#i genuinely cannot handle him i feel like i have to scream every time he smiles

[sollucets]

ok i lied i DID watch myride 5 but i dont have time to make anything about it right now

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[rosypenguins]

Day Five of Freakblr Month! Something I like/dislike about Jake!

To start off, something I like: I absolutely adore his struggle between choosing the Music Club, and the Dromies.

Now, I’m gonna start this off saying that I’ve BEEN in Jake’s exact situation of having to choose between friend groups multiple times in my life. (People-pleasing tendencies be damned.) And honestly, this is genuinely, unironically one of the best portrayals of that I’ve found in media. (And it’s a Gacha of all things.)

But seriously, I adore the way his character arc was written, and how he struggles to keep both sides happy. The lying, and the struggle to remain loyal to both sides (which only in turn makes him loyal to no-one) hits so hard as someone who’s been through this.

He constantly shoves his own thoughts and problems to the side. He ignores his own desires in favor of pleasing those around him. And the line where he expresses how he wishes he was someone else, is honestly so real and genuinely hurts to hear.

Like, the scene in episode 7 puts it so damn well. I cannot express it enough. How he feels he almost owes it to Drew and the Dromies to stay by their side, and how he still cares about them despite how much their words and actions hurt those he cares for, and him.

He’s never shown to care about his own feelings, he only cares about making everyone else happy, which is why it feels to rewarding to see him finally figure out and fight for what he wants. And to see him finally reveal the truth, despite knowing how much it’ll hurt his old friends. He no longer lies to please others. He finally learns to tell the truth. The painful, ugly truth, that finally sets him free.

He’s a flawed protagonists, but he’s trying. And seeing him grow throughout the show is genuinely so rewarding, and watching him find a group that finally accepts him for who he is just…

This image is how I feel. Unironically. I love Jake so much.

*+*+*

Now, for something I dislike: I hate; with a burning passion; how Jake handled the fact Zoey was cheating on Drew.

Now before I get into this, I’m just gonna say that I don’t think this is a flaw of Jake’s character. I think this is more a writing flaw, considering Jake is shown to care about Drew in every other instance, except for this one. To recap the situation: Jake found out Zoey was cheating on Drew, and instead of telling Drew, his literal best friend about this, he chooses to keep it secret, using it as blackmail to protect a girl he’d known for two days.

I’m sorry… WHAT?! EXCUSE ME?!?! You’re BEST FRIEND IS BEING CHEATED ON AND ALL YOUR ASS IS CONCERNED WITH IS THIS GIRL WHO YOU MET A DAY AGO??? Like I understand Jake’s a people pleaser, but JAKE THAT’S YOUR BEST FRIEND??? YOUR BEST FRIEND WHO TOOK YOU IN AS A FRESHMAN AND GAVE YOU A PLACE TO BELONG?!?! YOUR BEST FRIEND WHO GENUINELY CARES ABOUT YOU AND WANTS TO PROTECT YOU?!?!!

It genuinely makes no sense, especially considering it IS IMPLIED Jake cares about Drew, yet his actions here scream otherwise.

And I know that Jake’s not the only one in Jake’s friend group who lied. Everyone did. (RIP Drew.) But I feel like their reasons for lying were a little more understandable.

Like, Henry and Liam were clearly being threatened into keeping their mouths shut, and Lia’s Zoey’s best friend. Lia had to keep quiet or risks losing her popularity and reputation, which she got because of Zoey. But Jake isn’t being threatened at all. He’s the one threatening Zoey.

Not only that, but when Jake DOES finally tell Drew, he weaponizes it. He KNOWS that he’s going to hurt Drew by telling him this and THAT’S why he does it. Not because Drew deserves to know, but because he’s using the truth as a weapon. He uses it AS A WEAPON TO ATTACK DREW FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T EVEN DO?!?!

It’s genuinely so fucked up and so out of character for Jake to do. Like, I understand he’s upset but this is just downright shallow and petty. And not at all fair to Drew, who has only been trying to help Jake in his own twisted possessive way.

And does he go back and apologize once he finds out Lia’s the one who leaked the recording? NO! Does he express any sort of guilt or remorse? NO!! IT’S SO FUCKING SHITTY!! And also completely illogical, which is why I think this was more of a writing flaw than anything. It was something to give the climax more drama I guess, but there are other ways to do that without taking Jake out of character.

TLDR: I like Jake’s character development. I hate how he covers up Zoey’s cheating only to weaponize it just to hurt Drew.

@31days-of-freakblr

[restinslices]

your hc about the linkuei brothers watching movies are very funny. What would it be like watching horror movies? Or movies about martial arts? I feel that bi-han would criticize absolutely every detail of every blow or movement. You can choose only one type of movie if you want, I understand that sometimes it is difficult to have inspiration to write them. You can ignore this too! Thank you 🫡

I’ve never really been into martial arts movies so I went with horror since I had more experience with those. Hope you enjoy!

I kinda feel like Bi-Han is one of those people that can’t enjoy horror movies because he thinks logically too much 

He can’t go dumb for the movie and that ruins it for him

Take Scream for example (fuck Scream 7. Don’t watch that shit when it comes out), he cannot understand how people are actually killed by Ghostface 

The mask should mess up their vision, plus the robe, plus it’s a regular person. Typically a teenager or young adult. How are they killing that many people? Their victims are pathetic

He immediately knows who Ghostface is, or who any secret killer is. He sees the signs right away and is like “how isn’t it obvious?”

A bummer the whole time 

You gotta shut off your brain and have a good time when watching a horror movie, Especially slashers.

Don’t get him started on the Evil Dead movies 

He’s so mad they read from the book. If he saw Evil Dead Rise, he’d walk out the room

”The book opened when Danny bled on it-“

We know Bi-Han. We’re angry too

A horror movie can fr ruin this mans day

He’d probably like psychological movies or those A24 movies 

“You don’t get it because you have to think”

Yes, he’s one of those 

Shut the fuck up. You are not better than anyone 

Not as much of a bummer

Do I think he loves horror movies? Eh. Probably not

Does he hate them? No

They’re just alright 

I’m getting monster flick vibes from him for some reason

Dracula, Frankenstein, The Thing, movies like those 

My proof? I have none. I can just see it in my head

Do zombies also count as monster flicks or are they their own genre? Either way, I can see him enjoying those too. I think he’d be into the classic monster flicks. The black and white ones 

In general he’s into the older horror movies from years ago. Yeah the effects are bad and maybe the acting is too, but they’re the originals and what got the genre rolling

I don’t think horror is his favorite genre so I don’t see him putting one on out of a “man I really wanna see a horror movie” need. More so out of boredom 

Is also bothered by dumb actions, but he understands that the movie gotta keep moving somehow 

