#mildly sentimental rambles

[angeart]

i did it :3 an anniversary update of hmtb (chapter 51)

it's been a year!!!

i had no idea my silly little fic would get this far. it's insane and mindboggling (in a /pos way), especially to know that people still enjoy the story after all this time. that you guys want me to share this with you and get excited for new chapters. (it makes me so so so happy!!)

and gosh, i wish i could make a more proper and coherent post about this but i'm unwell today xjnbjkn so it's hard to think and word things but. the fact that this fic is what let me enter the fandom properly? i think i'd just stay quiet and maybe read some fics and not interact with anyone ever, if it wasn't for hmtb. and then those interactions led to me properly getting on tumblr and making this side blog and getting (back) into drawing and stuff!

that's so wild. it started with such a small little thing - just an idea, a whim, a little bit of self-indulgent bravery - and yet it feels so significant. like it changed my life so much. (enriched it!!) (i'm now here you guys can't get rid of me /hj)

but it's more than those things. it's... it let me meet and talk to people who love the same things, and i was able to make some friends who are now very dear and important to me. and i wouldn't change it for the world. (i love you guys <3)

it's not a journey i expected when i decided on a whim to write a hermitcraft fanfic. but man, am i glad i did post that first chapter, one year ago.

thank you all for reading <3

[lunarhoneybunny]

sighs. okay tmi posting sorry guys

[ddollfface]

𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝙆𝙞𝙮𝙤𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙪 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 (𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1.)

Warnings; reader is a girl, yandere behaviors, misogyny, groping, letters/stalking, Kiyosumi is just an asshole, obsessive thoughts/idealizations, ngl this is a little rushed, bad writing, and me rambling some more :) If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Heyy, this is part two for the Kiyosumi headcanons. I'm still so confused as to why there's a word limit on Tumblr, nor do I know how I'm exceeding it?? Like I swear I've seen other authors go far pass what I'm writing (?). I don't know man... but we live on anyways :/

The second type of reader I can see Kiyosumi with is a spit-fire darling, someone who doesn't take any shit, and will call you out on it. She may or may not have some anger issues, willing to scream in your face if she thinks you've disrespected her (or someone she's close to). I like to think of this darling as an enemies-to-lovers troupe, and this darling is likely a fighter of some sort, bonus points if she practices karate.

Now, Kiyosumi originally hates you, absolutely wanting nothing than to tear you into pieces, pound his fist into your face.

Everything about you pisses him off, down to your stupidly soft hair, your firey eyes, your smooth skin, and god dammit, your muscles look abnormally nice today-

Okay, he may have a thing for you, but what can he say? You're a girl in the martial arts world, something that's not common whatsoever. And you're mildly attractive, just a pretty thing to look at, that's what he thinks anyway.

Kiyosumi will try to degrade you, saying that you're just a trophy wife, some inclusion hire, or some crap, anything to push off his feeling for you. He hates that he finds you attractive, strong, and all the things. He's jealous. He wants to be you, you, you.

Why do you get all the recognition? What does Doppo fawn over you, congratulating you on your success, teaching you new things? Why didn't he get that same treatment? It just isn't fair, he's just as good as you, no, he's better, stronger even.

Kiyosumi is no doubt a misogynist, someone who doesn't respect women on the level he should. He doesn't believe that women should be in the martial arts world, something about how they're far too weak, not capable enough to survive in that type of environment (if you're wondering, I think majority of the fighters have this type of sentiment, some more than others).

So imagine his surprise when he sees you waltzing into the arena/dojo, or whatever fighting environment the two of you are in. At first, he laughs, not beliving his eyes, then he's taken aback, eyes blown wide when you take down your opponet with ease. Now his ears are bright red, completely embarrassed that you clearly surpass him strength-wise.

I'm not too sure if you know this quote, but I first heard of it from this Holocaust survivor named Elie Wiesel, and he stated, "The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference..." I believe that to be immensely true, especially in this situation with a yandere Kiyosumi!

His hatred quickly turns into this selfish want, into a need to prove himself to you and keep you for himself. Though his thoughts were already twisted; how can they not? Especially when all he could think was how much better you'd look with your face crushed in, his hands bloody, and your legs contorted in all which ways (not like that). Nothing better than to see that kind smile wiped from your face, replaced with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Yeah... he likes that far better.

But what is he supposed to think when those dark desires become... warped. Now, when he thinks of you, he thinks of how pretty you'd look covered in... him, not blood, but something different. He begins to think you're pretty, not just covered in blood, with teary eyes, but in a sundress with your hair up. Not only that, but he stops cringing whenever you smile, instead, he thinks that the way your eyes crinkle is pleasing to the mind, or how your hair frames your face nicely. Your fighting style isn't stupid anymore. Now it's fuckin' awesome! And how dare those other men even glance at you while you look so badass? Who do they think they are? Do they think they even have a chance with a babe like you? Hell no, that's for him, him, him.

Oh boy, and when you meet Katsumi? Sheesh, that's when things go downhill. Kiyosumi is now paranoid, obsessing over you, you, you. Everything you do is monitored by Kiyosumi, whether you know so or not, wanting to know what you're doing at every waking moment. Kiyosumi has strayed from his original intentions. His feelings for you become warped as he slowly drifts further and further away from reality.

If you really think about it, Kiyosumi is like Katsumi but far grosser. Actually, I take that back. As yanderes, Kiyosumi and Katsumi are on the same level, but Katsumi hides behind this boy-next-door mask, allowing himself to get away with far more. Kiyosumi doesn't have that privilege, so he turns to... unorthodox methods of courting you.

Now you have these creepy ass fotos of you appearing at your work, doorstep, hell, even your purse! They're everywhere, and all you know is that it's from "K...", as your stalker titles it. (Kiyosumi is drunk out of his mind when he sends you these little letters, meaning his penmanship isn't the best... half the time he can't even write his whole name, leading to the K to be pronounced, but the rest of the letters to turn into scribbles lol)

Not only that, but now you feel like you're being watched, like there's a pair of eyes always on you, especially when you're taking a shower... creepy. It's as if there's some kind of shadow always looming over you, causing others to steer clear of you, not wanting to have to do anything with your stalker. It's as if he's right next to you.

And you have a hinting suspicion that it's Katou, seeing as he can't keep a straight face with you, baring his heart on his sleeve. Besides, you can't help but feel unwary whenever he's around.

He stands far too close to you, taking every chance to spare with you, touch you, smell you. Yeah... let's just say you've beaten his ass once or twice. The guy just won't take a hint! Now, it's beginning to piss you off, and you're just about ready to give him a piece of your mind!

Like who does this guy think he is? Touching you as if he has the right? Letting his hands wander down your thighs when you're just supposed to be having a friendly match, does he think you're going to let that slide? Yeah right! His advances just make you punch harder, and him fall deeper.

It's an endless cycle that's coming to a climax rapidly. This onesided romance is just brewing tension between the two of you, one is romantic, and definitely sexual, while the other one is spewing vile hatred.

Kiyosumi doesn't even take a hint when you scream in his face, telling him to fuck off. All he does is adjust his pants and grin, loving how heated you're getting, which just encourages your anger more.

He wants you to keep running your mouth. Yeah, get mad at him, yell at him, tell him how much you hate him. God, it really gets him hard when you talk to him like that, sweets. Don't you know you have quite the mouth? Don't worry, babe, he knows you love 'em, just give it time, time is all he needs.

[riacte]

hope you don't mind me asking, but how do you write/characterise ren?

Hi, thanks for the ask!

For me, Ren has a very distinct character voice, so usually I put in a few words from the Rendog language post and it does like 70% of the work if it's nothing too serious. Hit the dialogue with the Rendogification beam! I know there's a post of people Rendogifying DSMP quotes and it's hilarious. Add a "my dude" before/ after his dialogue and it'll usually work. And maybe pepper in some "get in line"s. Or "outrageous!", "geez", "freakin'".

For HC Ren / Ren in general, I put him as like... a friendly, enthusiastic, charismatic guy who's very supportive of his friends and he's always eager to help. He is kind and sees the best in everyone. He's also very dramatic and unashamed of his dramatic tendencies (singing out loud, posing, twirling). And of course he flirts. He flirts with everything. He's probably flirted with someone's houseplant. He wants everyone to get in line for him. He makes a lot of inappropriate jokes (check my #the rd difference tag) which is greeted with complete silence.

But underneath that, I think he's a guy who tends to look down on himself / self deprecating and he is soooooo self sacrificial. He's gonna be good at something then go "I've never been good at anything 🥺". And he is genuinely so eager to sacrifice himself at all times; he'll probably throw himself in front of his friends to save them. And I think Ren is terrified of being lonely which is why he's clingy. If you leave him to his devices for too long he'll literally burn / blow up his base (Last Life, HC 7). Ren is fantastic with words, he's optimistic and naturally good at bringing people together, but he's also just a doggy who wants company.

Ren is quite talkative and he can ramble about random topics forever. But he also occasionally asks questions to his friends so they can contribute to the conversation. And I think he's fantastic as a storyteller because not only is he a master at "yes, and", he also likes including his friends and subtly inviting them to roleplay with him.

