#i like that it seems that he never thinks too hard about this kind of thing he just genuinely thinks its fun to wear dresses/skirts/etc

[talon-dragonbeast]

okay, ive seen way too many posts on the community tags talking about the tiktok ban and saying stuff like "i hope tiktok therians dont come in here theyre so awful and i hate them lol". and... i dont know what to tell you guys, i think thats mean as hell.

imagine, just for a second, that youre a therian on tiktok. at 13 years old, youve found a friendly community where people express themselves with masks, tails, and a type of movement called quadrobics. they seem to be having fun, so you decide to join in. and for a while, youre having fun too! you start practicing quadrobics, which is tough at first but you work hard to get better. you ask your parents for some cat masks, which you decorate with paint and faux fur. you make videos of yourself and your friends, wearing cat masks and dancing on all fours to some bland indie song.

then, out of nowhere, one of your posts goes viral. and suddenly, youre not having fun anymore.

"therians are crazy", "if you identify as a dog you should be chained and made to sleep naked outside", "my little brother came out as a therian and i bullied him until he stopped lol", "if i see a therian in the woods im shooting them", "if you want to be an animal, ill treat you like one".

again, YOURE 13. so you get defensive, because people you dont know are attacking you online and as a young teen, you dont know what to do to make it stop. so instead of confronting them, you try to please them instead. "im not crazy, im just having fun" turns into "i dont identify as an animal, only crazy people do that!" and then to "therians dont actually think were animals; thats lycanthropy and its wrong". this is what others in your community are saying, so it must be true, right? it helps slow down the criticism at least, if only for a little while; even if it never fully goes away. so you keep saying it, even to others in your community, because if it protects you from judgment, why not?

but now youre dealing with the possibility of your platform disappearing. youll lose your friends, the community youve worked so hard to be a part of. you heard some friends say they might switch to instagram if tiktok gets banned, while others prefer reddit or tumblr. Feeling curious (you didnt realize there were therians on other sites!), you decide to check out tumblr to see what that community is like there. the first post you come across at the top of the tag? "i hope tiktok therians dont come here theyre so awful and i hate them lol".

so yeah. thats the problem with making blanket statements like these; it only pushes away members of our own community. shame is not a motivator, and your aggressiveness gets us nowhere. remember, one catches more flies with honey than with vinegar. so be kind.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

My Fair Lady's Maid (Regency!Aemond x Lady's Maid!Reader)

Part 3: With a Little Bit of Luck

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: none

Point of View: Limited third person omniscient

Author's Note: Finally had a burst of inspiration for this last night, and here we are!

With a Little Bit of Luck

Miss Doolittle stood at the base of the stairs in her little basement apartment. It wasn’t really an apartment, even if she’d lived there for nearly three years. In truth, it was a cellar. The owner of the house above had graciously put a small bed in it when she first rented it, but he also continued to keep his winter stores and several chests of assorted junk there, taking up nearly half the space.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. Back then, when she hadn’t wanted to go out, see anyone, or do anything, those chests of junk had entertained her. And she loved the smell of the dried apples. Even if it was small, it was cozy. There was enough room for everything she owned in the world, which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

All of it was now stuffed into her rucksack; still, the bag wasn’t full. It likely would have been if she’d been able to buy that clock at the market yesterday, but she didn’t want to think about that now. She was already too sad.

It didn’t make sense, her sadness. She was leaving this cave to go and live in a manor house. She would never be woken by rats again, and she would have enough money to buy a hundred clocks. But this had been her home for the past three years.

She squared her chin and adjusted the strap of her rucksack. She’d started over before. It was how she ended up here. And this time… this time would be easier, she knew it.

So, she walked up the stairs and out of that little basement, hoping she had enough time to run one last errand before the cart from Kingswood came to take her to her new home.

The village green, like her apartment, could not truly be called its name. Not since the village council decided to put gravel paths all over it and plant all kinds of trees, bushes, and flowers in most of the blank spaces between the paths, while others were left empty for vendors to set up for market day. It was pretty, but it made crossing the green and finding the person she was looking for even harder.

Luckily, he seemed to be in a good mood today. All she had to do to find him was follow the sound of his fiddle.

“Egg?” she called when she came to a patch of trees and bushes that were now big enough to obstruct her view. She knew he was somewhere in there, but she couldn’t see him.

His bow scratched against his fiddle before falling silent. “Is that you, Little Girl?”

She wanted to protest the nickname but didn’t. He’d been calling her that since she was a little girl, and he was a vagabond teenage boy who played the prettiest music she’d ever heard. “It’s me.”

The bushes rattled, and a moment later, the man Miss Doolittle knew as ‘Egg’ burst into the open and hugged her so hard she nearly fell over.

“God, am I happy to see you!” He started spinning her back and forth, and several trinkets spilled out of her bag. “I thought I’d missed my chance to say goodbye!”

She finally gave up resisting and smiled as she hugged him back. “Not yet. They aren’t picking me up ‘til noon.” Which left them a little under a quarter-hour to catch up before she had to meet the Kingswood coachman in front of the church.

Egg finally set her down, running a hand over his shaved head. She’d never actually asked if he shaved it, but he was too young to be bald, and she’d seen several nicks on the back of his head that looked like they came from a razor. He immediately bent down to pick up the knick-knacks he’d accidentally forced her to spill. “If I’d known you were leaving Rosby, I would have come back sooner. Why didn’t you send a letter?”

“Where would I send it? You only stay in the same place for a week at most.” Besides, she didn’t have much spare money to spend on sending a letter. “You leave as soon as your bar tab gets too high.”

“True,” Egg admitted. He finally finished tucking her trinkets away, then strapped his fiddle to his back and offered his arm. “And it seems I’ll have to add Kingsgrave to the rotation if I ever want to see my Little Girl again, even though it’s quite far.”

She looked over at him, confused. “I’m not goin’ to Kingsgrave. I’m goin’ to Kingswood.”

He stopped suddenly, tugging on her arm hard to get her to face him. He wasn’t smiling anymore. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen Egg not smiling before. It unsettled her.

“You’re going to work at Kingswood?”

She nodded.

“What position?”

“I’ll be a lady’s maid.”

“To Lady Helaena?”

“Yes.”

He bit his lips. He wasn’t just not smiling. He was angry. His eyes had grown dark, and his brow furrowed.

“Is that bad? Have you heard bad things about Lady Helaena? I know they say she’s odd, but I haven’t heard anyth – ”

“I have no quarrel with Helaena, no. I just…”  He again ran a hand over his head, his fingers digging into the skin in a way Miss Doolittle was sure was painful. He tucked his chin in for a moment and took a deep breath before looking back up. He was smiling again, but it was strained. “I’m just worrying about my Little Girl. Ignore me. Helaena is very kind.”

She sighed in relief, slumping into his side as they began walking again. “That’s good. I’ve been lookin’ forward to this for so long, I’d hate if it ended up a nightmare.”

Egg looked at her with a brow raised. “You’ve been looking forward to this?”

“Well, yeah.” His tone sounded doubtful. Did he not think she could do the job? “I know I’ve never had an actual job before, but I do now. I’ll work real hard, I swear it. I’ll be a proper lady in no time, you’ll see.”

“I’ve no doubt you can be a proper lady,” Egg said while ruffling her hair. “I just don’t know if I want you to be. I like you very well, just as you are, I’ll have you know.”

She liked herself too, mostly. Sometimes she wished she was taller or had prettier hair. Every once in a while she took a dislike to the color of her eyes, but it usually faded. Whenever she had to decide whether to pay rent or buy a nice warm meal at the pub, she wished she was someone else entirely.

But if she were taller, it would have been hard to climb down the small staircase to her cellar. If her hair was different, Harry wouldn’t have told her how much he liked it almost every time she saw him. And if her eyes were a different color, she wouldn’t be reminded of her mother every time she caught her reflection.

“I’m not going to become a whole new person,” she declared. Egg looked dubious as he led her to sit on a stone bench across the road from the church. “Just… more refined. Now stop griping at me and talk about something else!”

Egg threw his head back in a great, wide smile as he laughed. “Only since it’s your last day in Rosby, Little Girl. What do you want to talk about?”

The first topic that came to mind was the two men from yesterday, the kind one and the brute. But that was too maddening. “You know about Lady Helaena, right?” He nodded. “Then tell me about the rest of them?”

He hesitated for a long while before he bit his cheek and began. “They’re the same as all the others. The lord of the house has a stick shoved so far up his ass he can’t bend over. The grandfather is a desperate social climber. The th.. second son is something of a rake, but good-hearted. Helaena though, she’s a good girl. Strange, but good. She’s very kind, like you. I think you’ll get along. … How do you feel about insects?”

Miss Doolittle laughed. “I’ve lived in a dirty basement for three years. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Egg said with a secretive smile.

God, she was going to miss him. His humor, his music, that smile. It had been very easy to fall in love with him when she was a girl, though she’d since grown out of it. He was one of her dearest friends, but far too… Egg for her to ever truly love or marry him. Still, she was envious of how happy he always was, even with no money in his pockets.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She dug through her knapsack to find the little coin purse she’d made from a beautiful curtain Mrs. Cunningham discarded when it was torn. She extracted the two crowns and one half-crown she had left over from what that horrible man had thrown at her the day before. “These are for you.”

Egg’s blue eyes went wide. “Where the hell did you get that?”

She thought for a moment how much to tell him before deciding on simply, “A customer.”

His surprise melted into mischief. “What kind of customer?”

“What, exactly, are you implying?”

“Nothing! Just wondering if you’d decided to sell something other than flowers, and if so, how much you charge? Because I’ll give these right back if…”

“You’re disgusting!” she shrieked as she hit him with her bag over and over until he finally held his hands up in concession.

“You have my sincere apology.” He righted his mussed clothes, then looked at her. “But really, Little Girl, why are you giving me these?”

Because just looking at them makes me want to vomit. She sighed. “Because I don’t need it – I’ll be making my own money soon. You need it, though.”

Egg’s eyes turned thoughtful and soft. It was the kind of look she would once have swooned over. “You’re too kind. I worry you’ll lose that at Kingswood. That place and those people will wring it out of you if you let them. Promise me you won’t?”

“I promise,” she whispered, dropping the coins into his outstretched hand. She wrapped her hand around his, closing his fingers around the money. “If you promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

He laughed, shaking their joined hands. “I’ll do my best. But with a little bit of luck, I’ll always have people like you around to help me out.”

She started to chide him, to warn him that he’d eventually need to learn to rely on himself, even if she knew he’d only laugh it off. But a sharp whistle and the crack of a whip sounded from the end of the street, and both their heads turned to find its source.

A two-horse cart had turned onto the main road. Not an unusual sight in itself, especially for a market town. But it wasn’t market day. And it was no ordinary cart, but one she’d only ever seen in illustrations in books. The cart of daring gentlemen and rakes. Its back wheels were twice the size of those in the front and carried seats made of green-painted wood and black leather that gleamed in the sunlight.

“Of course, they sent the fucking phaeton,” Egg murmured, giving a name to the vehicle. He stood quickly, pulling her up with him, and embraced her tightly. “Good luck, Little Girl. I’ll miss you.”

Then, he left. Releasing her from his grasp so swiftly she stumbled back a step. By the time she’d caught her breath, he was gone, without even the music of his fiddle to hint at where he’d gone.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered to the wind, hoping it would carry her words to him.

Only a few hours later, she was stepping out of the cart and onto the gravel drive of the Kingswood Estate.

The estate itself sprawled across half the woods, according to the coachman, Arryk, who had informed her when they officially crossed onto the property miles ago. The house, a term which seemed to Miss Doolittle to be a massive understatement, was near the center of it, within a smaller, but still enormous, gated park.

It was beautiful, with pale stone walls coated with ivy, gleaming glass windows framed with iron, and surrounded by flowers of every shape and color. And it was to be her new home.

Well, she was to be one of its servants. But still. Servants could call it home, too.

