#and it's not their fault!!! it's my fault for expecting someone to understand exactly what im saying when i say it

[mainfaggot]

the last time i felt emotionally fulfilled in a friendship was when i was 15, and before that when i was 13. im turning 21 next month

[bo0zey]

being the oldest daughter raised by a narcissistic emotionally abusive father is just…👩‍🍳👌💋

[psychological-musings]

Honestly I think this could have used an extra button for "No; I've helped people cope with suicidal ideation before, but I never felt guilted/coerced into it" based on a lot of responses in the notes. (Obviously the submitter can't think of every possible poll outcome, I'm not trying to say it's bad that the option isn't here— just that it's an interesting conclusion that that's a pretty common thing people are saying)

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[cafelattaes]

afterglow | zcl

summary: in which you felt fed up with chenle and walked out after a fight, but you were uncertain whether he’d make an effort to save your relationship.

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

you were having an argument with chenle. you tried to tell him that you felt a little uneasy about one of his female friends, but he downplayed your emotions and it irked you.

"don't you think you're being unfair?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice. "you're allowed to be jealous of every single person you think is hitting on me, but i'm not even allowed to feel upset that you have a close friend who obviously likes you?"

chenle responded dismissively. "it doesn't matter if someone likes me. all my friends know i'm head over heels for you. besides, none of my friends have openly told me they like me. i can't say the same to you and your so-called guy friends."

"i already rejected him," you countered, your voice rising. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"it doesn't look like you did because he's obviously still expecting something from you." he retorted, crossing his arms.

"i don't know how else to convince you. why do you always do this? every time i try to tell you how i feel, you always find a way to somehow turn it around on me, and it ends with you feeling more upset than i am."

"look, you don't need to worry about me. i couldn't care less about anyone who might like me. but you? you're too soft with that friend of yours. you might not see it, but it's obvious to everyone else how he hangs all over you. and you're not doing enough to stop it."

"but i don't like him, i never did and i never will. you also have nothing to worry about. why can't you let it go?"

chenle sighed, his eyes narrowing. "the same reason you can't let go of your concerns about my friend. no matter what i say, you're still upset and you're still jealous. that's exactly how i feel."

"so what do you want me to do?" you asked, exasperated.

"nothing. you can't do what i want."

"you want me to stop being friends with him? is that it?" you asked, incredulous. "will you do it for me if i ask you the same thing?" you challenged him. but chenle didn't respond; he just rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

you felt so pissed off. chenle was always so unfair to you whenever you had a fight. you almost screamed at him to get out, but then you remembered you were at his house. you grabbed your things and turned to the door. you were about to leave when you heard chenle's voice.

"you're leaving because of something so petty? seriously?" he said with a scoff.

you gave him a dirty look, your hand on the doorknob. "you were about to storm off to your room and shut me out anyway. we obviously don't want to see each other right now, so what's the point of me staying?" you didn't wait for him to respond. you immediately left, slamming the door behind you.

you knew you were being immature, but so was chenle. you weren't about to let him slam the door on you again, making you feel shitty and guilty, when he clearly didn't feel the same remorse. somehow, even when the fight was his fault, you always ended up being the first one to apologize. that made your stomach churn with resentment.

you weren't always like this. during the first few months of your relationship, you and chenle rarely fought. even when you did, they were just small arguments and you would always make up immediately. but now, almost two years into the relationship, after the honeymoon phase had worn off, things had changed dramatically. you started getting into more frequent and intense fights, and the tolerance and understanding that you had at the start had also faded.

honestly, part of the reason why you're always the first one to give in is that, no matter how angry you get at your boyfriend, you can never stay mad at him for long. you fear that if both of you remain stubborn and no one's going to swallow their pride, the fight would escalate and break the two of you apart. chenle, on the other hand, always seems to have no problem ignoring you for a long time. it only intensifies your frustration and hurt, making you feel even more upset with him than you already are.

you've decided you won't give in this time, no matter what. you're scared that he might do the same, matching your stubbornness with his own. but if he can't even swallow his pride for you, the person he claims to love most, then maybe you're better off apart.

you don't want that though — not really. your relationship, despite its flaws, means too much to you. you just hope he does things differently this time.

after leaving chenle's house, you returned to your own place. you tried to sleep, but your anger and frustration had morphed into a gnawing worry that made your stomach tied up in knots. deep down, you weren't confident that he would do right by you this time. the realization made you feel conflicted. is it really worth staying with him if this is how he consistently makes you feel?

the thought sent a wave of sadness through you. despite everything, you loved him deeply. the idea of your relationship ending made your chest tighten with fear. you didn't want this to be the final straw.

tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over onto your pillow. as you cried silently in your room, a mix of emotions washed over you; love, frustration, hope and disappointment all tangled together. eventually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

your last conscious thought was a small hope that when you woke up in the morning, you'd see his name on the screen accompanied by an apology you'd been waiting for.

chenle sat by the sofa, his eyes fixed on his phone, waiting for your call. since you had walked out after your fight the night before, you still hadn't come knocking on his door. this was the first time you hadn't talked for this long after an argument. fear started creeping up because of the prolonged silence from you. his chest tightened at the thought that you might have finally decided you'd had enough of him and realized you deserved better. he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. as the day was coming to an end, the setting sun cast long shadows across his room, signaling the passage of time and deepening his anxiety.

he could no longer sit still and wait for you to come to him. what was stopping him from coming after you anyway? he didn't know. but he realized he had been selfish for always waiting for you to mend things all this time. chenle felt like he could lose you easily to other people; you were surrounded by many who liked you and wanted to be with you. because of that, he always felt threatened. letting you come to him first after a fight somehow gave him a sense of security that you loved him enough not to let others steal you away from him.

but he realized now how dumb that was. instead, he could end up losing you because of his inaction. he snapped out of his reverie and grabbed his car keys, walking hastily through the door.

you heard someone ring your doorbell, and you checked to see who it was. your heart leaped in both happiness and relief at the sight of chenle standing outside your door.

if you weren't in a fight with him, you would laugh at how ridiculous he looked wearing sunglasses. you were pretty sure the sun had already set and it was dark outside.

you were feeling different kinds of emotions as you stood there. relief that he had come, nervousness about what he might say, and a stubborn remnant of hurt from your fight. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was to come as you opened the door, finally seeing him up close.

"can i come in?" chenle asked quietly. you didn't respond verbally, but opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

you closed the door slowly before turning around to face him. chenle stood in the middle of your living room, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

you leaned back against the door, arms crossed protectively over your chest, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

"i'm sorry," he said, his voice was soft and sounded a bit tired. "i'm sorry about everything. i was only thinking about myself and took your words lightly. i kept dismissing your feelings because i was blinded by my own jealousy. i didn't realize i was hurting you." he stepped closer, gently cradling your face in his hands. "please, forgive me. i don't want to lose you over some stupid fight. i know i haven't been the best at showing it, but i love you so much."

his words caused tears to well up in your eyes. for the past 24 hours, you had felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest, each second away from him making you fear you were closer to losing him. you knew you both had much to discuss, and the way you communicated with each other needed improvement. but at that moment, you felt a surge of relief knowing that despite all the fights, chenle still loved you.

"thank you for coming to me, and i'm sorry too," you said, holding the hand that was caressing your face. "i have so many things to say... but first, can i take off your sunglasses? they're distracting." as you removed them, you felt your heart clenched at the sight. chenle's eyes were red and puffy, evidence of hours spent crying. the thought of him crying by himself made your sadness deepen, triggering your own tears as you immediately embraced him. "i'm so sorry for leaving you alone last night."

you didn't usually walk out during your fights, and your departure likely made chenle realize that this argument was unlike any other. he must have thought you had reached your limit. you now understood the depth of his fear of losing you, mirroring your own fear of losing him.

chenle encircled you in his arms, resting his head on your shoulder and burying his face in the crook of your neck. his embrace conveyed how much he had missed you.

"no, i am sorry. i deserved it," he murmured against your skin. "if you hadn't left, i probably would've done the same thing as before and not realized what i'd done wrong. you've been patient with me all this time. i'm sorry for all the times i ignored how you feel. i'll be better for you, i promise." he said, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

as you stood there in each other's arms, you both silently acknowledged the work ahead to strengthen your relationship. the warmth of your reconciliation filled the room, replacing the tension that had hung between you just moments before.

you and chenle were now cuddling on your bed. your chin rested on top of his head while gently running your fingers through his hair. the simple gesture made his heart flutter. his arm draped comfortably around your waist as he nestled against you, closing his eyes and basking in the peaceful aftermath.

as you lay there, feeling warm and loved, you felt so relieved. the tension from your fight completely melted away, and you felt even more in love.

chenle shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up at you. "i think i've figured out the secret to never fighting again."

you raised an eyebrow. "huh? what's that?"

"we just stay like this forever." he replied with a grin. "can't argue if we're too busy cuddling."

"tempting offer, but we'll get hungry eventually." chenle pretended to consider this seriously.

"then we take turns getting snacks while the other one guards the cuddle spot."

"guard it from what exactly?" he shrugged, snuggling closer.

"i don't know. cuddle thieves? it's a very coveted position, you know." you rolled your eyes in amusement.

"you're ridiculous."

"yeah," he leaned up to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "but you love me." he whispered against your mouth. you couldn't help but smile and steal another kiss from him.

as you snuggled back together, you felt calm and happy. in that moment, holding each other close, you both silently promised to stick together. you knew your love hadn't just survived, it had grown even stronger.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “(un)requited love” prompts 

Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 

“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”

“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”

“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 

“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 

“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”

“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 

“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”

“Even love itself bested me.” 

“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”

“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”

“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”

“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”

“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 

“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”

“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”

“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 

“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 

“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”

“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 

“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 

“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”

“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[alchemistc]

So about that deleted scene:

(shovel) talks - read on ao3

"So how many shovel talks should I be expecting?" Tommy asks, once the cake is mostly gone and Eddie and Christopher have wandered off. He tilts his voice low, so as not to draw the attention of Eddie's aunt, who has been eyeing him closely since he came back without any cake for Evan.

"Shovel what?" Evan's eyeing the cake.

"You could just have a bite," Tommy tempts, letting his grin go a little teasing, waving his fork a bit for emphasis, and Evan sighs. Pats his stomach, which Tommy is intimately familiar with, and very fond of, even if Evan wants to be a bit more cut.