Ren is highly sentimental and remembers a lot of memories. He's not afraid to go sappy and sincere and vulnerable, but then again there's his fear of being a burden. Ren has a tendency to trail after competent, snarky, and mildly intimidating people (insert Ren's greens: Doc, Iskall, Martyn, False, etc) and enjoys being lovingly bullied and lovingly used as a punching bag. He lovesssss being a pathetic lil guy. He loves acting sad and soggy. And he kinda loves being beheaded and beheading his friends.

Ultimately, I think Ren greatly values company and loyalty, and always desires a tightknit group of people to belong to, maybe to even lead (Knights of the Square Table, Dogwarts, etc). And he wants to be useful and not be a burden, leading to his self sacrificial tendencies. He is so eager to serve and offer his services to the rest of the server— in HC, he likes selling / providing food in the early days (HC 4 he made a farm, HC 9 Gigapies) and then proceeds to build infrastructure for everyone to enjoy (HC 6 Hermit Railway Network), or come up with detailed "game" systems (HC 5 Hermitron (?) and HC 9 Hermit Quests). In that way, despite his theatrics, Ren is quite practical and down to earth. Give the man something to manage and he'll be happy.

I don't read a lot of HC fics nowadays but I don't think I've seen like, really severe mischaracterisation of Ren. Probably because Ren RPs a lot so he can RP as a lot of characters which decreases OOC-ness, maybe? Ren's a bit pathetic but he's not a coward, he will literally die for his friends. And while Ren might be a bit of a "derp", he has decent strategies (sometimes) which is mostly him accumulating resources + building a secure fortress (evident in Life series).

For Life series Ren, it's similar but more... guarded and cautious. Still desires a tight knit group of allies (usually his top priority). Still loves gathering his resources and building his defenses. Is kind and forgiving to the point he's taken advantage of (this behaviour decreases in latter series). And he loves his allies with all of his life and would die for them.

Oops, this got long lol. Hope this was helpful! :D

[maximsdeadwife]

Soft Sherlock Headcanons

Sherlock Holmes x reader fluff and comfort

Masterlist

Authors notes: I’ve been a Sherlock Holmes fan for years upon years, but this is the first time I’ve written him. It’s written with any Sherlock in mind but I’ve been particularly taken with Henry Cavill recently

Warnings: mildly sexually suggestive at the end, tobacco mention

Sherlock kisses you with fierce passion when he gets a spark of inspiration and is momentarily excited about a breakthrough in a case. He’s vanished the next moment, already ten steps ahead of where he was a moment ago, but his soft lips and the traces of his strong hands gripping your cheeks leaves your head spinning

When he’s struggling with a piece of the puzzle, he needs you just as much. Although he often requires silence in these moments, solitude isn’t always preferable. He will occasionally pull you to him and guide you to lay on his chest in complete silence, the pattern of your breathing and the weight of you against him soothing him endlessly as his mind works overtime

Melts when you make notes on his ramblings so he can revisit thoughts he would have otherwise discarded. You know this because his mouth fleetingly curls into a smile and he exhales slowly before resuming his usual pace

You’ll catch him watching you on occasion, when he’s supposed to be breaking some code or other and you think he’s still working on it, but actually he finished with that half an hour ago and, curiosity sated, has been gazing at you lovingly since

Nuzzles into your neck when he actually makes it to bed, your warmth and scent calming him immeasurably. He never realises how touch starved he is until his mind isn’t occupied with riddles and mysteries and your body feels so soft against his

His scent varies depending on where he’s been investigating, which tobacco he’s used, what he’s experimented with in his makeshift lab, and whether he’s been dressing in disguise. But there are always staple scents underpinning his aroma; white musk, honey and something smoky with a slightly bitter twist of ink

When he’s bored, he will find ways to occupy himself with you whilst trying his hardest not to appear needy. It always fails, however, and usually ends up with you both tangled together on the little sofa, whispering sweet nothings, giggling and kissing like lovesick teenagers

When he’s feeling sentimental, he calls you his Little Problem, because despite being far from problematic to him, he’s endlessly fascinated with you

Never believes you when you tell him he’s handsome, particularly when he’s been wearing pyjamas for three days and hasn’t bothered to comb his hair, but your extra little touches and kisses go a long way to convincing him that at least you believe it to be true

When he’s finding a social situation tricky, he surreptitiously grasps your hand in his. No one else can see, but the reassurance of your fingers squeezing his back makes his breath even out and his heart slow down

Adores the tender moments of domesticity that you share. They’re all too rare with his erratic schedule, but you bring him tea in a morning when he doesn’t want to get out of bed, or lovingly help him dress with gentle fingers carefully buttoning up his shirt, or smooth his hair down with a smile at his soft, natural curls, and he practically swoons

Always having being a fan of A Touch of The Dramatic™, he’s a hopeless romantic when he has the energy to pour into spoiling you, pulling out all the stops to make you feel special and loved. He knows that his work can make you feel lonely sometimes, so he likes to balance that out when he can with his attention solely focussed on you for a while

After a particularly taxing case, he loves nothing more than to hibernate with you. It starts with a hot bath, laying together in the silky water for hours as blissful silence washes over him, counteracting the overload of his previously racing mind

When he gathers enough energy, he whispers in a low grumble, ‘I’ll always come back to you, darling. You know that, don’t you? No matter where a case takes me, I’ll always return.’

Then, if you encourage him, he will join you for a meal before bed, where he can finally sleep soundly, relaxed in your arms — but not before spending a few more hours relishing in your touch (and your reaction to his)

[smolweeblets]

Taters

Karlach x Reader/Tav

A/n: I live temporarily. Back with another fandom. Small ramble note at the bottom.

Winter was just around the corner, causing the night air to chill as of late. You used to hate the cold, it reminded you of… less fortunate times. However, these days you've found yourself slowly being able to see the beauty of it, reason being your beautiful girlfriend, who’s kept you perfectly warm every night, safe and protected against any unsavory memories.

The amazing tiefling who's stolen your heart has kept you company for countless evenings, with each one feeling as special as the last. But this time you find yoursef pondering, a memory—or rather a word—that you couldnt quite shake off.

Taters.

It was just such a bittersweet moment for you both. You thought her family using words just for them was such a cute thing to do, it seemed to make Karlach so happy. It kicked some gears in your brain into motion, so much so that you happened to mindlessly utter it out.

“Pardon, love?” Karlach craned her head to look at you atop her chest.

“Oh– nothing, was just lost in thought–”

“Ah, well taters, either way” She grinned from below you.

Your heart melts a little inside of you. How was anyone allowed to be this cute? Yhe universe is unbelievable.

“Yeah… listen Karlach, ive been thinking about something” You trail off slightly, not quite sure on what you actually want to say.

Karlach tilts her head slightly to the side. A worried frown painting her features. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just… happened to think about your family… The language you had together, you said you were the last remaining speaker. I want to change that.” You held her hand as you talked, both for her reassurance and yours. You mindlessly toyed with it as you spoke.

Karlachs eyes widened.

“You want to kill me!?” She gasped incredulously. “I knew it was only a matter of time… I wouldnt mind if it was you though, make it quick” She stuck her bottom lip out and wiped a fake tear from her eye, while the other hand held yours to her chest.

You snatched your hand from where she held it and lightly bopped her on the forehead, looking only mildly amused.

“As if.” You scoffed lightheartedly.

Karlach grinned. “Of course, so what about my parents?” There was a faraway look in her eyes. Shes told you that she loves talking about her parents, but being a little sentimental about it was unavoidable.

“The uh… the language you had together, what other words did you guys have?”

“You want to know about the gibberish we spoke?” Karlach smiled, unsure.

“Yeah, it was a big part of your childhood, I want to make more good memories with those words… maybe with a family of our own.” You sunk your face into the firm muscle of her shoulder, partly because it was comfy, but partly to avoid looking at her, in case she didnt agree.

“I cant believe you just brought up the idea of a family before I could. How dare you.” The pitch of her voice raised towards the end. She narrowed her eyes at you.

“Oops” You giggle, face still smooshed against her skin.

“Hmph.” She scoffed. “Give me a moment to remember, im sure I can dig up some of them.” Karlach gazed at the ceiling, mind drifting back to her childhood.

“Lets see… chess… chess meant a kiss… Yeah, I think I remember being grossed out because I saw my parents giving each other ‘chesses’.” Karlach chuckles softly at the memory.

“Chesses? Thats… oddly fitting for a kiss.” You smiled. “What else?”

“Sheesh just give me a moment” Karlach pouts. “Cant let a woman think for shit in here” She huffs.

“So dramatic. Just take your time.” You rolled your eyes.

Karlach scoffs, but otherwise stays silent for a moment, collecting little anecdotes from her childhood.

“Hmm… Blankets were called ‘warmers’ I think”

“Simple and straightforward, I like it.” You grin

“Right?” Karlach laughs, a beautiful sound. You cant help but snuggle up impossibly closer into her. And she holds you just a little bit tighter.

“Then…” Karlach trails off slowly, hand unconsciously starting to pet your head. “Hm. Sorry soldier, cant remember any more right now.” Karlach sheepishly smiled.