The type that can watch a horror movie then go to sleep immediately after 

Doesn’t stay up to date with new horror movies coming out. He just hears about the popular ones that blow up

Like how Hereditary was everywhere 

He enjoys them. It’s just not his favorite and he doesn’t think about it

His favorite subgenres would be paranormal and home invasion 

Proof? None. I’m just thinking of subgenres and assigning them-

Paranormal movies are easy to enjoy. Any movie with a supernatural element is easy to enjoy to be honest. He can put it on and just relax

Home invasion movies are for days when he really wants to feel some fear in his bones 

The Strangers (original. Not the recent remake) is a good example 

Are the main characters idiots? Yes. Them feeling sad they accidentally killed a friend and leaving the secure room was dumb

But it’s still a movie that gets your blood pumping 

Home invasion movies are scary because home is supposed to be a safe space. These movies break that idea 

Horror movies are supposed to scare you, and he likes it

Hates unnecessary jumpscares 

It’s just super cheap 

Just make the movie good and give genuine scares 

When horror movies really amp up the sex factor, that also bothers him

He can handle sex, but he didn’t choose to watch an erotic movie. Put the scary shit

I’m projecting 

Hates super gorey and/or torture porn movies 

Sorry Jigsaw

[tubbypeddle]

hii, I'd like a matchup for percy jackson and one piece please! (I'm using the previous person's request as a template sorry)

I’m a 5’9 girl, have brown skin, dark brown eyes, and curly/coily, brown hair. I have an athletic/rectangle-type body. I usually wear jorts/cargos and graphic tees when I feel masc. I love to wear crop tops and shorts when I feel more feminine.

im bisexual with a preference for men

im usually an extrovert on most days, especially with people I know, but sometimes I'm more introverted. i like to push myself to be a better version of me. i love adventuring, but I also enjoy relaxing a lot. i have a creative and active mind and I talk a lot. i love listening and debating on topics I enjoy.

i dislike people who are rude just to be rude/rude because they think its cool. people who give backhanded comments or gossip. i hate feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated, or just feeling tired in general.

irrational fear of heights lol. but really, im scared of not having a good future, and everything going wrong after college.

my hobbies are, reading, traveling, sports, writing, games, and baking

i love hugs and quality time with people I love, whether that be going out or just chilling at home.

what i prefer in a partner is someone who will be there for me when I struggle and feel overwhelmed. someone willing to be there for comfort, but also someone who isn't afraid of communicating their own feelings.

i think that's it, thank you!

okay so. ignore that this took even longer than it normally would.

because.

if you mention it, I might genuinely crash out

anyway.

(author's note: credits to gif owners, I do not own them. again, I literally cannot apologize enough, I am so sorry these are taking so long.)

It's shocking news. To hear that you're a demigod. The child, of a Greek myth.

Yeah right.

But, you suppose it would explain all the strange things that happened to you in your childhood. Apparently all of those myths that Mr. Brunner told you in school were real.

Because your best friend has goat hooves for feet???

He takes you to Camp Half-Blood, which your (apparently) satyr friend says is the only place safe for demigods like you. Almost everyone is shocked to meet you, especially because you're much older

He takes you to the Hermes cabin, where you'll stay until your Godly parent claims you.

And there, you meet

Travis Stoll

Now it may not be obvious at first, but let me explain.

He's one of the two head counselors for the cabin. Him and his brother personally get you situated into Camp life.

Connor finds you fun and polite enough, but it's Travis who has a crush on you.

It's like at first sight with you.

Connor and Travis have rather different types in women they like, which is why I personally see you with Travis more than Connor.

Connor likes girls who are softer. Maybe a little more "delicate". Girls who giggle at his every joke.

Travis likes his girls a little more athletic, of which there is no shortage of in Camp Half-Blood. He likes girls who are strong. Girl where he doesn't have to worry about them being hurt when he isn't around.

At first though, he doesn't even think his crush will go anywhere. He just likes to admire you from afar.

He's much too busy as a year-round Head counselor. Let alone, the replacement head counselor of a camper gone rogue.

The day his crush on you goes somewhere is when he finds you breaking down in a corner of the Hermes cabin. Your godly parent is just taking forever to claim you. You feel unwanted. Abandoned. Alone.

Now, this is nothing new to Travis. It's like a demigod's rite of passage into Camp Half-Blood.

Doesn't make it any easier to see someone else feeling the same way he did once upon a time.

He comforts you as best he can. He lets you scream and cry, or he lets you throw things around, if that's how you handle things.

And when you're done with your crying, he offers ways to get your mind off of it. Sparring, or drawing with you. Reading whatever textbooks the Big House has.

He even tells you about his own experiences with the gods. His own quests he's been on, big or small. He tells you about how his father claimed him. He isn't afraid of being vulnerable with you, even though all of his instincts are yelling at him to be paranoid.

From there, your friendship becomes something more. You find yourself looking for him whenever either of you have free time.

Since you enjoy active activities just as much as quieter ones, it's rather lucky Travis is the one who likes you. He's the same way.

He doesn't read as much, because even though all the books in Camp Half-Blood are written in Greek, he just doesn't like reading. But he'll listen to you read. He likes listening to you read aloud. Or even if you don't want to do that, he'll probably whittle away at a piece of wood while you draw.

His main love languages are quality time and acts of service after all. This is how he shows you he likes you.

It's very lucky that neither of you enjoy gossip. Travis hates rumors and all that what have you. It's a big reason why he doesn't get along with a lot of the Aphrodite kids.

His favorite dates with you are when you two go out and do something active. Preferably when you two can leave the camp. Not far, probably not even out of Manhattan.

He just wants to take you out to do something fun, that will leave memories that the two of you can cherish for a lifetime.

Honorable mentions!

Frank Zhang

You're actually pretty close to his canon romantic interest type. At least, what I'm imagining, based on your description. He also likes quieter activities, while still enjoying more physical things, too. You two would spend a lot of your time together since you enjoy many similar things. I just felt he'd be too obvious of a choice. (and also, he's from Heroes of Olympus, technically, and I didn't know if that's what you were also looking for.)

What a lovely dive into the world of Percy Jackson!

Now, it's time to move on from the world of gods and demigods, and into the world of pirates and giants.

You're sailing the Big Blue. Whether as a pirate or military, doesn't matter.

Either way, it's

Koby

He meets you by chance. Most likely while he's infiltrating a pirate's ship.

He finds you, probably being held hostage. And he rescues you.

He's enamored by you when you two first meet. He finds himself wanting to keep in touch with you after he's rescued you from the pirates, whether or not you are a pirate yourself.

He's proved before that he doesn't care about where you stand on that front. He just wants to hold your hand.

At first, he tries to get your attention by leaving you gifts. Anonymously, of course.

