#I DONT KNOW HOW TO TALK sorry feels like i write total nonsense

[somlkyi]

WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND.

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[shreddeddescent]

weird barely thought out rambling about my process here sorry if it sounds like a lot

so i guess i should say there was totally an idea of a plan in place for like. okay they’ll all get one on one time then i can get em all talking and explaining plot something and get stuff rolling.

but then it was like jennika reached through the screen and grabbed me and said NO. help mikey right now this isnt just flavour text you have to commit. and i said yep no you’re so right actually thats way more important.

and then i guess that happened it made me kinda look back over everything and everyone and decide WELL. maybe this is what the story really is, just a lot of overly emotional vulnerable conversations where everybody feels fucked up but they just kinda talk it through with each other, as good or bad as they are at it. maybe thats more important.

i guess the things i wrote just trying to flesh out the rest of it ended up being the story kinda thing. the aftermath of all these other things turned out to be more interesting than trying to get into some "real" plot.

like to be fucking real thats whats been so interesting to me. the 'worst case scenario' ended ages ago, intended to just be that part as a 'get it out of your system' personal thing of writing the most fucked up thing i could. but then it kept going with the effects of it still hang over the characters.

shredders dead yet somehow its like hes still the main antagonist because all the conflict stems from him. defeating him didnt end the story.

i guess i could say over and over that if i had thought it all through it would come off better. dont know if i would have implemented things like raph's comatose state or random forced pheromone bullshit, nor the speed up on the pregnancy period. feel like i would have put april and casey into the story better without dropping them the way i have. i could have written better set up, better payoff. but its not about being planned, its all a weird game of improv im playing with myself that has the unintended consequences of being too fascinating to stop. too fascinating to keep to myself.

and thats been what it is, the gross messy dramatic sappy corny healing process. its absolutely gonna be over 200k words by the end, which is. you know. NUTS. ive not posted my writing before all this nonsense so hhhhrgh you know.

but....... maybeeee its kinda a lot? like too corny too dark too messy too weirdly written? but i just feel like.... meh. its my personal soap opera, i get to decide how long that shit goes on for. whether it seems like im beating a dead horse or not, its my dead horse to beat.

and things like that last chapter are like... AH. would everyone have rathered i sit them all down and make them tell you whats going on? too bad, leos had an anxiety attack so we dont get that right now cuz he genuinely cant take it. the completely unintentional letting the characters fucking experience complicated emotions even if they are gonna get in the way of what my plan might have been IS the story.

in a sense i am the adult turtles telling those kids 'no its okay, take a second to feel that out, we can wait'

its such an interesting way of expressing something, not really sure what else i could say.

but im having fun. i guess thats the point.

if my insanity helps anybody else, well, thats a bonus.

[bye-bye-firefly]

Oh my goodness!! You so get it!! You get it all so muchhhhh!!!!!!!! I’m so excited to see that scene! I haven’t finished watching her latest video of it but like at the part I’m paused at Ellie and Joel are at the Dinosaur Place and it’s very wholesome.

And yes! Love! Love in a story is the greatest!! The Lengths someone is willing to go for someone, how that love can lift you up! How you can try so hard! How that love can make things so much harder, how even if you can’t tolerate something someone has done you can still love them?? How you can just have the sweetest, most adorable moments together??? I love love in storiesssss, it’s so cooooool aghhhhh.

And I love the love you can feel a writer putting into a story! Like, they’re telling a story and like, to tell a story or like create any form of art I think you have to put a piece of You into it and then you can just feel the love sprinkled in like this magical secret ingredient and it’s so awesome???

Also really love enthusiasm for Things, like someone could write for something super niche or just this random topic that I otherwise would have no interest in and like the enthusiasm just makes it really fun.

Like, sometimes I’ll go and read fanfics that were written before the piece of media even came out and like it doesn’t even matter if they have characterizations that I feel do not fit with the character even though characterizations that do not fit with my perception of characters usually really bothers me because this was written before we knew what the character was like and it’s just like, you were so excited to get into this story and find out what happens and meet all these characters that you wrote a whole fanfic for it? That is so cool

And like fanfics in general are so, so cool and wonderful and awesome. Like you spent time writing a fanfic for this media? And it could’ve been for any number of reasons? That is amazing

Also! Yes! Forgiveness! Like even if you don’t succeed, trying to move past something because you care so much and you don’t want to always have this resentment! Or trying to let go of something because it hurts so much and if you can’t let go you’ll know it’ll destroy you! Or learning that it’s alright to let go, it’s okay to forgive, it doesn’t mean that whatever event that happened was ok, doesn’t mean that whatever someone did was ok and they didn’t do something bad but it’s alright to have that not always be a driving force behind your actions. That people have the capacity to forgive. Love forgiveness! Very excited to see how the 2nd game uses it!

Sorry this ended up with me going on about nonsense for so long! Also sorry that I kinda got off topic with talking about meta-y stuff. I got all happy after I read your response and then had the Uncontainable urge to write words down and I did not mean to just keep on going but then I did.

no you dont have to apologise i totally understand this like. its when you can feel tangibly in like any story whether that be through fanfiction or someones original work that they love what they are doing and they are having a wonderful fucking time i LOVE that shit. people rag on fanfiction too much and people are too scared to admit they like fanfiction and treat it like its a Lesser Artform but ultimately people are like. STILL building a story. and sure there are people (like me) who dont plan their shit and just go with the flow because of course im not writing to publish and present it to a huge audience im writing it for fun and everyone is there for fun but i think thats the beauty of fanfiction. its all just a giant passion project and it costs nothing but time and really thats what passion projects are there for to dump your time into. we should not be afraid to put our time into what seems meaningless because it means something to us and thats what matters

im glad we agree on everything like these things are soooo ooEVERYTHINGNGNG Ntooo MEMEMEEEEE i go crazy insane over these things and the people who know me know that i go crazy insane all the time over all of this. and time loops of course i love time loops HOW DID I FORGET THAT WHEN I ANSWERED YOUR ORIGINAL ASK? like i love time loops. time loops are my favourite thing ever in the whole wide world. its choosing to go back over and over even when it hurts because you desperately want someone back. you cannot stand to lose someone you love. and as always everything that i go crazy over is tied back to Love and Devotion and Loyalty. the love is always there we didnt get what we wanted but we were together the hero becomes a villain when they find out they would burn the whole world down to save someone they love and it always takes EFFORT to do these things. like you CHOOSE to go back. you CHOOSE to continue forward for an ending you are sure you're not going to get but you have to try because its for THEM. you do whatever it takes to get your someone safe even if it costs other people's lives and that's what dooms you. but its worth it all the same. GRRAGHGHGHGHGHH

[palbabor-writes]

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός   ther·​mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating. 

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper. 

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic. 

It’s Toga. 

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks. 

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text. 

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well. 

Hmm, well this is something, at least. 

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C. 

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

 Fuck. 

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths. 

There is a heat advisory today. 

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good. 

Wishful thinking on his part. 

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all. 

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move. 

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner. 

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him. 

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down. 

You were out of town. 

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv. 

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment. 

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you. 

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too. 

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to. 

You’re gone for the better part of a week. 

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name? 

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies? 

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days. 

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you? 

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in. 

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets. 

You’ve got a nice smell. 

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now. 

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him. 

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours. 

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin. 

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance. 

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face. 

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly. 

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that. 

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo. 

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile. 

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation. 

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view. 

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head. 

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach. 

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his. 

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do. 

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes. 

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep? 

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm. 

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window. 

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them. 

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it. 

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you. 

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking. 

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now. 

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter. 

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl. 

There’s fuck all happening. 

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting. 

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.” 

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth. 

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind. 

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him. 

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close. 

He’s never been this close to you. 

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another. 

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him. 

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

 When he wakes again, you’re gone. 

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper. 

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.” 

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now. 

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed. 

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him. 

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching. 

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance. 

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down. 

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer. 

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals. 

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine. 

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress. 

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you. 

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar. 

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.  

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention. 

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display. 

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.” 

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night. 

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought. 

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front. 

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss? 

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice. 

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up. 

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright. 

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse. 

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.” 

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good. 

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in. 

Not without you. 

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him. 

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you. 

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time. 

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex. 

That sounds better than saying what he really wants. 

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it. 

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him. 

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him. 

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down. 

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face. 

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find. 

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw. 

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard. 

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin. 

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you. 

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.” 

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm. 

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness. 

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs. 

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you. 

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings. 

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress. 

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions. 

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close. 

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.  

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves. 

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air. 

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him. 

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt. 

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him. 

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist. 

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big. 

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.  

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?” 

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him. 

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds. 

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts. 

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.” 

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back. 

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully. 

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more. 

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions. 

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out. 

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots. 

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.” 

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes. 

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet. 

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution. 

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs. 

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets. 

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind. 

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°  

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

[gunmetal-ring]

11x16 stream of consciousness

This is reminding me of jeepers creepers for some reason and idk why lol

Flashback... surprise. Aw does hershel have a stuffed pig?! That's so fuckin cute I wanna see it

Lance is not a great military commander if he's just like. Flipping coins lmao

Oh shit real Stephanie/max and Eugene did the deed! Nerds. Manbun alert.

OK so they're gonna ditch I guess. Where are they? Isn't Leah with them? I guess not?

If they're trying to sneak away in broad daylight...?

Okay so Leah is with some non armored stormtroopers?? How did Leah not see them sneaking away aren't they like RIGHT there

Hiding underground. Nice. "My wife is pregnant" Oh? Interesting that it matters to you now. #foreshadowing Annie's gonna die. Maggie is starting to trust negan... spinoff alert. Ew gross swarm of locusts.

Where is the 2nd location WHAT are they clearing can I please get some goddamn answers are they just sweeping for maggie?? Hello?! Oop there it is. The revolution. Calling bs that the stormtroopers aren't radioing for help. GABE FOR THE SNEAK ATTACK GODDAMN ok I officially like him he's proved himself to be a badass this season.

"Scholarship fund" lol and pay for textbooks with $50,000 amirite?! #cancelstudentloandebt. Oh no, the fundraiser queen is corrupt, whoda thunkit

Incredible that all these secret hiding locations are just. Popping up out of nowhere. I rly find it hilarious that oceanside has existed only to tell the commonwealth to fuck off. No hiding Maggie and team family, no food assistance, no nothing.

Sebastian, how does the old saying go? If everyone around you is an asshole, maybe it's you? Also like literally all max had to do was say "Yup working late" and not act like she's snooping how the fuck would he know any better. You can tell she's the younger sibling. Her parents gave up on being strict by the time mercer got thru to them.

?? What?? Okay sure just rig the building. Uh oh... here comes Leah. She's a better shot than that. The whole swarm of locusts thing would have been better w pope bc he was the crazy religious one. Leah didn't rly seem to give a shit one way or the other. I find it hard to believe she couldn't hit Maggie while running away but whatever ok.

What do you know the rogue assassin you hired is rogue. Lance you rly do suck as a military commander lol

Yup here it comes, the nonsensical narrative arc in which Daryl kills Leah to save Maggie. Makes all the sense in the world. Ah and apparently everyone knows who leah is. Ok time to stop being bitter. Wait oh no oh fuck is Daryl gonna kill Leah bc Leah kills Lydia?! No God pls no I'm sorry Kang I'll take everything i said back this is a great season so far its my favorite ever and the writing has been a1 I swear and I don't even care abt caryl I promise ill nevet write fic that fixes nonexistent plot holes bc nothing about this season could possibly be improved just DONT kill Lydia.

Connie's outfit is very cute I like that shirt. Lol this is magnas first scene in like a hundred episodes I forgot about her. Zeke is a badass as per usual

Wouldn't all the walkers be drawn to the explosion at the building? Not just wandering in the woods? She knocked her out and tied her to a chair and Maggie has been unconscious for like 6 hours... sure. "Everyone you love will be dead" why not hunt them down while Maggie is knocked out overnight? Why just sit there the whole time? OK maybe Maggie will kill Leah and be done with it. I'd actually be fine with that. Yup ok there it is. Great. No fuckin fanfare or anything either. Whatever at least it's over now. I'm sure we won't ever see a discussion or outpouring of feelings about it either were just supposed to accept that Daryl had no feelings and was totally neutral about killing the first woman he'd ever had a relationship with. Sure. Honestly I'd be OK if he talked to Carol about it bc that would salvage this the absolute tiniest bit but I know that won't happen.