"You're trying to deflect. Who gave you a shovel talk?"

"So far?" There's no reason to keep it going, really, except when Evan gets exasperated he huffs and puffs about it and Tommy - he doesn't not like his little attempts at dramatics.

Evan rolls his whole head in an effort to emphasize how much he's not in the mood, but his smile gives him away. It always does.

"Well, Hen and Karen just accosted me. Christopher's already promised anatomically improbable harm."

Evan, if anything, looks a little chuffed about that. Considering some of the things he's gleaned about his home life growing up, it's not all that strange.

Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. "They do know you're an adult, right?"

"Y-yeah, of course they know. It's - you know, that whole family thing you were so jealous of sometimes includes them being a little overbearing."

"Personally, I think they were just looking for some gossip."

Evan's face goes red. "Uh - that might be - that might be my fault. I'm... usually an over sharer."

"Is there something wrong with what I'm doing that you don't feel like over sharing?" It's a dirty ploy, but he's already over invested in this, in them. He wants to weasel a bit of praise out of Evan, even though he hasn't exactly been shy about it to this point at all.

Evan's face does something - a series of tiny expressions he'd have been hard pressed to catch if he weren't staring so closely - before he kicks at Tommy's foot under the table. "You're teasing me again."

Tommy doesn't hide his grin, even as he shovels his fork around the plate to get the last of the frosting off. "Can you blame me?"

Evan's blush is deep deep pink, but he still bites his tongue, tilts his head, tips his foot so that he can slide his toes around Tommy's ankle. He really, really wasn't kidding when he joked that he was trying his best to keep up.

He taps two knuckles against the table, looking like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for Tommy's hand. "It's - it's not like I don't talk about you. I just - some of it I wanna keep for myself."

Tommy fields fifty questions a day at work about the man who has him smiling to himself randomly, checking his phone and losing track of conversations because something ticks at a newly made memory of Evan Buckley. He understands the urge to keep some of those memories for himself.

"So what have you told them?"

He's picking at the thread, trying to unravel it, and he doesn't know why. He's more than satisfied with the state of things as they are now. Things are... different than he's used to, this early in. He's never been with someone so intent on getting to know him, spending time with him, so ready to share himself. It's intoxicating, really, and Tommy's never had a great handle on when to cut himself off.

Evan's expression is overly fond, and Tommy feels the thrill of it down to his toes.

"I told them about our date at the aquarium," he says, eyes sparkling a little. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Evan texting him for three days straight about hammerhead sharks, Frederickson mentioning his son-in-laws obsession with manta rays and the glass-side dinner they offered Saturday's and Sunday's. Evan's eyes drifting to the creatures in the water only half-as-often as they drifted to Tommy, and the air expanding in Tommy's lungs every time that smile landed on him.

Tommy hums.

"I told them a... very abridged version of you trying to teach me Muay Thai."

Evan, gleaming and wide eyed, pinned beneath Tommy, his hands giving up any pretense of doing anything but bracketing Tommy's hips, the gentling kiss Tommy'd placed to the birthmark over his eye before Evan whined and Tommy decided he was done playing games.

"Well, now Hen thinks I lied to her." Tommy jokes, and Evan's brow jumps quizzically. Tommy can't quite help it. Even with Gerrard here, even with eyes around them, even though they'd both decided together to keep the contact to a minimum, this being a work event and all - he reaches out and taps his finger to Evan's nose just to see his face crinkle in confusion. It'll have to do, with friends and family and colleagues all around them, but he can feel the urge to drag him in, to give Evan a taste of the frosting still on his lips, to press their bodies together and feel Evan's heart beat beneath his. The desire is there, crawling beneath his skin, and Evan watches him lean back in his chair like he knows every spare thought rattling around in Tommy's head.

"I told them you make me stupid happy," Evan says, all bright and sincere, something softening around the edges of his eyes, and the cage around his heart strains under the pressure of the muscle pressing for freedom.

Tommy darts a look around the room. Things are winding down, families with children drifting off early to enjoy having the day off, members of the 118 returning to their duties now that they've been thrown back on the dispatch register, higher ups huddled off in groups whispering to themselves about how they all would have been fired if Chief Simpson wasn't gunning for a promotion. Evan tips forward, chin dropping to the bridge of his hands with a grin.

"What do you tell the Harbor people about me?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing," Tommy says, standing, tilting a hip sideways so that he can hide the thumb the presses to the divot of Evan's chin. "If I did they'd think you'd bewitched me."

Evan's smile curls over his cheeks with the dopey expression Tommy's grown to adore.

"Let's get out of here before we get recruited for cleanup."

Evan looks like he's thinking about staying, anyway, so Tommy sweetens the deal. "I told Hen and Karen you were setting the pace. Are you gonna make a liar out of me again?"

Evan barely waits until they're out of sight before he's got two hands bracketing Tommy's hips from behind. Tommy knows he's staring at his ass - can't quite blame him. He works hard on making it look good in dress blues.

They manage to make it to the far side of Tommy's truck before Evan spins him, presses him to the passenger door before Tommy can get it open for him. "When we get home," he starts, too busy pressing his tongue to Tommy's pulse point to notice Tommy's quiet inhale at the phrasing. "I'm gonna take this uniform off of you, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna blow you so good you see stars."

"We should both wear our hats," Tommy negotiates, hoping to keep it light enough that he won't hone in on 'home'.

"The medals can stay too," Evan says, and sucks a bruise into the side of Tommy's neck when Tommy tilts his head back to laugh.

[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[wystericwoes]

“Pretty boy”

Inumaki Toge x reader

Fluff

Warnings: slight cursing

"You just don't understand Maki!"

You dramatically entered your room, putting your belongings on the floor and tossing yourself on the bed as she rested her weapon against the wall, crossing her arms and raising a suspicious brow at you.

You stared up at your dismal ceiling. Letting out a long sigh.

"He's just so pretty."

She observed you curiously as you thrashed around your bed.

"Maybe if you finally talked to him rather than hoping he'll magically become a mind reader-"

You tossed a pillow at her which she easily caught.

"I don't want him to become a mind reader, I just want him to like me and tell me!"

"But without him knowing you like him first? Yeah, because expecting him to make the first move is always the best thing to do.”

she adjusted her glasses and tossed the pillow back to you which you roughly caught and placed back.

You leaned against the wall and pulled your legs up to yourself, resting your chin on your knees.

"You don't get it, if I confess and he doesn't like me, I lose him."

"You're not going to 'lose him' from a confession. It takes more than that to scare him away sadly. We're all stuck together after all."

"Exactly!" You sat upright.

Maki rolled her eyes as you rambled.

"He'll get sick of me, having to see my face in class every day, every mission, all the time."

"You're so dramatic."

You pulled your phone, zooming in on a picture you snuck of him during training. He was looking off, his long eyelashes and smooth locks gracing his face like a goddamn angel.

"Its not fair!"

You set your phone aside so you could slam your face into your pillows and let out a muffled scream.

"Why can someone be so damn pretty? It shouldn’t be allowed!”

You huffed as you recalled his smooth skin and sharp features. Soft hair and gentle smiles.

You put your hands on your face and rolled over to your side facing the wall on your bed.

“You’re obsessed with him.. get a grip.”

Maki rolled her eyes placing a sassy hand on her hip with an annoyed expression.

“You wouldn’t get it. You’ve never had boy problems.”

Her jaw ticked.

“Id hardly call it boy problems if it’s just you sitting in bed thinking about him.”

You threw a pillow again, which she threw back again.

You caught the pillow and pulled it into yourself, hugging it tightly.

“You don’t gotta say it like that!”

You sat upright and whined.

“I just wanna hold his face and kiss it!”

You roughly imitated the motions of what you were saying and made a dramatic kissy face.

“And he kept smiling at me all day, with those big stupid pretty eyes! It’s like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah you don’t sound creepy at allll.”

She said sarcastically.

“It’s not creepy! It’s honest. It’s not like it’s my fault he’s got those stupid pretty lashes and that stupid silky hair and that stupid smooth skin!!”

“If you’re just gonna talk about Inumaki then I’m leaving.”

She turned around and began making paces out the door before you yelled at her to come back.

“Okay sorry!”

“Thank you.”

She made her way through your room and sat in your chair legs crossed facing the bed. You two sat in silence as she began pulling out her books and setting them on your desk to begin your nightly ritual of studying next to eachother. But she abruptly stopped her movements when you let out a long and hearty sigh, making her let a sigh of her own.

“Do you just want me to talk to him?”

“No! Thats 100 times worse.”

“Then get it over with yourself so he can at least reject you and you can move on already.”

“It’s different with him!”

“You’re absolutely delusional. We’re not in elementary school anymore, we communicate our issues like adults.”

You hated to admit that she was right. At this rate with your feelings, you would either drive yourself mad not knowing If he felt the same or if he didn’t. But Is it really better to be rejected than to never know at all? You silently weighed your options.

Maki opened a pencil case and pulled out a ballpoint pen, clicking the end as she started to write. The rhythmic sounds of it began to lull you into a daydream as you fantasized about him again.

Closing your eyes and succumbing to your own fantasies maki took it upon herself to take action. Because as much as she valued you as a friend, if she had to what about your fanatical little crush one more time- she’d lose it.

A few minutes had passed as you remained unmoving.

“Y/n?”

She whispered.

Asleep.

She chuckled to herself as she carefully grabbed your phone Off the bed typed in your passcode, opening up recent messages.

>Toge Inumaki 🩵

>Nobara Kugisaki

>Gojo-Sensei

She cringed to herself as she clicked on Inumakis name and the heart.

Y/n: Hey Inumaki, sorry to bother you. Are you free to hang out soon?

Maki set down the phone content with her text. Not expecting the phone to ding seconds later.

Inumaki: Hang out?

Y/n: Yeah, is that okay?”

Inumaki: ofc it’s okay lol I just don’t know you wanted to hang out with me

Y/n: well ofc! I really like being with you.

She watched as the three dots popped up, anticipating his response.

Inumaki: As long as you’re sure you wanna. Just us?

Maki cringed as her fingers hit the keypad and typed the response.

Y/n: Yeah. I wanna be alone with you :) If you’re okay with that.

Maki looked up from the screen to check that you were still asleep, confident you were since you were even drooling a little- she went back to work.

Inumaki: sounds good, what about the movies tonight?

