#god ive stared at this for so long that i kind of hate it now but thats alright

[spiderziege]

withering heights

[hsnlv]

soft beginnings | s.jy

pairing: dad-to-be!jake x mom-to-be!reader

synopsis: you and jake are getting ready for your baby, but jake��s full of doubts about fatherhood. with plenty of laughter, love, and tiny socks, you learn that even the smallest moments can mean the world.

warnings: fluff!, jake has self-doubt but it’s adorable dont worry >< reader is pregnant if that is not clear (i love pregnant tropes actually because it’s cute hehe)

wc: 1.1k

a/n: ive been writing a lot lately since im currently on semester break but enjoy ^^

jake sat on the nursery floor, holding a pair of impossibly small socks between his fingers like they were some kind of alien artifact. his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a pout that you would’ve called adorable if he wasn’t so deadly serious.

“okay, babe,” he said finally, holding the socks up for emphasis. “these cannot be for a human. i don’t care what you say.”

you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing from your spot on the rocking chair, where you were sorting through a mountain of baby clothes. “jake, they’re for a newborn. they’re supposed to be that tiny.”

he squinted at the socks like they might reveal their secrets if he stared long enough. “nope. sorry. these are for a hamster. or maybe a very small rabbit.”

“are you calling our baby a rabbit?” you teased, grinning as you leaned back in the chair.

“i’m just saying,” he continued, waving the socks around like he was making a grand point. “what if their feet don’t fit? what if their toes are too big? i don’t even know what baby feet look like!”

you laughed so hard that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m serious!” he insisted, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him. “what if i try to put these on and they just�� fall off? or what if i lose one? it’s not like i can run to the store and ask for replacement jellybean-sized socks!”

that did it—you dissolved into giggles, your belly shaking as you leaned forward. “jake, you’re going to be fine,” you said, wiping your eyes. “i promise, putting socks on a baby isn’t as hard as you think.”

he flopped dramatically onto his back, groaning. “i’m not ready for this.”

“you are,” you said, crawling over to him and sitting on your knees by his side. you rested your chin on his chest, tilting your head to look up at him. “you’re going to be the best dad ever.”

he gazed down at you, his expression softening, but you could still see the hint of doubt in his eyes. “you really think so?”

“i know so,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “you’ve got the dad jokes down already. the rest is just practice.”

he groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “yeah, but what about the important stuff? like… like making bottles. or changing diapers! do you know how many straps and tabs those things have? it’s like trying to assemble IKEA furniture!”

you snorted, pressing your forehead to his chest as you laughed. “it’s not that bad.”

“it is that bad,” he said, sitting up suddenly. his hands flailed a bit as he tried to explain. “and what if i don’t wake up when the baby cries? or—or what if i hold them wrong? what if i drop them? oh my god, what if i don’t know how to swaddle? they’re gonna hate me.”

“jake.” you placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “take a deep breath.”

he inhaled shakily, his wide eyes locking onto yours.

“you’re not going to drop the baby,” you said firmly. “or hold them wrong. and even if you mess up the first swaddle, or it takes you a few tries to get the diaper right, it’s okay. you’ll figure it out.”

he didn’t look entirely convinced, so you leaned closer, your voice softer now. “do you remember when we first got peanut?”

he blinked, his brows furrowing. “our dog?”

“yeah. you were so nervous about training him. you kept googling everything, and you were convinced he was going to hate you because you couldn’t get him to sit on command.”

jake huffed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “okay, yeah, but peanut was a little menace at first.”

“he was,” you agreed, grinning. “but you didn’t give up. you were so patient and sweet with him, and now he listens to you better than he listens to me.”

jake let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

“it’s going to be the same with the baby,” you said, brushing your thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “you’re going to love them so much that none of the little mistakes will matter. and they’re definitely not going to hate you for struggling with a diaper or two.”

“you sure about that?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“absolutely,” you said, smiling.

he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “what would i do without you?”

“probably drown in a pile of tiny socks,” you teased, laughing softly.

“you’re not wrong,” he muttered, but he was smiling again.

you both sat there for a moment, the quiet hum of the nursery filling the air. then jake pulled back slightly, his hand drifting to your belly.

“hey, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. “just so you know, your mom’s the best person in the world. so if i mess up, she’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. and if you could, uh… maybe go easy on me with the diapers, that’d be great.”

you laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “stop making deals with the baby!”

“what? i’m just saying!” he said, grinning.

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly, murmuring something too quiet for you to hear. when he sat up again, his eyes were brighter, his usual spark returning.

“okay,” he said, grabbing the tiny socks and holding them up like a trophy. “we’re definitely framing these.”

“i knew you’d come around,” you said, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

the rest of the afternoon was spent folding onesies and arranging books on the shelves, with jake tossing out ridiculous questions every five minutes.

“what if the baby doesn’t like my cooking?”

“jake, they’re not going to eat anything you cook for at least a year.”

“what if they cry every time i pick them up?”

“then you’ll hold them until they stop crying.”

“what if they call me ‘dude’ instead of ‘dad’?”

“then they’re definitely your kid.”

by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the nursery was mostly finished. the crib stood in the corner, draped with a soft, pastel blanket, and the bookshelf was packed with stories you couldn’t wait to read aloud.

you stood in the doorway with jake, his arm around your shoulders as you both took in the space.

“it’s perfect,” you murmured, leaning into his side.

“almost perfect,” he said, resting a hand on your belly. “just missing one thing.”

you smiled, your hand covering his. “they’ll be here soon enough.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice filled with quiet awe. “soon enough,” he echoed.

and in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter and the promise of something even sweeter, you knew your little family was already complete in all the ways that mattered.

[sturnsmadl]

mute 2.

< previous

contains-no use of y/n, cursing, light fluff, unestablished friendship, mentions of tough time at school

pairing- grumpy!chris x mute!reader

please read the authors note at the bottom :)

its chris' second day and to your suprise he's not very liked so far, you managed to escape from him yesterday but today was different. it was like he was tracing your every step because when you turn around? he's there. it was lunch period and normally you go to the old makeout cupboard, where everyone would go make out with their boyfriends, seniors, ex's and even other people's girlfriends. that was until the teachers found out and another random closet started getting used. instead of constantly sitting in a bathroom stool and getting made fun of you starting using the closet to finally eat lunch in peace.

Flashback!!

after you left the classroom you head straight for the cupboard and sit down on the floor against one of the shelving units. you open ur beat up, pink lunchbox you've had for as long as you can remember and look over what you packed for yourself today. lunch ends just before u can finish and you pack up quickly, needing to leave the cupboard before the halls fill up and people realise where you disappear to at lunch.

Flashback ends!!

unfortunately chris had a feeling, and a strong one too. chris could sense something was off about your silence and even if you were hated for it he would figure out what it was, he'd made the effort to follow you around like a spy for the whole day and at lunch he finally saw where you disappeared into yesterday. he has no clue why your hiding in there all the time but he knows he's going to find out either way. he follows you and waits a few minutes before opening the door and going in, closing it behind him. you look up from the floor and see him, your heart immediately stops and you, as usual stay completely silent.

"what the fuck..."

he stares at you then you see his expression slightly soften which suprises you as its completely different from the whole mean, tough demeanor he gives off. he sits down opposite you and sighs to himself as he looks around where youve been sitting at lunch for god knows how long.

"what are you doing? there's empty tables out there.."

you shrug softly obviously not going to speak and tell him your hiding so no one can see you eating alone, he looks at your beat lunchbox, your old backpack and your clothes and he can already tell your not the luckiest of people but he still thinks your insanely beautiful and just simply misunderstood.

weeks later

its been around 2 weeks since chris found your spot and everyday without fail he's came in and sat on the cold floor with you to eat his lunch just so ur not completely alone. he's always rambling about his day or how another teacher has become one of his worst for simply asking him to do his work, of course you dont say anything but you listen to him and you nod to show him your listening. you've weirdly became kind of comfortable around chris which isnt a feeling youve felt in a while and your honestly thinking about speaking to him while he rants on about how shit his old school was and how he's glad he was finally kicked out so he could start again. your so tempted to speak and while he's mid sentence you crack.

he groans " and the gym teacher? actually the biggest dick ive ev-"

"chris." you whisper just loud enough for his head to shoot up in shock.

a/n- ok i know this is also very boring :/ but i swear now that shes talking its gonna be a lottt better and more entertaining!

edit- wait i hate this dm omg. i promise promise promise that next part will be juicyyy

tags! @bellaonthelow @muchloveforhacker @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @watchu-mean-baby-keem @babyalliah-777 @imtheprett @sturniolo-fann @coochiedestroyer1 @scarlettbitches

[biinkuuo]

Confession

Chifuyu x Fem!reader

Hello! its been a long time since i posted but i was really inspired by some fanfics I read and since my Jim headcanons were received very well, i decided to do a fic of chifuyu :3

You and Chifuyu had been bestfriends forever, ever since you can remember, you used to have so much fun with him, Baji, Ryusei and the rest of the gang.

You always had a bit of an intrest for Chifuyu, and not the friendly kind, a more... romantic kind? You didnt want to act on it, what if it was just infatuation? what if it ruined your friendship with him? So you decided that for the sake of everyone (and yourself) that you would NEVER confess nor act on those feelings.