Real talk tho how did Connie get that shit printed lol. OK Alexandria is now property of commonwealth? And hilltop? Why? Why not just kill everyone and leave? Seriously this shit is so stupid. OK at least they're rounding people up. Oh lol there's oceanside. Heads they kill them tails they're prisoners of war? What?

Surprise surprise this episode sucked, I'm rly over it. I hate that I'm actually glad this arc is over like seriously I wish I loved this show still I wish I wasn't so fuckin invested and disappointed I want to love the show that my ship is in and I hate that I'm actually glad it's ending. Ugh. UGH. I hate that I'm actually looking forward to caryl going canon bc it means the buildup is over and I know they're gonna fuck up the build up. UGH!!!!

Anyway I'm just gonna start my 10c 11a 11b rewrite now. Leave the missing moments until after the series is over. I'm gonna make a list of moments that we should have seen tho bc no fuckin way am I ever gonna rewatch this season lol.

Omg I didn't even realize that they blew up Barrington house lol. "We've been talking about luck a lot" Oh right when else did they talk about luck? Wasn't that with Carol and Daryl? With double capper acorns? With "we have luck on our side" and "our luck has run out" like it JUST fucking happened! Where are THOSE callbacks?!

Overall disappointed but not the least bit surprised. Underwhelmed once more. Truly insane just how shitty this season has been so far. Glad this block is over and looking forward to all the fix it fic coming this hiatus. Ugh.

[wreckofawriter]

Stupid Dance, Stupid Teenagers

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 3,135

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of weed? Swearing?

Request: @twilightlover2007: Could I request an imagine with Remus? Bookworm/avid photographer Remus watches from afar until his mates push him to talk to her/ask her to the upcoming ball? :)

A/n: Okay, I am quarantined for a month so I should be writing more but who knows, I am a dumbass. Okay, umm not exscatly in love with this one but I've already re-written it twice so I'm done. So sorry it took so long

Remus felt himself get lost again, before about a month ago he never tended to wander from his classes, they were relatively easy to stick to as most of them were quite interesting, but recently something far more entertaining had caught his attention. 

He watched as your fingers fiddled with the device under your desk two seats to his left and one down. He knew if McGonagall caught you she would give you hell, her patience probably ran out simply because of the sheer number of times she had caught you with the camera during class. 

You weren't doing anything in particular, simply spinning the lense in your hand and clicking on and off the flash. Yet Remus was completely memorised as your fingers moved so gracefully with the object. He had completely forgotten his notes, only a few sentences scribbled down before his eyes found your form. 

He began to wonder how your hands would feel in his hair, fingers ghosting through his curled locks. From there his mind began to wander to your own hair, his eyes following. It looked so soft and smooth, spilling like a waterfall from your head, its y/h/c hue shining in the dusty sunlight which filtered through the classrooms windows. 

A jab in his side forced his gaze from you to his dark haired friend. 

"Uh Moony if you don't take notes then none of us are going to have any and we are definitely going to fail Minnie's test on Friday." Sirius whispered to him.

"Since when do you care if you fail?" Remus muttered.

Sirius flashed a smile, and shrugged, "Since never but you do." 

Remus couldn't exactly argue with that so he simply rolled his eyes and dipped his quill into the ink. But one desk down and two desks over you had taken to messing with your hair and that was far more intriguing so he let his eyes stay there instead. 

Sirius took note of his friend's immediate departure from reality and let out an annoyed huff. 

"Moony seriously," he began knowing just how disappointed in himself the werewolf would be if he didn't score his unusually high performance on the upcoming exam. 

"I'll just ask Lily for notes." He responded, eyes never leaving the girl who sat a few meters away. 

"She never gives anyone notes." Sirius shot back attempting to gain Remus' attention.

"Correction, she never gives you or James notes because you are idiots." Remus commented, still not tearing himself from you.

Sirius was fed up with the lack of attention he was accustomed to receiving and pouted, it only took seconds for that pit to turn to smirk though. 

"Oh well I'm sure that y/l/n would like to hear you've been stalking her for the past month." Sirius' smile grew as his friend's head whipped towards him, eyes just a bit too wide, cheeks tainted a light pink. 

"I have not been stalking her." Remus hissed.

"Sure you haven't, and I'm in love with Malfoy." Sirius grinned, pure ecstasy filling him as Remus turned a deeper red. 

Remus turned away from the Gryffindor attempting to ignore him. In response Sirius plucked the maroon beanie from his head placing it on his own. 

"I don't see why you don't just ask her out." Sirius shrugged leaning back as Remus made a grab for his hat. 

"Give my hat back Sirius." He growled already fed up with his nonsense. 

Sirius pursued his lips pretending to contemplate his answer before breaking out in a smile, "Nah, I think it looks better on me." 

Remus once again rolled his eyes, "I don't want your grease on my hat Pads, now give it back." 

"I don't think I will after that comment." Sirius mused.

Hazel eyes rolled in their sockets once again and he lurched forward in attempts to take the hat from a bed of shimmering black. 

While his efforts did gain him back his beanie, in the process his elbow had found his open bottle of ink and successfully drenched everything on his desk. 

"Shit!" The boy cursed pushing himself backwards to avoid the liquid before it dripped onto his robes. 

"Mr. Lupin!" McGonagall snapped from the front of the class. 

"Sorry Professor!" Remus called back glaring at Sirius who bit back a laugh. 

"Black stop bothering your desk mate." The teacher added in with a glare. 

"Why am I being yelled at?" Sirius questioned.

"Because you are almost always the cause of these issues." 

At this point Remus' mind left the ink now dripping to the floor as his eyes connected to yours. You had a small smile on your face, clearly amused by the situation, your camera was now disregarded on your bag as a quill danced in your hand. The boy told himself to stop staring but it made that nearly impossible. 

You only shook your head slightly and smiled widening before you turned back to your work.

Remus was sure he was still burning red even after his teacher's had vanished the ink from his desk and continued the lesson.  

    The Gryffindor avoided looking at you for the remainder of class. By the time they were dismissed his embarrassment had dulled but not disappeared. Sirius refused to apologise claiming it was not his fault and James thought the whole thing was simply hilarious. So when you appeared in front of the three boys as they exited the classroom different emotions were evoked. 

    “Hey Lupin.” You greeted ignoring the other two boys who stood at his side with wide eyes. 

"Uh h-hey." Remus spoke cursing himself for stumbling over his words. 

You coughed nervously attempting to ignore the fact that three extremely popular boys were now staring you down. Maybe you didn't think this through properly. "Um well I just noticed that your notes were ruined and I am pretty good at this unit so you can use mine if you want." You said shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you spoke. 

The three boys all looked startled, James and Sirius turning to look at Remus who was a bit pale.

You raised your hand to the back of your neck your other holding the notes you had offered up, "It's cool if you don't need them, I'm sure you can get some from Lily or something-"

"No!" Remus said a bit too loudly, cringing at his own actions, "No, Lily would probably be pissed at me anyway." 

Your face visibly brightened, you opened your mouth to speak but was cut off. 

"Y/n come on! We are gonna be late." A girl down the hall huffed. 

"Don't yell at her, she's finally talking to Remus." Another hissed quietly, but not quietly enough. 

Your face erupted into color, "Well I've got to go." You spoke so quickly it was almost inaudible as you shoved the notes at the stunned boy before turning and running towards the group of housemates. 

When you reached them you slapped the two who had spoken with your books you were holding and buried your head in your hands as you walked away. 

Remus stared after you, his cheeks dusted pink as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

When you disappeared around the corner James let out a laugh, "That was one of the most awkward things I have ever seen." 

"I think you mean hilarious." Siriua corrected. 

"Shut up." Remus groaned.

"Look on the bright side Moony, now you know she totally has a thing for you so you can ask her out already." James smirked.

"How do we know that exactly?'' the werewolf asked. 

"Are you blind, deaf or just plain stupid?" Sirius mused.

"Yeah Moony come on. She gave you notes, blushed way too much and did you not hear the 'she's finally talking to Remus' conversation?" James giggled. 

"Whatever." Remus scoffed despite the smile twitching on his lips. 

"I can't believe you did that to me." Your groaned face is still hot from the conversation you had a few minutes ago. 

"I'm so sorry y/n/n. I didn't mean to be so loud." The short blonde next to you apologized for the thousandth time. 

"Well thank Godric you were Elle, that was the funniest thing I've seen in awhile." The brunette who sat on your other side laughed, the memory still pleasant in her head.

"Fuck off Nat." Elle glared, "at least she has the guts to talk to the person she likes, you cant even get within five yards of Alice without turning into a mess." 

"That's not fair! It's different." She argued her cheeks tinting red. "Remus obviously likes her." She grumbled, "Everyone knows Alice has a thing for Frank." 

Elle rolled her eyes, "I wish you would just get over her already." 

"Don't we all." You agreed, happy that the conversation isn't centered around your awkward interaction with the Gryffindor boy. 

Class took years but when it finally ended you and your two companions, who were still bickering, walked out to the quidditch pitch. Your camera felt nice in your hands again as you strolled across the bright grass. 

As Natasha walked into the locker rooms Elle joined your side, looking a bit upset. 

You looked through your device pointing it at the girl who looked on the verge of tears. You dropped the camera so it slung around your neck, pulling her into a hug. 

"She'll get over her eventually." You sighed, "I swear she will." 

"I just feel stupid." She whimpered, whipping her tears fiercely. 

"Dont feel stupid, feel artsy." You giggled, "I wanna go a photoshoot with you." 

Her mood changed drastically, "Really!" 

"Yeah come on let's head back to the lake." You grabbed her hand walking her back to the lake and away from the pitch.

Remus watched as you left the pitch from his place on the stands, Sirius was beside him following his gaze to you.

"Her friend is pretty cute, I think I might ask her out." Sirius sighed picking at his nails. 

"I'm sure she has taste." Remus spoke, rolling his eyes. 

Sirius opened his mouth to state his offence but was cut off, "We should go down to the lake." 

"I wonder why you would want to go to the lake?" Sirius hummed faking contemplation

Remus sighed again, "I'll just go without you." 

"Okay, okay, we'll go, but only because watching James practice is super boring." Sirius agreed standing from his seat. 

As the two made their way towards the lake the two could hear loud laughter.

    Remus stopped glancing cautiously around the tree to see you knee-deep in water holding your skirt up with one hand and holding your camera with the other. Your friend was standing on the dock giggling. 

    Despite the fact that she was the one posing you managed to look like an angel. The sun was low in the sky giving you a golden glow as you photographed your friend. Your upper thigh was exposed, your smooth skin visible. Your hair was loose, a strand falling into your face. 

“Tilt your head back.” You instructed, “Take a step towards me and pop your hip.” 

“God y/n/n I feel ridiculous.” Elle spoke but she did as she was told. 

“You’re not the one waist-deep in water.” You shot back closing your mouth and clicking the shutter. 

“I’m also not the one who insisted on getting into the water to get a good angle.” She shot back.

“Shut up and let me take your picture.”

“Are we gonna just stare at them or..?” Sirius asked, causing Remus to jump from his daze. 

“Shut up.” 

“I didn't know you were such a perv Moony.” Sirius giggled. 

“I am not a perv!” He whisper-shouted. 

“You're kinda acting like one.” Siriys shrugged, smirking. 

“Fuck off I cant just let her know I followed her.”

“Why not?” 

“Okay, we're leaving.” Remus sighed beginning to walk back towards the quidditch pitch. 

“I don't understand why you don't just ask her out.” 

“You say that like it's an easy thing.” Remus sighed. 

“Just ask her to the spring dance.” Sirius shrugged, “It's not that hard.” 

“It’s not that hard for you.” Remus corrected him. 

Sirius just rolled his eyes a small smirk finding the way onto his lips. 

Remus narrowed his eyes, suspicion suddenly filling him, “Don’t give me that look.” 

“What look?” Sirius inquired, face still holding the same expression. 

“That look,” Remus spoke emphasizing the first word.

“There is no look.” Sirius insisted. 

“You’re still doing it.” Remus scowled, “Its that look you always get before you do something idiotic.”

“I don’t have a look.” Sirius maintained. 

