that sounds childish to say but idk how else to express it beyond

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Hikaru + Tease Crush🌌

Summary: Aaaa idk tsundere hikaru brain go brrrrrr,.

A/N: Lowkey, I’m not too sure about this one. But, how good it is comes down to how well it’s received by you guys. It’s in your hands now tumblr!!

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🌗Hikaru Hitachiin🌗

You, a new second year at Ouran Middle School, happened to meet Hikaru and Kaoru in a once in a blue moon situation

✨Separately✨

You and your parents were commoners from another region of Japan. But, due to trying times, you were sent to live with your impossibly wealthy grandparents to finish your education while your parents got back on their feet

So, you clearly had no idea how to navigate what felt like the world’s biggest campus

Taking initiative, you decided to take a free period to mentally map out at least the middle school campus. You were not about to be late to every single class again, lest you start getting detention

You were somewhere near the courtyard when you heard soft, delicate sobs from around the corner, followed by fast footsteps leading away from you

You quickened your pace to at least see what was going on, and the scene you walked in on told you everything you needed to know

The sobs were coming from a girl in your year, who seemed eager to get away from the courtyard. And leaning on the pillar on the bend, was a tall redhead who looked far too satisfied with himself. At least if your assumptions were correct

You decided not to go off on the boy right away, so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself

“Ah...Did I intrude on something?”

The boy apparently hadn’t noticed you until you said something, but quickly regained his composure

“Nah, you had good timing. We were just finishing up.”

“...We?”

Hikaru suddenly remembered

You were new to Ouran. And at this point, you probably haven’t memorized faces yet. Even if they were identical

That, and the fact that Kaoru was still behind a bush watching everything play out, was enough for Hikaru to try something new

“Me and that girl you saw, I mean.”

“Yeah, alright. What’s your deal with her, by the way? She didn’t sound too happy.”

Hikaru shrugged, “Dishonesty, disloyalty, stuff like that. I just gave her a piece of my mind and she couldn’t handle it.”

“Hm, I figured she couldn’t. She’s crying pretty hard.”

“Then she shouldn’t have been trying to sneak around with other guys.”

Alright...you halfway understood the guy. If you were in his shoes, you’d at least want to do something similar. But, going out of your way to emotionally decimate someone that clearly isn’t worth your time? Seems a little excessive

‘But, hey,’ you thought. ‘To each their own.’

You kept your composure around the boy, shrugging and turning to walk away. “I get that. What did you say your name was?”

“Mm? Hikaru.”

“Hikaru. If that girl’s really as horrible as you say she is, I think it’s hilarious that you’d give her pathetic ass the time of day.”

That jab technically wasn’t aimed at Hikaru, but the way you said it. The way you turned back slightly to flash a shit-eating grin at him. It was clear your comment was meant to say more about Hikaru than the girl he told off

In short, Hikaru ended up not liking you

Meeting Kaoru went a bit more smoothly

Since you were in Class B at the time (you were to transfer to Class A next semester), you didn’t actually gather that the asshole you met the other day had a whole brother. So, that case of whiplash was particularly strong

During a lunch period within the same year, you decided to sit alone. Nothing personal really, but being around twenty-four other kids your age with such a high amount of tunnel vision gets suffocating at a certain point

Not too far away, Hikaru had gotten up to use the bathroom, leaving Kaoru to his own devices for a bit

It wasn’t long before he found a familiar face in you, sitting alone and looking rather bored

Of course, Kaoru hadn’t personally talked to you yet. The only things he heard about you were from Hikaru, which still wasn’t much, considering that his brother seemed too embarrassed and pissed to say anything beyond: “They’re an asshole. They’re not worth talking to.”

But, regardless of Hikaru’s first impression of you, Kaoru thought it would be fun to mess with you for a bit

I’m fully convinced you have the eagle eye, because you noticed Kaoru before he even said anything

“If you’re still pressed about what I said the other day, Hikaru, trust me, I was just messing with you.”

Damn at least let him speak 💀

Kaoru noticed that even though you thought he was Hikaru, your posture and tone held no animosity. You seemed relaxed, even sending a half smile Kaoru’s way

Your aura felt overall likable, so what could you have said to Hikaru to tick him off so much??

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I actually almost forgot about that.”

Immediately, something didn’t click with you

“You sound different today, man. Everything okay?”

...What??

Kaoru wasn’t sure how you figured it out, but no one was usually able to tell the difference between his and Hikaru’s voices and speech patterns, period. Let alone upon hearing both twins once separately

“What do you mean...? I’ve always sounded like this?”

“Hm, must be a bad case of laryngitis then. How’s your twin doing, by the way?”

Kaoru’s expression didn’t betray much, but your knowing and lighthearted smile sure did

He originally wasn’t going to tell you the whole truth. But, you seemed like you’d be too much fun (given some time) to pass up getting on your good side!

It almost felt strange, inviting someone else into his and Hikaru’s little world. But, even if you were just a toy for now, you were someone Kaoru wanted to keep around 

Kaoru introduced himself with his real name while he explained his relationship with Hikaru, and your face was priceless

Sure, you knew that the boy in front of you wasn’t acting like the Hikaru you met a few days back. But, the twin brother thing was a complete shot in the dark!!

But, Kaoru laughed and dragged you and your lunch to his and Hikaru’s table

Ooh, when I say Hikaru was NOT thrilled??

He was seething when you gave him that same look as before

“Hey there, Heartbreaker. Nice to see you again.” 😊😊🙃🙃

Hikaru flushed as Kaoru tried to hide his giggles behind his hand

Yeah, that kind of sums up your dynamic 😂

From then on, whenever you were around the twins, you drove a clear wedge in their “identical” personalities. Just by the fact that you treated them both differently

Kaoru was your partner in crime, playing along with your jokes and often taking more agency in making decisions than usual. You were both mature, yet mischievous, so you were often on the same page

We stan compatible friends 👏😌

Hikaru...was kind of your sentient punching bag

From your first conversation with him to now, you gathered that Hikaru had a weirdly prominent petty streak, with some emotional constipation on the side. All of this, manifesting in a semi-childish, stubborn mess with a hair-trigger temper (At least, when it comes to you and Kaoru poking at him)

You weren’t exactly intent on improving those flaws (Since it’s technically not your job to fix the vices of others), but you most certainly let Hikaru know that those qualities weren’t something to be proud of. Especially when he let them get the better of him

And you did just that by teasing the hell out of him

“Aww, is little Hikaru upset that Italian isn’t being served at lunch today??”

“Ooh, don’t get too angry! You might pop a vein.”

“Y’know, you’d think a normal human being wouldn’t blush as much as you do. Are you really that bothered by me?”

Yes! He was!

He felt bothered and threatened because you dragged out every single flaw that no one (not even Kaoru) dared to call out until now. Not that he could give a name to that feeling an the moment

You were surprisingly clairvoyant for someone that strategically abused that fact. You always had an upper hand, and that wasn’t something Hikaru was used to

But, after a while, his frequent showcases of embarrassment began happening for a different reason

In between all of the teasing, you were never downright mean to Hikaru. You were just as nice to him as you were to Kaoru

Hikaru often enjoyed the bentos you made the twins on random days (Though, he failed to admit it on a regular basis)

When the teacher was going a little too fast, you’d always let Hikaru copy off of your notes

And man, you sure did look good at the beginning of the day...when the morning sun lights up your eyes, and-

Oh...

Oh no.

So, that’s why every time you’d get on Hikaru’s case, he would get flustered and look away. He liked you??

Hikaru can’t let anyone know about this. Especially you.

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

#caravan commodities #extra supplies #ouran high school host club #ohshc headcanons #ohshc x reader #hikaru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin headcanons #hikaru hitachiin x reader #hikaru x reader #why do i have a knack for writing full novels in a single post? #i have no idea!! #will i stop? #no!!

[myriadimagines]

Lost Time

The Umbrella Academy One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Number Five

Other Characters: —

Warnings: mentions of death

Summary: Five and his twin sister, y/n, catch up with one another for the first time in 16 years.

Word Count: 1,252

A/N: i don’t really feel like explaining why i wanted to write this but i need to get thoughts down and five fit best with the concept i had in mind so :) this is set in season 1 so no worries about potential spoilers. i’m sorry for not keeping the reader gender neutral (i was basically inserting myself into this akshdas) also idk why i chose to do this in third person instead of second like i normally do but here we are. i was going to make this longer but decided to quit while i was ahead.

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

A coffee break seems trivial in the wake of the apocalypse, but Five sits in the small diner nonetheless, nursing an empty, coffee stained mug. He taps his shoe against the tile, impatient as always, knowing that every second wasted is precious. 

He looks up as the door chimes, sees y/n wrapped in a dark coat. She doesn’t need to look around the room to know which booth to sit at, making her way to the corner where she and Five used to sit as kids, sneaking out the Hargreeves mansion late at night for donuts and other sugary midnight treats they could get their hands on.

“You’re late.” Five deadpans as she sits down. It’s meant to be a jab, but she brushes it off with the air of someone who’s had to deal with such remarks all her life. She knows better than anyone that having to grow up with seven other siblings practically makes you immune to petty teasing and sarcasm. She shrugs off her coat, hands smoothing over a blouse underneath. She’s well dressed, Five notes, although he wouldn’t expect anything else from his twin.

y/n Hargreeves, Five quickly realised soon after arriving into 2019, grew up to be a sophisticated woman, with a mind as sharp as his. With the styled dark hair and the piercing eyes, the resemblance between the two of them is striking. Even still, with y/n in adulthood and Five trapped as a teenager, one can’t deny the similarities. 