But one day, one fatal but beautiful day, Chifuyu confessed to you. Fuyu has always been very cliche, y'know, all those mangas got into his head, so he did the most cliche thing ever, he put a note on your locker, it said "meet me at the rooftop after school, we need to talk".

After your club activities (and going to the bathroom for half an hour to calm yourself down), with your heart on your throat, you started walking up the stairs that led to the rooftop, you could hear every step you took with an echo, your heart thumping and your whole body trembling.

Finally, the top of the stairs, as the doors were staring right back at you you opened them and there he was, Chifuyu, with a love letter in his hands, messy hair, unbuttoned shirt and completely red in the face.

"Oh! o-oh my god, hi, hi, hello, wha-whats up? hey.."

why did he have to be so cute? damn him.

"H-hey Fuyu! um, I received your letter! i-in my locker, uh... what did you want to talk to me about huh? um.. sounded important eh? hehe..."

You laughed uncomfortably, trying to hide your embarrasment, you knew perfectly what he wanted to talk about, sadly, he was way too obvious with his feelings, plus, rooftop? note in the locker? letter with a heart to seal it? c'mon, he couldnt be more obvious.

"W-well.. uuuh... s-shit, im really doing this.. um, so uh... ok.. Y/N, you know we've been friends for a long time right?"

"yeah?..."

"Well" he said, a long sigh leaving his mouth "For a long time now, I've been having some... toughts, about.. us. I.. think... you are an amazing person, magnificent even, and, for some time, those... thoughts.. became something else."

"Fuyu..."

"And you know, lately, we have been spending more time togheter, and I've had so much fun"

"Fuyu."

"So because of this time we've had together, ive developed... something... and I dont want this to ruin what we have now, I love our friendship and i wouldn't trade it for any-"

"Chifuyu!"

"Huh? what? is something wrong?"

"I know, Fuyu." the words sounded more harsh as they were leaving your mouth "You certainly don't hide your feelings very well y'know?"

He seemed a bit disappointed, a sad look on his face as he looked at the floor "Oh... I.. I guess I wasn't huh..." why did he have to be like that, you asked yourself.

"No! nonononononono! it isn't like that Fuyu! I- I like you too! for like.. I dunno, years? since we were like 10, I love the way you're so dorky and cliche, I adore your love for animals and I especially love how... you are.. so... kind and cute and respectful and... pretty" your lovely voice was music to his ears, your words were a warm embrace for his heart.

"W-wait... you-you really mean it?! oh-oh my god! I-I've been dreaming of this moment forever! im the happiest man alive Y/N."

"O-oh Fuyu... stop.. you are making me blush..." your blushing face was so cute for him, he just wanted to kiss you so badly "Say, Y/N, since we.. y'know, are dating now I suppose, can I... kiss you? please."

"Yes, Fuyu.. of course"

Im so sorry if this isnt so good :( I really put a lot of effort on it, I've never done more than headcanons, let me know if you want anymore fics or headcanons! I do NSFW and also SFW :D

Credits to @joontroverted , her baji fic "hate the way you smile" really inspired me! and also credits to @mbbmz , they both really inspired me to write this fic, so thank you!

I would really appreciate likes and reblogs :3

[212-apricity]

1999, part four - final part!

oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡

lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!

warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing

conrad fisher masterlist

masterlist

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conrad’s pov

Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.

No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.

Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.

I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.

Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.

The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.

"Here." I pass it to her.

Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.

"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."

Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.

"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.

"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."

Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.

"I don't care.”

The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.

She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.

The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.

“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."

Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"

"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.

I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.

Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.

"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.

"Why?"

She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."

I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.

She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.

The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.

"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.

"How?"

"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"

She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."

I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."

"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.

"I'm absolutely terrified."

"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.

Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.

"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.

She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.

Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"

The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.

Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.

The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.

"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.

The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."

Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.

Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.

The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.

"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."

The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.

Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.

"You find this funny?"

She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."

"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."

"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.

"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.

"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.

Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.

“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.

I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”

God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.

She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.

“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.

I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”

She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.

"What’s wrong?”

She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"

My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.

"You're afraid of needles?"

She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."

“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."

“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”

I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.

"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.

*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.

Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.

"I'm joking.”

She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"

Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.

“Did you just laugh?”

"No."

“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.

“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."

Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."

"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.

Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.

That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.

The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."

Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."

I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."

The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."

"Please don't encourage her."

The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.

“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her

"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.

Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"

"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.

"Okay..." the doctor says.

Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?

You hate it when she cries.

You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.

You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.

The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.

Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."

"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."

"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.

I grab it from her and fill it out.

She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."

That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.

As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.

It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.

You’re in love with her.

Fuck.

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y/n’s pov

We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.

“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.

Comfortable silence is so overrated.

I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.

“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.

Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”

His restlessness gets me more agitated.

“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.

“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.

Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.

I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.

I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.

“Hey.”

Steven. Thank God.

“Steve…” I say sniffling.

He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.

“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”

I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”

Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.

“He really cares about you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.

I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.”

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

“No it’s not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”

Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”

After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.

I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.

I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.

Or should I say someone.

“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.

He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.

“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.

“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.

God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”

“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.

“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”

“No way.”

“Nine then.”

“Five.”

“Eight and a half.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.

“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”

“How about seven words then?”

I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I am falling in love with you.”

I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.

Absolutely no fucking way.

Right?

I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.

"You're joking.

"I'm not."

"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."

"You're lying."

His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."

"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.

"Because I did it for you."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."

Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.

What can I possibly say that could compare to that?

Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.

I nod.

"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."

If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.

I take a deep breath.

Remember what he did.

“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."

"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.

"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."

"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.

"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.

My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.

“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."

How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?

A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.

I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.

"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."

This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.

"Your logic is half-baked at best."

"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."

His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."

"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."

"He’s obligated to."

"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."

He takes a deep breath. "You're right."

I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."

He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."

I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”

"Tell me what's stopping you."

"You don't do relationships."

“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."

I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”

“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.

"Do you always have an answer for everything?"

"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.

Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.

You might get hurt.

I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.

I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.

He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.

I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."

He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.

Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.

I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.

He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.

                ༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...

anyways, onto the next one😍🙏

again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!

[mamawasatesttube]

Hi hello,

Random question, but what do you headcannon cassie to look like and dress through-out her teens into adulthood? Both as wondergirl and as cassie? On that same vein, what adult superhero name do you like for her?

Anywhoosies, wishing u a great day!

late teenage into early 20s cassie is grappling with comp het pretty hard and tries to grow her hair out and dress more femme. she hates it but she doesn't know she hates it for a hot minute. this is both as wonder girl and as cassie because she barely exists as a civilian at all for a long time. "cassie sandsmark" publicly was wonder girl for a while, and she tried coming up with a fake name and identity to be a civilian again in tt03, but it was rough on her and she ultimately gave up on it.

so i think that really just weighs on her - she's a hero 24/7, she's leading the titans, she's basically letting the vigilante life consume her and she's gonna crash and burn out hard any day now. i think donna sees this and goes hey... you know you don't have to be exactly like me, right? in fact i think you need a vacation. let's go to themyscira for a bit. and its big sis lil sis bonding time but also for the first time cassie catches herself thinking um... women 😳 women? 😳 oh god. women 😳 and she has a whole crisis about it.

when she comes back from her vacation she does feel a lot more in touch with herself. the problem is that what she sees there (dissatisfied with her work-life balance, worn out, starting to confront her internalized homophobia) freaks her out. so she kind of has a crisis and hacks her hair off with a pair of scissors in the middle of the night and then looks in the mirror like. oh GOD. what did i DO??? oh god oh fuck who do i know who can fix this and won't ask me questions if i say i don't wanna talk about it hhghnggrhgnn...

so she shows up in kansas wearing a beanie at like 1am like kon Please. help. 😭 and she feels So guilty bc he's her ex and he's still kind and loving enough that he does get out of bed despite having an early morning with farm chores, and then he's all sleepily shuffling to the bathroom with her like here. sit. i'll fix your bangs. jeez. and the vibes are so... you know. bathroom light late at night spilling into the hallway. he's cutting her hair. krypto is peering at them from the doorway like why the fuck are you awake. cassie's on the verge of tears bc she wants to tell him why she did this but she's terrified it'd hurt him if she was like i think i was never actually in love with you

but when she finally says it he just stares at her. and then stares at her some more. and then he starts? laughing?? and at first she's kind of hurt like uh. that was serious and also pretty hard to say, what's so funny. and hes just almost in tears holding her hands in the bathroom by the sink like. cassie. ive been so scared of telling you i think im gay. for like. 3 months now. cassie i hooked up with an alien several weeks ago and i had a whole crisis i just refused to tell anyone about. um. yeah. and she's like. YOU WHAT? ALIEN HOOKUP? CONNER KENT? and hes like NOOOO WE ARENT TALKING ABOUT IT. YOURE A LESBIAN LETS TALK ABOUT THAT. but its like. oh! and they click back into place as best friends instead so much more easily than they ever dated. it's about the late night catharsis of it all.

this is a lot of words to say that after this i think she embraces the short hair and starts leaning into masc presentation again. i am a butch cassie truther for LIFE. get that girl some cargo shorts and a carabiner for her lasso STAT. i'm talking those truly heinous cargo pants that unzip at the knees to become shorts. formal cassie rocks the blazer with a bra underneath look. cassie lingerie is a tank top with no bra. she's butch to the bone baybee

as for her adult hero name, i still kinda waffle about it but i've Tentatively settled on "xenia"!! it's taken from one of zeus's epithets and has to do with hospitality, kindness, and the protection of strangers (yknow those rules about breaking bread with strangers etc, those are also called xenia). the og meaning had to do with the idea that a stranger could be a god in disguise so you should always honor strangers, but i think cassie would do a sort of converse of that with it, like i've got the power and i'm gonna use it to protect people i don't know, not for the idea of a boon but because it's who i am. still potentially workshopping this, though.