“You have a look, James has the same one.” The boy said his look turned from annoyed to scary. “I swear Pads, if you and James plan to meddle in my business I will gut you.” 

“I swear I’m not gonna do anything.” Sirius lied through his teeth. 

The pestering did not stop. James and Sirius were relentless. They refused to let Remus rest in peace. He was completely fine with watching you from afar but his two best friends seemed to have other ideas. 

“What about fireworks Moony?” Sirius asked. 

“That's a brilliant idea Pads!” James gasped excitedly. 

“If you set off fireworks around her I will kill you.” Remus hissed. 

“Fine, but if you don’t do something soon, I am going to tell her.” James shrugged.

“You do and I will-”

“Kill us yeah we know.”

“This is a stupid idea.” You groaned ruffling with your neatly pinned hair. 

“Don’t mess with that y/n, it took me years.” Natasha glared at you, her hands were currently buried in Elle's hair. 

“But it's so uncomfortable.” You groaned. “Why are we even going to this stupid thing anyway?” 

“Because you have done nothing but read and edit holed up in your dorm for the past week and we want to get drunk.” Elle replied leaning back into Nats touch. 

“So now I'm gonna have to look after drunk babies too? You're right that is the perfect evening.” You spoke rolling your eyes. 

“Whatever you’ll probably end up boning Remus anyway.” Natasha smirked.

“I will not!” You huffed picking up the closest thing to you which happened to be a hair brush and chucking it at the girl with red cheeks. 

“Will too.” She mumbled, dodging the object with ease. 

You slowly began to remove a few of the pins from your hair as your two best friends began an argument behind you. This was a bad idea. Remus was probably going to think you looked like you tried too hard or that you looked sluty or stupid. This was a really bad idea. But before you could bail the two behind you were standing. 

“Ready to go y/n/n?” Elle asked. 

“I guess.” You mumbled grabbing a book from your bed and following your friends down the stairs. 

Remus could not belive he had been stupid enough to go to this dumb party. He figured it's what he got for being friends with the two most obnoxious party animals in the entire school. Sirius was already hammered and it was not even eight yet. Remus considered making a break for the dorms but before he could he heard a loud shout. 

“Y/N!” Sirius cheered as you and your friends entered the room. 

You jumped a bit flushing as Sirius threw his arm around you offering you a drink which you declined and the blonde next to you took. 

You sighed shrugging off the shoulder as Sirius continued to slur nonsense into your ear. 

Just as Remus had built up the courage to go talk to you James appeared out of nowhere dragging him off to help with his harassment of Lily. When he returned a bit less than an hour later you had disappeared. 

He caught a glimpse of your friend Elle but to his surprise she was drunk making out with an equally drunk Natasha. He blinked a few times and sighed. You had probably ditched, he didn't blame you, he was going to do the same. 

Checking over his shoulder he then quickly he bagan up the stairs unbuttoning the far too tight shirt he had decided to wear. 

He bust open the door to the dorms closing it behind him before turning and freezing. 

You lay on his bed, hairpins strewn around you, a large book in front of you as you sat in an oversized hoodie he recognized as his own. Remus suddenly had the urge to pinch himself, was this some amazing day dream?

You had a light tinge to your cheeks as you spoke, “Hey.” 

Remus swallowed his mouth feeling very dry, “Hey.” 

“I'm really sorry im up here, I went up to the girls room and they were smoking weed and I just can't stand the smell so I thought I would just come up here instead.” You squeaked out, your eyes suddenly lingered downward. 

Remus glanced down at his shirt realizing he had unbuttoned it and blushed widely, quickly fumbling with the buttons. You refused to meet his gaze as he looked back at you. 

“I’m actually kind of glad you're here, I thought you ditched.” He said walking over to you and sitting on the bed opposite. 

“I would but my friends are drunk idiots.” You smiled softly. 

“Yeah they were making out downstairs.”

“WHAT?!” You yelled causing Remus to jump, “Are you serious!?” 

“Umm yeah.”

“Oh my god, finally, Elle has been in love with her since like forever, it was getting very painful.” You sighed.

“I can imagine.” Remus grinned. 

The room fell into silence, neither of you quite sure what to say. You flipped a page despite not having read it. 

“Hey y/n, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something.” Remus mumbled picking at the end of his dress shirt. 

“Shoot.” You respond, eyes leaving the book in front of you. 

“Would you like to go to that stupid spring fling with me?” He blurted out face washing crimson as your mouth dropped slightly. 

“Of course.” You respond, your heart beating so loud you were sure he could hear it. 

“Really?” Remus asked. 

“Yeah dummy, but only if we get to act like stupid teenagers.” You giggled and the boy felt his heart soar. 

“Of course.” He answered feeling a heavy weight lift from his chest. “By the way you look really cute in my hoodie.” 

You blushed eyes growing a bit wide. “I’m so sorry I had no idea it was yours, I was just really cold because of this stupid dress and it was just sitting there and-” 

“It’s fine.” Remus laughed, “It looks better on you anyway.” 

Taglist:

@evyiione

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

[thequeendesi]

Take A Bow

Title: Take A Bow

Warnings: swearing, cheating, mentions of sex and alcohol ( just a mention ), baby

Pairings: N/A

AU: Grown Up

Disclaimer: i dont own you or the Twilight Saga franchise, i do own the writing.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Im thinking of making a part 2! If i should lemme know! Also let me know who should be the true love!!

Part2

….

You let out a dry laugh as the scene unfolded in front of you. Now, him doing this to you, didn't surprise you. Hell, Paul was one of the more popular boys in college. Fraternities, parties, alcohol and sex seemed to be the one thing he was known for. When you two first met he totally posed as a good person. However after a couple years, a house and a baby on the way in the up and coming weeks he definitely seemed to have started to drift.

Oh, how about a round of applause, yeah

Standing ovation

Oh, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

"Don't leave! We can talk this out!" Paul chased after you, throwing on his robe. "Talk what out Paul?" You scoffed, throwing a couple of shirts into a bag. "I didn't mean it!" He huffed. "Oh, so you didn't mean to shove your dick repeatedly in her or…?" You looked at him. "If you leave we will never be able to fix this!" He said, exasperated. "Maybe I don't want to fix this."

You look so dumb right now

Standing outside my house

Trying to apologize

You're so ugly when you cry

Please, just cut it out

You tossed your phone onto the old bed. It was yours when you were 16… however you were far from 16. "Paul's outside." Your dad, Charlie, walked into the room. "Of course he is.." You scoffed. "Do you want to see him?" Charlie asked, scratching the back of his neck. Paul moved to where your window was, waving his arms around. You growled to yourself, as you opened the window. "I don't want to see you Paul! We can discuss anything but the child, but it's over between you and me!"

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Does Paul keep texting you?" Bella asked. "I only answer about the kid." You shrugged, sitting on the Cullen's couch. "Are you and the dog finally done-zo?" Rosalie asked, walking into the room. "'Fraid so." You said softly, pushing your hair from your face. "Least you'll get something out of the relationship." Rosalie said, a sour attempt at trying to make you feel better, but an attempt none the least.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

"I really feel bad crashing here." You sighed, however Esme hushed you quick, handing you a sandwich. "Nonsense. You're a sweet girl and we want to help anyway we can." You smiled as you took the sandwich. "You look like you haven't slept a wink." Esme said in a worried tone as she moved behind you to fix your hair into a clean ponytail. "I really haven't." You sighed as you ate some of the sandwich. "Do you have anything for us to do?" Emmett asked, walking over with Jasper. "I still need to grab clothes from the house." You finished the sandwich. "Say less."

Grab your clothes and get gone (get gone)

You better hurry up

Before the sprinklers come on (come on)

Talking' bout'

"Girl, I love you, you're the one."

This just looks like a re-run

Please, what else is on (on)

"Open up, Paul!" Emmett knocked on the door. "What do you need?" The tanned man asked, opening the door. Disheveled and shirtless. "We were sent to get clothes." Jasper said, pushing past Paul, up to the bedroom, completely ignoring the naked woman on the bed. "You never learn do you?" Emmett rose an eyebrow, grabbing a suitcase as they packed it full of clothes. "It's hard to keep your hands off of your real mate. You'd know Emmett." Paul said.

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Real mate..." You repeated what Jasper said. "I wasn't... you mean… oh my god." You let out a choked sob as you sat on the floor. "Emotions…" Jasper nudged Emmett as they walked out of the room backwards. "Oh dear..." Alice sighed, walking into the room, sitting on her knees next to you. "I assume you've found out something?" She asked, pushing stray hairs from your face. "He didn't love me." You said, the tears streaming down your face.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

You leaned your back against the cold wall as you looked forward. "You gonna get out of bed today?" Bella asked, sitting next to you onto the plush bed. "I gotta... I got work." You sighed. "Do you think I'll find my forever?" You asked, halfheartedly. "I think anyone can." She half-smiled at you. "Now you're dead- well, undead, with a husband for life and a daughter. I got a son with no one." You looked at your stomach.

Oh, and the award

For the "Best Liar" goes to you

(goes to you)

For making me believe

That you could be

Faithful to me

Let's hear your speech

"Please. Just hear me out. I couldn't control myself." Paul walked behind you as you walked through the isles of the store. "You slept with her and didn't even have the decency to tell me... for weeks this went on and I can't believe that you had Seth cover for you!" You kept a hushed tone as you turned your back towards him, putting a pack of newborn diapers in the cart. "I can't help that I don't love you the way I love her!" He shouted in the middle of the aisle. "I hate you." You said lowly, pushing the cart to the register.

How about a round of applause

A standing ovation

You sighed. "Thank you guys." You said, sitting on the bed. "No problem. We made the same one for Renesmee when she was born." Carlisle smiled fondly at you as he stood up. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here." You said. "You don't have to thank us. We love having you around. You're good people." He nodded at you. "Carlisle… do you think everything will be alright?" You asked, looking at him. "I know it will be."

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

Now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

But it's over now

[exclamaquest]

I'm going to say right off the bat that I am not actually too heated about this, I just thought it might be interesting to talk about if you're willing. If this is getting on your nerves just say so and I will never ask you about your Tsumugi take again. After all we are in the end just strangers chatting about a game :) ( I am so sorry to flood your inbox but now I'm committed to this so. Ignore the others if you want to! Also this is old news but I couldn't send for a few days so here I go.)

I would like to point out that Tsumugi, in canon, shares similarities with Hifumi (fiction>reality & fandom active). They were both played off as just weebs, except for Tsumugi's masterminding. Canonically, Hifumi would be as likely to be a gross creepy fan as Tsumugi- but obviously, thats dumb as shit and he deserves better. The thing im having difficulty understanding is why you would disregard canon's nonsense when it concerns Hifumi, but emphasize that aspect in your perception of Tsumugi.

If the masterminding is what villifies her, I could bring up Junko again or point to the ambiguity of the mm role- between V3's convoluted 'none of it was real!' and your clear apathy towards strict canon (which i totally support), I do not see a reason you wouldnt apply similar logic to that you used on the other characters I mentioned to Tsumugi instead of writing her off as a gross fujoshi or whatever. Im not trying to make you like her, but it seems unfair to reduce her to the worst possible traits she could have when you have expanded on and humanized so many other dr characters. (ugh i had to split the last paragraph into 2. im so sorry about that)

response under the cut bc this sucker got LONGGGGG

first off no need to apologize! i love discussion & dialogue and you bring up some good points! it's true i haven't talked about her in a very positive light on my blog, and that i've reduced her publicly. i HAVE done a lot of thinking about her and i agree that like.. i haven't expressed it on my blog as much as i have in private GKDSKGDS and mainly that's because like...i just don't think she's interesting. yes, she's complicated like any other dr character but she just...doesn't interest me. like, hifumi interests me because of the fanon him vs the canon him and how they differ rather strikingly.

however for tsumugi like...i can't really see a disconnect other than some people making her Only Evil and Only Ever Evil when in reality she's...very much being hurt by danganronpa too and she doesn't really grasp the full consequences of her own actions bc of it being normalized etc in the world she grew up in + her fandom-y lens, and you're right, it's a LOT like how Hifumi sees things through his lens of his special interest but also. he had moments where you saw through that shit to his genuine self. tsumugi...doesn't get that.

which i understand is partially because of her whole ough im so plain schtick but also like. they do manage to make some background characters interesting! like rantaro! you don't learn a lot about him and he dies really quickly but he's still compelling and you WANT to learn more about him. tsumugi is just...painfully uninteresting.

and honestly? i think she was a shit mastermind choice. again i realize im a hypocrite coming from a standpoint of liking junko, but i really dont think she makes a good mastermind. which i know is part of the point of her being the mastermind in the first place, but much like a LOT of v3's overarching themes, it falls flat. it really feels there's no real compelling reason for her to enact this other than she likes danganronpa etc etc etc and that she's got Fandom Brainrot (like a lot of the fans). idk.

and on the junko point--even without me changing her for personal interest, junko was ALREADY an interesting character. That foundation is necessary. If i find tsumugi boring, i cant ever expand upon her because it will always be boring to me, yknow?

and like again like...i DO try to see her as a fleshed out human--and i have tried to flesh her out. she's just...still uninteresting to me. and im sorry if it seemed like i hadnt, i just dont really tend to talk in depth about the characters that i find uninteresting

to sum it up sorry if my jokes seemed like my genuine interpretation of her character /gen, i have thought about her at length and i really just kinda don't like her for a whole lot of reasons but also me being petty GKDSKGDS i do appreciate the essay tho it's given me some stuff 2 think about & feel free 2 talk to me at any time i love writing shit like this even when it takes an assload of time.