Training under Garp may have given him confidence in himself, but not confidence in his courting skills.

He leaves you little things like seashells he found along the beaches he came across that reminded him of you. Little flowers he came across while patrolling a town. Chocolates, if you're into those.

(He's getting all of his ideas from romance novels)

It takes him a long time to muster the courage to tell you who's leaving you those gifts.

Should you decide to accept him, I promise you that he's a great boyfriend.

He's attentive, and kind, and gives you everything that you want whenever he's able to. (His love languages are gift giving and quality time)

He makes time in his schedule for you. All of his vacation days are used up just for your dates.

He also enjoys just listening to you talk. He enjoys debating with you, just because he likes hearing your opinions and thoughts, even if sometimes he doesn't agree.

Also, he adores your style. Honestly, what someone wears isn't the first thing that catches his attention about people he's attracted to. It's their determination and their willpower that draws him in.

But he thinks you look cute in everything you choose to wear. Whether it be your crop tops and shorts, or your tanks and cargo jeans.

Really, he's just completely enamored by you.

Out of everyone, Koby is probably the most emotionally competent. At least, in the navy, he is. It's not often that you two have arguments. You understand that he does his best to make time for you, and he's very amenable to understanding you and how you work.

So when you two do get into arguments, Koby makes it a point to never raise his voice, no matter how frustrated he gets. He listens to what you have to say and is careful to change his behavior should he find you correct in what you're saying.

Relationships are a lot of work, but it's nothing he's not willing to do.

Honorable mentions!

Luffy

It's not that I thought he was obvious, although it was an obvious choice to me. It's that I think he might not be able to sit down for too long to have those long kinds of conversations that you seem to love. He's too hyper, he has to be doing something always. (and also he'd eat all your food)

I hope you enjoyed it 🥺

[ish4hs]

My Heart Only Aches For You. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

≡;- ꒰ °Husband x Gn!Reader ꒱

╰┈➤ ⋆.ೃ࿔* w: fluff and angst ·˚ ༘

╭──╯ . . . . .ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Baby" he called out with a hint of tiredness in his voice as he enters the house and essentially gaining no reply, bewildered by this he called out once again "Darling? I'm home" he shouts as if trying to get a response from someone in particular. It then hits him, you were nowhere to be found, just for tears to start to stream down the porcelain skin of his. As if he's put into some sort of trans, hands palming the face of his screaming in an agony.

Your partner has been busy setting up your picnic date trying his best to make everything perfect for you, him putting the gingham down the grassy field as he take the picnic basket beside the two of you "love please sit down now! I swear everything looks great" trying to get him to settle down "mhmmm i will, let me just do one more thing" he repond raising his index finger, his eyes seems to illuminate beneath the sun as he grins "And...Done!" He shriek with excitement in his face, he then hurriedly sat down beside you "sooo how's the view?" he asked "hmm..,bad" you teased "Bad? I knew it, we should have went to the beach" He stated shockingly with a hint of regret in his tone, not getting the joke "No stupid" you giggled at his gullibleness "its great to spend time with you in this beautiful scenery, thank you love" giving him a peck in his tender cheeks "I'm glad you loved it, I've been planning this out for these past few days and I'm shock you didn't noticed it" he replied proudly with a smile on his beautiful face "nuh uh, i knew you were planning something out, you were like really suspicious these past few days and beside you suck at lying and you know that" you shrugged rolling your eyes and giggling, as his expression dropped with an embarrassed look on his visage "take that back! I'm not bad at lying" he argued back "yes you are" i teased as smile creeped out at the corner of my lips "no I'm not, then how did you not know im proposing to you today" his words slipped like landslides as you stare in shock, you were too stunned to even say a single word, "I talk too much" he covered his mouth, as both of you and his; heart seems to pound really fast at the same time, it felt like you could hear each others heart by how fast it beat "you're what?" asking, hoping he was telling the truth and this was not some sort of joke by his "This might be the worst proposal ever known to mandkind, but here goes nothing. Love, whenever i talk to you, something inside of me feels wrong i do not know if its the heart of mine or my stomach building up with butterflies. I cannot comprehend how a simple "hi" from you would make me go dizzy in such good way..,You make my cheek heat up in a way i do not know why. Oh to wake up beside you every morning in my life. Cupid seem to walk pass through me anytime i talk to you, what I'm trying to say is. Will you be my forever?" He said genuinely, as he get on his knees holding a maroon engagement ring box.His hand shaking while holding the small box additionally tears starts to build up in one another's eye "yes" you replied stuttering while bawling the eyes of yours, he screamed happily essentially putting the dazzling ring on your third finger as he hurriedly ran towards you to embrace the warmth body of yours "How lucky i am to find someone like you" kissing your temple "i love you more than anything and anyone in this universe" holding the back of your head as he kiss your forehead happily.

"please stay with me.." he cried out "oh to lose you will be the death of mine" he roar in misery not letting go of your soft silk like hands "it'd be great if you stop crying my love, i can't handle to see you cry in such agony" you replied softly "but to lose you in this lunatic world is comperable as losing the sanity of mine" he dispute "but you cannot simply sit here and cry in an agony on me forever" you stated, tears flowing down "But for you are supposed to be my Eternity" he bawled out as he stammer his words "NO PLEASE" he screamed in distress as the person who they loved endlessly stopped breathing. "DOCTOR, ANYONE PLEASE HELP US" he yelp for help dashing outside the room to look for anyone who can help him save his beloved. "CLEAR" the doctor screamed as the other nurses lead him outside the room with force "LET GO OF ME IDIOTS, LET ME IN" he screech the nurse eventually need to hold him with force "No please please" as he try to get out of their graps. He watch the doctor get out of the room where his once other half stayed "I'm sorry, we did everything in our might" the doctor said with devastation. Everything seemed to go blurry for him, the time had stop in him; for where his life used to depend on is no longer with him.

He sat in the gingham where they once sat on, staring in the night sky as if he's trying to find something in the above "7 years without you is like a living nightmare, i tried to look everywhere where i could atleast find a resemblance of you just even the slightest but it looks like you are nowhere to be found." he stared blankly in the starry night presumably questioning the heavens above "Billions of star in the sky yet, you will always shine the brightest my dearest." tears flowing in his beautiful visage "We were unique because only we have ever felt this type of love. Oh how can i forget about you? Si mi corazón solo duele por ti" _________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[cosmicredcadet]

Monkie kid headcanons for fun

Red son headcanons:

Red son has bad memory and he only calls MK and Mei Noodle boy and dragon girl because he legit cannot remember their names to save his life.

Red son's glasses are shades, which aren't normal for prescription glasses which makes me think he actually uses them to control light intake due to his pupils not adjusting to light properly.