[steven-has-exploded]

ive yet to really see anyone else point this out but i think fyodor is going to end up being one of the most gut-wrenchingly unstable and sympathetic (to ME atleast) characters in bsd. what i perceive as foreshadowing for this has all been pretty vague, but thats really only further ammunition considering the way asagiri likes to write via throwing the wildest shit at us out of nowhere at 50mph and expecting us to deal with it. how did i first come to this conclusion? harukawas eye thing

this is going to be long please proceed with caution if you read slowly or just not at literal supersonic speed. rant under cut u know how this works

for those unaware or who have since forgotten the exact details, here is the image explaining harukawas thing with eyes, click to read;

so. fyodors eyes are usually very light, which a few other people have pointed out is probably due to the fact he genuinely believes his goal of ridding the world of abilities is following gods will; almost everything he does is a necessary evil to acheive the idealistic dream of a world without abilities. he understands his actions are wrong, but you cant go through with a goal such as that without doing morally reprehensible things in the process. anws so as user wildflowerteas pointed out his eyes are extremely dark after hes resurrected

now, could this just be signifying that fyodor can now continue doing his fucked up little deeds via his functional immortality? yes. but asagiri doesnt seem to write that way and i need an excuse to defend fyodor because im insane

asagiri generally doesnt write characters, especially important ones, as subscribing to one specific side of the moral compass. sure, there are characters that are more morally good or bad or gray than others, but not every one of their actions is as such. characters arent straight heroes or villains in their actions, and sometimes not even narratively; fitzgerald did everything for his wife to finally be happy and see her daughter again, dazai still trained akutagawa the way he did despite knowing it was abusive because his circumstances couldnt allow him to change before oda died, et cetera

so, lets interpret it another way. fyodors eyes being dark after resurrection may not be a reflection of his sinister personality, but rather the way he views and experiences his own countless deaths. he is purified in death and tainted when hes brought back; at peace in his last moments and destroyed when hes alive again. so what conclusion did this realization bring me to? fyodor is a suicidal maniac and hates his ability hear me out Please

in hindsight it seems really obvious to me now; what other reason could have spurred him on to try to desperately to erase abilities if not because he himself despises his own? his ability is truly the purest act of cruelty someone can experience when driven to the point he has been; it lets him bask in the calm of death, the comfort of everything finally ending, the solace that hes going to be finally rewarded for his actions by god. but only for a moment. once that moment is over, hes torn back into the world of the living, in the body of his own killer, the corpse of his last vessel staring him in the face as if to mock him for what he could never have. it deprives him of the human right to even die. what kind of person who claims to love all humanity wouldnt want to free the world of abilities, if others' have caused them as much pain as his has to him?

okok i apologize for making u hear me wax poetic about an anime twink version of fyodor dostoevsky but if youre still not convinced, which is ok i can see why this would be very insane to someone who isnt obsessed with this guy, i want you to just imagine for a moment how living with that kind of power would effect you. while we dont know fyodors exact age, we can assume that hes been alive for at least about 500 years due to his ability. fyodor isnt some kind of immortal being that has a conveniently human form, he is an actual human being who was first murdered presumably just in his twenties based on his appearance, who then had to slowly come to the realization that he will experience small spots of death before having to continue the same cycle of immortality for forever. human beings cant grasp the concept of infinity; our brains arent wired to deal with the idea, because everything in our own lives comes to an end. fyodor will never experience that. even if you view him as plain evil, pure and simple, no human being wishes to have their brain broken by the hands of infinity. and yet thats what fyodor is experiencing

[hyuge]

Hospital Blues and Fantasy Hues

The lights are too bright, and the smell of antiseptic constantly tickles his nose as Katsuki lays in the godforsaken hospital bed after the war. Everything aches and it’s hard to breathe most days. The doctors said one of his lungs collapsed when his heart exploded. Turns out threading the muscle fibers of a heart back together in the middle of a war zone is a terrible way to triage a fatal wound but if it hadn’t been done, Katsuki would never have made it to the hospital. He would have died long before the battle ended, and that thought terrifies him. The nurses have to sedate him at night in order for him to get any sleep otherwise the night terrors make him thrash violently, ripping out wires, stitches, and IVs. It's a headache for everyone involved and sometimes Katsuki wishes the pro heroes hadn’t sacrificed so much to save him. Edgeshot is gone, and for what? He’s a mess. He’ll never be able to use his quirk the same way again. He’ll likely never be able to go pro now. His power has been cut in half. A prosthetic can’t sweat, which means he can now only create explosive blasts from his left hand. He won’t be able to fly anymore. God, Katsuki was so elated the first time he successfully flew in the air. There was nothing more freeing than launching himself hundreds of feet above the ground in a matter of seconds. Even Bird Brain can’t go that fast.

It's one of his bad days, where he’s left alone with his thoughts, staring out the window as life goes on, when there’s a knock at the door. It opens without him responding. It still hurts to talk. The nurses and doctors tell him he needs to conserve his energy and rest. He hates laying in a bed unable to move. His gaze drifts slowly toward the door. His vision is blurry, but that bright red hair is distinguishable anywhere. Kirishima moves to sit on the left side of Katsuki’s bed where he can see him best. The doctors said they managed to save his right eye, but he’s going to need one damn strong prescription to see out of it properly again.

“How are you feeling today?” asks Kirishima, smiling softly. He asks the same question every day because he comes to visit Katsuki every day. Even his parents aren’t here that frequently. They make do but their architectural firm is even busier than before. They’re helping with the relief efforts to rebuild the country. They’re true heroes unlike the bedridden shell he has become.

Katsuki reaches for his oxygen mask and lowers it to his chin. “Wish I could leave,” he says, because it’s the truth. Maybe his mood would be better if he weren’t stuck in this bed all the time.

“They’ll let you out soon,” says Kirishima. He sets his hand atop Katsuki’s and lifts the mask back over his mouth. They both know it’s not true. He has months of extensive recovery work in the hospital before he gets out, but the warmth from Kirishima’s hand and the kindness in his voice are comforting enough that he almost believes it.

Katsuki lets his hand fall to his side and turns his head, cheek brushing against the pillow as he squints to see Kirishima better. He closes his bad eye, looking only out of his left and his vision clears. He’s wearing his school uniform. Class has been back in session for a few weeks. Kirishima must have come as soon as school let out. He’s talking about something, but Katsuki misses it. There’s a ringing in his ears that comes and goes—tinnitus, another wonderful side effect of having overworked his quirk the way he did. He tries to focus, and the ringing slowly subsides.

“—sent me flying but I was able to stop him. Man, I don’t want to praise a villain, but Rappa is so strong, and he just wants to fight other strong people. It really made me feel good that he saw me as a rival. Probably the last time I’ll get to fight him though… The government is doing a massive overhaul on all the high security prisons.”

Katsuki blinks, trying to register everything Kirishima was just saying. It’s slow. His mind is sluggish from all the painkillers he’s on. He reaches for the oxygen mask again, lowering it to speak. “You fought that big guy… from the yakuza?”

Kirishima nods. The sunlight filtering in through the hospital room window casts a halo over the crown of his head. It suits him. Kirishima has always been angelic. He shrugs, suddenly looking self-conscious about bragging and says, “Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn’t be excited. Everyone was risking their lives and I know the battles were hard. There was a lot of emotional damage done on the others: Midoriya, Uraraka, Todoroki… I guess for once it was just nice to know that a villain thought of me as their equal and wanted to fight me.”

“You’re my equal,” Katsuki says but even as he says the words, he doesn’t believe it. Not because Kirishima isn’t strong enough, no, on the contrary. He’s stronger than Katsuki. Katsuki isn’t Kirishima’s equal.

They fall into silence after that, neither one of them sure how to carry the conversation from there. Katsuki’s mind wanders. He doesn’t like it when his mind wanders. The quiet scares him, so many new fears he didn’t have before. His eyes fall shut. He’s tired, always tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep, not with Kirishima beside him.

Kirishima clears his throat. “I—uh—I’ll go. You should get some rest.”

Katsuki snaps his eyes open to see Kirishima scratching the back of his neck. He moves to stand, and Katsuki reaches for him much too quickly. He winces, feeling his stitches tug on his skin, and grabs Kirishima’s hand. “Don’t go,” he says, beneath his oxygen mask.

Kirishima sits back down slowly and carefully picks up Katsuki’s hand, placing it back on the bed. “Okay, I’ll stay,” he says. “I’m not sure what to talk about.”