“Thats okay, we can try again tomorrow. I think let's just sleep, i'm tuckered out”

“Sounds great.” She presses a kiss to your forehead.

~~~~~

The conversation is mostly forgotten by her, whose been busy with choosing only the best produce for you both at the market. She left before you woke up, hoping to surprise you, but it seems she got too caught up with haggling with the shop ladies, so that plan was out the window.

As soon as she enters your shared cabin, youre immediately clung onto her.

“Chess.” You peel yourself away from the hug momentarily to face her with a kissy face at her while pointing at your face.

Her brows furrows before they relax and melt into an expression of surprise and awe. She leans down to give you a small peck then envelops you in a large bear hug.

“Gods, have no clue how happy that made me” She grins widely.

“Yeah? Prepare to be happy a lot more then.” You preen at the feeling of being able to make her feel like this.

“Thats going to be difficult considering im already always happy when im with you.” Karlach looks at you adoringly. To an almost painful degree.

The emotions rushing into you felt a little overbearing. Your eyes narrow and your muscles stiffen. “Im getting cuteness aggression.”

“Im honored.” She smirks.

“Stop or else I will actually fall to the floor.”

“I cant, youre too amazing. But don't worry if you fall, ill make sure to nurse you better myself.” Her voice was teasing, but held affection all the same.

“Just stop talking to me.” You bat at her shoulder stiffly as your face sits in a lighthearted scowl.

“Alright, ill lay off from the sweet talk for a little bit. Just for now.” She relents.

“Somehow that makes it even worse. Im going to feed the pets. Bye.” You move robotically, movements restrained from the rush of the pure emotions.

Karlach chuckles to herself, used to your mannerisms. Youll be back, and in the meanwhile, she supposes she’ll be cooking breakfast for the both of you.

“Alright love, taters!” She waves. She takes the produce from the bags and prepares them to be cooked.

Not long after, she hears a loud crash swiftly followed by your voice.

“Im fine!” You hurriedly shout. God forbid she saw the mess you made from recoiling when she called you.

Karlach shakes her head as she continues washing the vegetables. You were one hell of a person, and she couldnt see herself with anyone else.

A/n#2: AGHHH I FINISHED ITTT. Listen I had an idea but I dont know how to actually write it. I guess its still cute but it has strayed from what i have envisioned. Started with the original prompt then turned into a sort of domestic bliss/banter thing? I dont know. Anyway, this became a shameless self insert but its okay because its my fic. also dont ask about the made up words im uncreative.

Sorry for the ADHD rant this is how I am when im supposed to be sleeping, till next time guys <33

[jokerislandgirl32]

I Still Remember It All

So, I wrote this crying last night at midnight…it’s about my grandpa who I lost on this day 2 years ago, feel free to ignore this post, it’s mainly me rambling and being weepy and sentimental.

It’s been 2 years since my grandfather died, and I’m feeling it now. He was the kindest, sweetest, loyal, devoted, most gentle man you’d ever want to meet. His demeanor changed once he started having strokes in his later years, but he never said a harsh word to me or tried to hurt me.

My childhood was filled with wonderful moments with him, from seeing this sweet older man who rarely raised his voice go wild on a snake, to helping him in the garden in the summers, to pitting cherries with him in the kitchen, to listening to him sing and whistle constantly, to watching westerns with him, to eating meals beside him, to being picked up from school for nearly 4 years by him.

I was his baby, and as I became older and he became sicker it’s like he became my baby. I would “grandpa-sit’ when my grandma was in the hospital or at the doctor. I cut his nails, shaved him, did his hair, dressed him, cooked for him, and fed him when he got to the point he could not do this for himself and my grandma could no longer help him.

A lot of people may say you shouldn’t have had to do that stuff for him, you were a kid. True, I was 13 when it started, when I became my grandparents primary caregiver. But I would go back in a heartbeat. They are my world and my grandpa is the father I wish I could have had. My father has been good to me, he’d provided for me and helped me, but he has a volatile personality, to put it mildly, so it’s hard.

But my grandfather…he was special, our bond was special He always wanted to have another daughter after my mom, and part of me thinks that maybe he saw me as the second daughter he never got to have.

He never knew me by my name…he only knew me by my nickname that he gifted me the day I was born: “Popcorn.” Unusual, yes, but he had a sharp mind that knew that was perfect for me.

He even made a song about me, I wish I had recorded it, but I didn’t have the capability at the time he was still able to sing it. It went like this:

“Popcorn, popcorn sittin’ on a rock

Popcorn, popcorn way behind

Popcorn, popcorn sittin’ on a rock

Popcorn, Popcorn way behind…”

I can hear him singing it…It’s my head right now….Maybe he’s singing it to our daughter, tomorrow’s birthday girl, right now…

I truly think that Alexandria wanted a grandfather for her 1st birthday, and that’s why God took him home on this day, 2 years ago…

The flowers from his spray…he had blue eyes and was a welder, so the silver leaves seem fitting…

Until we meet again, grandpa…Please take care of our baby girl, all my love ~ Popcorn

[natequarter]

19 Mary

19: “I had a nightmare, you were in it.”

Mary stared at Humphrey. “I had a nightmare, sirs, and you were in it.”

“Erm,” he said. “Could you maybe right me, before we discuss that?”

“Of course, sir.” She dipped into a curtsey, and he grimaced. “Sir, did I’s upset you?”

“No,” he said, “I just wish you wouldn’t call me sir. How about Humphrey?”

“…Sir,” she said, and he gave up.

“You were saying about nightmares? Was I an artist, perchance?”

“No, sir,” she said. “‘Twas the day of…”

“Your death?”

She nodded. “‘Twas a most glorious day, the crowd notwithstanding, and I did thinks at first that I was perfectly safe; until I did come upon a wooden stake, to which I was tied, and you dids watch on. ‘Twas very strange indeed, as you had been dead in the ground—the body, o’ course”—of course; who could forget London Bridge?—“for four an’ twenty years prior. And you did not laugh, for all was silent, but ‘twas very strange indeed.”

“Indeed,” he echoed. “And you’re telling me this … why?”

“Rrho saids I should—share my troubles. He saith that often.”

“Taking advice from the savage, eh? I don’t recommend it.”

“He also said I should throw you out the window, sir.” She looked abashed at this, though only mildly so. Probably she agreed with the sentiment, but felt it would be rude to admit to it to his face. (Which was true.)

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Humphrey said. “I don’t bounce, you know, and it’s rather painful. If you’re that interested in beating me up, give my body a punch in the face for me. Well, not the face. A kick in the—sorry, I’m rambling again. Don’t mind me. I was attending your execution, right?”

“Yes, sir, and you were late.”

He snorted. “I thought I was twenty-four years too earlier.”

“I don’ts understand, sir.”

“…Never mind. My point is, I think, haven’t you got someone better to share your nightmares with? Like, I don’t know, the savage? I’m sure he’s got something insightful to say.”

“Oh, no, I coulds not find him—”

“Oh, joy,” he muttered.

“—so I came to you.”

“Well, I’m flattered, Mary, but I was hoping to doze for a bit here, and frankly I’m not sure how much I can help. I’d suggest some embroidery, but that might be a bit of a dead end.”

She looked at him blankly, as if he were slightly less useful than the fresh corpse of a plague victim. Rather rude, really; plague victims were wonderful people once you overcame the natural urge to turn away and vomit in disgust.

“Dead end? As in dead? No?” No laughs. Not even the flicker of a smile. Hadn’t worked on Matilda, didn’t work on Elizabeth. Worked a charm on Rrho, but that wasn’t saying much. William had just called it insensitive. “Tough crowd.”

“I dids see a tough crowd,” she said, “and they did jeer as I began to burn.”

“Charming.”

She cocked her head. “Did you watch, sir? Upon the day of my death, that is, not in the nightmare, for I knows you watched there.”

“Er, no,” he said. “Your furry mate kicked me into a bush. Didn’t let me watch, even if I’d wanted to.” Which he hadn’t. “I heard bits. The screaming, mostly.”

Her expression contorted, as if she was still in the middle of deciding how to react when she made a face. “‘Tis not a day I takes pleasure in remembering.”

“I understand,” Humphrey said. “It’s not pleasant, coming to terms with your own death.”

“Have you, sir?”

“My death?” he said. “Oh, ages ago. It was over too quickly to worry much about it. The lead-up to it, though…”

“‘Twas troubling, like mine, sir?”

“A very long and troubled misunderstanding…” He sighed. “If I had shoulders, I’d be shaking my head right now. I suppose you’ll just have to settle with imagining it.”

“I could”—he prayed she would finish with find your body—“shake your head for you, sir?”

“What?” he said, so genuinely surprised by her words that he spoke his disbelief aloud.

“If I pick you up, sir—”

“Or you could find my body,” Humphrey suggested.

“What good would that do’s?” she said, just as confused. “‘Twill just wander off again, or you will fall off again. ‘Tis a pointless endeavour.”

“You’re lovely, you are. Very motivational.” She wasn’t wrong, though.

She curtseyed again. “Thank you, sir.”

“No, that wasn’t—oh, never mind. Well, thank you too, Mary, for talking to me. I don’t often get that opportunity.” Now, having a normal conversation, that he never got. “Feel free to come back for me later, with my body, or for more conversation, or, you know, with my body, and have a lovely day.”

“God be with you, sir,” she said, in that curiously wavering voice of hers, then wandered off, leaving him alone to nothing but his own thoughts again. He considered idly going back over the events of his death, out of sheer boredom, but found he simply could not be arsed. Hopefully someone would pick him up sooner rather than later—but if Elizabeth was still asleep, and Rrho off chasing after God knew what, it would probably be later.