“Good to see you too, Five,” y/n finally says, waving down a passing waitress as she rolls up the sleeves of her top. She smiles at the waitress, curtly nodding, “Some coffee, please.”

y/n slides her mug over to the waitress, who fills up the cup. Before she can depart, Five holds out his cup, and the waitress pauses before hesitantly filling it up. Tapping his finger against the table, Five remarks, “Leave the pot.” 

She blinks at him in surprise. “I—”

Five raises an eyebrow at her, expression stoic, and she hurriedly sets the coffee down, scuttling off. He takes it, filling his cup up to the brim. The novelty of coffee has yet to wear off for him, but he hopes it never does. After 60 years of being alone in an apocalyptic wasteland, coffee is one of the many pleasures that Five has come to appreciate. He gulps it down, frowning at the watery taste — far too weak for his liking. Rolling back his shoulders, he meets his twin’s gaze as he asks, “So, care to enlighten me about why we’re here?”

y/n smiles, slowly taking a sip of her own coffee. She knows her leisurely pace gets on her brother’s nerves. He was always so antsy as a child, rushing off and leaving her in the dust. She smacks her lips together, letting out a hum of appreciation, “Good coffee, isn’t it?”

“Could be stronger.” Five impatiently remarks. Shaking his head, he leans forward as he continues, “We don’t have time for thi—”

“Do you ever think about how much lost time there is between us?” y/n interrupts, and Five’s eyebrows furrow. She leans back in the booth, the leather creaking underneath her as she wraps her fingers around her mug. She traces a finger alongside the handle of the mug, moving along the curve, before continuing, “Some days I try not to. But I find myself coming back to it day after day.” 

Five doesn’t respond, because what can he say? He knows an apology means nothing, and what could he possibly apologize for? Sorry for getting stuck in the future, sorry for not being able to come back. He knows it’s futile, and so does y/n. 

But from the look on her face, Five knows that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. So after a moment’s consideration, Five finally responds, “So talk to me about it. All the time lost, fill me in. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?” 

He leans back, shooting her an expectant look. She studies his expression, eyes narrowed, before she takes a deep breath. “I was desolate when you went missing.”

Guilt rushes through Five’s body. He lowers his head, gaze dropping into his coffee. He can see his rippling reflection in the dark liquid, and he absently swirls the mug slightly. Suddenly, he can feel the weight of all the years him and y/n spent apart, violently ripped from one another’s lives to each face a world that they’ve never faced alone. As twins, the two were inseparable, no matter Reginald’s attempts to break that. And in the end, it wasn’t even Reginald who managed to tear them apart. No, Five managed that feat all by himself. 

He curses his arrogance now, curses his boisterous self. The apocalypse aged him more than anything else, burdened him with wisdom and knowledge beyond his age. It all comes in handy now, but at what cost?

“It was painful, at first,” y/n continues. “But the years blurred together after a while.”

Whatever childhood y/n had was stolen from her the day Five went missing, although she reckons there wasn’t much childish innocence left to begin with. It wasn’t long before Ben’s death shattered her further, and she damned the Umbrella Academy within her own mind. A loveless home that had taken everything from her, a cold house that left her empty. 

y/n didn’t know where life would take her, but she always thought one certainty she could rely on was her twin brother. Whatever would happen, he would have her back, until he didn’t. Once she left the academy, she tried living a normal life, tried at some semblance of being ordinary to cover up the childhood trauma. Went to college, got a job, dated around, even thought about starting a family. But with each milestone she hit, every goal that made her seem more normal, it served as a painful reminder of the years she had gone without her brother. A reminder of how old she was getting, and how she would never get to see Five get old with her. Even the few sparse sibling reunions she had with the others were too much to bear, because the family didn’t feel complete without the siblings they had lost.

“You know,” Five speaks up. He sucks in a sharp breath, as if the vulnerability is hurting him,  but he admits, “I would reread your chapter in Vanya’s book, to the point where I’d memorise the words. But I felt like it was all I had of you left. You and everyone else.”

A sad smile appears on y/n’s face. She doesn’t say anything, before remarking, “I adore Vanya, really. But I’ve never hated anything more than I’ve hated the book.” 

Five blinks in surprise at y/n’s statement, before he lets out a low chuckle. “Like I said, that book was all I had left of you guys. But honestly? I hated it, too.”

y/n laughs, snorting in a way that Five used to mock her for, but the bubbly sound of his sister’s laughter makes him feel nostalgic instead. She shakes her head, remarking, “I missed this.”

Five nods, a soft smile lighting up his face. A rarity, y/n knows, for him to genuinely smile without a hint of sarcasm or smugness. The seconds don’t feel wasted anymore, and Five replies, “I missed this, too.”

tag list: @egg2k16​ / @cnco-babes​ / @floup-doodles​ / @batfam16​ / @redbullchick​ / @fangirlsarah16​ / @ofthedewthesunlight​​

#five hargreeves x reader #reader x five hargreeves #reader x number five #number five x reader #tua #tua imagine #number five #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #tua one shot #number five one shot #imagine #imagines #reader insert #one shot #oneshot #not really a fan of this the more i read it the more i hate it

[angrylizardjacket]

heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} 1

1. when he was looking out for me (i would pretend he was my summer fling)

Summary: When you’re twelve and you have a crush on your babysitter, your parents think it’s puppy love, think it’s cute, and you’ll forget about it soon enough.

A/N: 2266 words. Female!Reader. okay so the sprained ankle in Space Jump is a direct reference to something that happened in my theater class, that being a dude snapped his fucking femur playing Fruit Salad. RIP adam’s femur for the following few months. he’s fine now, that was like 8 years ago. whatever. are all these theater games i mention real? i’ll never tell. here’s part 1. DISCLAIMER: NO CREEPY SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WOULDN’T DO THAT; THERE’S A LITTLE BIT OF PINING FROM Y/N BUT THAT’S IT. there’s a few assumptions made abt Y/N’s life; only child, parents (plural, idk how many, doesn’t matter), plays Crash Bandicoot and Mario Kart, takes theater classes outside of school.

the mutant brotherhood: @daisy-lu​ @hervoidparadise​ @nedmjpeter​ @ultrunning​ @d-r-e-a-m-catchme​ @clementimee​ @that-fandom-sucks-tho​ @cjand10​ @rest-is-detail​ @baileymae​ @rosesvioletshardy​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @hazelstyles94​ @bitchylittleredhead​ @bihemian-rhapsody​ @sweatyexpertgardenpanda​ @whereeverythingisbetter​ @dedxbed​ @xxencagedxx​ @glittrixvibe​ @a-girl-with-stress​ @sunflower-ben​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @mrsmazzello​ @cubedtriangle​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @misscharlottelee @nevilles-insinuations @jovialcreatorkidtoad @brianmaysclog @sambuckywarrior @hey-yo-bedussey @bubblyanis @lifesciencesbois @elektraofcrete @diosanaz @bbdoyouloveme @kirstansworld @okilover02 @cardboardbenmazzello @dreashappyworld @juliarose21 @simonedk @greycuby @emmasunshiine @dinotje @qtrogerina @spiketacus @nympha-door-a @local-troubled-writer @emphatic-af @wh0a-thisisheavy @lustgardn @banginashton 

--

When you’re twelve, and almost at the end of your first year of high school, you get into a fight with your parents as to whether or not you still need a babysitter. Much to your chagrin, however, they don’t see twelve as ‘practically sixteen, which is practically an adult’ and you sulk for the full three days leading up to the night they were going out. The night of, you’re fully intending on staying in your room, until there’s a knock at the door, and you hear a voice that is absolutely not your usual babysitter.

“Be good,” your parents call to you as they’re leaving, having noticed where you’d cracked the door to your room to see who it was. You make a face at them, but you’re surprised to see a kid from Sixth Form on crutches, who is absolutely not Madeline, standing in the hallway awkwardly. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around school, maybe he’s on the soccer team? You’re not sure. 

“You’re not Maddy,” you tell him, opening the door a little wider, and he seems surprised for a moment to see you there. A kind, awkward smile appears on his face as he regards you with gentle amusement.

“Well spotted, I’m Ben, Maddy’s got the flu,” he explained easily, and offered his hand, “you’re Y/N, right?” And he’s trying so hard, but you’re still kind of mad at your parents for insisting on a babysitter in the first place.

“Who else would I be?” You asked flatly, which surprised a laugh from Ben, but you shook his hand anyways; you had to give him props for trying, “why are you using crutches?” You asked outright, since you’re pretty sure he wasn’t using crutches last time you saw him at school. You turned, heading for the living room, deciding to at least give him a chance.

“Sprained my ankle in class the other week,” he explained, hobbling along behind you.

“Sport or just P.E?” You asked, throwing yourself onto the sofa and picking up the TV remote. Ben was quiet for a long moment, and when you look at where he’s sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa, he’s making a face like he doesn’t quite want to admit the truth.

“Theater sports,” he explained, which piqued your interest, which, of course, you try not to let show on your face, because if your babysitter knows you already think he’s cool, you might die of embarrassment. But also, you suddenly feel incredibly validated for taking those theater classes every Thursday afternoon.

“They’re -” he tries to explain, but you give another eye roll.

“I know what theater sports are,” you tell him, and his smile turns amused. 