But what servants could not do was enter through the main doors. Instead, Arryk led her around the side of the house and through a smaller, much dirtier door into a stiflingly hot kitchen.

A woman who appeared to be around two hundred years old – the cook, presumably – barked orders at several kitchen maids with such ferocity it was a wonder that fire spewed only from the oven and not her mouth. As young men in fine suits filed into the room and began picking up silver trays laden with steaming food, the woman took a deep breath and started yelling at them instead.

Arryk leaned closer to Miss Doolittle. “Don’t do anything to get on Cook’s bad side,” he whispered, what sounded like genuine fear wavering in his voice. “She’ll roast you alive.”

As if she had heard him, the cook whirled around on him, her warm brown eyes blazing like hot coals. “What are you standing around for, Mr. Cargyll?” she bellowed. “And who’s this little waif?”

“Lady Helaena’s new maid.” His voice cracked like a boy’s.

The old woman huffed as those burning eyes examined her intently. “Put her in Mrs. Rivers’ sitting room and get out. I’ll not have you tracking horse shit in my kitchen.”

Arryk nodded hastily, the movement like that of a soldier accepting a command from his general. He took two steps forward, indicating Miss Doolittle should follow when he and everyone in the kitchen froze where they were.

Miss Doolittle followed their stunned gazes to the base of a narrow staircase and the two people who had just descended.

The first was a woman, neither old nor young, with deep black hair that flowed down her back in a long, silky sheet. Though she wore the dress of a servant, the keyring hanging from her waist indicating that she was likely the housekeeper, there was a certain power in her green gaze that made Miss Doolittle think the woman had been a queen in some other life.

But the thought did not last long, for her eyes drifted to the man standing just behind the housekeeper.

Shit.

The finest man she’d ever seen. With silver hair, one eye of crushing blue, one a milky white, and an angry red scar running across his face.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She hadn’t even met Lady Helaena, and she was about to be sacked.

Or, judging by the wicked delight in the man’s eyes and his crooked smile, perhaps she was about to be eaten alive.

The housekeeper turned to face the man, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Lord Aemond, do you know this girl?”

Lord Aemond.

Forget being sacked or eaten. He could simply have her executed. It may even be a mercy, to spare her the humiliation that burned within her like a thousand raging bonfires.

He turned to the housekeeper, the movement too graceful and smooth. “I’m afraid I do.” He looked back at Miss Doolittle. No, he looked past her. “Mr. Cargyll, I will not be needing you to take me to Rosby tomorrow, after all.”

Then, he did look at her, and the cold in his eyes felt like an icicle shoved through her heart. She wanted to run. To scream. To shrink into nothing just to escape him. She wanted to run all the way back to Rosby, find Egg, and beg him to take her far, far away from here.

But she remained where she was, under the hateful gaze of her new employer, unable to so much as blink as he smiled a ruthless, joyless smile. “I’ve been hoping to see you again, flower girl. I have a proposition for you.”

Egg’s joyous, carefree voice echoed in her mind.

With a little bit of luck.

He’d never specified whether it was good luck or bad luck.

[koolades-world]

the definition of insanity was to do the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

was that what was wrong with mammon? was he losing his mind?

why did his heart threaten to leap out of his chest when you entered the room? every time, he thought it might behave differently. it just wasn't fair how demanding you were of his gaze, despite the fact that you were unaware of this.

the more he thought about it, the more foolish his endeavors seemed. you were beyond stunning. it was naive of him to think he could resist thoughts of you. not a moment passed where he wasn't thinking of you. but, that led from one question to another. why?

your stupidly attractive smile and awful tendency to hug him like your life depended on it came to mind first. you were way too nice to him, too. for whatever reason, you gave him your time of day and always listened to what he had to say, no matter how stupid. why would you do that? even knowing you'd be getting yourself into trouble. you willingness to help out in his schemes was alarming as well.

he resolved to confront you about this toll you'd been taking on him. he wasn't sure what kind of answer he expected, but he'd be getting one whether he liked it or not.

"mc, I have somethin' to tell ya." he stumbled through his sentence.

you hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up from your work. mammon put a hand over what you were writing, so you'd be forced to pay attention to him. he clammed up. there he went again, doing something and expecting himself to react differently than he always had. you glittering gaze never failed to make his palms sweaty. the sound of blood rushing through his ears was almost deafening, to the point where he almost couldn't hear himself. he wasn't exactly sure what he said, but it caused you to stand up.

when you stepped towards him, he could only gasp for air when you placed both your hands on his shoulders and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

"is that the answer you were hoping for?" he couldn't find the words to respond. you'd left him speechless. all he could do was clutch you to his chest and nod.

he finally had his answer. he wasn't insane. he had just fallen for you, and it hurt from how hard it had been.

[nmakii]

christmas kids

about him, who was also born on december 25th. i used to spot your face in every crowd, now i can’t even remember your smile.

— kaiser hates celebrating his birthday. no exceptions; not even for you.

cw: mentions of kaiser’s backstory, gesner being vulgar (im his biggest fan), kaiser is a meany pants, self deprecation

parties like these were a pain. kaiser stood beside his drunken teammates, while ‘all i want for christmas is you’ by mariah carey blasted for the 6th time on loop. it was disgustingly corny how he’d have to act as if he gives a damn to celebrate christmas with his co-workers. if the club owner for bastard münchen hadn’t required attendance for this party, he would’ve definitely skipped it.

to be entirely honest, he never even saw the point of celebrating december 25th. every year, the streets of berlin would be glowing with festive lights, and the halls of cathedrals would loudly ring their church bells.

but in kaiser’s dark corner of hell, his father would beat the life out of him. more so than usual— his eyes would bruise purple for weeks, and his nose wouldn’t stop the stream of red that would bleed all over his ragged clothes.

kaiser had learned from a young age, his birthday wasn’t something that should be celebrated, or even acknowledged. it was the day his scummy mother abandoned his even scummier father; it was the day trash was born. how could such an occasion even be celebrated?

with his birthday being public knowledge though, he doesn’t exactly have a choice on if he wants to celebrate it or not.

as clock struck midnight, everyone yelled out christmas greetings and wishes of good will, as well as greetings for kaiser, now a year older.

“woo! happy birthday, asshat! you’re 19!” gesner, incredibly drunk, slurs to kaiser. “a year closer to your death… in the end, we’re all just waiting for the day we never open our eyes again… oh, this is just too sad…” grim shudders, falling to the ground.

birkenstock pulls grim off the floor, and the team gathers around and very off tunely sings happy birthday to kaiser, while ness struggles to light the candle placed on top of the leftover pizza, yet to be finished.

“…happy birthday to you!” they cheer. “make a wish, kaiser.” ness smiles, holding the box.

‘what do i want..?’ he asks himself. he already has a lot more than he’s ever wanted; a comfortable home, decent company— asking for anything else would just seem… wrong.

the candle gleamed a burning red, its’ shine reflecting on kaiser’s face. the hot flames on his face, and he suddenly realizes what he wants— to be human.

that’s all he’s wanted for the longest time, why should he wish for anything else?

he blows out the candle, and they clap. “you guys didn’t need to do anything, i didn’t want to celebrate my birthday.” he lightly reprimanded. ness frowns, he was the one who had wanted surprise kaiser in the first place.

but, gesner boos at his pessimism. “don’t be a jerk, dick cheese! just accept it!” he roughly slaps kaiser on his back, kicking all the air out of his lungs. “oof..!” he coughs. “g..guh… are you sure you’re a football player? you slap so hard, you’re better suited to volleyball.”

gesner scoffs, and goes off on his rant about kaiser’s narcissism.

‘this environment… it’s hostile but, i’m still in control. this… isn’t that bad.’ kaiser thinks to himself. he doesn’t receive their goodwill; he forces it out of them, and they respond with their own form of resistance. yet, they still pass to him, no matter what. because, he’s the one in charge of this team.

“…and, you keep showing off that pretty thing you’re leaving on the hook. she could totally do better than that ‘will they, won’t they?’ situationship of your’s! seriously makes me feel bad for her…”

…kaiser wasn’t exactly sure what brought gesner to bring you up. but, bringing up your… relationship, was a bit of a sour spot for him.

he wanted to love you, you were someone he wanted to stick around for a while. you were kind, almost heaven-sent. something about you that would make him keep coming back. maybe it was the way you’d wake up early with him and make breakfast together, or the way you’d sass him and put him in his place when he was being an asshole. but, he couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he should tear down those walls he’s built, and start over for you.

kaiser was used to restrictive environments, he thrived in discomfort. but, being vulnerable simply made his skin crawl with disgust. if it was for someone for you though… maybe he could try it. were you really worth it?

…he thinks you could be.

“it’s not a situationship, we’re just hanging out.” kaiser rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his mocktail. “plus, don’t you already have a girl you’re torturing?” he condescends.

thankfully, the party goes on without a fight starting, or kaiser’s birthday being mentioned anymore further.

and by the time kaiser arrives home, it’s already 2:30. he opens the door into his penthouse apartment.

the light is on.

he’s sure he didn’t leave the light on when he had left, there’s only one other explanation.

“s/o?” he called out.

you probably used the spare key for his apartment he gave you after much more frequent visits. did you think he was home?

“ah, hey!” you finally noticed his presence, waving hello. kaiser still had a suspicious glare on his face, his malice evident simply by his tone. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s your birthday!”

“so?”

“so, it has to be celebrated..! it was the day you were born after all.” you brainlessly informed him.

“i don’t celebrate it.” he sighs as he finally shuts the front door, dropping all his belongings on the console table.

“it’s the same day as christmas. it’s a hassle to celebrate two things.” he says the same excuse he’s used millions of times before but today, his act was getting sloppy. it’s clear by his sullen eyes that it’s more than just because it’s a hassle.

“uhuh… well, i made you a cake!”you urge him to come over. of course, it was a box set cake, but you still put tons of effort into decorating it!

what does he do? he wasn’t exactly sure on how to accept gifts in general. he passed through the narrow hall, and into the dining area.

he stared at the cake— it’s frosted in white french buttercream and its’ edges are piped blue with a french star tip. ‘happy birthday mikka’, it reads.

mikka… that isn’t a nickname that you’ve called him before. but, it’s cute. fuck, did he actually like this gift..?

���…how sweet.’ he thinks. kaiser picked up the box with both his hands, his touch was so delicate. he carried the cake over to the kitchen counter,

…and opened the trash.

“hey! what are you doing..?!” you run to stop him from dumping your hard work into the garbage.

it doesn’t stop him though, it doesn’t even make him struggle. “i told you i don’t celebrate it.” he huffs as some of the cake crumbles and stains his hands.

he takes a frosting-covered finger to his lips, indulging in his salty sweet taste. “ah… it’s good.” he compliments. something that only happens to make you angrier.

“then why did you throw it in the garbage, asshole?!” you yell out. how insensitive could a person get?!

“i already told you, or are those ears of your’s just for decoration?” he scoffs, the air is heavy.

and at that moment, he knew it.

michael kaiser is not meant to love, or be loved.

…

“get out.” he commands. his cold eyes hit you like a dagger. “h..huh..?” you ask, indignant at how you were being treated.

you knew kaiser would be hard to unravel but, why is he acting so different so suddenly?

“i said get out. i already decided…”

“…we’re over, s/o” he decreed. “whatever romance you and i might have had is gone. go find someone else to care about you. i’m not gonna fit your romantic fantasy.”

“i— wait, mikka, we can work this out, okay..?!” you ask, a panicked expression decorating your face. “goddamnit, fine— i’m sorry for calling you an asshole, okay?!”

you sound almost desperate in your tone. but, it still doesn’t shake his decision. “no… get out. find someone who can fulfill that fantasy of your’s, i’m never gonna be the perfect boyfriend that you’re dreaming about. understand?”

and, the cold reality faces you. a look of despair on your face, it’s incredibly pathetic to be in this low of a position right now.

ah, that look on your face… he’ll miss that look of terror and desperation, on your face especially. the way your pretty eyes gleam with tears, and the way your nose scrunches, trying to hold back your snot.