Christ, being burnt at the stake must have done a number on the poor woman.

(link)

[emeraldenha]

I posted 1,444 times in 2022

That's 904 more posts than 2021!

1,129 posts created (78%)

315 posts reblogged (22%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@emeraldenha

@rubysluvbot

@ddeonuism

@thepixelelf

@cloudykyu

I tagged 1,349 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#ri rambles🕊 - 392 posts

#the bestie circle💛 - 340 posts

#anon asks &lt;3 - 298 posts

#bmit: ri replies! - 182 posts

#🦕 anon - 149 posts

#🐇 anon - 116 posts

#miscellaneous thingz - 102 posts

#anon asks - 101 posts

#non enha thingz💫 - 89 posts

#enha simp hours🙇‍♀️ - 60 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and i was lowkey 👀 for this album bc i liked all the songs from the highlight medley but didn’t like that they were mostly all under 3 mins

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

chapter 40 | “I love you”

w/c: +1.5k

warning⚠️: sentimental fluff and a mildly intimate kissing scene ahead!

See the full post

390 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#4

chapter 29 | “why is he here”

w/c: +1.9k

warning⚠️: a bit heavier on the cursing, an angsty wonki argument/bickering

See the full post

407 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#3

chapter 29.5 | “can i kiss you?”

w/c: +0.5k

“Are you sure you want to be eating these?” you ask him timidly. He’s lost track of how many times you’ve repeatedly pestered him with this question.

After the two of you left the school building, you had mutually agreed on taking a short break at a random bench somewhere in the middle of your walk home. Even though Riki complained that he was tired and hungry, he had refused to leave your side—and therefore—settled on eating the pre-made sandwiches you had stocked up on at the convenience store earlier.

“You act like these sandwiches come from hell and not a plastic box.” Riki chuckles in amusement. He peels back the flimsy seal lining the front and begins to guzzle down the simple ham and cheese. “It’s no big deal, Y/n. You’re thinking too much.”

“It’s not that late,” you insistently oppose, ignoring what he said. “You could still probably make it in time to eat with your family.”

“But I want to eat with you.”

“Oh...”

“I would’ve just invited you to dinner at my house, but I thought that it was probably too soon to meet the parents.”

“Yah, shut up!” You lightly shove him by the shoulder.

“Is it normal for you?” Riki asks carefully. “To eat by yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you pause to take a bite of your own sandwich, “I guess that's just the way it’s been for me. The house is always pretty quiet.”

“I should get my mom to teach you how to cook,” Riki exclaims. “She’d be so excited.”

“Really?” You laugh.

“Totally!” he says in a dramatically enthusiastic tone. You can tell he's trying to lift the mood, and you appreciate it. “You should swing by sometime. They'd love you, seriously.”

Riki collects the trash after he finishes eating and puts it aside in an empty grocery bag. Clearing his hands, he holds one of yours and naturally starts playing with your fingers.

“Thanks for the offer.” You slip into a subtle smile, only able to make eye contact with the ground, or else you'll just about lose your mind. “I'll think about it.”

You finally tilt your head up to see Riki already staring right at you. His gaze is tender underneath the bluish-orange sunset, leaving you completely and utterly memorized. The opportunity forms itself; it’s the kind of suspense that makes you feel like you’re being suspended in midair.

“Can I kiss you?” you say without even thinking. All you can focus on is the close proximity between you and him on this bench.

Riki opts to not respond knowing that he'll stutter otherwise, instead, deciding to nod while he leans in closer and closer. You can tell how nervous he is by the hopelessly lost look in his dark brown eyes. You are too, but you try to block out the thought.

The kiss starts out as nothing more than an innocent peck at first, then, he gently pulls you back in with his hand on the back of your neck. His lips are laced in sweet euphoria and cold ham and cheese sandwiches. His touch is rather warm and welcoming, so much so that you think your body will overheat into a ball of fire.

And when he eventually pulls away, it feels all too soon.

“Have I ever told you that I really like you?” you say jokingly, pressing your forehead onto his.

“You have.” Riki grins from ear to ear, hand now grazing your cheek. “But say it again.”

prev || masterlist || next

✰ BREAKING ME IN TWO ✰

summary: after all your years of pining for your best friend, Yang Jungwon, you suddenly catch him with his secret girlfriend… which happens to be your other best friend. deciding to forgive and forget, you heartbrokenly cut all ties and fall back into your habits of self isolation. however, that doesn’t go as planned when Nishimura Riki approaches you with an almost-confession and a stolen keychain.

taglist: @pebbypenny @hoodiebangtan @jakes-tummy @ncityy04 @clear-color-hair @hrtattcker @anuisamazing @desitr98 @a-vian @urresidentdrugdealer @studioreader @aria-grace-scott @s0ngk4ng @httpsoa @sunvishine @lomlyeonjun @haechans-sunflower @unipanda1006 @angel-ishere @hyuckslytherin @pixyseeun @minyoongisbigassfeet @giyyuzz @ncthpen @rikisnotforsale @uhhalexwashere @renjunvibes @meiiiwa @acciomylove @wiltingdaisies @xetherealbeautyx @tomorrowbymoa-together @leeis @mildlystupid @ryumiko221 @kyleeanne @iamnotgrootforiamthor @soobnny @ddeonubaby @ohmy-fandoms @c0nvers3h1gh @yeetjake @yeonjunsleftboob @junhyukiscute @nvm @justanotherimaginesaccount @pixisvng bolded accounts couldn’t be tagged!

429 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

#2

✎ SUMMARY. both you and Jake Sim have one thing in common and that is being best friends with an ‘it couple’ on campus. after properly getting to know each other at a new year’s eve party, you think seeing his face one too many times the following weeks could all be a coincidental fate. what you soon realize is that fate comes in the form of your two friend groups who want nothing more than the two of you to start dating.

✎ PAIRING. awkward nerd!jake x fem!reader (sunghoon x yeji & jay x ryujin)

✎ FEATURING. enhypen’s 02z line, itzy

✎ GENRE. university au, fluff, strangers to lovers

✎ WARNINGS. cursing, alcohol consumption, all pairings between itzy and enhypen members are purely used for plot convenience

✎ W/C. +6.4k words

✎ ADDITIONAL NOTE. this is part of the Nuevo Comienzo (new beginnings) collab created by dulceamar! please consider checking out all the other amazing works by other authors throughout the year!

See the full post

511 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

❈ SUMMARY. though managing to stay in touch, you and Nishimura Riki were forced to live separate lives at different paces, but that was just the new normal. however, after seeing you again during your annual summer visit, he finds himself deep in trouble when faced with acknowledging his hidden feelings.

❈ PAIRING. childhood friend!ni-ki x fem!reader

❈ GENRE. friends to lovers, fake dating trope, mutual pining, fluff

❈ W/C. +6.6k words

❈ WARNINGS. not even cursing for this one folks, just pure and simple fluff <3

See the full post

521 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[xxxpu55yslay3rxxx]

This reply is kind of why I don't like tumblr.

Like I get it, in my original reply I was taking it too seriously. I actually disavow most of the shit I said in it.

But I'll say one thing, the art/comic/sentiment is so damn moralizing and annoying.

"Do not waste your growth" okay stop projecting lol. Just because you were terminally online or burnt bridges or let you social skills wither a bit doesn't mean others have. Why are you preaching lmao?

I think what makes it worse is the dumb sweet passive aggressive wholesome energy behind these posts and sentiment. People like to portray themselves as the wellness messiah and assume everybody who isn't as active as them needs saving.

Anyways, this all pointless rambling. If any of you imply me getting mad or mildly pissed means I lost any argument, congratulations, you guys won. I lost or whatever.

this reblog has some serious "doesnt go outside enough" energy

Jfc get off your high horse. "oh somebody didn't make an argument online, therefore they must be online in an unhealthy way". Man idk you people just want a bubble where people where everybody agrees with you.

a poem

[guide1961]

Merry Christmas Beautiful 🎄🎅🏻🎁

Man!! I’m about to be afraid of what I wrote last night.. I’m sure it’s not that bad but still. The result of various … well you know lol. But the sentiment I’m sure is spot on.

Anyway,I felt you this morning. Big time. Like physically getting reactions from you. It’s crazy cool. As a matter of a fact I still am. 💕

I have one gigantic Christmas wish and that is just to talk and see you. Just fun. Ok it’s not just one but it’s a start.

This connection we have is , to put it mildly is fucking remarkable. It’s part of why I miss you so much. You’re not a ghost. It’s real. Like sometimes I feel your sadness so deep that I begin to feel the same way. I can feel your anxiousness, happiness and I can tell where it’s directed. My best guess is you can do the same.

I’m thankful I can feel you. I just wished I could touch you. I want to so badly.

Well C_____, there’s a hell of a Christmas morning ramble lol!!

I hope you have a fantastic Christmas Day. I hope the girls are so happy that they are jumping out of their skin that Santa came!!🎅🏻

I Love You so much…I kinda stopped saying how much because profound eternity isn’t enough. Really. You are the most of all that I’ve ever wanted and didn’t know until we fell in Love.

❤️♾️❤️💕🎄🎅🏻🎁🤗😘

[doodlebeeberry]

ik this points been made before plenty of times but no gender/sexuality has any kind of age limit

like its important to remember that there are folks who are ace n non-binary n pan n trans n etc. who aren’t teens, and that forgetting that aspect of can lead to the implication that those genders/sexualities are just “funky things that teens do and then grow out of”

there are plenty of older folks who id as these things, and that matters alot cause it proves that, while labels can and do certainly change, its not tied to some “folly of youth” nonsense. That you can grow n be content in your identity no matter where you are in life. That there’s not need to rush what is an inherently an often complicated and really personal process, cause you’ve got plenty of time to get there and plenty of time to be happy with it once you do. That you dont need to tell yourself your something your not cause you worry your identity’ll be written of as childish or immature. Not to mention how much knowledge and experience they have that can be invaluable to folks at any point in their journey! The rich and varied history of our community that they represent!