Tonight?? Maki bit her nail as she looked back from the phone to you back to the phone.

Y/n: sounds great! Text me the deets and I’ll be there.

She got up and tapped your shoulder until you stirred awake.

“Hey! Wake up.”

You pushed her hand away as your eyes slowly rose. Maki shoved your phone in your face.

“I got you a date.”

[junipers-archive]

hey idk how your requests for fics/oneshots work but i thought of this idea! could you do a reader who gets injured a lot(bruises, scratches, burns) and doesnt seem to notice why shes in pain and spencer is always super worried, or points them out and asks if their ok and they are just genuinely like "huh??" like no clue they were actually hurt. i love protective spence. (this is totally self indulgent i spent 3 hours reading in the sun and didnt realize i was burnt until someone noticed ngl)

"Ow!" Suprisingly its not you who screeches, but Spencer who has been watching you like a hawk the entire case.

He had just witnessed you trying to retrace the steps of the serial killer you were tracking and cut yourself on the nearby wire fencing. Walking over to you, you notice his expression, eyebrows scrunched and mouth downturned.

"How does that not hurt?! It hurts me just to look at it!"

You're about to ask what he's talking about but you notice his pointed stare and follow his gaze to the slash down your upper right forearm. Its bleeding, which you would've realized if you hadn't been busy staring at him.

He looks over to hotch and gets a nod of understanding. And you realize you've done it again.

"oh. oops." Its all you can say, all you can come up with because it doesn't hurt, and also he's standing really close to you, too close, you can smell his cologne, which is clean but sweet and perfect and-

"How-how does this even happen to you?" He snaps you out of your daze, now guiding you to the car, popping the trunk to get the med kit out. He supposedly started it 'for the safety of the team members should something happen'.

Though everyone knows the only team member who needed it was you. You're 99% sure the only reason Hotch agreed to the carry on was because he was tired of having to ask for band aids at every police station you had to cooporate with.

Once you take a seat in the trunk he begins cleaning you up, which to your embarrassment, happens almost every case. But it was hardly ever your fault, your body just rarely experienced the sensation of pain.

Even when it meant you walked around with paper cuts on your fingers all day and only noticed the blood while doing paperwork.

"Sorry..." You mumble, lips twisting into a grimace at your childishness, you can't even take care of yourself, your coworker has to keep an eye on you. "You should be focused on the case, not worried about if I'll break my arm and not feel it.."

You cringe at his slight smile, expecting to be made fun of. "I-Its fine, Y/n I like taking care of you."

Rolling your eyes at his sweetness you tilt your head, "You really like having to keep your eyes on me 24/7, making sure I haven't gone and cut off a finger or fell and broken a bone, you want to keep your eyes on me?"

"Yes, I quite like it actually." And he's grinning Spencer Reid is grinning up at you like he's won the lottery, like looking after you is some prize he's won.

"What-Whatdoyoumean-" you begin quickly but he interrupts you,

"All done!" And he's walking away, he's really just walking away like he just didn't do what he just did.

"Spence! Spencer you come back here right now!" And now you have everyone looking at you like a lunatic. But by god you will find out exactly what he meant.

[uyuforu]

Hi Uyu!! Is there any placements that could indicated being fired in SR?

🤔

Being Fired Indicators in Solar Return Chart

So, I actually know some people around me who have been fired in their life, and for different reasons. So I thought it was interesting to see their SRC the moment it happened, and check if they have different placements or similar ones. And with no surprises, it's very similar. I hope this can also be helpful, also don't forget those are indicators, it will depend on your situation, and also on your whole SRC. So don't stress too much! Here are the placements and indicators I have noticed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Uranus 10H can be a sudden change in your career, and usually it might indicate a sudden news, or actually not expecting this change.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 7H Ruler in 10H means this is related to your contract in your career. So if you have Uranus in 10H with this placement, then you have high chances to either get a promotion OR getting fired... depends on the SRC and what is in the 10H

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10H Ruler in 2H Whatever happens in your career will get you money. If you have Uranus in 10H, and getting fired, it can mean you'll go with a big amount of money (+ If you have a stellium/ Sun/ Venus in 2H). My friend was not really fired when she had this, but they wanted her to go (it's not really legal where I live to fire someone, and so you discuss with them to make them go in exchange of a lot of money), and that's what happened to my friend.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 9H Ruler in 10H can be a sign of going away, walking away, distance between you and your job, career. My friend had this also and Chiron in 9H, soooo.. yeah.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Saturn 6H means that you'll struggle in your career, or something will make you feel like there are obstacles in your career. Not exactly a sign of being fired, but shows there could be something wrong. Basically it can be an obstacle against your normal work routine you have.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10H Ruler in 3H + this ruler conjunct Saturn can be another indicator. This one can be that you are being told you are being fired. And tbh, the person who had this wasn't agreeing because they were being fired on saying they made a huge fault, when it wasn't true. So this person went to the court to sue their company.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Mars in 10H or conjunct 10H Ruler weirdly is always there. I guess it can mean you could not react well, conflicts, or also arguments related to that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Aquarius or Taurus 10H (most of people had this!)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 6H Ruler in 8H (Ruler was Pluto) this friend I had was fired but was the last one to know. It was hidden until they were the last one knowing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10H Ruler in 11H this friend has been fired with another person as well, being fired together.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Neptune 10H can also be a sign about not seeing you'll be fired, or just not understanding why.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Having an Indicator of being fired + 12H Stellium can mean feeling deeply hurt and lost about that news.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10H Ruler in 8H can mean holding grudges about this news.

- uyu

[denwritesandcries]

gf!Shauna Shipman HCs

Pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader

Summary: To be Shauna's girlfriend is… Something else, to say at least.

Word count: 1,4k.

Content: 96’ timeline, cursing, suggestive, kissing, kinda toxic shauna, jealousy, fluff, the team being done with u two.

Note: I think that’s probably a little too long for headcanons but I’m really glad someone asked for it cause I love writing for Shauna sm.

English is not my first language.

- You most likely only spoke to each other because you were paired up on some project in a class that you both hate. A classic, but also one of the few ways for Shauna to actively approach anyone she hasn't known for years or been introduced to by Jackie, the girl isn't very sociable.

- She definitely found the most random and stupid reason possible to not like you at first, just because she enjoys being a little hater.

- Like she doesn't want to meet with you to discuss the topic and just leaves you to do your part alone and you just do it because this quiet girl on the football team is pretty hot and also scares the hell out of you.

- When you guys inevitably put it all together she'd take one look at it and say it's shit and make you do it all from scratch again in like one night as if it was your fault.

- And you simply wouldn't understand why she decided to pick on you. She’d have a beef with you that only exists in her head and you’ll be like??? Wondering why the heck she keeps staring at you like a judging hare even after getting (surprisingly) an A+.

(that’s a strangely accurate description, but you think it fits her perfectly well. Eyes widen following you and nose angrily twitching when you pass by.)

- She has a crush on you. Since the beginning. But she has too many problems to actually admit that to herself.

- She would finally admit that fell for you when she sees you reading something by an author she loves. She's a cliché and a failure, no matter how much she tries to deny it. You'd be in the stands during one of the Yellowjackets' practices (by pure chance, definitely not because you want to watch her too), with a notebook open at your side and a book on your lap, working on an assignment for extra credit, Shauna would see you when she stopped to have some water and she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.

Especially if it was something by Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson or Shirley Jackson. She’d go feral. Seriously.

- Then she finally decides to act (after some suspicious looks from Jackie and screams from Taissa for disturbing everyone during the game) and it's like she was never mean to you. She’ll literally act like she's already your friend because she doesn't know how to apologize and start something properly. Will sit next you in class – and kick out whoever actually sat there – and talk to you normally, looking away and chewing on the end of her pen, speaking in a soft and innocent voice.

- You're very much confused and a little suspicious about all this, but you're not gonna complain about it with her slowly running a hand up your arm and blinking her bright deep eyes at you. Even though she still stares. A lot.

- This is how you get a girlfriend, which isn't really what you expected at all, but it's a pretty welcome change.

- gf!Shauna who only asked you out and took you for a milkshake on your first date, even though she doesn't really like sweets, when she heard Nat tell Van that she was thinking about doing that exactly same thing and finally decided to do something (they did it on purpose, just so that Shauna would stop bothering them with her constant yearning).

- gf!Shauna who accompanies you to all your classes, sometimes even being late for hers. She is so show off carrying your backpack for you and walking close enough for your shoulders to brush and rushing to Jackie's side after opening the door for you.

- gf!Shauna who keeps a hand on you all the time, on your shoulder, on your waist, on your arm, but who is too shy to hold your hand and intertwine your fingers properly. She'll become a mess if you hold her hand in the hallways or in front of the team and pretend like she doesn't like it, complaining that you're being clingy (she won't let you let go of her hand at all though).

- gf!Shauna who is jealous and possessive as fuck, no one is safe from her, not even Jackie. She will shoot daggers with her eyes and scare anyone who even breathes near you in a way that makes her feel insecure. Especially if it's someone on the team. Lottie is usually a recurring target of her reactions, making a point of keeping as much distance as possible from Shauna on the field after she sees her talking to you.

- Will totally pretend not to care and say there's nothing wrong when you ask if she's alright, while silently seething with rage and acting weird towards you, keeping everything to herself until she eventually explodes. gf!Shauna who waits until she's alone to write shit about you and the other person in her diary with a horrible, rushed handwriting.

- gf!Shauna, with whom you have to be really patient.

- gf!Shauna with whom you have study dates where she actually makes you study because she won't admit being with someone with a poor average, but who will start kissing you pretty quick until she ends up straddling you the moment she gets tired and decides you both had enough.

- gf!Shauna who absolutely loves seeing you in the stands during practice or a game. She'll show off like never before as soon as she realizes you've come, especially if you yell or cheer for her when she scores a goal. Nat, Lottie and Tai are rolling eyes hard for you two every single time.

- gf!Shauna who takes you in her car wherever you want and whenever you want, driving with one hand on the steering and an elbow resting on the window. Who looks at you with her big eyes shining like a kicked puppy if you ever say you don't need a ride.

- gf!Shauna who has the worst, most questionable taste in movies ever and who gets outraged if you mention it or try to get her to change her choice on a movie night. She's too stubborn to change her mind, so you settle for admiring her profile and leaning back against her warm body on the couch.