“…fine. i hope you’re happy with your life, kaiser.” you spitefully spit out. his chest hurts when he hears you call him by his last name. did that hurt him..? just a little bit…

…and, that’s when kaiser asks himself the same question.

were you really worth tearing down everything he’s known just to build it all up again?

the answer was yes. you’re worth everything money could afford; you’re as priceless as every star in the sky.

it was kaiser who wasn’t worth it. you deserved more than a scummy asshole who’s too scared love.

but, that’s just the problem with kaiser, isn’t it?

the closer he wants you, the more he pushes you away.

[starfxkrinc]

hey moony! can you pls write ab a conjugal visit with felon!jj. love you. smooches

less conjugal visit and more "first day out" fuck

you were trying to stall, doing your best to divert jj's attention away from the cleavage of your shirt, but it was impossible. he was a man starved, having gone 6 years without the touch of a woman and only having your letters to go off of.

there was a serious of poorly thought out decisions that led you here. from signing up to be an inmates penpal, to the explicit descriptions of what you'd do if you met to the risqué polaroids you attached to said letters. in your defense it didn't seem like jj would be getting out any time soon.

just your luck he got off on good behavior.

the meager meal was barely enough to distract him, even as he wolfed down what had to be his first good meal since he got out that morning. you on the other hand struggled to eat your fries, trying your best to chug down the ice cream soda he got you as a treat.

"you said it was your favorite." he had nudged it towards you, looking deceptively sweet with those blue eyes even has his large tattooed hand spelled danger. "and you're gonna need your energy. trust me."

still, you drunk it down, grateful for the rush of sugar to snap your sense as he paid for the meal. the motel wasn't far, a quick five minute drive on the back of his bike and before you knew it you were being walked through the door, with his lips on yours--his still salty and yours still sweet-- and a hand palming your ass.

jj barely got the two of you im, but he deposited you on the bed, turning to obsessively turn all the locks before he took off his shirt, fumbling with his pants and boots in his fervor to get naked.

"um, jj i don't know bout all this-" you sit still, shivering in the a/c chilled room overtly aware of how much of your ass hang out your shorts and the way your nipples are poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. there's no denying you look like the kind of girl that'd be here.

"aw cmon, don't pussy out on me now cupcake, you're just excited. bet you didn't think you'd see me so soon." he's right in front of you now. big and broad and glowing even in the dim lamplight, "talked all that shit in the letters now look at you. all scared."

you're defensive, "m'not scared." you were but he didn't need to know that.

"yes y'are. pretty little thing like you don't know what you're in for. a man has needs babydoll. and when those needs aint been met he gets a little..." he twists a hand beside his head, "cagey. now relax i aint gonna hurt you. take your clothes off."

shaking, you do. peeling your shorts off as you keep your eye on the bulge in his pants. when you take your shirt off, he gets so hard the head of his cock pokes out the top of his waistband.

you reach for him, tugging his bottoms down until your faced with every inch of jj's red, throbbing dick. suddenly, you become very aware of your months of involuntary abstinence, "is that gonna fit?" you moan, watching a bead of pre drip from where it pooled in his foreskin.

"i'll make it."

jj hauls you up by the back of the neck, kissing you hungrily before he turns you around to sprawl on your stomach. he spreads you open from the back so he can trace his thumb from your sticky hole to your clit, "that's what the fuck im talkin about." he mutters more to himself than you, adjusting so he can press into you.

the moan he lets out just from the heat of your pussy makes you shudder, then you tense at the first stretch of resistance.

"wait. jj, wait go slow, you're too-"

he pauses, "you done this before right?"

jj doesn't give you time to answer before he sinks in, bottoming out on the first thrust with a sticky squelch as you yelp underneath him.

"shit, just stay down babydoll. let me take this." he sets a punishing pace, holding you down with his hands on your hips as he fucks you rough and steady. you've never heard a man as loud as him before--panting and whining as you suck him in.

but you're not faring much better, each smack of his hips against your ass sends you sliding up the bed, you're stuffed so full you don't know whether to crawl away or throw your ass back for more. there's no denying it, you've never been fucked like this before. like the wet snatch of your pussy was a lifeline.

whoever was on the other side of the wall was in hell. the sounds coming from the two of you were ridiculous as you begged for him to slow down. the way he battered your cervix and pressed relentlessly against that sticky spot inside you had you in tears, clenching around him sporadically as you came. over and over from the overstimulation. there was no build up, no slow spread across your body as it hit you like a train, leaving you delirious.

"atop--stop--i can't, ohh my god, it hurts! i can't stop--"

jj clamps a hand over your mouth as he drops down, covering your body with his as he picks up the pace. he's slamming into you so hard all you can do is let out little squeaks.

"nuh uh, you need that sugar i--fuck--promise." he groans loud and long in your ear with his sweaty body sticking to yours as he pumps you full of cum. you can't tell which of you is shaking more.

"fuck. don't know who needed that more you or me." he reaches over to grab a cigarette, lighting it then taking a long drag, "i normally last longer than that sugar, swear i do. just cut me some slack alright it's been 6 years."

all you can do is let out a snort, feeling your eyes growing heavy as your body calms, "food. i want food."

jj smiles, "good. gonna need all the food we can get i booked us for 3 nights."

[clownstillwritesfanfic]

Wake Up Mr. Sleepyhead - Touya Todoroki x GN!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: The boy everyone had affectionately called “Mr. Sleepyhead” has finally woken up from his three year coma. You never imagined things would go down hill so quickly.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 6,528

Warnings/Notes: Reader is emotionally fucked, reader has a quirk, Touya and Reader are 16, mostly canon compliant, implied child death, pseudo enemies to lovers 

Disclaimer: Reader is kept as ambiguous as possible. This fic is safe for plus size readers and readers of colour. If you find something that contradicts this, please let me know. No use of Y/N.

———————————————————————

It’s been three years since he showed up.

You still remember that day so clearly.

You were thirteen when he arrived. You had been there since the opening of the children’s house. A man approached your parents when your quirk got out of control when you were eight and offered to enroll you in his newly built “school”. It felt more like a daycare than anything else. You learned a few school subjects but there was a lot of quirk training as well.

You were terrified, but persisted. Since you were one of the first, you got to witness other kids joining, and some of them got to leave. No one knew where they went, and Mr. Sunny wouldn’t disclose any information either. He’d always try to change the subject. You learned pretty quickly to let it go and not think too hard about it.

All the new kids always flocked to you. You were one of the few left from the first group, and kids were always so curious, so they always pestered you with questions. Because of this, you became one of the unofficial helpers. Mr. Sunny was the only staff, other than the doctor that would come in every few months for check ups or if someone got injured passed what a simple band-aid could fix. And then of course there was the House Master.

He never showed up in person. He always spoke through a screen. You were probably one of the few people that actually saw a glimpse of him back when he propositioned your parents.

Because you were so popular with the kids, it was easy to help care for them. They all saw you as an older sibling, even calling you as such sometimes. Although, over the years, you got tired. You hated this place. And you slowly started to hate the people in it. You hated how needy some of the kids were. How happy they all seemed to be despite never being allowed to see or talk to their parents. All the intense quirk training and unwanted child rearing wore you out. You slowly started to become a shell of a person. You were able to fake a smile in order to please the kids and throw off any suspicion Mr. Sunny had of you, but deep down, you couldn’t feel emotions anymore. You didn’t care about any of the kids that adored you.

And that included him.

You knew, once he was wheeled in on his bed, comatose, that you were going to have to help out. And you were right.

Mr. Sunny took care of any bathing and dressing issues, and the doctor took care of any medical ones such as replacing his IV and monitoring his healing. But you were in charge of keeping him company whenever you could and shooing away any stray children that snuck in to his room.

You hated it. You thought it was stupid. He’s in a coma, what sort of company would he need?

You mostly sat by his bed, staring at him. Waiting for some kind of movement so you could do anything else but this. But the only movement you saw was his chest slowly rising and falling and the only thing you could hear was the beeping of his heart monitor.

He looked awful when he first showed up. He had reconstructive surgery on his jaw, and third degree burns all over. They did manage to have someone with a healing quirk try and speed up the recovery, but they could only do so much. You weren’t gonna lie…you didn’t want to be near him at first. Because of his burnt, dead, skin he smelled awful. He needed to be bathed regularly but that could only do so much.

As he healed, and fresh new skin came in on some parts of his body and face, he started to look (and smell) better. You watched his healing process from start to finish. Talking to him sometimes as there was nothing else to do and sitting in silence can only get you so far with out wanting to rip your hair out.

You talked about anything and everything. The weather, the other kids, training, any trouble you had with the little school work they actually provided, how curious the kids were about him, etc. Over time, you started to enjoy the time you had with him, even if he never responded.

It was nice to get away from the rest of the “family”. Plus, it was an excuse to get away after a particularly hard session of training. Everyone here had powerful quirks. A lot of them had bodies that couldn’t adapt to their quirk. That was supposedly the purpose of this place. To help people cope with it all.

Luckily, you weren’t one of those people, your quirk didn’t effect your body much. Over use would exhaust you but it wasn’t as bad as some of the other kids. And definitely no where near as bad as this kid.

It was a normal day at the school when he woke up. You were watching over some of the older kids while Mr. Sunny took the younger kids for nap time. Most of them were doing some kind of arts and craft or playing, others opted to catch up on some school work.

You were helping a girl with her writing when you heard one of the new kids shout.

“Oh, the sleepyhead’s awake!”

You didn’t pay attention to what she was saying, more so the volume at which she spoke.

“Keep it down. You know the young ones are sleeping.” You scolded not looking up from the paper the girl was working on.

“Mr. Sunny!” A different girl yelled. “The sleepyhead’s awake!”

“Oi!” You shouted at her, still not noticing what everyone was yelling about. “He’s busy. Sit down and be quiet.”

“Where…am I?” A deeper and raspy male voice spoke. Now, that got your attention.

Your head snapped up towards the door where the voice came from and stared directly at an all too familiar face. Holy shit…he’s awake. His eyes are so…blue. You don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes that blue before. Seeing him awake and standing was weird.

You were released from your thoughts when the new girl spoke to him.

“This is our home! You slept for…let’s see…three years! You slept for three whole years! I just arrived, so I don’t know much, but that’s what Mr. Sunny said.” She explained. He looked shocked and upset at the news.

You stood up abruptly, your chair squeaking loudly on the floor. “Caroline! You can’t just spring something like that on him! You’re just confusing and scaring him.” You reprimanded as you walked over to the two.

“Ah…I-I’m sorry…I just…” Caroline tried to explain herself.

“Go sit down. I’ll handle this.” You sighed.

“But shouldn’t we tell Mr. Sun-“ another voice spoke up from the back of the room but didn’t get to finish when you interrupted them.

“NO! Don’t say anything to him yet. I’m handling this.”

You grabbed the white haired boy by the wrist, he was breathing heavily at this point and seemed to have zoned out.

“Come with me, quickly.” You dragged him out of the room and down the hallway. This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he tried pulling against you.

“W-wait! Hold on, what-“ he started before you shushed him.

You opened a closet door full of cleaning supplies and shoved him inside as he kept protesting. You shushed him every time. You slid into the closet next to him and shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” He practically yelled at this point.

“Shut up!” You whisper yelled at him and grabbed his shoulders. There wasn’t much room in the small closet but this was your best shot at being hidden for a while.

“Listen, I don’t know much about you myself, I don’t even know your name. All I know is that one day, three years ago you were found covered head to toe in third degree burns and had a missing jaw. You went through surgery to fix what they could and for three years you’ve been in a coma here. I don’t know why you specifically are here, it must be something to do with your quirk, because this is a place for kids with powerful quirks that they can’t control so they can get help. This is all I know, the grown ups don’t tell us much. I’m sorry…” you quickly explained, keeping your voice down.

“I…” He tried to process everything. “A coma? Surgery?!”

