#it hurts and i will never ever get an apology or even recognition that it was bad from any person who fucked me over

[denwritesandcries]

Love, Hate and No Relationship – Hazel Callahan

Pairings: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan hates you and you have no idea why. Now, this wouldn't be such a problem, if it weren't for the fact that you're in love with her.

Word count: 5,4k.

Content: cursing, misunderstandings, mutual pining, idiots to lovers, a little blood (it's a fight club), pj actually being a good friend??, my really bad comedy, loser!hazel, I MEAN IT.

A/N: Hazel can't get social skills to save her life, she's such a loser. I love her.

English is not my first language.

Hazel Callahan hates you.

Alright, maybe hate was a too strong word, but she definitely disliked you. At least that's what you think, but what else could you conclude from someone who couldn't seem to exist in the same space as you without being completely uncomfortable and running away as soon as possible?

Now, being hated by someone you never really had any type of relationship with was bad enough, but being hated by someone you've had a crush on since you were fifteen was even worse.

You swear you didn't do anything wrong, but ever since you met, incidents seem to permeate your relationship with Hazel.

Like during your first day in the new school, where you ended up in the gym with a girl named Josie explaining the entire school hierarchy in your free period while a gym class was going on in the background. You focused on her voice and her speech about what to do to avoid athletes from harassing you in the hallways when you got suddenly interrupted by a ball hitting you directly in the head.

Turning back with a confused look and a hand in the back of your head, you found a girl with the most striking puppy dog eyes you had ever seen, with a completely shocked expression in all the glory of her gym shorts as some other students laughed off what had happened.

The hit didn't hurt much other than your ego, so what you did was laugh when all the pretty girl could do was profusely apologize, continuing to look extremely guilty even after you told her it was okay.

You and Josie decided to leave the gym after that and headed to your next classes, still talking about the event.

"That was Hazel." She said.

You didn't see her for the rest of the day, but her name got stuck in your head.

And then the next day the pretty girl was in the room when you had your first class with Mr.G. She looked completely mortified as you walked through the door, looking away at the table as soon as you noticed her.

Seeing the opportunity to get to know her better, you decided to sit next to her.

"Hey,” you said giving her a smile, “Is it okay if I sit here?”

Hazel turned her head to you, eyes wide and nervous, “Here?” she stutters and you notice her gulps as she nods, "Sure– I mean, if you want to."

You both sat in an awkward silence for a moment as you packed your things for class, until you spoke again and she let out a surprised squeak.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

After a moment of hesitation she mumbled without meeting your eyes: "I'm Hazel, but I think you already know that."

You let out a low laugh, “Yeah, I guess I definitely won’t forget you so soon.”

A look that you couldn't tell for sure if it was embarrassment or something else crossed her face and your conversation ended there, all your other attempts to talk to her that day ended with Hazel flinching and mumbling a short reply to you or looking to the other side when trying to get her attention, you won't admit that it disappointed you a little.

You thought that maybe she was still embarrassed by what happened in your first meeting and that this would pass with time, so you could only hope that you could at least become friends with her as the days went by.

It didn't pass. After that there were other little events, like every time you saw Hazel across the classroom and smiled at her in recognition, she would endup stumbling in the leg of your desk. You took it as Hazel being clumsy, but it happened every time and even though it was cute how alarmed she seemed after that, it started to annoy you on the third smudged task by the stumble making the pen slip out of your hand while writing. It started happening so much that you almost thought it was on purpose, so you just stopped greeting her when she arrived, hoping she would stop doing that, it worked – most of the time.

You'd see her in the hallways at school with Josie and PJ, but every time Josie came up to you – it was great to have a friend when you haven't find your own group to fit in yet – Hazel would turn around and practically run away as if she had seen a ghost.

There was a time when she couldn't get away and Josie invited you to have lunch with them, and in the moment the invitation left her mouth Hazel exclaimed a "NO!" screeching with a nervous gesture of her arms, PJ elbowed her while Hazel stuttered non-stop and Josie was quick to apologize for her, but you refused it anyway. Not even noticing the exclamation of "Dude! What the hell was that!?" and "That's not how you talk to your–" as you turned and disappeared from their sight.

Okay, now that really hurt. You chose to start spending your lunches outside, spending your time on other things until it was time to come back so that the situation wouldn't happen again.

Maybe she was too shy or just didn't want you in her friend group, but you weren't going to give up like that.

You would try to talk to her during class, making little comments and observations about what you were thinking at the time or what you were studying that you thought she might laugh or like, sometimes she'd respond, most of the time she seemed to make the most effort to seem smaller in her seat, despite being so restless.

Hazel couldn't help herself sometimes, letting out a loud clumsy laugh that ended up annoying your teacher and leaving you soft and warm inside, so you considered it a huge victory despite the warnings.

You knew you had a crush on her, who wouldn't? Hazel could be so charming that it made your heart swell, her enthusiastic and intelligent nature caught you the moment you saw her for the first time.

Seriously, falling in love with Hazel was perhaps the easiest thing you've ever done.

Thinking you were making some progress with her, you started to feel confident enough to praise her about little things you noticed, whether in class or in the hallways.

"Your hair looks really pretty like that."

"I think I've never seen you with that hodie before, it's really cute!"

"Is that a new ring? It looks so cool."

She reacted completely surprised every time and seeing the way her face flushed up to her ears was totally worth it, even if you missed the knowing looks Josie and PJ exchanged when they witnessed it.

Spending time at your new school like this made you settled and happy. The classes were strangely short, which left you with enough time to dabble in extracurricular activities until you found something you liked and made some friends along the way, you were quiet but sociable and your interactions with Hazel, as awkward as they were, were a part of your day which you waited for. Maybe your high school could actually be a good experience in the end.

One day there is a book holding your attention while your classmates are busy with their own things due to the absence of the teacher in the room when Hazel suddenly pokes your shoulder and points with her chin at what you are reading. It takes a lot more strength than you'd like to admit not to show how excited you are about this.

"Did you know that it is possible to reproduce the same bombs as these characters in real life?"

"What?", you turn around, putting the book aside to give her your full attention, "What do you mean? Have you read this yet?"

"Well, uh–" Hazel stutters, before taking a deep breath, as if gathering courage, "No, but in the movie– in the movie they specify the type of bomb that the characters use against the threat and it's like, completely possible to replicate alone."

You raise an eyebrow, "I… definitely didn't knew that," and then you smile at her, "Are you going to tell me how it's done?"

Hazel nods proudly, confidently, and so you end up in a lecture about types of bombs that you don't understand anything about and you don't have the courage to tell Hazel that you hadn't gotten to the part where everything exploded yet and that she had just given you a spoiler.

You listen to everything with a stupid smile on your face because you've never seen her act like that with you.

At the end of the period, when you wave to her, she doesn't stumble on anything and you think you've finally, finally reached Hazel Callahan. You weren't friends, not exactly, but you were something.

You're so happy that you don't even blink about the part where you see her at the end of the day putting some books in her locker, and when you pass by her to say goodbye, Hazel closes the locker in her own hand; A tired look of defeat crosses her face quickly, but you don't notice it, nor how frustrated she looks about it.

The next day you find a note on your desk during the first period and recognize Hazel's scribbled and messy handwriting.

Get out of my class, it says.

Confusion flooded you and your heart dropped to your stomach, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

When you try to confront her, all that Hazel does is keep her nervous eyes away from you, trying her best to pretend she doesn't recognize your presence while nibbling on one of her silver necklaces and as soon as the period is over you swear you never saw someone gets through a door so fast.

You were nothing.

You don't stop going to class, obviously, but you ask Mr.G to change seats. He seems so pleased with the idea of you stopping bothering him during his explanations that it doesn't take much to convince him.

So you spend the rest of your school year sitting as far away from Hazel as possible and now you're the one avoiding her in the hallways, too embarrassed by the perspective that bothered the girl so much that she hated you to the point of even not wanting to be near you.

You also become the perfect target for jocks to bother, the student who scared the weirdo in the back who now sits at the front and only answers what the teacher asks you. Just when you think things can't get any worse, Hazel starts stumbling across your desk again, even though now the path to her own is almost the complete opposite of yours, you remain quiet and swallow how annoyed this makes you. Sometimes you look up and she's standing in front of you; Hazel freezes in her way when you notice her, mouth open as if she wants to say something, before shaking her head and running away like a puppy who got kicked, what makes you even angrier is how cute she manages to look doing this.

The last straw happens when, during your last day of school, Hazel somehow spill coffee on you and in the book you were reading at the end of the last period.

For her own credit, Hazel looks extremely guilty and speaks to you for the first time in a really long time in the form of confused apologies as she takes the book from your hands and tries to dry it on the hem of one of her expensive shirts. You are so confused about how this happened and so upset with her that you simply mumbles something back and walks past her straight to the school doors. Feeling a mix of relief and disappointment that you won't have to see Hazel until your senior year starts, you don't realize that you left the book with her until you got home. What problem does this girl have with you anyway? Either way, you don't finish the story.

The senior year begins and some things change, others remain the same. Josie and PJ are now also in Mr.G's class, which makes things a little easier and more fun; and you have as your new lab partner a girl named Isabel, a surprisingly nice cheerleader; You and Hazel still aren't speaking with each other, but at least she's stopped tripping and dropping things on you.

You feel Hazel's eyes on you during class, like she's anxious about something, but you won't talk to her if she doesn't say anything first.

One day you arrive a little earlier than usual and catch Hazel, PJ, and Josie in what they probably think is a low-key discussion, but it couldn't be further from that.

"So you haven't talked to her yet?" Came Josie's incredulous voice through the door.

"I can't! You know what happens every time I try!" You looked out the doors window to see Hazel with her head resting in her arms and looking completely defeated. "Ugh, I don't know what else to do…"

"You know, that's why the club is such a good-" PJ started and Josie interrupted her:

"But you were doing so well," she said, "It would help if you stopped acting like the girl had some deadly virus, y'know."