Katsuki moves the stupid fucking mask. “Anything,” he croaks. “Anything to fill the silence. Please.” He hates begging. His chest aches and his throat is thick as he fights back tears. He doesn’t want the quiet to come. Mindless rambling was always annoying but not when it’s Kirishima’s. His voice fills Katsuki with immeasurable comfort. He won’t tell him that though, not in the hospital hooked up to tubes and wires. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to Kirishima but not here, not like this. So, he’d rather listen until the day comes when he can be independent again and it doesn’t hurt to breathe, when looking at the void where his arm used to be doesn’t fill him with a sadness as deep as the Mariana Trench.

“Okay,” repeats Kirishima. He sits silently, contemplating, then smiles. The evening’s golden light makes him glow as he parts his lips to speak. “Have you ever heard the story of the barbarian prince and his dragon companion?”

Katsuki knits his brows together, studying Kirishima. “No.”

“Hah. Okay.” Kirishima scratches the back of his neck again like he does when he’s nervous. What does he have to be nervous about? “It would be so cool to live in a fantasy world with magic and stuff.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Our world is fantastical enough as it is.” He puts the mask back on and sucks in a deep breath. His lungs burn but they’re thankful for the added rush of air. “Go on,” he says into the mask. It’s stifled, but Kirishima hears him. Katsuki watches the bob of Kirishima’s Adam’s apple and the way he picks at his nails. He’s stalling.

“So, once upon a time—”

“Once upon a time,” Katsuki barks. It hurts to laugh. He coughs and Kirishima admonishes him for it.

“Be quiet and let me tell the story.”

“Fine,” Katsuki concedes. He relaxes into the pillow and shuts his eyes so that he can listen properly, envisioning the world Kirishima is about to create in his head.

“A long time ago there was this fierce barbarian prince. His family owned the largest kingdom in the entire land. They were well respected; feared by their enemies and loved by their people. The prince was strong and handsome and manly. Everyone wanted to be him or court him. He was very direct about what he wanted and while it rubbed some people the wrong way, others admired him for how straightforward and determined he was. His strength wasn’t just physical either. The prince was super smart and tactical. His magic was unmatched. So, he got bored easily. There wasn’t anyone he considered his equal because of how strong he was. He wanted to fight even stronger people to prove he was worthy of leading someday.”

Katsuki lowers his mask and speaks without opening his eyes. “He sounds cool.”

“Yeah,” says Kirishima fondly. “He really is.”

That makes Katsuki crack his eye open and peer at the soft expression on Kirishima’s face, the way the corners of his mouth are just slightly upturned, and the look in his red eyes is a little distant. Katsuki’s heart aches seeing him like that and not because of his injury. Kirishima clears his throat and continues.

“The prince decided to set out on a journey to find someone he could call his equal. He met and battled all sorts of people and creatures on his journey but none he would call worthy of being his partner. He slayed some ogres, fought some bandits, cleared out a cave of goblins, and while he enjoyed the fights, they never left him feeling satisfied. He had been traveling alone for a while when he heard rumors of a dragon nearby. The prince decided to check out whether or not the rumors were true. He wanted to take on the challenge of fighting a creature as big and strong as a dragon.

“He went to the forest where the dragon’s den was supposed to be and followed a trail that seemed too big to be anything but. The dragon was eating when the prince found him. He made a warning growl, but the prince wasn’t deterred. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the dragon, shouting, ‘Hey, you overgrown lizard! I want you to fight me and if I win, you have to become my partner!’

“The dragon huffed a breath of warm air and said, ‘If I win, you’ll be dead,’ which made the prince grin triumphantly.”

Katsuki snorts. “The prince sounds like an idiot.”

“Yeah,” says Kirishima, “but that didn’t stop him. He fought the dragon with his sword and with his magic, sending waves of fireballs at the beast. It was a heated battle.” Kirishima laughs at his own joke. “The prince used his spells to propel himself into the air to avoid the dragon’s lethal tail swings and the dragon spewed flames from its mouth into the air to keep from burning the forest. The dragon was enjoying the battle almost as much as the prince was. They both found someone worth fighting for once. The sound of sword clashing against scale echoed through the trees, and trenches were dug from the dragon’s massive talons scraping against the ground. The prince was getting tired and knew if he didn’t finish the battle quickly, he would die, so he landed on the dragon’s snout and swung his sword, slashing just above the dragon’s eye where the scales were thinnest.

The dragon shook him off and wrapped its giant hands over its face, covering its eye. Gradually, it’s size began to shrink until it was the size of a human man. The dragon stood in front of the prince with one hand covering his eye and the other held out for the prince to shake. ‘Looks like you win,’ said the dragon. The prince stared at him, surprised to see the dragon look so human. His eyelid was bleeding, but the dragon didn’t seem to care. He smiled at the prince and spread his large red wings wide behind his back.

“‘You can shapeshift!’ said the prince, taking the dragon’s hand. The dragon nodded and pulled his other hand away from his face with blood trickling down his cheek. The prince pulled his hand free and tore a part of his cloak, handing it to the dragon. ‘Here. Use this to help stop the bleeding,’ he said. The dragon took it and pressed it to his eye.”

A knock on the door startles them both and Katsuki looks to see the nurse walk in. “Apologies, but visiting hours are over now.”

Kirishima bows apologetically. “Sorry. I’ll go now.” He turns to Katsuki and smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bakugou.”

Katsuki pulls the mask off his face and takes a slow breath. “You better tell me the rest of the story.”

Kirishima beams at him, thrilled that Katsuki wants him to continue. “Promise.” He holds out his pinky and even though Katsuki rolls his eyes, he happily locks pinkies.

***

Kirishima returns the next day as soon as school lets out. He’s red in the face from running the whole way from the bus stop. Katsuki’s brows arch as he watches Kirishima stumble to take his seat next to the bed. “H-hey,” he greets, breathless.

Katsuki lowers his mask. “Why the rush?” His voice is raspy. He had physical therapy earlier in the day which resulted in an abundance of shouting and cursing from the pain.

Kirishima drops his bag on the floor and slides the chair up against Katsuki’s bed, placing himself inches away. “Just wanted to get here as quickly as possible. I know how lonely you get.”

“M’not lonely.”

They both know it’s a lie, but Kirishima doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, he smiles and says, “Where did we leave off yesterday?”

Katsuki buries himself in the pillows and holds his oxygen mask in his hand. “Shitty dragon lost to the prince.” The elastic on the mask snaps and smacks against his face. Katsuki scowls.

“You deserved that,” teases Kirishima. “The dragon isn’t shitty. He’s manly.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Kirishima starts to talk again, recounting the story as if he had been there in that fantasy land. The dragon and the barbarian prince travel together. They make the perfect pair and even though the prince beats him in battle, he doesn’t look down on the dragon. They’re a partner duo, not master/servant. They spend all their time together visiting new lands, fighting monsters, defeating bad guys, taking on odd jobs when one is posted. They don’t need the money, the prince brought a hefty amount of coin with him on his journey and the dragon has a lofty sum accumulated in his horde, but they take the pay. They donate it whenever possible. The prince never tells anyone who he is. He wants to see the kingdoms as a traveler, not as royalty, and he doesn’t fear death by anonymity. They’re too strong to be killed.

“—the dragon admired the barbarian prince. Everyone admired him. The people they helped showered him with praise, but they were wary of the dragon. Whenever they turned in a job, the dragon would stay back so that the villagers wouldn’t be afraid. The prince would collect their reward and head back to him. He always smiled after hearing how good of a job he did. When the dragon would tell him the same, he’d just shrug it off and say it wasn’t a big deal.

“The dragon would brush it off. He was happy enough just getting to adventure with the prince, so they’d head to the next town and take another job. They’d camp in the woods or find an inn to stay at. It was the two of them against the world.”

Everyday after school Kirishima would rush to Katsuki’s bedside. Work studies are canceled for the near future, so he has time to kill. The HPSC and the Japanese government are both in the middle of rebuilding. Because of that, they decided that student hero work would be put on pause indefinitely. That was one less thing for Katsuki to worry about falling behind at, not that he has any shot of going pro anymore.

He listens as Kirishima continues to tell stories about the dragon with his impenetrable scales and the barbarian prince with his explosive fire magic. With each visit, Kirishima becomes livelier with his storytelling. Katsuki watches as he jumps around the room, pretending to be the characters fighting. He watches the way Kirishima stands on the chair as if they’ve just conquered a battle. He laughs when the nurses chide him for his outlandish behavior, and Kirishima’s forced to apologize and sit down. It brightens Katsuki’s days, and he feels less like he wishes he had died.

They meet other people on their adventures, but in the end, it’s always the barbarian prince and the dragon. The two of them are inseparable and they don’t feel the need to have others around for exceedingly long. They explore caves, they slay monsters, and when one is injured, the other does everything in their power to tend to the wounds. When they camp, the dragon varies between sleeping in his full form or as a human. On cold nights, he takes his true form, allowing the barbarian prince to curl up next to him and leach off his body heat. When it’s warm, they sleep in bedrolls beside one another, the campfire crackling a few feet away. They never pitch tents—they block the view of the stars above.

It's romantic, though Katsuki won’t admit that thought aloud.

After two weeks of Kirishima’s storytelling, he gets to a part he has difficulty with. Katsuki watches him struggle to tell the story the same way he did when he first started telling it. He assumes Kirishima is likely running out of ideas for it, until he finally speaks.