Red son has chronic pain but doesn't even realize it because He's lived with it for centuries so it's basically just the norm for him. His pain is mostly centered in his back and joints.

Red son has neurodivergent swag. Idk what kind but he sure as hell has it.

Red son doesn't like being touched. He probably has to be the one to initiate the touch to feel comfortable. (You could read this as him being touch starved but tbh i don't really read him one way or another :P)

Red son has the nonbinary swag. Source: trust me bro.

Red son can't cheat on anything. he legally is not allowed to cheat. this may or may not be related to the fact he feels the need to prove himself. Source: he tried to win the great wall race fair and square instead of just stealing the peach or cheating to win.

Red son just genuinely finds racing fun. Source: His truck literally turned into a race car before he ever had to race. he just likes going fast and building cool cars. also the fact he chose to race in the great wall race when there were other options to get the peach.

Red son has low empathy.

Red son isn't very good at comforting and instead is someone who tries to find a solution to a problem. He struggles to realize that sometimes there is no solution and some people just need comfort.

Red son is non-partnering aroace. He used to just say that romance got in the way of his work because he didn't realize that romantic interest wasn't just something you could turn on or off at will.

Red son actually doesn't have any bull-like features and he is rather self conscious about the fact he doesn't look like his father at all.

Red son is a cat person. Cats tend to flock to him due to being a living heater and he just accepts his fate and gets buried in them.

Red son doesn't know how to handle compliments or people being nice to him so he usually mistakes his confused feelings towards them with anger.

Red son is able to get "burnt out" in which he uses too much energy and his fire dies out for a while, in which he is only able to produce smoke. Usually after resting he is able to use his fire again.

His fire responds to his emotions. It can become hard to control when he is emotionally unstable.

When angry or stressed Red son turns to work. usually he will lock himself up in his room or workshop until he's calmed down or finished what he's working on.

Red son talks to himself and thinks out loud often. he finds it easier to work through his thoughts when he is able to verbalize them out loud as compared to them floating vaguely in his head.

Red Son doesn't really have a filter and will reply bluntly with his exact thoughts. he struggles to take into account how his words could upset others which has made him come off as rude.

The only time he is aware of what he is saying is when speaking to his parents. Source: Red son will seem to speak without filter until his parents show distaste in what he said in which then he will backtrack and try to change what he said to make them happy. (the "I have made it's power my pow - our power" scene in the pilot)

Red son doesn't eat beef because of his father being a bull. (more of a silly headcanon rather than serious)

Mk Headcanons:

Mk has the transmasc swag. Source: trust me bro. Also just him mentioning how he used to go by something before MK, how he wears a shirt when swimming, and how much he screams about being a monkey MAN. Very transmasc of him.

Mk has ADHD. He is SO ADHD you guys have NO IDEA. Source: IMPOSSIBLE DELIVERY THAT IS THE ADHD MOOD ALL THE TIME.

Mk cries over movies all the time. It's basically expected that every emotional scene in a film will end with him sobbing.

Mk is Gay AroAce. I imagine him being Demi or gray aro and then just plain ace!

The more power MK uses the more he shows monkey-like features.

Mk was actually decently strong even before he got monkey king's powers. basically he's got a bit of muscle on him.

Mk has a war form like Wukong, he just hasn't activated it yet :) (iirc Wukong's "war form" is really just Wukong's power to multiply his limbs so MK can do that too)

Mk will make weird noises as he does things, usually as sound effects to the task he is currently doing.

Mk can't swim. Source: He has monkey floaty :)

MK is sensitive to sound and uses his headphones to help control that. He often uses music as a stim and to help him focus. Source: he wears headphones a lot. also trust me bro. it's the adhd

MK talks to himself a lot, usually as a way to sooth his nerves to talk his way through a problem. He will also talk to plushes and other inanimate objects as a way to talk thought his thoughts as they get all jumbled in his head.

He tends to stay up incredibly late, even when he is tired. He can't ever seem to go to bed at a reasonable time.

MK is unmedicated for his ADHD. Not for lack of trying he just keeps forgetting to go get it prescribed.

MK can't drink coffee has it has the opposite effect on him in which it causes him to crash intensely. he tried to use it as a sleep aid once to go to bed earlier but instead it made him late for work as he slept way longer than expected. source: very common for ppl with ADHD to consume caffeine and become sleepy instead of energized. ofc this isn't how it is for all ppl with ADHD but it's common enough that i put it on MK ;)

MK tends to snack as a stim. He often will find himself missing full meals because of hyperfocus and his snacking stim making him forget he's hungry.

Mei Headcanons:

Mei also has the ADHD swag sorry I don't make the rules.

Mei is Lesbian Ace. I feel like she is either Demi-Ace or Gray-Ace.

Mei has a physical dragon form as well as the energy dragon. The energy dragon is a lot easier to summon compared to turning into a dragon - plus takes less energy.

While Mei likes cats, She is more of a dog person overall.

Mei used to be pretty shy as a kid mostly due to her trying to fulfill her parents idea of her. She only really came out of her shell when she became friends with Mk. Hence why Mei's parents, specifically her mom, didn't really care for Mk all that much. if anything they found him to be a bad influence for a while. also why Mk was never invited to Mei's house until S1E3

Mei has a better relationship with her father as compared to her mother. While both her parents are more traditionalists her father always was a bit more lenient and supportive of his daughters eccentricities.

Mei met Mk when out in town with her family. She saw him trying to win a crane machine and ended up helping him get the monkey plush he wanted...even if it was cheating the system. (also yes the plush he is seen with I headcanon to of been won by Mei and gifted to him)

Mei was a late bloomer when it came to her dragon powers which just added to the stress she had of being the family disappointment.

Mei often speaks without a filter when around the rest of the monkie kid group as she feels like she can truely be herself with her friends as compared to her family where she feels constantly stifled.

Mei is a variety streamer. She most often streams video games but sometimes will do vlogging streams along with MK as they go around the city. She has definitely streamed MK fighting a demon before.

Mei has raced illegally at least once and she totally WON.

Mei made the upgrades to her bike herself, such as the ability for it to come to her when she calls it. It made it easy when she has the sudden burst of motivation to drive it.

At first Mei was incredibly polite when meeting Pigsy and Tang, not fully coming out of her shell right away. At first Pigsy thought Mei would be a good influence on MK - he was proven wrong when Mei became more outgoing and starting causing mischief with MK.

Mei definitely crashed through MKs window while in her dragon form at least once (she was probably trying to visit him while he was grounded lol). Pigsy was not impressed.

Mei went to private school when she was a kid meaning that her and MK were only able to hang out after school. Though as she got older she had a tendency to start skipping class to go crash MKs classes instead.