im kinda going off on a bit of a tangent but just like. be little bit mindful of phrasing identities as inherently being young ppl things or that folks of certain identities are inherently gonna be young n stuff cause the connotations that can carry are sometimes. less than stellar

[wilde-son]

Don’t mind me, I’m just fantasizing about spending my life with another man and calling him “lover” and getting married under the eyes of the Gods... 

[brittsacademia]

Glad to see a brand new mha fanfic blog I'm excited to see wht you got! Can you do some Dabi fluff? Like maybe he and the reader were really close during their childhood. Reader joins the LoV later on but doesn't recognize Dabi as Touya? I'll let your imagination run with how you wanna do this! :D

Thank you for both the encouragement and being my first request! I'm excited to get started with this blog, and I just wanna say that I love your request. I got rather inspired, so I decided to do a drabble that ended up longer than expected; I hope you enjoy!

Requests are OPEN, guys, so send me some stuff in!

Title: Reminiscent

Summary: When Touya died, Dabi was sure that he'd leave his past behind, never to look back on it. However, it proved difficult to do so when you — his closest friend from childhood — joined the League by some ungodly chance, especially when you began recalling all of your most prized moments spent together, not knowing the man in your stories sat right beside you.

Pairing: Dabi | Touya Todoroki X Reader

Genre: Fluff + Angst

CW: | Mentions of death | Mentions of abuse | Mentions of Violence | Smoking | Soft(ish) Dabi | Mourning | Swearing |

Word Count: 6,414

Dabi remembered the night like it had happened yesterday. He wasn't ready to forget how a part of his past had unexpectedly caught up to him, how his persona was threatened to be shattered, and how that night would forever complicate everything regarding the current life he led.

The reactions, for the most part, ranged from mildly interested to utterly excited — there hadn't been a recruit in quite some time — though Dabi had been utterly disinterested in Shigaraki's ravings of a new comrade joining the ranks. Dabi was, after all, not there for trivial camaraderie, a thing he deemed a waste of his time while the rest of his moronic co-workers developed some form of kinship. 

He remembered overhearing a conversation between Shigaraki and Kurogiri, the latter being the one to persuade Shigaraki to pursue this mystery person as a League member. The second-in-command thoroughly believed that the person would be a crucial, tactical addition.

He leaned against the bar wall furthest from the rest of the League, somewhat processing the information Shigaraki rambled on about. Something about this new recruit having a history with fraud and blackmail against various Pro Heroes, completed with stealth abilities comparable to the underground hero, Eraserhead, had he gone villainous. Such a skillset was much needed in the League, Dabi could admit that much, but the sentiments he felt for this upcoming recruit was nothing more than that — a utility for the cause.

"What's taking Giran so long?" Shigaraki grumbled, drumming his fingers against the bar's surface.

"Patience, Tomura Shigaraki," Kurogiri said. "Giran has yet to disappoint us with his services. I trust that he will arrive shortly."

Typical of Kurogiri, being the voice of reason to look after Shigaraki's brat-like personality.

Dabi had spared a glance when the door creaked open, bells chiming, and it was then that Dabi's state of apathy had quickly collapsed, being replaced by absolute shock — bewilderment, even. He had to do a double-take to assure himself that he had crossed the boundaries of insanity and officially began hallucinating when he saw you walk through the door with Giran by your side.

The day that Touya Todoroki died — a freak accident by the hands of his own quirk is what they all thought — was the dawn of a new era. Reborn as Dabi, he swore to leave his past behind, living his new life as a superhuman society-hating criminal within the heart of the infamous League of Villains. It was fine by him; consequences be damned. Care had long disappeared from his being.

So, what the hell was he supposed to think now? How the hell was he supposed to react? Dabi wondered if this was the universe's way of cruelly punishing him for his sins. Throwing at him — so suddenly, not to mention — one of the biggest aspects of his past was one of the lowest blows God himself could have inflicted on him. 

He blinked once, twice and a third time before narrowing his eyes at you, still in denial of who was standing amongst him and the League. But no, Dabi felt like he'd been frozen in time at the moment; it was real. You were there, and he'd be damned to not recognize your face. Even after all those years, you hadn't changed much.

Offering a crooked smile and curt nod, your voice rang throughout the room as you introduced yourself. "Thank you for considering me for your cause. You can call me (Y/N), and—"

Fuck. He could barely hear your voice over the sound of the hundreds of thoughts and questions echoing throughout his mind. None was the wiser of Dabi's internal dilemma; he'd always been a master at standing strong with a stoic expression, seemingly never bothered. 

You stood there, yet Dabi still held denial. This wasn't actually you. It was just a person who happened to look like you and had the same name. It wasn't that far-fetched, Dabi tried to reassure himself.

Kurogiri was the one to speak. "After much consideration, Tomura Shigaraki and I believe that you would bring many opportunities. Your record of bringing heroes to shame, as well as your impeccable abilities to infiltrate, gather information, and plan will, without a doubt, bring us closer to our goals," he bowed slightly. "On behalf of the League of Villains, welcome."

"Thank you!" You said in a chipper manner that was — in Dabi's opinion — eerily familiar. "I'd like to add that I've got quite the medical training. If any of you need patching up, you can come to me for that."

At that moment, it became progressively more difficult for Dabi to believe that it wasn't you. Images of his childhood flashed before his eyes, how you'd always patch him up whenever he trained too hard or got into fights with others. 

"Oh, great. That's nice. We don't have a competent medic in our group. These idiots tend to get reckless out on the field, so you'll be useful, hopefully," Shigaraki said. "Now, Giran said that your quirk had something to do with, uhh… paralysis? Yeah, that's it, isn't it?"

You nodded. "Right. If I dig my nails into someone's flesh, I can cause paralysis. The longer I hold the grip, the more the effect spreads throughout the person's body. The deeper my grip, the faster the spread."

That was it for Dabi. As warm as his body ran, he swore he felt his blood run cold. There was no more denying it, it was you, and he didn't know what to feel. He only knew one person with this specific quirk, with medical experience, that was named (Y/N) and looked like that. He didn't know how to handle the slew of emotions coursing through him all at once; it'd been so long since he felt anything so powerful, so confusing.

Anxiety. What if you recognized him? Was this going to be the end of the perfect facade he'd been holding up for so long?

Anger. How dare you waltz back into his life when he was so sure he'd left everything behind? Who the fuck did you think you were?

Relief. You still existed. You were alive and well, the one person that stuck with Dabi throughout his youth.

Confusion. How did these kinds of coincidences happen? And why in the hell had you turned to a life of crime? When did that happen? If you'd told him, all those years ago, that you'd live your life blackmailing heroes and committing fraud, he wouldn't have taken you seriously.

He could faintly make out the voices of his co-workers, making their rounds as they introduced themselves to you. Dabi had completely zoned out, not knowing what to think of the fact that he'd have to work alongside you. 

Then it happened; you made eye contact with one another. Dabi carefully studied your expression, trying to determine whether you would see through him — see Touya. Despite it all, Dabi stood his ground, not letting the bored expression falter. Don't do it, Dabi told himself. Whatever he did, he couldn't give himself away.

To his relief, you didn't seem to show any signs of recognition — unless you had phenomenal acting abilities. Your expression being contorted into one of anticipation, you were most likely waiting for him to introduce himself. 

He didn't blame you; Dabi had undergone quite the transformation since Touya died, firstly being much more toned than he once was. His hair was no longer the crimson — and even white — colour that you were accustomed to. What was once a wavy style had turned into a punk-like, spiky hairdo. The many piercings he had were new, and of course, the jarring charred patches of skin along his face and body, lined with poorly done surgical staples. 

Wordlessly, Dabi pushed himself away from the wall, opting to move away from the bar's main area, not sparing you an introduction or another glance. He disappeared into the back hallway, making way for the rooftop access.

He could still hear their voices as he walked away, Toga in particular, as the unruly teen was rather loud.

"Oh, that's just Dabi! He's always grumpy! If anything, I think he likes you; he didn't insult you!" She said.

"My dear, I do apologize for Dabi's behaviour. How rude to treat a comrade in such a way," Compress said.

And with that, Compress' obnoxious tone was the final thing Dabi heard before ascending the stairs. 

He couldn't do it, couldn't stay in the same room as you. He needed to gather his thoughts; if he thought about it too much, it'd drive him insane. But Dabi knew that he wouldn't be able to avoid you forever; that was possibly the thought that haunted him the most.

His past was coming back, and there wasn't much he could do about it unless he wanted his identity to be revealed.

He wasn't ready to forget that day, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his distance, he couldn't.