“Shhh! Not so loud. I know you’re freaked out right now and confused and I wish I could tell you more but I genuinely do not know anything else, but if it makes you feel any better…you weren’t alone. I was tasked to sit by your side basically since you arrived here.” You tried your best to calm him down.

“Really?” He still sounded like a child and you supposed he still was one, mentally he’s still 13 and everything must be so terrifying to learn. You don’t really know why you were trying to comfort him. You don’t like him anymore than the other kids. And you didn’t like them at all. You pitied him, you guessed.

“Yeah…I talked to you almost every day. Look, you’re safe here. As long as you follow the rules and don’t cause too much trouble you’ll do fine.” You sighed.

“No, I…I have to go home.” You felt despair at his words. You knew he was never going home. No one that came here ever went home…not if he could help it.

You were about to explain that to him when the door to the closet opened, blinding you both with the shitty fluorescent lights from the hallway.

“Ah, there you two are. Now, sunny, I know you’re excited that your friend is awake now, but you know why kids aren’t allowed alone together. I’ll take it from here. Please join the others in the activity room.” Mr. Sunny smiled down at you two.

You blushed furiously at the implications of his words and ripped your hands away from the boys shoulders and crossed your arms.

“You know damn well that’s not what was happening.” You muttered as you stomped past him.

“Language, sunny!” Mr. Sunny sing songed.

———————————————————————

It was night time now, all the younger kids were fast asleep, having been put to bed an hour ago, and the older kids were winding down for the night and getting ready for their bed time.

You however, were lingering outside Mr. Sunny’s office. The door was wide open…so it wasn’t like you were eavesdropping, but you were staying out of sight.

You felt like something was wrong. Like something bad was about to happen. Touya, you learned his name was at dinner, seemed adamant that he was going home. You just wanted to be there when the news was broken to him. You’d gotten used to being the therapist all the kids come running to.

“I have to get home!” You heard him plead.

“You can’t do that, sunny!” And there it was….the ball has dropped.

“Why not?” Touya argued.

“You’ll be living here with everyone else now, sunny! This is your new family! I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon!” God, you hated that fucking flower freak. You were told the same thing and you know how much it stings to hear that.

“Wait a minute! I have to get home! My dad…He probably just had work and couldn’t come. I’m sure he’s worried! I did…and said…some terrible things. I need to apologize to Mom and the others…I need Dad to see what I can do.” You could hear the pain in his voice, and yet…he still sounded like a child.

“I’m gonna be a he-“ He got cut off.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that can happen anymore.” You flinched at the voice. It’s him.

“Your burned up body was extremely hard to repair. The missing parts were filled in with regenerative tissue. Your face makes you look like someone different, but even so, you survived.” The voice cracked through the speakers.

“What are you saying? I don’t understand…someone different?” Touya whimpered.

“You can’t use your power like you did before. There was damage to your organs. Your senses, including your sense of pain, has been dulled. Your body is weakened. It will never go back to how it was before.” Damn….you didn’t know it was that bad. You felt pity for the boy.

“We would have liked to receive you in full health, too.” He continued. You could hear Touya’s shaky breathing. “We did our best, but unfortunately, we failed.”

You could hear him trying to hold back his tears. You peeked your head in and saw him bent over, clutching his face.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? You poor thing. But WE might be able to make your flames go back to normal! How about it? Will you try joining our family and learning together with us?” You wanted to punch that asshole. He ruined countless children’s lives. He ruined YOUR life. Who knows how many more of these places he has running.

“Shut up.” Touya spoke. You could hear the anger boiling in his voice. “I don’t want to learn from anyone else. The only one who can teach me is…” he threw the keyboard at the computer screen “my dad!”

“Don’t do that, sunny!” Mr. Sunny intervened, grabbing his shoulder that stupid smile on his face.

“Be quiet!” He yelled as he fought back, activating his quirk. You could feel the heat form the doorway. “Shut up!”

Suddenly, the whole room was ablaze. Touya turned and stopped when he saw you standing there. You stared back at him blankly. He huffed and ran past you down the hallway. You knew you could stop the fire. You knew it would’ve been the right thing to do. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this was your one and only chance at freedom. So you ran after him.

You caught up to him when he tried pushing open a locked door. You grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him towards the front enterance.

You both ran out the front doors as the entire building was quickly engulfed in flames. You let go of his wrist and let him lead the way. You could’ve gone your own way, but you followed him anyway. It’s not like you were dying to go home. As far as you’re concerned, you lost any family you had when your parents gave you up.

You stayed next to him as he slowed down. Soon, he was trudging along, both of you now in the middle of the city. The streets were lit by restaurant lights and the hanging street lights.

“I have…to go home.” He spoke more so to himself. You weren’t even sure he knew you were next to him. Your hands were shoved in your pockets as you looked around. You remember him saying he lived in Musutafu. That was the next city over. Not too far that it was impossible, but it would take a few hours to get there on foot.

He finally snapped out of his trance about an hour in. Most stores and restaurants were starting to close now, leaving only izakaya’s and yatai open. You passed a few with drunk patrons sat around on stools loudly chatting and laughing with each other.

You were surprised you hadn’t seen a single hero yet. In a city like this, you’d think there would be a bunch crawling around. Especially at night. At least you two were being left alone.

“Why are you following me?” He spoke up. He sounded tired. Ironic, considering he slept for three whole years.

“So you don’t die. Besides….I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I wanted to see this home you kept whining about.” You answered with a shrug.

He huffed and it was back to silence for a few minutes. He seemed to be deep in thought again as you two walked the streets.

“I killed that guy didn’t I?” He suddenly spoke up again.

“Probably shouldn’t say something like that out loud. But yeah, most likely. Bastard kinda deserved it though.” You replied.

“The whole place caught fire…oh god I probably killed everyone else…” He started to freak out.

“Nah…probably not everyone. Some of those kids have quirks that could be useful in a fire. They probably saved a bunch of the others. You probably only killed a few of them.” You realized that wasn’t a very helpful thing to say but it was too late.

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?!” He yelled, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You were now both stopped on the sidewalk as he hyperventilated.

You sighed and scratched the back of your neck. “Touya…I never gave a shit about anyone in the damn place. I was never attached to them. Everyone there annoyed me. I wanted to be left alone, but the kids liked me so goddamn much that I was put in charge of them against my will when that freak was busy. They became attached to me while I felt absolutely nothing for them. They were never my family, no matter how hard that idea was pushed. I was given up by my parents because they were terrified of my quirk. I lost all sense of a family when I walked through those doors for the first time. I don’t care if they lived or died. I’m just glad that place is burnt to the ground and I’m out of there. So if anything, I should be thanking you.”

Touya was shocked at your lack of care. He started to notice how dull your eyes were, how tired you looked. Now he was the one that started to pity you.

He let go of your shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and turned to continue walking. You followed a pace behind him silently.

——————————————————————

Hours later, it was the next day. It was dark and cloudy even though it was around noon.

Touya had come to a stop in front of a rather large traditional looking estate. You stood beside him as he stared at the huge double doors that lead to the front yard.

“Jesus…no wonder you were so desperate to get home. If my home was as nice as this I’d have burned the place down myself years ago.” You joked.

“I told you…I’m a Todoroki.” He looked at you confused.

“Am I suppose to know what that means?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

“My father is Endeavour? Number two hero in all of Japan?” He looked bewildered.

“Ah, right…not gonna lie…I thought you were lying about that.” You laughed.

He sighed, exasperated as he looked back at the doors and took a deep breath before swallowing.

He slowly pushed open one of the doors and walked through as you stood by and watched the boy you had been next to for the last three years.

He turned to you when he realized you were still stood outside the property.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

You flinched. “Do you…want me to?” You replied, confused. You thought this would be the end of the ride for you, you’d finally be alone after this.

He nodded. “I’m sure my parents will be able to help you. They would probably let you stay for as long as you want, or help you find a place to stay if you’d prefer that.”

You felt a blush ride to your cheeks. No one ever gave a shit about you like that. You didn’t know how to feel as you felt your heartbeat speed up.

You tsked and glared at the ground as you walked through. “Whatever.” You mumbled.

He smiled softly and closed the door behind you then made his way to the entrance of the house, you following behind him, hands shoved deep in your pockets.

He opened the door and let you in first.

“Mom? Dad? I’m home! I’m sorry for worrying you all but I’m back and I’m okay!” He called into the eerily quiet house. He stepped up from the genkan not bothering to put on any slippers that were near the door. You noticed that there was only two pairs at the front. You remembered him saying he had three siblings and both his parents lived with each other. But if only two people were out…why did no one answer?

You followed behind him as you looked around the spacious and very traditional house. You wished you lived in a house like this.

That’s when you both heard a childlike scream followed by an older male voice cursing and yelling commands.

Touya took off down the hall where the noises came from and you followed close behind. As you got closer you could smell smoke and wood burning and you could feel the intense heat.

He stopped at an open sliding door and stared in. You couldn’t see in from where you were standing, but you could see the flames covering the inside of that room.

Touya was stiff as he stood there, his hands clenched into tight fists. You could see tears falling down his face. Whatever he was seeing…it obviously effected him quite negatively. He silently took off down the hall as he wiped at his face with his sleeve and you stepped forward, the floor underneath your feet still warm from where he stood. You looked in and saw a young boy, probably around eight, hunched over on the floor. Perfectly split red and white hair covered his face. That must be Shoto. Touya told you about how much he resented him as a kid. The huge man standing over Shoto, holding a piece of wood must be Endeavour. Looking at him now…he doesn’t look like a hero.

You slowly went off in the direction Touya went, careful not to make too much noise. You came across an open door and looked in. There stood Touya in a nearly empty room. The most prominent thing in the room was a huge wooden shrine, intricately decorated, that he stood in front of, his hands held up in front of him in prayer. He stared blankly down at a picture frame sat in the middle of the shrine.

You debated walking in or leaving him in peace. You thought it safer to join him incase his dad left the room and saw you. You slowly and silently slid the door closed behind you and stood next to him. You looked at the picture he was staring at and noticed a younger white haired boy in a school outfit. That must’ve been him before the accident. You couldn’t help but think he looked a little cute.

You sighed and matched his pose. Bringing your hands up in front of your face in prayer. You didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

You both left not long after that, climbing out a window in order to not be seen. You let him lead the way, going wherever he felt like.

It was an hour or so by the time you both came across an abandoned building. It looked like an office of some kind, it was also clearly the victim of a villain attack of some kind. You doubt normal robbers would attack an office and make this much mess.

Touya came to a stop in front of some fallen junk and sat down. He hunched over with his arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. You both stayed silent until you heard his stomach groan quite loudly. You chuckled breathily.

“I’ll go get some food. I saw a convenience store a block away. I’ll be back soon.” You spoke softly, not wanting to break the silence too harshly.

———————————————————————

When you got back you noticed he was laying down, an arm laid over his eyes.

“M’ back” you muttered, not sure if he was awake or not. You placed the two plastic bags full of food and drinks onto the nearby table. You noticed a laptop with a charger attached, the cable running off the table and onto the floor where it was plugged into an extension cord that was attached to the wall. He must’ve found it while you were out.

You heard shuffling and looked over at him as he slowly sat up. He was looking down but you could see the tear stains on his face and his bloodshot eyes. You didn’t comment on it.

He slowly shuffled over to you and looked through one of the bags. “How did you get this much stuff?” He asked.

“Stole an old ladies wallet and took the cash before she noticed.” You answered, pulling out a warm steamed sweet potato and handed it to him. You didn’t know what he liked but it was a popular choice so you guessed he wouldn’t mind. You also pulled out a water and handed it to him.

He took both items from you and went to sit down. He pushed down the paper wrapper and took a bite of the sweet potato.

“That’s pretty illegal ya know.” He said with his mouth full.

“So is burning down a school full of kids.” You retorted, a little annoyed due to being hungry. You pulled out a pork bun and bit into it.

He scoffed and you both sat in silence as you ate.

You finished the last of your bun and took a sip of your own water. You sighed. You felt bad for snapping at him, now realizing he was just teasing you.

