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#why am I so unhappy
maryreadings · 8 months
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why am i just on the verge of tears
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gottahaveguts · 1 year
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I’m losing fucking motivation again...
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vexedhighness · 2 years
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i want to die
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new-ronantics · 2 years
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i don’t think people realize that at this point it’s much more important for queer stories to be shown in a positive light than it is to portray them “realistically”.
(there’s also an issue in the idea that queer characters/couples not suffering 24/7 is inherently unrealistic, but that’s another can of worms.)
there are plenty of “realistic” queer love stories out there. we get it. most queer people lead miserable lives, never get happy endings, and are generally shunned from society, right? we know this. we see it all the time. we experience it. i’d like to think that we’ve come far enough to say that representation is no longer just about queer people being included—it’s also about depicting them in a way that’s somehow meaningful, fulfilling, and—dare i say—hopeful.
is will’s self-hatred, shame, and overall reluctance to come out to anyone a realistic portrayal of the experience of being a closeted gay kid in the 80s? yes, of course it is. nobody thinks it isn’t. the problem is that, ultimately, this is a TV show with a narrative. it’s supposed to tell a story, and a good one at that.
my question is this: what does will having unrequited feelings for his (supposedly) straight best friend do for the narrative? what does it do to develop any characters involved? the answer is nothing. it does absolutely nothing. it’s just another unnecessary tragic ending for a queer character who’s already suffered beyond belief. will’s arc could have easily been separate from mike’s; it could have been all about self-acceptance and gaining confidence in his identity, but this is very pointedly the route they didn’t choose, and that is why queer people are upset by the path vol 2 went down.
to watch a gay kid’s feelings be used as a prop to push the main heterosexual couple back together is humiliating. to see a lesbian watch as her crush kisses her shock-factor boyfriend is humiliating. it’s like it’s being rubbed in our faces—hey, look, people like you will never be happy! haha!
that’s not the representation we need anymore. it’s not impactful or satisfying or new, it’s just depressing. realism only matters so much in a sci-fi horror/drama, and i’ve honestly never seen so many people bitch and moan about realism until the conversation was about queer characters finding happiness.
so no, queer people are not just sad because their ship didn’t become canon. that is not what this is about. pay more attention, please.
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anglerflsh · 7 months
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do you ever just forget that being nonbinary is an option I was agonising over my gender for a tad because I didn't want either option and then I remember ah right. You can do that free of charge.
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halogalopaghost · 2 months
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#IM SO STRESSED IM SO STRESSED#I feel like I'm not handling ANYTHING well rn#so many people have symptoms that are WAAAAAAY fucking worse and they're like. working full time jobs and being a parent and shit and#I'm like waaah oh no I have body aches and chronic fatigue looks like I'll have to be unemployed and never do anything ever 💀#how am I gonna live?? like. my parents are taking care of me and I'm so fucking glad but#SOMEDAY THEY WONT BE AROUND and that stresses me out so bad#I'm 25 years old and I NEED my mom every day if not physically then emotionally because I'm a little bitch baby that can't do anything for#herself. im having a hard time feeding myself I'm having a hard time keeping my living space clean#I'm not taking care of anything except the dogs sometimes and my lizard and she's not getting as much attention as she used to#I need a job and I need to be able to suck it up and DO THINGS but I feel like I'm not the person u was anymore#I was strong and I could push thru things and make myself do things and now I can't???? I just lay on the fucking couch!! and feel bad abtit#is it the tism. is it the ADHD. what about the chronic depression. how bout the fibromyalgia?#and the thing is that ALL OF THOSE THINGS ARE MILD#I don't have severe pain (yet).#I just can't handle it I don't WANT to handle it#so. shoutout to my mom I guess because if it wasn't for her I simply wouldn't be alive#I feel like I've never been happy!! why can't I just be content and be happy!!!!#I have no fucking reason to be unhappy!!!!!!
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winepresswrath · 9 months
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I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE
I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).
but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.
Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.
And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:
Heaven has Institutional Problems
Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.
Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.
We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.
Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.
#good omens spoilers#good omens season two spoilers#idk it makes me sad that i didn't like the humans very much this season because i think ideally they're central to this whole how to be#a person question i also hope we get to see more of hell next season because i do think they're stuck in basically the same place#with a different aesthetic! and the stick being#thrown into a torture pit instead of thrown into hell#or like. mindwiped and locked in an office for all eternity#gabriel broke my heart which is embarrassing but when he goes from not even understanding what music is to experiencing#the simple pleasure of sharing a song with someone for the very first time and almost immediately hits repeat for eternity... baby. baby bo#i would also like more crowley! this was very much the season of aziraphale#which is fine but i missed him yelling questions at god and the bits where it seemed he really wanted aziraphale's opinion instead of just#wanting aziraphale to develop better opinions#next season had better be crowley wrestles with the universe i am telling you!!!#remember three months ago when i was like eh... another good omens season#i bet it'll be cute but i'm content with my book#i don't go here i said strapping on my clown shoes#seriously though i do think crowley is scared to admit to wanting to be good both because god rejected him and he doesn't want#to be a sucker for her (he is only interested in being a sucker for aziraphale)#and like. chase after something he's barred from and has already been told isn't for him.#and that's why it's so hard for him to admit even to himself that he too would be unhappy ditching earth#in ways that parallel aziraphale's unwillingness to let go of heaven as a source of moral authority and goodness#but the way aziraphale goes oh no! i cannot trust my own judgement and desires. They are suspect!#my judgement is that crowley is good and also funny and sexy. my desires are for his company and also his body#therefore the source of these desires is also maybe bad. i mean he's a demon. he's got to be bad#right??? but no. but i saw him do a good thing. but maybe i didn't? I should probably take a stance on this.#and he makes this crowley's problem until the apocalypse but then the second he gets the chance to cram crowley and his feelings for him#back in a heaven approved box he jumps at it in a way that requires just being WILDLY insensitive and dismissive of crowley's feelings#he's not just being a dick about their relationship he is being a dick about crowley as a person. and he should know better but is choosing#not to because he wants the easy out so badly. anyway i love him he was my favourite character all season no notes#good omens
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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years
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knock me out, take me down || katsuki b.