Dabi didn't know if it was because you were co-workers — cooperating with one another was inevitable — or because he naturally gravitated towards you, not having forgotten the warmth you brought him during the horrendous period of his life he called a childhood. He wanted nothing more than to reject you, push you away, but he found himself failing miserably. 

Ignoring you outside of missions had only lasted two weeks.

Nearly everyone had gone to bed or, at the very least, everybody had retreated to their cramped room just above the bar; they were rooms that would have normally served as temporary housing for people much too drunk to go home.

It left Dabi alone, sitting at the bar as he took swigs of harsh whisky straight from the bottle. The foul liquid burned at his throat, but it was much needed to wash away the stress.

He'd forgotten that you had gone out until he spared a glance at the door, having heard the bells chiming. He stared at your form with his usual, stoic expression; you looked exhausted, and Dabi didn't gloss over those deep, dark bags under your eyes. You looked ready to pass out any moment; your eyes were fluttering on their own.

"You look like shit," Dabi said, turning his attention back to the bottle.

"Charming, as always," you muttered, though loud enough for Dabi to hear. "I feel like shit, so good to know that I look the part."

He heard your feet shuffling across the floor until you took a seat next to him. There were a few seconds of awkward silence as Dabi could feel your eyes boring into him.

He hated it — absolutely hated — when you looked at him like that. His heart stopped every single time, thinking that you were analyzing him and would recognize him.

"Pour me a shot?" You asked.

Dabi slid the bottle towards you. "Help yourself, doll."

"Thanks," you replied, popping the bottle open and downing the liquor. "What're you still doing up, anyway?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

A man of few words, unless he was spewing some form of sarcastic comment. You decided not to push the small talk much further, opting to pull out your phone to look through photos and videos you'd gotten throughout the day. A small smirk graced your feature, a feeling of power and accomplishment running through your veins at the various compromising evidence you'd managed to get against various so-called Pro Heroes. Some were scandalous, having the potential to bring down their entire career. Some were an invasion of privacy, comparable to embarrassing paparazzi shots.

Dabi glanced at your screen. "You've been busy."

"Oh yeah," you said. "I wonder how people would feel once they find out that the hero Deep Sea has a thing for minors. Would be a shame if those conversations and pictures leaked, huh?"

"What a tragedy for that poor hero," Dabi said; you could hear the mockery in his tone. 

You chuckled, nodding in agreement before another moment of silence fell between the two of you.

"Tell me, (Y/N)," Dabi said, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" You hummed, turning your attention to him.

"What's your deal? Why did you join the League?" Dabi asked.

He regretted asking, but his curiosity got the best of him. Dabi felt the urge to know why. Why did you turn to a life of crime when you told him — he remembered — that you wished to become a nurse and work at a children's hospital? What pushed you over that edge? What made you change your route?

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Are you deaf?" Dabi said. "Exactly what I said: why? Don't get me wrong, sweetheart, ya do good work for us, but you're not much of a fighter. So, what's in it for you?"

"Well… I agree with Stain's ideology, and isn't that what the League is about?" You shrugged. "Heroes nowadays are laughable. So few of them actually give a shit about the world around them — just driven by their greed to fill their pockets and flaunt in the limelight. Don't you think it's fucking stupid to expect payment for saving a life?"

Dabi grunted in agreement, taking another gulp of alcohol. "So many false heroes… they need to be knocked down their pretty, little pedestals."

"But… if I may be honest," you sighed, "I wouldn't have joined if I wasn't asked."

Dabi looked at you with a quirked eyebrow; his curiosity was piqued. "Really, now?"

You nodded. "I agreed to join because I agree with the League's core ideals, but I wouldn't have gone out of my way to join otherwise. As much as I want to see the downfall of heroes, I have my own goal to strive for."

"And that is…?"

"There's this hero — I want to fucking ruin his life," you said, and Dabi didn't miss the way you spat the sentence. There was so much bitterness in your tone.

"Got a personal grudge, huh? So, who's the lucky man," Dabi asked.

It took a moment for you to answer. You eventually looked him dead in the eye; Dabi could see a dark glint in yours, one that he's seen far too often in his own — one of pure hatred.

"Endeavor."

Dabi had no comment; he couldn't think of anything to say. He felt his lips twitch, a large and sinister grin threatening to break out across his features. You wanted to see the downfall of his father, and Dabi couldn't describe the contentment he felt. 

In the end, he ended up offering a small smirk. How could he not? He wouldn't say it out loud — both his pride and anxiety prevented him from admitting it — but he felt as though he had an ally. 

Unbeknownst to you, you'd become his ally, much like you once were during his youth.

It felt nice.

"I can't fucking stand him," you said. "Every time I see his face, every time I hear someone speak his name, praise him for his heroism — I just want to vomit."

"Understandable," Dabi said. "He's amongst the worst examples of a hero. A man driven by obsession and greed."

He needed to stop himself. Dabi could go off into a tangent of resentment when it came to the subject of his father, but by doing so, he risked giving himself away.

"Glad you see it too, Dabi," you said. "I know what he's like behind closed doors, and it makes me sick to know that someone as disgusting as him receives so much praise. This isn't about me; I couldn't care less of the dirty looks and insults he gave me. My hatred stems from the way he treated his children, his wife — absolutely despicable. Especially to… what he did to…" you trailed off.

"Ah… you have a history with the Todoroki family? Aren't you full of surprises, doll?" Dabi said, though it was a complete lie; he wasn't one bit surprised, having been there himself.

"I do." 

You left it at that. Your face had softened, as did your tone. 

"As much as I'd love to see him dead, I want to torture him first. I want to ruin his name and expose him for everything he's done. I want to sit back and watch him desperately try to restore his reputation, only to fail miserably. I want him to become a laughingstock, an example of what one shouldn't become. I want everybody to see him for the vile piece of shit he is and lose all respect and trust for him. And I'll be more than happy to watch him lose his shit, slowly lose his sanity as the days go by until he's nothing but a broken man with nothing left," you rambled.

It had a nice ring to it, watching his old man fade into nothingness. For a man like Endeavor, it would be a fate worse than death. Dabi would then be more than happy to put him out of his misery.

Dabi couldn't help the sinister chuckle that escaped him. He reached out for you, ruffling your hair, which elicited a quiet grunt of surprise from you.

"You know what, doll? I would kill to see Endeavor's fall. Wouldn't that be so satisfying?" Dabi said. "Let's take him down, make the world realize just how worthless he is. What would happen when everybody realizes that, all this time, they've put their trust in garbage? How humiliating."

"Dabi?"

"If I'm in the League, it's because I plan to make Stain's will a reality. Endeavor's fall would be one of our greatest victories. False heroes, they need to be eliminated," Dabi said.

You smiled. "Agreed."

"You have a head on your shoulders, (Y/N). You're not childish like Shigaraki. I like that, sweetheart. I don't care what Shigaraki wants — never have. So, let's create a new future," Dabi said.

Dabi liked the way your eyebrows furrowed as your expression turned into one of pure determination. With the way you held his gaze, words weren't needed. It was like you silently agreed to become his partner in crime, something Dabi would have never expected. He'd become solitary after Touya's death, and he vowed to run by his own agenda for the remainder of his life.

But…

"(Y/N), what did you do that for?" 

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't have to take the blame for me; you didn't do anything wrong. I don't want to subject you to my father."

"Big talk, coming from the guy who's always dragging me into his messy schemes. Don't worry about it, Touya. I'll always be there for you, even if it means standing up to your father, I promise! We're forever partners in crime; you can't stop me!"

"Thank you, (Y/N). I mean it."

… haven't the two of you always been partners in crime? The years spent apart hadn't changed that dynamic. With your desires to take his old man down, you had kept the promise you made to Touya; you were standing up to his father, no matter the cost.

That night — spent at the bar as you took turns downing the harsh liquor and spewing your desires to create a bright new future — Dabi knew that he had dug himself a deep grave that he wouldn't be able to escape.

He shouldn't be doing this; he shouldn't be letting you close.

But he couldn't resist. When it came to you, he discovered that his hardened facade was weak, prone to crumbling.

When Dabi stepped through the warp gate provided by Kurogiri, he knew that he'd be in for a scolding on your part the moment you caught wind of him in the bar. It was no use trying to hide the fresh wounds that littered his body after that last scouting mission had gone wrong. 

It was instantaneous — the way you sprung from your seat at the bar. Abandoning your conversation with Shigaraki, you gripped at Dabi's sleeve to drag him up to your assigned room so you could tend to his injuries.

He knew what was coming up; it was the same song and dance he'd rehearsed with you so many times now ever since you became the 'official' medic of the group. 

Dabi didn't need you to tell him to lie down on your bed as you got your supplies ready, though before he did so, he shed his coat and shirt, leaving him bare-chested. 