“Touya-“ you started before being cut off.

“That’s not my name…not anymore.” He said dejectedly.

“Oh…” Now you know what he was really doing at his shrine. Touya is dead…now all that remains is the shell of a boy. “What…uh…What do you want to be called now then?” You moved over to him and sat down next to him.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, crumpling up the wrapper and chucking it across the room.

“Well…whenever you figure it out, lemme know. I wanna be the first one to call you that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at you and smiled softly, a light blush across his face.

——————————————————————

You woke up to the sound of typing and soft cursing.

You stretched your whole body, groaning at the feeling of your vertebrae snapping into place.

Your new friend looked over his shoulder at you. “Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He looked back at the screen.

“Hmm…it’s fine. What time is it?” You yawned as you slowly stood up. Your body stiff from the pile of semi comfortable debris you piled together last night. You lifted your shirt and scratched your side.

“7:26am” he responded after glancing at the tiny clock in the corner of the screen.

You hummed as you walked over to the table and looked through the bags. There was a single small bag of chips left. You weren’t able to get much filling food yesterday and you both ate through everything else, him especially. You knew teenage boys ate like they were starving but damn was he hungry. Although you gave him some slack considering his body was forced to survive off the bare minimum to keep him alive for three fucking years.

You opened the chips and ate one anyway. You were regretting not buying toothbrushes and toothpaste but whatever.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you shoved another chip in your mouth. You tilted the bag towards him in a silent offer.

He took one and answered as he chewed. Normally you’d find that gross but you can’t be bothered to care right now. “Trying to connect to the internet but the connection is shit.”

“Trying to look at baby name sites to find your new name?” You teased.

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye, making you chuckle.

“How long have you been awake?” You ate a few more chips before leaving the rest for him.

“About an hour.” He mumbled as he tried connecting to the internet again.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get some more food. Hopeful something better than just snack food.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head.

“Uh…” He said as he looked up at you, his gaze going to your stomach that showed from your shirt riding up.

“Hm?” You fixed your shirt, not noticing he was staring.

“Your hair…” He trailed off looking at your hair all tussled from sleep. He thought it looked…cute.

You tsked and ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix it. “Better?”

He gave a thumbs up and looked back at the screen.

“Get cup noodles.” He said more like a demand.

“How the fuck are we going to eat noodles?” You questioned.

He lifted his hand and activated his quirk, small orange and red flames dancing on his palm, all with out looking up.

“Ah…right…” You forgot he could do that.

“Don’t steal money from an old lady again!” He called after you, teasingly.

You simply flipped him off as you left, not looking at him.

When you returned, more bags than last time with more than just food this time you saw him still looking at that damn laptop watching something.

You could hear the yelling and brutal sounds coming from the device. You set the bags down on the table.

“What are you watching?” You rounded the table to his side to look. There you could see videos of Endeavour fighting off villains, his flames taking up a majority of the screen.

“Oh…why are you watching that? I would assume he’s the last person you’d want to see right now.” You walked back over to the bags and shuffled through them.

“I’m studying his moves. He never saw what I could do, so I’m going to show him I’m better than his precious favourite. That I can be just as powerful as him.” He growled as he stood back and set his arm on fire.

“Ah. Well you can do that later. Eat first.” You muttered. You pulled out two cup noodles like he requested. You had more for later too.

“Steal more money from an old lady?” He smirked as he grabbed one of the cups.

“No.” You mocked. “…it was a salary man.” You smirked. That got him to let out a loud laugh and shake his head.

You opened your cup noodle and dumped the powder packet in then grabbed one of the water bottles you bought and opened it, pouring some water up to the fill line then handed the bottle to the white haired boy to do the same.

He grabbed yours first and held it with both hands wrapped around it. “Sure you won’t burn the whole thing?” You teased.

“Shut up. I’ve done this before.” He hissed as he concentrated on getting the temperature right. You watched in awe as steam started to steadily rise from the cup.

He put yours down and you placed your wooden disposable chopsticks down on the lid to keep the steam in.

“It’s not boiling but it’s hot enough. You just have to wait a little longer.” He explained as he did the same to his cup.

“Fine by me. I’m just glad to have a hot meal.”

When you both finished your noodles you both had some broth left over. Which made you ask him, “Do you think you can cook eggs with your quirk?”

“What?” He looked at you, puzzled. “I mean…I dunno…I never really tried but…probably. Why?”

You stood up and walked back over to the table and fished around in one of the bags and pulled out a small container of two eggs and walked back over to him and sat back down.

“There’s this hack I learned where you can make a sort of egg soufflé with the remaining broth from cup noodles so you don’t have to dump it out.” You explained as you took an egg out and cracked it into your cup. “You’re supposed to microwave it but we obviously don’t have that option right now.” You whisked the egg up into the broth with your chopsticks.

You traded your cup for his and watched as he repeated the same thing he did to cook the noodles. You could both see the egg starting to cook along the sides and you both exclaimed in joy.

“This way we can get more protein.” You cracked and whisked the remaining egg into his cup.

It took longer but he managed to cook the egg enough to your liking so you switched back and he started on his cup. You had to let yours sit for a while to cool down so you both made small talk.

When you were both finally finished eating, your friend wanted to practice his quirk so you sat near by and watched.

He punched his fist out and orange flames burst around his hand and up his arm. He lift his hand and you watched as the golden flames changed into beautiful blue waves of heat.

“Woah…” you gasped. It made him smirk.

“Cool, huh?” He gloated cockily.

“I’ve never seen anyone have blue flames before. Does it hurt?” You questioned.

“Not as much as before. That guy said my sense of pain has been nullified and I can definitely tell.” He responded as he looked at his arm.

You scoffed at the mention of that asshole.

He turned off his quirk and looked at you. “Who was he by the way? Why did he only speak through a computer?”

“Fuck if I know. He was always communicating through that thing. Never bothered to show up even though he owned and created the damn place.” You seethed. “He was called the House Master. You couldn’t call him anything else, I swear it had to be some kind of ego boost or fetish.”

“He never showed his face?” He asked.

“No. Not while I was there…but I did get a glimpse of him once when he approached my parents about boarding me there.” You picked at your nails.

“You said that it was a place for kids with powerful quirks…what is your quirk? It must be insane if you were asked to be one of the first students.” He realized he never actually asked what your quirk is before.

You stood up and walked towards him and stood a few feet away. You gestured for him to activate his quirk.

He lifted his arm as orange flames burst through once again. You lifted your hand towards his flames and soon they reached towards your hand away from him. You moved your hand around and made the flames dance around in the air. You brought your hand behind you and the flames followed, jumping to your other hand behind your back and following in front, bringing them in front of your face and letting it sizzle out leaving little sparks, revealing his shocked face.

“Woah.” He was in awe.

“It’s called Elemental Manipulation. I can manipulate and maneuver any element I want. There are limitations though. I can use it on any element found on the periodic table, meaning it’s basically unstoppable considering everything in the universe is made up of something. However, I can’t use it on living being like plants, animals or people, and I can only manipulate something if I understand it’s elemental makeup. Water for example is two hydrogen and an oxygen. So I can pull hydrogen and oxygen from the air and combine them to make water, but it takes a lot of energy and time. Fire is a little trickier though since it’s primarily oxygen. I actually can’t create the elements myself, meaning I can’t produce fire like you, cause while oxygen helps fire spread, you still need a heat source and fuel to really start it. It’s easier for me to just move already existing elements than create it. But you can see how dangerous it can be if worked on enough.” You explained.

“Wow…that’s…really awesome.”

You shrugged.

You spent the next few hours watching him train, giving him suggestions every once in a while and making him take breaks if he looked like he was over exerting himself.

The day went by quickly and soon you both found yourself laying next to each other in silence, sometimes chatting about something the other thought of, but you were both content just laying there.

“I think I found a good name.” He broke the silence.

“Oh yeah?” You answered. You were laid on your back, hands folded together and your eyes closed.

“What about Dabi?” He asked, slightly looking for your approval.

You opened your eyes and stared at the dilapidated ceiling. “Dabi…” you tried it out. You smiled and looked over at him. “I like it. Sounds cool and mysterious.”

He smiled back at you.

———————————————————————

For the following years you stayed by his side. You both met Giran and he took you both in for a while. You helped staple his peeling skin and scolded him every time you noticed his scars spreading. You helped dye his hair black. You even helped give him his nose piercings, and you were there when he joined the League of Villains, consequently, joining yourself.

You grew yourself, too. You got better at using your quirk, still not to its full potential, but much easier to handle than when you were younger. You helped fight for Shigaraki’s cause, although you would always keep your entire loyalty to Dabi.

You both found comfort in each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why you agreed to help him when he asked you for a specific favour.

“You ready?” You asked as you stood over the shirtless man, sat on the couch. You softly cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumb.

“I’ve been waiting for this for years. Of course I’m ready.” He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips on the back of it as he made eye contact with you. His eyes still as blue as the day you first saw them.

You smiled and went over to the video camera that was pointed towards him. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers pressed together in front of his face.

“Go.” You whispered.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He looked into the camera through his fingers.

“My name…is Touya Todoroki.”

[misspelledwordswizard]

ok, we see waterbending and bloodbending but what about firebending and lightningbending?

I think the Chain going to be crazy see reader redirects a lightning un middle of the battle.

Thank you so much for the request, I really love writing about this! Mixing fandons might be my weakness… hope you like it <3

The dark sky was barely lit by the moon, which was hidden by the dark, heavy clouds, dumping heavy gusts of rain on the world below. The wind howled loudly, carrying the rain with it and making the experience all the more extreme in itself, it was as if the forces of nature were determined to prevent us from advancing. 

All this chaos was experienced by our group of ten, somewhat distant at the moment, while we still had to deal with the horde of monsters that followed right behind us. Due to the darkness and the heavy rain, we had made a mistake, without seeing the monster camp a little further ahead of us, all we could do was try to create distance to gain some time and think of a decent strategy to deal with them. 

The group of lizalfos seemed more than determined to pursue us, without giving us any room to counterattack. Shit, if only I could firebend now. It was no surprise to the heroes that I had a “special” ability to control and produce fire, the firebending that I was so proud of, and my main form of defense, but it wouldn’t be very effective in heavy rain like now. 

The rain seemed to intensify as we advanced, out of the corner of my eye I could see the team aiming arrows at the monsters, I preferred to stay focused on the path in front of me, but from the sound that echoed I could assume that he had hit at least one. Good. The others were trying their best in this situation, looking for various creative ways to achieve some kind of success. 

I felt useless, incapable, too dependent on firebending. Of course I have some experience in hand-to-hand combat, with arrows or bladed weapons, but I almost never use them, after all, why would I do that when a few body movements were enough for me to fight my enemies? Well, now I understand. In the distance I could hear the sound of thunder echoing in the sky, making me shiver. 

The cold of the rain was starting to affect me, I felt my frozen body tremble and my teeth chatter as I continued to advance. A real nuisance. It was when I turned to see how far we had gotten from the group of monsters that I became careless, tripping over a tree root and hitting the ground without further ado. I acted on instinct, trying to get up as quickly as possible when I saw a particular lizalfo coming towards me, approaching at speed, I felt unbalanced, trying to defend myself without even thinking, as I would do with firebending, I closed my eyes in fear as I did, realizing that it would have no effect, but now it was too late to stop.  

The loud sound of thunder echoed in the sky and at the same moment I felt a tingling electricity pass through my entire body, I felt alive, as if my brain sent a high dose of adrenaline to my body. The sensation was different from anything I had ever experienced, it seemed crazy.  I opened my eyes just in time to see the effects of the movements, seeing the lightning strike the monster that was just a few meters away from me, leaving it stunned. 

Did I do that? 

It wasn’t too hard to associate the action with the lightningbending that I had witnessed only once in my life, a long time ago, but that I never thought I would be able to reproduce. I could feel my heart beating fast, my body heating up as I recovered from my shock. How ironic. 