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pairing: boxer!bakugou katsuki x reader
word count: 8.6k
mentions: modern au where bkg is an underground boxer, alcohol use, female bamf reader, aged up chars ofc, descriptions of fighting, suggestive at one part you’ll know it when you read it lol
a/n: this is a repost bc i'd deleted the og post one night when i was nitpicking it. i hadn't been too happy with the writing it was a moment of weakness. but! i've revised it and made some minor edits so here it is again! might do a part 2 if y'all want but idk
✧˖° and there you stood in the fighting ring, little civilian you, staring down the underground’s top boxer—an intimidating man by the name ‘dynamight’ with a glare that pierced right through you—as the crowd roared in excitement for the next match with him. your match.
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Spending your Saturday night chasing after your near blackout-drunk friends was honestly not what you’d imagined you’d be doing.
At first you’d all planned to meet up at a nice restaurant-slash-bar in the heart of Musutafu for dinner and some catching up. It was relaxing after a hard week at work and seeing the familiar faces of your friends made everything feel significantly better. Lots of hugs and kisses were exchanged before you all split a few meals and went through a couple of the margaritas on the back of the menu to start the night off. You’d already promised yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself get too drunk, so you only had a few drinks to get a nice buzz going, though you couldn’t say the same for your friends. The plan was to then head over to a karaoke bar down the block for a few hours of off-key singing before turning in for the rather satisfying night.
Only, one of your friends had discovered that the restaurant had an unlimited shot option for birthday groups with a bill over a certain amount of yen. You’d already satisfied the yen requirement, so your friend had the bright idea to pretend it was her birthday just to get onto that deal. Admittedly, you already knew beforehand that both your friends could get pretty lackadaisical when it came to monitoring their alcohol consumption. You kept a close eye on them, but you couldn’t really find it in you to cut them off early when they looked like they were having so much fun. You knew they needed the stress relief and it was fun watching them giggle to themselves as they got increasingly drunker.
You didn’t really drink too much in comparison, knowing that you would have to be the responsible one for the night if you all wanted to get home in one piece. You limited yourself to a couple and then settled on slowly drinking a tall glass of cold water as your friends tossed back shot after shot. Eventually, though, after two drinking games and a small army of glasses crowding the table, you called for the bill and cut your friends off, amusedly watching as they slumped over the table and mumbled tiredly to each other.
You forced both of them to drink a few glasses of water and waited for them to get a bit sober before you decided it was time to leave. It was certainly a task getting them to stand up from the table and stumble out the restaurant door, but you managed. It was pretty dark outside, with it being so late in the evening, and the air was slightly chilly. You busied yourself with zipping up your friends’ jackets so they wouldn’t get too cold, smiling slightly when they mumbled drunken ‘I love you’s to you. You kept an eye on them as you pulled out your phone with the intention to call a cab—there was no way you’d be able to take them to the karaoke bar with how sloshed they were—when one of your friends suddenly let out a yell.
“What?! What is it?” you worriedly rushed out as you whipped your head around to look at her leaning heavily against the brick wall of the ice cream shop next to the restaurant. She was staring with wide eyes down at her phone, and you wondered how she was able to make anything out on the screen with how bright it was.
“Oh my god!!” she just shrieked. She looked around wildly until her eyes latched onto the street sign on the corner of the block. She squinted at it, then took a shaky step towards it that had you shuffling closer to her, just in case. “We gotta— We gotta go!!”
“Go where?” your other friend mumbled from their position sitting on the sidewalk. They were swaying back and forth slightly, and you eyed them to make sure they weren’t getting nauseous or anything. “‘M tired.”
“Wuh— The— The fuckin’”—your friend waved her phone around—“The fuckin’ guy, uh, Dyna— Dynamight guy. He’s fightin’ tonight!!”
“The who?” you asked confusedly, then raised your eyebrows when your other friend let out a loud gasp and promptly hoisted themself up from the concrete ground.
“T’night?!” they nearly yelled as well, stumbling around shakily on their feet before they latched onto your friend still holding her phone. They tried peering down at her phone, but only ended up squinting at it. “Where?!”
“T— Tuh— Two uhh, two blocks, umm that—no, um—that way”—she spun around in a little circle, then pointed an unsteady finger in a direction down the street—“We— we have t’go!!”
“We gots— we gotta go, right now,” your other friend eloquently agreed with a serious look on their face. You watched them both warily, lowering your own phone slightly. What the fuck were they talking about?
“Uh, guys,” you started, “I really think I should get you both hom—” But before you could finish your sentence, your friends immediately fucking bolted down the street, running as fast as their sailor’s legs would let them. You gaped at them for a split second and watched them yell at each other as they stumbled away from you. Then you ran after them, shouting at them to stop before they got seriously hurt.
They didn’t listen to you at all, using each other for balance as they made a few shaky turns and went down a few dark alleys. It wasn’t hard to catch up to them and keep pace, though it was certainly difficult to get them to listen to you.
“Guys, come on!” you said exasperatedly, blindly following them around until they stopped at some door at the side of a large building. Your friend knocked on it and shuffled around in her purse until she pulled out a few crumpled notes. You eyed the door when a slot opened in it and your friend shoved the money through. “What are we even doing here?”
“Y’never… y’never heard of Dyna— Dynamight?” your other friend asked you, slightly stumbling over their words still. When you shook your head, they gasped. “Never?! He’s a— he’s a box’r. Super… super strong.” They flexed their arms to demonstrate their point.
“And hot,” your friend added, then smiled widely when the door opened. She grabbed at your wrist and tugged you through the door with her, your other friend following close behind as you’d grabbed onto their wrist in return. “He’s the— the best underground fighter out there right… right now.” It was pretty dark inside, and you staggered after your friend who looked like she knew the area pretty well, despite her occasional stumble. She led the two of you down a hall, some stairs, and another hall. Already you could hear what sounded like loud yelling and chanting coming from a door a small distance away.
Your friend didn’t linger or hesitate at all, and before you knew what was happening, she had pushed the door open and dragged you into a rather large crowd in what looked like an underground arena. You could only blink in astonishment at the size of the place, fluorescent lights shining brightly from the ceiling that was such a large contrast from the darkness of the hallways you’d wandered through to get here. There was the smell of sweat in the air that came with such a large crowd jammed into a room and you wrinkled your nose a bit as you stared around curiously at the sea of people yelling and cheering.