Lying down on your bed, he shot you a smirk as you glared at him, shooting him the dirtiest of looks at the sight of his filthy boots on your sheets.

You pulled up a chair next to your bed, sighing at the sight of the fresh cuts and burns scattered across his torso.

"S'not that bad," he shrugged.

"Dabi, are you kidding? That's one nasty gash you've got there," you said, motioning to the offending wound along his side. "I might need to stitch you up."

You applied gauze to the large wound, applying pressure in hopes to calm the bleeding. While you did so, you reached for a warm cloth you prepared to clean the minor cuts.

Dabi knew that the scolding was brewing inside of you; he could feel it.

"You're—" 

"You're so fucking reckless. You know that, right, Dabiiiii?" He cut you off, poorly imitating your voice, having heard those exact words from you, time and time again.

"Shut up; I'm serious over here. You're gonna get yourself killed someday," you said.

"Aw, is (Y/N) worried about me?" He cooed.

"I'm just saying," you said, avoiding his question.

"How cute," he chuckled. "You know, I've noticed that you don't scold the others nearly as much as me for getting wounded. I'm starting to think you like me, doll."

"Pff. Get off your own dick, Dabs," you said. "Listen, you're one of the most valuable fighters we have. If anything happens to you, we lose a huge portion of our strength."

"Flattering."

You went silent, focusing on the task at hand as you removed the gauze, pleased to see that the bleeding had lessened. Upon further inspection, Dabi could make do without stitches — though barely — so you opted to bandage the area for him.

"I know you're not here to make friends; I'm not either. I just get along with others to avoid conflict," you said.

Dabi glanced at you, a questioning look on his features. However, you hadn't bothered to look back at him, still concentrating on his wounds.

"But… I do feel some connection to you. I don't care if it's one-sided; I do give a shit about you, you know?" You said, reaching for some ointment for his burns.

"Oh, really?" He smirked. "And why is that?"

"I—" you sighed, shaking your head, "you just remind me so much of someone I'm — was close to."

It was eerily quiet in the room. So you did see Touya in him, but you just hadn't associated the two as the same person. And Dabi desperately hoped you would remain oblivious.

The way your voice shook, how it was barely above a whisper — you hadn't gotten over Touya's death, hadn't you? Dabi felt an ounce of pity for you, to have lived for so long with the death of your best friend still lingering in your mind. But on the other hand, he felt some form of twisted contentment settle in his chest. You hadn't forgotten about him; how sweet and loyal of you.

"A friend of yours?" Dabi asked, even though he knew the answer.

You nodded. "Yeah. My best friend, actually. He… he died, God, about a decade ago, I think?"

You didn't say any more, and neither did Dabi. You opted to spread the ointment along Dabi's fresh burns in silence. He'd closed his eyes at some point, relishing in the care you displayed, even going as far as to tend to his old scars.

"Alright, I'm done!" You said rather loudly, jolting Dabi out of his trance.

"Thanks, doll," he said, sitting up.

You nodded before jumping out of your chair and heading towards the door. "Don't mention it, but take it easy, okay?"

You were out the door rather quickly. You seemed troubled, even Dabi could tell as much. Your loud, happy tone you tried to portray was quite obviously fake.

Dabi contemplated whether or not he should give you your space; he shouldn't care as much as he did. 

But, picking up his jacket and shirt from the floor, he got dressed and — against his better judgment — followed after you.

He knew he'd find you on the roof. Both you and Dabi liked to retreat to the area whenever the bar was too crowded. As he ascended the stairs, he wasn't even sure what the hell he'd even say. What could he say? 

But, in a way, he wanted to see if you'd open up to him about your past with Touya, he wanted to hear just how much you missed him. 

Dabi wanted to see just how much you suffered because of him, as twisted as it sounded.

Sure enough, he found you sitting at the edge of the building, a cigarette in one hand as you held your phone with the other. You stared intently at the device, not having noticed his presence.

Dabi approached you, looking over your shoulder, he saw what held your attention so much on your phone.

You were staring at an old photo of you and him when you were younger teens. Dabi was the one who held the phone and had snapped the picture; his tongue was stuck out as he winked at the camera. Your arms were slung around his neck, and you had this huge grin as you smushed your cheek against his.

Shit. You both looked so happy.

"Is that your friend?" Dabi asked.

You jumped, looking back at Dabi in surprise; you obviously hadn't expected him to follow you.

"Dabi… what're you — never mind. Yeah, it is," you said, turning your gaze towards your phone once more. "Touya; that's his name. Touya Todoroki."

Dabi sat next to you. Instinctively, you handed him your cigarette, letting him take a drag.

"Need to vent, doll?" Dabi asked as he exhaled smoke.

"Do you really care that much?" You asked.

"Humour me."

It took you some time to gather your thoughts, trying to figure out where you wanted to start. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you had to say about Touya. You had so many pent up feelings that you needed out.

"My family always told me that I should get rid of his pictures, that I had to move on. Constantly keeping those photos, even after changing phones, was keeping me from moving on is what they said. I guess they were right, in a way, but I just don't have the heart to do that. These photos are all I have left of him in physical form."

How wrong you were about that, Dabi thought.

"Besides, even if I got rid of them, I probably wouldn't have moved on. A guy like Touya… you don't just forget about him," you rambled. "I think a part of me died with him. I just lost my shit when I lost him. He meant the world to me." 

"Sounds like you were close," Dabi said.

"We were. We went to the same schools, and despite his father's protests, we grew up together," you said before laughing softly. "You know, I like to think that, whenever we were together, we shared the same, singular brain cell. We were a duo of absolute morons."

Dabi chuckled, silently agreeing that the two of you had indeed been — once upon a time — terrors. You were known for your pranks on fellow classmates and teachers. Hell, you'd pull pranks on one another, Dabi being the one to do it the most. 

You had more restraint than he did; Dabi had always been a smug daredevil, acting invincible at all times. He'd get himself in all sorts of tough spots, but no matter what he did, you were always right by his side to patch him up and scold him for being reckless.

Huh. It seemed like you still did that nowadays.

"One of my favourite things to do was get him flustered. Touya, especially during his teen years, had that tough, edgy and smug guy kind of attitude, so watching him lose it was beautiful. All I had to do was whip out this cute, embarrassing nickname I gave him back when we were kids," you said.

Dabi cringed, remembering damn well what the nickname was. "Which was?"

You giggled. "Toto."

Dabi had to resist the urge to crawl into a corner and die at the sound of the horrendous nickname. But at the same time, it made him feel nostalgic.

"Well, if I were him, I'd attempt to kill you for that name," Dabi said. "You can get away with 'Dabs' in private, but nothing more."

"Aw, and here I was thinking about calling you 'Dab Dab'," you teased.

"No."

You scrolled to the next photo in your gallery, though it wasn't a photo, it was a video. Pressing play, Dabi soon realized that it was a video of him running away from you throughout the school's hallways. He had stolen your phone that day to fill your gallery with silly pictures and videos.

"Touya, I swear to God! When I catch you—"

"Aw, fuck. If (Y/N) catches me, I'm a dead man."

Touya turned the camera to face him; he had this shit-eating grin as he laughed his ass off. Despite the shakiness of the camera, there were instances where your fuming form could be seen chasing after Touya.

"Too bad you're a slow runner, (Y/N)," Touya called out.

"Fuck you!"

"When?"

As Dabi watched the video, he could see a faint reflection of himself on your screen, overlapping his past self. Even though he knew exactly what he'd gone through to get to where he was, Dabi still couldn't help but ask himself: what happened?

You paused the video, turning off your phone. "Is it weird that I like to play that video every once in a while just to hear his voice?"

"Not really. We might be villains, but we're still human. He was important to you, and you lost him. 'Sides, different people grieve differently," Dabi said.

"Wise words coming from you, of all people," you chuckled.

"Whatever," he huffed.

"D'you have someone like that too, Dabi?" You asked.

He gazed at you for a second or two before turning his attention back to the night sky. Of course he did — two, actually. Yourself and his mother. "I guess you can say that."

"Yeah, Touya and I had a lot of fun together; we were inseparable," you said, smiling. Though that smile quickly turned solemn. "But… things weren't always peachy."

"Because of Endeavor?" Dabi asked.

You nodded. "Touya got a lot of shit from his dad for hanging out with me, or wasting his time with me."

Dabi's fingers gripped at the edge of the building, growing fidgety as you brought him back to his childhood.

He remembered just how much his father opposed the relationship. He remembered the handprint that lingered on his face for the next few days when he attempted to vehemently defend you. And of course, Dabi remembered how you cried when you found out what happened. You felt guilty, apologizing profusely as if you were at fault, but you weren't the one who had laid a hand on him.

No, you were the one to apply ice to his throbbing, overheating cheek while you ran your nails through his hair, whispering comforting words to him.

You never hurt him. You weren't like him.

No, you had always been his moral support. You did everything to keep him comfortable while his sanity was slowly crumbling. Dabi remembered the nights where he snuck out of his house to go to yours; no matter the hour, you'd let him in and vent.