I blinked a few times before realizing again that I was in a dangerous situation, running again to gain distance, now more confident, but still unsure if I would be able to reproduce what I had done. I noticed some looks of surprise and concern coming my way as I reached the rest of the group, but not everyone seemed to have noticed my little discovery. When I considered myself to be at a safe distance, I tried again, remembering how I felt in that moment of pure panic and adrenaline.   

Before I could realize it, my surroundings were being illuminated by the lightning I produced, redirected to the monsters who were suffering without being able to react due to the high voltage that was passing through, until they turned to dust. I felt my head hurt and my heart raced, maybe this was all a bit too much for me at the moment, but luckily for me, I was not alone. Several arrows came from behind me, hitting the remaining monsters, while some of the heroes took the opportunity to get closer and deliver the final blow with their swords, finishing off the rest of the monsters. 

All tired of the rush and adrenaline, we could finally breathe again. I threw myself on the ground, enjoying the feeling of relief that overcame me while a fit of laughter hit me, making me receive confused looks. Who would have thought, right? I managed to calm myself down while breathing heavily trying to calm myself down, the rain now seemed like a relief to my overheated body. 

— I didn’t know I could do that. – Sky’s voice reached me, making me look at him and smile, as confused as he was. 

— Yeah, I didn’t know either. 

— That was really cool! – Wind exclaimed, throwing himself next to me and making me laugh. The others seemed to agree with the brat, yeah, I thought it was really cool too. 

Everyone took advantage of this moment to relax a little and catch their breath, all very exhausted after a long day and a not-so-fun chase. The sound of thunder now seemed more like a victory song, making me feel, in a way, powerful. But not powerful enough to deal with the freezing rain, apparently, because all it took was a sneeze from me for na uproar to start among the men in the group, something between scolding me for getting caught in the rain and looking for a dry and safe place to spend the night, as quickly as possible. 

[lesbiansforboromir]

Here's a more compact review of the War of the Rohirrim film for anyone interested! SPOILERS AHEAD!!

Positives;

The backgrounds were all very beautifully painted and the lighting really elevated the character design and smoothed over the janky animation. Where other aspects of the film fall off, often the background artistry and lighting over all of it still manages to convey a very dramatic and immersive moment to the viewer. It's probably the best part of the film.

The part where Helm's ice-ghost phase is teased was really cool and atmospheric and I got a little thrill of what I'd kind of always been wanting from this film.

Frealaf was pretty lovely (what little we got of him) and I appreciated that his darker skin tone was implicitely associated with his Gondorian heritage. I THINK I appreciate the idea that Frealaf's father was Gondorian, though I wish it had been better utilised.

I also really liked the moment where Helm is about to fight Freca and he gives his crown, signet ring and mantle over to Frealaf in this like... symbolic giving up of his Kingship in this moment where his actions are about to make him unworthy of it.

I appreciated Olwyn existing as an older female character in a purely action based roll.

Helm's voice actor and design were pretty cool, I came around to enjoying how much effort they put into making him extremely imposing.

Hama being a twink who was born to be a bard but forced to be a heroic second prince was a nice touch.

General Targg of Dunland might have been my favourite character, inspite of the fact that I am really curious to know where this organised military of Dunland is for him to reach the rank of 'General' in.

Negatives;

Gurl the racism. See here for more details.

The overall narrative seems to me direly lacking in like... basis. I am lead to believe Hera's journey is about her reclaiming her right to choose her own life for herself. But she is never actually pressured into any choice, nor does it appear that her father ever restricted her freedom in any way. So I don't really see where her choices were actually removed to such a degree. If her desire is to see her choices respected by the men in her life, well that never happens for either Helm nor Wulf, who force her to let them die or to kill them, respectively. It feels like in their rush to censor any negative aspects of Helm they kind of removed the reason Hera is frustrated in the first place, he cant be TOO much of a misogynist etc etc.

This is twisted up within 'gurl the racism' but Wulf's manner and presentation make me FEEL like he is a villain we are supposed to mildly feel for? We see him as a child, we see him struggle with what he's doing, we see his clear desperation and despair and hear him talk about loneliness and suffering... but at the end of the day in the way that it is presented Wulf is fundamentally foul and deluding himself and all his problems appear to be of his own making. In general it is extremely uncomfortable for the 'obsessive stalker' villain to also every now and then say 'I am devastated because of how my dunlending blood has been prejudiced against all my life by your family and the wider rohir society' like... by only him mentioning it but it never being actually acknowledged by anyone else it just comes across so shallow and unsettling.

This is a review from my book-biased perspective so understand it within that lense but still gurl... the lore. What the hell do you mean the eagles speak a language only a wizard can understand? No they can just speak! What do you mean there is A watcher in the water in some undisclosed lake in Rohan somewhere? There is one Watcher and it's name is very specific to the doomed Moria expedition! At least give this new squid fellow a rohir name. Speaking of!!

IS IT SO HARD TO NAME ROHIR CHARACTERS IN..... ROHIRRIC?? OLD ENGLISH IS RIGHT THERE... HERA HAS NO MEANING... THERE ARE SO MANY COOL HISTORICAL ANGLO SAXON PRINCESSES YOU COULD CHOOSE FROM...

Included in the 'gurl, the lore' segment but in need of it's own post so I will try to be brief; (Theoden voice) where was Gondor... when a herd of Mumakil were marched by Haradrim mercenaries across the Anduin, up through the Pelennor, across Calenadhon and over Rohan's southern border... did they sneak by... were they stealth Mumakil, did they have elven cloaks too.

But also Where Was Gondor just in general. Like to the detriment of the actual narrative, opening up plot holes that didn't even need to be there, the fact that Gondor is ALSO supposed to be at war right now is completely ignored and discarded.

THE BATTLE OF EDORAS... TF ARE YOU ALL DOING! Like I know it is kind of hypocritical of me to request sensible war tactics when we're adapting Tolkien, he did not give a good example, but like... where were the horse archers, why are you charging down an infantry-only army, why even be on a horse if you aren't going to use greater mobility to your advantage, this isn't a siege, this is YOUR territory this is an open field!! Come on! AND ANOTHER THING, did we really have to make the victory of the Dunlendings over Edoras so disconnected from their own effort? Like betrayal is fine, but this was also a well supplied and competant force, and that was a major part of their victory. These were matched combatants! Just kind of another way in which the dunlendings were robbed of any cohesive motive, narrative or skill.

To my admittedly untrained eye... the animation sucks? Like it's clunky and janky and you can see the frames transitioning between each other, the movements often feel awkward and a lot of the drawings are just bad! The Eagles are SO stiff, as are the horses which seems like a cardinal sin in the Horse Lord Film. And then I couple that with the multiple completely unnecessary spinning camera shots Hera gets which are annoying, superfluous and a bizarre thing to spend time on when the rest of the film needs so much more care and attention. In general the GULF of difference between how beautiful the backgrounds are vs how bland the character art is is kind of jarring.

Hera's design.... I hate it. Look I know it's anime but DID Hera have to have thigh high boots... did she really... Why is she so pale if she's supposedly riding sleeveless across the vast countryside everyday? Can a single supposedly feminist film about a 'wild' female protagonist let that woman be like... dirty, or not so agonisingly thin, or give her messy or god forbid short hair. At one point when she is grabbed by a troll and hung in the air they linger uncomfortably long on her ass which her costume design is specifically designed to allow for maximum viewing detail.

The designs of the Dunlendings, Haradrim and especially the Mumakil are all so grim. Like I liked Freca's design to a degree, it was more potent with symbolism and patterning and such, but the rest of it is just SO FUCKIN- well they're ugly! and therefore evil! Do you get it? The ugly grey animalistic people are evil! The Mumakil have literal red snake eyes just so you know they're 'evil animals'. I can't take it anymore, at one point the guy who Eomer throws a spear at in the trilogy just... turns up, like it's literally just him down to the facepaint. And speaking of...

SHUT UP ABOUT THE PJ TRILOGY, SHUT UP AB- besties this film's intro plays alongside the ring theme... THE RING MUSICAL THEME!!!!?? Lines from the films are reused so often and so WILDLY outside of their actual context and meaning that it makes me flinch.

There is a plump little fellow called Leif who is the royal Page I think and everytime someone called Freca fat in such a vitriolic way I was like wow... I mean Leif is right there guys!

Overall a 4/10 from me, it is a watcheable but shallow film that I suspect was more of a cynical attempt by Warner Bros to keep their death grip on the rights to the books, since I think they would have expired if they didn't do something with them soon.

[scarletwinterxx]

don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year - hong joshua imagine

helloooo ~ ngl i was kicking my feet all giggly while writing this HAHA let's see where this one goes, let me know if i should do a part 2🤭

and happy holidays!!!🎄

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You walk into the office, the sound of your heels muffled by the carpeted floors. The usual hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by the clacking of keyboards and the occasional laughter. As you make your way to your desk in the HR department, you notice a group of your colleagues near the coffee machine. They're giggling, and their glances dart between you and the IT team’s corner. You already know what they're whispering about.

Joshua Hong.

The soft-spoken guy from IT who seems to have half the office swooning over him.

Including you, though you'd never admit it outright. Well, except maybe to Nayeon and Irene, your closest friends, but they don’t count.

Joshua is the kind of guy who’s always polite, always smiling. Whenever someone teases him about the two of you—and they do it often—he just shakes his head with that gentle smile, not saying much.

“She’s great, but we’re just colleagues,” you once overheard him say when Jeonghan Yoon, his closest friend, had nudged him about you. The words had stung more than you'd like to admit.

"You okay?" Nayeon’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She’s perched on the edge of your desk, a knowing smile on her face. Irene’s just behind her, holding two coffee cups��one for herself and one for you.

"Fine," you reply, taking the cup Irene offers.

"They’re at it again," Nayeon says, jerking her head toward the gossipers.

"Let them have their fun," you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant. But the truth is, your stomach flips every time Joshua’s name is brought up in connection to yours.

The day passes in its usual rhythm, and you try to focus on your work. But it’s hard not to glance toward the IT corner where Joshua is discussing something with Seungcheol Choi, your cousin and, unfortunately, another enthusiastic supporter of the “You and Joshua” ship.

When Joshua looks up and meets your eyes, you quickly turn back to your screen, pretending to be engrossed in an email.

The company holiday dinner is lively, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint buzz of karaoke in the background.

You’re seated between Irene and Seungcheol, who’s had a little too much to drink and is currently attempting to convince Joshua to sing.

"Come on, man. One song! For morale!” Seungcheol insists, slinging an arm around Joshua’s shoulders. Joshua laughs, shaking his head.

"Maybe next time," he says, his tone as gentle as ever. His eyes briefly meet yours from across the table, and you quickly look away, sipping your drink to hide your flustered expression.

As the night winds down, you glance at your phone and realize it’s getting late. Irene and Nayeon left earlier and you’re left wondering how you’re going to get home. The buses have stopped running, and the idea of calling for a cab makes you wince at the cost.

You're standing on the side, scrolling through your phone thinking of options when you feel a presence beside you

"You okay?" Joshua’s voice interrupts your thoughts

You look up to see him standing by your side, his jacket draped over his arm. Noticing this, you also became extra aware of the cold breeze. Never being the one to stand cold weather, you can't help but shiver.

Joshua notices this, he stands infront of you blocking the direction where the wind was blowing from so you won't feel as cold.

"Yeah, I…" you hesitate. "I’m just figuring out how to get home."

He frowns slightly. "No ride?"

You shake your head.

"I can take you," he offers, his voice calm but firm. "It’s on my way."

"Oh, no, you don’t have to—"

"I want to," he says, cutting you off with that same gentle smile.

You contemplate for a second before agreeing. It's late and it's cold, there's no other better option now, surely you can manage a few minutes alone with him.

The ride is quiet at first. The city lights blur past the windows, and you fidget with the strap of your bag, unsure of what to say. Joshua seems relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift.

"You don’t have to be nervous," he says suddenly, glancing at you. "I don’t bite."