Though, what really caught your attention was the giant boxing ring in the center of the arena that was elevated in the air. Or rather, it was the two men on top of it that did. One of them was a rather large man with a sharp, beak-like nose and brown hair, his chest bare as he threw powerful punch after punch. You were fascinated by the sheer size of his build, wondering how long it took him to get to that level of pure strength. You eyed the scowl on his face for a moment, then shifted your gaze to the other man.
He was a bit smaller than the guy he was fighting, though certainly just as strong-looking. Crimson eyes sharply focused on his opponent, ash-blond hair bouncing around as he swiftly ducked and weaved. He was definitely attractive, you could admit that, with a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut you with just the slightest touch and muscles that rippled along his shoulders and arms. You tried not to stare too hard at his bare torso, instead focusing on his hands that were wrapped with white bandages slightly stained in red. Your gaze lingered on the devilish smirk on his face, and you soon noticed that he was slowly cornering his opponent.
“Comin’ through!” your friend suddenly yelled as she pushed through people to get closer to the metal gate surrounding the ring. You were snapped away from your staring as you looked around at all the people she was shoving. “Move aside!!” You cringed and apologized hastily to the people around you, ducking your head down in slight embarrassment. Eventually, your friend managed to tug you both close enough to the gate that there were only a few rows of people separating you from it. You had to crane your neck a little to watch the match on it, though you found that you didn’t mind. All the loud yelling was getting a bit annoying though.
Your other friend leaned close to you, their body weight nearly sinking against your own. You could still smell the alcohol on their breath. “Thas him”—they pointed to the ash-blond—“Dynamight. The man.”
“Isn’t he dreamy,” your friend added, clasping her hands together. “He’s never… never lost a match.”
You let out a low whistle, your eyes drifting back to watch Dynamight. “He’s that good? Damn.”
Your friend nodded sagely. “Oh ye”—she turned to give you a surprisingly calculating look for her not-sober state—“though…. Though I think y’could take ‘im.” Her casual statement felt like a punch to the gut and you wheezed.
“Me?!” you choked out, then let out a pssht. “Girl, you know I’d get obliterated.” She only shrugged at you, though you gave her a look and gestured pointedly at the match. Dynamight was using the ropes along the perimeter of the ring to propel his body towards his opponent, delivering a devastating blow to the chest that sent the beak-nosed man crashing to the floor. It felt like the entire room had shaken from the impact. You gave her another look.
“I bee… I believe in ya,” your other friend said cheerfully, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You rolled your eyes at them, then turned back to look at the match. By now, a lot of people were starting to chant Dynamight’s name as he geared up for what seemed to be his final move.
“OOOH!!!” your friend squealed loudly, jumping around in her spot. “I love this part!!”
“Howit-zer!! Im-pact!!” your other friend cheered, and you noticed a lot of people were chanting it as well, a chorus that echoed around the stuffy room. You looked on curiously as Dynamight grinned in a way that sent a shiver scuttling down your spine. His opponent was trying to pick himself off the floor from the last blow, but Dynamight didn’t give him the time to recover. He launched himself at one of the large poles standing at the corners of the rectangular-shaped ring, using his momentum and his powerful legs to push himself off of it and up into the air. There was a moment where he seemed to nearly float above the ring, the lights from above casting his smirking face in shadows. The shouting got louder as Dynamight twisted in the air and promptly slammed down on the upper back of his opponent, sending him crashing back down to the floor, out cold.
“K.O!” the referee shouted as he blew his whistle. The arena practically erupted in loud cheers, enough that your ears rang slightly from the volume. Your friends whooped and jumped up and down, watching as Dynamight grinned sharply and threw a victorious fist in the air.
“Is that even legal?!” you shouted at your friends, wondering if that was a move that could be done in boxing. You didn’t think so, but well, it was an underground ring for a reason, you guessed.
“Who cares!!” they both shouted back, too wrapped up in the high that came after watching a match.
“Give it up for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight everybody!!” a yellow-haired announcer yelled out gleefully through a wireless microphone as he clambered onto the ring to stand next to Dynamight. The crowd exploded in cheers again, and you watched as Dynamight ran a hand across his forehead and through his hair, his expression shifting into an impassive look. A few other people silently moved in the background to help get the unconscious beak-nosed man out of the arena and into medical care.
“Is that really his title?” you wheezed out quietly to your other friend, who gave a little giggle and nodded. What possessed him to think that was a good decision?
“Yeah, is'so lame,” they whispered. You bit back a smile and turned your attention back to the announcer once the cheering had died down once more.
“Another match finished in record time, eh? As expected for our Dynamight!” The announcer turned towards the ash-blond, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Anything you wanna say to your adoring fans, Mr. Murder God?”
Dynamight let out a scoff and leaned in closer to the microphone the announcer was holding up to his face. “I always win,” he rasped lowly, then moved back so he could cross his arms across his sweaty-looking chest. You tried not to stare too hard at his huge fucking pectorals. Seriously, what the hell kind of routine did he do to make them look like that?! You were kind of jealous.
“You sure do!” the announcer replied cheerfully. He turned to look out at the crowd, a mischievous look on his face as he pointed his thumb towards Dynamight. “I don’t think there’s anyone who can beat him. A shame, really.”
At that, a bunch of people started yelling out in the crowd. You looked around curiously as some of them—particularly the buffer-looking men—jeered that they could take Dynamight on, piece of cake. The announcer looked delighted at the responses and as for the ash-blond next to him… well…
“I could take ya fuckers down in my sleep!” Dynamight sneered back at the crowd, lifting one of his hands so he could give them a rude thumbs down. Your other friend snickered from beside you, and you turned to look at them questioningly.
“Whenev’r the matches for th’night finish early they… they always choose someone from the crowd to go up against hottie up there,” they explained to you and you let out an ohhh in understanding. “S’always entertaining, though they gotta— gotta sign a— a thingy. A uh, wustheword—”
“A waiver?” you supplied helpfully and they nodded rapidly.
“Yeah, that.”
“I’m guessing Dynamight always wins, huh?” you asked as you looked up at the ring to see Dynamight continuing to sneer down at the crowd. Your other friend gave you a “yep” and you both quieted down once the announcer started calling out to get everyone’s attention again. Though, once it’d gotten only slightly quieter, a loud voice started shouting out from next to you. A rather familiar, loud voice.