“You do?” He asks, and you think he might be a little bit impressed, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, either way, you nod firmly, “well I was in the middle of Space Jump - you know Space Jump, right? Where you start an activity and then someone else calls ‘Space Jump’ and you have to freeze and they have to make a new scene from your freeze, and then someone else comes in -” he explained, mostly to save you the embarrassment of admitting you didn’t know the game, “well I was up on one leg on a chair, climbing the rigging of a ship, you know how pirates do, and I froze, and -” he gestured how he’d fallen off the chair, with accompanying sound effects.

“Couldn’t you have just put your other foot down and balanced yourself?” You offered, and he shook his head, expression adamant.

“It’s all about the commitment to the bit; I was trying to entertain them, and the best way I can do that is to put myself out there one-hundred percent,” he told you sincerely, “you’ve always gotta follow through.”

“You sprained your ankle,” you pointed out, “isn’t that dangerous advice?” He deflates a little, looking down at his leg.

“Follow through but use your common sense, you’ve got common sense, don’t you?” He asked, giving a wry smile, two which you nodded diligently, “don’t get yourself hurt, then,” he suggests, before changing the subject quickly, “you hungry yet? Your parents said we could order pizza.” You’re easily excited by the thought of pizza, a rare treat your parents allowed you whenever you were babysat. 

It’s a pretty uneventful night, all things considered, you order pizza, and he lets you win at Crash Team Racing, and you’re falling asleep to a comedy movie until Ben gently suggests that you go to bed. You’re too tired to argue and try and weasel your way into staying up later, so you yawn loudly and wish him a good night before shuffling off to bed. The house is quiet, apart from where he’s watching a Top Gear rerun and waiting for your parents to get home.

You don’t think about it much beyond telling your parents ‘yeah, he’s pretty cool’ when they ask. You don’t think about him much beyond that, at least not for almost a full week, until you’re sitting in your geography class just before lunch, having managed to snag a seat by the window looking out onto the back field, and there’s a PE class doing laps on the field. All are running, except the teacher, and a boy with blonde hair, standing with all his weight on one foot, and a pair of crutches tossed to the side, looking like he’s arguing the teacher.

“I heard when you’re in sixth form you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen,” you hear your friend, Merissa, next to you muse, and when you turn, she’s followed your gaze outside to the field. After a moment, you turn again, and watch the blonde attempt to put weight on his obviously injured foot; it looks like he regrets it, and he sits on the grass, sulking. 

“That’s probably Ben,” Merissa tells you matter-of-factly, “he’s on the football team with my brother.” And something about the kind of unwarranted pride in her voice at being in the know makes your face scrunch up. Part of you wants to tell her that you know who Ben is, obviously, but another part of you doesn’t want to admit to still needing a babysitter; it feels childish. So you keep your mouth shut and turn to back to the board.

And the following week, in your weekly theater class, you’re about to take your turn at Bus Stop, wherein your goal is to make the other person on the ‘bus stop’ as uncomfortable as possible until they finally leave, which is when you’ll assume the roll of the innocent bystander, and someone else from the class will come up and try and make you uncomfortable. It’s a lesson on improvisation disguised as a game. 

The voice you’ve been practicing slightly pinches your vocal cords, and you’ve barely got a moment to assume a matching physicality, and you worry for a second that it’s not funny, that you’ll just look like an idiot -

Put yourself out there one hundred percent.

You steel yourself, making strange shapes with your hands as you twist yourself into as much of a creature as possible, within reason, using the strange voice you’d concocted, feeling a thrill as your entrance gets the biggest laugh of the class. Oh.

A few months later, in the Summer after your first year of high school, you’re finally thirteen, and are allowed to have the house to yourself for the day, but if you’re parents are anticipating staying out later than midnight, you need -

“Please,” you begged, “just don’t say babysitter, I’m not a baby.”

“Fine,” they acquiesce, “you need supervision, just if we’re out very late.” 

Despite your indignation at the situation, Maddy’s got a cello concert, and you’re hoping that that means -

Ben greets you like a friend, wearing a denim jacket with no crutches, and he might be the coolest person you know.

“You still on Crash Team Racing?” He asks with raised eyebrows as he heads into the living room, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s so old school,” you scoff, and he raises his hands in surrender, trying not to look as amused as he feels, watching as you pull out two Wii remotes, “Mario Kart’s much better.” And you hand him one. 

He’s not above letting you win, but it turns out, he doesn’t have to; you’re scarily good at the game, which you credit to playing pretty much nothing else for a solid month, and by the time the pizza arrives, the win ratio is about fifty-fifty, and you’ve bonded considerably over your mutual and unreasonable hatred for Waluigi, the only NPC who seems to consistently beat you both.

“Do you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen?” You asked, holding your pizza in one hand and letting it cool for a moment.

“Huh?” Ben’s burnt the roof of his mouth, and is reaching for his drink when you ask, “whaddya mean?”

“My friend Merissa says Sixth Form gets to push in the front of the line.” 

“I don’t think we’re technically allowed to,” he says after a moment of consideration, and you hear his nonverbal ‘but we still do’ anyways, “it’s not a rule rule, you know?”

“Are the A-levels hard?”

“Haven’t done ‘em yet,” he answers honestly, burping quietly after taking a drink, and you hum, and take a bite of pizza.

“I’m already scared of my GCSEs,” you admit after a moment of chewing, and Ben laughs gently.

“You’ve got nothing to be afraid of,” and he sounds like he means it, so you can’t help but believe it, soothed a little in your premature worrying. To be fair, Ben could say anything about school or life and you’d probably believe it; he was cool and older than you, but he treated you like a friend. 

You mention in passing that you’d gotten the lead for your class’s skit in the end of year showcase your theater company puts on, and mentions that it’s because you’d been committing to the bit in class, and the pride in his voice when he congratulates you is something you end up thinking about for days.

He ends up babysitting you twice more that Summer, not that you were complaining. It meant you got pizza, and to hang out with the coolest person you knew, a fact which you reiterated to your parents, much to their fond amusement, though you made them swear to never tell Ben that. He brought over Super Smash Bros and you guys would play for hours.

The only problem was that Ben was never allowed to know about the crush you had on him, because everyone in the world knew it was weird to have a crush on your babysitter, and you’re pretty sure he has a girlfriend and -

Doesn’t matter. You’re just started to discover the delightful world of crushes and relationships, and Merissa has a boyfriend on Tumblr, and you know that when you get back to school you can have a normal crush on a normal boy in your year, even if all the boys in your year look like thumbs. And Ben...

Is your babysitter. And a decent guy. And your friend, sort of. So you just hope he hasn’t noticed.

After Summer, he’s studying his A-levels, and Maddy’s got a day job so she can babysit at nights again, and it feels like everything’s gone back to normal, like you can breathe again. 

You’ve never really seen him at school; you don’t tend to hang around the back fields, but a few weeks into the first term, you’re having lunch with Merissa and Charlie, one of your other friends, in the library, when you spot him laden down with textbooks, making his way to one of the study rooms at the back. You’re not sure if he’ll even acknowledge you, even though your table is directly along the best route to the back rooms, so you just give him and smile and a nod in greeting.

“Hey, Y/N,” he grins quickly, doesn’t stop, but nods in return, and your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. Charlie sinks her nails into your arm the moment he’s gone into the study room, and Merissa quietly screeches your name.

“Chill out,” you’re trying to keep a low profile, but both other thirteen year old girls are demanding to know what just happened, “we’re friends.” You say with a shrug that’s far too casual.

“Friends?!” Merissa demands, and you can feel yourself growing more flustered.

“We hung out a few times during summer,” you open your notebook in front of you, trying to distract yourself.

“You hung out with Ben? Y/N he’s a football guy, he’s so old, he’s like eighteen!”

“We’re friends,” you insist, “don’t be, like, creepy about it,” you snorted, and Charlie let out a pterodactyl-like noise. They drop it at your insistence, and you’re just glad they don’t ask you to elaborate. 

You don’t see Ben much after that anymore, he’s too busy with his A-levels to babysit, and when you’re fourteen, your parents agree that you don’t need a babysitter anymore. You’re more than happy to let your Summer crush fall to the wayside, and let your memories of Ben, like all good Summer memories, fade into blurry obscurity. 

You wouldn’t need to worry about seeing him again anyways, right?

Oh how wrong you were.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #borhap #queen #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #bohemian rhapsody cast #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

[bluesprng]

— i love you ♦ atz

writer: honie. plot: the first ‘i love you’. a/n: some are short, some are not. it isn’t beta read and i’ll deal with the mistakes come morning - i’m really hoping there aren’t that many. it’s kinda shitty but i did my hand at being soft during this time of crisis. fun fact; jongho’s is the longest and my main biases is the shortest; idk what happened. p.s; feedback is always nice.

« 𝑘ℎ𝑗 »

‘I like it when you sing to me.’

Looking up at you from where his head rested on your thigh, Hongjoong let a sleepy smile grace his features. What he wasn’t about to say was how much he liked the attention; how much he liked when you treated him like he was the only other person in the world. He wasn’t one to admit he liked being doted on and you knew that, knew he didn’t like being the center of attention most days.

However, it wasn’t hard to learn how he felt about these times. Your little evening sessions had become normal because the male didn’t know what it meant to relax. Hongjoong was a workaholic, something you admired dearly but also worried about - along with most others. It happened one evening when Seonghwa had dragged him to your apartment and basically forced the younger into taking a break; he was stressed and being stubborn. You’d never truly thought it was so bad until it came down to the oldest and yourself taking turns in making sure he actually returned on some nights.

As he laid there, peering up and admiring you, the male found himself letting out a content sigh. He often found himself admiring your beauty, your patience, your tolerance, and everything else; the amount of times he’d listed the things he loved about you to himself became countless.