You laugh, the sound a little more nervous than you’d like. "I’m not nervous."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. Instead, he switches on the radio, and a soft, familiar melody fills the car. You hum along absentmindedly, and he glances at you with a smile.

"You have a good voice," he says.

"Hardly," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. "But thanks."

A comfortable silence falls between you, and for the first time that night, you feel yourself relaxing. When he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, he puts the car in park but doesn’t immediately reach for the door handle.

"Thanks for the ride," you say, your hand hovering over the door.

"Anytime," he replies, his voice soft. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, "You know, people tease me about you a lot."

Your heart stops. "Yeah, I… I’ve noticed."

"I don’t usually react because… well, it’s private. And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable."

You blink, unsure of where he’s going with this. "What do you mean?"

He looks at you then, his gaze steady but warm. "I mean, I do like you. A lot more than a colleague should. But I didn’t want to assume you felt the same way."

Your breath catches. For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your mind racing to process his words.

"I…" you start, but your voice falters.

He smiles, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You don’t have to say anything now. I just thought you should know."

The warmth of his hand lingers long after he pulls back. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you. For telling me."

He grins, that boyish, gentle grin that made you fall for him in the first place. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Joshua."

As you step out of the car and make your way to your apartment, your heart feels lighter than it has in months. Maybe, just maybe, the office gossipers were onto something after all.

[olailamajnoon]

Steve, Part 2

Previous fic

Steve walked into the bathroom of the warehouse where Batman had stashed him. Stupid flightless birds, he muttered, thinking of Oswald Cobblepot and his giant drum belly. Thanks to you, I don't have place to hang my underwear. The lack of fucking clotheshooks inside the cold-ass bathroom annoyed him. Who wants to put their underwear on the floor while showering? And there was no bathtub. Fucking Penguin, and fucking Regina.

Regina, with her drop-down-dead beautiful eyes, and her soft gurgly voice. Her lips, the way they kissed him, like he was wanted and loved.

She had wanted a squirrel fur coat, and had made it the price of admission, and Steve, like a total chump, had taken the bait.

"Takeout!" someone called from the door. Steve stepped out of the shower hurriedly and put on his robe and tighty-whities. "Coming!" he called, hoping the voice belonged to the blue one, and not the red one who liked to poke fun at his—everything, really.

He breathed in. Why the fuck was he nervous? These guys had never hurt him. These guys were constitutionally incapable of hurting him. They treated him like a vulnerable bunny. Even the big strong one with the guns.

He walked into the warehouse's main room. (He was calling it the main room because he didn't know what else to call it. It was large and white and square, and main.) The lighting was dim and harsh at the same time, and the concrete walls and floor were hard and smelled old.

There were like nine bats. There were definitely nine. Steve could count. He realized what he must look like, in his tattered bathrobe.

"Nice robe, Steve," said Red Hood. Steve stuck his tongue out.

Batman turned around, and stared at Steve. He didn't feel as self-conscious as he probably should have.

"Do you need fresh clothes," said Batman. He had some kind of gadget in his hands.

So Batman had definitely noticed.

Steve tried to smile and act jolly, but the truth was the presence of nine bats had unnerved him. He knew one thing about the Batfamily—they usually operated in twos or threes. Unless...there was a Gotham-wide operation, which could only mean one thing. A disaster. A cataclysm of epic proportions.

"What's going on? Can I help?" he asked, his smile too wide, his face way too happy.

"No," said Red Hood and Red Robin together, and then frowned at each other.

"Help how?" asked Nightwing. "You've already given us all the information on Penguin you could. Thanks to you, we took down his waterfront businesses. All of them."

Steve glowed at this praise. Then he collected his face, and composure. "I could go places you people can't. Perp habitats. Henchmen bars. Hellholes. I can be of use to you."

"Why," said Batman.

"Why?" Steve was confused. Also the heater was off, and he was standing in the middle of a cold warehouse trembling, but he didn't want Batman to see and think he was afraid or some shit. He wondered how soon he could get into his clothes. The bats seemed to be wearing insulated suits, the bastards.

"Why do you want to be of use," Batman said, as if repeating himself.

"I dunno," said Steve, shrugging. He breathed out. "Maybe cause you gave me another chance."

Batman looked at him steadily, not saying anything. Just looking with his arms crossed.

"Everyone deserves another chance," said Orphan gently.

"Yeah, well. It's whatever, you know," said Steve, embarrassed there were suddenly tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cry big man-tears in front of Batman.

"Fine," said Batman. "You might be of use."

"Really?"

"Yes. If you prove reliable, there may be a place for you. Keep out of the line of sight, and wear a mask."

Wait.

Holy fuck.

A mask?

"Yessir," said Steve. "Yes, yes sir."

"You will also—" Batman seemed to bore into Steve's eyes, "—not ask any questions that are not relevant to you, or try to ascertain our identities in any way."

"Uh—okay."

"Trust is built, Steve. My trust is limitless, once I extend it to someone, but it takes time to create."

Steve sighed happily. Batman was trying to trust him. He tried to remember the last time anyone had tried to trust him, really trust him. "I won't let you down, sir," he said.

"I hope you won't," said Batman, rather softly.

Steve turned around to go to his room to get dressed, but then he turned around. "Just one thing."

Batman cocked his head.

"I totally get it. The secret identities and all. But—" he swallowed. "I have no one to tell. I'm isolated from my family and friends, I can't ever return to them. I'm completely cut-off. So. You know. Even if I ever knew. Your secrets are safe with me."

"We'll see," said Batman shortly. "For now, you will operate under me. I'll see what can be done, about...other things."

He thinks I'm lonely, Steve realized. He thinks I'm complaining. But he doesn’t know that for the first time in my life, I don’t have to watch my back. I don’t have to keep up appearances. I’m totally fucking alone...

...and somehow, I’m fucking okay.

[rocknrolldecadence]

Hiii, okay so, i've read some of your fics and i really like how you write things, so i wanted to request something fluffy with Axl. Like the reader is really stressed and worn out, so Axl is there for her and in general very sweet with her? I just want you to include lots of hand holding, hugs and kisses (maybe a massage too if you can throw it in somewhere). You don't have to do it if you don't want to, thank you in advance!

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

i’ve got you

you’re stressed, and axl knows what to do to cheer you up

warnings: alcohol and drunkenness

a/n: tysm!!! sorry this took so long, i hope you like it 😛

life had been hitting you hard recently. real hard. it seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t ease the stress you felt. everyday was a struggle, and oftentimes you wondered if you’d even get through a day. with everything going on in your life, it felt like you’d never get relief.

there was one thing you found solace in, though. well… one person. your boyfriend, axl. you’d think since he’s the lead singer of the band many proclaimed to be ‘the next big thing’ in the world of rock n roll, he wouldn’t be very loving or attentive. but he was the complete opposite. axl was the most kind, considerate man you knew. sure, that certainly wasn’t the image he kept up in his music or for the media, but he truly was the best person you knew. so when you went round to his place one day, he could tell something was up.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asked you as you sat down together on his sofa. it was old, and a spring loudly creaked as you sat, but you didn’t mind. there was already a glass of wine waiting for you, the decanter placed like a centrepiece between your glass and axl’s. you sighed and sipped on your drink, hesitant to answer. you felt the liquid run down your throat, warming you up from the inside out. silently, you wondered how he was able to afford it. it seemed very fancy. you met your boyfriend’s eyes and began to speak, but cut yourself off.

“you can tell me.” he encouraged, his soft tone of voice putting you at ease.

“just… life, i guess? its so tough. i feel like there’s so many things just weighing me down every day. no matter what i do, i feel so stressed. it’s like there’s no remedy for it. i don’t know what to do.” you confessed. you knew you were safe to tell axl anything. that was what you liked about him - he always made you feel valued and not like you were crazy.

axl listened intently as you vented to him. when you were done, he grabbed you softly and pulled you into a hug, pressing a light kiss on your cheek. the combined smell of tobacco and wine putting you at ease. you let yourself sink into him, and slowly but surely, you began to cry. tears dripped down your face and were absorbed into axl’s shirt. he held you tighter, letting you get your emotions out.

“i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he reassured you as you cried. you stayed like that for a while with him, just holding onto eachother wordlessly. it felt like the world had stopped. you didn’t know how long you ended up sitting on that dingy sofa together, but it was insanely comforting. soon you started to feel better. but then axl had an idea.

“how about we go get some drinks?”

“oh, axl, i don’t kno-”

“think about it. we’ll walk down, sit and have a few, and then we can come back here and sleep. does that not sound good to you?” he said to you. you tossed the idea around in your head before eventually agreeing. why not? it’d be fun.

you got yourself ready with the few supplies you always left at axl’s place. once you were ready, you left with him and started to walk to the nearest bar to his place. subtly, he linked your hand with his, intertwining your fingers together. it made you blush. you and axl had been together for a long time now, but whenever he did small things like that, it still had you reacting like you did at the start of your relationship.

it was a short enough walk to the bar. you sat down on a stool beside axl. it wasn’t very busy, so you got served right away. the bartender took your orders and you both got them quickly. as you sipped away at your drink, you and your boyfriend quietly chatted. after a while he asked, “how you feeling now?”

“i’m okay,” you answered, “feeling better than before, anyway.”

“i’m glad. i hate seeing you so upset, darling.”

you smiled and the two of you fell back into what you were talking about before. as the hours passed, the bar filled up more and more, until you could barely hear what axl was saying to you. so, when you finished your drinks, you paid and left. your tipsiness had you stumbling slightly as you walked back. axl reached out his arm and you leant on him. you giggled at the close contact. he was warm. comforting. and you wanted to tell him so.

“hey, axl.” you said suddenly, stopping under a street lamp.

he turned to look at you and stopped too. “yeah?”

“thanks for tonight. you always know what to do to make me feel better. love you.”

he smiled. “i love you too, baby.”

and with that, he grabbed you and kissed you, disregarding the cars that sped past on the road beside you. you kissed him back, leaning into his embrace.

[n0vazsq]

Glimpse of us | AL20 x Reader

pairing . . . arvid lindblad x ex!reader

summary . . . No matter how much time passed, how many thoughts he had, Arvid's mind always went back to you

request . . . yes!!

word count . . . 1.1k+

warnings . . . angst!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . oh my god

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The world around him blurred as Arvid sat quietly in his hotel room, the sound of rain tapping against the window the only noise in the space.

He stared blankly at the empty coffee cup in his hands, but his mind wasn’t there. It was somewhere else entirely; with you.

It always came back to you.

He could still see you so clearly, standing on the pit wall during his race weekends, wearing one of his oversized jackets with the team’s logo. You weren’t even a part of his team, but you always found your way to him, no matter how chaotic things got.

He smiled bitterly at the memory of how your eyes would light up when you saw him, the way you’d always ask him if he was nervous even though you already knew the answer.

"It’s okay to be nervous, you know," you’d said once, your voice soft as you leaned against the wall beside him. "It just means you care about what you’re doing."

And he’d believed you, because how could he not? When you said it, everything felt easier. Safer.

But now, there was no one beside him to tell him that, no one to chase the nerves away. And it was his fault. He’d let you slip through his fingers like sand, thinking you’d always be there.

Arvid closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was back at the street of your family's house. It had been late, too late for you to be out on your own, but you’d called him, your voice shaking through the phone.

"I…I need you to pick me up," you’d said, barely above a whisper.

He’d flown out the door, barely remembering to grab his keys. When he found you, your eyes were red, your lips trembling as you stood beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the street lamps. Without a word, you’d let him pull you into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

He didn’t ask what had happened, and you didn’t offer to tell him. He just held you, letting the silence speak for both of you.

That night, he’d driven you home, his hand resting on yours the entire ride. He’d looked at you as you sat in the passenger seat, your head resting against the window, and he’d sworn to himself that he’d always protect you. That no matter what, you’d never feel that kind of pain again.

But now, here he was, the one who’d caused it.

The rain outside grew heavier, and Arvid stood, unable to sit still anymore. He paced the room, his mind a whirlwind of memories and regrets.