[florencesmachine]

tell me what's going on

Why tumblr user donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is an embarrassment: a Masterpost

Hi if you’re here it’s because you’ve heard that tumblr user donottearmedown is an embarrassment and you’d like to know all the details! Let me break it down. It all started with this post by @minacarstairs (Tessa (yes @minacarstairs’s name is Tessa sorry if that makes this post confusing)), in which donottearmedown originally reached out to Tessa by sending her something along the lines of “Do you ship heronstairs/herongraystairs?” And Tessa replied with something along the lines of “Yeah lmao herongraystairs rights!”

(I wanna note that Tessa was being very polite, and continues to be very polite to people who disagree with her opinions on heronstairs/herongraystairs. She even began her original conversation with dont tear me down by saying it’s a matter of personal interpretation :) it’s donottearmedown who made the conversation mean-spirited)

(Also Tessa pls correct next if I’m wrong on any of this thnx)

And then sometime later, the conversation above ensues in which donottearmedown, seemingly perfectly reasonable at first, disagrees with the ship and offers a link to look at. (She throws this link around any chance she gets. She really fucking loves this link.) I got involved because in her answer, Tessa replies back with a link from a post I made from my own blog starting back in 2018, and then continued to add to it until my account got terminated (long story). You can read through both posts and check out all the replies! But basically we realized during this interaction that donottearmedown wasn’t looking to have a friendly conversation and was, in fact, batshit crazy. They were saying some absolute brain dead shit like that people shipping heronstairs is the same as people shipping Alec x Clary. Here’s the screenshot:

donottearmedown came back the next day to reply on several of Tessa and mine’s post which she wasn’t even tagged in, such as this one, and this one that had absolutely nothing to do with her because I make that same post every year. Here’s a screenshot from my old account last year via Instagram:

(there are more posts she replied to but I can’t be bothered to look for them, I’m sure you can find them on their blog if you can spare the braincells)

Racism by donottearmedown:

So, Tessa received this anon which tipped us off to some of the other tomfoolery on donottearmedown’s blog. We decided to look for ourselves and lo and behold, here’s the post of donottearmedown accusing Cassandra Clare of having a “Chinese kink” for writing Jessa:

Which, first of all, makes no sense because there’s like 2 Chinese characters in TSC total. If anything CC has a straight white boy kink lmao. But by saying this she was basically implying that the ONLY way Tessa (book!Tessa), or anybody who loves Jem, can love him is if they have a “Chinese kink”. Which donottearmedown can’t seem to be able to understand is an incredibly racist thing to say and think.

They also reblogged this BLM link and proceeded to tag it with absolute nonsense like “#smoke weed #lose weight #wessa”. I don’t know if her intentions were to mock the BLM movement but I still found this to be so incredibly disrespectful and tone deaf.

I also feel like I should mention this ask sent to Tessa in which donottearmedown implies she ~could be~ Asian, but it’s “none of her business anyways” (as if being Asian would absolve anyone of being racist akjsksjsj), but based on the fact that she has a track record of lying and pretending to be a person she’s not (as you will soon see :)) I call bullshit lmao:

I think that was the last of our interactions until today? Tessa and I were distracted because we have, you know, real lives.

But anyway, that brings us to today.

donottearmedown started replying to posts from mine and Tessa’s blogs which she wasn’t tagged in, again, and made several days ago. This one literally wasn’t even about her, it was about someone else that had engaged with one of Tessa’s posts. I made that post over a week ago and had already forgotten about it, but clearly donottearmedown never stops thinking about us 😳

NOW I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THIS POST SPECIFICALLY.

Why? Because donottearmedown and luciequeenofelfame (now luciehervndaie) interacted on this post, as 2 seperate entities. luciequeenofelfame had also interacted with Tessa and I’s original posts at the beginning of June (you can check the replies on the posts!) coming to donottearmedown’s defense, and praising her for her opinions and other shit like that.

Here’s the screenshot. As you can see here, luciehervndaie reblogs from donottearmedown and adds on to their opinion:

Now here’s the kicker: donottearmedown and luciehervndaie are the same person.

As in, this bitch literally made up a second blog so that she can pretend to be someone else agreeing with her own opinions and cheering herself on.

Here’s the proof:

I made this post calling out donottearmedown on their racism. I didn’t bother tagging her in the original post because I knew she was stalking my blog and would see it eventually anyway. 😌 And they took the bait, as you can see.

AND THEN I got the notification that luciequeenofelfame had replied to my post. Here’s the reply:

Now here’s where donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame made an oopsie! 😳

Notice where luciequeenofelfame says “1. I didn’t delete it lmao”. She’s responding to my tags on this post where I’m calling out donottearmedown on her racist post, and my tags read:

“#the fact you went and deleted this post because you KNEW you were about to get slammed #comedy”

(context: @wilhelminacarstairs looked on donottearmedown’s blog recently looking for the post I screenshotted in the link above, and he couldn’t find it so I assumed she deleted it so that I wouldn’t call her out on it. Although she claims she didn’t delete it, so! Maybe it’s still up! Feel free to look for it and let me know lmao)

Now, in the tags I am obviously talking to donottearmedown, correct? So then why is luciequeenofelfame replying that she didn’t delete anything? 🤔 AND JUST AS IM ABOUT TO REPLY-

Wow, looks like I can’t reblog the post. Why? Because luciequeenofelfame has deleted it, and then IMMEDITALY changed her url to luciehvrondaie, hoping it would cover her tracks. Little does she know, tumblr notifications are forever:

As you can see, donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehervndaie realized they made an oopsie, so she deleted her first response and posted it again from the blog she actually MEANT to post it from. Damn if only she knew that @minacarstairs @wilhelminacarstairs and I keep screenshots of e v e r y t h i n g :/ Then she might have gotten away with it! 😩

But yeah lmao here are the posts I made about it immeditaly afterwards calling her out on it because I thought it was funny: X X X X

She defends herself on some of them saying shit like “wow so I’m just making up blogs for support wessa? The majority of the fandom supports Wessa so I’m all of those blogs according to you? I’m thousands of people?!” Or just trying to change the topic back to heronstairs and ignoring the allegations altogether. Like, no luv we’re not saying you’re every single Wessa blog ever. We’re just saying you’re these 2, and we’re right lmao. If you look through both their blogs they also post about the same fandoms, and more damning, make a lot of the same spelling errors. Seriously their speech pattern is exactly the same. Feel free to look through them if you want, and if they don’t start mass-deleting post trying to cover their tracks.

BONUS:

I don’t know how true this is, but according to @fair-but-wilde-child on this ask, donottearmedown is ALSO the infamous twitter stan that complained to CC about TLH having too many gay characters.

EXTRA BONUS:

luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie (donottearmedown’s second account 😌) is the account responsible for that wessa vs jessa comparison chart that went around a while ago LMAOOOOOOOO embarrassing

tl;dr: donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is a biphobic racist who’s opinions are so bad she has to make a second account to agree with herself

🥺 tragic

Also I wanna say for the record, as @minacarstairs ans @wilhelminacarstairs will testify, I guessed a while ago these accounts were the same person when I noticed their speech patterns were eerily similar, and how luciequeenofelfame always seemed to reply to donottearmedown’s posts IMMEDITATELY after they were posted. 

So the lesson for today? Cinthia is always right. 😤

[dingobabywrites]

 so, in light of recent events, people have been discussing when they think Dean and Cas realized that they were in love with each other. While I 100% believe dean realized in purgatory, I dont think Castiel realized until Dean broke Naomi's connection.

BUT!!!!

I also think that is around the same time Sam realized it too. Obviously Charlie already knew ( " what about Castiel, he seems helpful and..Dreamy" she's a lesbian. That comment wasn't for Her!") I think Charlie was the one to point it out to sam and I think the two of them agreed to keep it to themselves since neither of those two would have been able to handle that information. So, I wrote a little thing about how I think it went down.

I also wanted to give myself an explanation for those wierd looks and mystery note from the end of the episode...so yeah...here's that.

Sam hobbled down the hall to the guest room, his hand still throbbing from knocking Dean unconcious . It was…worrisome, to say the least, that he was having this much trouble with healing from such a minor injury, not to mention the other things that were happening to his body; the fatigue, coughing up blood. Troubling, but, as much as he hated to admit it, worth it. Dean had been pissing him off more than usual lately anyway. It wasn't just the trials. Sure, he was frustrated with Dean for thinking he wasn't strong enough to handle them (he had fought against Lucifer in his own mind for christ's sake) but it was everything else too. His loyalty to Benny still didn't sit right with him. He had been so quick to kill Amy, just because she was a monster. He didn't care that she was just feeding her kid. She was just a monster to him. But for some reason, Benny got a pass. Sure, the guy saved both their asses, he was grateful for that, but even Bobby knew it was wrong.

And then there was Cas.

 

Sam wanted nothing more, than to tell Dean that he should have learned his lesson the first time with the Angel. It wasn't like he didn't like Castiel. Of course he did. He was appreciative of everything the guy had done for them. Dean was right that he had saved their asses more than once. It was just….at the end of the day, whether they liked him or not, Castiel had betrayed them. He understood that perfectly. What he couldn't understand, was why dean was so suprised by him doing it again. Hell, Dean had been the one to bring up that fact that the guy wasn't acting right since he got back and yet, there he was, praying to him, putting his trust in him again. It was maddening, to say the least. He had tried to talk to his brother about it, but Dean immediately shut down.

So, yeah, his hand was still hurting, but it was damn worth it.

He turned the corner to find Charlie stuffing her things into her duffle. He knocked on the door frame with his uninjured hand. "Hey, there."

"Sam." She half smiled, when she turned around, her eyes still a little bleary from crying. "Hi, I'm just…just packing up to head out and…" she sniffled and plopped down on the bed, covering her face as she began crying anew.

Sam walked into the room and pulled up the desk chair, sitting down in front of her. "Dean told me what happened, while you two were under." He said. "I am so sorry about your mom, Charlie." He placed his hand on her shoulder as she began crying harder. "I know how hard it is to let go like that…"

"Dean was right," she sniffed. "I needed to stop holding on."

Sam let out a bitter scoff and pulled his hand back, squeezing both hands between his legs. "Yeah, Dean's always right, isn't he? Too bad he can't follow his own advice."

Charlie looked up, her eyes sad and confused. "Holding on to my mom was the reason I was stuck there. If he hadn't made me let go, I would have died.we both would have."

Sam shook his head at himself, trying his damndest to let go of his own bitterness to be there for his friend. "Ya, I know. I'm sorry…just…I know you're hurting right now, I just want you to know I'm here for you."

Charlie sniffed again, wiping her arm across her face to dry it before leaning back and staring at Sam. "I don't get it." She said, as firmly as possible.

Sam, leaned back and shrugged. "Me neither, really. I always thought all djinn fed off happiness. It's like every time we figure stuff out, something new comes along to throw us off our game."

"Not that." Charlie said, waving his statement off. Sam looked at her, confused, not sure what she was referring to. She took a breath and pulled a book out of her duffle throwing it on Sam's lap. 'Mystery Spot' By Carver Edlund. "You say these books happened in real life. That everything written in them actually went down…but the past two times I've been around you guys…you certainly dont act like you do in the books."