‘I love you,’ he let slip for the first time, without even fully meaning to let it sound out loud.

Without missing a beat you continued to smooth his hair over your thigh and smiled, cooing out a soft ‘I love you, too.’

« 𝑝𝑠ℎ » 

Sitting in his usual spot on your bed, Seonghwa entertained himself with the dim screen of his phone, not wanting to fall asleep before spending at least a few minutes with you. He found himself thinking about the last time you’d really spent together and a frown formed over his lips.

He was lost in his own world when you finally emerged from the bathroom, towel drying your hair while humming some song you didn’t know the name of. ‘You look lost,’ you stated, dropping the towel in the hamper and moving to join the raven on the bed. He simply shook his head.

‘We don’t spend much time together,’ he mumbled, setting his phone aside, ‘but you never really seem to mind..’ he trailed off and part of him, the insecure part, felt like maybe you weren’t as into him as he’d wondered.

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help but chuckle faintly. ‘You say that like I wasn’t aware of your career when we got together,’ you mused, leaning to drop your chin on his shoulder, peering at him with a smile, ‘I just don’t want you to feel smothered or like I can’t take it. You still have your own life, Hwa..’

The raven tilted his head to look at you closely, noses almost touching as he let your words echo in his mind for a moment. ‘I love you,’ he confessed confidently, eyes flickering with nothing but sincerity.

You leaned to press a barely there peck to his lips. ‘I love you, too.’

« 𝑗𝑦ℎ » 

Sitting in bed and staring at the book in your hand, you hadn’t really comprehended anything you were trying to read and it was becoming frustrating. You’d been attempting to study for two hours and it felt like absolutely nothing was absorbing.

Like a blessing, something caught the corner of your eye and you found a small puppy bounding into your room. Obviously the sudden appearance confused you beyond belief seeing as you didn’t own any pets and neither did you boyfriend. You slid off the bed curiously and crouched down, watching as the canine automatically ran into your arms; it was only then that you noticed a little paper hanging from a thin collar.

‘Hey there, Buddy,’ you cooed over him as you lightly pulled the paper free to unroll it, raising a brow at the written words; ‘I love you.’

Looking up from your spot, you found a brightly smiling Yunho leaning against the door frame. ‘Did.. did you just say you love me for the first time.. through a dog?’ you questioned, clearly amused as he shrugged and joined you on the floor.

‘Are you complaining? Because, I’ll gladly retract my little note and take him home-’ he replied, clearly teasing while picking up the puppy. With a sound of protest, you climbed up on his lap and tucked said puppy into your own. Stretching and wiggling, you managed to grab the pen previously used for half-assed notes to scribble on the other side of the paper;

‘I love you, too!’

« 𝑘𝑦𝑠 » 

‘You’re cheating!’ Your voice rang through the dorm as you attempted to push Wooyoung over, noticing his little antics while playing video games. The latter let out a loud laugh and stretched his controller out of reach, determined not to be bothered by you.

Yeosang watched in amusement from his spot behind you both on the couch, nursing a mug in his lap and feeling rather light. He didn’t much feel like joining in on the childish antics but had no problem watching; it always made him smile to see the two of you getting along.

When the game ended and Wooyoung had won, you looked towards the younger with your lips pursed and eyes narrowed; ‘You cheater!’ The male just suck his tongue out.

‘You’re just a sore loser,’ he sang childishly, scrambling up to his feet to disappear into the kitchen with the comment on getting water before you could have a rematch. You, pouting and wiggling the too long sleeves of Yeosang’s borrowed hoodie, you looked towards your boyfriend.

‘He totally cheated, why do any of you play games with him?’ You nearly whined the words and crawled to drop your chin on the blonde’s knee, looking up at him. ‘Have none of you called him out on this? This isn’t faaaaaiiiiirrrrr...’

Yeosang just cooed and reached to push your hair back. ‘You’re both children, you know that, right?’ You couldn’t deny his statement and just shrugged.

You reached up to take his hand from your hair, playing with his fingers as a smile formed on your features. ‘I’m a child but you still like me.. so.. what’s the problem?’ your smile turned into a toothy grin, eyes shining up to him. The blonde rolled his eyes as you spoke, lifting your now joined hands to kiss the back of your own.

‘That’s where you’re incorrect,’ he muttered, ‘I love you.’

« 𝑐𝑠 » 

 ‘It’s not that big of a deal!’

Stopping mid-step to turn towards the male, eyes a bit wide. ‘It’s.. It’s not a big deal..? Are you fucking kidding me, San?’ you bit back, an almost bitter laugh spilling from your lips, ‘It’s not that big of a deal that you were two hours late for our date because you were with Wooyoung?’

The raven groaned and pushed a hand through his hair, not even sure of how to defend himself at this point, just knew he didn’t like fighting with you. ‘I lost track of time.. it’s not like I purposely just ditched you to hang out with him. Why would I do that to you?’ he ended with a frown, wondering if you really thought he was bad enough to do just that.

You paused and visibly seemed to actually debate the words. ‘I don’t know.. it’s not the first time and, and I don’t know sometimes.’ The words hurt to say, hurt even more to hear and it left San to realize just how neglectful he’d been- even if by mistake. As you turned to continue walking away and what he felt like was you walking completely out of his life, he quickened his pace to grab you carefully.

‘I’m sorry- I’m so, so sorry,’ he began, panic evident on his features, ‘I love you and I never meant for you to feel this way.. I would never hurt you on purpose. I promise I’ll pay more attention, I’ll make even more time to be with you, just please.. please don’t go.’

Staring at him as he spoke, you zoned in on one part of his words and found yourself mumbling; ‘Did you just say you love me..?’

« 𝑠𝑚𝑔 » 

When you agreed to let your sick boyfriend stay at your apartment, you didn’t realize just what all that entailed. You weren’t aware of just how whiny the red head you could be but learned quickly; the previous warnings and ‘thank you’s from his members were understood once a few days had past.

Of course, you all adored him and none of the words or thoughts came with malicious intent, you honestly found it a little adorable how he became so childlike when feeling down. You made sure he was well taken care of - tucked away to rest, fed, and hydrated while taking the needed medicines.

You also made sure to be with him whatever chance you got as it seemed to make him most comfortable when he wasn’t alone; he rested better with you in the room. You learned that when you sat on the floor in front of the bed to read that he fell asleep quicker when you held his hand and slept with a smile if you’d kiss him on the forehead. His behavior was endearing.

As you sat on the edge of the bed making sure he took his medicine, you found him staring up at you with an awfully pouty expression that piqued your curiosity. ‘What’s wrong, love?’

He shook his head and shrugged a little, fidgeting a bit until scraping together the words he was looking for. ‘I’m sorry for being so much trouble,’ was the comment he made, causing you to blink a few times.

‘You aren’t any trouble.. why would you be? Everyone gets sick,’ you answered, pushing his red locks back, ‘besides.. what kind of person would I be to not look after my princess of a boyfriend, huh?’

He seemed to perk up a little at the nickname and shot you a small, weak smile. ‘I love you,’ he said, confidence oozing from him at the sudden confession that made you chuckle.

Dropping a few light kisses around his face, you returned the sentiment with just as much confidence; ‘I love you, too. Now, get some rest, okay?’

« 𝑗𝑤𝑦 » 

Something about listening to Wooyoung rant on made you smile and held your attention, despite having no idea what he was even talking about. He’d found himself enamored with a show on netflix while you’d been busy studying and it was quite adorable how quickly he got attached; you still didn’t have a single clue about the details he was seemingly upset about.

Despite that little fact, you heard every word as he roamed your kitchen preparing for a promised dinner. You caught every change in his tone, the way he spoke of characters he liked and ones he wasn’t fond of, the way he pointed out plot holes and episode endings that were ‘really annoying and seemed like they were written by someone who’d never even used words before!’ - you just smiled and listened.

Wooyoung was cute when he got into something and while he simmered down for a moment to pay attention to the food, you found yourself thinking of every little moment you’d had, every date and disaster, every argument and makeup; the thoughts made you freeze up a little in realization.

You hadn’t really noticed he began talking again and found he’d moved to the island, standing across from you while chopping something up. ‘I love you!’ you blurted out, staring at him with big eyes and praying it didn’t scare the shit out of him.

His expression shifted into one of a deer trapped in headlights for a handful of seconds, seconds that did nothing for your anxiety and right before you were about to speak, he cut you off. ‘I love you, too,’ he beamed, a bright smile on his lips.

« 𝑐����ℎ » 

You often let slip small complaints about your days and how work treated you, nothing over dramatic or annoying - just little things that expressed your annoyances. Be it a co-worker not taking something seriously or a client that didn’t seem to get something - you had normal complaints. Well, normally. Today was a day that couldn’t be covered by ‘small’ or ‘little’ complaints as you stomped towards the dorm with teary eyes, drenched from head to toe.

You’d been yelled at by a customer, screamed at by your boss and pushed to the limits of a mental breakdown by your ridiculous co-workers until you broke and informed the /entire/ shop that you were quitting. Of course, as soon as you stepped outside the sky fell and you were left to sob as raindrops soaked into your very core.

Slipping into the building and dragging your sad self to the all too familiar dorm your boyfriend and his members resided in, you were let in by a recently woken Mingi who didn’t take lightly to your appearance. He didn’t announce your arrival but disappeared to collect a towel as you managed to leave your shoes outside before padding into the kitchen; you were simply following voices in hopes of spotting Jongho or at least Seonghwa, who would listen ( then scold you were the wet trail you’d left behind. ).