He thought about the time you’d dragged him to that stupid carnival you loved so much. He hated roller coasters, but he’d gone on every single one because you wanted him to. You’d laughed so hard when he screamed on the drops, clutching his arm and calling him dramatic.

"You’re such a baby," you’d teased, your smile so wide it made his heart ache even then.

He’d rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but grin. "You’re lucky I like you," he��d shot back, his voice light.

Looking back, he wondered if you knew even then. If you’d noticed the way his gaze lingered on you a little too long or how he always seemed to find excuses to touch you; a hand on your back, brushing your hair out of your face.

Maybe you knew. Maybe that’s why you left.

Arvid ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him. He was so angry, at himself, at the world, at the way he’d let everything fall apart.

He thought about how you used to calm him down, your hand on his shoulder as you whispered reassurances.

"Breathe, Arvid," you’d say, your voice like a balm to his frayed nerves. "You’ve got this."

But now, all he had was the echo of your words, bouncing around in the empty space you’d left behind.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The lyrics to a song played faintly in the back of his mind, ones he’d listened to far too many times lately:

Sometimes I look in her eyes, and that’s where I find a glimpse of us

He thought about the person who’d come into his life recently; kind, sweet, and everything he should want. But every time he looked at her, all he could see was you.

He hated himself for it, for how unfair it was to her, for how unfair it was to you. But he couldn’t stop.

The memory of the last time he saw you hit him like a punch to the gut. You’d been standing in the doorway, your arms crossed as you looked at him with a mix of sadness and resolve.

"I can’t do this anymore, Arvid," you’d said, your voice breaking just enough for him to hear it. "I can’t keep being the one who’s always waiting for you to figure things out."

He’d opened his mouth to argue, to beg you to stay, but the words never came. He didn’t know what to say.

And so, you’d walked away, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

The rain had slowed by the time Arvid finally stopped pacing. He stood by the window, staring out at the empty streets below.

He knew he couldn’t change the past, couldn’t undo the mistakes he’d made. But God, how he wished he could.

Because sometimes, in the quiet moments like this, he still looked for you. In the way the light hit the pavement, in the sound of a laugh that wasn’t yours, in the way the world seemed a little less vibrant without you in it.

And he hated himself for it, for still hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were out there somewhere, looking for him too.

"Maybe you'll start slipping slowly and find me again," he thought, the words a plea, a prayer, a hint of regret and despair lacing them.

Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how hard he tried to move on, there would always be a part of him that was waiting.

For you.

[rei-ismyname]

The deification of Jean Grey

When a 16 year old Jean Grey was bought to the present by Hank McIrresponsible, she was immediately confronted with the post-death canonisation the X-Men greater social circle had saddled her with. Big feelings and bigger expectations.

The worst of it was from people who'd never even met her, but those closest to her was no less fraught. Adult Scott was certainly affected by her presence, but he behaved the most normal about it (cough, Logan.)

This is a really cute conversation, clearly something Jean needs. Not sure I agree that Jean never had a chance. She made her choices as a hero but there's plenty that *could* have gone differently. Besides, she's already come back to life at least once and travelled through time a bunch. You can't keep Jean Grey down for long. I'd expect Scott to say something like that, though he seems especially pensive at this point. I guess it's understandable, as time travel is a headfuck. It's cute that he's jealous of his younger self and that he admits it.

Scott's empathy for Hank here is really sweet, especially considering the lengths Hank went through to hurt him (intentionally or not.) The very presence of Jean should be reminding people of the culpability of a Phoenix host. Jean is safely dead and can be put on a pedestal, whereas Scott receives nothing but venom. I'm sure Chuck's death is a big factor, but the man tried very hard to die by Dark Phoenix Jean, too. It's easy to overlook the flaws of the dead, and in many ways Jean and Xavier both get canonised as mutant saints. Neither deserve it, for different reasons.

Oh boy, Jean's actions here are difficult to discuss appropriately. She's lonely and scared, she's just woken up from a nightmare, and the person she's closest to is there for her - all grown up. I doubt this is intended to be sexual, my read on it is Jean reaching for platonic intimacy. It's definitely rooted in the love Scott and Jean have for each other, something their awkward 16 year old selves haven't managed to navigate. 'The man I hoped you'd be' is loaded as hell, but it is very human. None of us have ever met our time-displaced selves or loves, and it's very understandable to view them as the same person, except not/better.

I'm not going to credit Scott for not learning into Jean's confusion and need for comfort (because it's just the right thing to do) but I do think he understands and he definitely handled it appropriately. Setting firm boundaries and pivoting the focus to the kind of support Jean needs is considerate and responsible.

Kitty's stance and pseudo-threat here is difficult to parse. She says he handled it well, luckily for him, implying that she was listening the whole time but was also wary of him not handling it well? It's hard to see this as anything other than Kitty thinking they might fuck. I'm not sure they do understand each other, because Kitty didn't listen to him, she just banned him from being in her room alone. Not an unreasonable policy to have, but it doesn't give Scott a lot of credit. As they both leave, Jean cries which seems like a failure of duty of care. Feels like there's more going on here. 'But if the genders were reversed' whataboutery is usually bad faith nonsense, but there is an actual example here. If Kitty heard young Bobby crying alone or screaming in the middle of the night I'm pretty sure she'd check in on him. That she's dated his adult counterpart changes nothing. Adult! Scott and Teen! Jean could communicate telepathically any time they wished, so idk. Maybe just the writers covering their bases and overcorrecting.

Then there's Emma and the Cuckoos. While Emma is the best person to train and teach Teen Jean, she does it in a very messed up way. Jean is so obviously right when she identifies that Emma has issues. I'm not fond of this plot point, or at least how it's written - the whole 'girls are bitchy and jealous' regressive idea put centre stage. This psychic duel fails the Bechdel Test and makes all the adults look super irresponsible for allowing it to happen.

Keep in mind Emma is bombarding a 16 year old with sexual images. Jean IS a saint for putting up with this shit and not melting her brain. Telepathy isn't real, but intrusive thoughts are - and I don't think it's a stretch to say targeted sexualised intrusive thoughts is deliberately traumatizing a teenager. I definitely think this could have been written better. Emma having unresolved Jean Grey issues is to be expected, but dealing with it like this and everyone being okay with it is difficult to believe.

Then again, it seems nobody is immune to the deification of Jean Grey, not even the writers. They all know her as the most powerful telepath so obviously teenage Jean can deal with whatever you throw at her. Kitty and Scott should know better, and Emma has plenty of other ways to train Jean. Yes, she's the great Jean Grey, but she's also a 16 year old who's not coping all that well. I'm glad that Teen Jean and Emma became friends not long after this, but it says a lot that the dude writing it couldn't figure out a way to explain it on the page. There was an opportunity here to show women building a friendship off their commonalities, but instead it's something Jean has to overcome with psychic power not emotional strength - and the adults looking after her don't look very responsible.

[thearcherbrothersx]

Declan detected the shift in Cora's demeanour, in her mood, almost instantaneously, but he let the scene play out, let Marcus have his little exchange. One Declan was quite certain was very intentional and not for Cora's benefit. Not for Declan's either, really. Though he was spared the large majority of his brother's games, he sometimes became collateral damage. What Marcus' specific objective was, he didn't know exactly, though he was sure it wasn't as straightforward as it would be with just about anyone else. Later, he'd get it out of him.

Thankfully, his girl seemed to release some of the tension he'd noticed as soon as his fingers touched her. Leaning down a little to help her reach his jaw, he granted her a small smile. "I'll be with you as soon as possible, angel," he told her then, his full attention on her for a moment, like they were the only two people in the room, before he redirected it to his brother.

Marcus watched the proceedings quietly. As much as an asshole he was, he would never really get between Declan and someone he cared about in whatever capacity he managed that. It was rare enough as it were for his brother to get involved like this. So Marcus held his tongue, even releasing his focus form Cora to look at his watch.

The twang of her accent thickened, causing a broadening of Marcus' smile, dark eyes dancing with something between amusement and fascination. If she wanted to turn his words into something they weren't, who was he to say she couldn't? Clearly, he'd done something to inspire her ire. So the sarcastic little wave earned more of a reaction from Declan than Marcus, the older male clearing his throat in gentle admonishment. But it stopped there; he didn't say anything, really. He let the set of his features as he looked at her speak for him: She would behave herself in his presence, with or without guests.

When Cora left the room, Marcus chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at his brother as they moved towards the kitchen. Given the nature of the conversation, he didn't stop to make sure Cora was out of earshot before he spoke. "Don't think your new plaything likes me very much," he teased, clearly none too bothered. Declan quirked a brow. "She wanted to. You chose to make it difficult." As he spoke, he gave Marcus the kind of look he reserved for his younger brother. In response, Marcus delivered a look of faux innocence, his tone full of exaggerated hurt. "What? I was being perfectly civil." The rest of the conversation took place behind closed doors as the two males closed off the service kitchen.

***

It took twenty minutes for Declan to make his way into his bedroom, stopping in the doorway to take in the look of Cora in his bed like this, all comfortable and curled up in one of his shirts. "You don't look like the wait has been too hard on you," he observed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. "Hungry?" He then asked. "I gave the cook the night off, since I was planning on spending it out of the house, but I can have something delivered."

Cora simply gave a hum of acknowledgement and a nod at the news that Marcus was adopted. It wasn't often that anyone else could ever catch her attention when she was with Declan, but at the moment her attention was drawn to his brother. She was careful of her face, not narrowing her eyes to study him as she typically would, instead just watched him, watched how he looked at her. Like he knew her. She couldn't make sense of it, but when he looked at her, it was with knowledge, not curiosity. She wasn't entirely sure she cared for it. 

So she became another version of herself, more reserved, just giving Marcus a grin as he wished her luck. She also didn't particularly care for being on the outside of what felt like an inside joke at her expense. Declan's hand landed against her back, and Cora felt it again - the relief she felt in his presence. She'd entirely forgotten about dinner, in all honesty, hadn't eaten at all that day - she'd been far too nervous, and then the small space of Goldie's bathroom had become something like a cult classic "getting ready" montage. So, naturally, as soon as he mentioned food, her stomach rumbled, thankfully not loud enough for anyone to hear, but for her to feel without mistake. 

"Y'all have fun." She spoke softly, more to Declan than both of them, leaning up on her toes to kiss him gently along his jawline. "I'll be waitin' for ya." She couldn't tell what Marcus's deal was, couldn't decide if he was a friend or something else, and tried to remind herself not to judge the situation until she had more of a reason to. What was the actual chance she'd see him again? The compartment Declan kept her in was so far removed from all the others that this seemed like a fluke. 

So her attention went to the younger brother, giving Marcus a small smile, a little wave, that Kentucky lilt unmistakable as she drawled, "Oh, I'm sure I'll see ya real soon." She could bullshit with a bullshitter, after all. "So nice to meet ya." And then she was off on her own adventure. This was another first - Declan had never left her alone to her own devices in his home. She had a general idea of her 'safe zones', as she thought of them, and did as she was told. 

It was strange being in his room without him, the quiet almost unsettling, Cora humming softly to herself to cut against her nerves. She felt like a kid hunting out Christmas gifts as she ventured to his closet. Her first objective was to find a free hanger, slipping out of her dress, hanging it up. She spent far too long, selecting a shirt to wear. There were factors to consider - function and form. Ultimately, she went with a comfortable choice, picking out a shirt that looked and felt well loved compared to the others, big enough that it almost swallowed her. 

There was a temptation to snoop, to learn what she could about him, but then a feeling of dishonesty grated against her and she just couldn't. So instead, Cora ambled toward his bed, laying across the duvet, pulling her phone out of her bag, content to text Goldie and scroll Instagram until he arrived. 

[bookshelfdreams]

hey do y'all ever think about the fact that Charles probably has told Edwin about being beaten as a child at some point during their 34 years of friendship? And that Edwin likely never found it remarkable enough to ask further questions because back when he was alive, beating children was completely normal

[wade-a-minute]

Deadpool wearing/being depicted as wearing women's clothes