“One night, the barbarian prince and the dragon got separated. They agreed to meet up later in the evening after completing a lengthy list of errands they needed to run. While they were a part, an evil warlock that specialized in torture and death magic captured the prince. He had apparently been watching them for some time. The dragon was devastated when he found out. If he hadn’t left the prince’s side, then maybe he never would have been captured.”

“There’s no way to know that for sure,” says Katsuki.

Kirishima gives him a sad smile. His lips are turned up, but his forehead is scrunched, and he shakes his head. “He should have been there. The dragon will never forgive himself for not being there.”

“It’s just a story,” says Katsuki, studying Kirishima carefully.

“Yeah,” says Kirishima. He sighs. “The dragon sent an urgent message to some of the people they met while traveling. They were able to help him find the warlock’s location and cause a distraction for him. When the warlock and his allies were distracted, the dragon swooped in from above and called out to the prince. He used his fire magic to launch himself into the air and land right on the dragon’s back. The rest of their friends withdrew, and the dragon scooped them up as well. They made a hasty retreat. When they were far enough from the warlock, the dragon set their friends on the ground, thanked them, and flew off into the night with the prince.

“They found an inn to stay at. The dragon didn’t want to risk being out in the forest, so they paid for a single room. It took a lot of reassuring from the prince that he was okay for the dragon to calm down. He kept getting worked up and starting to transform and the prince had to remind him that the fees would come out of his horde if they destroyed the inn because he went ‘full dragon’ while they were inside. The dragon didn’t sleep that night. He laid awake until the sun came up, watching the prince as he slept. Whenever his eyes shut for even a few seconds, he would fear the prince was gone again or that he failed to rescue him in the first place.”

Katsuki’s chest ached and not because of the open-heart surgery. Kirishima wipes away a few stray tears with the back of his hand and turns to look out the window, trying to hide his breakdown. Katsuki knows he can be dense at times but he’s not clueless. He sees the lines in the sand for what they are. He wishes he could reach out and properly comfort Kirishima, but Katsuki is limited to the small range of motion he has on his shitty hospital bed. So, he quietly waits for Kirishima to compose himself and carry on with the story.

***

Kirishima keeps telling tales of the prince and dragon each day he comes to the hospital. Katsuki doesn’t have any more bad days. There were tough days, but no longer did he wish he were dead. Instead, he stares at the clock, waiting impatiently for the redhead to arrive. His stomach flutters every time Kirishima walks through the door. It’s annoying as fuck because Katsuki still doesn’t have a deadline on when he can leave the fucking hospital. And it’s getting harder to stay quiet about it. He knows the implications buried in the stories Kirishima tells. The dragon and the prince are more than friends, even if Kirishima doesn’t outright say it. It’s also blatantly obvious that they’re a metaphor but he’ll play along for now. It’s all he really can do.

“They helped a pair of knights from the neighboring kingdom search for the lost prince of that kingdom. While they searched, the prince ran into someone he knew from his childhood. They hadn’t been on the best of terms growing up, but as they worked together to search for the prince who had apparently run away from home after a fight with the king, they had finally managed to work together and grow a true bond of friendship. The dragon was proud to see how much he had changed in such a brief period of time, and the barbarian prince’s friend knew all sorts of facts about dragons that even the dragon himself didn’t know. The dragon couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about that.

“They escorted the prince back to his palace. He thanked them. Even though he ran away, he was glad to be home. The neighboring prince had gotten into a lot of trouble on his own. He said people kept getting mad at him for no reason and he was covered in scratches and bruises from wandering in the forest. The barbarian prince said it was pretty obvious why people hated him. He was scolded for that, but the neighboring prince didn’t seem to get what he meant. That was probably for the best.”

Katsuki snorts. That idiot has to be Kirishima’s personification of Todoroki. It makes sense. The fucker is as dense as a board of plywood. Kirishima will never admit it, but he obviously thinks so too. Katsuki’s gonna pocket that one for later. He knows it’ll come in handy eventually.

Kirishima stays until Katsuki finishes his dinner, then he leaves so that the nurses don’t yell at him. They like to hover outside the door, lacking confidence in a teenage boy doing anything on time. They’re not wrong. Given the chance, Katsuki is certain Kirishima would stay long after visiting hours end. He’d spend the night if he could. Katsuki sort of wishes he could. His days might be better, but his nights are still rough. He could use a familiar face at his bedside as he tries to sleep. He lacks the comfort of friends and family at night. He’ll take that admission to the grave. They’ll all get too full of themselves if he ever says it aloud.

The better days bleed into better nights. He wakes up with less panic attacks, which means the nurses sedate him less often. That leads to mornings that are less groggy and quicker to start. The doctors say the ophthalmologist will be able to visit him soon and get him fitted for a pair of glasses. Katsuki is thankful. The blurry vision makes him dizzy and gives him headaches which require more medication. The ouroboros that is his life. He briefly wonders how stupid he’ll look in glasses and then remembers he looks good in everything he wears.

***

One afternoon, Kirishima comes in with a story of even greater magnitude than the rescue mission the dragon had gone on to save the prince. He talks about how the evil sorcerer has mounted a retaliation, pissed off with the way things went previously. The sorcerer knows who the prince is, and he declares war on the kingdom. The prince and the dragon have to call on all their allies to help them fight the sorcerer. The prince reaches out to the king and queen who mount their army and request aid from the neighboring kingdoms.

Katsuki sits up in his bed on his own. He’s finally able to do so without it hurting. He’s got a wicked grin on his face as he smiles at Kirishima. He lifts his mask and says, “I bet the prince kicked his ass good.”

Kirishima laughs solemnly and nods his head. “Yeah. Yeah, he did, but it takes everyone to defeat the sorcerer and not without casualty. They lose important allies. They mourn the loss of their friends and comrades, and the prince… The prince is severely injured. He’s on bedrest in the palace. Servants come and go tending to his wounds and bringing him meals. They wash him and bathe him because he’s too weak to get out of bed. The prince is alive, but at a great cost. All the while he’s in his bed, the dragon is at his side. He’s there from sunup to sundown, only leaving to stretch his wings in the sky and bathe. Then he returns to the prince’s side once more.

“The barbarian prince heals quickly. The royal healers use strong magic on him, and in no time, he’s back on his feet. He’s offered the crown, but he turns it down. He says he’s not ready to take over yet. He wants to keep on adventuring. So, he does, and his dragon is right by his side. The dragon is in awe of him. He doesn’t feel admiration for the prince anymore. It’s grown into something more, something deeper. The dragon likes the prince more than any treasure in his horde. It’s been that way since before the battle with the sorcerer, but he’s been too afraid to say anything.”

“Why?” asks Katsuki. His words are muffled behind the mask.

Kirishima stops talking and looks at him confused. He quirks a brow as he says, “Huh?”

Katsuki clears his throat. “What was the dragon so fucking afraid of?” he asks, callus as ever. “Did he think the barbarian wouldn’t want him? After everything we—they’ve been through?”

Kirishima splutters. “Well, maybe the dragon was afraid they wouldn’t last. Maybe he was afraid that once their time adventuring ended, that would be it. Maybe the barbarian would realize just how strong he is and that he doesn’t need the dragon’s help anymore. Maybe he’d decided to finally move on and find a stronger partner once he realized just how weak the dragon really was. They made a lot of friends on their journeys and the prince even reconciled with an old friend from his childhood. He might think one of them was a better option. Anyone was better than the dragon.”

Katsuki wrenches the mask from his face and tosses the stupid thing down on the bed so that it’s not in his way. He can breathe fine on his own now, but the doctors insist he keep using the mask for a while longer.

Kirishima lunges forward to reach for the mask. “Bakugou wh—”

“That’s fucking dumb,” snaps Katsuki. “If I had a kickass dragon as a partner, I think I’d wanna adventure with him forever.” Kirishima puts the mask back on his face and Katsuki huffs. He folds his arm across his chest and glowers at Kirishima. Kirishima’s cheeks flame red and Katsuki breaks eye contact, directing his focus on the wall across the room. His face is warm but he’s not fucking blushing because Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t blush like a bashful little girl. If his face is pink, it’s because the hospital room is unusually warm.

Kirishima smiles beside him and continues the story. “Well, maybe the dragon finally gets enough courage to confess once the barbarian prince is healed after the big battle. They set off on their adventure together again and the dragon searches for the perfect spot to tell the prince how he feels. There’s a clearing near where they first did battle. It seems like as good a spot as any. It’s the place they first met and where they first fought. It’s important to them, so he takes the prince there, and he finally tells him how he feels. It’s terrifying.”

Katsuki lifts the mask again, determined to speak without it hindering his voice. “The dragon better be ready for the barbarian to one-up him before that. He’s not clueless. He would take them somewhere they would both enjoy, maybe with some nice dumbass sunset or some shit. The prince already made the dragon his once. He’s gotta do it again, but official.”

Kirishima tears up. Fat, wet tears track down his face as he smiles. He chokes back a sob and nods his head. “I think the dragon would like that a whole lot.”

Good, Katsuki thinks. Now, he just needs to get out of this damn hospital bed so he can prove to the ‘dragon’ just how much the ‘barbarian prince’ cares about him.

Link to fic on AO3

[vulnerasti-cor-meum]

longgggg vent post. I'm sorry. Im just feeling maddened lately. at best I probably sound like a petulant teenager.

my mom's making a huge fuss abt my bday weekend. she was proposing we go out to eat for next few days. That's absurd. it's absurd and unthinkable bc I have actively been skipping sit-down dinners with her, because I am on a self-campaign to minimize time with her. I hate dinner. I have nothing to say. she stares at me when we're eating.I am hungry every evening. And I have no appetite in the morning. and I have nightmares about her. about screaming at her and about her being my enemy. and my poor progenitress is at home all the live-long day (listening to YT preachers all day) because Im the one using the car for work, so who knows what that does to her. she hardly eats, herself, and even less now that there's no excuse for dining with me. I said that we can eat out ONCE, at texas roadhouse, which In my brain I consider to be too tacky because Im trying to develop good taste, but in my heart, who tf am I kidding. last therapist told me that if I want my mom to respect me as a man and not a child, I need to show her Im a man and not a child, but my resentment is such that I dont want to show her any part of myself at all, All Ive ever felt is rejection from her. on every axis and dimension. and now she's divorced and jobless and isolated from broader culture and Im her early retirement fund until some day in the long and unhappy future.

and now I have a lover whom Ive been seeing for seven months, we've been intimate, we go on dates, he buys me tix to the cinema and we hold hands for two hours and he's told me he adores me and is crazy about me, and I dont think I believed him even though I think he may have been wooing me (how seriously though?). Even though I said IDK if I could see us being anything more than occasional lovers, he still continued to see me afterward. And now I'm crazed for him my body ails for him my stomach is in knots and my brain is abuzz. I canceled a date two weeks ago with him because I was sick. He said he'd wait for me. When I texted him five days later that I was better (four days of silence), turns out he had left on a postponed roadtrip. (he didnt tell me. was he still waiting for me? why didnt he tell me? was I entitled to know? Of course not.) He leaves back for town today: He said he'd keep me posted (more specifically on some property he was contemplating buying at the trip-destination). I told him Id like to see him again soon. he heart-reacted. There's no reason to expect I wont see him again unless it's due to the inherent unstable bond between uncommitted chemical bodies. I dont know how long to wait till I ask him to see me again. I dont want to be a creep. I dont want to seem creepily desperate but I need him to know I want him so badly (or even at all! even if just for an evening!) and that yes I do want to work out something even one degree of magnitude "more" than what we are.I want to give of myself more generously. I want to be his possession.He doesnt reject me in that he's told me Im perfect even if my rship with my mom keeps me from giving myself more to him. I dont know if his kissyface emotes mean anything. I keep analyzing seven months' of texts like a statistician or a conspiracy theorist.

I want a new job but Ive only been here a year and can barely handle the work for which Ive been employed and which even is the only kind of work that accords with my resume. Clients depress me and get me down (senior citizens; fixed incomes; living in slums. I always fear that Im looking into a mirror of my own future). my colleagues are the sweetest persons in the world and my hours are so forgiving, so I know I should be grateful, but it's so hard so so hard.

I've been telling myself lately that God has meted out a long and unhappy life for me and that I know this in my heart, but who knows how much this is truth and how much this is slanderous against God

[molanobessivenerd]

my gender

This is gonna be a long rant abt my gender so you do have to read it. I just need to say it.

Ok so ive been question my gender/sexuality for like 3-4 years now and i this was kinda it

Oh i'm a bi girl -> im pan girl -> lesbian -> pan she/they still a girl but queerer

Then like i was more worried about trying to figure out my sexuality right cause like i wanted to be kissed before my 16th (that didn't happen) 

Then like maybe mid 2022 i started thinking about gender and i knew 2 trans people but i was kinda like no that can't be me flashforward to march 2023 i got in to will wood and i was like ‘no way i'm in anyway trans but if i could be him i would’ and i like said to myself that i just thought he was attractive?? Then the same thing happened with the character jesse st james from glee which was even weird because there was no way i would want to date him, so thats when she/they pronouns came in i put it in my bio. Then kids from my class found out and made fun of it so i changed em back to she/her. 

Then since like september last year it feels like minimum weekly i’d either not be able to stop thinking abt gender or take way too many ‘what's my gender quizzes’ 

And like i feel its alway been in the day of my head, but its becoming more prevalent since then ive been like could i be non binary, genderfluid pintrest boards. At the beginning of the year i cut my hair again, which felt so good,.

So now somedays im having thoughts like ‘oh my fucking god why cant i drink something and be a guy’ ‘please for fucks sake’ though im nor sure id like to be a man im not 100% sure im a girl (im moving further from that). But like if there was like a magical thing i could drink do idk that would turn every inch into like robert smith between 1983-2004 id do it so quickly omg. 

And like it kinda hurts that i'm not idk (and ive never felt this for any girl celebrities)

And i kinda think they are also there those thoughts but some days theyre less i thinks thats just cus im distracting myself though i dont know i could be fluid. 

But i dont want to be any guy like the men in my family most of them are big i cant think of a better word then buffheads more so my dad but i could just not want to be like them i dont have a good relationship 

I dont think i HATE being a girl- i don't love it i like some parts but i dont think its things exclusive to girls say cause gender norms n stuff. 

I dont know if i have dysphoria because that fluctuates but im vision impaired so if i dont try and look at my body i forget some of it exists i really dont like my boobs or how clothes sit on my body think i like okay with having a cups (that i could easly hide if i wanted to  i dont but that cause also be cause by the pain they cause me.

My waist i like but only because that's the part of my body thats skinnest like my body was less shapely but that skinny id be elated.

But especially o the days i think abt it more but also all the time i do wish for more masc features eg adams apple more angular face bigger hands etc etc.Voices of weird one because my voice is in mezzo soprano range my speaking voice however in chest voice is kinda low  but I was self-conscious about it growing up because it made me stand out in different even though really it wasn't I think I just thought people were staring at me for no reason.  I think I only like my voice when I'm singing when I'm acting because I can imagine myself playing characters who aren't me but idk but if it was lower like high baritone or tenor id be like so fucking happy.

And like i Kind of want to try dressing differently but I can't because a I don't want my family to know certain pieces of clothing would be mens Not that they have a problem with it I'm assuming they could though but they probably just want to talk about it and I would not but also like  I remember one time I was at the shop called Factorie  and I wanted to get the Black Parade t-shirt but it was a mens shirt  and my god the amount of anxiety I had and the amount of people that I felt were staring at me I almost had a panic attack. 

And like I feel like if I ever did do anything about gender irl  I'd run away from everyone I know and cut of connections again not because I feel like they'd be bad about it but just I've built this thing around myself so long and I don't think I could even my queer friends like i dont know  my parents I'd feel like I'd be letting them down, and like 

But also so much for my childhood makes sense

Like when I was about 8 I got eczema for the first time and my first thought was ‘oh im turning into a boy… shit what am I gonna tell my parents’  which I don't even know why my brain made that jump but i hated my boobs sometimes more then others Once they got past a certain size,  when I had a pixie cut and a couple people in the street would mistake me for a boy felt exposed ‘like shh don't tell’ 

But I was also such a girly todder/ child  from like ages four Tube8 I would pride myself on being the girlest girl never wearing pants  because I kind of think it was trying to win that competition but I don't know         

I don't think anybody read this whole thing but if you did help me out or don't I don't care but I just needed to vent this 

m

[famouslastwrdz]

i wake, as i do, in agony. 

i turn over for my painkillers and take three too many. tim pretends not to notice. 

it came out of almost nowhere, that month. ive always had trouble with my knees but i couldnt walk. and then i couldnt extend my arms properly, and couldnt grip anything right. and i thought i was faking it, and then i was seizing on the floor of the hallway whilst my brother kept my head elevated and tried to reach his phone whilst still keeping me comforted. 

and then i was losing my balance on flat concrete whilst walking with friends.

and then i was dropping what i was holding.

and then i was vomiting pure alcohol because no otc painkillers worked for the fire behind my kneecaps and in my thighs. 

and then i was still convinced i was faking it. felt like the kid from the old groupchat. convinced i was just a fraud who wanted to be special.

and then i had a stroke.

i cant think about it too long, cant joke too much about it, cant sit with it. i can joke about anything else but the jokes i make about that are hollow and send me silent in the backs of cars and in my head. i have never felt mortal before then. i slash my wrists and swallow bottles of pills and drink mugfuls of vodka and never once thought i could die in any meaningful way, but for that hour i felt like death was a tangible thing with touchable grace. 

im writing this as a soul above the bed watching my body type and my body is sobbing. wasting away from the inside with gerd and the remnants of a regurgitated mcdonalds and unprescribed medication. 

i think my demeanor makes it easy to assume i abuse substances for the hell of it, just for fun and to have a giggle. lifts my mood for sure, but it frees me. 

i am in constant pain. i dont say that lightly because part of me still screams fraud for every pill i take. but i am in pain all the time and it makes me angry and bitter and isolated. it makes me deny friends, lash out at strangers, ignore family. it makes me beg for just one day a month to stop hurting. 

im sat here now waiting for medication to start working so i can go back to sleep and im staring at blue's "hidden" bottle. 

i cant pray anymore, not the way i need to. it hurts to hold my rosary for that long, fingers locking up on the beads, and i hate it. i hate everythjng. i hate this cage of a body and this poor excuse of a life and my friends who love and care too much to let me die quietly. i am full of hatred and i hate that in itself. i sit in an empty call and hate myself and the world around me. 

they made me a cane and i had to go home and sob. its bright orange, handmade, incredible. an incredible gift. there is so much love in it. i keep crying periodically at it because god, to be loved so much someone makes you an aid, to be given something like that. 

i am surrounded by love and yet i leech hatred into the air the three of us breathe. i turn it bitter and resentful without ever meaning to. i am terrible to hang out with and worse to talk to and i despise that the only thing that made me this way is some unknown parasitical fucking pain, its embarrassing. and it hurts. i would give anything for my forgiveness back, for my unfailing empathy back, my understanding, my kindness. 

i have nothing more to say.

[kquil]

Hi, congratulations for 1k! Can I please ask for a cupcake?:)🧁 I just discovered you and I adore your writing style!

I'm a girl, I'm 5'8, and I have blue eyes and blonde hair. I've always been the shy one around new people, and I honestly hate big crowds and being the center of attention. However, the second I get to know you better and feel comfortable around you, I'm actually quite talkative. Even in the friend group, I usually have a "safe" person who I'm the closest with and know I can actually be myself around them, so I tend to migrate towards them in group outings. That is not to say I don't trust the others, I really enjoy their company too and have fun spending time with them, but it's just not the same level of closeness.

My biggest flaw is blurting things out in the heat of the moment without giving them much thought. I can be brutally honest, and it often looks like I'm disregarding others' feelings, which is not true, but I can see how it may look from their perspective, so I'm definitely working on avoiding this.

(My hogwarts house is Slytherin, I don't know if that helps with anything.)

Thank you so much in advance!!

you're so sweet, thank you so much for the request darling and im so sorry for taking so long to deliver on it! nevertheless, i hope you enjoy my ship for you!

i ship you with Remus Lupin 

i. he was your safe person in the group. It was purely accidental the way you were adopted into the marauders. they happened to catch you blowing up at another slytherin ruthlessly as you didn’t share the same views and they were being incredibly ignorant. There was additional heat from the fact that the slytherin you were cursing at was influencing the younger slytherin years and encouraging similar discriminatory behaviour amongst them. Because of you a divide between the Slytherins who took to the dark arts and blood supremacy better than those who couldn’t give a fuck was distinguished — you were the automatic leader of the latter half. 

ii. you try your best to be a little more careful around him with your brutal honesty especially when on the topic of his lycanthropy but he appreciates it more than you think. you’re able to make him face the music, it hurt at first but he knows you love him. Sometimes it does get hard though and you seeing the hurt on his face makes your heart ache for him so, despite your honesty with him being a trait he appreciated, you’ve learned to tone it down with him 

iii. you both hate being in big crowds so you’re each other’s excuse to leave the parties that sirius drags you to. “why come if you’re just going to leave?” sirius whines every time but remus would just shrug and you would say, “because you always drag us along and we’re going now,” you and remus giggle to each other before hurrying away to his dorm where you cuddle in bed and read together. 

iv. sometimes, remus would be reading but you would be talking and no matter how much he tries, he ends up reading the same sentence over and over again. In the end, he succumbs to your ramblings with a smile and puts his book away after marking his page. remus loves to read but he loves listening to you more and he actively indulges you, sometimes tuning you out so he can fully appreciate your appearance until he couldn’t resist anymore and has to lean in to kiss you because my god! you were just so beautiful!

v. remus loves staring into your beautiful blue eyes and playing with your blonde hair, and you would do the same for him. you make a habit of tracing his visible scars and even though remus always stiffens up in the beginning, he always relaxes into your soft touch, so gentle and kind. He finds that because of your loving actions, the insecurity he has over his scars slowly fades away, and just when he didn’t think he could love you more! 

1K MILESTONE EVENT : CLOSED | NAVI.

[unofficialadamtaurus]

First of all CONGRATS for finishing! It could not have been easy (I say as I remember all the times you were sore, bruised, and/or sick while trying to write a chapter LIKE BRUH), especially when each and every chapter is god tier. Seriously homie, you’re amazing!!

But FOR REAL WTF?? these dudes keep working after having infiltrated a massive fucking whale, stopped a Grimm invasion, got exploded to bits, and fought an immortal milf? Babes pls get some. Idk. SLEEP.

Naw but i really do love to see it. Also especially love to see how much they support each other through it 🥹 honestly the highlight of the chapter for me.

GOD like this moment when all of RWBY hug is HNNNNGSOZHBEHAOXH

Blake and Weiss joined the hug by some unspoken signal. Ruby melted into their embrace like so many petals and Blake's heart melted with her. "I missed you guys."

THEY ARE FAMILY OKAY AND I JUST GXHWIYZBXOYWNJ

Ruby is being particularly adorable too (the carrots line killed me 💀) but also like GURL YOU ARE LITERALLY BLIND RN STAY IN BED??

Yang nodded. "We'll get through it. Speaking of getting through things…can we talk?"

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yang shuddered at her touch. Their lips brushed when Blake continued: "Let's skip that part this time."

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

THOSE TWO ARE SO *frantic arm gestures* YKNOW??? Im happy they got a happy ending because yeah I doubted it for sec okay 😩

LMAO at the reoccurring Oscar interruption but wait FUCK THE KID IS FUCKING DYING?? UGH god I didn’t expect the Oscar and Ozpin thing to hurt as much as it did. Ozpin deserves good things too dammit whyyy 😭😭

GODDAMN Adam and Blake conversations are always so top tier is2g. There’s something I love so much about this conversation brooo. Blake’s resolve and care towards him just 🥹 UGH. her unwavering stares? Easily expressed gratitude? Instant forgiveness (nothing to really forgive cuz like corruption feels like shit and pretty violating and traumatizing tbh fr but she does it anyway to help him feel better ANDANDAND—)? THE LETTER???

OWHXISOWHXNIWOEUDNCKEIHWKFIW I JUST LOVE IT WHEN SOMEONE CARES ABOUT HIM AND HE FEELS IT OKAY

And FUCK I love this part

He swallowed and looked away, unsure how to respond to that. He didn't want to say "You're welcome," because they weren't, and this was never going to happen again. Even if, in some small corner of his heart, the knowledge that he'd helped to save the world like some kind of fantasy hero radiated a gentle heat that would warm him for a long time to come.

YOU DIDNT HAVE TO GO THAT HARD HOMIE IM ALREADY CRYIN 😭

Also LIVING for Neo and Adam team up. Neo’s expressive mannerisms are genuinely so fun to read UGH it’s PERFECT. And the “Don’t stay too long” for Qrow OAISBXOIENWOWIDN

He clipped Blush to his belt and let the spark flare unhindered.

Homie when I tell that IM FUCKING LIVING FOR THISS

"'Part of starting over is saying goodbye. You were first; now it's my turn. If you want to, you'll see me again.

"'Goodbye, Blake.'"

OWJDNEOWHNDDIJENEIDNXIEUWNDIFUENEIDIXJNWO IM EMOTIONAL

wait omfg I think I forgot to mention to Jaune 💀 I don’t hate him I swear The way his semblance and aura are practically working against each other is a REALLY interesting and nice touch, and i don’t think ive ever seen it applied like this. And I love his “i went from nothing to nothing line” and how he’s just so glad he was able to save somebody. 🥹 it captured that part of his character so well and tbh the same goes for all the others (me @ ruby rn is going “bitch is you BLIND”). It’s a really neat touch to the chapter!!

I can't tell if you've read the epilogue yet, but either way I am injecting every keysmash in this message directly into my veins. Your reviews were one of the things I most looked forward to when writing a new chapter - I was excited to see which lines you'd specifically comment on. You're probably at least 20% of the reason this story got finished at all lol.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for never failing to bring a smile to my face when commenting 😊

[liauditore]

Hi I’m love anon revenge to the fact that Tubby got a hate anon (they will learn their hate only makes me more powerful)

God your art is stunning, I’ve been wanting to say this for a bit because oh my god it is beautiful. I can’t quite explain what it is about but it’s one of my favourite art styles I’ve ever seen. My favourite price of yours is probably the one of Scott’s hand holding Jimmy’s head while his nose is bleeding (hopefully that description makes sense). I don’t know how you did it but I feel genuine fear just looking at that piece the emotion is so well done. Also I love the general shininess of your art I’m not sure what exactly that means but it is so captivating I love it.

Also the piece with Pearl and Jimmy is so cool the way you use artsyles to communicate ideas is so creative and it works so well

Also you reblog so much cool stuff that I love seeing and I think it’s so cool that you show love not only to the source material you love but also to other fans and artists. I love seeing people support other creators and create friendships and bonds with people who love the same things as them. It’s beautiful and so human

HI ANON???? sorry for taking so long to respond I had this open for hours just kinda staring at it and melting into a puddle i hkhkfdhklhfdhhhhhlljf. me pictured below staring at my inbox for 6 hours straight

i love the implication that you are a balancing force of nature anon.... (alas i have actually never received hate anons so i suppose i need the evil version of u to show up sometime later to bring true balance.)

I know the exact pieces you mean!! I can't express how happy it made me reading that you had like. a favourite piece of mine i just hkhdlkflhkshlfhh a lot of the times posting art online feels kinda like chucking things into the void and sometimes the void says smth back but this is more like oh shit there's been people there the whole time. there is no void there's just a bunch of guys underneath a big blanket and some of those guys are really awesome!! and some of those guys are really awesome and they like my drawings waughh

I love the life series so much I can't get over how it's been.. more than a year now that ive been obsessing over it but the fandom is so wonderful too. Even the discourse brings me joy in a weird kinda sociopathic way (idk man I just find it kind of funny/entertaining watching people argue about cubes kissing). I used to not reblog stuff on this blog at all (i kinda just assumed that's how tumblr worked) but over time my art blog got more popular and I was like.... man there's all these other cool artists that I want people to see.

I love this fandom and I love my mutuals and I love artists I follow and I love talking everyday to my friends about block people it's so awesome and cool I want to do it forever. and I love this message anon I love you!!!!! Idk what else to put here uhhhh scott smajor attack

[dwarfsized]

tagged by the beautiful and amazing @aevallare thank you!!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

9!

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

63,696

3) What fandoms do you write for?

it's all bg3 right now, but I've also written for critical role and the arcana (visual novel)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1 - that's the kind of love ive been dreaming of (bg3, astarion/f!tav)

2- ain't it warming you (the world goin' up in flames) (critical role, jester/caleb)

3- Liebe ist Fürsorge (critical role, jester/caleb)

4- Fighting the Hurricane (critical role, jester/caleb)

5 - true colors shine in darkness and in secrecy (bg3, astarion/f!tav)

5) Do you respond to comments?

yes! i try to do the "comment when you upload the next chapter" thing but sometimes its been a while since the last chapter and i get embarrassed and just respond to everything in one big rush

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

where i left Fighting the Hurricane probably combined with the (checks notes) 1+ year long update hiatus, i am coming back for you baby i promise. i have plans for it. i just. god. so much happened to me right as i was working on it.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of my fic ends happy (this will not always be the case, eventual AA!AU will be. well. i shan't say.) BUT, and this might just be because its my most recent finished work, i think new steps might end off on the most hopeful note.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

this has never happened to me and id love to keep it that way lmao

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes :) the only real posted smut ive got rn is that's the kind of love ive been dreaming of, but i have other smut in the works

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Fighting the Hurricane doesn't count, really, but that's the closest we've got: its a Critical Role/Pacific Rim fusion.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have nooooot, but i am not sure that the way that i write (terrible first draft and then editing for 1000 years) is very friendly to co-writing. I'm not against the idea at all though, its just. you know. i wouldn't want to torture a friend with the everything about me. maybe someday though!!

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

in this house we multiship, peace and love. :) though honestly i made a joke once about retiring kira as an oc after bg3 bc of everything im putting her through after becoming so enamored with kirastarion so maybe that? sorry blorbo from my brain, enjoy the conciliation prize of elf dick.

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

stares guiltily at Fighting the Hurricane ch 2, languishing on my wip pile. listen, i still fully intend to finish that story. i was doing cool stuff in there. the only problem is that my brain exploded while i was writing ch 1, and this wasnt supposed to be more than 2k words but i am myself, and i didnt use outlines then, so my notes are a mess.

also i cannot possibly underline enough the bit where my brain exploded. this is an exaggeration only in that none of it came out of my head, but i was Not Myself for a Long Time.

16) What are your writing strengths?

i think my internal monologue bangs. this is because i agonize over it.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

moving characters around in the space is like pulling teeth and i feel like a solid 30% of my editing is focused on that. getting someone from point a to point b elegantly and without it feeling like "astarion got up. he moved his feet. he sat down. he looked out the window" makes me feel like walking into the sea

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like it when it makes sense! Why does this character use another language? Does the reader need to know what they're saying? Is the POV character unfamiliar with the language? Does the reader learn anything from this? If you don't have good answers, why do it?

I find tieflings really neat, and bg3 does the typical dnd thing of "tieflings are looked down on," without, like, doing much with tiefling culture. So Ive had Kira use Infernal as a shortcut to create familiarity with other tieflings, and use it to have private conversations bc why would anyone but tieflings and people living in The Hells know that language--this solves some problems for her! And it creates others.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Naruto...... once upon a time i wrote shikamaru/sakura fic. i was going to make a joke about that being my actual first longfic but i just checked and it literally isnt, i worked on it for a year and if you dont count the in-text authors notes (it was a different time) the whole thing is shorter than true colors chapter 4.

can you imagine me, now, updating something for a year and it being less than 11k. lol. lmao, even.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written?

eldath's mercy is my darling right now who also scares me to death. update coming soon (this week? i hope?)

i will tag @simon-says-nothing and @raccooncrimes and @septemberskye and YOUUUU reading this if you want to do it, tag me if you do!!

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

I know you already talked about but this I think the fandom has changed a lot. I am a shy reader so I stay on anon and I don't reblog much because my Tumblr is small. But I have been around for a few years and its not the same.

There was a lot more playfulness and silly posts. People reblogged other people's writing a lot more. I also had fun following how people talked to each other.

The kind of writing people wanted was different. You didn't have such a focus on how "good" the writing was or how much imagery a writer used. It was about the stories being told and it feels like that has changed. The fandom seems to only want that flowery writing, those blogs that write at a "elevated" level. I was just fine without it, to be honest.

I am sad that people are not liking things and that Prince is taking over more and more. There is no love anymore for Vamp or Sen or Rev (my beloved Rev 😭)

I don't know why I am reaching out to you except you have been here a long time, one of the best blogs in this fandom. And part of me is just sad that it feels like the fandom is dying.

Oh my god anon..... when i saw your ask last night i got overwhelmed with emotion and with all the things that popped up in my head that i wanted to say to you, but today real life gave me another portion of problems and I'm sitting here giving my screen a blank stare. i hate this, i really want to give you a better answer, but let me try. and thank you for sending it in this blog, i feel even more comfortable talking on here!

The thing you pointed out about the quality of writing and people's demands.... it's actually something i wrote in my last reply to you. and then deleted it. because i thought, "haha no it must be just me", but now that you say it, im prone to agree - your angle of things is actually very trustworthy in my opinion, being someone who's been here for so long and observed from afar. for me it's easier to forget how it was in the beginning, but now that you say it, you're absolutely right... the blogs i looked up to, the writers i admired, weren't put on a pedestal for their skills, it was purely in my head how great they were - to a point where it makes me sad that it feels like ive received more praise now than they did back then. some of them don't write as often anymore, if at all... it's not right. i wonder why did that happen and when, and if it's actually harmful for us writers or im being too cautious. i want to be just like you sometimes, to enjoy the fruits of this fandom from the comfort of being a small blog seldom interacting with posts but still appreciating them from afar - i've been that person in other fandoms, and it has its perks definitely. it's just some strange miracle that i became what i am right now and broke through the shell of being a shy reader! seriously! i appreciate you and people like you, because im glad that i can make more of those fruits for you to enjoy. it's an unpopular opinion but ive never been mad at lurkers all that much. everyone has their reasons to feel uncomfortable interacting, and other than that, i personally want to have a blog where people escape from the hustle of being seen and present. again, that's just me, and i'll encourage commenting and sharing work when it comes to my peers... we're getting off topic, haha. and i should make a paragraph break already

i want to comfort you somehow but without lying to you that "nooo it's alright we're still having fun around here and the fandom is totally not dying" and we could make what the musicians on titanic did, but hey, we're not in the middle of the ocean and i seriously cant be a pessimist 😭 i don't think that it's that bad - i did say that some writers are put on pedestal, but are they really? i doubt anyone is seeing those things so dramatically, well maybe that one anon. but that's just one case, and unfortunately it affects how we see things A LOT , because noone else allows themselves to point out things in such dramatic light, no matter if they're right or not. we're paying the anon a lot of attention, so this fucks with our heads to a certain degree. i think that you should rest assured that this mood around the fandom is temporary, same with the more fun postings that you mentioned - i have a theory for that too, and it's because ikepri is simply not allowing for as much goofing around as its predecessors. you still see your doze of cursed jokes but they're not realistic in the nature of the game's world like they would in ikerev for instance, or even ikevamp . but that's fine because, and this is something i actually thought about the other day, they can't keep making more and more dramatic dark and twisted all overly serious games (right? right?) , somewhere along the way a game with the carefree atmosphere of ikerev will come to existence again, and we'll heal again. and the hateful anons who dont see that we're just a bunch of people having fun without that made-up hierarchy , will get bored and go away eventually. i believe in that, and i really want to make you believe too

i enjoyed talking with you about this, and i hope i didn't gave any unnecessary seriousness to our talk because im trying very hard to stick to the belief that our time here should be purely just positive and fun... and hey, we might have not interacted much, but knowing that you've been here for awhile already makes me feel you close somehow hkhkhkhk is that weird??

now, let me give you this ticket: 🎫 that equals one xxsycamore request (from the valentines/1000 followers one) and i want you to think of the most self-indulgent prompt you can come up with and send it. you said ikerev my beloved so if you end up choosing that (seeing that there is a serious lack of those requested 😭😭) id be even happier to write it for you. dont worry to refuse ofc <33

im sorry that this was all over the place and thank you for coming here anon. have a great day ❤