‘You don’t understand,’ it was your boyfriend’s voice and you stopped in your tracks, wondering if your timing was bad. Despite your horrendous day, you knew his days were normally stressful and didn’t want to add to it. ‘I don’t like Y/n- it’s not like that anymore..’

Your heart sank as you heard the words, feeling your eyes well up with more tears and you couldn’t possibly think of anything that would make your day worse. Shifting your weight and stepping into the kitchen behind the youngest, you were about to speak when he finished his previous statement. ‘I stopped liking them a while ago and I don’t know how to say it but I’m pretty sure I’m in love at this point.’

You watched as Seonghwa had shifted his gaze to you though made no attempt to alert the youngest to your presence as he spoke, hoping the situation would work out on it’s own. The tears in your eyes were no longer from heartbreak and you found that maybe the day wasn’t so bad. ‘I- I think I’m in love with you, too,’ you mumbled out, voice cracking and feeling rather soft.

Jongho had spun around fast enough to give the whole room whiplash, eyes wide at not only your words but your sopping frame. ‘You are?’ And as you nodded, happy with the sudden confessions, you couldn’t help but wonder where the hell Mingi had gone to get you that towel.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong imgines #seonghwa imagines #yunho imagines #yeosang imagines #san imagines #mingi imagines #wooyoung imagines #jongho imagines #this is garbage #and a bit shitty #but it's something #goodnight #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions

[desiree-harding-fic]

oh shit that really sucks :( My city has the highest recorded number corona patients of the entire country, but besides the "if you feel even slightly sick, stay home" no college things are being cancelled yet. As for rejeancy AU prompts... Can we have some Lup n Kravitz meeting for the first time? or taakitz + Lup hanging out? (idk if you've done those I mightve missed some)

Thank you for the kind words, dear. And ooooo I haven’t thought about writing a scene where Lup and Krav meet, that sounds like fun.

^^^ ok that was Desiree of two weeks ago, this Desiree is back with 2000 words that barely fit the prompt but u know what what else is new enjoy!!!

*~*~*~*~*

She caught sight of the house for the first time as the carriage crested a hill. Massive, done in pale stone and nestled in the crook of the valley below her like something out of a painting, down to the large stream she could see bisecting the property, to the sheep that grazed on the hills father out from the house. A rolling green park, and through the land, in a winding line, the road dipped behind copses of trees and reemerged, until she could see it running all the way up into a wide, well-kept drive before the front door. 

All this she saw in a second, before the road turned, and the view was obscured.

She did not look again. Something about the scene and all the promises it implied, her connection to it, however tangential, made something heavy settle in the bottom of her stomach.

And yet, her thoughts turned to Taako. As shocking as the news of his marriage had been, as skeptical as Lup was about the true nature of it, she could not help but long to see her brother again. Three months was too long. They had thought the holiday would do her good, but in truth the time she had spent at the Burnsides’ house had only brought her ill news from seemingly every front. She needed her brother.

If nothing else, she thought, it would be good to see him again. If he was not changed by marriage as she feared.

The carriage rumbled along the road, until she could feel it slowing, until she could feel the shape of an incline. She suddenly felt something like a great illness wash over her, a settling dread, and an exhaustion so acute and complete she almost wished not to be made to move at all. She leaned her head back against the wall of the carriage, and closed her eyes, and wished, suddenly, to be gone from this place, even to be locked up in her dingy room in Tostaada’s home, if only for the fact that it would be familiar. If only because it meant that so much had not changed, that Lup had a handle on the world, a foothold in it, and that her life was not being thrown into disarray in new ways each moment.

The carriage came to a stop. Her eyes snapped open. The walls of the carriage mocked her.

There were steps approaching. Lup breathed deeply, swallowed the lump in her throat. The handle of the door was jostled, and then it was open.

She did not recognize the man who helped her out, for the moment she cast her eyes upon the gravel drive before the house she saw him.

Taako.

Hurrying from the entrance to the courtyard of that fine house toward her carriage, a grin splitting his face as he looked on her, and Lup couldn’t contain herself as her feet touched the ground, and gathering her shawl around her she ran to her brother, threw her arms around his neck, and embraced him.

He was just the same, the smell of him and the shape of his arms around her and his head at her shoulder as it always had been, and Lup took a shaky breath and held him tight and god, how she had missed him. She must’ve looked a sight, exhausted from travel, unladylike and childish in her greeting, but she could not bring herself to care. She missed her brother too much to care.

“Lulu,” he said softly, in way of greeting, and like magic, nothing seemed as terrible as it had a moment ago. Taako was with her. What could she not weather with Taako beside her?

“I missed you,” she said, muffled in his shoulder. Taako chuckled.

“Missed you too, Lu,” he said, and then, all too soon, he pulled out of the hug, stepping back, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong.

And then he turned.

And for the first time since she arrived, Lup noticed the other man.

“Lup,” Taako said, “I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Kravitz. Kravitz, my sister.”

“Miss Lup,” Kravitz said, bowing low to Lup’s curtsy. Lower, she thought briefly, than her station deserved, comparatively. “Welcome to Astral. And please allow me to express what an honor and a pleasure it is to finally make your acquaintance. Since Taako first spoke of you I have been eagerly awaiting our introduction.”

He was handsome, Lup had to own. But the more she looked at him, the more she was convinced his features were rather too fine for her taste. They seemed to have been sculpted of marble, or invented at the end of a painter’s brush. Indeed, she studied the pleasant expression painting his face and thought it looked rather like the marbles she’d seen in the fine halls of the wealthy; each minute shift seemed choreographed to show itself to the highest level of beauty, and as such, Lup could find no earnestness in him.

But Taako was positively beaming beside him, and Lup had agreed to live in the man’s home. So she turned her face to a pleasant smile as best she could.

“Thank you for your kindness,” she said, a vague comment simply for the fact that it felt right to thank him, though Lup could not imagine what for. “I too have been awaiting our introduction since I received Taako’s letter.”

He could sense her hesitance, Lup was certain, but if he did, he played it off with much cordiality.

“You must be tired, after such a long journey,” he said, “come, let us retire into the house. I will have some of my men see to your things, and call up some tea from the kitchen.”

She was tired. Long days in the carriage always tired her. They had traveled more strenuously than they could have, but by the time Lup left home, she had been desperate to see Taako.

He walked beside Kravitz, and Lup trailed behind them, just slightly, as they entered. 

Each chamber they passed through, corridor and sitting room, seemed finer than the last. She could hear Taako and Kravitz prattling on about this and that but could not bring herself to listen, so amazed was she by the sheer wealth implied by each space. At moments, she seemed to forget she was not touring the house of a rich and distant lord, like so many other families on summer holidays through the country, and would not be asked to tip the housekeeper upon her departure.

Finally, they came to a halt in a sitting room at the back of the house, overlooking the gardens and grounds beyond. The view was expansive out of the tall windows, and Lup ran her hands along the low sills as she gazed out. Flowers of every shade and kind, and trimmed hedges, and fountains, and beyond that, just as she had seen on the drive in, rolling fields, the most attractive countryside one could wish to see during an afternoon tea. There was almost a possessiveness to it, she thought, and the thought soured her tongue. She suddenly felt terribly out of place in her shabby travelling clothes, her day dress she had had since she was fifteen that was now faded from its original color, her plain shawl draped at her elbows.

She turned away from the window, looking back into the room, and Taako was seated on one of the sofas surrounding a low tea table, watching her, a discerning expression on his face.

For the first time she took in his clothes. The white of his collar was brighter than ever before, clean and pressed. The fabrics were of a finer weave, there was more color in them, more detail. And the fit… they were not handed down and taken in. These clothes were made for him, and she saw him holding himself differently in them.

He did not shrink away from the expansive space, the mirrors on the walls and the polished stone floors and frescos on the ceiling. Rather, he seemed to walk in a way that filled it, and it occurred to her then, as she took in the sitting room there, the vases on pedestals along the tapestried walls, the satiny sofas and marble tables between them, that as out of place as she must look, a shivering country mouse wrapped in her worn shawl, that Taako did not. That Taako was master of this house that seemed halfway to a palace, and that he believed it.

Somewhere, while Lup had been away, Taako had ascended, seamlessly, and Lup was suddenly terrified she would never be able to join him.’

“Come sit,” he said, his contemplative eyes still fixed on her.

“Where is Kravitz,” she asked.

“He left to see to a few details of settling you in,” Taako said. “You disappeared for a while.”

Lup laughed humorlessly.

“I’m sorry.”

Taako’s expression shifted, minutely, into a frown.

“Come here, Lulu.”

It was still her brother’s voice, and Lup, in all her life, could never deny him.

She sat beside him on the sofa. Tea had come from somewhere and Taako made himself busy fixing her a cup. There was platter too, of biscuits. Fresh fruit. A truly exorbitant number of cakes and tea sandwiches for three (now two) people.

“Who’s going to eat them?” Lup asked. Taako blinked in confusion for a moment before the understanding downed in his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, and then shrugged. “Servants, probably, to be honest. I’ve tried requesting fewer, but they don’t seem to have taken to heart yet that we don’t need several dozen sandwiches for one afternoon tea. You should try them, though, they’re… quite good.” He handed her the tea. She took a sip.

“You don’t like him,” Taako said, and Lup froze. He did not have to say who he meant.

“Taako,” she started, and what could she say? “He seems… very nice.”