- gf!Shauna with whom you have almost weekly sleepovers because her parents are too oblivious to realize there’s something between you. Sleeping in her bed under the pretext that the floor is too cold and keeping the door closed so as not to bother anyone with your teenage nonsense and loud music. It's the perfect combination.

- gf!Shauna who keeps her favorite polaroids of you on your dates alongside the photos of her and Jackie on her bedroom wall.

- gf!Shauna who's always the big spoon and loves feeling your body against hers. She's practically a furnace, perfect for hiding your face on her neck or chest. The best way to fall asleep is with her arms around you and your face buried in her soft skin.

- gf!Shauna who loves to bite and leave marks for every inch of exposed skin you have. Who bites your shoulder joint and digs her nails into your back when you have her pressed against the mattress or the lockers in the changing room.

- gf!Shauna who goes crazy when she sees you in her clothes, especially her button-down shirts and flannels. Sometimes even hides your clothes just to have the excuse to give you hers, because she doesn't know how to ask you to wear them.

- gf!Shauna who writes cheesy and lame love poems for you like a victorian poet, because she doesn't know how to express herself in words without being on impulse or in a fight. You always praise her and thank her a thousand times for them, without letting her know that you don't understand most of what she writes.

- gf!Shauna who demands you tell her you love her before she does it first. She literally asks for it. And then she only says it back weeks later, rushed and nervous, at the moment you least expect it.

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER I: YOU BRUSH PAST ME IN THE HALLWAY

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [5.3K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, talks of anxiety, overall feel good chapter with some slight flirting.

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: Your first day on the main roster wasn't something you ever saw coming, but taking risks is the exact reason why you were there. Still, like walking on new grounds, you find yourself on edge, it a miracle that an encounter with a certain someone leaves you feeling a little at ease with the new beginnings ahead.

The pep in your step felt a little different, and so did the air that belonged to a city you’ve never stepped foot in before—but all of that culminated into nothing when you were thrown in with the sharks not knowing what exactly you were getting yourself into.

The corridors were far more confined than you remembered them being when you were a little kid, and the stares you got were almost gawking. So much different from the admiration that used to fill their orbs when you were a little girl running up and down similar hallways in a different state, different city, different night.

But it’s because you knew they didn’t look at you like that little girl anymore. Nowadays, your entire being was shaped by who your mother and father were, plus the prestigious family name you possessed and the legacy you were expected to carry on.

All of it is foreign, like figuring out how to walk again and this time it’s in a world full of larger-than-life characters that even you cannot seem to fathom quite yet. You grew up around all of it, but you never imagined walking in the shoes of those before you and paving your own way.

A way towards what could be the downfall of your family name or the rise of a new era that started with you.

“The evolution of this company lies within the palm of my hand and—shoot!”

Your footsteps came to an abrupt halt, your body meeting a stiff chest that nearly knocked you to your feet if it weren’t for the quick hands keeping you up by the waistline.

The loose paper scripts fell from your hands, cascading across the concrete floors, losing their orderly place from where you were practicing for what felt like the millionth time.

“Shit! Let me help you, I’m sorry.” A deep voice spoke apologetically, making sure you were standing upright before letting up on his grasp.

The man immediately beat you to it, bending down to gather all the papers, trying his best not to mix them up even more than he already did. Tapping them against the ground to get them in a crisp stack, he rose up and met your eyes.

“Thanks…sorry, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” You apologized, taking the stack of papers he handed to you.

He shook his head smiling assuringly, “I should’ve been more careful,” he paused for a brief moment, tilting his head at you as if he was trying to place you in his memory.

“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

You nodded, smiling widely, trying your best to wash away the first day jitters, “Today’s my first day, actually.”

His lips parted in silent surprise before speaking once more.

“Welcome to the team, my names Seth by the way.” He held out his hand, offering it to you politely.

“Nice to meet you, Seth.” You shook his with a grin on your face.

All of him suddenly hitting you like a ton of bricks, realizing that you should’ve known him the second you two caught eyes.

You had been studying the program closely as a part of your preparation for the venture. Your father making sure you knew every face and every name, not just out of respect but to understand the importance of storytelling—something you were about to be a part of in mere hours as the clocked ticked on.

So you were familiar with Seth Rollins. The mastermind behind the toughest faction of all time, the architect behind his success, the very person who was able to redesign, rebuild, and reclaim it, and most recently the Monday Night Rollins that was taking the world by storm.

You introduced yourself to him, leaving out a very crucial part before you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket. Quickly you released his hand, apologizing under your breath, pulling it out—the screen flashing with messages from your father wondering where you were.

You looked up at him, tucking your phone away.

“I gotta run. Hope to catch you around, Rollins!” You called out, passing him a simple wave before heading off to where you needed to be.

Seth shrugged, continuing on his way to catering not thinking anything much of the encounter. He was versed around the crew. Camera men, mic operators, stage hands, creative personnel, security—the list went on.

After years of being on the road with the same company, he was acquainted with almost everyone. Granted, he got some names confused here and there, but for the most part he knew the faces that were always around.

You happened to be one of the new ones—a pretty one at that. It wasn’t every day that the company expanded their crew, too accustomed to the people who were well seasoned with the type of show they were producing and the talent they needed to get it out to the fans. But he knew if you were here, then you surely knew what you were doing.

“There you are Mr. Monday Night,” Kofi whistled with a smirk, catching the sight of Seth walking through catering wearing a big ‘ole smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off, going to make himself a plate of food to get himself energized before the show, “You gonna call me that every time I enter the room?” He barked playfully, tossing a little bit of everything on his plate.

Kofi hummed, pulling out a chair for his friend to sit, “What’s the sense of you naming yourself Monday Night Rollins if I don’t seize the opportunity for a nickname?”

“We could always call you Triple R? Redesign, Rebuild, Reclaim?” Charlotte quipped and everyone shook their heads.

“Paul would have a field day with that one,” Dean snorted with a grunt.

Catering was one of the many communal spaces in every arena. Superstars mingling with others before and in between matches, and a lot of them traveling with others to make work feel more like play outside the ring. While the routine may seemed hectic for some, for people like Seth who had been doing it long before WWE, it was second nature, only this time nicer rental cars and occasional business class flights made it less stressful.

The catering door swung open, a stagehand who looked rather frantic eyed the room.

“Have any of you seen Ms. Levesque?”

Seth furrowed his brows, confused as he and the rest of the room answered ‘no’ while the stagehand sighed, communicating into their earpiece and then disappearing.

Stephanie had stepped down from her co-CEO position months ago after her husband Paul took over and while it wasn’t odd for her to pop in every once in a while, it was even odder that a stagehand of all people was out looking for her.

“Since when did Steph drop the Mrs?” He wondered, looking around at his friends who shrugged carelessly, not paying it any mind.

You raced through the hallways, reading aloud every plaque that hung from the doors until you finally came across the one you had been searching for amidst all the twists and turns of the arena. You turned the knob, pushing your way inside to be greeted with your dad looking up from his laptop and rising from his desk with a smile on his face.

“There you are,” He greeted, walking around to greet you with a hug.

“Hey,” You closed your eyes peacefully, holding him tightly before releasing, “Sorry I got caught up with TJ and Dave.”

You waved the still jumbled scripts in your hand, and he chuckled, nodding his head knowing that’s exactly where you should’ve been after he sent some stage hands to search for you. He could feel your anxiety and he could certainly read it in your face—no matter how much he tried to prepare you and let you process it on your own, he knew it was the normal nerves coming out to play.

“Relax kid, don’t get too in your head over this,” He encouraged you, gently nudging your side with his elbow. “The moment you get out there it’s going to come like second nature.”

You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Are you really trying to work in a Ric Flair reference right now?”

He laughed out loud, ruffling the top of your head with a grunt.

“You’re lucky you're my daughter you know that?”

“Oh trust me, I’m aware.”

You hung out in his office, getting the scripts placed back into the correct order, reading it over while your dad typed away responding to important emails he didn’t want to bore you with. It was his duty as a father to not stress you with unnecessary business on your very first day, but sooner than later he’d show you the ropes on what he knew you’d take on flawlessly.

After some time passed, a knock was heard on the door. You and your dad looking up in the direction and he called out a reply summoning them in.

It was Samantha, one of the few people you had met prior to your first day. She was the head of social media, running almost every WWE outlet on the internet. She gladly welcomed you, expressing her excitement for the day she got to make a post about you officially joining the company.

“Hey you, it’s your big day!” She congratulated with an embrace that you were incredibly grateful for.

“I’m so nervous. Promise me you won’t post my promo if I botch it?” You said half jokingly, but the fear was still obvious behind your eyes.

“You’re not going to botch it, trust me. Your dad told me you’ve been rehearsing it like every day.” She insisted, waving off your self doubts.

Paul rose his hands in defense, catching your half hearted glare you shot him.

“You know it by heart, but you also know how to make it feel natural and real, which is the most important part.”

Sam nodded her head in agreement, rubbing your arm up and down encouragingly before you plopped back down on the couch. She made her way towards your dad, holding out the reserved social media phone, linked to all of Triple H’s platforms, and displayed the post for one of their social media uploads.

“Speaking of important, I’m going to send out the tweet about the special announcement from your twitter account then I’ll retweet and quote from the company’s main account,” She explained, watching Paul scan through the text before giving an approving nod.

“Send it out.” He gave his approval and Sam promptly hit post, checking out the numbers already begin to fly through the notification tab just a few seconds later.

She looked over at you, shooting you a thumbs up, “You’re going to break the internet tonight, for all good reasons.”

You said your goodbyes to her, checking the time on your phone realizing that doors would open any minute now and time would surely pass faster than you’d like before it was showtime. Your hair and makeup was already done, needing just a little more of hairspray and a reapplication of lip-gloss.

“I should probably get changed, right?” You looked up at your dad who nodded and did some typing on his phone before standing up and strolling over to where you tried to relax your nerves.

“Go get changed and shake out your bones. I’ll meet you out in the ring, okay?” He spoke gingerly, slinging his arm across your shoulders, giving you a loving shake—the same one he always gave you when you needed the push.

“You sure you don’t want to go over it again?” You stared up at him, eyes wide with fret.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I don’t want you to psych yourself out. You know it well and how to make it yours…that’s more than enough.”