“AYO, my friend could take this bitch down easy-peasy!!” your friend yelled and you whipped your head so fast towards her that you swore your neck had cracked with the motion. She was waving her hands in the air and jumping up and down to get the announcer’s attention. To your horror, she succeeded and the announcer turned to look at her with a curious expression on his face. Your gut nearly bottomed out.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” you hissed out frantically as you grabbed her arm and forced her to stop moving so you could tug her out of view. She ignored you, and with strength that you hadn’t expected from her drunk ass, she pulled you towards her and used her free hand to point right at you. Your ears burned from the attention and you promptly shut your mouth once you noticed people were staring at the two of you. It was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop—a feat in itself considering how large the room was.
“My friend!! Can take ‘im, anyday!!” your friend said with only a slight slur to her words. You tried to tug yourself out of her hold, but fuck, her grip was unrelenting. “I— I swear on it.”
“Yeah?” The announcer grinned and looked at Dynamight with a raised brow. Your gaze followed his and you nearly pissed yourself when you saw Dynamight’s crimson eyes were nailed right onto you. Oh fuck, this wasn’t good. It felt like he was roasting you alive with his stare. “Whaddya think dude? Think you can take her?”
Dynamight only scoffed and looked away from you. You were so fucked.
“Well, what’s your name, cutie?” the announcer asked, and it took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. Even if you wanted to answer him—which you didn’t—you couldn’t get your mouth to work at the moment. You felt like you were going to throw up and you didn’t even drink a lot earlier.
“I don’t—” you started in a strained voice only to have your friend cut you off to shout your name for you. You gave her a glare, your shoulders rising up to your ears as the announcer repeated your name and gestured out to the crowd wildly.
“What do we think, folks?!” he roared out and you could already hear people starting to shout and cheer again, the frenzy energy returning to the arena at the prospect of another fight. “Is this a match made in heaven?! Or hell?!!!”
“Hea-ven! Hea-ven! Hea-ven!” they chanted back and you felt the color drain from your face even as your friends eagerly shook you around and yelled your name excitedly in your ears.
“Let’s give it up for our new challenger everybody!! Get on up here girl!!!”
People started chanting your name, hands started pushing and tugging at you to get you closer to the gate. You tried to protest, but your voice was swallowed up in the crowd and you realized—with so many people expectantly looking at you—that there simply was no way for you to squirm your way out of this. You could feel the weight of their pressure fall onto your shoulders and you didn’t like it one bit.
“Hey there!” a voice suddenly caught your attention and you realized you were standing right by the metal gate. You looked up to see a pink-haired woman grinning at you from the other side of it. “Name’s Ashido Mina! I’mma need you to sign a few things before the match. Just jump right over”—she waved a manicured hand at the gate—“and follow me!”
You nodded stiffly at her and did as told, feeling like your movements were nearly robotic. You had half a mind to just book it to the exit, but you couldn’t—not with how crowded the arena was. And you were sure someone would stop you. It felt like there was a whole swarm of butterflies frenziedly moving around in your stomach. Was there anything you could do to get out of this? You glanced back at your friends, who had followed you to the gate and were clinging onto the metal bars on the opposite side as they grinned and gave you sloppy thumbs ups.
“You got this, girl!!” they both cheered, and the way they were fucking looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever met made you just want to crawl into a hole and wither away. Damn it.
You squared your shoulders and finally turned to follow Ashido around the ring. Only, it seemed like she had gotten impatient waiting for you to move, so she grabbed onto your arm and started tugging you in a direction. You stumbled slightly after her, not knowing what the fuck was going on as she started yapping rapidly into your ear. You could barely hear her over the cheering of the crowd.
“Oooh, this is so exciting!!” she nearly squealed. “It’s been ages since Dynamight has gone up against a pretty lady like yourself!!” Her words made something in your stomach sink in trepidation, and she looked at you with a large grin that was borderline mischievous.
“Ages?” You were ashamed to admit that your voice cracked on the word. You hoped she hadn’t noticed. You cleared your throat awkwardly.
“Yeah!! Normally it’s all those dumb buff guys who try to pick a fight, y’know?” She pointed a hand not-so-discreetly at some of the men who were close to the gate. They looked disappointed, though some were fixing you with sneers. You looked away, a frown tugging at your lips. It was so fucking obvious they thought you wouldn’t last a second in the ring and it kind of… made you a bit pissed. Were they underestimating you?
Ashido let out a pfft that drew your attention back to her, and you noticed she was rolling her eyes. “Ignore them. They’re all steroid junkies and it shows. They never learn no matter how many times Dynamight mops the floors with their asses.” She mumbled something about testosterone under her breath that got you to crack a small smile.
Ashido led you to a wooden bench near the opposite side of the ring that had a few bags piled on and around it. She shuffled around in one of them until she pulled out a manila folder and a glittery pen. She then handed them to you.
“Just sign these and you’re good to go!” she said cheerfully. You eyed the folder in your hands, then opened it to see a few leaves of paper.
“Is this really all I have to do?” you asked a bit faintly. You sat down heavily on an empty space on the bench and started pulling out the papers. They were waivers and medical documents detailing what would happen after the match in case you got severely hurt. You doubted it would get to that point, but it didn’t stop you from wondering if your insurance would cover it.
Ashido gave you a smirk. “This is an underground ring, babe, anything goes.”
“Uh huh,” you replied eloquently. You gripped the pen tightly in your hand as you stared down at the documents. God, were you really about to do this right now? Were you really about to let an entire arena pressure you into fighting their literal top fighter?? The one who looked like he could crush you between two of his fingers alone?! You swallowed heavily. It didn’t help that you thought he was attractive, too. If anything, it made you even more nervous.
“Hey”—a soft hand rested on your shoulder and you looked up to see Ashido giving you a sympathetic smile—“you know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, right? We can always get someone else.”
You stared at her for a moment, biting on your bottom lip in thought. You weren’t obligated to fight this guy or anything. And yet… You knew there were just so many people who expected you to. You glanced back in the direction your friends were in and in doing so, your eyes caught onto the different expressions people in the crowd were wearing. Excited, encouraging, exhilarated…. But also arrogant, leering, and disbelieving. It made you tense your jaw and look back down at the papers before you started roughly penning in your signature in the required places.
“Thanks, but it’s okay,” you told Ashido as you scribbled away. You forced your nerves down, locking them up in a tight little box deep within yourself. “It’s just a spar anyways. Can’t be that bad.”
Ashido let out a little giggle that made you look up at her briefly. “You haven’t been here too often, have you?”