“A glowing report from you,” Taako said dryly, stirring his own cup. He did not meet her eyes.

“Taako,” but there was no more to say. She could not defend herself. In her heart, a thousand worries bubbled up. The marriage had come so quickly, and with no warning, and upon meeting Kravitz he did not strike her with any strong impression other than that… he was rich. And after their aunt died and left them with Tostaada, she and Taako had been in dire straights, to be sure, but she had not thought it was so dire that Taako would -

“It’s just -” she blurted, and then held her tongue. But Taako waited, turned his gaze to her, raised his eyebrows over the brim of his teacup as though to urge her on.

“Do you love him, Taako?” It burst from her, she being unable to hold the question that had plagued her for two months any longer. She wished to take his hand, but he was holding a teacup. Hers, reaching out for him, landed indistinctly on his knee.

Taako paused a long moment, not looking at her. He set his tea down on the table, the soft clink of porcelain on stone seeming to fill the entire room. She could see the muscles of his jaw working, clenching and unclenching the way they did when there was something he wanted to say but was not sure he could. And she knew, in that moment, that she had been right the whole time, that the threat of poverty had finally overtaken Taako’s heart, and he had been too afraid to continue on without it resolved. And resolved it was. But at what cost?

In that silence before Taako’s answer she imagined a thousand things. Imagined Taako’s cold, distant life with a man he could not love, and wondered, sickly, if all of the comfort, all of the brocades and fine china and tea sandwiches in the world would fill the ache in his heart of a life without love.

And then Taako took a deep breath that seemed to shatter the room.

And he looked at her, and his eyes were deeper than the ocean as viewed from Magnus’s door, and were so earnest she felt fixed in place by them. She could see tears welling in the corners. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw Taako cry.

“Lulu,” he said, and he grabbed her hand, squeezed it tight. He was smiling. “I think I do.”

#reJEANcy #taakitz #lup taaco #taako taaco #taz kravitz #asked and answered #regency au #heckthedamn #wow i took so long to answer this and it got so long and jfkldjkfla #oh well #i hope you like some lup introspection #bc i do #i SURE DO #also taakitz is very in love

[traitorousheroes]

in the hands of a Goddess

Notes: I originally wrote this little ficlet back in June of 2016. Obviously it’s been awhile since I even worked on it, but I figured I should post ficlets in order to get myself back in the writing habit. The basic gist is my personal headcanon that Syldor worked for the Raven Queen before Vax ever did (something to do with Vax’s Fate-Touched status). IDK, I know this probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea (because Syldor is a terrible father) but I like adding a little more nuance to characters if I can. Also, skamelar is an Old English word for parasite, if anyone gets confused. Enjoy!

At eighty-five years of age, he became Her steward.

This was not how his life was supposed to turn out. 

“Skamelar,” he hissed, ducking under the talons of the scowling vampire. The nails scraped against his blade, throwing a shower of sparks into his face. The flash of light made him blink, giving the second strike of the creature purchase against his shoulder. The vampire’s snarl turned gleeful as he brought the bloodied nails to his mouth. 

“Elf,” the vampire replied, sucking his finger clean. “So far from your home. What calls you to my domain?”

“One higher than you,” Syldor replied, holding his twin short swords at the ready. 

The creature tilted his head, examining him. Then, as if realizing a joke, he laughed. Syldor tightened his grip on his blades, before forcing himself to relax. The vampire tried to circle him, but it was easy enough to keep him in view.

“Another paladin, then?” the vampire asked. “Come to avenge your fallen brethren?”

The image of a woman, armored in black plate, came unbidden to Syldor’s mind. Her eyes, dark grey in life but clouded white in death, had stared unseeingly into the morning light. The people of the town, Wrettis, had been all too willing to point him in the direction that the travelling stranger had gone. He had barely passed within the treeline before finding her body, tossed aside like refuse for the forest to claim. 

“She was no kin to me,” said Syldor. 

That, in and of itself, was true enough. He was no paladin, no warrior bound to a sacred oath. Nor was he a cleric, the arcane magic that flowed from his fingers in direct contrast to what they would wield. Priest was not the correct term either, since he wielded a blade with far more lethality than temple service would ever require. The title bestowed on him, however, was one that he could not refuse.

“Then why stand by the body for five days?” the vampire asked, swinging a claw at his guard.

 Syldor blocked it with an ease that did nothing to betray his weariness. The vampire stepped back, the slightest hint of a limp on his right side. Considering that they had been trading blows with neither side earning a significant hit, the limp was from another wound. Perhaps a parting gift from the deceased paladin, or another older wound that had not healed well.

“My Lady commanded it,” he said. 

“Your Lady,” the creature mocked him. “You serve the same patron as her, then. The one she cried to as I drained the life from her body. She wouldn’t stop praying for her intercession. I suppose Her Raven Majesty didn’t care much for her, in the end.”

Syldor struck out at the insult to the dead woman. He scored a graze against the monster’s chest, a line of dark, almost black, crimson bubbling up from the leathers. The vampire snarled, his fangs catching the light of the waning moon. Rather than wait for him to attack again, Syldor rallied and struck. The edge of his blade sunk into the flesh of the creature’s neck, slicing harmlessly in a shallow gash across his throat.

“Even if you spoke truth, I would see you dead in justice for her,” he replied. “Do not mock the dead, skamelar, for their Queen sees you for what you are.”

“And what would that be?” the vampire asked. He reached for Syldor again, only to have his reaching claws batted away by the flat of the blades.

“One who steals life from those who hold it still. One who steals the lives of children in the night, leaving them cold and bloodless in their beds.”

The edges of the vampire’s lips curled up at the charges laid before it. “There are others who do worse than I, elf. Leave me at peace here and hunt them instead.”

Syldor shook his head slightly. The vampire sighed, although the feral gleam in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts on the matter. He dashed forward, grabbing Syldor’s right arm and trapping it between them. His foul breath made Syldor recoil just far enough to escape the fangs that struck for his throat. As he looked down on the miserable creature, Syldor flicked his left hand up, the blade finding purchase again in the vampire’s throat. 

This time there was no chance for him to escape. Reversing his grip, Syldor pushed the blade against the wound. Blackened blood streamed from the gash and splashed on both of them. His strength waning as the blood continued to pour, the vampire released his right arm. He scrabbled at the blade embedded in his throat, but it was a useless effort. Dropping the sword in his right hand, Syldor grabbed his left handed blade, and used the extra power to saw through the remains of the vampire���s neck.

The head dropped to the ground as the body collapsed. The eyes twitched as Syldor watched, before the expression fell slack and the creature truly died. The fact that the creature had not collapsed into a gaseous state in a bid to escape spoke to its youth. Syldor let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping forward as the exhaustion from the fight crept up his limbs. Reaching down, he grabbed the head by the hair, letting it swing in the air. It was more of an effort to get a hold on the leather-clad body, but soon enough he had a good grip on it. 

Dawn was cresting over the farmlands when he made his way back to Wrettis. Those who went to tend the fields fled back towards the town when they saw him. Syldor paid them no mind, dragging the corpse to the temple district of the town. A priestess, robed and veiled in black, met him at the entrance with a small bow. It was the warmest greeting he had gotten since entering the town five, now six, days before.

“I learned of your victory a few hours ago, Steward,” the woman said. 

“I have done as She asked,” Syldor replied as the priestess fell into step beside him. “As I always will.”

She nodded, and he had the faintest idea that she was smiling behind the veil.“Perhaps.”

The rest of their short walk was made in silence. The woman, as most of her fellow temple priests and priestesses, did not seem uncomfortable by the lack of conversation. The quiet was useful to him as well, letting him organize his thoughts and affairs.

Those of Syngorn would wonder at his sudden departure. It had taken less than two days to reach Wrettis from the elven city, but what he had found and the task that had passed to him had extended his leave beyond what was normal. They would question his absence, considering the others that had occurred since his eighty-fifth year. While not prone to gossip, some of the more fanciful of his people had concocted tales of a woman he held dear outside the walls of their city. Instead of denying their claims, Syldor let them talk, allowing their childish stories to cloud the true reason for his leavings.

“Your mind is troubled,” the priestess said as they mounted the steps to the small temple. The body, dragged as it had been across the fields and the city streets, was easy enough to pull into the doors of the temple.

“It is nothing to trouble yourself with, my lady.”

“I will always listen if you have need, Steward,” she said. 

Syldor stopped, watching the woman as she continued to walk forward. Her gait did not falter, but now that he was paying attention, he noticed that her footfalls made no sound against the stone. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as she came to a halt before the altar. She turned back towards him, her face hidden behind the veil. Taking a deep breath, Syldor forced himself forward. 

“He was a stablehand,” the not-priestess told him as he laid the body on the altar. “Thom was his name. He used to ride and break the horses for one of the stables in Wrettis, until one of them broke him. It shattered his leg like glass, and he lost his one true joy in life.”

Syldor looked at her from the corner of his eye. The not-priestess had her hand cupped against the vampire’s cheek, the gesture almost looking like pity that echoed in her voice. With a sigh, she dropped her hand and lifted her head to look at him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She chuckled, and again Syldor got the impression that she was smiling at him. “My Steward, do you not recognize me?”

“My Lady?” Syldor said. Again, the feeling that the woman behind the veil was smiling at him. 

“You have done well, my Steward,” the Raven Queen said. “And you have done more than I would have asked.”

“I fulfilled my duties.”

“Your duties did not include standing watch over the body of my warrior,” she said. “And yet you did anyway.”

“There was no one else,” he said. 