"Touya's dad had drilled into his head that he'd surpass All Might himself, but really, this was just Endeavor trying to pin his selfish desires onto his son. I realize this now that I'm older," you looked at Dabi. "So you can only imagine how torn he was when his father deemed him a failure. But still, he was so stubborn that he still kept trying to make his dad proud."

Dabi knew you were looking at him, but he couldn't bear to spare you a glance. You were, unknowingly, walking him down a traumatic lane of memories.

"There were particularly bad nights where Touya came to me and cried. He just cried and cried while hugging me and mumbling until he passed out," you said; your voice was shaking.

"What's wrong with me, (Y/N)?" Touya asked, voice muffled by your chest. "Why'd he throw me away like that? I was supposed to… to…."

"Touya I — shit, I'm so sorry. I can't believe Enji would stoop so low. Listen to me: there is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?"

"I'm trying so hard, but it's not enough," he cried. "He barely looks at me anymore; it's all Shouto."

"He's so wrong to treat you like this; you shouldn't let him treat you like this. You're his son, for crying out loud, not an object! Touya, you're amazing… you're so wonderful," you said, trying to hold back your tears.

"Then… why?"

Dabi felt the urge to vomit; if he'd still be able to cry, he might have shed a few tears at the memories. His fingers still gripped at the concrete, nearly shattering his nails at the brute force.

"Maybe I should have tried harder to comfort him," you said.

Dabi snapped out of his trance, looking at you with a shocked expression. Your eyes had glossed over, lips pressed into a thin line as you did your damndest to hold back your tears.

"Maybe I could have done more to help. Maybe if I had, he wouldn't have pushed himself so hard and… and — fuck, Dabi, I miss him so much," you said in a broken voice. 

"If you ask me, you did everything you could," Dabi said. "Sounds like you were the one person he felt he could trust. That's gotta count for something, don't ya think, sweetheart?"

You nodded. "I guess, but I—"

Dabi cut you off. "What could you have done more? He was probably too far gone. But… I'm sure he died knowing you did everything you could for him."

"I know you're right," you sighed before laughing rather bitterly. "I know this is gonna sound hella cheesy, but I wish I got the chance to tell him that I'm in love with him."

Dabi froze; how had he not picked up on it in the past? And your phrasing — the way you spoke in the present tense instead of the past — made you sound like you were still in love. But, it was Touya you were in love with, not Dabi.

He sighed. "Hey, listen, doll. If it makes you feel better: I feel that if he were still alive, he'd return your feelings."

"You think so?" You asked.

To your surprise, Dabi offered you a smile. It was a small one, but it was one of the most genuine smiles you'd ever seen from him. 

He looked up at the night sky, scratching at the back of his neck and pondering what to say. He wanted to choose his words wisely.

But who was he kidding?

Back then, he definitely noticed how his heart would flutter at the sight of your smile, how his hand would become clammy whenever you held it. Your presence was his safe haven; he'd crave your comfort and touch as it'd melt away the stress he felt.

Maybe Dabi should have told you as well, back then.

He brought his hand back down to his lap, turning to you once more to make eye contact.

"I know so."

You couldn't explain the chill that shot down your spine, but those three little words from Dabi released the floodgates you'd been holding in the entire conversation.

Covering your mouth, you turned away from his intense gaze as tears streamed down your face, body shaking as you hiccuped. "I…"

"(Y/N)?" A voice called out.

Both you and Dabi turned around, finding Spinner standing at the doorway. 

"Am I interrupting anything?" He asked, though his gaze flicked between you and Dabi; he obviously had a wary look as he studied your tear-streaked face, shooting an accusing glare at Dabi.

"W-We're just chatting, no worries. I just got upset over something; it's not Dabi's fault," you said, furiously wiping at your tears.

"Okay then," he said, still wary. "Well, when you have a moment, Shigaraki and Kurogiri need your help. Something about gathering information on some heroes' weaknesses?"  

You nodded. "Okay, I'll be right there."

You stood up and began following after Spinner, but before you did, you peaked behind your shoulder.

"Dabi?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you," you said with a smile.

Dabi nodded in acknowledgement, waving you off in a 'don't mention it' gesture. You chuckled at his mannerism, not asking more out of him; he'd already done so much. 

"See you in a bit," you called out before leaving to join the boss downstairs.

Left alone, Dabi sighed. A part of him was content. You seemed just a bit more at peace, so perhaps he'd offered you a bit of closure. The other part of him knew that your suffering was his fault, and that it was wrong of him to do so to you.

His goal wasn't to harm you, but he found himself digging himself deeper with every passing day. But, how did one come clean about a fake death? How would you react? Would you be angry? Relieved?

Touya had indeed died, but not in the way you thought.

He didn't want to lose you a second time, and he someday planned to tell you that his feelings for you were still there; they'd transferred from Touya to Dabi, but he hadn't been aware until your unlikely reunion.

But until you moved on from Touya, Dabi had to bite his tongue on the matter.

Support me, maybe? 🥺

[doctorknightley]

Knightley raised a brow at the description she gave of herself, her optimism might have fallen, though in a town like this he couldn't really blame her. Tame though, he chuckled alongside her, that seemed like a stretch but anything was possible he supposed. He was mildly surprised when she said she trusted him, if a little touched by the sentiment. "Zarina is better prepared than most people, as well as more intelligent," his tone was casual, in his mind he wasn't stating an opinion, just a fact. "I don't expect you not to worry, but she's the most capable person I know at being able to handle herself in any given situation." He felt a faint flush on his cheeks, having rambled a bit more than he usually would. "On the bright side, she's met you, Hank, and Halley. I don't think you have anything to blame yourself over, but you should at least take some credit for the four of you being able to reconnect." Hearing his watch beep, he glanced at it before giving her an apologetic smile, "That's my cue, it was good to see you Morgan. I hope the rest of your morning goes well."

Morgan laughed at his reaction. "Yeah...trust me, before my husband passed I was a mostly optimistic and tame kind of woman," she chuckled, shaking her head. She only started getting active as a way to put her grief and anger somewhere. She nodded slowly, listening to his story of his arrival. She did think most people had good things to say about the commune, but then there was always people like the mayor saying things to the contrary that had Morgan always wondering. "That makes sense, it's a relief to hear it from someone I can trust at least, I know whatever's left of politics in this town don't always see eye to eye, so it's hard to know what's true. I just really want my daughter to stay safe...getting stuck in this town to find us, it just feels like my fault," she sighed.

[symptoms-syndrome]

Syscourse (mildly?)

TBH I think that if "plurality" in the form of not-DID (or not exclusively DID?) was more? IDK if it was allowed to be more of a thing online. I honestly think it would improve my experience as someone who does not identify as "plural." I think it would allow people who have alter funtimes and anime introjects who want moodboards and fandom talk etc to have like. A space to express that while DID stuff could be more? Focused I guess? And more broadly applicable maybe? Hard to phrase it. I just think that like. I hear a lot of people feel excluded for either being like. Too "plural" (lots of introjects, want to talk about fun alter stuff, etc) or not "plural" enough (ppl who use exclusively parts language, ppl who are not open about their disorder, etc) and I think it's because, a lot of the time we're lumping a lot of very different expressions and perspectives on something that's vaguely sort of the same/similar and it's frustrating for everyone.

Like. Imagine if every LGBTQ event was just. Broadly LGBTQ. No more "LGBTQ in STEM" workshops or "LGBTQ student unions" just. "LGBTQ group." Like that would be frustrating. Gay drag performers don't have the same needs as gay rocket scientists. Yeah we have some needs in common, and those can be covered by broad. Gay events, but like the additional categories/labels can def. Help focus things to people's needs and wants. Like in this case it wouldn't be doing away with the entire idea of "LGBTQ" stuff it would just be like...adding those extra modifiers. LGBTQ scientists. LGBTQ craftspeople. LGBTQ students. They're all LGBTQ they just have diff lives and stuff.

And I think that smth like "plural" could be rly useful in that way. Like if someone has DID and identifies as plural they can use the plural label for, for lack of a better term, "fun stuff" while the DID label/tag/etc would be more focused on. The actual disorder I guess.

These are just ramblings TBH. Bc I just want. Helpful DID stuff and content and relatable whatever and I just. Get frustrated by what feels like an extremely different experience feeling like it's the only one talked abt online I guess. Like I guess I want a more "pure" online DID space. It's not that I don't think people should have those experiences and they're not "invalid" or whatever they're just not my thing? And not relatable to me? So I wish there was a way to gently be like. Not my thing but here's a diff place to do that bc I do think ppl deserve to express those things. I just don't want...all of DID to be just those sorts of things. IDK IDK IDK.

But on the other hand there's def ppl who are extremely annoying about "DID is HELL you are NOT ALLOWED to enjoy ANY part of DID!!! >:((( No fun allowed" and that's not what I'm trying to say either. Like I am of the sentiment that I don't particularly enjoy any part of my DID and would rather it be gone but I'm happy for ppl who don't feel that way.

Anyway. I h8 syscourse but I do want somewhat of a more. Clinical perspective sometimes and IDK where to find that.