He sent you on your way, but of course not without a request for your ‘personal assistant’ to follow you along. In actuality, it was his personal assistant, a sweet guy named Eddie who you had met times before—sometimes even the one picking up your phone calls to your dad when he was busy in meetings and talent relation.

“Ms. Levesque, your dress has been pressed and ironed. Would you like to change into it now?”

Eddie spoke with an exaggerated English accent, making you crack a laugh, shaking your head and taking the garment from where he held it out to you.

“The English would throw scones at you, you know?” You looked over at him, unzipping the plastic covering to inspect the dress you had picked out for the occasion.

You went simple, but something that still felt like you. A black sleeveless mock neck fitted dress that fell mid-thigh which you were going to pair with a red heels to signify your debut on Raw. Your mother had helped you pick it out a few weeks back and even left a special note strung around the hanger reading:

“Good luck on your first day, sweetie! Kill it and make her-story! - With love, mom”

Eddie snickered, easing up in your presence thankful that you weren’t so intimidating like your father. But Paul wasn’t all that bad. If anything he was the most decent employer he’d ever had, there just were a lot of expectations when it came to making sure the guy wasn’t under too much stress after his heart surgery.

“The dress totally breaks dress code, by the way. If this were any other company, you’d get a warning for indecency.” Eddie shook his head with a faux unimpressed frown on his face.

“Well by all means, let the slut shaming begin.” You giggled, wiggling your shoulders with a shimmy.

He scoffed begrudgingly, opening the bathroom door for you to head inside while he waited outside the door watching for any onlookers.

Fans had already begun finding their way to their seats while the crew finished setting up all the hard cameras and getting the visual prepped for the new graphics that would be displayed when your theme song hit.

Not only were the fans curious of Triple H’s special announcement, but so were the superstars who were caught off guard when producers went around letting everyone know that they would be up on stage for the broadcast.

Seth finished up in catering, making his way towards the nearest bathroom in order to douse his hair with some water prior to changing into his gear for the night. To his surprise, Triple H’s personal assistant Eddie was standing watch outside the door, prompting him to stop just a few feet away.

“Occupado?” Seth sought, to which Eddie nodded with a tight smile. “A quick outfit change,” He informed the superstar.

Seth assumed it was Paul, getting ready ahead of the big announcement. Lately the company had been on fire with him now in charge, giving all the superstars the work environment and creative freedom that they had been dying for. If it was something as big as a surprise that left talent in the dark, then it must have been legit.

The door pulled open from the inside and you fluffed your hair, striking a silly pose as you leaned against the doorframe. The two men turned their attention to you—Eddie bursting out into laughter, while Seth attempted to stifle his own.

“How do I look—oh! sorry, were you waiting long?” You immediately moved out of the way, an embarrassed red flush coming over your cheeks.

Seth shook his head and smiled, looking you up and down, “Nah, you’re fine. You look good by the way.”

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, glancing over at Eddie who rose his brow at you, holding his arms out to take your folded clothing you once wore.

“Ready to go?” He asked, and you nodded, smoothing out your dress.

“Ready as ever.” You took a deep breath.

You timidly waved bye to Seth, keeping close to Eddie’s side trying to stay out of everyone’s way who were rushing through the halls trying to get ready for the show. Seth chuckled to himself, still wondering what your role was—editor? personal assistant? Surely, he’d find out soon enough.

“You’re going to do great, sucker-punch,” The country twang belonged to none other than Shawn Michaels who reassured you through the loud crowd roaring past the concrete walls.

He was your godfather and one of your dad’s bestest friends in the entire world who had come all the way to watch your big debut. He had been a constant in your life since you were a baby, and it was nice to have another father figure you could look up to, let alone work with down at NXT before your dad thought you were finally ready for the big leagues.

“I just wanna go over it again,” you took a deep breath rubbing your hands together nervously, and he nodded letting you go through the motions with him, “When I step out I pause for a few seconds then the cameras will follow behind me until I get through gorilla position?”

“Exactly that. The hard camera down the ramp will catch the first sight of you. Pause on your mark for a few seconds and when it feels right meet your dad in the ring.”

It was about the hundredth time you asked someone for clarification on the simple segment, but in your defense you were new to all of this and no matter how much confidence you had, you surely didn’t want to screw it up.

“We’re live in a minute and thirty.” The crew called out, making their final adjustments to their equipment.

Shawn gave you a pat on the knee.

“Trust yourself, you got this.”

You flashed him a nervous smile, nodding your head before he shut the limousine door shut, walking out of camera frame to watch from the sidelines.

“Places people!” You heard the crew shout, a stagehand counting down as the limo slowly began to drive forward just in time.

The superstars were lined up on stage, a mixture of Raw and SmackDown superstars in attendance for the special program. Triple H had kicked off the show, making his entrance through the sea of talent before getting into the ring mic in hand.

“I know all of you are wondering what my special announcement is…” He began, and the fans cheered loudly, chanting “yes!”

Paul nodded his head, pacing around the ring coolly, “WWE has entered a new era. And I am flattered to say that all of you have coined it the Paul Levesque Era, though I find it to be a little unoriginal I might say.” He joked lightly, giving the fans and talent a light-hearted laugh.

“But in all seriousness, my era had begun long ago when I forged NXT and cradled it like a baby until it learned how to walk on its own and give all of you some of the most talented and athletic superstars, some of which are standing on that very stage because of their own destiny to be here.”

He slung his arms over the ropes, jutting his chin out in respect to many of the talent whom he had the honor of working with since the beginning of their careers back in NXT, when no one realized what a monumental period it would be for them.

“Which brings me to my very special announcement. You see, I didn’t get here by not taking risks, by playing it safe and going for the sure plan. No, I got here because I see potential, and I am willing to put my money and reputation on the line to carry out the potential I see and make them stars.”

His words were partly a shoot, all the talent and fans aware of the heat that he had faced in the past from wrestling outlets who scrutinized his choices for prioritizing NXT instead of the main roster at the time.

“But I’ve always seen potential when it comes to one particular person. Someone who I think is not just riskier than me, but always takes the long shot, not for praise or notoriety, but because they know in their heart and soul that they can, and when they do, they will succeed.”

“It’s the kind of trait that is rare. One that few possess in this lifetime, which is why it is imperative to me that this individual gets a shot to show it to you themselves…” He gestured up to the titantron where a camera scurried behind a stretch limousine.

You sat back against the leather, doing your best to keep down the nerves as they rolled the live cameras. The driver came to a smooth stop, placing the vehicle in park before making their way out to open your door, allowing you enough space to stick your foot out first.

There was no turning back now. Everything that you had rehearsed and played over and over again in your head was being worked out on live television for all the fans sitting in attendance to see and more startling, the million watching at home to view.

You breathed in the foreign city air, taking it all in before your heels clicked against the concrete, the feeling of the crew trailing behind your every move. The voice in your head reminded you to keep up with the strides—everything from the talk and the walk, made your character and even now when the fans didn’t know your name or face, they could still understand you meant business just by the way you portrayed yourself.

The closer you got to gorilla, the louder the fans got and the realer it all felt. There was little time for you to acknowledge the crew of producers in gorilla, too busy keeping yourself together as your fingertips swept the curtains to the side and before you know it, your music blasted through the building.

Without needing to be told, the superstars split into halves once more, making way for the mystery woman to hit center mark and there the fans finally got to see who it was. Your name lit up on the big screen — the last name alone evoking ovations that were louder than you imagined you’d ever get.

You smirked, holding back on letting the happiness seep completely through. Making your way towards the ring after pausing for the hard camera, your father walked out towards the apron, holding on a hand for you to take before opening the ropes for you to step through.

He handed you a mic, your music slowly dying giving the fans a chance to settle their cheers so you could speak.

“My, my, my, you sure do know how to make a girl feel extra special on her Raw debut,” You charmed the crowd, looking around the stadium full of fans who were on their feet.

“My father Triple H told me that you all are some of the most electrifying fans in the entire world and I can confidently say that he wasn’t kidding.” You looked over towards your dad, who grinned and clapped for you.

“Now I know my presence may come as a surprise, but I can assure you all that I do not mean to do any harm. In fact, my dad is still the big boss around here, but he did mention needing a little bit of help running the place, and I figured with my history and family name I might as well take a shot and give it a go?”

Again the crowd erupted in cheers, happy to see the legends lineage continuing with a new generation that would surely take after her father’s creative outlook.

“You see, I’ve watched this company thrive and flourish into a league of its own. But I’ve also watched it slip through the cracks and make mistakes that would have never happened under my watch. The evolution of this company lies within the palm of my hands and I will not let the slip-ups of the past come in the way of me fulfilling the prophecy of taking this company to new heights.”

You pointed to the stage, where the superstars looked rather impressed by your words.

“So please join me in ushering in the Levesque Era.” You stared into the hard camera with a broad smile, dropping the mic as your music hit once more.

Your father lifted your arm up, circling around every side of the ring, pointing at you proudly, cherishing the moment. He helped you out of the ring, hooking your arm through his as you two walked up the ramp. A few talents exchanging gracious smiles with you as you brushed past them and headed towards the back.

“Holy shit!” You screeched, finally breaking character and covering your face in elation.

Your dad immediately pulled you into a hug, giving you your first pat on your back with the company. It was safe to say he was way more emotional than you, happiness seeping out in tears of joy, while you still struggled to fathom the paradigm shift of your career.

“Now that’s how you deliver your first promo, sucker-punch.” Shawn snuck up from behind you, pulling you into a proud hug making you laugh.

Gorilla quickly began filling with the superstars, heading backstage before the first match started. A bunch of them stuck around to get a turn to meet you, or as they nicknamed you, the ‘heiress’ which you found comical.

You stuck around for a good chunk of the show, keeping your dad company where he sat at the monitors, now and then turning to you as he showed you a few of the different aspects that he handled on live shows. Surely you would eventually get a thorough rundown of future tasks, but your dad wanted you to focus on being a part of the creative team and main roster.

Towards the ending of the show, you parted ways with your dad saying goodbye to him as he would be staying a few hours after holding some meetings with the crew while you got to get some much needed rest at the hotel.

Strolling down to your office, you were stopped by a blonde woman excited to meet you. You had recognized her immediately—Renee Young who was a backstage interviewer.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you!” You bubbled, sticking your hand out to introduce yourself.