"No, no, no, no! Ignore it is my best option. Maybe 'til we finish school, then I won't see her again!", Hazel concluded with a head shake.

"You are so hopeless."

"Man, this is getting sad–"

They stopped talking the moment you entered the room, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder.

"Uh… Hi," they stare at you in silence, "Who were you talking about?"

"NOBODY."

"...Alright."

You pretend the rest of the period isn't weird as fuck.

One afternoon you are in your room studying with Josie when you decide to finally resolve the doubt that has haunted you for so long.

“Josie,” you call.

"Hmm?" She doesn't look up from her notebook.

"Why does Hazel hate me so much?"

"What?" Josie snaps her neck at you in shock. "She doesn't hate you. Why do you think that?"

You shrug, suddenly embarrassed at the thought, if one of Hazel's friends thought it was so absurd then maybe you were thinking too much.

"I don't know," you distracted yourself petting your cat lying against your legs, feeling vulnerable with all of it. "I just… tried really hard to get to know her. I really wanted it. But she… never seemed to want it or like it. Like me."

"It's Hazel," Josie said in a comforting tone, as if that explained everything, "She doesn't know how to talk to people."

"She talks to you." You say, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, you've got a point." She snorts, "But it's different. I'm not…"

"You're not…?"

"It's just different." Josie dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

"Then I'm the problem."

"Not a problem," she is quick to retort. "But yeah, I guess there's something to do with you."

Silence settled for a while after that, you more lost in thoughts than actually studying, until Josie spoke again:

"Y'know… we formed a club," she starts.

"Oh," you mumble, "Oh! I think I heard about that, is it seriously like fight club?" You ask, interested, Josie didn't seem like the type that like fighting.

"No!" She exclaims before clearing her throat, "No, it's not like a fight club. It's a women's empowerment and self-defense club, we teach each other there."

"...Right." You got were she was trying to get, 'us' meaning her, PJ and Hazel in a fight club.

"And Hazel is there too," and there it is, "You could come in, maybe you two get closer. Then you see that she doesn't hate you."

"I don't know, Josie." You answered.

"Oh–" She adds, her face suddenly red, "You can bring some friends if you want, like Isabel. You're friends, right? Who knows, maybe she'll bring Brittany too."

"Sure." You respond with a giggle, completely understanding your friend's intentions now. "Okay, no promises, but I'll think about it."

The rest of your afternoon passed without much conversation, with Hazel taking up most of your thoughts as she usually did.

"YOU DID WHAT?"

Josie shrugged, "I asked Y/N to the club."

The three of them were gathered in the stands when Josie decided to tell what happened in your last study session. Hazel didn't seem to be taking the news very well.

"Yes!" PJ cheered, "Did you told her to bring-"

"I did."

"But she–" Hazel interrupted, panicking. "She doesn't like me!"

Everything went silent for an awkward moment. The three of them faced each other until one broke.

"Uh, no. Dude, the girl thinks you hate her." Josie replied.

"What!?"

"What were you expecting? You treated the girl like a plague every time she tried to flirt with you."

"Flirt with me?" Hazel echoed, in completely disbelief.

Josie and PJ gave her the most tired and done looks anyone could ever give.

"Dude."

PJ, who was already fed up, started in an exaggerated voice:

"Oh yes Hazel, that shirt looks SO good on you, you should wear it more often so I can stare at your arms!"

Hazel shook her head and replied in a weak voice: “It wasn’t like that!”

"And your hair looks so pretty like this! I imagine what it would be like to run my hands through it while you kiss me so hard." PJ placed a dramatic hand against her chest.

"It wasn't like that!" Hazel tried again, "That was just… her being nice. She is so nice."

"Man, we saw it, she's only like that with you." Josie pointed at Hazel, "And I can't stand seeing you two pining for each other like that anymore. You even have the same haircut since she complimented you that one time."

Hazel's ears turned red, "But it is a good haircut."

"Oh! And those rings! I wonder what they would feel like inside–"

"ALRIGHT, ENOUGH." Josie interrupted alarmed and looked back at Hazel who seemed to be questioning her entire existence, "We told you before, that girl is down bad for you. I think she even spent the last year trying to ask you out!"

"But why?" Hazel inquired, "She's so…" She makes a dreamy noise.

"Yeah, I'm wondering about that too." PJ scoffed.

"PJ, I swear to God."

Hazel leaned on the stairs behind her in pure confusion, ignoring the last exchange.

"But what else was I supposed to do when that happened!? Give her my clothes that she liked!? One of my rings!?”

"YES–"

"NO!" Josie exclaimed, "Don't give her a ring, Hazel, for God's sake."

When everyone calmed down, Josie spoke again, seeming to want to end the conversation once and for all.

"Hazel, listen, this is almost an intervention, you're lucky we haven't locked you two in a room yet."

"It's true," PJ agreed wisely, "If it continues like this we'll have to resort to more absurd methods."

"You invented a fight club to get a girl, how is that not absurd?" Hazel looked confused.

"She didn't mean literally–"

"I did! And now you can use it to get your girl!" She boasted, "A kiss or a punch, a win is a win."

Hazel still seemed reluctant to the idea, but there was nothing else to do anyway.

"Okay, whatever!" She gestured nervously, "Maybe she won't even show up, then you'll see that you're making things up."

You really weren't going to show up at that fight club – not buying Josie's women empowerment excuse for a second – but there you were, after bringing it up with Isabel like you told Josie you would and she being completely excited about the idea. The insistence and curiosity got the best of you.

You, Isabel, and Brittany were the last to arrive, interrupting PJ's heated speech. It was embarrassing to be the center of attention.

"You guys didn't get off to a good start." Someone hums in the background, you don't know who because the moment your eyes meet Hazel she's already looking at you.

What happens next is pure chaos – the only thing that really seems to hold this school together – after PJ shouts "Y/N, you go first!" and a bunch of people clear a path in front of you, you end up in the middle of a mat.

"Uh, why do I have to go first anyway?" You ask.

"Because you're the new member." Josie responds with a nod.

“So are they,” you point to the cheerleaders watching further back in the crowd.

"It doesn't matter, it is you." PJ says, "And to be your partner, let's see…" She looks around as if analyzing the options, "…Hazel."

It takes only one look at Hazel and notice her gulps for you to know everything is going to go wrong from there.

You even handle well for a completely uncoordinated and unprepared first fight, which only happened after a very long and awkward moment of the two of you in silence that was broken when someone shouted "BEAT HER ASS UP ALREADY!"

Somehow, Hazel ends up beneath you on the mat, breathing fast, face red and her blue eyes brighter than ever, skin hot where her white t-shirt rode up a little during the confusion and you swear there was never a vision more majestic than this.

You have no idea where the impetus of courage came from to flirt with her so shamelessly, but you feel like you have a chance there, the words come out of your mouth before you can think about it:

"Looks like I finally got you, Haze."

Hazel completely freezes. You notice the exact moment her breathing hitches and Hazel's neck and ears turn red too. 'That's so gay,' you hear someone comment in the background and you're almost nodding with a stupid smile on your face and a feeling of victory in your chest.

And then you feel a quick fist on your nose, and it hurts. Hurts a lot.

You fall back with a strangled scream and a bunch of surprised exclamations from those who were watching and when you bring your hand to your face, blood is already running from your nose and you feel a burning cut on your skin.

The rings. The fucking rings.

Now, one thing they don't tell you about physical fights: a hit on the nose always, always makes you cry.

You didn't know that, so when the tears come, you can't stop some from escaping through your cheeks. You look up and Hazel looks completely horrified.

"Dude, if this is your way of flirting with someone, then you seriously need help." Josie's incredulous voice sounds from somewhere.

"When I talked about a punch I definitely didn't mean that!"

But none of you register it, because Hazel is in front of you in a second, looking more serious than you've ever seen her, taking your face in her hands quickly as she checks the wound, a chorus of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry' coming out of her mouth.

You're too busy thinking about the sensation of her touch on your skin and your burning nose to react when Hazel declares to the rest of the group that she's going to take you to the infirmary before grabbing her own backpack and helping you up. You walk in silence and she guides you by the hand the entire way while you keep the cloth she gave you weighing down the bleeding.

The infirmary is empty when you arrive – this school always seems to be incredibly understaffed – but Hazel still leaves her backpack in the corner and takes you to one of the beds in the room.

"I'm sorry." She echoes in a shy voice. "I'll take care of it, okay?" It's not really a question, she's already taking a first-aid kit out of one of the cupboards.

How did she already know where this was?

She seems to see the question written into your expression, because she responds with a short laugh and a shrug: "I end up here a lot since the club started."

You hummed in response and Hazel walked over to stand between your legs, you opened them a little more to fit her and watched as she removed the rings from her fingers, a metallic silver one with a mark of blood; the one that cut you. She looked even more guilty when she saw this.

"Why did you go to a fight with your hands full of rings anyway?" You ask, hoping to take the focus of the mark away from those sad eyes, but she just shakes her head before focusing on your injury again.

"I forgot, I guess I wasn't thinking straight. I was…" She removes the cloth from your nose carefully, letting out a hiss when she sees the result, "Damn, the cut doesn't look deep but it bled a lot, I hope it doesn't left a scar."

Hazel seemed to take a moment to realize what she said, before looked to be caught like a deer in headlights.

"Not that you wouldn't look pretty with a scar! But it's just, you know, you got hurt. I hurted you. It would be better if you didn't get scarred…" She rambled, "But you're pretty! Really pretty! Seriously, I think It wouldn't be possible to ruin your face–"

"Hazel, it's okay." You interrupt calmly, she stops embarrassed and remains silent while she takes out the things needed to treat you from the box.