“Was it that obvious?” You gave her a weak smile. She smiled back and nodded.
“Yeah, haha, everyone here knows how these matches go by now. Don’t worry though”—she flapped a hand at you—“it’s not as extensive as his other matches since it’s with a civilian, so you’ll only be up there for like, two minutes and that’s it!”
“Cool”—you nodded and shoved the papers back in the folder so you could hand it back to her—“Do you think he’ll go easy on me?” You tried not to sound too hopeful.
“Pfft, no!” Ashido let out a loud laugh and gave you a pat on the head before taking the folder from you. “Dynamight doesn’t go easy on anybody. It shows how seriously he takes his matches, no matter who fights him.” She then leaned in closer to you, lowering her voice in a conspiring manner. “Though, you didn’t hear this from me, but he always starts his matches with a right hook.” She gave you a wink and leaned back so she could shove the folder back into the bag it came from.
“Good to know.” You gave her a smile—albeit a shaky one—and stood up from the bench. It seemed the motion had caught the attention of the announcer too, for he suddenly appeared at the edge of the ring, leaning against the rope as he peered down at you.
“Hey there cutie”—he gave you a little wink—“I’m Kaminari Denki, though you can call me anything you want~”
“Shut up Denki”—Ashido rolled her eyes—“This isn’t the time for your lame flirting.”
“Hey it’s not lame!” Kaminari protested, crossing his arms over the topmost rope. “It’s effective.”
Ashido turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You blinked at her then shook your head a little. “It’s not effective.”
She looked back at Denki and made a wide gesture. “See?”
“Whatever”—Kaminari pouted and waved a hand at you to grab your attention—“You ready to go? Mr. Murder God over there’s waiting for you.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, and you followed the direction to see Dynamight in the far right corner of the ring. The first thing you noticed were his crimson eyes—eyes that were trained sharply on you. It made you wonder just how long he’d been watching you for, assessing his next opponent. A rather buff-looking red-haired man was standing next to Dynamight in the ring, talking about something to him. Though, you didn’t think Dynamight was paying all too much attention with the way he was watching you. He was leaning against the pole sitting at the corner, one of his arms stretched over the ropes that extended from it as he drank from a black water bottle. There was a white towel around his neck that he also used to wipe some of the sweat from his face. Your jaw tensed slightly and you looked back at Kaminari.
“I guess so.” You looked down at your outfit. To say you hadn’t expected to be in a fighting match tonight was an understatement. You certainly hadn’t dressed for it. A nice blouse and a pair of jeans that made your legs look great decorated your person. You lifted your right leg up and kicked out a bit to test the leniency of your jeans. Well, it would definitely make moving around a bit tougher, but you could handle it. After all, you did just have to chase your drunk friends around. And you managed pretty well. “Wish I wasn’t dressed like this, though.”
“Eh, it’s fine”—Kaminari shrugged—“As long as you can move around, you’re good.”
Something tapped you on the shoulder and you turned around to see Ashido standing close to you with a roll of white bandages in her hands. “Let me wrap your hands up for you! Don’t want those pretty things to get messy, y’know?”
“Somehow I doubt they will.” You didn’t think you’d be able to land a single blow on Dynamight, honestly. Or maybe you were overestimating things. You sighed and held your right hand out to her. She made quick work out of wrapping it, moving from your wrist all the way to the first knuckles of your fingers. She neatly tucked the ends in and then did the same to your other hand. You admired her work. It made you feel kind of badass.
“Alright! You’re good to go!” She gave you a nod and a pat on the shoulder. You flexed your fingers a bit, then looked up and gave her a nod of your own accompanied by a small “thanks.”
“Hell yeah! Let’s get this show on the road!” Kaminari cheered. He bent down and extended a hand to help you climb up onto the ring. You grabbed it and allowed him to support most of your weight as you jumped up to sling a foot on top of the ring’s platform. It was pretty high up, so you scrambled for a bit until you managed to slide your body under the lowermost part of the roped perimeter. Kaminari helped you to your feet and you found yourself awkwardly shuffling around as the cheering of the crowd escalated in anticipation.
Oh boy, you thought to yourself as you looked around at the mix of eager and judgmental faces around you. This is really happening.
Kaminari called out your name and you looked over to see him gesturing to you to walk over to the center of the ring, where he and Dynamight were waiting. You noticed the red-haired man that’d been talking to Dynamight was making his way off of the platform. Though, before he ducked under the ropes, he caught your eye and gave you a bright grin with a thumbs up. It made you crack a small smile, though that didn’t last too long. You swallowed heavily and shuffled over until you were standing in front of Dynamight, separated by only a few feet of distance.
And man, was he intimidating.
Being so close to him allowed you to see just how much of a height difference there was between the two of you. His face was impassive and rather stoic as he stared down his nose at you and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Spiky ash-blond hair was ruffled over his face, and you wondered if the ends were sharp enough to poke your eye out. Not only was he aggravatingly taller than you, but he was also broader: the width of his shoulders alone were easily double your own. He was all coiled muscle and unreadable expressions and you’d never felt so fucking tiny before in your life.
“Right, you know the drill,” Kaminari spoke to the two of you without using his microphone. “Two minutes on the clock.” You glanced over at Dynamight to see he was wearing a fresh set of bandages around his hands instead of the stained ones he had on before. It was only slightly comforting. “You’re out if you get K.O.ed or tap out. And dude”—he looked over at Dynamight with an almost pleading look—“try not to mess up her face.”
“What the fuck is that supposed—“ you started indignantly as your eyes darted over to Kaminari, only to get abruptly cut off by a tch.
“No promises,” Dynamight scoffed, then cracked his neck in a swift motion that you blinked at. The deep rasp of his voice made a shiver scuttle down your spine. You tensed your jaw and clenched your hands into fists. You needed to focus now. There was no playing around here. You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm down the remnants of your nerves. You could do this.
Kaminari made a shooing motion with his hands that you realized was an indication for you and Dynamight to step a few feet farther from each other. Once you both got into your positions, a few meters away from each other, Kaminari switched on his microphone and started announcing the match.
“Aaaaalright folks! The final fight for the night! The moment you’ve all been waiting for!” he yelled out as he walked over to the edge of the ring. You bit at the inside of your cheek and relaxed your form, noticing that Dynamight had gotten into a fighting stance himself. “Our reigning champion Dynamight against this pretty lady over here! Who will be the victor?! Who will be the loser?! Place your bets everybody!”
If you listened close enough, you could almost hear your two friends loudly cheering for you. It made your lips twitch slightly.
Kaminari slipped through the ropes along the ring so that he could jump onto the floor, leaving you and Dynamight alone on the platform. “Two minutes are all they get! And we start in 3”—you bent your knees slightly—“2”—Dynamight’s eyes narrowed—“1! Start!”
Immediately, Dynamight lunged towards you with a powerful right hook, aiming directly for your face. You had just enough time to duck out of the way to the left, eyes wide with the adrenaline that suddenly pulsed through your brain and body. His eyes darted to the side to follow your motion before he swiftly changed directions and threw a harsh left jab. You dodged it again, your movements light. He was certainly fast, keeping you on your toes, but you were faster.
Part of you wished—as you ducked and weaved around blow after blow—that you’d watched more of his matches to get an idea of how he fought. You only had that snippet from the previous match to base your assumptions on. It was clear, though, that he had reflexes to match an Olympic athlete’s. You could tell he was putting his all into every single one of his hits—not only in terms of raw strength, but also in terms of how calculated he made them. Not one of them was out of place. He really wasn’t messing around. Perspiration beaded on your forehead at the thought of how much one of them would hurt if it came into contact with any part of your body.
You couldn’t tell how much time had gone by. You were stuck in this seemingly perpetual dance with Dynamight on the offensive and you on the defensive. You bent backwards into a flip to dodge another one of his uppercuts, then immediately slid to your right to avoid another fast jab from him. You had gotten into the groove of constant movement, since he was trying to catch you off guard after every one of your dodges. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears and the only thing you focused on was the man in front of you. Everything else, everyone else, blurred out into the background.
Dynamight snarled when you dodged another one of his lower attacks. It was obvious he was getting frustrated with the way you just kept moving swiftly out of the way. You were starting to read him a bit easier now that you’d both been fighting for a bit, though there were definitely instances where you dodged a move from him by the skin of your teeth. He glared and bared his teeth at you, the watermelon pink of his gums peeking from under his upper lip. If looks could kill, you would’ve been dead a long time ago.
“Y’can’t keep dodging forever!” he growled, throwing another punch at you before ducking low on the floor to sweep at your legs. “Fuckin’ fight me properly!” You simply bent backwards into a flip again, though a quick glance behind you let you know he was slowly cornering you by the ropes of the ring—just like he’d done with the last match. That was fine, you could deal with that.
“No thank you!” you replied breathlessly, heart palpitating as you crouched below a reverse punch and let your body slide to the left. Did he want you to throw your feeble punches at him? Well… you could if you really wanted. You suspected a match with hardly much retaliation on one end would get boring after a while. And honestly, not to toot your own horn or anything, but the match would pretty much be over if you did decide to go on the offensive. Well… maybe a little…
Toot toot!
But really, you couldn’t do that to the arena’s top fighter. You didn’t want to—especially considering what that would mean for you afterwards: additional attention, fame, and the possibility of his fans hating your guts for the rest of your life. Maybe you were overexaggerating, but you knew it wouldn’t be too far-fetched. That wasn’t what you wanted for your little life.
Though, if he really wanted you to do something, you supposed you could.
You waited for the opportune moment—though, considering he was getting more aggressive with his punches, it didn’t take that long—where he threw a strong forward jab at you. It wasn’t all too hard to twist your body to the right to avoid it, though this time instead of darting away, you reached out and tugged his wrist forward and down. His force and momentum should’ve been enough to cause him to fall flat on his face, but he only stumbled a few steps forward. It was enough. You took the chance to lunge towards his back in a football tackle, slamming your shoulder as hard as you could into him as you used your feet to push yourself off the floor.
Dynamight made an indignant sound as he went down. You felt the impact in your legs as you both crashed to the cool ground, and you found yourself scrambling into a sitting position on his back to hold him steady. His skin was a bit slippery from his sweat, and you were able to feel how hot he was temperature-wise with how close you were to him. You braced your right arm across his upper back to hold him down, and used your left hand to hold his head against the floor. His ash-blond hair was surprisingly soft nestled between your fingers—not at all able to poke your eyes out like you'd thought. You grunted as Dynamight struggled and bared his teeth at you as much as he could with his left cheek squished to the floor. Fuck, he was strong. It took everything you had to keep him on the ground, your legs squeezing around his torso.
All you had to do was hold him here until he tapped out, right?
“Give in,” you grunted out through gritted teeth. Your muscles strained to hold him still, sweat rolled down the back of your neck. His crimson eye that wasn’t smushed to the floor darted to look up at you, the pupil tiny and angry.
“Like hell!” he snarled, and before you could register what was happening, he relaxed his muscles and stopped struggling. You blinked in surprise, then let out a yelp when he abruptly twisted himself to the side and shoved you off his back. You toppled over clumsily and immediately started to roll away before he could trap you against the floor. You had a split second to look up and see him lunge for your figure, a furious scowl on his face. Just a split second to decide what you could do.
You rotated your body around, your back flat against the floor. And just as Dynamight was about to crush you under him, you quickly lifted your legs up and locked your thighs around his neck. You liked to think the move had caught him by surprise, but before you could relish in the expression on his face, you threw your legs to the side with all your might. You allowed your body to naturally follow the motion and lifted yourself up with the help of your arms until you found yourself sitting upright on top of Dynamight’s chest. His face was slowly turning red as you squeezed his head between your thighs.
Your chest heaved with air, your heart pounding in your ears as you stared down at him. His thick hands were trying to pry your thighs away from his neck, but you were unrelenting. You reached down to grasp his wrists between your significantly smaller hands and attempt to tug them away. He bared his teeth at you like he was a ferocious dog, nearly foaming at the mouth.
“Give in,” you heaved out again. You may have had the upper hand, but this asshole was insanely tough to keep in one place.
“Fuck you,” he strangled out. Your mouth twisted, a comment about how he was in no position to do that lingering on your tongue. But before you could get snarky with him, he let out a mix of a yell and a grunt and did a fucking sit up. You had no idea how he was able to do that while you were sitting on his chest, squeezing the shit out of his head, but it made you lose your balance. You fell backwards onto his legs, a choked sound escaping your lips. Your eyes snapped up to his face as he leaned forward to squish you—
“AAAAAND TIME!!!”
You promptly released him, unlocking your legs from around his neck as you pushed yourself into a backwards roll off his legs. You puffed out a deep breath of air and stood up, blinking as you finally registered the loud cheers and screams of the crowd around you. With how focused you’d been on the match, you’d almost forgotten you were in a boxing ring. You flinched slightly when someone wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you close to them, only to relax when you realized it was Kaminari.
“Would ya look at that!!” he roared out through his microphone, shaking you around a bit. “We’ve got a tie!! Don’t judge people on their looks, folks! Been a while since someone was able to stand up against Mr. Murder God!!” He turned to look down at you, a wide grin on his face as he said your name. “Anything you wanna say in the aftermath of this riveting and oddly sexy match?!!”
You gulped, sweating nervously as the microphone was brought up to your mouth. You looked around at the frenzied crowd before your eyes eventually fell onto Dynamight’s scowling face. He’d picked himself off the ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared daggers at you. His face and ears were so red they reminded you of ripe apples. You held eye contact with him, leaning down slightly to speak into the microphone.
“I always win,” you said calmly and the crowd practically erupted in screams again. Dynamight scowled deeper, his teeth grating together. You only gave him a smirk in response.
---
The moments after the match were, honestly, not what you’d been expecting. As soon as you jumped down from the ring’s platform, you were ambushed by Ashido and that red-haired man you’d seen earlier.
“Holy shit, girl!!” she yelled and shook you by the shoulders. “That was so hot!!! Where did you learn to move like that?! You evaded like, all his attacks!!!”
You gave her a grin and lifted your hands up to hold onto her wrists. “I did gymnastics and stuff a lot. Ever since I was a kid.”
“You were really cool up there!!” the red-haired man agreed brightly. You turned to look at him as he stuck a hand out at you. He was incredibly tall and broad-shouldered with dazzling white teeth that shined brighter than the sun. You felt even smaller standing in front of him than you did while you were sparring with Dynamight. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou, by the way, Dynamight’s best friend and trainer!”
“Nice to meet you,” you told him pleasantly as you shook his hand. It nearly engulfed your own. Ashido let go of you and clasped her hands together as she wiggled around.
“He’s gonna be so pissed that he didn’t win this one,” she said gleefully. Her lips curled into a wicked grin. “He wins everything, y’know? Getting a tie’s gonna hurt his ego so much, I’d be wary if I were you!”
“Wary?” You cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Why?”
“He’s gonna want to fight you again,” Kirishima snickered, “Won’t be able to deal with the loss.”
“But it was a tie,” you pointed out. “Technically not a loss.”
“It is to him”—Ashido rolled her eyes then seemed to notice something behind you—“Oh! Speak of the devil!”
You had but a moment’s notice before something strong gripped your shoulder and spun you around. You blinked and found yourself staring at a bare chest before you moved your gaze up to look at Dynamight’s snarling face. He had a white towel around his neck that he’d probably used to wipe the sweat off his face if its dryness was any indication.
“Yes?” you asked him to fill the tense air he’d caused to settle around you both. He let out a small growl then lifted his hand from your shoulder to poke it at you.
“You, me,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, “rematch. Right now.”
You only stared at him. Before you could say something, however, someone else joined your little group.
“Hey hey heeey, man, chill out!” Kaminari slid next to you. His microphone was gone and you took the small distraction to glance around the arena. The crowd was being ushered out by people in dark security uniforms. It made you wonder where your friends were. You should probably get back to them soon. “You just had a match, save it for later!”
“No,” Dynamight spat out, his gaze not moving from your own at all. You noticed his ears were still pretty red. “We’re goin’ again.”
“Dude,” Kirishima sighed, “c’mon, it’s been a long night.”
“Yeah! Not everyone’s got the energy like you do!” Ashido butted in, her hands on her hips as she raised her eyebrows at the boxer. He only let out an irate tch.
“I don’t fuckin’ care—”
“While I would love to stay back and fight again,” you interrupted loudly, “I do have to take care of my friends.” You paused for a second then added on, “My drunk friends. I can’t leave them alone.”
“See?” Kirishima gestured pointedly at you then reached a large hand out to clap against Dynamight’s shoulder. He roughly shrugged it off and Kirishima raised his hands in surrender. “Save it for another time, bro.”
Dynamight glared at Kirishima for a hot second then scoffed loudly, seeming to relent. “Whatever.” He stormed off to one of the benches and started shuffling around in what you assumed was his bag. You watched him, tracing your eyes along the muscles that made up his upper back, before you were roughly tugged back to reality when something slammed into your side and latched onto your arm. Two somethings.
“What the—” you managed to yelp out, stumbling slightly as your head snapped around to see your two friends clinging onto you eagerly, dopey smiles on their faces.
“I told you!!” your friend shouted in your ear as she shook your arm. She looked so proud, drunkenly holding onto you. “I— I told you you could take ‘im!!!”
“Where did you guys come from?? Did you hop the gate??” you asked confusedly. You were promptly ignored, not that you minded.
“That— That was so cool you were soo cool!!” your other friend blabbered as they leaned heavily against your side. You only shook your head, smiling slightly at them.
“Thanks, but I should really get you both home.” You let out a sigh and allowed them to lean against you and chatter away. Now that the match was over, you were starting to feel pretty tired. It didn’t help that you felt really gross, your jeans and blouse sticking uncomfortably to your warm skin.
“Want help?” Kirishima offered. “My car’s parked down the block.”
You hesitated. While you were thankful for the offer, you were still wary about piling into the car of a man you met literally five minutes ago. Stranger danger, and all that. You weren’t stupid, even if he did seem nice.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just call an Uber,” you declined him politely. You hoped he would understand your reluctance, and it seemed like he did, for he didn’t seem offended in the slightest.
“If you say so.” He shrugged and stuck his hands into his pockets. You suppressed a relieved sigh.
“I could also offer y’all a ride,” Kaminari added in, giving you a wink when you turned your head to look at him, unimpressed.
“Bitch you came with me!!” Ashido slapped him on the back of his head, a scolding look on her face. Kaminari looked at her as he rubbed the back of his head. “You ain’t slick!!”
“Worth a shot.” Kaminari bowed his head and pouted at the floor. You cracked a smile. This was so strange.
“Well,” you started lightly, nudging at your friends to get them to ease up on their crushing grips, “I should head out—” Before you could even finish your sentence, however, Dynamight stomped his way back over to you and shoved something in your face. You blinked and looked up at him, the way he was pointedly avoiding your gaze. A flush was still around his neck and ears. It was kind of cute, not that you’d tell him that.
“Take it!” he impatiently shouted at you as he waved his hand under your nose. You raised an eyebrow, not noticing when Kirishima and Ashido exchanged sly looks.
“Oh, uh, okay.” You pried your arm loose from your friend and grabbed whatever Dynamight had been holding. Your two friends leaned closer to peek at it as well. It was a slip of paper with a name and phone number on it. Bakugou Katsuki, huh? It was fitting. You glanced up to look at him. “What’s this for…?”
He sneered at you, and you noticed he had shoved on a black tank top that fitted his torso quite nicely. “We’re havin’ that fuckin’ rematch, no excuses. Text me your availability.”
“Pfft”—Kaminari snorted into his elbow—“It’s like you’re setting up an appointment— OW!” He’d gotten punched on the upper arm by Dynamight. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up, jeez.”
“You’d better,” Dynamight snarled at Kaminari, then turned back to look at you. “If y’don’t text me I swear to fuck I’ll hunt you down.” Was that a threat or a promise?
“It’s not that serious, luv,” Ashido muttered not-so-quietly behind her hand. You shook your head and smiled.
“No, no, it’s okay,” you said as you read over the slip of paper again. “I’m down for another match. It’ll be fun.” Your eyes flicked back up to Dynamight, fixing him with a stare that had the tips of his ears darkening further. You smirked and followed the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, then moved to hold eye contact with him again. “It’s a date then, Bakugou.”
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thepoisonroom · 6 months
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kinda realizing that it was maybe bad for me that i spent so long dating someone who fundamentally looked down on me and treated me like i was too silly and irresponsible and fucked in the head to make my own decisions
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sleepvines · 2 months
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wylieeee and garde and reed and lumennn
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calamity-unlocked · 9 months
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To get rid of the Doodler, they needed to be radical. Code Purple was that radical plan, and it had worked. For a while. It just needed to work again. Which it would. Lark was convinced that it would. You’re either with us or against us, Nicky. Welp. Guess that by that infallible logic, I’m against you. Sorry, guys. Lark was sorry, too. But feeling sorry had never been too big of an issue for him.
Or: Lark and Nick spend one last night together before shit hits the fan.
Dungeons and Daddies - Nark - Rated T for Teen - 5.2k words
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itspileofgoodthings · 2 months
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iloveyoumorethansoup · 3 months
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the depression is doing abnormal things (im not rotting?? still there. but its not that kind rn) and god would i Love to say. the lwa obsession never left. the depression briefly (last two years) covered it. i am still so not normal at all about this show. i need it so bad in every aspect of my life
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nerves-nebula · 1 year
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under da cut vent. tw for cutting/self harm
people are always trying to convince me that I'll regret self harm but i have yet to regret cutting specifically, and its very annoying. "oh nooo you'll have scars forever :(( do you really want to memorialize this bad feeling for the rest of your life??" have you considered that I WANT scars because I think they're COOL and you acting like they're the worst thing that could happen to me just makes me want them MORE cuase like. fuck off??
like im gonna be scarred anyway, im already in pain, what do you mean carrying this for the rest of my life- I ALREADY AM. and if i'm not in the future, then the scars will make me happy cause it's like wow I survived! Are you just upset that now YOU have to see it to??
and my scars aren't even that big, they're fucking tiny! less than inch long! you can barely even see them even if you're looking for them!
all this hand wringing over it is so goddamn annoying. I havent cut in like a year at this point and i am NOT happier for it. the only reason I stopped is cause my gf would be upset, and I'd have to tell her every time i did because I know she wants to know and not telling her would be lying. but it hasn't helped me at all, i don't feel safer or calmer or better, if anything it feels like i've just lost one more point of control over my own fuckin body.
i'm so tired of people's ideas around why i do what i do overriding my actual experiences and feelings. whine and complain about me hurting myself but you're not there when i need you anyway so what am i even supposed to do.
be a good boy and sit still and do what im told while i slowly die inside, AGAIN, because every action i want to take is the wrong one? cause it doesnt fit with what a Person should do? give me a break, we all know i'm most of a beast than a human anyway.
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maskyartist · 10 months
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No one understands the intricacies of Ozpin starting out as headmaster and huntsman and one of Ozma’s younger souls and lives as being extremely skinny and overworked, only to get not only fatter but happier and more relaxed as life goes on because he learns to rely on the people around him and trust in uncertainty and enjoy life’s little things while he still can before he can’t remember them at all like PLEASE UNDERSTAND THE INTRICACIES-
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kingdomoftyto · 7 months
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Rotating Simon Petrikov in my mind again...........
Right now I can only envision the F&C series ending in one of two ways for him:
Simon is persuaded to permanently move to Fionna's magic-free world--a chance to live the peaceful, scholarly life he was denied by the war and the Crown. We see that he can't relate to the humans in Ooo because they're so far removed from what humans were like back in his time that they might as well be aliens, but this alternate world would be just like he remembered his old life to be, and thus more comfortable for him to settle down in. Even if it meant leaving Marceline and the others behind in Ooo, I could see this being a real possibility if Betty somehow finds a way to go with him. It would require moving on irrevocably from one part of his life, but they'd get their simple, mundane--yet happy--ending.
Simon is forced to reconcile with the fact that reuniting with Betty is either impossible or not worth some terrible price. Maybe he realizes he's not willing to cut himself off from his Marceline and the little ragtag family they've built, even for a life with Betty. Or maybe accepting the mundane life for himself would also doom Fionna and Cake to a life of misery and broken dreams, and he can't bring himself to betray his new friends for such a selfish reward. Either way the result is that he returns to Ooo, to basically the same situation he was in at the start of the season, but finally free from all the regret and guilt and grief that was stopping him from moving forward and finally embracing the second chance that Betty gave him back in "Come Along with Me".
I honestly don't know which I think is more likely at this point OR necessarily which one I would prefer, because they both have pros and cons. I maybe lean toward the second one because I tend to hate "the magic is gone, and that's good!"-type endings, but depending on the buildup I could still see it working. Ultimately it'll depend on wherever Fionna and Cake themselves end up, and I have NO idea where that's going lmao
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