“And yet you could have pushed the duty onto one of the priests, but did not. Your compassion reveals itself in the strangest of ways.”

“It was my duty.”

“As you say,” the Raven Queen acquiesced. “Your duties have been fulfilled. You are free until I have need of you again.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Syldor said, bowing at the waist. 

By the time he glanced upwards, she was gone, leaving nothing but a single raven’s feather on the breast bone of the corpse. It was the work of a few minutes to light the pyre, and Syldor watched the creature’s corpse burn, even as his mind turned towards home.

#critical role #vox machina #syldor vessar #the raven queen #thwrites

[bakugold]

Study Date. Pt.1 (Izuku x Reader)

A scenario in which Midoriya is helpless over you. He is completely head over heels for you, and you know it- everyone knows it. Bakugo- being Bakugo gives Midoriya a tough time about it. As soon as you show the slightest affection towards Midoriya, it's game time for Bakugo. And it's not pretty.

(Ahhh okay im not sure if im liking the way this is turning out so far, and im contemplating on deleting! Idk heres a preview of it. P L E A S E let me know what you think, and if i should continue! I just dont know if i want to continue, but i will happily continue if i receive some feedback! im not trying to be needy! Ok ok im done but enjoy!)

Word count: 2,000+(ish)

PART 2 can be found on this link!

           (Y/N). Her voice was soft, calming. She was beautiful. She knew how to use her words, she was delicate- yet fierce and strong. Her strength was the most admired thing about her to anyone, really. She knew how to fight, and was always determined to win one. Her determination was another thing that was greatly admired about her to her peers. She was going to make an amazing hero. A legend. Everyone knew it..

 “Midoriya!” Ochako chimed, waving her hand in search of Izuku’s attention. The boy snapped his head up that was once dug deep into his journal. “Yes!” He exclaimed, slamming his journal shut, in which made a sharp slapping sound. “You were so into writing, i didn't think i was ever going to get your attention,” She smiled, in a chagrined manner. Izuku chuckled, in a forced-like response because he couldn't find any words to say, as his eyes awkwardly shifted to the other students across the room, surrounding (Y/N)’s desk, asking her questions.

   “Amazing! That really happened to you? How did you even make it out alive?” “You weren't scared?” “Ah- if that were me i would have ran away and gotten help!” Questions were being thrown to her like there was no tomorrow, but this was an often occurrence, especially after she finishes explaining yet another one of her adventurous stories. “You are quite brave, (Y/N).” Todoroki nodded to her, which made Izuku flinch in reaction. Ochako tilted her head questioningly, and turned around, only to see what Izuku winced at. She sighed once she connected the dots- (Y/N).

 “She's never going to notice you if you only stare at her from the distance!” She exclaimed, crossing her arms firmly. “W-what!” Izuku jumped at her statement, responding a little bit too loudly. The class drew silent, and peered their heads into Izuku’s direction, his cheeks grew into a reddish cherry shade, and he slowly sunk into his desk in embarrassment. Quickly after, everyone proceeded with whatever it was they were doing. Izuku chucked his head in Ochako’s direction, whispering sharply, “What did you mean by that!” he questioned, loud enough for only her to hear. She giggled, covering her mouth, “It's so obvious! Seriously!” she continued to giggle, in a friendly manner. “T-tell me!” Izuku whined, pleading her by shaking her hand. “(Y/N)! I mean (Y/N).” She whispered in his ear, covering her mouth with her hand to prevent anyone from reading her lips. “Eh? What about her!” He jumped, once again. Ochako cocked her brow, giving him a smug smile. “You're being w-weird. I don’t even know her that well.” He slouched, turning his head in your direction.

“I can help you talk her if you want!” She happily implied, leaning closer to the embarrassed, flustered boy. “You'll what?” He tilted his head, in confusion. Help him.. as in, talk to (Y/N)? There was no way he could agree to such a thing. If he wanted, he could easily muster up his own courage and talk to (Y/N) himself, but he knows that he would be a stuttering mess, and only leave himself in more embarrassment than he already is in. “I could..” Ochako furrowed her eyebrows, and tapped her chin lightly with her index finger, figuring out a way to help Izuku strike up a conversation with (Y/N).

“I could ‘accidently’ bump into her! Knocking out her notebooks out of her arms! And then you come in, and help her pick them up! And then you save the day and ask her how her day is going! Ask her if you want to go grab a bite with her..” She beamed, continuing explaining the possible series of events that could occur if only Izuku would agree to do so.

Izuku scratched the nape of his neck, “Ochak-” he started, only to be interrupted. “I got it!” Ochako pointed to him, “This weekend, i could invite (Y/N), you, and a few others to my house and have a ‘study date’, and you could get to know (Y/N) more!” She excitedly clapped her hands, feeling quite astonished and accomplished with herself for coming up with such a genius plan. “I-i’m not sure about this, Ochako-” He nervously waved his hand, attempting to shut down her idea, but was once again, interrupted, yet this time he was interrupted by a nosey Kirishima, “Study date?” He questioned, “Mind if I join? I've really got to get my ducks in a row before the final exams! This could really help me!” Kirishima pleaded, as Ochako rubbed her elbow, eventually giving into the redhead’s plee. “Yeah, sure..” She nodded, giving Kirishima a thumbs up.

“Hey, did someone say ‘Study date?’” Mina turned her attention from (Y/N) to Kirishima, as Kirishima nodded vigorously. “Gravity girl is having a study date at her place this weekend!” He announced. Izuku- once again sank into his desk. There’s no way i’m getting out of this one, he mentally  complained to himself. “Yes!” Ochako gleamed. “You're all welcomed, if you'd like! Aoyama, Momo, Mina, (Y/N),..” She listed, on and on. Izuku’s heart stopped at the mention of (Y/N). He was so.. average. And well.. she was beyond that. He didn't even want to talk to her because he didn't want to make a fool out of himself. What if he did talk to her? Would she think she's better than him and just ignore him? Does she already like someone else? What if she already has a cooler, older boyfriend that nobody knows about? What if she's not even a real person and she's just a robot who's secretly a villain and is eventually going to take over the city- “I'd love to go!” (Y/N)’s voice completely snapped Izuku out of his rambling thoughts, peering into her direction. “I could use the extra study. These exams aren't going to be easy.” She nodded firmly to Ochako, whose face was beaming with joy. “Y-yes! See you then!” Ochako waved, immediately facing Izuku after their encounter. “Now you have to come! She's definitely going to be there!” Ochako whispered to Izuku, who was completely at a loss for words. “Can we talk! Privately!” Izuku sharply questioned the overly excited girl.

The pair walked outside of the classroom, before Izuku could even speak, Ochako immediately began, “Don't worry about it, Midoriya! It's just a study date! You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with.” She patted his left shoulder. He sighed in relief. “I know you're trying to help me with (Y/N), but it's not that simple- And! I really appreciate your help! I do!” He exclaimed, as his face fell into a frown. “It's...impossible for her to be into someone like me, though.” He muttered, dipping his head in embarrassment. “You haven't given it a chance!” The girl stated. “You never know, (Y/N) could find you really cute!-” She explained a little too loudly.

From the corner of the hallway, Bakugo approached the pair, walking towards them only to enter his classroom.

“K-Kacchan!” Izuku nearly screamed, realizing the spikey-blonde headed boy may have heard everything he and Ochako were talking about.

“(Y/N), eh?” Bakugo lifted his chin, only to reveal a deathly grin. “Where did you even come from?!” Ochako questioned, clenching her fists. She was not about to put up with Bakugo and his child-like antics.

“I had to take a piss.” He replied bluntly, turning his head back to Izuku’s direction, who was trembling at this point. “And you're right, Deku. It is impossible for a girl like (Y/N) to ever be into someone like you.” Bakugo leaned into Izuku’s face, giving him a long, cold stare. “Just drop whatever fantasies you have about her. It's pathetic.” Bakugo turned his head to Ochako, tilting his head and began to chuckle. “And you're in on this? Helping this dumbass get with a girl who's clearly way out of his league!” He shook his head, slowly walking back into his classroom.

“You're wrong!” Izuku shouted, surprising himself. He was used to Kacchan’s hurtful words, his childish banter. But.. this was different. Kacchan was talking about a girl Izuku had strong feelings for. Even though Izuku would never admit it. Even though they’ve hardly spoken in the past. Izuku- being an extremely observant person, has gotten to know (Y/N) through her mannerisms, the way she acts around others, and with herself, by just observing her throughout the long hours of class.

Bakugo snapped his head in surprise, due to Midoriya’s unusual back talk.

The ash-blonde boy towered over Izuku, attempting to threaten Izuku with their height difference.

“G-get away from him!” Ochako yelled, in helpless attempt to break whatever conflict that was going on between the two.

“What was that? Huh, Deku?” Bakugo’s voice was the deepest it's ever been. Izuku stepped a few feet behind him, trying to give himself space.

Izuku stayed silent, just to avoid getting pushed or punched in the jaw from the boy hovering over him. He looked up at Kacchan with his chin dipped to his chest, Izuku opened his mouth to explain himself.

“That's what i thought.” Bakugo spat. He turned around and walked inside of the classroom, giving a ‘tsk’ sound, before he rolled his eyes and entered the room.

Ochako and Izuku fell silent. They didn't even know what to say to each other at that point. Bakugo simply left them at a loss for words due to his harsh words.

Izuku looked up at Ochako, who was already staring at Izuku, with a tense and concerned expression on her face.

“I-” Ochako begun, holding her hands together tightly behind her back.