She takes your face in her hands again, tilting your chin at just the right angle, with a delicacy worthy of something breakable; the position makes you nervous. Her hands are cold – you hadn't noticed that before –, icy even without the rings, surprising you considering how constantly she's been moving in the last few minutes. Your first instinct is to put them between yours to warm them up.

You do this; places her hands over youre gently, stopping her actions, Hazel's breath leaves her again.

“Hazel,” you start softly, “Why don’t you like me?”

"What!?" She exclaims, completely perplexed, "I like you."

"No, you don't." You're the one who's perplexed this time, "Ever since I started this school I've been trying to get closer to you but it never works out, everything I do always ends up with you pushing me away. It feels like you hate me." You concluded with a frustrated voice.

"Do you think I hate you?" Hazel asked, mouth agape, her hands drop and you immediately miss her touch, "Why?"

It suddenly seems really ridiculous that you're so upset with her for not reciprocating your silly crush, really embarrassing that this is the longest interaction you've had since last year and it's turning into this.

"Why? Because–" You grunt, frustrated, "You never responded to me when I tried to talk to you; kept tripping over my desk and making me smudge my notebook; ignored me in the corridors when I saw you; You didn't even want me to have lunch with you!" You listed, raising and clenching your fists in frustration, "You sent me a note asking me to leave– you– you spilled coffee on my book! And kept it!”

Hazel seems increasingly surprised by your sudden outburst, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide and her arms raised in a placating gesture. She looks so beautiful you want to cry. Your fists beat softly against her chest, soiling the soft texture of her shirt, you hang your head in defeat.

"I just… I don't know why." You mutter, "What did I do wrong?"

For a moment that seems too long, everything is silent.

"Your book," Hazel says, as if she's just realized something important. She removes your hands gently and turns to go to where her backpack is; you watch her confused.

She sets the bag down next to you on the stretcher quickly, before opening it and searching for something with a concentraded look. She takes out a book from there. Your book.

Well, not exactly, it's the same story but a different edition. You think there would be no way to make the coffee magically disappear from the pages.

"What...?" You mumble.

Hazel takes a breath, "Your book." Then she stops, as if expecting to be interrupted, "I bumped into you by accident, I swear! I bought you another one the next day and was going to give it to you, but I– I got nervous. I always get nervous around you. That's what I was going to say before."

You covered her hands with yours again, they were shaking.

"I brought it every day so I could apologize, but I was scared because I thought you hated me, you know, because of everything that happened." She shrugged, her voice going low.

You couldn't suppress a giggle, the previous frustration melting away at her sweet attitude. Hazel was always captivating and was perhaps the sweetest person you've ever seen, that thought about hers never changed, even when you thought she hated you.

Which apparently wasn't true.

You raise an eyebrow, "'Everything,' you say. You mean the note?"

Hazel blushes from neck to ears, suddenly completely embarrassed. "Ugh, that ruined everything, didn't it?" She whimpers, "I thought if I didn't talk to you then I wouldn't make a fool of myself, but it didn't worked," her lips formed a pout, "That's so stupid."

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” You interrupt, setting the book aside and pulling her by the waistband of her pants; she's so close that now you feel her breath against your face, "I don't think you're stupid. I think you're wonderful."

Hazel's breathing hitches again and this time it makes you smile.

“There’s no point on trying to avoid me that hard, Haze,” You say, a smile painting your lips, “You spent two years avoiding this and I still fell in love with you.”

Hazel pauses, as if she can't believe for a second what she just heard, you're about to ask her if she's okay when you feels her lips meeting yours in a quick movement; your nose burns when it's lightly crushed and the tape bothers you, but you wouldn't change it for nothing in the world.

Her cold hands find your waist and there they remain, fitted perfectly, you can feel her pulse racing from where your hands find way to her neck; she sighs contently when you tilt your chin to deepen the kiss, playing with the hair on the back of her neck.

Hazel pulls away too soon.

"I fell in love with you too," she says, eyes glassy, suddenly shy. "Just– just for to you know."

“Yeah,” you snort, “I think I know that now.”

She nods happily, face still red, "Good."

You laugh, “Good.”

You don't need another exchange of words as Hazel leans in again, confidently, her hands gripping your waist more hard as you trace the contour of her jaw, your tongues meeting gently.

Just when you feel Hazel's smile grow during the kiss and you think about maybe closing your legs around her waist to bring her closer, the door of the infirmary opens with a bang, barely giving you time to separate.

"JOSIE," PJ shouts, turning to face the hallway, "THEY'RE SUCKING EACH OTHER'S FACE! NO NEED TO STEAL THE KEYS TO THE JANITOR'S ROOM, EVERYTHING WORKED OUT!"

"OKAY," Josie's voice answers from far away, "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO SHOUT WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO, IDIOT!"

"SHUT UP," She responds and then turns to you from where you both watch her completely confused, "Keep being gay, we'll be at the club meeting."

PJ leaves the room without even closing the door and you and Hazel exchange the most confused look anyone could give.

"What the fuck was she talking about?" You ask.

Hazel rests her forehead on your shoulder, "Trust me, you don't want to know."

And you know she's probably right, "Okay," you give in easily.

Then you kiss her, again and again and again, just because now you can.

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #denwrites

[twstedstoryshop]

Prize for @windalchemist001 from my fan event in August. I apologize deeply to the prize winners for how long these are taking as my life is taken up a lot by my new job and that drains me of working on these. But these are slowly but surely coming along, I assure you. Until then, please bear with me. -Shopkeep

Finding Out You Have A Crush On Him

Trey I believe would come to figure out your crush through overheard conversations or someone having to spell it out for him. Either due to Ace and Deuce unknowingly gossiping over your crush or Cater just straight up telling him in his own Cay-Cay way.

Now Trey wasn’t a romanticist at heart, especially considering how he blundered with the Ghost Bride way back when. So with this newfound knowledge, Trey would do the best thing he can think of… Sit on this knowledge and never let it surface.

What else is he supposed to do? Go charging up to you, declaring he likes you too and should totally start dating? That wouldn’t be fair to you, putting you on the spot.

Instead, he allows you to let you sort out your feelings, whether you pursue them or not. There’s no pressure in whatever choice you do.

Though it wouldn’t be too hard to notice on your end that Trey would start acting a bit awkward and stiff. He doesn’t mean to come off like that, but when in the face of someone he knows who likes him, he can’t help but maybe straighten his posture more. Maybe act a bit more softer.

Trey is always marked as the reliable older brother type. So with a highschool crush on him, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe act a little like his age. An awkward boy unsure of how to navigate this newfound affection. Who knows, maybe act a bit selfish and roll a little in your attention just for him alone.

Malleus could either or having someone tell him about your crush. Most likely Lilia in his teasing ways. Or perhaps with his keener senses, noticed your affections for him.

With the knowledge of your crush, Malleus would feely content in the way a satisfied cat would smirk after finishing its creme. It would be hard not to catch Malleus’ very good mood for the following days.

The weather would be pleasant, not a single cloud in the sky, and the wind is gentle. Something that may or may not catch some of NRC’s attention, especially if it’s expected to be cold or rainy weather for the season.

Malleus, while eager, would wait with baited breath to see what his dear child of man would do to convey their love. It gives him a great satisfaction to be wanted and chased after, so he would want to hear it from you first.

Even if you have stutters or slip-ups, Malleus finds it all so endearing and locks your attempts of confession under lock and key in his memory. What he wouldn’t allow is if someone dares to interrupt you when you’re working up the courage to tell your feelings.

A quick thunderclap and a venomous glare gets his point across before he immediately looks back to you with a softened expression. “You were saying, my dear child of man?”

It would be a relatively peaceful courtship until the confession is made thanks to some sway from the dragon prince himself.

Silver would definitely have to be told outright of your feelings. For comedy’s sake, it would be hilarious if the one who had to spell things out for him was Sebek of all people.

The loud-mouthed proud guard would be aghast of how oblivious Silver was. The fact that he could pinpoint something beyond Silver’s recognition has him smug one moment but also a little annoyed for your sake. Not that he would ever admit that.

Once Silver truly digested Sebek’s words, Silver’s handsome features would burst into a magnificent shade of pink. Flushed either from embarrassment over his crude unawareness and a part deeply flattered by your affection.

Silver wouldn’t make any moves though as you mulled over your feelings. He wouldn’t dare try to put you on the spot, but you do notice how lately he feels a bit more caring and gentleman-ly personally for you.

If Malleus or Lilia didn’t need him, Silver would often escort you wherever you needed to go despite you knowing your way around. He even tries to lend a hand in helping you study. Despite his own grades suffering a bit with his sleeping habits.

Silver would be uncertain about all this though, truth be spoken. He’s never really had romantic feelings before or felt much need for a romance in the first place. But the idea that someone liked him so innocently and sincerely does charm him profoundly.

Like a shy forest creature, daring to come near him and be in his presence, he only wished to offer his hand towards you. Who knows, maybe falling a lil bit in love wouldn’t be so bad during his high school days…

#lovelygrimoire #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst silver x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland hcs #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twst scenario #twisted wonderland scenario

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Bruised and Battered

Kol Mikaelson Helping You Through An Injury Headcanons :

(Prepare for immense fluff)

Sweet baby Kol...

First of all, this boi would feel sooooooo awful about you getting hurt.

(How could this happen??? He left you alone for five seconds???)

He doesn't blame you at all whatsoever. Even if you were being dumb.

If it was someone else's fault...

Well, let's just say that if you broke an arm, this person would find both arms freaking shattered beyond recognition.

Is that useless hunk of flesh even an arm anymore? Nobody knows.

He does get a little frustrated with you tho. Just a bit

Why won't you take his blood? It would make this so much easier!

(news flash: that's nasty and you don't want to take no chances!)

It physically pains him when the doctors won't let him go back with you for x-rays. He can hear your whimpers of pain through the walls and it makes him want to cry. He just curls up in a ball and waits it out.

If you have to get surgery??

Heaven help the poor hospital staff...

It KILLS him that he can't be by your side the whole time.

Kol would be pacing back and forth in the waiting room, tugging at his hair and telling himself all the reasons you're gonna be fine. Over and over and over again.

He is there the second you wake up.

Technically he's not supposed to be, but if compulsion can't keep the nurses and doctors quiet then the cold chilling glare he dishes out certainly will.

Once you're home, you will not be doing anything for yourself.

Movies.

Anything you want to watch. All day. Even if he hates it.

Unlimited popcorn supply!

He will get you whatever you want to eat or better yet he'll compel someone else to do it so he doesn't have to leave your side.

So. Many. Hugs.

Cuddles.

Cuddles all the time

All the cuddles.

Seeing you in pain tortures him.

If he accidentally bumps you he will apologize ENDLESSLY.

He's always asking what he can do to make it better

He can't really do anything and that's the worst part

You just ask him to stay

He's only too glad to do just that.

Though he certainly remembers to give you your medication. Even if it's 1 AM. He never forgets.

He stays with you all through the night. Every night.

If you wake up in tears from sleeping wrong, he's right there to hold you close.

If it were up to him, he would never let you go.

Scars from surgery?

Kol would make it his mission to keep you from hating them.

He would tell you how cool they look all the time

Also, the gentlest kisses.

He would kiss every inch of those scars.

Endless "I love you"s

Don't think for a second that you're a burden because he will go into a 20 minute speech about how he has literally nothing better to do with his immortal existence.

When it's time for physical therapy, he always makes sure you can get to your appointments.

Kol would 100% compel the therapists to let him come back with you and cheer you on (even though seeing you struggle makes him want to scoop you up and hold you until the tears go away)

He always makes sure you do your exercises too. There is no amount of bribing that can sway this man. You are doing those exercises.

End. Of. Story.

So encouraging tho. The complements are ever flowing from his lips.

And again, all the cuddles after you finish.

Constantly making jokes.

"If I rip off one of your arms, that will make it better right? I mean, it will certainly distract you from the pain!"

Kol would also help you come up with an excellent story for how it happened.

Whether it be jousting on unicorns, fencing with glass blades, or assassinating the president, there is no limit to his creativity.

Kol would do literally anything to see you smile.

Special thanks to: @space-princess-charming

#my name is cas and i write stuff #kol mikaelson #fanfic #the originals #fluff #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson headcanons #kol mikaelson fan fiction #kol mikaelson fanfiction #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus x reader #the vampire diaries #the originals headcanon #the mikaelsons #tvd #tvd headcanons #tvd fanfiction #tvd fanfic #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #sweet bby #reader insert #kol x reader #x reader #tvd imagine #vampire diaries headcannon #injury headcanon #fluffy fluff

[altschmerzes]

just gonna say this though: i am profoundly disappointed and angry that ted lasso became just another show in a long line of shows that disregard and fail victims/survivors when writing narratives about child abuse.

what we saw at the end of that finale was supposed to be a montage of happy endings. everyone got what they wanted, what they needed, everyone was happy. but what they showed us was not jamie’s happy ending. it was his father’s.

because what we saw wasn’t an acknowledgement of anything that happened to him. (i would’ve had issues with this regardless, even if this had happened, but-) this was not a ‘let’s sit and laugh and smile and go through photos and reconcile’ that came after an acknowledgement, an apology, a validation of anything jamie went through. there was no recognition of what he suffered because of that man, no amends, nobody on this show ever once so much as used the word ‘abuse.’ once, one time, did one person refer to something that happened as ‘traumatizing.’ and it just falls in line with every other show out there who wrote a storyline about an abusive parent clearly approached from the point of view of a parent and not the point of view of someone who was victimized.

people can choose to reconcile with abusers for all sorts of reasons, and i get that. but jamie is not a human person making choices for complicated personal reasons. he is a character in a show being written by writers who are making choices, and none of those choices involved validating or even directly recognizing the profound harm caused by emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. in a montage of happy endings, that was not a happy ending for an abuse victim, when he was shown sitting happy and smiling and hanging out with his abuser, who never once took accountability for what he did, never mind the show allowing for the possibility that sometimes people CAN actually cause so much harm to others that they are not entitled to their victim’s time and forgiveness, and it may not be safe or healthy for them to give it. that was a happy ending for an abuser, who got what HE wanted, what made HIS life better.

i dont know why i hoped for better on this subject when this show has honestly consistently dropped the ball with recognizing and reckoning with the abuse it wrote, when literally every show seems to pull this shit. but im still, as an abuse survivor who loves this show, feel incredibly stung and hurt not only by what they pulled last episode but by what they added in there at the end of the finale. to anyone else out there feeling as hurt by that as i do, im so sorry. we deserve better from the people telling our stories, and we deserve versions of our stories that don’t prioritize Family Togetherness and Blanket Forgiveness Forever at the expense of the health, safety, and happiness of survivors.

#gav gab #ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #man im just. #it was a two second scene but it was profoundly disrespectful and cruel to abuse survivors on the whole #and to jamie as a character #abuse mention #long post #sorry im just. #man. that sucked. that hurt a Lot.

[littlemissmanga]

Hey hun,

Mind if I throw a request in? Could you do “Are you wearing my shirt…and only my shirt?” with Wrecker?

Anyway hope all is well <3

Hi dearie!

Of course I don't mind! And ABSOLUTELY THIS ONE. I immediately thought "Wrecker" when I saw it on the list and was hoping someone would send it in!! I may have just written it anyway lol

I'm sorry, though, I said fuck it to the 200 word limit. This is too good to restrain, though I kept it under 1k.

Send me one of the following for a 200 word clone drabble

Pairing: Wrecker x f!Reader

W/C: 733

Warning: NSFW, spice below the cut y'all so 18+ only. (but only the last paragraph so you can still read most of the prompt and just stop there and be ok if you don't want spice).

Wrecker felt bad, but a little white lie wasn’t gonna hurt anyone. And it was believable that he’d forget something.

So when the rest of the Batch stayed at Cid’s thinking he was running back to the ship to grab something, he slipped through the back alleys to your apartment. He just didn’t want his brothers teasin’ him and taking his time away from you.

He had spent a few nights with you before, and now that he was back planetside, he couldn’t wait to be where he had started to consider home. That it would be a surprise made a smile spread easy over his lips.

Taking the steps two at a time, Wrecker punched in the code to your front door with barely restrained exuberance. In fact, he was so excited to finally have you in his arms, he didn’t fully register the sight in front of him before shouting.

“Where’s my sweet-”

Recognition stole his words as heat coursed through him. You had also frozen, a spoon caught between your teeth, interrupted mid-bite. But that wasn’t what got him. No what stole his words was how you sat — with each inch of your bare legs visible as they crisscrossed in front of you. Raising his eyes, he nearly lost it at the sight of your torso drowning in a shirt far too large for you, the black fabric looking very familiar.

“Wrecker!” You leapt from your seat to run to him, but before you could reach for him, Wrecker caught your arms, holding you lightly but firmly out in front of him.

“A-are you wearing my shirt?”

“Huh?” You looked down, tugging out the hem to make the shirt look even larger on you. Wrecker swallowed, hard. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. I … I like wearing them when you’re gone. Sorry.”

Your voice got quiet at the end of your explanation, your eyes darting demurely to the side. But Wrecker’s thoughts grew much louder and bolder as his smile returned.

“Oh no, don’t you apologize. Kriff, you look so good in that.”

He pulled you into him and knelt to get a good hold at the top of your thighs to lift you to his level. He wanted to kiss you until neither of you could breathe, and distance was his enemy to that end. But as he stood to his full height, you in his arms, he felt nothing but the flesh of your ass brush the top of his fingers.

A wry brow lifted, and Wrecker tightened his grip as a wave of heat coursed through him. “Heh, are you wearing only my shirt, pretty girl?” he asked playfully.

Maker, he wished his cybernetic eye could record the way Tech’s goggles could because he never wanted to forget how karking adorable you were when you nodded bashfully.

“It’s laundry day,” you said, as if that was an explanation he should understand. But he didn’t care. All he needed to understand was that you were in his arms, wearing literally nothing but his clothing and barely even that.

He let his hand slide higher, his fingers brushing against your core, groaning at the wetness that greeted him. You jolted in his grip, hands flying to his shoulders and holding on tight.

As if he would ever drop you. As if he would ever let you go.

“You been getting my shirt all wet and messy?” He grumbled, grinning at how you shiver in response to his voice so close to your ear.

“N-not on purpose,” you huffed, pride curling in him at your breathlessness. He dragged the tip of his finger through your folds to press against your clit, groaning again at your responding mewl.

The sounds you made could make him cum right there if he were a weaker man.

“Well, I say we do it on purpose.”

His shirt stayed on as he kissed you. It stayed on as he laid you out before him like a buffet, rucked up just enough to display everything you had to offer his eager tongue. It stayed on as he opened you up on his fingers, earning more of those pretty sounds as you came around him. And it stayed on as he flipped you over and bent you over the couch he found you on, taking his pleasure as he gave you yours.

Tagging @merkitty49 and @wreckers-wife since I know you both love the big guy as much as L and I do :)

#girl i had way too much fun with this #i was so excited I wrote it over my lunch break #couldn't get these thots out of my head #thank you thank you thank you #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #tbb wrecker #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #my sweet wrecker

[tsumune]

not as he seems

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

tags: fluff

sakusa kiyoomi is not as he seems.

from a young age, everyone’s expected him to be the quiet one. the one who doesn’t really say anything unless it’s necessary, and always keeps his words short and to the point. they don’t know that he loves to talk about his interests, and will often ramble to komori about things from his pet chick to the best way to make umeboshi.

everyone expects him to be the mature one, the one who’s calm and composed in any situation. they don’t know that he called his msby roommates in a panic when a cockroach showed up in his bathroom, and might have even burned down the apartment had atsumu not stopped him.

everyone expects him to be blunt, the one who always stands his ground when it comes to his likes and dislikes. and well, he does, they’re not wrong there. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel bad when he hurts people’s feelings. that’s never his intention. he’s just the type of guy who knows how he wants to live each day, and wants to be true to himself. “to go out thinking i could be done at any time, and still be satisfied” is something he goes by both on court and off.

he wonders if he’ll ever find someone who’ll accept him for who he is.

until he meets you.

you, who lets him ramble about all sorts of topics, shushing his apologies and running your fingers through his hair when he feels he’s said too much, whispering a simple “i like hearing your thoughts” that dispels all his worries.

you, who stands in between him and the spider on the wall and grips the newspaper in your hand so hard the words are wrinkled beyond recognition. you laugh that it was no big deal after, even as your hands shake under the faucet water.

and you, who understands the importance of paying proper care to things. you don’t laugh when he insists on measuring every single ingredient in a recipe. “just go with your gut sakusa, it doesn’t need to be exact” is what he’s used to (and tired of) hearing. you don’t get offended when he keeps his distance when you’re sick, though he always makes soup and leaves a basin of water with some towels outside your door. you accept how much volleyball factors into his life. you tell him not to rush home -  “make sure you stretch after practice first” - and reassure him that you’ll always be waiting for him.

for once in his life, sakusa finally feels he’s living true to himself even when someone else is in the picture.

#whew #me finally writing again? #it's more likely than you think #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #(this was written like a month ago i just finally got around to editing it)

[risustravelogue]

You, and Only You

Summary:

Hope is the light at the end of the tunnel.

Featuring:

Tighnari (brief appearance), Alhaitham, Chubby Depressed!Reader

Tone:

Angst... with a happy ending. :)

Note:

An expansion of the second part of this headcanon. Second (impromptu) submission for @haithamuse's birthday collab. Enjoy getting hurt! 💚 CW: Depression, thoughts of self-hate, self-worth issues, emotional detachment, depersonalization. Heavy self-insert.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

That fateful day, you met up with him at the café to talk. He sat across you and held your hand.

“What is it you want to talk about?” he asked.

You gulped. Deep breaths. It’s okay, he’s my boyfriend. He’ll understand.

“I went to talk with a psychiatrist,” you began. “She said I have clinical depression.”

“Ah,” he sighed.

He lowered his gaze. You could swear you heard him whisper, perfect timing.

He turned to look back at you with a sickeningly sweet smile as he withdrew his hand from yours.

“Then, I’m ending this. Us, I mean.”

Your body went numb. “What?”

“Yes, well. I’ve long since suspected something like that was going on.”

You could almost hear the cracking sound of your heart breaking.

“And I am not dealing with it.”

Crash.

“I intend to end this sooner or later anyway.”

Burn.

You asked him why. “Why are you doing this?” “Did I do something wrong?” “Can I salvage this?” Just please, please don’t leave me—

You asked him even though you already knew the answer. He’s grown sick of me.

In the end, he left you with lots of excuses but never an apology.

You figured it was because you deserved nothing of the sort.

For no one owes the songless bird a chance to sing.

—

You woke up to someone knocking on the door. A familiar voice called your name several times.

“It’s Tighnari. You haven’t gone out of your room for two days.”

A pause.

“I’m worried about you. May I come in?”

You put the blanket over your head.

“Go away, Nari.”

A sob.

“You shouldn’t talk to a piece of shit like me.”

A muffled hiss.

“You are not a piece of shit.”

Another sob.

“Then tell me, what should I call myself? I’m a defect and no one—”

A choking sound.

“No one will ever love me.”

The sound of the door opening. Footsteps approaching. A dip on the bed. The light brush of a tail on your feet and a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t say that, please. You’re my dear friend. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. Not even your diagnosis.”

The bed sprung back up.

“I’ll help you pack your things, all right? I’m bringing you to Gandharva Ville, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You burst into tears again. Only the sound of your sobs and the shuffling of your clothes getting packed filled the room. Tighnari held your hand all the way to the carriage that brought you to Gandharva Ville, then shifted to patting your back along the way. A week off was the best he could help you get on such short notice—but that short week held your life together for the months ahead.

—

You’d been taking medication for several months. They had desirable effects, that much you didn’t deny. They fixed your sleep schedule, and the pain in your chest has numbed considerably.

But you knew that no medication could fill the emptiness in your heart.

“Why don’t you try joining a book club?” Tighnari had said. “You’ve always loved books, and the shared interests would make it easier for you to blend in.”

So here you were, in front of a house not far from the Akademiya. Some people were conversing just outside, and they invited you in when you asked about the book club.

You spotted a familiar gray head amongst the people sitting in the living room when you stepped inside.

… Alhaitham?

You felt chills all over your skin as he turned his gaze your way. Your lips parted when his eyes widened in recognition. You held your breath as he got up from his seat and walked toward you with restrained haste, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Hi,” he said.

His voice. I’ve almost forgotten his voice.

Your eyes felt hot as you held yourself back from embracing him there and then.

“Hi,” you squeaked.

You gulped down words you could never tell him. I’ve been missing you.

You clenched your fists to ground yourself. No, no. Do not even dare to hope. You will never accept me.

Your mind screamed words—words you could never let out because I am not worthy of you.

Words you could never say because you deserve the best, not a defect like me.

Your mind went blank, your breath hitched, because I’ve been missing you for so long, and I want your arms to wrap around me, for you to say you’ve been missing me too.

But you’re not mine, and you will never be.

Your eyes grew hotter, but you forced your lips to form a smile anyway.

“Long time no see,” your voice said.

—

“So that’s… yeah. That’s my update.”

A shiver rippled through every inch of your skin as Alhaitham took your hand into his and squeezed. His usually-sharp eyes looked deep into yours with a mellow gaze.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He squeezed your hand harder. “I should’ve—”

He shook his head.

“No. Never mind,” he said. He gave you a small smile as his fingers fiddled with yours, eliciting a blush from you. “Would you like me to slowly end his career or something?”

You grinned. You are such a softie. “No need,” you said. Thank you. “He’s not worth it.”

He hummed. “If you say so.”

You couldn’t help but notice that he always had his hands on you for the rest of the book club meet-up.

—

His soft, warm lips. The same lips you’d been daydreaming of for years, the same lips you’d kissed a thousand times in your mind, were pressing gently against your own lips, against you.

“I love you,” he declared softly, a tender smile on his lips. It’s that smile. “I’ve been in love with you since we were classmates.”

You felt tears start welling up in your eyes. “That long? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You already had a boyfriend when I realized my feelings for you. I’m sorry. I should’ve investigated more instead of just giving up and staying away.”

You felt your chest clenching. No, don’t be sorry. You didn’t wrong me.

You leaned forward to place a light kiss on his lips. If this is a dream, I hope it never ends. He pulled back in surprise.

You chuckled at his reaction. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

You let your tears roll down your cheeks as he gathered you into his arms, pressing your temple onto his sculpted chest.

—

“You’re never a waste of my time. I said I love you, and I mean it.”

He placed a kiss on your lips.

“I don’t mind that you’re chubby, or rather sickly, or prone to insecurities because of an illness you never wanted.”

Another kiss. He pulled away after a while, his half-lidded verdant eyes looking straight into yours. He smiled.

“I’ll always be there for you because I love you, and that’s final.”

—

“You are the love of my life, and I want you by my side for the rest of my days. Will you marry me?”

You let out an unceremonious sob.

“You still need to ask? I’m already yours, forever.”

—

“I, Alhaitham, take you as my wife.”

“And I…” You say your name with a shaky breath. “I take you as my husband.” 

You put your arms around his neck as his hands find their way to your waist, pulling your body against his. He chuckles as he dips in to kiss your lips. The sound of your heartbeat is so loud, it drowns the small crowd’s cheers and sobs.

“You are perfect, my love,” he whispers. An evergreen smile blooms on his lips. “Until death do us part—no, until the end of time, I will always, always love you, and only you.”

You pull him into another kiss, savoring his warmth like there’s no tomorrow.

“And I, you.”

A bird’s song pierces through the cool morning air.

© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #kurisu writes

[your-fave-adopted-you]

Hello!

Can I make a request with the guardians who find out that in another world fem!MC didn't have a good father figure? She has suffered psychological trauma and is afraid of men. Therefore fem!MC literally cries every time the guardian shows concern for her or gives her some kind of gift, because her father never did it.

Thank you for considering my request!

— anon🍤

We're really in it for the daddy issues huh, anon? well, same.

Guardian! School staff + fem! Mc with a shitty father back in her Home- world

Characters : Dire Crowley, Divus Crewel, Mozus Trein, Ashton Vargas

TW : Crowley being delusional. Slight mentions of emotional abuse.

Context : (y/n) is always doing her best as both a student and a classmate, helping people all the time and studying must be exhausting! her guardian knows that, and as recognition for her efforts, he sends her a gift. (Not Trein tho, he has enough kids to notice somethings wrong right away)

But wait, why is she frowning like that?

Dire Crowley

Oh! what a good student you are! what a kind classmate, no doubt!

of course all thanks to your amazing role model.

You're such a good kid! you never complain when your beloved dad asks for tiny little favors!

unlike your crusty, musty, almost rodent- excuse for a roommate

Ah, yes! such a great attitude is worthy of a sweet, sweet reward, right?

when you go back to Ramshackle after your classes, you notice a package in front of the door.

it has a note on it.

"Like father, like daughter! thanks for being such a great example for the others, (y/n)! ( please, open this inside)"

it also has a little poorly drawn picture of himself smiling and waving in the back of it.

when you get inside and you open it, it has ten claw-shaped silver rings, similar to the ones your guardian is always wearing.

you put them on one by one, and stare at your hands for a while.

you're frowning.

in fact, you feel your cheeks get warm, your eyes water.

what is this?

Crowley literally spawns out of nowhere, from behind you.

He rushes to see what's wrong.

you don't even question his presence, i mean, it's Crowley.

he's probably been there for a while, just to see your genuine, grateful reaction to his amazing gift!

and now you're crying.

"Are you okay, y/n ?? Does it hurt your skin???" he says noticing you're not wearing gloves underneath. "wait you're not fae either way... what's wrong????"

Your weird-ass dad is worried sick and that only makes you more emotional.

you two sit down on one of the couches.

You see, Crowley is not the best person on earth, let alone guardian.

In fact, in a lot of ways he's very questionable.

you knew that.

And still he was so much better than your actual father back home.

He had never ever insulted you, or shouted at you while he watched you cry.

It's true that sometimes he could be a little off-putting, but you never felt the need to be alert in his presence.

And when he gives you a gift it's not something he doesn't want, hell, it isn't any kind of up-front payment for any favor.

it wasn't an apology.

it was just a gift.

and for some reason, there's something so heartbreaking about that notion, there's so much grief that you're feeling, and have no idea of what to do with it.

so things like this do happen, huh?

you didn't want to think you hated men. it was stupid to hate half of the population.

And yet you always found yourself avoiding your teachers, and many students, except for Epel, for some reason.

Crowley was a good reason as to why believe that men in general were straight up sketchy.

And still, there he was. Silently by your side. waiting for you to let it all out. (confused, but trying)

Maybe he wanted to hug you, he wasn't sure if he should.

You just covered your face with your clawed hands.

Once you were done crying, you looked at them silently.

you weren't alone anymore. And the tears shining as they slid off the silver were proof of that.

By the way, Crowley is finally researching how to reach your world, but just so he can punch your father in the gut.

Divus Crewel

In Crewels eyes, you were the perfect kid. No questions asked.

You were always sincere about anything he asked you regarding his appearance.

"What do you think about this new tie, y/n?" "Do you think the socks and my coat are mismatched today? i have the impression..." "Hey, pup! is it noticeable that I'm wearing scarlet gloves today, instead of the usual crimson?"

Also, you showed to be quite determined and responsible, which was amazing but,

you were always alone, for some reason.

Anyone would think you were just very shy and introverted.

He kinda knew there was more to that but he also thought it would be better to let you open up to him about that subject.

also, you kept asking him to do your projects alone, in potionology, alchemy and so on, you always insisted in not having a partner, stuff like that.

even with this habit of taking all the work to yourself, you had pretty decent grades, so he decided to buy you a gift.

after your last class of the day, your guardian texts you, he has a surprise for you, so come see him!

When you do, he's waiting for you holding a beautifully wrapped box.

you open it and....!

there's a plushie of a puppy inside!

"Do you like it, pup? would you at least let him accompany you?"

you stay silent.

"it reminded me of you... Hey, are you okay?"

Why are you holding the plush like that, sinking your fingers on it? so tight that it looks like you want to suffocate it?

And why isn't Crewel immediately asking for something in return?

why does he look actually concerned, instead of expecting?

And most important, why are you asking yourself that?

"how much did it cost...?" you ask faintly.

"Why would you ask me that? y/n, are you okay?"

"Sorry, i didn't mean to-" and there they are, the tears that had been blurring your vision.

Since you got here, on Twisted Wonderland, no one has really treated you like back at home.

The boys tend to be kind and chaotic, and if they try to tease you they're immediately scolded by the teachers.

Right, the teachers. Your new guardian, Crewel never treated you with disrespect, he didn't scream at you like your father did, he was sassy on occasion, but he never insulted you.

But you weren't as relieved by that as you thought you should be, so

why were you so mad? so enraged?

why was your blood boiling while you stared at the cute puppy you were holding?

Because you had always deserved that, that's why.

Because it's right now, and not sooner, that you're finally experiencing the treatment you had always deserved.

Because you didn't even know what was it like to be loved and appreciated by your father, you only knew that yours was failing you at that.

you finally let yourself cry like a baby, Crewel, unsure of what to do, hugs you from the side and lets you complain about how you hated how your father back at home treated you.

You thank him for the gift and finally express your issue with men in general, you had to grow wary of them as a result of your home life.

next day you suddenly have a partner for the next upcoming project, and it seems like it's a certain someone that is more than glad to help you, and that will be patient no matter what.

Mozus Trein

I tell you, this man knows what's up.

He got really mad at you once, you kept dozing off during his lesson and threw a tiny piece of chalk at you.

obviously it wasn't meant to hurt you or anything

but your reaction was... strange.

just by raising his hand he noticed that you were... a little startled.

you flinched even before the chalk flew towards you, like if you fully expected it.

It was the first and last time he did that, because he didn't quite like that look on your face.

also, you apologized a little too many times about that.

For goodness sake, you hadn't killed his cat or anything.

So yeah, he kept an eye on you after that.

He noticed that you didn't like to hang out with your peers, it was strange

Because personality wise, you were nothing like, let's say, mr.Shroud.

Today, you're not even looking at him in the eye.

Suspicious.

when he asks about homework, you mutter that Grim ate it.

Now, don't misinterpretate this situation ok?

he believes you

But Grim is your roommate, you LIVE WITH HIM

listen. you know him. YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN BETTER THAN PUTTING YOUR HOMEWORK IN A PLACE WHERE HE COULD REACH IT.

It's your responsibility yk you're the one living with a literal monster.

As scary as Mr.Trein sounds, the rest of the students are laughing their ass off behind their books

and i don't blame them.

but you're starting to get a little too upset.

So you get up and and go away.

you were crying. literal tears???? but why????

he had only raised his voiced a little.

It wasn't even that big of an issue-

why were you crying???

you're more embarrassed than upset ngl

when the lesson ends you're a bit more calm, and he calls you in.

He knows that you've been crying.

You know he knows.

what a mess.

after apologizing a million times for leaving earlier, he finally asks you directly.

was he really that scary?

Since you've had time to think, you explain what kind of home life you had before and that in retrospective, it may had fucked you up a little bit.

after a very uncomfortable silence, maybe you can't tell-

But his gaze has softened.

"y/n, dear... that is not going to happen again, and I'm personally responsible for your wellbeing so, if i try and show more patience, could you perhaps gift me some of your trust?"

yeah it's definitely easier said than done.

Still, the following days every time you fuck up he will teach you how to do things right, instead of angrily asking you why you didn't get them right in the first place.

it's a little step at a time, but you're already feeling better.

Also, Grim is a great ice breaker, you find out that half of your classmates are straight up himbos.

you're safe here.

Ashton Vargas

this is yet another overly proud dad.

he will refer to himself as your dad no matter what. you're his kid now alright.

Truth is, you two don't have a lot in common, at least interest-wise.

but he appreciates you for always trying your best.

lately he had noticed you yelling obscenities at the tv.

you're not really into sports but you've been watching the sport's channel a lot.

turns out there was certain team from certain academy that you ABSOLUTELY DESPISED

so you watch their competitions just to pray on their downfall. It's really satisfying seeing them lose especially since they are so popular.

Ashton finds this so entertaining omg

It's almost as funny as watching the first time Mr.Ashengrotto tried to get on a broom.

next weekend he surprises you with two tickets to their next game!

you are so excited!!

since the very minute the game starts you insult them every chance you get, every time they mess up.

your guardian is also having the time of his life seeing you so invested.

Dad is so proud of his little hater girl!!!

suddenly the crowd goes silent.

there's so much tension in the air!!!

AAAAAAND BY 3 POINTS THOSE ASSHOLES HAVE LOST!!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!

you jump and cheer, to no one in particular actually.

then he notices you're tearing up a little.

"what's wrong? did you actually want them to win???" he shouts so you can hear him

you look at him as tears run down your face, at first you have a big smile on your face but then...

Your guardian can be a little too much at times.

He can be tiring, sometimes he can be very hard headed.

But he always means well.

Since you got to twisted wonderland, he's the one you come after when you're scared, or tired, or sad.

he's very good at being a dad!

oh you can tell.

because never in your life you would be living a moment like this back at home.

it's a bittersweet feeling, really.

Because your own father could not even treat you like a person with, actual feelings most days.

And then, this teacher that knows so little about your previous life is so open to help you whenever you need, to lift up your spirits and push you to be better...

when you arrived you were intimidated by the rest of the school staff but honestly this man has made everything easier.

is it enough reason to feel so moved?

maybe, who knows...

you will tell him everything he should know about what kind of challenges you went through

but now,

right now,

This stupid team that you hate so much has lost yet another time.

#twst x mc #twst x reader #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas

[septembersghost]

the thing that concerns me about a lot of conversations nowadays is that the internet has wholly conflated active harm that requires serious response (prejudices/harassment/abuse/violence) and just ordinary human failings, flaws, and mistakes under the same umbrella as "Problematic™ and must be judged and thoroughly penalized," and it's utterly erasing not only nuance and empathy and the capacity for apology/amends/forgiveness, but also any space for growth or discussion of how people can still be good and have value and earn recognition regardless of if they misstep somewhere personally. which is ludicrous because EVERYONE missteps personally. if someone tells you they've never said the wrong thing or hurt someone (even if they didn't mean to) or hung out with someone they realized they shouldn't have or made a bad choice or-...they're lying. everyone has, sometimes it's humiliating and painful, but it's also how we learn and mature.

blanket condemnation for these smaller failings means no one gets to learn anything ever, it's just about judgement and punishment, something that is literally proven ineffective in fostering positive change. it's making the discussions self-righteous without any sense of awareness, and it's fostering an idea of inherent badness and unforgivableness following a mistake that i find unsettling and concerning. that's not how the world works and that's not how people should be approached, and if you have no room for compassion and nuance, you are functionally making yourself puritanical. you are going to live in constant terror of messing up. you are going to start perceiving everything in the narrowest possible black and white parameters. you are limiting your own ability for understanding and recovery.

idk how we fix this, but i think it would really behoove fandom to stop breaking things down into their most shallow and hypercritical elements for imaginary internet points. if the worth and meaning of art and the facets of humanity aren't centered, i'm not sure what hope we have or what we're doing.

#this is about three distinct topics but the same purity culture aggravation in each btw #sigh #fandom discourse #jess.mess

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

kerosene and other dietary supplements

there’s a dryness in the center of bite wounds, the ones that can’t get all the way through

teeth and saliva and blood; that little semi-circle of perfect fifths

but the skin between remains unblistered, unbroken, dry and calm

it’s funny, as long as a morgue kicking laughter into grief is a joke

if it's still humor when the ouroboros reaches the end of its tail and stares back at itself

eyes and recognition and fear meeting for a second

the moment it takes for a jaw to widen, eyes rolling back in the lunge

and the snake is lust, it is doubt and a choking scream and violence

so tightly coiled it must forfeit sight to part its teeth

directionless and thrashing and begging for someone to do that again

take up shed blade and intent and for god’s sake aim for something important

but mostly it sleeps in your chest, and mostly it isn’t a snake, and mostly you live around it

and it’s not lust

it is anger, enough pain and blood and guilt and violence for a lifetime

astounding what you can fit into fifteen minutes with a little depersonalization and a paring knife

still not lust

but there is a sex to it

something in the movement, in the quiet desperate shuffling

because it’s sex and it's grief and you don't even have to cry during

it’s sex and it's the closest you can get to dying without drawing attention to yourself

it’s tearing your skin down to brass tacks because maybe if you can get at the support hooks you can talk them into fitting correctly

it’s standing in the basin of a church parking lot on a thursday afternoon

slamming god’s finest car door into your forearm until it remembers who it belongs to

it hurts like godfire and it’s the closest thing you can have to sex without taking your clothes off

and it’s lust the same way that shallow midnight anguish is lust

it’s lust like an apology that stalls out, somewhere between bile and teeth

like a rotting pomegranate, like a dead spider, blood and skin and eyes

smeared ever so slightly between your palm and the hole it was trying to escape to

it’s lust for as long as anger has to be yelling

has to seethe and bare teeth and throw plates at raised arms

as long as anger does not realize how to smile, to placate, to pray

(as long as i love you has to be true)

as long as you have to stare unblinking into the wound before it’s allowed to kill you

allowed to pus and rot and burrow through flesh until there isn’t any

lust like a maggot cupped gently into a corpse, bathed in sunlight

it’s lust because the grief counsellor can never dig quite fast enough

hard to keep up with the dirt, armed with your own inertia and twenty court-ordered minutes

and the kind of grief that doesn’t grip the silverware drawer to hurt other people

they never get to weapons made of strangers

to clothing that debrides skin if you fold it right, if you ask nicely

to throwing yourself against nails and teeth and flared collarbones

until the bruises start to slide together, till your skin is too stunned to scream at you

it’s violence but not for anybody else

it’s that godless sex that gets you frowned at, by family and holy men

like all this little fucking conundrum was missing was disapproval

and the bite roils in your stomach now, bile creeping up between cracked teeth

they are vicious and eager and can never sink all the way through

‘cause it’s rotting, that dry little center

and you can’t bring yourself to check just how much progress it’s made

you’ve always looked a little like roadkill, anyway

#spilled ink #poetry #poets on tumblr #body disphoria #aspec #sex and intimacy as anger #anger as expressionism #hey we get to skip the body horror tag this time! however #self harm #it's not the intent but self harm and personalized body horror are not that separate of entities #but you know what i've decided to be proud of myself instead of feeding into vicious negativity cycles about my work

[jenyifer]

Only friends 8/10 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

About a group of friends and the destruction of that friend group in a web of lies betrayals and revenge. The music and sets are beautiful amazing I literally listened to every song they carefully choose for each scene it was genius. Every character was morally grey and complex. Really showed queer stories. I’m a lesbian and there was many many times I could see my own life experiences in the characters. You will find a character to relate to and many of them you will fall in love with for whatever reason. The acting was fantastic ForceBook FirstKhaotung NeoMark deserve all the recognition and awards for their performances. I was surprised at the realism and twists the story took which is very rare for me I have to watch sci-fi horror films at home because I’ll guess the ending and get bored but who would have guessed a Thai Bl would stump me multiple times. I won’t change BostonNick’s story line to me their scenes even with being cut short with what feels like major parts missing is a 10/10. A real journey of the heart and I was hurt and also in love with the conclusion. The series is worth watching again and again for them.

Now…. You’ll notice it isn’t a 10/10… I’m going to get honest with you after the break. So If you don’t want my critique then leave.

I’m going to talk about my grips and how I’d fix them now and why I can’t I’m good conscious forgive these things.

1. Loss of the each episode for a character like the interviews or social media. I felt like these would have given us another angle on those boys. I understand they were trying to edit for the fans but… it is extremely sad. The first 4 episodes are perfection in my opinion.

2. Cheum is terrible lesbian representation. She’s a terrible character. I hate to think this is what queer men think lesbians are. She disappointed me over and over. I’d rather her not be in the story at all.

3. The glossing over of Boston’s torture throughout the series. Mew Cheum and Ray should have apologized to him. I wish Mew and Ray had been better friends in general I felt like I wanted to see the trio trying to incorporate eachother in their lives before the final episode. I wanted to believe at some point they cared for eachother. I wanted them to miss Boston when he was gone and to be guilty for what they fucking did.

4. Top and Mew terrible pairing. Mew is my least favorite character of all time. I have alot to relate to mew on. But he never became a character I could root for. Vindictive and Spiteful. I don’t know if he loved top or not. I don’t foresee that relationship lasting. I liked Top but you could see the bland oatmeal coating they gave him half way through I want the messy angry boy. I did want him to gain happiness but I doubt mew could ever give it to him. I will forever skip their boring scenes I’m glad I no longer have a reason to watch them. To fix this I would have made Mew nosey supportive into Ray and Boston’s lives just him being able to have long term friends would have made his character seem like he was capable of affection. To fix the TopMew scenes? Idk they always felt uneven Top tried so hard Mew was never punished for what he did. Mew became a worse person so maybe reverse that.

5. SandRay I love them I truely relate to Ray so deeply. However the way Ray treated Sand over and over wasn’t right. I hated it. His apologies to sand rang hollow he didn’t back them up. Sand adores Ray and I wish Ray adored Sand just as much but that’s not true. I have hope Ray would mature though.

Over all to fix things I would have given it more episodes there was clearly scenes missing structure that should have been there. I think the problem was the ships had to be so segmented from eachother. Top and Mew could have benefited from more of them interacting with Ray and Cheum. The actual friendship bonds explored would have helped. I also wish they hadn’t swept Bostons revenge P and expose account under the board. Ray having real change in attitude towards sand would have been rewarding as well. I hope there is a season 2 so badly. I have to see BostonNick get their healthy happy ending too.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #thai bl #bl review #Jenny’s watching #bl recommendation #only friends episode 12 #ofts ep12 #ofts meta

[cafedanslanuit]

PART ONE: I’M THROUGH // PART TWO: CORNER OF YOUR HEART

♡   —   pairing: dabi x reader

♡   —   summary: Being a journalist in a corrupt hero society comes with the price of learning the truth. Of course, it would be easier to swallow if you weren't also seeing a villain in secret.

♡   —   tags/warnings: gn reader + no pronouns, reader is a journalist, heroes + villains society, cursing, mentions of communism (???), an overall critique or hero society, mentions of misoginy in media, smoking, surprisingly no angst in this chapter despite the chosen song

♡   —   words: 2k

♡   —   a/n: this was another commission i wrote for my always amazing friend @requindeterre​ <3 (psssssst my commissions are open rn!)

I'm going out again tonight, the first time in the longest time. He holds the door and holds my hand but doesn't feel like you.

— I'm through by Ingrid Michaelson

“Shit, I’m so s―”

The apology died on your lips the moment you recognized the dark mat of hair you just crashed into. Before you could get closer to get a better look at his face, the man had already disappeared. Immediately, you turned on your heel, only to watch a tall frame with hands in his pockets and a torn leather jacket over his shoulders disappear into the crowd.

In the middle of the busy street and completely dumbfounded, you tried to piece together what had just happened. It couldn’t have been him, right? If it had, then he would have recognized you, wouldn’t have walked past you as if you didn’t exist―

On second thought, he might as well have.

A hand gently grabbed your elbow. “Are you okay?”

You turned your head and your eyes fell on the man who was looking down on you with a concerned expression. Giving him your best-practised smile, you nodded.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You expected him to let go of your arm after reassuring him, yet he took the opportunity to loop his arm with yours and keep walking.

It didn’t feel right. Not only did it feel forced, but it was uncomfortable. He was tall, so tall that your shoulders hurt from him holding your arm so high up. And yet, you bit your inner cheek trying your best to stay quiet because he was a good man. A good man with a steady job who, according to your colleague, had never been unkind to his past lovers and found everything you say interesting. A man who didn’t want to control you, a man whose only intentions, he told you this, were to make your life easier, lighter, with the only condition that you share it with him.

Before you realized it, you were already sitting in a fancy restaurant. Of course, he had made a reservation and you could swear you caught a hint of recognition in the hostess's eyes before she guided you to your table. You were lucky, you told yourself. Enjoy the moment, you deserve it. Every long day at work, every bump on the road, now it was the time to relax, to be pampered. You deserved this― your shoulder wasn’t even hurting anymore.

“So, how was work today?”

“Ah, it was okay,” you said, taking a sip of your glass of champagne. “Just the same old stuff.”

“Working with heroes every day seems really interesting.”

“I don’t really work with them, though,” you corrected him. “I write about them. Well, me and my team.”

“Have they ever given you interviews?” he asked, a real curiosity in his eyes.

“A couple of times,” you admitted. “I had an interview with Mirko last month.”

“Ah, well,” he sighed and took his glass to his lips. “But like, have you ever interviewed real heroes?”

You opened to mouth to specify Mirko was a hero, that only last month she had saved a lot of civilians from certain death and that was the reason the magazine you worked for wanted to interview her. She was polite and arrived at your office on time, which was a lot more than you could say from the other heroes that had visited your office before.

However, just as you were about to defend her, the waitress came back with appetizers. The moment was lost with him thanking her with an honest smile and then inviting you to have a bite of― you couldn’t quite remember, but you were quite sure he said it in French.

He took the lead from there, talking about his work but not overplaying it, asking you questions to make sure you were involved, and never dreaming about speaking with his mouth full. If anything, his excellent table manners made you doubt yours more than once and yet he didn’t seem to mind when your fingers hovered the different forks for a couple of seconds too long.

“I’m so sorry if I’m boring you,” he apologized with a low chuckle and you hated how genuine it seemed. “My job isn’t as amazing as yours.”

“I wouldn’t call it amazing,” you shrugged.

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” he smiled. “Working with heroes sounds like fun. You get to write about how many lives they save, how great it is that we have thems to―”

“It isn’t though. Great. Hero society is anything but great.”

It was at that moment when you saw it. The clear shock in his eyes, while well-mannered, let you know he wasn’t expecting such a crude answer.

“What do you mean?”

You paused, looking down at your cheesecake. With your little spoon, you dabbed on it a couple of times, wishing you had just smiled and nodded as you had been doing before.

“Hero society relies on the belief that there are good quirks and bad quirks,” you explained, looking down at your dessert. “But the way they judge them― how do they decide which one is good and which one is bad? Their value is placed upon how helpful they can be to others. How they can be used to serve. And if someone is born with a quirk that isn’t meant to be used in battle, they’re deemed worthless. Worse, if someone has a quirk that can potentially be dangerous, they’re ostracized by this great hero society and left to their own devices to figure out their quirk, control it and try to live in a city that has decided to hate them.”

The man in front of you looked at you with his furrowed eyebrows, having trouble understanding where you were coming from.

“But they choose to be villains,” he argued. “They choose to commit crimes every day when they could get a job somewhere.”

“Where, exactly?” you asked. “Because as far as I know, every job in the city will ask you what your quirk is. And once they learn it’s a “dangerous” one, they won’t give you the opportunity. They will judge them based on the way they’re born. And I’m not even touching on the subject of the discrimination of those who have quirks that make them have animalistic features, which is even worse. So, can you really blame them for becoming villains and wreaking havoc on the city that came to the conclusion there’s something wrong with them?”

“You realize they have killed people, right?” You could see the tension on the man’s shoulders, but you were far too invested to back away now.

“I do. I write about them, remember?” you said, a small smile dancing on your lips. “But haven’t you heard that the child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth?”

In your mind, the flames were blue rather than red.

“Have you ever wondered why there aren’t any centres or institutions to help these kids?” you insisted.

He paused, looking around the restaurant for a couple of seconds before looking back at you. He was uncomfortable and somehow, you were relishing it.

“No. I don’t.”

“Because they don’t care,” you explained, not being able to hold back a chuckle. “Our beloved hero society doesn’t care about people that have quirks that aren’t productive. And that fits perfectly with the way capitalism has made everyone believe your inner worth is linked to your productivity.”

He scrunched up his face, evidently disgusted.

“Oh God, you’re not one of those communists, are you?”

…

You appreciated the man not lying about texting or calling soon when he dropped you off. After making sure you had closed his car door, he muttered a ‘goodnight’ and drove off. Good. At least you were on the same page.

Instead of entering your apartment, you walked up the stairs until you reached the roof. As always, it was empty, which was exactly what you needed after such a disastrous night. The man took your lack of reply as an admission of being a communist instead of your unwillingness to answer a stupid question and he quickly asked for the check. He was kind enough to offer you a ride and, while at any other moment you would have rejected it, you realized he wasn’t dangerous and it would be nice to avoid paying for a taxi on a busy night.

You lit up a cigarette, inhaling deeply, feeling the warm smoke filling your lungs. It left your lips a couple of seconds later, disappearing in thin air. Walking closer to the edge, you observed the city, still pretty much alive even if it was close to midnight. The honks of cars paired with the music from the bar in the front street felt so distant that for a moment you swore you were watching them on television. After all, wasn’t a whole movie based on that premise? That we were all part of a tv show that someone spent their Saturday nights binge-watching?

A part of you hoped they found you interesting.

Almost as if the universe could sense it, the screen of the billboard in front of your building changed, and the name of your magazine appeared in flashing colours.

For the first time, Mirko opens up about the incident in Shibuya! Is marriage in her life plan? How about children? Get to see a new side of our leotard hero in this month’s issue!

Marriage?

You didn’t remember asking her anything about marriage or kids. All of your questions had been about the incident, you were sure of that. She was a hero and she had saved people, who would be dumb enough to ask her personal questions that weren’t asked to her male counterparts?

Also― leotard hero?

In horror, the memory of saying goodbye to Mirko and thanking her for her time as you waited for the elevator came to your mind. She had assured you it was no trouble and that she was excited about this new issue. However, right before she stepped into the elevator, your boss had joined you. She had invited Mirko back to the office to show her around the premises and you had taken the opportunity to say goodbye before going back to your cubicle.

Of course. That little shit.

You took another long drag off your cigarette, feeling a headache building inside you. Were the questions you asked even in the issue? Or had they been scraped off?

Your eyes set again on the billboard. “Fucking bitch,” you grumbled between your teeth.

The magazine ad faded into a red screen, and then a face you were awfully familiar with appeared in the middle of the screen.

If you’ve seen this criminal, please contact our line, 00-3224-74275

Your laugh erupted from your body without a warning. Not being able to help it, your shoulders started shaking as you loudly cackled. Your belly ached as you tried to gain some air, now crossed over your chest as you kept laughing.

The only thing able to suppress your burst of laughter was the pouring rain. Unannounced, heavy rain that didn’t take longer than ten seconds to completely soak your clothes. You straightened up your body, looking up to the clouds with an amused smile. Pushing your hair away from your face, you found yourself being thankful for the awful weather, even if it had ruined your cigarette, which now laid forgotten on the floor.

For the first time in the night, you felt alive.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed on the roof feeling the rain hit your face. Your eyes closed and your clothes drenched, you were truly in your personal paradise, feeling as if it was washing away every bad thought of the day, cleansing you from all the worries and heartache you had been through the past week.

When the first shiver ran across your spine, you decided it was a good moment to step back. You scrunched your hair and clothes, trying your best to get rid of most of the water before walking down the stairs. Even so, you could see a trail of water and the prints of your shoes following you, which you decided to ignore, hoping no one would catch you. Your neighbours had a bad reputation for snitching up on people.

To your surprise, when you reached your apartment, the door was already open.

#dabi x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabi x you #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi imagine #touya todoroki x you #todoroki touya x you

[navree]

Why WHY is ao3 plagued with Aemond/Lucerys fanfics? Most of them are set after he loses his eye wth. (also, the lack of pro team Green fanfics 💀 I wanna cry)

I can, like, maybe intellectually understand the appeal of Lucemond, they can idk bond over being second sons and also there's some good tension to explore if you're good at it but honestly a) the fics I've seen aren't very good at it and b) that's kinda it.

A lot of them are predicated on Aemond somehow moving on from the fact that he was attacked for no reason and that Luke escalated by attempting to kill him (cuz that's what swinging a knife in someone's face is, even if you're, like, eight you should know that) and then not doing anything about it. Not apologizing, not telling his mom to back off when she wanted Aemond tortured, not trying any attempt to make amends or atone or anything like that. And that's not something Aemond is getting over, it's a huge injustice done to him and he's constantly angry about it (no seriously, the way he goes from zero to a hundred with "give me your eye or I will take it bastard!" makes it clear he's repressing a lot of rage and sometimes it clearly explodes outward and it takes effort to restrain it, based on Ewan's face when Baratheon stops him).

I see a lot of these fics also be predicated on Luke feeling bad about what happened and......he doesn't. He doesn't seem to have ever felt any guilt or remorse for what he did to Aemond, and that doesn't seem like it would ever change even if he had lived. It feels fundamentally irreconcilable, that an attacker and that attacker's victim would be able to look past something the victim is still hurt by and that the attacker feels no regret over. Like, ship and let ship, if that's your cup of tea go for it, but I think it exists because Ewan's hot and people want him in an mlm pairing but aren't bold enough to do anything beyond mealy mouthed "Aemond gets over what happened and he and Luke fall in love and also maybe Aemond "mommy's little war criminal" Targaryen switches side against his mother".

(Like, idk do something with the fact that Aemond and Daemon had moments of looking vaguely into each other in ep 8 and blah blah self recognition through the other, or go full Targaryen and dive into the goldmine of complexity that is the relationship between Aemond and Aegon).

The lack of pro-Greens fics is so frustrating, I need more from them as a family unit, all those varied emotions and that ultimate and overarching love for each other that never fades, especially as the Dance progresses.

#personal #answered #anonymous #anti lucemond #i mean not really i don't care that much about it #but i'm being negative so i'll tag just to be safe #it's not my thing and it never will be #not to mention lucerys is just nowhere near developed enough to be an interesting character #let alone part of an interesting pairing #it's just basically self insert but with a canon character because we know nothing about him #because the blacks are atrociously underdeveloped excluding rhaenyra and daemon