She beamed, shaking her head at you with astonishment, “The second you came out, I knew immediately, like, ‘this has to me Paul’s daughter’ and then when you started speaking…” she paused, eyes widening as you giggled, “I was like ‘yeah, this is Paul and Steph’s daughter!’ it comes to you so naturally!”

“Thank you so much, you have no idea what that means to me,” You said thankfully opening your arms and pulling her into a small but mighty hug, “I was honestly so nervous, I’m surprised I didn’t croak out there.”

Renee shook her head, resting a warm hand on your shoulder. “You did amazing, and you’re only going to get better the more you do it.”

You and her chit-chatted for a couple of minutes before a male figure strolled up to her side, slinging his arm around her tenderly. She looked up at him, patting his chest and pointing to you.

“Nice first impression you’re sending to our future boss,” she joked, making you giggle.

He looked at you, realization crossing over his face and he swiftly stuck out a hand towards you.

“Shit, I’m Dean. Sorry m’all sweaty. Just finished a match and all.”

You shook your head, reassuring him as you shook his hand.

“Don’t worry about throwing me off. I personally think the whole wrestler's dress code thing is dumb. I’ve seen your stuff on TV a bunch before…great match by the way.”

“Oh thanks,” He nodded with a grin, happy that you weren’t on the uptight side of the company.

You learned that Dean and Renee had been together for years, tying the knot in secrecy a few years ago at their home in Nevada. Your father had worked closely with them before their debut on the main roster—Dean working in FCW before it became NXT, and Renee starting backstage at developmental before your dad requested to have her brought up to be an addition to the crew.

“Mr. Monday Night!” Renee hollered, looking past you towards the figure who was strolling down the hallway.

You turned your head over your shoulder, smiling at the man who came closer immediately taking notice of you. This time around he was dressed in gear, his match for the night already wrapped, and he was heading to the locker rooms to get changed.

“Hey you,” you grinned, sharing a knowing, playful look with Seth that Renee and Dean couldn’t decipher.

Your eyes twinkled with amusement and his face held a mischievous smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Have I seen you around before?” Seth joked, raising a brow at you suspiciously.

Your shoulders rose with a casual shrug, your hands plopping into your lap as you both burst into laugher, echoing in the halls. There was an ease to you both, the kind that made you forget all about the nervousness that you felt at the beginning of the night when scripts scattered across the same ground you both stood on.

“How was my first day?” You proposed, anticipating what he had to say.

“I’m still recovering after butchering my first encounter with the leading lady herself…” Seth admitted, rubbing at his chest sheepishly, sucking in a sharp breath, “but you killed it…you are a complete natural, Ms. Levesque.” He emphasized your last name with a playful smirk.

You nodded thankfully, before waving your hands in the air a kind of tender scolding at the formalness.

“Please, the only people who call me that are people who are afraid of my dad.”

“Ms. Levesque…”

You turned your head toward the familiar voice. Eddie who stood off to the side with your bags and luggage in hand. The three broke into laughter at his formal address towards you, aware that it was merely out of respect, but perhaps also a touch of intimidation by your father.

“We have a car out back ready to take you back to the hotel. All your belongings are here.” Eddie informed you.

You nodded, smiling gratefully at him for going out of his way to carry out a kind gesture like that. Sure, it was probably at your father’s request, but Eddie knowing you for as long as he did, knew you would refuse any kind of help if he didn’t do it himself.

“It was nice meeting you guys…and you again, Mr. Monday Night.” You twiddled your fingers in a playful wave.

“See you around soon,” Seth chuckled, giving you a warm smile that lingered as you walked away.

You took hold of your bags, Eddie rolling your luggage behind him as he lead you to the parking garage where the driver was waiting.

“You two know each other?” Dean rose his brows, looking closely at his friend.

“Barely. I just ran into her before the show and thought she was on the crew.” Seth explained, his eyes still following you as you walked further down the hall.

“She didn’t introduce herself?” Dean pressed, curiosity evident in his voice.

“She did,” Seth looked over back at the pair, “She just left out her last name.”

“Probably didn’t want to be the center of attention.” Renee suspected with a shrug, turning her attention back to Dean and their plans for the rest of the night.

Seth watched you stop a few feet down the hall to shake hands with a few of the crew and members of creative. Your smile was warm and genuine as you quickly said your thank you’s for their kind words and wished them a goodnight. Finally, you were ushered down another turn, disappearing from his view.

He could get used to having you around. He just wondered if you would get used to being the shiny new star in their world.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: if you made it this far, i hope you liked chapter one of icsy!!! i truly had the best time writing this chapter and i feel like you guys are going to love whats to come! perhaps seth and reader are masterminds to their very core huh? we'll find out soon enough!!!

[dark-cherrypie]

Three Idiots (Dabi, Hawks and Endeavor)

Summary: It's tough competition to receive an internship offer from Endeavor's agency. Endeavor somehow ended up getting three idiotic interns, one of them happens to be his son, the daughter of his rival, and a fucking chicken. TLDR, I need more Pro-Hero Dabi AUs because what the fuck Horikoshi

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

In Endeavor's Main Office, an unusual sight unfolded-- one you wouldn’t expect in a place as rigid and disciplined as Endeavor’s Agency. Seated seiza-style on the floor in front of the imposing central desk were three interns: Hawks, Dabi, and [Name]. Each wore a different expression-- Hawks appeared uneasy, Dabi wore a smug grin, and [Name] stared blankly into the distance, lost in thought. The tension in the room was palpable.

Endeavor, the Flame Hero, loomed over them, his fiery glare fixed on the trio.

“Let’s address your recent failures,” Endeavor growled, his voice a low rumble that demanded attention. “Hawks-- engaging in unauthorized fraternizing with admirers? You jeopardized the mission for your own amusement.”

Hawks shifted, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by visible discomfort.

“Dabi,” Endeavor continued, his glare narrowing. “Your refusal to cooperate with your teammates has crippled team cohesion and effectiveness. And the property damage-- completely avoidable if you had let [Name] contain your flames.”

Dabi met Endeavor’s fiery stare with unbothered defiance, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“And you, [Name],” Endeavor said sharply, flames flickering more intensely around him. His disappointment was evident. “For someone raised by All Might-- even if adopted-- I expected at least a shred of his work ethic. Your lack of situational awareness is disgraceful. You should be capable of managing yourself without relying on others.”

[Name] remained unmoved, their calm demeanor only stoking Endeavor’s irritation further.

The flames around him flared hotter. “Do any of you understand the consequences of your actions? This isn’t a playground! Lives are at stake, and your incompetence is unacceptable!”

The three interns sat in silence, the weight of Endeavor’s words pressing down on them.

“Well?!” Endeavor’s voice barked, breaking the silence that had stretched on too long. “Do you three have anything to say for yourselves?”

Hawks shifted his gaze between Dabi and [Name], hesitating before slowly raising his hand as if to ask a question. Endeavor fought the urge to roll his eyes. “What is it, Hawks?”

“If anyone should be blamed here,” Hawks said slowly, “it’s Dabi.” Dabi shot him a sharp side-eye. Hawks, usually the type to stay out of drama, couldn’t keep quiet any longer, especially with Endeavor’s wrath focused on him. “I was just asking the civilians for directions because Dabi kept running off without us. One thing led to another, and they wanted photos with me. I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Aw, boo-hoo,” Dabi cut in, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips. “Poor Mr. Birdbrain, upset because the ladies couldn’t keep their hands off him.” Hawks glared at him, but before he could retort, Dabi interrupted again. “Besides, the property damage wasn’t that bad.”

Endeavor’s gaze hardened at Dabi’s dismissal.

“It was Airhead’s fault for not being able to keep up with me in the first place,” Dabi added casually, throwing [Name] under the bus.

Endeavor’s flames flared to life, licking the edges of his desk as his anger reached a boiling point. “Enough!” he bellowed, his voice shaking the room. “If you refuse to follow orders and work as a team, you have no place here.”

Dabi’s smirk faltered just a bit, but he quickly masked it with an exaggerated eye roll, muttering under his breath, “Whatever.”

Endeavor’s gaze shifted, now focusing intently on [Name]. “And you,” he growled, his tone darkening, “if you think daydreaming is acceptable in my office, you’re mistaken.”

[Name] blinked slowly, turning to look at him, seemingly unphased. “Huh?”

Endeavor’s flames sputtered, caught off guard by their utter lack of concern. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

“Something about situational awareness,” [Name] replied nonchalantly, scratching their head. “Look, I wasn’t relying on anyone. Dabi’s flames are... a lot. I’m working on it.”

“WORKING ON IT?!”

Without warning, Endeavor grabbed Hawks by the face with his left hand and [Name] with his right, then, in one swift motion, slammed their faces directly into Dabi’s skull.

The sound of impact echoed through the room, followed by a cacophony of pained yowls. Hawks crumpled to the side, clutching his head with one hand while his wings flapped wildly in an attempt to stabilize himself, his feathers zooming out of control. “Ow, ow, ow!” he howled, his feathers ruffling in panic.

Dabi’s body folded like a wet noodle as he staggered back, gripping his skull as if it were going to explode. “WHAT THE HELL, DAD?!” he groaned, knees buckling.

Meanwhile, [Name] was flailing in the air, crying out in exaggerated distress. “This is abuse!” they shouted between kicks, their legs spinning like a windmill. “I’m seriously going to have a concussion!”

Endeavor stood over the three interns, watching the chaos unfold with a cold, unwavering gaze. The room was filled with the sounds of groaning, wing flapping, and the occasional squawk of protest. The intensity of his earlier anger still lingered in the air like the remnants of a firestorm, but the flames around his body had simmered down to a mere flicker.

He crossed his arms, watching them writhe on the floor with a mix of annoyance and what could almost be interpreted as... disappointment?

“Alright, enough.” His voice was still low but controlled, like the calm before the storm. “You’re all fine. Stop acting like you’re going to die.”

Dabi, still clutching his head, groaned and slowly sat up. “Fine? I feel like my brain’s about to melt.” He glared at Endeavor, his tone half sarcastic, half pained. “You can’t just slam people’s faces together like that! What are you, a villain?”

Endeavor’s fiery gaze narrowed, but his expression softened ever so slightly. “Maybe you’ll think twice before burning everything you see to the ground.” He didn’t give Dabi a chance to argue further before turning to [Name], who was still kicking the air and wailing melodramatically.