Sam skimmed the first page of the book and chuckled, tossing it back on the bed next to Charlie. "Yeah, well, things have just been different, I guess."

"So, you used to love and support each other, no matter what and now you just, what? Stopped?" She asked.

"It's…" Sam scoffed and shook his head. "things are just, more complicated now…"

"You maybe, wanna elaborate there buddy?" She asked. "I may be a genius, but a mind reader, I am not."

Sam let out a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He figured it might feel better to at least get something off his chest. "To be honest Charlie, I dont think Dean is cut out for the job anymore."

"Why not?"

"His judgment, for one thing." Sam answered. "I don't know, just ever since he got back from purgatory… he's been…it's like he can't think straight anymore. He used to be no nonsense when it came to killing monsters and only trusting people he knew he could trust and now… I mean, I get it. Purgatory was rough on him, but the guy has literally been to Hell and back. I don't see why this time is any different."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked softly.

"I mean like, being friends with a freaking vamp." Sam answered, coldly. "Yeah, Benny wasn't like the others, and I get the whole 'brother's in arms' aspect, but it still doesn't make sense." He waved his hand, gesturing back at the book before letting it drop. "That Dean? That Dean would have never put his trust in a monster. That Dean wouldn't let people back into his life that had screwed him over, and now…I don't know, now it's like he just doesn't care about letting people in that who could hurt him, or…people who already have."

"So, it's not just about the vampire." Charlie said. "Who else has Dean been trusting that you don't think he should?"

Sam gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Cas really messed him up Charlie. I mean, the guy already turned his back on us once and Dean just let him back into our lives like nothing even happened."

"Ah." Charlie said, with complete understanding. "Okay, I get it now."

"Get what?" Sam asked.

"I get why Dean has been acting wierd, duh." She said, like it was obvious. Sam sat, staring at her, trying to peice together what puzzle she seemed to have completed. "Oh, my God. Do you really not see it?" Charlie laughed.

"Um, no?" Sam said, skeptically.

"Wow," she scoffed. "And here I thought you were the observant one." Sam waited for her to explain herself, still utterly lost on what she was talking about. "It's Castiel." She said, speaking to him as if he were a child.

"What about him?" Sam asked, hoping like hell that she wasn't talking about the angel brainwashing his brother or something.

"I've read the books, Sam." She said. "I know all about Dean's special Angel friend."

"No." Sam shook his head. "No, chuck stopped writing after Dean went to hell. There's no way you could have a read anything about Cas."

Charlie scrunched her face and bobbed her head back and forth. "Mmmm, not exactly." She reached into her bag and pulled put her laptop, turning it on. "Remember how I said the books were online now?" Sam nodded waiting for her to continue. "Okay, dont get mad," she said as she typed "but, he may have kept writing a little bit longer than you thought…."

"He what?!" Sam said, furious. They had told that dick to knock it off after that stupid convention."How long?"

"Relax." She said, scrolling through some page on her screen. "He stopped after you sacrifice yourself to Hell, actually. It was beautifully written by the way, super emotional, but no one has seen or heard from him since."

'Good!' Sam thought to himself. He felt a little bad for that thought, since Kevin was now the prophet it meant that the reason no one had heard from Chuck was likely because he was dead, but at least no one else could know more about their lives than they already did. "Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Dean? Why would Cas be the reason he's acting wierd?"

Charlie sighed, cringing to her self a little. "Well, as you already know, where there's a fandom, there's most likely fanfiction…"

"I'm aware." Sam said, peeved by the memory of stumbling upon the fanfiction written about him and Dean.

"Look, I'm not saying anything is definite, but alot of people who write fanfiction are really good at reading between the lines." She clicked her mouse a few times before closing her laptop and setting it back in her bag. "I mean, I've read all the books myself, and I totally know that you guys are real people and not some fictional characters, and it's completely not okay to speculate on your lives and feelings or whatever...but I mean, it's kinda hard not to see where they're all coming from."

"What are you talking about, Charlie?"

"Dean said that Benny helped him fight through purgatory, right?" She said. "He met him pretty early on in his time there, no?"

"Yeah," Sam said, still completely bemused, "I guess…Dean hasn't really talked a lot about what happened while he was there. He told me some things, but he never really went into detail."

Charlie nodded and shrugged sheepishly before continuing. "Okay, so he met Benny early on, and Benny told him he had a way to get back, right off the bat. So, why did it take them so long to get out of there?"

"Dean said he spent alot of his time searching for Cas." Sam answered.

"Exactly!" She exclaimed, like that should have been the answer.

"I'm sorry Charlie, I still don't understand what you're getting at here."

"Sam, he could've come back at any point after meeting Benny. They only spent as much time as they did together, because Dean wanted to bring Castiel back with him. Even after everything he did. Don't you think that's a little…suspicious?"

"That's exactly what I've been saying!" Sam said. "Why would he do that?!"

"Yeah, Sam, why?" She said, still trying to lead him. "Why would someone run back into a fire, when they have a way out? I mean, I think you, of all people, would know the answer to that."

Sam gaped at her in shock. It took a minute for him to register what she was implying, but once he did… "Charlie, that's…"

"Just a thought!" She defended before he finished. "I'm just saying that Dean doesn't normally put his trust in people. Except, maybe…the people he REALLY cares about and the people that protect them. Maybe there's more to the story when it comes to his trust in Benny than you thought. I definitely feel like there's more when it comes to Castiel."

"Charlie, come on." Sam laughed a little. " You know Dean. He's…"

"More complicated than people give him credit for." Charlie cut him off. "He also knows how hard it is to let go of the people he loves. He's actually really bad at it. Maybe, worse than you know."

"Charlie," Sam started, before being cut off once more.

"He's definitely more concerned about you than you think." Charlie said firmly, standing up as she did. She began packing once more, keeping her eyes averted from Sam's. "He's not trying to control you, you know. He raised you, Sam. You mean alot to him. You ever think for a moment that he's just really scared for you? Scared of losing you? I mean, back to my point, he is really bad at losing people."

Sam sat in silence, petulantly mulling over Charlie's words. She was right, probably. Dean may have been scared, but it was still possible that he just couldn't hack the life anymore. Sam wasn't some child. And the other stuff she was saying…she was way off base. There was a big difference between reading about someone's and living it.

"I sent you the link to the website I used to read the books." Charlie said as she zipped up her bags. She slung her backpack over her shoulder crossing her arms as she stared him down. "I know you lived through it all and everything, but not every part was about you. There's a few things you may have missed."

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen." Sam shook his head.

"Just a suggestion." She shrugged. "It might open your eyes to a few things you don't understand. I get not wanting to relive those times but…if you ever decide that's something you might wanna do, hit me up. I can tell you what chapters to skip, or whatever. And, if your really curious about Dean's relationship to Castiel, 'On the Head of a Pin' is a good place to start. The torture chapters are pretty rough, and I know you'll want to skip over your parts…but the other stuff.…" she shrugged.

"Okay." He said, at a loss for more words than that.

"You ready to roll?" Dean said, from the doorway, knocking on the door frame before entering the room.

"Looks, like it." Charlie smiled up at him as he entered.

"I didn't interrupt anything did I?" Dean asked looking between her and Sam with concern written all over his face. "You guys look a little spooked."

"Ew, gross, no." Charlie said, scrunching her face at Dean's implications. "Sam, was just helping me with my bags. Right Sam?"

"Uh, yeah…" Sam said, standing up and grabbing her duffle off the bed.

"Eh, come on, you know I'm just teasin ya!" Dean chuckled, jabbing her on the shoulder playfully. "He may have the hair, but the body parts are all wrong, right?"

"Definitely." Charlie agreed.

"Come on." Dean said, tilting his head toward the door. He waited for Charlie to leave the room, then cast a skeptical glance at Sam before following after. Sam was sure he was in for an earful after she left. He began dreading it as he said his goodbyes, anticipating the lecture as he told Charlie she was welcome to comeback at anytime. But it wasn't the only thing on his mind now. After bidding Charlie farewell, he went inside, giving the two of them their time alone. He hesitated for a moment, convinced that the trials were seriously messing with his head if he was even considering this. Then again…

He headed to the library, grabbing a peice of paper and a pen on his way and sat down. 'This is just stupid.' He thought to himself as he wrote down the words 'On the Head of a Pin'. He heard the bunker door open. Dean walked up, the look on his face telling Sam that it was time for his ass- chewing, so he decided to cut it off before it could start.

He clicked the pen closed and stood up, ready to defend his actions. "Okay, look you were right. I-I should laid low. I-I know." He said as Dean approached him."I should have hung back. I'm glad I was able.."

Then Dean grabbed him. Then Dean pulled him into a hug. It wasn't at all what he was expecting. He was lost, but relieved and hugged his brother back.

Dean chuckled and patted his back before pulling away. "What do you say we find our prophet?." Dean smiled, before smaking him in the chest and walking away.

Sam was left to himself, completely bewildered by what had just occurred. Dean had certainly not been acting like himself, but this was a whole new level. Maybe there was some truth to Charlie's words? Maybe he really was just scared? Maybe Sam really didn't know everything about his brother. Now, wasn't the time to think about that, though. Dean was right, the had to look for Kevin. They had work to do. Research.

But Dean had to sleep at some point. Maybe Sam could do a little light reading in that time.

If Charlie was right about Dean being scared for him, who knew what else she was right about?

[lifewithborderline]

I guess I'd like to know if you have any advice on how to get over people who clearly don't want you in their lives? Like a lot of the time I'm okay, but then I feel the urge to come back, probably because I have literally nobody (I'm very wary of people and as such not good at meeting new people, and the ones I meet I always drive away a few months down the line anyway) and that can be lonely, but it's clear that they wanted me to leave and have no interest in ever seeing my face or hearing anything I say ever again. All they had to say was "You'll crawl back anyway 🙄". Like they don't want me, they hate me at best and feel completely indifferent towards me at worst, they never reached out to me, didn't check on me, they surely wanted to leave me anyway. But some part of me is like "What if you're a dumb bitch and just misinterpreting everything?" and like I know that that part is wrong and just saying shit because it's lonely and wants to annoy these people again even though that'd be selfish because they don't want me there. Plus even if it weren't selfish, I'm in the second to last year of school which means that in a year they'll leave me anyway and never talk to me again and if I got back with these people now it'd hurt me in a year again.

Also I feel like maybe it's important to say that a lot of these fallouts I have with people aren't directly related to BPD (I mean, some are, but not all) but instead to a trigger. I mean, I don't know if I should call it a trigger since technically I don't have diagnosed PTSD or CPTSD, but they're just things that make me remember traumatic memories that affect me a lot to this day and that shaped me as a person, and when I hear the phrase that makes me relive those things I usually get all anxious and my heart starts beating faster and I get hot flushes and I feel like I need to run away, like I need to run away from everything and everyone close to that phrase or it will happen again, like the situation will literally be recreated in real time by these people sooner or later, so I need to run away before it happens, I need to run because I'd rather die than go through all that again. So to others I suppose it looks like I freak out, start crying, either get really angry or look absent and start saying some wild shit (to me the things make complete sense because they're directly related to the things I went through, but I think that it may sound off-topic or nonsensical to others) and then it devolves into me apologising for no reason (my default response to someone doing something to me or blaming me for something is to apologise. In my life I've just learned that that's the best course of action to minimise the harm, along with just being quiet and taking everything), and then I just leave. Usually I don't show myself there / around the people ever again if those people and the place aren't something I have to be around. If it's like, family or school, I usually don't show up for a few months, often I just tell my doc that I feel totally like shit and suicidal and she sends me to a psych ward for like 3 months. I never really told anyone any of that because it's embarrassing. People already think that I'm a lunatic r*tard for having ADHD (not making this up. A part of my family literally thinks that I should be locked away specifically for that, and when I told some of my peers that I have ADHD, they literally said "You're a r*tard ? But you don't look like one! I thought you were smart!"), I don't need people laughing at me because I have some memories that probably wouldn't make others feel the way I do.

I am so sorry that there are cruel people in the world. I could rant about how they are the very thing they are calling you but ill save my breath. First I'd like to point out that you do not need to be diagnosed with PTSD or CPTSD to have triggers. Trauma affects us. Our minds are sensitive and take a long time to heal. It sounds like your trauma leads you to have panic attacks. I used to have that happen to me a lot, its lessened out now so I have maybe one or two a year.

I understand what you mean when you say that the person seems like they don't want you in their life, I've had people do that to me. But in all honesty, its so much better that they aren't in my life. I went through ups and downs when I left/they pushed me away. And I wanted to come crawling back to them. They knew I would and they wanted that because my person was a manipulative b*#$%. I know your person might not be the same as mine but if they don't wanna be in your life then they don't deserve to have you. You are amazing. And no one should be able to take that away from you or make you feel less.

I know its lonely not having friends. I suck at making friends. When I moved across the country for this person and for school I had no one. The person treated me like dirt. And I had no friends. Then I moved home and was excited to have my old friends again. Only to see they didn't care anymore. They had made other friends and wanted nothing to do with me. So I get it. But keep trying to make friends. My biggest thing for me is to be open with people about my mental health from the start. That way you see who stays a lot quicker in than if you were to not say anything till you felt attached. It still hurts to see people leave after you tell them but it hurts less. I know there are lots of jerks in this world but there are a few golden people left.

Now to answer your question of how to get over someone who doesn't want you. It is hard. It won't be easy to clear the hurt but its possible. Talking about to someone and explaining all the emotions helps. But when you don't have anyone who will listen or don't have a therapist then writing out everything is the best option. Write a letter to the person and vent everything you feel. Then you can send it or burn it. I did that a few times, and I burnt the letters. Other ways are providing yourself with some self care. Find something that helps you think clearly and calms you. For me its sitting next to the river near my home or sitting in a hot shower for an hour. It can be anything you find helps as long as its healthy.

I dont know if I answered your question or not but basically it will take time but small things will ease the pain. Don't bottle feelings and be willing to forgive. Forgiveness takes time, im still working on it after 1.5 years. But it will happen.

Thanks for asking and if I can help in anyway im just a message away. ❤

[corvidry]

All About RP Icons For Beginners by Birdy

Hi OP, I’m not sure how experienced you are with all the nonsense surrounding the making and using of RP icons, so I’m gonna come at it as though you don’t have any experience with it at all and I’m sorry if that’s too simplified for you, but also if I’m gonna write many paragraphs about one topic I may as well make it accessible for as many people as possible ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This post goes into what tools are out there for the popular methods of finding/making RP icons in the first half and my personal methodology for choosing and using them in my RP for the second half. This is a very surface level answer to the question and is not meant to be an in depth tutorial for the more labor intensive aspects of the process, but if you guys want more information and can’t find it elsewhere, please ask and I'll know what I should be talking about next. 

Also I’m also contractually obligated to mention to the masses that I do take commissions both for the drawing of RP icons and the service of capping, cutting, recoloring, and framing canon icons. Sometimes I even post batches of canon character icons for free on this blog so like,,,,, hit me up if you want. But!! You don’t need me, you can absolutely do all of it yourself!!  I go into the broad strokes below.

Question 1: “How do you get icons?” 

This is kind of a broad question and the answer depends on what your needs are. The right answer for you is gonna live in one of two camps 

Find some that already exist that are free to use

Make them yourself / commission somebody else to make them for you. 

What you'll choose is gonna depend a lot on your character first and foremost.  The big determining factor in most cases is whether or not the face you want has been in anything you can take pictures of. 

If you have a canon character who exists in visible media--

--you're in luck! The chances of you finding some resources that exist already is higher when you have a canon character who is in at least a few pieces of media. OP asked about Pearl from Steven Universe, and she's a great example of a character with a lot of resources. Searching for rp icons of a popular character will often yield packs of icons on Tumblr, Dreamwidth, Livejournal, etc. Most of these will be completely free to use or have very reasonable conditions for use (like credit the person who made them for example.)  It's often a good first step to see what preexisting resources are available to you even if you still plan on making your own icons. 

If you have an OC or a character that's not all that popular--

--you're gonna fall into the second camp. If you want icons, you have to have them made. So what are your options?

Help! My character appears in no media! What are my options?

If your character appears in no media you're in a tough spot. Different people approach this problem in different ways. 

Face Claims

One option you have is to choose a face claim to represent your character. In roleplay a face claim or ‘FC’ is a person or character whose appearance you use for the physical description of your character. I personally am not big on doing this, I prefer drawn icons and I tend to RP as animated characters, but some people really like using celebrities and stuff to represent their characters.  When I was playing Angus McDonald he hadn't appeared in any visual media yet, so I sometimes used Bryce Clyde Jenkins as the face claim for certain types of threads.  

If you're somebody who likes to use face claims there are loads of resources out there for finding the perfect one, including here on tumblr. Try searching up RP Faceclaim Directory and playing around with some of the ones that pop up.

DIY RP Icons

The other option you have is to create those icons from scratch. Draw them yourself based on icons you like or commission an artist to draw some for you.   If you can't draw yourself, I've seen some people get really creative with this. Some people create their character in the sims, dollmakers, or their favorite RPG and then take screenshots of that to use for icons.  There's also no law that says every icon you use has to be your character's face. When I was writing a trashy mermaid AU I got a lot of mileage out of icons that depicted harbor and oceanic scenes with no actual faces. Get creative, go nuts, have fun.

Icons Aren’t That Important

The other thing to remember that icons are not a must in many RP circles. It's perfectly possible to have a great time and write cool stuff without any pictures at all. Depending on your platform of choice there are probably also other interesting ways you can make your posts unique to you by formatting the text or using symbols or emojis or otherwise denoting your personal style in text.

Help! My character appears in lots of media! How do I make icons?

Again, there are a million and one answers to this question and it really depends on what tools are available to you and what your preferences are. This section is not a tutorial but it will outline some of the options you can look into.

The icon making process is typically in 2 stages-- stage 1: get all your images of your character, and stage 2: edit all of those images into icons.  

If you have access to the source material, any version of Photoshop, and software that automates the collection screencaps from video (KM Player, VLC, etc) you're pretty much gucci. You're gonna have no problem getting loads of nice icons in a reasonably short amount of time and there are a million different tutorials on how to use those things whichever way you prefer. 

If you don't have access to those things you still have options. 

You can still screencap things manually, and you can screencap in batches by holding down the windows key and pressing PrtSc any time you want to save an image. They should be saving to >pictures>screenshots unless you’ve set things up differently. It’s a good way to take a lot of screenshots without stopping in between.

( EDIT / UPDATE: to say that if you use automation for taking screencaps remember to turn that shit off when you’re not using because it oh mylanta it WILL continue to take images without you realizing. Figured out where all my disk space has been going with this rookie mistake, thanks OP)

Additionally, PhotoScape X is a really great little tool for windows and mac that I've never seen anybody talk about, but I use it sometimes and it's totally free with the exception of a few paid features I’ve never once needed or wanted. This program is not as efficient as using Photoshop but it has presets for cropping images easily as well as batch editing options for some basic borders and color retouching.  While it’s not as powerful as Photoshop, you can get a lot done with it reasonably quickly compared to other choices. You can also take and edit snips of anything on your screen with it, which is really really useful if you don’t have access to the video or image files you would need on your hard drive for other version of this process.  The program looks like this:

Also, not to be like a minimalist about it, but you can also just fucken use Microsoft Paint or whatever you have. Like, whatever, there’s no law. You graphics dont have to be comlpex or deep fried. Half of my icons have been made or edited in paint at some point. It wont be as fast as some of these other methods but a lot of us aren't out here making icons in batches of 100 at a time. 

Anything that you can use to make smallish images of your characters face will work to make icons.

If you want more information about any of these methods of icon creation let me know and I’ll talk about them.

Question 2: “How do you make your icons ‘work’ in posts?”

I'm a little confused on what you mean by "make them work" so I'm gonna cover my bases here. I'm assuming what you're getting at is a sort of sense of cohesion in the icons I use, or having the "right" expression for the scene I'm writing. Either that or them not stretching and looking weird thanks to tumblr. I’ll get to both of those.

And before I go into my own rationale for icon choices I feel I should point out that a lot of people who aren't me do successfully manufacture cohesion out of their images by doing fun stylistic things like recoloring their images all the same way or putting cute borders and stuff around them or making them fun shapes, and that's totally something you can learn how to do if it interests you.  I do this for icons commissioned by other people and I’m not against talking about how to do those things, but I don’t really bother with them for my own icons all that much. That stuff is all fun and it’s a neat thing you could get into that can make your icons all look really nice together.

BUT ANYWAY --

Since the character you asked about is Pearl, I’m going to focus on her. Nearly all of my Pearl icons are completely unedited and a lot of the credit I would have to give regarding icon quality goes to Pearl herself and the consistently good lighting that the show uses. I don’t have a huge need for editing or color retouching beyond making memes or whatever other goofy things I might be getting up to. Pearl is extremely expressive compared to other characters I have written and since she's in nearly every episode, I've managed to collect…

...oh god, that’s too many icons.

Pearl is a main character and I've been RPing as her for over 6 years now so I have a fuckload of images to choose from and I'm not gonna pretend that doesn't help when I wanna “make things work”. She gives me a lot of options.

That said, you absolutely don't need 3000 images to make a good post. The way I've collected and organized these images may be of use to you even if you dont have as many icons. I've done a lot with my setup to make finding the right icon very easy. 

For starters, a minor subset of my Pearl icons are grouped by a particular defining feature. I have one large Pearly folder full of icons and then a few smaller folders inside for icons I thought worth grouping separately. For example, all icons of SUF Pearl in her new jacket are in the same folder. All icons of Pearl in short term alternate outfits are in the same folder. Anything I sourced from Attack the Light is in its own folder. I do this with anything that has a very specific use, such as writing AU content or flashbacks to specific time periods. If I can picture an icon in my head, I usually know where in my ridiculous hell collection to go to find it. 

This folder was originally just for her pre-canon outfit but now all of her outfits that only appeared temporarily are in there.

Perhaps more important for the sake of cohesion is that nearly all of my icons that aren’t squirreled away in some smaller folder are loosely arranged by episode. What that means is that most of the time I have icons from the same scene right next to one another. It makes it incredibly easy to make my RP replies appear as though it's all one cohesive scene even if I use more than one icon. When you do it this way it becomes very easy to choose icons that have the same lighting or that appear to lead from one expression seamlessly into another. Exhibit A:

While the vast majority of my icons are numbered, I do take the time to name ones I find myself using a lot or that have particularly unique expressions. Usually I'll choose names that I'll find descriptive or easy to remember based on the context of the icon. You can have a lot of fun with that and never lose your favorites.

Also don't be afraid to lean on icons you got from weird places if you like them.  The icons of Pearl from the official comics run don’t look like most of what I have. I think them being different would turn a lot of RPers off, but I use them a lot because I like the style and I almost never see other Pearl RPers using them.  It either makes me stand out or it makes me tacky, one of the two, haven’t figured out which, but also I’m not stopping.

And just to reiterate, you can use icons that aren’t your character if they’re thematically relevant or vague enough to look like them. When I’m capping I’ve started saving a folder of miscellaneous environments of interests, hands, and other everyday types of scenery that appear in the thing I’m taking screencaps of.

You can use any size you want for RP icons but the most common is 100x100 or 150x150 pixels.  Any smaller than that and the image gets to be difficult to read and work with in my opinion. That doesn’t stop people, of course, but I’m elderly and need glasses now, so no tiny icons for me.  On that note, I rarely see RP icons larger than 300x300. Any larger than that it tends to get bulky and be in the way of other people’s comfortable internet browsing experience, especially on mobile.  Of course, these are just my suggestions. What you choose will ultimately be up to you, but somewhere in that 100 to 300 px range is pretty safe.

A very tumblr specific thing to know is that any image that is wider than 300 pixels will be stretched to hell, so you probably want to keep it smaller than that.

Thanks, Tumblr, I hate it!

Also, don’t be afraid to make trash images for fun if you’re so inclined. People love that, or at least I do. Not having the right icon can be fun and lead to a very silly solution. Lean into being a shitposter if that’s what you’re called to do. 

So yeah, that’s basically what my suggestions are. Collect your images in a way that helps cohesion and ease of use. Keep them a good size. Don’t be afraid to get unconventional with your choices or make memes or whatever. It’s all for a fun time.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now, but more info on any of this can be obtained at the price of one ask, I know it was a lot of different moving parts.

[atilla-da-honey]

Dragon age fans!

Tell me your unique/wierdo Dragon Age head canons! Gush about your Warden's/Hakwe's/Inquisitors! If you want, tell me a little story/ficlet about your characters or OTP's!

I just want that jucy DA content. I don't care if its off the rails bullshit crazy, completely and utterly mundane or tropey and cliche, if its Dragon Age and you wanna talk about it I WANNA LISTEN. Can be your canon's or just an idea you like!

Feel free to tag people!

I'll go first! (This turned out longer than I meant, you can legit just write a short sentence summary i don't care)

"Treya Lavellan was First to her clan as a child. It was super stressful for her because she wasn't magically powerful enough to keep up with the needs of the Clan but at the time she was the only option so it was her duty. She felt extremely insecure and embarassed about her lack of talent and was frequently tired and iratable as she constantly pushed herself to the point of exhaustion.

When Treya was 17, the Clan was approached by a city born elf woman and her son. The son was a mage and the mother said that Templars had been known to kill mages from Alienages rather than go to the trouble of taking them all the way to the circle. She had hidden him for years but her husband discovered the magic recently and wanted the boy out. They had several other children and she couldn't leave them, but she had heard that the Dalish do not fear magic and she begged Deshanna to take on her son Maharial. He was only 15 and had a lot of magical potential, and Dashanna considered it to be a great blessing.

Treya was...conflicted.

It was soon apparant that this flat eared child was going to end up replacing her. After years of training, of struggeling to pick up even the basics, he came in like an eager little whirlwind and blew everybody away with how quick and capeable he was. Magic was so easy for him, but more than that he was charming, soft spoken and polite where Treya was thought to be something of a no-nonsense hardass, something her near constant exhaustion didn't help.

He dedicated himself to The creators, he ate up her Pape's stories abiut the glory of Elvhenan and The Dales, he deffered to the wisdom and advice of the Haren with dignity and grace.

And Treya HATED him for it.

She didn't want to. She knew she was being jelous and unfair and that he was an elf and had every right to claim his place amoung the people. She even knew that he was far, far better suited to the role of first than she would ever be.

But she still hated him for it.

One day she lost her patience. She, Deshana and Maharial were seeding the grounds with their magic to clear the hidden paths so the Aravels could move. It was a task she had been performing since her magic manifested at 6, and it was a long, sustained spell that they would have to hold for hours at a time.

Maharial noticed her flagging and innocently started giving suggestions on how to better apply the spell in order to better concerve her mana and she lost it.

"I don't need your fucking input you pushy, obnoxious flat ear! I have been first of this clan since before you even knew it was possible for an elf to have dignity!"

Everybody froze.

Treya knew she'd fucked up. She knew it. But she was proud and insecure and stupid and so she doubled down.

"What? I'm not going to sit here and hear advice falling from a mouth that has probably spent more time sucking human dick than -"

*SLAP*

It wasn't Mahanon. Or Deshanna.

It was her Pape.

Her soft, gentle Pape, who kept the hearth and sung their history to the Clan. He had never once raised his voice at her, and he did not do so now.

"Treya, First of Lavellan, Daughter of mine and apprentice to our Keeper, you will apologise to this boy this instant."

Treya was numb.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She fled.

In the end, it was Mahanon who found her. Her father had advised to give her some time and reassured him that he was one of them and that she was out of line. It was kind.

He knew The First didn't like him but she usually just kept it to a frosty silence.

He found her crying, her staff cast aside and her head hidden in her hands. She wouldnt meet his eyes.

"I don't know why I said that." She whispered softly.

"You hate me." He said with a shrug.

"I dont mean to. I dont even want to. You just....showed up one day, and you are better at things I've been trying to master my whole life. The clan loves you effortlessly."

"So you're what...jelous? Of me? Thats... ridiculous. Its not effortless." He sat down next to her. For once he looked as exhausted as she did. "You realise you're not the only one who hates me because I'm from a city right? Not three nights ago I heard Haren Loril trying to talk Deshanna into giving me the boot. Says my lineage is in question, whatever that means.... Mother told me to do everything in my power to be accepted. To be exactly as they want me to be. But im not like you. Im not serious and sensible, I don't know how anything here is susposed to work and you are unlike any elves I have ever known. I don't know how to belong here. So I say what I think they want to hear. That I love living here, that I don't miss the alienage...that I never believed in the Maker anyway and all your elven Gods give me courage and hope.

But its not true. I'm tired Treya. I miss my family and I want to go home. Void, I'd happily suck a human cock if I could just go home. But I can't.

You idiots already taught me to value freedom above all else. I'm not going to let some templar kill me or drag me to a circle just because I couldn't get you lot to like me."

She felt even more shame. It was easy for her to forget that he didnt materialize out of thin air with the express desire to ruin her day, that he'd come to the clan seeking their protection.

She was a poor First.

"I don't want you to die or to go to a circle." She said, tentatively.

"Thats an incredibly low bar, but I'll take it." He returned with a tired smile.

"I'm....sorry. About what I said. About what a shit I've been. It must have been difficult to leave your family and I certianly didn't make you feel welcome."

"Yeah you've been a bit of a total bitch." He said with a wide grin. "But you know, winning over the clans terrorfing First who hates me would make a great impression on the others. What do you say, do over?" He reached a hand towards her, his eyes met hers with a lot more uncertainty than she would have expected.

"Yeah. Ok. Do over."

Eventually, Mahanon did take Treya's place as First. By the time it happened she could admit that it was a relief. She made a far better apprentice to the War Leader anyway."

[q-u-a-c-k]

rant that you can just skip over 😂 it's just detailed intrusive thoughts. and I'm continuing to rant about literally everything that goes through my brain so I am here writing this and not acting on thoughts or being stupid.

okay so this is a note from after I have written all that. and basically it's complaining and ranting about everything and hyperfixating on space and science in the end. in the middle I talk about my fears of love 😂 potentially triggering stuff? it's all nonsense you really dont have to read it. it was just to keep myself from doing something I shouldn't. so if you could be triggered by literally anything maybe dont? idk. I cant stop you but it's probably annoying and not interesting. if anyone does read it though let me know if I need to tag it anything.

So my brain has now decided that because there is no way I am sleeping tonight unless it's exhaustion, I get intrusive thoughts. fun! so rn it has been fixated on the fact that because I am closest to the outside. not hall door. that I could easily sneak out. which is very much not good idea, because 1) I dont live in this area, 2) it's still cold as fuck outside at night, 3) I would literally fucking get lost or caught immediately. So yeah :) I dont even know what I would do if I did go and I don't want to because I have an idea of what brain would say and that's a big no. it's especially big no because I'm too comfortable with the idea of it but I'm not allowed to. and I guess now it's kinda good because brain is thinking about how I miss my cat. I just wanna see my baby and be in my safe place with the people I'm actually comfortable with (cat and phone with online friends) like guys he's so fuckung adorable and what if he doesnt know why I'm not there right now. usually he sleeps in my room at night. so what if he's in my room waiting for me and I cant go see him. you're damn right that I'm crying about this. i just want my baby because he is my baby and an indicator of a safe place.

also I am so incredibly fucking uncomfortable. like I cannot sleep because 1) in a place I do not know 2) there are people (family) in the room that I am not comfortable letting my guard down around 3) there's so much noise from snoring (and from one sleep talking) 4) I am on the couch because when we go places I'm always the one who has to and it's a shitty pull out bed couch. it makes way too much noise that I have been in an uncomfortable position for over 3 hours because I dint want to disturb anyone else. and I can very easily feel like of the metal bars under the middle of my back 5) I am very cold. I forgot a blanket and I didnt get one because the room only gave us one extra one (I dont think we're supposed to have an extra person) ad my sister got it even though I'm the one by the outsid,door, window, and air conditioner which wont turn off. I at least have my flannel though to cover my legs 6) my head hurts so bad because it's the kind of headache that hurts to have eyes open, breath, or move around in general 7) my stomach hurts so bad because I had to eat because apparently people get hungry and are supposed to eat along with anxiety from literally all of this 8) I have not gotten to be alone for more than 10 minutes since the middle of Wednesday whereas usually I spend almsot all of my time alone (with cat and phone with online friends) in my safe place. 9) I have not stopped crying (not really like crying crying but like there has been tears or water from my eyes because for some reason they burn and some because of anxiety or missing cat. 10) I keep thinking that at any moment I close my eyes someone is going to break into the room or one of my family members are gonna do something (I literally dont know what, that's intrusive thoughts talking but I have previously freaked out because I thought they were gonna aliven't me for no reason) 11) When I'm somewhere I'm not used to I get really bad muscle cramps in my arms and legs and I am not having fun with that.

sorry that was a shit ton of complaining that nobody should have read or give a shit about. so sorry if anyone actually read that?

also Allison, if you actually do read this (istg you really dont have to. like I said this is just my train of thoughts written to prevent me from doing anything. I am not watching wandavision until later today 😂 and I am staying off the discord server I joined becuas of potential spoilers.

anyways continuation of rants and complaints. I really want to put the phone down and attempt to sleep even though I know I'm not gonna be able to and for that reason I have to write here because I do not trust myself with my brain being like this rn. but I wanna put phone down so bad because my eyes hurt and my head hurts from having eyes open.

and I really wanna just get my earbuds out and have controlled noise and potentially fall asleep but that would take noise louder than them to drown them out but any noise already is hurting my head and earbuds sound really uncomfortable right now.

also I'm starting to get really cold again because the flannel was working for a little but I think that was because I had to move a little bit to get it out and on my legs and I haven't been moving.

also my sister (sleep.talker) has been just making noises and mumbling all night except just now she went "eww" and rolled over and continued snoring and sleeping. so that's fun. totally didnt scare me.

oh my God it's fuckung almost 3:30 I just wanna sleep. at this rate I dont care in what way it happens, but I want sleep in the next 10 minutes so I cannot be aware of how uncomfortable or in pain I am.

my back (which usually already has back pain) connot stand to lay on the bar in this position anymore so I have to move but it's so loud and I dont wanna wake anyone up or move into a worse position but feel bad for moving.

I have now moved and I dont THINK I woken anyone up. back is better but head hurts so much more now because of movement and I am now laying on my knee which I have a lot of problems with and am not having a fun time.

idk what to talk about. I want sleep or to at least put phone down but like I said multiple times I do not trust my brain rn so I have to keep writing stuff. and I dont want to just keep complaining but idk what to talk about and complaining is easiest rn because I was out in an uncomfortable situation by coming with them and I didnt want to in the first place but would not be able to stay home.

I am now gonna talk about sleep and my thoughts about it. I like being asleep but I also dont. I like being not awake but most of the time do not like the dreams I have. but sleep itself is such an interesting concept. like the body forces itself to shut down and put you unconscious to like rest itself or repair before continuing to function. and it's like (supposed to be) on a specific or close to schedule. like youre supoosed to have a schedule for when you're unconscious. and this is completely normal. a part of our society is actually shaped around this too? like at certain times around the world it gets all dark and the world goes quiet for a while. idk I just think it's really interesting. maybe it's not idk lmao.

and now brain wants to talk about how and why I am afraid to love. :). brain is afraid to love because that means I have to be vulnerable to someone and that's just so terrifying to do, especially being someone who is different than a lot of the heteronormative society. like I absolutely love my friends. and once I'm comfortable around them, I'm gonna tell them that I love them as much as I can (but also dont want to make them uncomfortable). because if I finally feel comfortable enough around you to be vulnerable and accept that I love you despite brain's overwhelming urge to say I don't and be invulnerable and safe, I'm gonna tell you that as much as I can that I love you. because it literally happens so little in my life that I actually really trust someone. so if I tell you I love you I mean it (and it tells you I trust you). like seriously, I barely even say it to my mom because I'm so on guard and trying to watch my back around her. and I dont think I say it to the rest of my family. unless it's my grandparents I'm gonna tell them that because I think I do just in a different way of your my grandparent and you're family. and I occasionally say it to my irl best friend because there's still a lot I'm on guard about because I haven't told her a lot of things so we're not as close as you'd think. but if you're reading this I have probably told you i love you. and i know Allison i tell you as much as i can because I think yyou'rethe absolute top person that I trust and love, so i try to tell you a lot. because I love you!! you're like my entire found family 😂

but now we're gonna talk about reasons why I'm terrified to be in love romantically. Because I dont think i have actually liked someone romantically or really ever be romantically interested in anyone. I have thought about it because I felt like I had to tell myself I was ( I was not). like i thought I had a crush on someone once but I think it was because I was unable to be their friend at the time that I wanted to be their friend even more. and because I never really got to pick my friends I didnt know what it was like to actually want to be friends with someone. but thinking about someone romantically I just cant really do. because I don't want to get into a romantic relationship if I don't know if I'm gonna like them romantically at all. do people like people romantically when they first go out with someone? or do they just say I kinda like this person let's try it out? because that just doesnt make sense to me and idk. and it could very well be that I'm just to young to know yet. because I still dont even know what I would want from a romantic relationship. like... Idk what there is for me to want or what's different to loving your friends besides calling them something else? and the whole having to trust that this person likes you in a specific way that you might like them before you take it far enough and get hurt because they just don't feel the same? or you're the one that's not really sure and potentially hurt someone else? I know people say it's just a risk you're gonna have to take but I dont want to take a risk like that. I dont mind being hurt from it myself but in terrified at the thought that I could potentially hurt someone because I just dint feel a certain way. and I still dont know what the difference is between friend love or romantic love to be able to judge or risk that? like seriously what is different? because I mean, maybe affection like have someone to hug or cuddle? but you could do that with friends and it should be a normal thing to have with your friends. but ig this still is a fucked up society that thinks everything has to be more than what it really is. and it just leaves people touch starved because of it. idk. maybe one day I'll figure it out, but how it's just Greek and foreign to me. idfk.

well that was fun. now it's 4 and I need something else to talk about because even if I do potentially fall alseep soon, I do not want those to be my last thoughts and possibly have dream about it (dreams for me are typically not good).

I think I see the moon. it's either a moon or a parking lot light. and I know the moon is either full or very close to full (I'm pretty sure it's just very. close) but I wish all of those lights outside were off and possibly have a new moon so I could see the stars. I love the stars so much. i love the moon, too, but right now it's very bright. but I wish I was more into astronomy and knew more about it. because that's also something that's very interesting to me is space and the stars. I wanna be someone who knows about all of the constellations. but I have a horrible memory and absolutely would not be able to remember 88 different stories. although I'd want to. even though most of them or a bunch are just Zeus being a dick. but more to the science side of the stars is so interesting to me that they're soooooo far away. like they're literally incomprehensibly far away. like I cannot comprehend how big a football field is without see one, I'm agine being able to comprehend the distance of light years? like I know we know how far it is but I'm pretty sure human minds cannot comprehend how far that ACTUALLY is. even if we know it's a LOT. and isnt it cool how we're able to know there are other planets outside of the solar system? I believe it's 4 different planets that we know of that are MORE inhabitable than earth. like better to live on. and they have either older or stronger stars that wouldn't die out as fast as our sun. although there comes the debate of if we should be able to go to them. it's a very debatable question, but I think overall the answer would be no. because humans have fucked up an entire planet, why should we be allowed to do it to another? like it realize it's literally a percent of humans that fucked it up for the rest of the planet, but humans have an inner need to have power over everyone else and other things and would stop at nothing to get what they want. humans could so easily become corrupt and destroy other planets too. it's kind of a fucked up thing to say, but I feel like maybe humans should die out with our planet. like of course it's not fair to the ones who haven't had the chance to live a life yet. but it was never fair to the other creatures humans killed for their own needs. like we have caused extinction several times. karma will get you back in the end ig. and it would be cool to know but obviously we wouldnt be able to know, if a species even smarter than humans evolved and kept the peace on earth, even as the ruling species? ruling sounds wrong but idk what else to call it. whatever we are above everything else is what they would be. but it would be so amazing to know what smarter beings are alive or could eventually live. like that's so fucking cool.

anyways I should probably try to sleep or put phone down because now brian doesnt have time to let me do anything I shouldnt. it's 4:30 😂 someone is probably gonna wake up soon because idk.

[commentaryvorg]

An anon sent me a series of asks to my main blog, but since they mentioned my commentary a few times in it, I feel like it'd be more appropriate to consider them commentary asks and answer them here. Hopefully anon still follows this blog too and will see this!

Dude I watched a complete playthrough of the drv3 a while ago and I just realised what was fucking me up about Kaito's: in his "ultimate fantasy" or whatever, he doesn't think his crush will return his feelings. Right now I think that's to do with his issues with close relationships that you brought up in your commentary, but do you have any other ideas?

thinkin about my earlier ask about kaito's love suite event ... does the dream continue for him when he leaves the room? cause if it does, it likely ends with his ideal turning out to reciprocate his feelings which is kind of sad because of the friendship issues you mentioned in your commentary, but if it doesn't continue afterwards it means he so thoroughly believes that his friends (/fantasy rival) dont care about him beyond his ability to be inspiring that he cant imagine it even in his ideal

WAIT is momota's ideal, a rival, someone who doesn't have the same expectations of him to be strong that a sidekick would have?? like yeah there are some expectations of always being ready to compete and all that but it's more an expectations out of spite deal than expectations to be invincible ideal. for them to even be properly competing a rivalry has to be somewhat close to equal: momota mentions he and his rival being at a complete tie, so his rival doesn't expect him to be invincible.

sorry i keep sending you asks about the love suite event, i read a post recently about momota not believing his ideal would return his feelings and i can't stop thinking about it

So, uh, this has been a bit of a ride for me.

Fun fact: Kaito's Love Suite event was, until today, the one bit of canon Kaito content I had not seen and had no intention of ever seeing. As you can very much gather from all my grumbling about amatonormativity in the commentary, particularly in the first post for Salmon Team, I do not like it when romance gets unnecessarily shoved into my adorable friendships and my characters who usually prioritise friendship over romance. If Salmon Team had not also been heteronormative on top of its amatonormativity and had therefore shoved romance into every character's scenes, including the guys', I wouldn't have covered Kaito's Salmon Team content at all. It’d be the same as how I didn’t cover Kaede’s FTEs because they’re pretty romantic; I'm just not remotely into that, and when such content does exist, I'd rather skim over it and think about anything else. So any of Kaito’s content that really actually was a victim of this mode’s amatonormativity (and let’s be real, while the Love Suite scenes are available in the main story, they really shouldn’t have been and should just be considered Salmon Team content) was not something I ever even really wanted to see in the first place.

The entire concept of how the Love Suite scenes work also makes me deeply uncomfortable even aside from the part where it's glaringly just a cheap excuse to throw in some unneeded romance. The subject has a dream where they act out their ideal fantasy at Shuichi, except Shuichi is awake and conscious and will remember it, and the subject doesn't know this? And Shuichi apparently has to play along and do what they want him to do, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes him, or they'll "have a bad dream" or something, as if their comfort matters more than Shuichi's does? That is massively violating the concept of consent for both people involved here. Ugh. Ughghghgh. And from the handful of scenes I have actually seen (which is admittedly not the worst ones), the writing does not remotely acknowledge how gross and fucked-up this is and just plays it like it's totally okay. Ugh. No.

Of course, there was a small chance that Kaito's scene was an exception to this nonsense and actually had something interesting going on in it that I'd like to see (Rantaro’s and Ryoma’s are actually pretty interesting, from what I remember!). So I had my friend antialiasis, whose judgement I trust on these kind of things, read Kaito’s scene before me and give me a summary. The topic of it seemed kinda fun albeit not especially deeply interesting, but then she described it as "not textually romantic but pretty clearly trying to be shipbait". So I pulled a big Nope on that and decided it wasn’t worth it and I'd be happier never seeing the scene after all.

It was therefore very deliberate of me that I completely ignored the fact that this scene even existed for my Salmon Team posts. I was kind of quietly hoping nobody would notice or care - and I told myself that if someone did care and asked me what I thought about it, they'd have to make a very convincing argument for it being relevant to Kaito's issues for me to decide it’d be worth me cringing my way through the romantic undertones to see the issuey part.

And, well, congratulations, anon, I guess you basically just made the impossible possible, because I went and read it just now.

Aaaaaand it was even more eye-rollingly shipbaity than I was expecting it to be and really not worth it for me at all.

Not that this is your fault, anon! I am not mad at you and there's no need to apologise. I'm really happy that you cared so much about my input on this, not to mention very impressed that you did manage to convince me the scene might be relevant enough to Kaito's issues to catch my interest. I'm also thrilled that you're using ideas you learned from me about Kaito's issues to have been thinking about this yourself even with parts I never talked about! That's exactly the kind of thing I hoped my commentary might do for people!

I'm just mad at the game's writing for being a huge fucking disappointment. Please rest assured that any frustration I express here is entirely directed at the game.

Long story short: I'm not convinced this is a legitimately well-thought-out piece of character writing for Kaito that actually has any deliberate connection to his issues. It just reads to me like whoever wrote it saw the Love Suite thing as an excuse to throw in something shipbaity and romantically-undertoned involving Kaito, and they decided that someone like him would work best with the stereotypical "rivals to lovers" trope, so they just threw together a scene about that.

There's no reason to buy that Kaito's "ideal fantasy" would even be with a romantic interest in the first place. He's literally not shown giving the slightest fuck about romance at any other point in his story! Romantic relationships are not inherently the highest relationship ideal (any claim that they are is amatonormativity speaking and needs to go away), and Kaito in particular definitely seems to be someone who would understand that.

It is interesting to think that Kaito's idea of his relationship ideal could be a rival - someone who's essentially more of an equal to him than a sidekick. All the points that you make on that topic are really great and insightful, and that’s what made me want to check out the scene! But then the scene just goes and shifts to being all about how Kaito has very-obviously-implicitly developed romantic feelings for this rival, and ugh no no no this is not the point and not necessary. If Kaito really did subconsciously think of a rival as being his ideal relationship, someone who's his equal and to whom he doesn't have such a huge responsibility to never let down, that alone would be the point, and his subconscious wouldn't go and then make it about romance!

If this scene is about Kaito's issues as you propose, then it’s as if the writing is trying to insist that Kaito subconsciously knew that he needed to have this arguably more healthy, essentially-equal relationship in order to be able to achieve romance, because romance is obviously the highest goal and what he's really wanted all along and if only he got over his issues then he’d be able to have that in reality! and NOPE nope nope nope that's amatonormative and tedious as all hell and get that bullshit away from Kaito. (The actual "ideal" relationship Kaito should be striving for, though he wouldn't understand this himself, is something like the one I talked about at the end of Salmon Team, in which he's learned to open up to Shuichi and ask for his help too and they are friends and equals who support each other, and that doesn't need to involve romance to be an ideal end goal!)

But also, because the writers of this scene are being so eye-rollingly amatonormative about things, I'm not convinced they even actually thought as deeply as you have about the implications of the rival thing. If they understood Kaito's issues about heroes and sidekicks and friendship to that extent, then they'd probably also be able to grasp the idea that romance isn't the goddamn point here.

So, yeah. You're free to continue to interpret it the way you've been doing if that floats your boat, anon, but my take on it is just that I don't think the writers cared.

I'd also like to throw out there, while I'm here being a Grumpy Aro about things, that someone not expecting their crush to reciprocate their feelings isn't that sad and tragic, at least not from where I'm standing - it's just sensible. Sure, platonic affection is expected to grow naturally through shared experiences and hangouts, to the point that someone feeling like their friend doesn't consider them a friend in return is tragic and probably rooted in some kind of issues. But while romantic attraction can sometimes arise, from all sorts of interactions, it’s never a thing that should always be expected to do so, and it literally can't happen in certain orientations a lot of the time. Not expecting romantic feelings to be reciprocated doesn't have to be related to any kind of lack of self-confidence; it should be the norm. It's just statistically unlikely that they would be.

Like yeah, sure, obviously most people with a crush would like it if it was reciprocated, and so there's no harm in asking. But if the other person doesn't reciprocate, then it's not their fault and not their problem, and it's also not the first person's fault for "not being good enough" or anything like that. That's an attitude that I wish I saw more of outside of aro circles, and it's also something that I'm pretty sure Kaito would already understand and agree with. Respecting other people's autonomy, acknowledging that they exist as their own person outside of how you feel about them and not making their lives about you are all principles that are already a big part of how Kaito treats others, in any context.

[follow-up post to this]