Some mixed headcanons that don't belong with one character or another:

Mei and Mk are literally the only friends each other has. MK always struggled to make friends due to kids finding him obnoxious. Mei struggled to make friends due to her upbringing along with her ADHD making her rather abrasive.

[fossilizedremorseful]

"I'm sorry she didn't handle the situation in a way that was comfortable for you." ?????!??!?!??? No, I didn't expect her to immediately confront a man in the middle of the library after I verbatim said "HEY IT ISN'T A PROBLEM YET but that man over there keeps staring me down every time I go over there to help that lady and its starting to get creepy, I'm just letting you know" because I think, I think, any other person's reaction would've been to ask more questions maybe, or hey! SINCE YOU APPARENTLY KNEW THE FUCKING GUY maybe TELL ME that that's just how he acts instead of telling him that he was making me uncomfortable and thus making a fucking scene and making him feel uncomfortable enough to leave the library??!!? Because, you know, its his fucking neighborhood, and also because, you know, if you have fucking eyes, you could see that I have bright ass orange hair, you know, really recognizable hair. So when this story gets passed around town, as these things always do, there's no way to not ID me :) which is just so fucking fun and cool. So no, I guess, maybe, I was not comfortable with how the situation was handled. I guess I was expecting, idk, maybe some tact and grace coming from the woman who's supposedly been a security guard for several years. And allegedly dealt with varying levels of conflict. Because now patrons are probably gonna be nervous to look at me like I'm a fucking celebrity who yells at people when they make eye contact. Since I fucking guess no one else in this bitchass library can use their brain. Or god forbid, communicate with me instead of immediately jumping to confrontation. Like WHY WOULD YOU NOT JUST TELL ME THAT'S NORMAL FOR HIM. I genuinely want to know what I have been doing in the last eight months that gives the impression that I would not be accommodating to that. I genuinely genuinely am staring to believe that grown ass adults just cannot handle quiet people, like maybe a 5'4 person with 0 muscle mass is so scary to talk to that you just won't tell me shit. I mean it has to be RBF right??? I am so so soooo sorry for not holding your hand and spoon feeding you social interactions, I truly thought we were adults with heads on our shoulders, that is so deeply my mistake. "We just want to make sure staff feels comfortable before anything else" hey jackass?? In what WORLD would this make a n y o n e more comfortable dude WHAT. I will take responsibility and say that I should've just kept my mouth shut and dealt with it. And you can bet your entire ass that the next time I do feel uncomfortable in that fuckass, paneled, cave of a building that I will not say a word. I would say rant over but I will be screaming about this for days.

[dannystheone]

I hope ya dont mind if i gave you some headcanons for the main four!

Starting with Kyle!:

-The most ticklish human being on this planet.

-He has to keep it secret from most of his friends bit ESPECIALLY cartman

-Stan found out Kyle was ticklish when they were little but he didnt think he would still be THIS sensitive (life is full of suprises huh LOL)

-Whenever anyone mentions tickling around him, his face goes bright red

-Sometimes his own HAIR can tickle his ears

-Since its canon that Stans good at tickling i feel like they would get into tickle fights alot….But its most likely just Kyle getting free tickles LMAO

- When you tickle him for too long his laughter is like wheezy with a few snorts

-CANNOT. HANDLE. NIBBLES. AND WHEN THE ‚OM NOM NOM’ SHIT? yeah he is gone

-When Stan gave Kyle nibbles once he thought he hurt his best friend because he screamed so loudly

-He cannot handle air tickles or anticipation. He will start laughing before anyone touched him (to the point where he hiccups)

-HIS LAUGHTER IS SO SWEET LIKE AT FIRST ITS THOSE CUTE GIGGLES THEN ITS FULL ON WHEEZY LAUGH THEN JUST VOICE CRACKS SNORTS AND HICCUPS

LETS MOVE TO STAN:

-He isnt ticklish. Thats a stupid question…At least thats what he tells everyone. In reality Stan is just as ticklish as anyone

-He would always tickle his friends but he cannot. CANNOT take what he dishes out. Especially when there are a few people tickling him then he is GONE

-When Wendy found out Stans ticklish she always poked his sides just to hear him squeak

- HAS A STUPIDLY TICKLISH NECK. And Kyle always gives him those dumb tickly kisses (he loves them AHEM)

-Whenever he gets drunk he always melts into a giggly puddle and hes 10x times more ticklish. I dont make the rules

-Whenever theyre playing superheros and someone tries to tickle him he will SCREAM for his life because he thinks its not fair

-Oh and also baby talk? Yea he hates it…becauseitworkstoowellonhim

NEXT ONE ISSSSS KENNY:

-God hes also SO ticklish…A little less than Kyle BUT STILL

-HIS MUFFLED GIGGLES ARE ADORABLE

-Karen always tickles Kenny to cheer him up (it works every single time)

- His laughter through his hoodie isnt loud but when he isnt wearing it?..God preapare yourself.

-He has this like high pitched laugh ITS ADORABLE BUT SO LOUD

-Whenever the guys are playing the superheros and theres a tickle fight going on Mysterion will NOT look at it..He doesnt want to get a lee mood

-But yet the guys always tickle him because they want to hear his genuine laughter and not his raspy voice

- Even tho he doesnt MIND being tickled he always likes to be the ler!

- He always KNOWS what teases work best on people…He CAN be mean and he WILL be.

AND NOW THE LAST ONE..CARTMAN!:

-Some people think that he isnt ticklish. Because theyre too scared to find out

-In reality he has a few spots that are either SUPER TICKLISH or just make him melt and giggle

-His laughter is really loud with snorts and squeals If you want to hear that go for his belly

- But if you want to hear his giggles go for his back or neck both work!

- NOW I KNOW IM TALKING ABOUT THE SUPERHEROS A LITTLE TOO MUCH BUT IDC. When theres a fight going on and Tweek tries to zap Cartman for being a dick he just goes: „NO! NO THATS NOT KEWL!- ILL TELL MY MOM ON YOHOHUHU!”

- Hes the most sadistic ler known to man.

- If anyone doesnt give him whatever he wants he will tickle them until they cry

ANYWAYS THATS ALL LEMME KNOW IF YA LIKED EM!

I have uh

nothing to add

gonna think about these for a few hours and let my brain puddle into my shoes thanks

[novemberdevils]

I’m stuck waiting for my train to come so I will be answering your answers and then comment about the chapter for a bit.

No because cunty jack is the best thing that could happen to anyone and please let him out a lot more me and nico would be appreciative of it, I feel like jack being the only narrator also gives the fic a sense of being a reality rather than a fic because irl all of are unreliable narrator’s because we have no idea what other people think-look it’s 3 AM you will be getting a 3 AM wisdom from me ignore them- but jack not being able to trust that what the other person is telling him is kinda heartbreaking; he thinks that everything that is said to him has to have a gain to the other person and he cannot believe that someone would compliment him simply because they wanted to, STOP TEASING IMOLA AND MONACO you are torturing me!!!, oh yeah like duh they want to swap seats what do you mean they could be making out they would never, ok good I was terrified that carlos would be a Bad Man and betray jack so good to know they are at least on the same page with this, im THIS close to bribe you to stop teasing imola and Monaco like please my poor heart cant handle it especially with imola, jack being unreliable is the strongest bond love that for him, making trevor an indy driver is the best decision like he embodies the chaos and help make it even more chaotic so it feels the best decision rather than have him a Regular Guy, (unless nico told somebody in his corner who knowsssss) omg PLEASE post something with nico pov I will do anything you want please im begging you, what do you mean he will finally blow up about how the people are ignoring? How stressed he is PLEASE post it NOW!!!!. 

Please tell me about the inertia playlist I genuinely would love to hear about your thoughts and who do you think fit which song, it. i will be forreal i think i did say in the last of your asks i answered that i won't write nico pov because narrative reasons i would only make an exception to write some dumb shit like that and post it on tumblr. I will annoy you until you either hate me or post the nico pov so I apologise in advance, oh yeah the buying food was established so we can have even more fights and the loser have to but food and it’s the best thing we did, please I would do anything I can to throw perez from the rb seat and get Oscar to be there but I can’t abd I have to settle for being happy and unhappy when he wins, OMG what do you mean that you talk about me I blushed genuinely like my face is so red it’s not funny 😭😭 I got so happy reading that and believe me I cannot stop talking or thinking about your fic it’s taking too much space in my life; my friends were telling me that I was close to getting fined every time I talk about it but they are also invested in it, but yeah genuinely this made me so happy, car accident are a vital part of an f1 race so I know that this is not going to be the last one but don’t put them all in jack’s home race he needs to win one.

THE SNIPPET??? HOW DARE YOU OH MY GOD I HATE YOU PLEASE POST THE CHAPTER, LIKE GENUINELY I WAS GOING TO FUCKING SCREAM IN A TRAIN I NEED MORE!!!!!!.

As a punishment for you for posting that snippet I will not put the comment about the chapter here but you will have to wait until I decide I punished you enough then I will send it.

Please post the chapter I will bribe you im not above bribery 

i yam still here. Hello. cunty jack my beloved... he is definitely here to stay, even if jack keeps going back on it in his head. he still thinks he should Not act like that to the media, then he keeps doing it. womp womp. i love 3 am wisdom... and you are right + that's another part of why i intend to keep the entire fic as jack's perspective, even tho i've had more than one person ask about a nico pov lol. like i said i am not against doing a silly little tumblr drabble from inertia!nico's pov or something but as far as the main fic goes it will be all jack all unreliable all the time. he is on the struggle bus. cannot read nico for shit. but he tries. he is just wrong a lot. oops! jack Is in fact a big fan of assuming the worst in everyone and assuming that everyone thinks the worst of him (a little bit of egocentrism there). even when nico is being genuine towards him he just cannot fathom why nico would ever want to be genuine towards him, so he refuses to consider that as a possibility. obviously it must be some kind of game or ego trip or something that nico gets some type of pleasure/gain from because he would never just be genuine with jack. they're rivals that would be stupid!

i will never stop teasing imola and monaco... well maybe imola bc hopefully i will post that soon. but monaco is still a big old work in progress i think i paused writing to do imola editing in the dead middle of a scene lmao that was definitely a choice. that's so a later me problem though... hopefully i will remember all the scene plans i did not write down anywhere! brain notebook

i just htmled one of the Jack Blows Up scenes. so you will find out soon. evil laugh

i do srsly want to go into unnecessary detail about the playlist i will probably make a google doc that has like viewing access and just post the link at some point in the interest of it being easily editable (bc i am still making changes to that playlist lol i probably will be forever). i do love to yap. and i listen to that playlist A Lot and am often thinking about the implications of a lot of the songs on there so i likely will get into it. and post said link. when doc exists. that doc is still just a vague thought

hey i Am a certified yapper and most of the people in my life are aware that i write some kind of fanfiction tbh so i really cbf with my dignity or anything when it comes to admitting that. i was in the creative writing program at my college for a while and fun fact like Every creative writing major writes or has written fanfiction... i would be in class talking about this shit. and getting super long asks/comments/messages/anything about my fics (i mean getting Any Anything about my fics tbh) makes me super happy so i could not help but be like. omg look at how much this anonymous internet person has to say about a thing i wrote! it brings me a lot of joy so thank you for that

oh haha yeah my evil snippet. as repirations for taking so long on this chapter. BUT IS ALMOST DONE well not really almost i'm Nearly halfway through the html i think (it gets hard to tell) and then i'm just gonna post it. whenever it's done. we're trucking

:( i will post soons

[dumbbitchfrommars]

If that’s her. Why the fuck have you not let us know? We’re all adults know and it’s literally fucking necessary. It’s general fucking knowledge. It’s obligatory. If someone is literally MOVING INTO THE HOUSE. maybe you should let me know about it. I’m fucking over it. I’m so fucking over it. I actually don’t think I can handle another night like this without losing my shit. This week has been hard enough as is. Like I grow and I mature and I learn patience and understanding to the best of my ability - which is ALOT BETTER THAN MOST FUCKING PEOPLE CAN I MENTION - and you keep on FUCKING pushing. You just keep pushing!

I am so fucking excited to get out of here. Let’s push that moving date forward. How about late Feb? ASAP? Cause I’m fucking ready. I was born ready. Jk I was born ready if I was born a few months ago. A year ago. I’m ready.

I want another drink. I want a Dario/Rick type. No. I want a rivi type! Why do I want a rivi type when there are Dario types in the world! I want both. But there’s just a little something something about rivi. I want him more. He’s a pretty boy with an inflated ego and way too much confidence. As much as I say I love a man who’s unassuming and mysterious - god do I love a man with a big ego. WHY AN I LIKE THIS!

And how did I flip so quick from rage to lust. Someone help me. Maybe I should have gone out tonight. I’m too broke. But you only live once! But I just can’t be assed with any of them. They’re all out of alignment with me. Yet somehow I attracted them… ugh. What on earth is the matter with me at the moment?

I love myself for being able to write so well. And consistently. It might be the one thing keeping me sane right now. The one thing distracting me from reality right now. Distracting me by sucking me face first Into It. God. God ! I want my drink to be cold now so I can drink it and just be drunk. I want a cigarette when I’ve borderline got pneumonia from the weeks long cough I’ve had. I’m on a spiral. It’s always at this time of year too. Fucking Capricorn/aquarius season.

Or is it just every season? It’s always. All the time. I’m just getting better at getting used to it. But it’s always been like this. Let’s not go there.

I’m actually quite happy and content in my chaos at the moment. Keeping busy keeps me sane. But my family… my “home”… my prison more like. It’s fucking jelly. It’s completely draining. I HATE IT HERE!!!!!!!! I needed to get that all out. I know I’ll miss it when I’m gone. And I’ll regret ever feeling this way. But I cannot wait for the moment they leave/I get out. I love my parents. I never want them gone for good. I just need distance and freedom. I want to drink without feeling like it’s a crime. I want to live without feeling constantly watched. Especially when I’m in a bad mood. WHY DOES IT ALWAYS GET WORSE WHEN IM IN A BAD MOOD. LIKE HELLO FUCKING BODY LANGUAGE - LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE BEFORE I HIT YOU OR SCREAM AT YOU OR THROW SOMETHING AT YOU. Jesus fucking Christ is it that hard to understand? The lack of social awareness is genuinely staggering.

I CANT WAIT TO LEAVE. I did my moodboard. I’ve made my lists. I’ve got my savings. I’ve got a plan. I’ve got a place! It’s all ready to happen. I’m ready to move forward. It’s going to happen. I’m ready to leave.

Weirdly enough I’m suddenly reconsidering my first option again. But that could cause A LOT of issues. I already agreed to one. But nothing was set in stone ! And nothing will change. So I’m not hurting anyone. It’s in my hands. I get to decide. I get to choose. One is a little cheaper, and 10 mins added in distance to uni/work. Or one is a little more and closer. Both are beautiful. One has a yard. Both is closer to the beach. Both have gorgeous creative women curating a vibe and with a knack for interior design. One might pigeonhole me into a deeper relationship with my dark side (drinking) thought I wouldn’t hate that because I’m in my alcohol era. The other would pigeonhole me back into weed and gateway me into other drugs. So many things to consider. But truly nothing that is a big fat red flag. Potentially only the fact that one place will be with a couple. And she has adhd. But would that really do any harm to me personally? No. My sisters clearly prefer one to the other. But what do I want? What do I need? I want to break the cycle of Saturn teaching me lessons the hard way. I know in my heart what is right - right?

In some weird fetishised way, I prefer learning things the hard way. Of putting myself in harms way because it’s the only way I’ll truly know what was best for ME. Is that bad? Or is that brave? I think that tells me what I should do.. though it might hurt some people.

[eldritch-spouse]

What type of Yandere is Grimbly? What does he do, what's likely to spark his obsession etc etc

(Minors dni)

TW: Yandere (duh); Brief mentions of physical abuse.

Grimbly is, by far, the neediest yandere you'll ever have to deal with. Breg is already prone to sticking to you like a tic, but Grimbly outdoes him by a landslide. This monster is starved of attention and validation, he's a black hole of recognition, if your attention is not on Grimbly 24/7- Then clearly something is very wrong here.

This one is an entitled brat. He feels that, after a certain amount of time being around you, he's owed your love. Not just that, but also your constant care and fawning. Grimbly's like a particularly needy house cat that will shove itself in your face anytime you try to be productive. You better have a good excuse to not be by his side, do you really need to finish those papers? He sits there, looking pretty, expecting his obsession to fret over his every cell.

An extremely manipulative monster, this one. He cannot handle anyone taking attention away from him. Grimbly is capable of murder, in spite of his fairly innocuous exterior, but to reach that point, his object of obsession must be impervious to his every mind game so far. And really, he'd rather not have to do gross stuff like touch a corpse. Ew. No, the bat-like monster is much more likely to turn on the waterworks and consistently victimize himself. Come on now, he doesn't even have a real family! He just has you, Y/N, he's alone working as a waiter in a shitty shady establishment- All he wants is someone who can be there for him and tell him he's doing okay. You always do this, you always try to leave when he needs you the most! Gaslight gatekeep, the works my friend. He's not the most subtle about it, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together and realize you're being played like a fiddle. But Grimbly has his sharp moments, and those overly adorable mannerisms of his do come in handy.

Also quite prone to massive tantrums. He's not stupid enough to try to hit you, considering you're probably much bigger than him and he's hesitant to use any sort of inhuman ability due to how unstable his power is- But you should count on loud screaming and shameless property damage. Say goodbye to every remotely expensive thing you've ever owned if you upset Grimbly to the point of genuine tears. Grimbly is not afraid to make a scene in public and paint you in a very negative light if it means getting what he wants. In fact, if he has to, this little monster will destroy your entire public image for his benefit. He is also prone to coercing violence out of you so that you end up hitting him (or someone else) and he can later on use that against you.

It genuinely does not take much to spark an obsession in Grimbly, he's already desperate for any source of validation, he's going to latch onto the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy his company. He's always been unhealthy with other people due to severe abandonment issues, just take his own (platonic) relationship with Santi for example! It's an almost parasitic caregiver/charge ordeal, and this is because Grimbly is constantly subconsciously seeking to emulate the parent/son dynamic he never had.

What seals Grimbly into a grotesque, feverish obsession with a person is if he picks up on heavy maternal tendencies. Anyone who is genuinely kind-hearted enough to go out of their way and care for others, cherish them, support them. Grimbly hones in on those qualities life a wolf in sheep's clothing, ready to be your pampered, cute little monster boyfriend. Seriously, it's like spidey senses, he can smell a genuine caregiver in a crowd.

To facilitate your situation here, I recommend you really take the caretaker role to heart around him, it's easy to placate Grimbly's bitter moods by spoon-feeding him his own treatment. Well of course he can't follow you to work, he needs his rest, you're not doing this to upset him, you're doing it because you care about his health! You get the gist, right? He won't wise up because the attention melts his brain. Really, aside from his incessant need for attention, Grimbly's not too hard to manage- He may even easily lean into submissive mindsets if you adopt a caring yet dominant demeanor around him.

Ultimately, Grimbly is your purse dog and he feels that you should coo over him every moment of your day.

[beez-nutz]

How I think the ppg and the rrb would be like when they're drunk

all of those are for when they're really really drunk

Butch

it would be him but worse

like everything chaotic about him would just, get enhanced

he would throw himself at tables, drink entire bottles of whatever's in front of him, anything to make people scream (whether it's cheering or being genuinely terrified or angry at him)

at the beginning he really is the heart of the party until everyone decides "this is just too much" and kick him out

Buttercup

Weirdly enough, I think she would get flirty?

cause like, buttercup is FAR from being flirty when she's sober

but I can totally picture her just telling everyone pickup lines and every single time people are like "?????" and of course they can't help being embarrassed and feeling SO attracted to her because, I mean, that's not common buttercup behavior

but she's rarely actually interested in anyone she flirts with

she just thinks it's fun

Bubbles

she would be so full of rage

challenging everyone to an arm wrestle and winning every single time

"WOOOOOO LET'S GO!!! WHO'S NEXT??" *takes a shot*

idk just the thought of feral bubbles makes me giggle

she and Butch absolutely cannot be together when drunk

Boomer

you know that wine mom thing where they drink a couple glasses of wine and start asking everyone to dance and sing with them?

yeah

"come here babe, get up, let's dance"

*starts slow dancing like a mom*

*like, straight up swaying his hips with a cup in his hand and snapping his fingers with the other*

because of this he will not get drunk unless everyone else is also drunk because it's just too embarrassing

Blossom

if you watch Brooklyn 99 you'll know what I'm talking about when I say blossom gets drunk like amy

for those who aren't familiar with the Amy Santiago drunkness scale, here's a list (and how I think it would be like with blossom)

One Drink Amy Blossom: One Drink Blossom is "a little spacey", being a bit out of touch with what's happening around her

Two Drink Blossom: Two Drink Blossom (a.k.a "Loud Blossom") shouts everything she says.

Three Drink Blossom: Three Drink Blossom (a.k.a "Blossom Dance Pants") dances constantly. This Blossom is very fond of drunk boomer and will accompany him in his wine mom shenanigans

Four Drink Blossom: Four Drink Blossom (a.k.a "Horny Blossom") is "a little bit of a perv", often making comments loaded with sexual innuendo. This is very interesting to watch when she's with buttercup because people will go insane. It's also VERY interesting to watch when she's around Brick.

Five Drink Blossom: Five Drink Blossom is "weirdly confident". She has a confidence level that she never normally displays, which is also fun to watch since it intersects with four drink Blossom.

Six Drink Blossom: Six Drink Blossom is "just sad". Six Drink Blossom is also when Blossom may get sick if she drinks more.

Seven Drink Blossom: a mystery, and so are the others after that. Blossom hasn't been able to drink more than 6 drinks without immediately collapsing

it also goes without saying that it is incredibly hard to even get to One Drink Blossom since she's such a goody two shoes

Brick

you'll rarely ever see brick get really really drunk

both because he's very good at handling alcohol and because he hates his drunk self. it betrays everything he believes in

that is because drunk brick 1. has absolutely no filter and 2. is very clingy

that results in a lot of "you know I really like you right, buttercup? you're really really cool" and "bubbles your dress is pretty you're very pretty" and "I love you guys so much!!!" (his brothers)

but the best of drunk brick is when he's around blossom

we have yet to see drunk blossom encounter drunk brick. usually one of them is much sober than the other so they end up taking care of one another

but yeah drunk brick just straight up hugs blossom and tells her she smells nice and is so smart and so pretty

once he actually almost told her he loved her but she stopped him mid sentence cause that would be just hurtful

[berrymoos]

彡﹒﹒🦇🖤💀⛓️🎲🎸

🎸 — regressor eddie munson headcanons!

"just give me a sec!" * struggles with html to code the color i want, gives up, & conks out * ,, srry there aren't a lot 💔

no set age range, he's just a little guy! he doesn't rlly care for putting an age to his regression anyway; it's his time to just mess around & be silly! however, out of him, robin, & jonathan, i would say he has middle tot energy..?

little guy loooves horror media! nightmare on elm street, halloween, gremlins ... relatively anything horror related he's making grabby hands at, buuut he needs to watch something a lot less extreme if he wants to sleep well at night o(╥﹏╥)

he only has three pacifiers in his possession (two of which steve purchased, one of which eddie impulsively stole bought himself), & all of them have been chewed on ... every single one of them, some more abused than the other. he has some little teethers lying around too to stop that, but he prefers his pacis (& his hair ಠ_ರೃ gross)

one time he chewed on his figures for his dnd set and broke one. he cried the entire time steve fixed it & never did it again. he plays with his dice now, rolling them over and over and over again for almost no reason; he uses them to make decisions sometimes

"if i get a six, i caaaan ... get some more ice cream!" - "eddie, youve already had–" - "I GOT A SIX!!! i get more ice creeeam!!" - "eds–"

his favorite game is hide-n-seek, bc he thinks jumping out of his hiding spot to scare the seeker when they get close is the funniest thing in the history of ever. he cannot handle what he dishes out tho – robin copied him once when he was the seeker & his scream startled jonny into tears. nooot a good way to wake up from a nap

bc he chews on his hair so much – and also bc it's simply curly hair & it's so easy to mess it up – he needs to have it washed somewhat frequently. nancy usually helps him with that bc she has curlier hair herself & knows how to care for it, & man. he loves it. she knows how to comb his hair without yanking and massages his scalp during the entire washing process & it feels so gooood!!

he shakes out his hair like a dog when it's wet, no matter the reason. nancy's gotten drenched after every hairwash; at first it was minor annoyance – she even got slapped directly in the face by his hair once – but now, when she gets done, she goes "are you gonna shake out? go ahead and shake out!" & she covers herself with the towel while he shakes aaaaall out (*´︶`*)ฅ♡

for the most part, he takes off his rings when he's beginning to get small – he's not as uncoordinated as robin, but he's definitely not as steady on his feet as big him and one wrong fall could leave him with a ring imprint on his face – but he keeps one on each hand, just bc he can >:3 robin gave him these fake rings to wear as replacements & sometimes he forgets to take them off after he's unregressed 💀

potty mouth. lots of "fuck!"s when he's scared & "shit..."s when something goes wrong. it's not the biggest problem in the world bc eh, it's just a few words & his friends also aren't saints when it comes to said words (but robin & jonny likes to tease him by going ">:0 eddiiie, don't SAY that! ... what the hell, eds..." & ":0 eddie, das a no-no word!", but they also rlly don't care hshejwjd) but the day he got jonny – the least talkative regressor out of them all, mind you – to say the word fuck on accident in front of nancy? (((;゜Д゜))) "ed–" - "IT WAS ROBBIE!" - "NUH-UH!" - "YUH-HUH!" - "NUH-UH!!" genuinely nance wasn't even upset 😭

eddie & robin get into the "nuh-uh, yuh-huh!" arguments & steve and nancy have had to help them come to a conclusion all the time – it wouldn't be a playdate if they didn't

playing with his hair gets him to sleep so so easily. he's being stubborn about sleep? is he saying he's not sleepy even tho everyone can tell he toootally is bc he's yawning & his blinks are getting longer? tie his hair up repeatedly for a good little while & you'll start hearin snores

he sleeps like a log too, so if he conks out in a tangled position on the top of the couch, someone is going to have to carry him to bed bc jostling him isn't gonna work. he falls asleep on steve all the time & he just lets him even tho he drools pools on his shirt

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[izusun]

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.