“I swear, if you don’t stop flailing-- ”

“I’m going to be permanently concussed!” [Name] wailed, dramatically clutching their head like it might fall off. “This is what happens when you treat us like human bumper cars! How are we supposed to get anything done when you keep slamming us into each other like this?! How are we supposed to work like this?”

Endeavor sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re all impossible.”

Hawks, who had slowly managed to straighten himself up, gave Endeavor a pointed look. “This is what happens when you don’t take a breather before laying down the law, boss. You’ve got a temper, y’know?” He rubbed his head with a slight wince, his usual smug grin returning. “Not that I’m complaining, but someone could use a vacation.”

Endeavor shot him a sharp glare, but it lacked its usual fire. He let out another frustrated sigh, clearly not ready to fully admit that maybe, just maybe, he’d overreacted. But it was hard to stay angry when they were all looking like a group of mangled birds after a bad flight.

“Alright, alright,” Endeavor muttered, turning away as if dismissing them all. “Just... get it together. And next time, pay attention. No more excuses.”

The interns slowly picked themselves off the floor, groaning as they straightened up, rubbing sore spots where their faces had collided. They shot each other tired, half-exasperated looks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dabi muttered, dragging a hand through his feathers. “You don’t have to tell us twice.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way he handles things,” [Name] muttered under their breath, a pout forming.

Dabi stretched and gave Endeavor a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s one way to get our attention.” He raised an eyebrow, adding with a shrug, “You should try a hug next time, though. Might do wonders for your temper.”

Endeavor’s flames flared up again—just a little, just enough to remind them who was in charge. “Out. All of you. Now.”

They didn't need to be told twice. The three interns hastily made their way to the door, eager to escape the aftermath of their fiery mentor’s wrath. Hawk decided to ease the tension by suggesting they go to a local ramen restaurant. As the door slammed shut behind them, a tense but somewhat relieved silence settled in the office.

Endeavor exhaled deeply, his flames flickering down to a soft glow. "I need a vacation."

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 3 - The Imp

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

He's not just a bitch! He's a bitch with a backstory.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 3,140

Warnings: a lot of trauma related stuff, a lot of self-deprecating thoughts, some things are canon-compliant and some are my own, i think that's it, also hey look it's the reason blitzø wanted to sneak into ozzie's so bad!

Blitzø has been called many different things throughout his life. 

Most of those things have been insults but, hey, who’s keeping track? 

From an entitled prick to a selfish asshole to shit-for-brains to imp scum to… well, you get the gist of it. You name it, he’s been called it. And he was perfectly fine with being all of those things.

He’d decided very early on that he would own any titles he was given if it meant he had any sort of control over how they affected him. 

And it worked. If he was going to be called useless, or selfish, or a low-level regardless of what he did, he was just going to let himself become all of those things. If no one expects anything good to come from him anyway, why should he even care to try? This wouldn’t help stop them saying all those awful things he hated to hear about himself, but at the very least he’d be at peace knowing he wasn’t spending his entire life humiliating himself for the off-chance that someone would see him the way he wanted them to.

That way, he’d always have the upper hand.

Growing up in the circus, Blitzø learned at a very young age that he was no more than a collateral to his father. ‘Useless’ at being sufficiently entertaining, as he always heard he was, Blitzø understood entirely too well that he was only kept around for the simplest of all things he was: unpaid labor and an obligation.

At times, in his teenage years, he’d start to wonder if he would ever have been kept around at all if it weren’t for his mother.  

And sometimes, well into adulthood already, Blitzø would find himself hurting people. Really hurting people. Sometimes even on purpose, without ever fully understanding why he did what he did. Most of the time he would try and ignore it, or pretend not to care, try to convince himself it was for the best that he kept his distance from people. 

But, at certain times, thoughts of his mother would consume him. Would she be proud of who he had become? 

He hardly thought so. 

There were times when he would even find himself wondering who he could have grown up to be had she stayed around for longer. Would he be nice? Kind? Caring?

Would he be loved?

But she wasn’t around, and that was his fault, he kept reminding himself. And that wasn’t fucking fair. 

His mother was always kinder than his father ever was. She was sweet and caring and always made sure to check on him. The moments they spent together were always his favorite as a kid. 

When she was with him, it almost felt like nothing else mattered, as if her presence could shield him from anything- he always blindly believed her when she told him time and time again that everything would be okay. It was a nice feeling. 

She was always full of life, always the soul of every room she entered, always cheering Blitzø back up when he was down. She was always pure light.

Except when his father was around. 

Blitzø loathed the way her demeanor changed around him, how she minimized herself to be next to him. When he was young, he’d always toyed in his mind with the idea of her being two different people who shared the same body: there was his mother, and there was his father’s wife. 

His mother was kind, compassionate, caring, free. His father’s wife was cold, quiet, dull.  

Fizzarolli entered his life really early on. 

At merely seven years old, he was taken into the circus after losing his parents in a freak accident, and Blitzø remembers the day they met clear as day.

Fizz was small. At the young age of eight years old, Blitzø vividly remembers his mind conjuring the term ‘fragile’ to describe him. 

Scared and vulnerable, Fizzarolli was an emotional creature, only a kid, after all. And that demanded care. At first, Blitzø really didn’t enjoy having to share his mother as a caregiver in the slightest. He was also only a kid, after all.

As time passed, though, he grew to quite like Fizz’s presence. He’d never really been much too surrounded by other kids, as it’d always been only him and his parents, and now he had a best friend! Someone to talk to and play with all the time, and who was as eager for a friend as he was himself. 

A couple years later, at ten years old, Blitzø received news from his parents: he was going to be a big brother. His father didn’t seem to express too many feelings about that- he never really expressed much other than disdain when it came to him, for the matter, but his mom seemed excited. 

Blitzø wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it. Sure, he got used to sharing his life with Fizz, but that was enough, wasn’t it? Things were good as they were, why mess it up with another kid?

When Barbie was born, Blitzø made it his personal goal to express just how much he disliked the idea of having a sibling- but that only lasted a few weeks. A few weeks of being rude and purposefully stubborn were enough for him to notice how hurt his mother was that he was acting that way, especially when she was already clearly overwhelmed with taking care of the baby along with himself and Fizzarolli. 

Being the reason for his mother’s tears was the thing he hated the most in the whole wide world.

And so he stopped. It took him many months for his feelings about his sister to really change, but he decided he wouldn’t be so mean about it anymore, for his mom’s sake. And, with time, he grew used to his sister too. Sure, she was annoying and extremely clingy, as all babies and younger siblings are, and yes, he’d still act annoyed at her, but he started to not mind it as much.

He started to care.

At ten years old, too, on a random day, something rather unusual happened: his father came looking for him after a show, prompting him to stand up from the floor where he’d been playing with Fizz and their balloon horses, because he’d been… sold?

Yeah, that’s right. His dad told him, normal as ever, that apparently one of the Goetia princes had seen their part of the show earlier, and his father wanted to, quite literally, purchase Blitzø for the rest of the day. 

“Ew. Why?”

“Because money!” That always seemed to answer plenty when it came to Good Old Cash.

He was dragged to the Goetia palace with a purpose: to steal everything he could. That didn’t feel right nor did it feel safe. After all, who knew what sort of bad things could happen to him if he got caught stealing from royalty? He was young, but he knew they weren’t demons you wanted to mess with. 

He was scared. 

But they needed the money, and his dad had pulled the card that could get him to do basically anything he was asked to: ‘don’t you want to help your mother?’

Of course he’d do anything to help mama. 

Getting back home, he felt bad. Because the prince had been kind to him the entire time. Because the prince was naive, clearly not even having considered the possibility of Blitzø having been there to do what he did. Because everything his dad had told him about the big bad royals seemed to fall flat with Stolas. 

Getting back home, he still struggled to understand why he had been the one chosen to go, and not Fizz, when Fizz was clearly a better… well, everything… than he was. 

It was all too confusing, growing up with Fizz. As much as he loved him, there would always be a part of him that felt jealous, insecure around him. Because, to him, it seemed his best friend was everything he wanted to be and everything he wanted to be seen as. A better entertainer, a better friend, a better kid to his parents. Everything Blitzø could never live up to.

But, as he grew older, he came more and more to the realization that it wasn’t Fizz’s fault. It was all his parents. Or, rather, it was mostly his father. He was the one who put the two against each other, when, time and time again, they showed they only wished to work together, to be kids, to be friends… or more, maybe?

On the day of Fizarolli’s 17th birthday, Blitzø had been set on confessing the feelings he’d come to nurture towards the boy. Never used to this sort of thing, the only person he’d told about it was his mom, who had smiled oh-so-sweetly at him and hugged him as he let out tears, assuring him that it was okay for him to feel that way, even if it was scary. He’d prepared a badly rehearsed but well-meaning speech, written something for him in a birthday card, and even gone as far as stealing a rose from someone’s backyard to give him too.

Fizzarolli would have never even dreamed he’d have ever done all that for him, because he didn’t give him the card, and he didn’t give him the rose, and he didn’t tell him how he felt. Because there Fizz stood, laughing with his friends- friends! Friends who looked better and acted cooler and who were so, so much more interesting than Blitzø could ever be. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he was still young. He still let his jealousy get the best of him, still let the frustration of feeling pathetic for even considering the chance that his best friend could feel the same way he did consume him.

But, as angry, as frustrated, as sad as he was, he never meant for it all to happen.

The fire changed everything.

His mother was gone because of him. His best friend almost died because of him. Barbie only went unharmed in sheer, dumb luck. Everyone’s lives were ruined, and it was all his fault. 

And so he decided he’d be better off far away. Not forever. Not for long. But, for now, everyone was sure to be better off without him near. He’d caused enough destruction already and he’d forever have the scars to remind him.

So he left. Simple as day, he told a crying, barely eight-year-old Barbie he’d be back soon and left a note for his father to find and give Fizz when he recovered. 

Not forever. Not for long. 

The next time he saw his sister again was nine years later. And he tried. He so desperately tried to be present again. But Barbie didn’t seem to think it was fair of him to go no-contact for so many years. Yes, their father sucked- but leaving meant he left her to grow up alone with him. She lost a mother too. He wished things were different, but couldn’t blame her.

Two years later, at nineteen years old, was the first time Barbie had to be checked into rehab. Blitzø went there to visit every week, of course, but she never let him in. 