“This is stupid. I knew this whole idea would be stupid.” Izuku stated, his heart sinking as he realised Ochako lightly winced at his words.

“No! N-Not you! I mean.. Bakugo. He.. sure knows how to tear my confidence.” Izuku tried to lighten the mood by chuckling at his last remark, which wasn't intended to be funny at all.

“We'll show him! Once you win (Y/N) over! He'll regret he ever said those mean words to you!” Ochako gripped Izuku’s shoulders, which took him by surprise. He only gave her a firm nod, not wanting to speak any further on the matter.

“We should go back in. Before Aizawa notices were gone..” Izuku stated, opening the door slowly for Ochako to enter before him. “Yeah.” The girl nodded, walking into the classroom.

The words that Bakugo spat at Izuku couldn't stop replaying through his head.

She would never be into someone like you.

Izuku was already aware of the fact it was impossible for him to win over you. This was old news to him. However, for Izuku to listen to someone verbally say it to his face like that broke him. His heart sank deeper and deeper for each time he replayed those words through his brain. He knew Ochako was just trying to be a good friend, and encourage him to speak to you, but he couldn't help to feel annoyed with the whole idea of even trying to talk to you. Bakugo was right. She would never be into someone like me. Why even attempt? It would be useless. But, because he knew deep down Ochako went through the trouble of inviting their classmates over to her home for a ‘study date’, Izuku felt obliged to at least attend that. After all, she did say he didn't have to do anything he was uncomfortable with, and after all, they are just studying. That was the only reason (Y/N) was going to Ochako’s house in the first place. Nothing more or nothing less. A study date.

#bnha imagines #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha hc #bnha scenarios #boku no hero academia #boku no hero season 2 #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #deku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader #izuku hc #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #study #izuku midoriya imagine #scenarios #imagine #drabble #bleh #ok im done

[leaveharmony]

** this got mad towards the end and it wasn't a targeted sort of mad at anyone in particular so much as a tired & probably-stemming-from-always-having-thing-I-enjoy-and-the-way-I-engage-with-it belittled sort of mad.  And as my father has always taught me, having or expressing emotions is shameful and wrong, so sorry.

Idk I think it's like....harder for me to cast judgement RE: ~cheating scandals~ or w/e because it goes back to it all being completely theoretical to me. No one's ever, face to face, at any time in any way expressed any kind of romantic interest in me whatsoever, I've never been in a relationship of any kind.  It hasn't come up, and that's fine.  Whether this is a case of you cannot miss what you've never had or whether I'm just like....a broken empty vessel for whom the yearning for human contact has gone beyond recall or desire, I dunno, and it doesn't concern me.  This isn't a pity me statement or an uwu secret crush notice me statement, I literally don't care at this point and tbh can't remember ever having done so.

Probably my oldest friend at this point, she....like as long as I've known her she's dated married men almost exclusively (and this started when we were both in highschool, when she was screwing around w/ her married english teacher - something I now understand was shocking predatory behaviour and probably statutory rape besides, but she does not acknowledge it as such so bring it up isn't my place).  She's been seeing the current one for at least three years now, I think, and he's married.  It's certainly an uncomfortable thing, and god knows I don't believe he could possibly think much of her or his wife if he's been doing this for so long and never once manned up and been honest or seriously considered ending his marriage.  But it's her life and we don't talk much anymore anyway, so I've never felt like it was my job or my place to be her therapist RE: holy shit what the fuck is wrong with you why do you do this to yourself and how could you do this to someone else?

Like full disclosure she started ‘seeing’ that english teacher when we were sort of puppy love internet-together (another long story but she wanted to or at least said she did and I sorta went along with it cos I didn't want to hurt her feelings...which of course, then it certainly seemed v. much like she didn't have many of, considering within a week she was having it off w/ someone else...again, this was a detached ‘Oh’ kind of moment, not really connected to any real hurt as she had instigated this and I hadn't really felt anything myself...it was upsetting in a sort of, ‘so this is what people do when they tell you they love you, that is disappointing but I guess life is not fiction’ kind of way but not in a ‘how could you, I love you’ kind of way.  As a first/only experience it could have gone better tbh, but it certainly gave me the right level of expectation afa being used & discarded when someone more convenient came along).

It's possible that most of the people I have ever known have just been fundamentally really bad at relationships and so I just sort of assume this is a normal thing; my father is an abusive shitbag and we're inescapably trapped with him, grandpa was a sort of...disinterested stick in the mud with a frightening temper for whom my grandmother gave up all her interests in sports and the outdoors because he did not share them.  Wabs never married, Tosh told me like she was expecting a pat on the back and a medal that she'd been faithful to her husband as he died of cancer 'even though she  ‘didn't have to be.’  And my instinctive reaction wasn't GOOD FOR YOU so much as it was “....what?!” but again...I didn't speak, because what the fuck do I know?  Maybe ppl run off and start seeing other ppl as soon as their partners get so much as a headcold all the time.

Ppl just sorta get abused and trampled and left and cheated on and discarded, or they do the same to others, and it just looks like a hell of a mess I'm well out of, tbh.  Which I guess is another reason...unless somebody's getting beat or otherwise abused, I feel like it's none of my business.  So honestly, “Tana slept around when he was single and one day some chick he canoodled with for like two months stabbed him for it” is filed under “Yeah that'll happen, thank god he didn't die” rather than “Hahahahaha karma amiright he totes deserved it, domestic abuse and attempted murder are hilarious when they’re directed at men who’re full of themselves!”

Nobody needs to tell me to have low fuckin' expectations for men, ok, I live under the boot of one of their idiot kings.  Tell me Tana fatshames his family for eating, tell me he gaslights them or acts like when they’re hurt or injured they’re making it up to personally inconvenience him, tell me they have to rigidly control their emotions around him to avoid setting off his violent temper, and ok.  Tell me he's a bigot, tell me he hits his family, tell me he hates women, tell me he's a rapist, ok.  But like...’he had a lot of sex and probably hurt people's feelings’ is not really high on my list of cardinal offenses b/c as far as I can tell, that's fucking everyone.  It isn't like he still does, it isn't like he's not tried to put it behind him and grow from it and be better.  It's practically his motto.   Why is ‘I acted in a shitty way but I'm trying to atone and I still look back and feel guilty about it’ only an admirable, affirming  thing to aspire to when it's a tumblr post & not when a guy is straight up saying it?  Which he has, on multiple occasions.  Can't change the past, can only try to learn from it.

At.  Least.  He.  Fucking.  Tries.

When has redneck george ever walked back his comments about gay ppl or his Islamophobia, when has Lesnar?  Beyond a token apology and chasing it w/ a dozen I'M NOT A RACIST THO interviews when has Hogan really acknowledged the depths of how he fucked up?  When did Warrior apologize for his vile bigotry, where's Elgin sincerely regretting being a fucking piece of shit dragging a rape victim's name through the mud?  Jericho's response to ‘hey maybe you shouldn't be advertising your cruise by saying there will be loads of bikini-clad women there available for you to ogle’ was essentially ‘are you triggered, bro, y so srys?’ and at no point did he objections seriously.  Orton never so much as thinks for two seconds before condemning BLM protesters or footballers who take the knee, AND he voted for Trump, but other than hollowly chanting that he's not a racist while blatantly doing things that are racist, silence.  Honma beat his girlfriend, Snuka murdered his partner, Austin smacked Debra around, Angle got stoned out of his mind and broke into his ex's apartment, X-Pac hit Chyna, exactly how often do they refer back to what happened, when did they apologize or express regret or even acknowledge any of it?  I mean I guess Benoit can't, what with the fucking suicide after he bashed in Nancy's skull and murdered his son.

Ppl have different things they can tolerate and forgive, is I guess my point, or at least one of them.  Which is fine!  I mean...I'd sure fucking side-eye anybody who writes any of the above a pass, but, I guess everybody's stories and reasons are different.

I like Tana.  I'm a fan of his.  Ok?  Like it probably sounds like I think he's a flawless angel crowned with light b/c compared to my fucking father, he IS.  It doesn't mean I'm being willfully blind to mistakes he's made or that I'm absolving him of every sin he's ever committed.  I think he's a good person and it's heartening and encouraging that he's in the world and if saying so without adding 18 asterisks about past behaviour and an disclaimer acknowledging all men as shit and all people as inherently flawed makes me a gullible childish ~fangirl~ than ok, I guess I am.  Everybody knows my tags for wrestling/wrestlers, which are there as much as a courtesy to anybody who needs to blacklist as they are a filing system for me (that’s why there’s a catch-all!  For ppl I haven’t thought up tags for yet or don’t intend to!), and tumblr savior is right there if me being silly about my favs in my own space bothers everybody so fucking much, god knows it wouldn't be the first time I set somebody cringing and they had to tune me out before they quietly dropped my ass like a particularly stupid puppy on a country road.  That I am a sloppy fawning emotional mess of untreated neurosis who hyperfixates on things & people who make me feel halfway hopeful for entire minutes at a time & gets stupidly overexcited about stuff isn't new information to me, so if you can't deal with that then... Well...sorry, honestly.  Like sincerely.  I know how I am and I try not to be but I can't help it sometimes when I like something.  Don't feel bad about leaving if you don't want to deal with it, cos I get it, honestly.  Have exactly zero (0) guilt feelings about it.  I’m a fundamentally repulsive creature, ppl have hard limits on how long they can put up with me, and so it has always been, and so it goes.

#Tanariffic #COMPUTER: ERASE THAT ENTIRE PERSONAL LOG