Just like Fizz, no matter how many times he tried, she simply didn’t want to see him.

After the fire happened, Blitzø decided he wouldn’t work as a clown ever again, cutting short his own big, flashy dreams.

 But that was the only thing he ever learned to do, and that made things difficult. For years on end, he had to jump from one job to another, trying to find anything he could to make a living for himself. 

He was never all that eager to admit to this part of his past, but there were times during which he’d slept on the streets or forced himself onto one one-night stand after the other just to have a place to crash. At some point, he found himself gambling the little money he got from working here and there. 

That’s how he met Verosika Mayday, anyway. At a cheap, dark, dirty club in Lust, as he tried to drink his sorrows away and let his luck decide whether he’d be able to pay for his stay at some gross little inn room down in Greed for the night or not, and she tried to kickstart her singing career, standing on the poor-lit makeshift stage with her electric-pink electric guitar and singing something barely anyone was paying any attention to.

A few years later came Loona. And Loona was love at first sight. At first, he wasn’t looking for a hellhound like her to adopt. He wanted a pet. 

But she looked so scared and angry, and so, so much like himself. She was about to be thrown out of the system into the streets to fend for herself at only eighteen. He knew what that was like entirely all too well, and he knew it wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person ever, but if only he could be something like a family to her, if only he could help her in any way so she didn't have to be all alone…

He adopted her immediately. 

It was a crazy idea, for many, very obvious reasons. First off, he’d just started making enough to make rent for a one-bedroom apartment in a shitty side of imp city. Second off, even though he was doing slightly better, he still barely made enough to feed himself alone. Third off, he had no fucking clue how to be a parent. Much less how to parent a teenager. 

But he made it work. He promised himself he’d make it work. He worked everywhere he could find, doing anything he possibly could (and, in hell, that meant anything), at any crazy hour, to make enough to support Loona. He bought books about parenting that he couldn't really read much of because most of them were targeted to soon-to-be parents of… well, babies, and included nonsense, fancy-pants words he didn’t have the patience to try and understand, but he tried his best to be a good parent to her. 

He never forced her to call him dad or anything of the sort, because he could understand how that was probably hard. He still couldn’t stop himself from shedding a few emotional tears when she did, even if most times were slip-ups. 

About a year or so later, he was set on a goal: he wanted to make a living for himself. Really make a living. Blitzø was tired of putting himself through every single job he could find just to barely make enough for him and Loona.

Well, it’s not exactly like he’d be the winner in a competition for the best morals in hell.

He started stealing. What? This was hell! 

The lifestyle went surprisingly well for him. He wasn’t making bank, but it beat working like 24 hours a day to barely survive. As time went on, though, he started getting more and more confident. Stealing more, from wealthier, more influential people, pushing himself to do better each time things went well for him, having fun with letting things get more violent and subsequently bringing attention to himself. 

He was bound to steal too close to the sun someday. After a particularly… well, greedy robbery down by the Greed ring, things went south quickly, resulting in his arrest. 

Jail sucked, but honestly, he’d had worse. And, hey, his cellmate was sufficiently cool. 

Moxxie wouldn’t tell him much about his past or how he ended up there, but that wasn’t to worry when he didn’t particularly want to do the same either. What mattered was he had a plan to escape and a plan for after that and Moxxie could be of assistance. 

Escaping wasn’t easy, and the two of them didn’t leave exactly unharmed, but it was successful. 

The grand plan for after that was to start a company that specified in hired assassinations. Moxxie wasn’t perfectly happy with the idea, but damn was he good with a gun. 

But two not-even-that-much-experienced assassins didn’t really make a company, did they?

After a lot of convincing, even though they didn’t even keep in contact quite as much as they used to anymore, he somehow got y/n, a succubus he’d become friends with about a year before, to agree to work with them. 

Okay, three’s a crowd. 

Millie joined in not long after. 

Four’s a party. Or, well, an assassination company.

They worked phenomenally well all together as a team- even Loona was brought into the business, though Blitzø never really let her participate in the killing. Business went okay… until it didn’t. Things didn’t work as well in reality as they did in their minds- not for very long, at least. 

And so Blitzø had to bring back into light the same dumb, far-fetched idea he’d had a year earlier.

“What if we could kill humans?” He blurted out during a meeting in which the point of discussion was how to increase business.

You made a face at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I mean it. Like, imagine how many of these sinners are walking around here just double-dying to have someone that they hate up there dead too. We’d have clients like forever!”

“If that were possible, Blitzø.,” Millie chimed in.

“It is possible.”

“Boss, no offense, but did you hit your head again?” Moxxie questioned, understandably confused.

“Y/n knows what I'm talking about!”

“What? No I don't.”

“Yeah you do. Your best friend Ozzie-boy has something that could let us do that.”

“Are you- wait.” There’s no fucking way. “When we met- were you- were you trying to steal an asmodean crystal?”

“I was not not trying to steal an asmodean crystal.”

“Uh, what is an asmodean crystal?” Loona asked, and you were surprised she’d even been paying attention.

You sighed. “Asmodeus has these enchanted crystals that can be used to create portals to the living world. We- uh- we get to use them at times. When necessary.”

“See? It’s perfect! He’d totally give you one.”

“Not for this. I think you forgot Fizzarolli hates your guts. Ozzie’s not gonna give me a crystal so I can help you with something. Really what the fuck did you even do to this guy?”

Blitzø ignored your last question completely. “He let you work with me,” he commented, matter-of-factly.

“He’s not my owner, asshole. But no. It’s not happening.”

Well, he'd really hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, but… he did know someone else who had a little something that could grant access to the living world.

A/N: I bet with so much complaining yall werent expecting this to actually come out huh expect the unexpected

[chanceofwhat]

Aroace positivity to outnumber the bots in our tags:

1. First of all, you are valid. Aroace, aroallo, and amatoace people are all inherently LGBTQ+ enough. It’s stupid to say otherwise. The queer community is (generally, and I’m v sorry if I miss anyone here,) for anyone who experiences attraction or gender differently from the current default social norm of cishet. Experiencing it not at all is plenty different enough.

2. This stuff is SO CONFUSING. It’s OKAY if you don’t understand your own feelings. Feelings are WEIRD. I’ve felt what I can only describe as strong queerplatonic attraction 3 times in my life, and in hindsight I can even identify my “type,” but I’m 20 so 3 isn’t very many and also I was equally happy dating them and not dating them.

2.5. (Story) I recently told my dad that my roomie and I are planning to still live together after college, and his response was “so you guys are officially a couple now?” ?????bro WHY would I do that? WHAT part of “living together” necessitates DATING?? That sounds STRESSFUL! Which brings me to,

3. AmatoAllos are going to struggle to understand. This is normal, fine, and not your fault. They can’t conceive of someone not experiencing sensations that are such a notable part of their lives. Be patient and don’t try to force them to get something they just don’t get, but also, that struggle is NOT an excuse to treat you poorly, NOT an excuse to try to push you into dating or copulating when you don’t want to, and NOT an excuse to not listen to you or to invalidate your experiences.

In summary: You’re not wrong, you’re not broken, you’re just different. Different is a neutral trait. If I could choose to stop being aroace right now? I genuinely don’t know what I’d do. Sure, sounds easier to fit into society, and I’d like to stop stressing about what my life will look like without that expected piece, but if I’m all distracted by crushes and wet dreams, how am I ever going to take over the world?! Also the ace and aro communities are some of the kindest and most accepting and more comforting I’ve ever seen, so I wouldn’t wanna give that up. I love myself exactly the way I am.

Love yourself the way you are. I know it can be hard sometimes, but we have to try. Eventually, you get used to loving yourself and it becomes second nature, or a habit at the very least.

I rambled a lot here and it ended up long and wacky, but I’m not sorry because ADHD is part of who I am and I love who I am so. Deal with it. But yea the point is no bots can get in the way of our powerful community and we’re going to eat cake and garlic bread and take over the world.

[bbina]

"took you guys long enough" sungchan comments, standing up from the hood of his car. he was waiting for a while at the convenience store you three always go to.

you let out a huff as you get out of the car. "tell that to this jackass over here who decided to take the longer route" you throw your thumb back at eunseok who was ranting about he didn't expect to run into a traffic jam caused by a car accident

shortly after arriving you three buy your usual stuff inside the convenience store before settling at the parking lot, just talking about sungchan's current dilemma

"she just suddenly broke it off with me today while on a date like?" sungchan starts, pausing to chew his ramen. you stare at him with wide eyes. so it is true, that he and yujin are now over. for good

"all i did was say hi to wonbin and y/n since we were in the same restaurant" sungchan continues, eyebrows beginning to furrow as he recalls what happened

eunseok lets out a chucke and pokes the side of your head, "so it's your fault why they broke up" he jokes

you felt yourself heat up. instantly, you smacked your older brother in the chest. eunseok makes an "oof" sound before choking on his food. sungchan panics and gives him his drink

"what the fuck, y/n?! take a joke!" eunseok manages to choke out

"you didn't cause the breakup, y/n" sungchan hurriedly says, afraid that you'd avoid him longer if you had the assumption that it was on you (when it kinda lowkey was because of you)

sungchan burps before continuing

"as i was saying, she always had a problem with y/n and i'm not really sure why? like obviously she's my best friend but she kept making weird assumptions between y/n and i"

your heart drops. did sungchan's girlfriend figure you out all along?

"why can't she understand that y/n is just a friend" eunseok scoffs, in disbelief that his girlfriend was that insecure of you, his sister

sungchan throws his hands up in the air to show his frustrations

"exactly! no matter how hard i reassure her that it's just platonic she just puts words into my mouth.." sungchan huffs. he suddenly turns to you with sad eyes

"i'm really sorry for what i said that night y/n. i didn't mean for it to sound like that. i just couldn't believe that you're with wonbin and you didn't tell me"

you held in your breath as you take in his apology. right, you were with wonbin. for a second there you forgot about your situation

"i can never stay mad at you forever, jinsu" you say with a small smile, leaning in for a hug. sungchan doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. finally you have your best friend back

"hey! what about me!" eunseok complains as he engulfs you and sungchan into his embrace. you let out giggles as eunseok easily had you both in his arms. how you missed this, how you missed hanging out with the closest people around you.

between the lines ★ for my eyes only

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

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★ notes .ᐟ double update like i said <3 anyway more drama 🤩

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug