#I don’t want to get antis yelling at me

[rogers-the-musical]

You know what’s cool?

When Peggy finds out that she is Steve’s moral compass, it’s not because Steve doesn’t have a compass. It’s because their strengths work together. It’s that Steve has that drive, and so much goodness, he just doesn’t know Where to put it. He knows what he wants to do, just not always HOW to do it.

Then Peggy comes in, with so much faith and goodness and desperately wanting to believe better of the world, but she just can’t. Until she sees Steve. And then that goodness, that desire to believe, turns to faith: and Peggy, with all that inside her, is inspired by Steve and his desire to do right, to do good. And she uses her knowledge of the world, her intelligence, and that inspiration to help him know what the right direction is. That’s why she’s his moral compass-not because she’s any better than he is, but because she points him in the most logical direction. And lucky for Steve, that’s a direction motivated by the same faith and morality that he has.

And that’s what makes them such a special pair. It’s not about Steve not getting that last dance or Peggy being left alone, without her super-powered romance; it’s about two people who literally and figuratively lift each other up and drive each other to new heights. And they each end up doing the same even after they’re torn apart.

I know a lot of Bucky fans are disappointed at how Steggy oriented Rogers the Musical is. And I love Bucky. And while he is a driving force in Steve’s life, and the most important familial relationship he has left, Peggy is the one continuously driving him to do things. She is the one to convince him that he was “meant for more than this”, and is constantly planting seeds; guiding him. Bucky is the force that tips the action, and why wouldn’t he be? He’s his best friend. But Peggy is constantly lifting and pointing him in the right direction, believing in him to do great things. Without her influence, we wouldn’t have captain America. Without her influence, Steve may have folded to the government during civil war. (And before you attack me, I said MAY. He may have just compromised, but he definitely wouldn’t have stood his ground as firmly). So, do I believe this to be a more important relationship than hers with Bucky? Slightly. Bucky’s still an extremely important person to him, but in terms of where he wants to go and where he’s going, Peggy is the most influential person, and she IS literally where he wants to be.

This is why I’m shocked the were even going to have him move on to Sharon in the first place (though I do understand a person has to move on) Not because there’s anything wrong with her, but because it could never make up for the special relationship he lost-whether it was Sharon, Natasha, any other ship.

#Steggy #Peggy Carter #Steve Rogers #Rogers: the musical #Not sure whether or not to tag Bucky in this #I don’t want to get antis yelling at me #but this is a very important relationship to Steve #yes I know Peggy got one of Bucky’s lines in RTM #but a worker came out and said it was literally because they couldn’t fit it in with Bucky saying it

[bicheetopuff]

“bAkuDEkU iS cRap… dEaL wiTh iT” *mic drop**leaves*

*scrambles back on stage to pick up the mic and runs away so no one can respond*

Honestly I don’t even care. Your opinion is your opinion but I just thought it was funny how angry this person got over a tag and then proceeded to block me. Like why say it if you’re too much of a coward to wait for a response?💀

I’m a nice person I won’t bite <3

#bakudeku #bkdk #I find it so weird how people get legitimately angry at bkdk as a ship #and then use the fact that it’s not canon as a rebuttal #like you think I don’t know that? #you think that’s gonna make me sad or something? tf? #like okay my body is cleansed from homosexuality and I believe in bkdk no more #is that what you want?💀 #also yes I agree bkdk is the shit #positive #also I really am nice to antis most of the time #I don’t like yelling #I really only get mean when my moots get attacked

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Hi! I love your blog so much. I was hoping you could write what yandere!batfam would do if the reader just barricaded themselves in a room and does everything to make sure batfam can't get in. I hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog, and I am absolutely going to do a snippet for this!

Warnings: (implied) hunger striking, captivity, themes of obsession, violence, and threats of restraints as well as physically restraining someone.

“You know that’s only going to hold us out for so long, right?”

It’s Jason. You don’t respond, keeping silent. It was just another trick, you knew, to get you to open the door.

Not that they only needed a door. You’d shoved the massive bookcase in front of the window, shoving your bed in front of it. Your desk, and the final bookshelf, had gone to block the door.

You had no doubt it wouldn’t hold them long. It just had to hold them long enough.

“Come on, kid, think about this. Open the door, and I’ll try and talk the old man down from taking the damn door off it’s hinges.”

You hiss softly in alarm, because you had thought Bruce was gone. You thought he was away, in Nepal, in a business trip. Otherwise there was no possible way you would have been able to pull this off, you knew.

“You didn’t know the old man was back? He got a call from Dickiebird, he’s on his way to the Manor as we speak, kid. You really want him to start breaking down the door? He will, you know it.”

You keep quiet, fingers buried in the soft carpet, and try to focus. Try to breath. Bruce being here changed things. Dick being here changed things.

“Who’s all in the Manor?”

You manage to croak out, and Jason pauses.

“Not sure I should be telling you that, kid. I’ll cut you a deal, though. Tell me why you’re pulling out the anti-siege tactics and I’ll tell you some names.”

You shake your head, before you remember that Jason couldn’t see you. That was fine.

“No deal.”

You weren’t going to be explaining to them that you felt suffocated, more often than not. That they were always there, constantly hovering, a hand on your shoulder or an arm linked around yours. That you had so little agency that you felt you were going insane, on a good day.

“Then guess you’re gonna be in the dark. Head up, though. Golden Boy’s pissed.”

That manages to rip the air from your lungs. Dick was scary as hell when he got angry, scary enough that out of all your siblings captors, his anger would immediately send you into a near frenzy. He got fucking mean when he was mad, and he knew how to use his words to cut to the bone.

“What and you aren’t?” You taunt, frantically trying to stop the way your heart thunders in your ears and the way your blood pulses in your veins.

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Pissed enough I’m keeping this door between the two of us, because I don’t want to traumatize ya.” It’s- it’s almost cheerful, the way he says it, so matter of fact, but the words are phrased in a way that you know they’re true. Every syllable is tense and clipped, not quite grit out and hidden behind the easygoing bluster.

“Yeah, well, I’m also pretty into keeping the door between us.” You snap, because you are impulsive and dumb and holy shit you did not think this through.

You hear the faintest sound from Jason, and when he speaks again, his voice is sharp, sharp enough you cringe back and try not to panic.

“I fucking bet, you brat. What exactly are you planning to get out of this, huh? Planning on going on a hunger strike or something?”

The door rattles in the frame, and you yelp, alarmed.

A sigh, and when Jason speaks again, it’s softer. Cajoling.

“Listen. Bruce and Golden Boy are gonna be here soon. We can do this two ways. You either open the door, apologize to me for being an absolute menace and driving me insane, or it gets busted down, and you leave the room anyways, except with a lot more yelling and a lot higher chance of Bruce not letting you out of his sight for months. Literally.”

You bite your lip, hands fisted in the rug.

“I’m not opening the door, Jason.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You hear his footsteps leave. For a second, you take a moment to breathe, air whistling between your teeth, the AC loud in the quiet room.

“Open the door.”

You jump, nearly leaping a foot in the air, and the startled sound dies in your chest, eyes wide.

Bruce. Bruce was on the other side of the door, right now, and he was pissed. Pissed enough that his voice had that gravelly, rough quality it got when he was being stern and already mad as hell but trying not to show it.

“No.”

Your voice sounds small, even to you. You try to ignore it.

The door rattles on it’s hinges. It seemed, with a locked door and several heavy oak dressers between you and him, he was determined to move both. It rattles again, this time louder, and you shriek in alarm when the desk creaks. How fucking hard was Bruce hitting it?

“(Y/N), unless you want me to break this door down, open the door.” Bruce sighs after he speaks, and then breathes in, like he was trying to calm himself down.

“I know you’re scared right now. But just open the door and come out, and we can talk about why you did this, okay? I’m sorry I frightened you.”

You feel tears prick at the side of your face, feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the fear. You want to shake your head.

You don’t say anything, and he sighs again.

This time, it’s not just the door that rattles. The desk shudders, straining against the weight thrown against it, and the shelf creaks, then sways.

You’re smart enough to back up and away before it comes crashing down. Not that you don’t doubt Bruce knew you were away from the shelf, or he never would have risked toppling the heavy thing.

When he ducks through the doorway, picking his way over the shattered desk and shelf, you back away, hands trembling. He pauses.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you come over here so we can clean the mess up, and we can talk about this in a bit? Just take a breath, okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. It makes some of the anger drain from his features, that you weren’t hurt, but you don’t get any closer and his lips press into a thin line.

“(Y/N). Come here.”

It’s stern. It reminds you of the same voice he uses every time you try and escape or fight with your siblings. It makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes flick to the door, and Dick, who was standing not far from the door way, sharp blue eyes watching you for any movement.

You make your decision, swallow, and ease forward.

Warm arms wrap around you the second you’re in reach, pressing you against Bruce’s chest, and you feel a bit of the tension in his shoulders unwind, just barely.

“This isn’t happening again, (Y/N). Do you understand me? What if you had gotten hurt, when the shelf came down? What if you had gotten hurt when you were in here and couldn’t say anything?”

Bruce was pissed, and he grips you tightly, tightly enough that you squirm in his hold, which only makes him grip you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself hurt! It’s practically an empty room half the time, what could I have hurt myself with?”

God, you hated it when your mouth ran faster than your thoughts.

“That’s not what matters.” Dick cuts in. “The issue is that you could’ve, and we couldn’t have done anything about it!”

He pissed, practically spitting out the words, and you can hear Bruce’s frown.

“Dick, you need to calm down.”

“No! This is the fifth time this month they’ve tried something, you have to do something, Bruce! It’s stressing everyone out!”

You open your mouth to argue, ready to defend yourself because you hadn’t asked for any of this, but Bruce speaks before you can.

“I will.”

And suddenly you are far more preoccupied with trying to prevent Bruce from picking you up, twisting and squirming to get away, but he catches you easily. He presses you against him, this time the action restraining, and lifts, taking your feet off the ground.

The entire trip through the Manor, you are twisting and pushing against him, trying to escape. You nearly get close, once, when he was adjusting his hold and you had snapped your teeth at him, but Dick had lurched froward for a moment and it had startled you so badly that you had frozen, giving him time to readjust.

You’re dumped on a medical cot, and when you see the straps on either side, it nearly takes the both of them to hold you down long enough to get them on. Bruce looks pained the entire time, as you kick and flail, and when they’re both done, your arms are strapped securely enough that yanking on them does nothing.

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bruce frowns, and then sighs, moving the cot. You’re moved with it, and you glare. “This is only temporary until we find a more permanent solution, (Y/N). Until we can trust you not to be a danger to yourself, alright? It won’t last long.”

Dick doesn’t look like he agrees.

You don’t either.

#yandere platonic batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere platonic x reader #yandere platonic batfam #yandere dick Grayson #yandere Bruce Wayne #yandere Jason Todd

[boldlygoingtohell]

In a weird way, as a Jew, I can kinda take Normal Antisemitism™️.

I mean, I understand where right-wing racists are coming from when it comes to their antisemitism. At the end of the day, theirs just comes from fear, replacement theory, etc… It’s easily identifiable. 2+2=4. Yea its shitty, but I see how they got from A to B and it’s a straight line.

But left-wing antisemitism?? Like, how does that happen? I thought the left was about supporting minority groups, encouraging them to speak and be heard. But all I’m seeing from leftists these days (I myself being super fucking liberal, left, etc…) is just waves and waves of antisemitism. And yes it has to do with Israel, but these people are incapable of criticizing the Israeli government without going “all Jews are responsible!” in the process. It's infuriating.

Are all the the world’s Jews, millions of which live OUTSIDE of Israel, now responsible for Israel’s actions? I'M a stupid American! I’ve never even BEEN to Israel, much less know the intricate details of a geo-political conflict whose complexities go willfully unlearned by armchair activists in favor of yelling in all caps for 140 characters.

But what really gets me, and I mean REALLY get me about the whole situation, is the hypocrisy.

Remember how awful it was when we saw waves of Islamophobic hate crimes after 9/11, American Muslims with no ties to al-Qaeda being targeted for the faith those terrorists claimed to represent?

Or do you remember standing against the wave of anti-Asian hate crimes that was spurned on by COVID falsehoods? The “China virus” as Trump so eloquently put it? You remember being pissed about that, not blaming Asian Americans but standing with them against hate?

And hell, I’ve heard there has been a rash of Islamophobic attacks again because of the Israeli-Gaza conflict. That’s fucking awful, and I will stand against that bull shit because it does not belong here, end of story.

But now there are also antisemitic attacks, hate crimes, being perpetrated around the world. And who are the perpetrators now? The left that stood against everything else. There's no widespread ally-ship for Jews like me. There's no sweeping social media campaign, no catchy hashtag, no ice bucket challenge.

Why am I allowed to be condemned for what a country on the other side of the world is doing, when I have nothing to do with it? Why can I have the finger pointed at me when I don’t want the fighting in the first place? Why must Jews be allowed to be the target of this ire when it's already been decided that other ethnicities/religions don't deserve it either?

Now, I am PROUD to be Jewish; it is my culture, in my heritage, in my literal blood. It is in my genetics, my bones, my spoken language, it is in the holidays I celebrate, the philosophies I live by.

But it is also in the generational trauma of my mother insisting I have a passport as a young child, not because we were traveling, but in case we had to flee. It is in her inherent distrust of the government; a card-carrying Democrat all her life, she would always remind me, "if you don't think the government can't turn on you, you're kidding yourself." It is her constant reminders that as a Jew, our assimilation is conditional, our acceptance is political. I felt these, but never as strongly as she did. Not until now.

I am third generation American, and yet I feel like an outsider in the only country I have ever known. People who I thought understood, who were my friends, who marched with me against the injustices of the world, are now calling after Jews to answer for Israel's actions.

I say I don't want the violence to persist and I'm told that I'm, "one of the good ones". I'm told hurt Israelis don't deserve sympathy because, "all Jews are rich anyway, right? Who cares." I tell them my fears about the rising antisemitism and wearing my star of david necklace out. I'm told, "it doesn't matter, you're white anyway."

For the first time in my life, the racists aren't just some crazy KKK members. They're not just Nazis marching around with beer bellies and ill fitting helmets. It's not just some screeching street preacher who claims I'm going to hell after he caught the glint off my star of david necklace. If needs be, I can kick and punch my way out of those. They're just idiots. Isolated, concentrated incidents. It'd be a good story to tell at a bar the next day though a gap-toothed smile and a sling on my shoulder.

But now, both sides are coming after me and my people. Now, it's not just idiots who have all of their views backwards; it's people I thought I could trust to have my back, to go down swinging with me against those Nazis. Right. Left. It's everywhere. There's no escape.

It's coming from all sides. It's coming from social media platforms, from dinners with friends, from posters on street lamps.

I live in one of the safest, most Jewish neighborhoods in America, and for the first time in my life I am truly scared.

#jumblr #antisemitism #judaism #jewish #I'm just so tired of it all #I wasn't an anxious person before this #racism #long post I guess #can we go back to the days of punching Nazis? #life was simple

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 5

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: We’re setting things up, baby!! I’m not sure about this part tbh. It’s been a bit since I updated, so hopefully the length of this will make up for it!! 💕

Warnings: slight drinking, mentions of sex, I almost had someone order a sweet tea before I remembered that doesn’t exist much outside the south

(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (masterlist)

It was quite impressive, really, how Rhysand took half an hour to eat his bowl of cereal just to piss off his brother. Azriel was pacing, wanting to see you as soon as possible. Truthfully he had been waiting since you left their apartment that morning, inviting him and Rhys to come out with you and Feyre.

Azriel thinks he deserves an award for the patience he’s harboring over Rhys’s movements.

They eventually walk into your apartment, much to Rhys’s delight, to find you and Cassian bickering in your kitchen over his inability to turn the tv off at night.

“Cassian, please, stop leaving the tv on at night. I woke up at 3 in the morning and was blinded by the idle Netflix screen.”

“I’ll try, but it’s a big ask. You want me to find the remote when I’m very sleepy and just shut it off?”

“Uh, yeah that’s what I said,” you respond, leaning against the counter, waving to Rhys and Az. Rhys elects not to comment at the way you perk up at the sight of his brother. “Somehow I don’t think it’ll be the end of the world.”

Cassian mumbles out, “I’ll try,” before acknowledging his brothers. Him and Rhys start talking about something but your phone vibrates, distracting you from their conversation.

Feyre: I’m here

“Awesome, Fey’s here - let’s go.”

The four of you head down, taking the elevator down. Cassian thought about pushing all the buttons, but he knew it was a surefire way to find an axe imbedded in the side of his head within the hour.

You all head down to the parking lot, spotting Feyre leaning against her car. The second you point it out Cassian yells, “shotgun!”

You retort back, “how old are you again?”

Cassian responds, having reached the passenger door, “the laws of shotgun are anti-discriminatory, they’re not bound by age.”

You roll your eyes at him, as Azriel holds the door open for you to get into the back. You sit in the middle seat, squished between Azriel and Rhys. And if you lean further into Azriel, his thighs pressed against yours, that’s between you and Feyre’s silver prius.

The five of you walk in and find the place nearly empty. After signing consent forms and paying, you notice that there’s a bar. You and Cassian immediately get drinks, a beer and a seagram’s, and head over to the lane the owner told you to go to.

“Maybe having alcohol and an axe to throw isn’t a great idea,” you mutter, taking a sip anyway.

Cassian saunters up first, putting his beer down before grabbing the axe.

“I’m sure I’ll be a natural at this,” he tells you all, before swinging the axe back and throwing it, all of you watching as it bounces off of the target.

You snicker, but it’s Rhys who says what you’re all thinking. “Mmm, a natural. I see it.”

You all take turns in the two lanes provided, throwing a few times until eventually you all get the hang of it.

Rhys and Azriel fare much better than Cassian with their initial throws, but you and Feyre were struggling for a while, until eventually you guys began keeping score as you went. Feyre began shooting better, telling everyone that she just “needed a few practice swings in”.

In between your turns, you kept finding yourself next to Azriel, joking and poking fun at everyone else’s shooting. You were too busy with Azriel to notice Feyre and Rhys swapping phone numbers as Cassian was throwing.

Cassian turned from the lane, noticing both of his brothers having paired off with girls. He’s slightly annoyed at the fact that no one congratulated him on his bullseye. He places the ax back where it belongs and clamps down on Azriel’s shoulder as he sits next to him.

“Your turn,” Cassian grins. Azriel wants to object, peeferring to stay in your company, but decides against it, walking over to throw. You turn to watch him, but Cassian starts speaking.

“So you have the hots for my brother,” he says, voice low, causing you to choke on your drink. You turn to him, spluttering as he looks at you expectantly.

“Uh, Rhys is very nice but I don’t-“

Cassian’s raised hand interrupts you. “Not that one, sweets.”

You debate whether or not you should deny it, but Cassian looks at you and you sigh. You start ripping the label off your drink and nod your head just slightly.

Cassian grabs his beer and stands up. He looks at you over his shoulder before saying, “I think it’s mutual.”

You don’t have time to mull over his words. Your phone buzzes, and pulling it out, you see Mor’s contact lighting your screen. You answer, putting the phone to your ear. Az sits back down next to you, watching you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi sweetie,” Mor’s smooth voice crackles over the phone. “Do you wanna get dinner?”

Az looks over at you, the sound of Mor’s voice familiar to him.

“Uh I’m out with Feyre, Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel.”

Mor huffs, “without me? You go out with my favorite guys and don’t invite me?”

You scratch the back of your head at her admonishment, “uh well it was kinda spur of the moment.”

Az takes a sip of his water as he watches you on the phone, curious about your friendship with Mor. He knew Mor somewhat well, actually. Rhysand brought her around fairly often, and Cassian brought her around somewhat regularly. He can’t believe the blonde would hide you away from them for so long and why she especially wouldn’t try to set the two of you up at some point.

Mor was, above all, convinced she was a matchmaker. No one escaped her clutches of trying to pair people up.

“Okay, whatever. I’ll forgive you if all of you come out to dinner with me tonight.”

You laugh, “ah a guilt trip. Where should we meet you? And when?”

Mor thinks for a minute, “meet me at that Mexican restaurant out on Main street. In an hour?”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. “Okay, but I can’t guarantee everyone will come. I haven’t asked.”

You know she’s rolling her eyes as she responds, “just tell them I said pretty please - they’ll come. And tell them that I’ll pay.”

Your eyebrows raise, “are you sure? I live with Cassian - I’ve seen that man eat a rotisserie chicken as a snack.”

“Well I won’t be paying, I’ll put it on my lovely father’s credit card. I’ll consider it payment for that awful dinner a few weeks ago.”

“Well, let me ask them and I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye, love youuuuu,” Mor’s drawn out affections end as you hang up, coming back to your surroundings. Feyre has an axe in her hand, and you hear Rhys cheer as she hits a few feet from the bullseye.

“Do you guys want to get dinner with Mor? She told me she won’t forgive me if you guys don’t come.”

Azriel and Rhys share a look, but you continue. “She did say to tell you all “pretty pleasaaase.” You bat your eyelashes in a fairly spot on impression of Mor, “and that she’s paying.”

Cassian comes up next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Lead with the free food next time, sweetheart.”

Leaving axe throwing behind a bit later, Cassian is grumbling about how Azriel outscored everyone substantially. Rhys leads the group outside and grins at Cassian declaring, “shotgun.”

Cassian huffs but trudges to the back with you and Azriel. The backseat is even more cramped, seeing as Cassian’s thighs could take up a seat of their own. You’re practically having to sit on both of them, and Azriel is pressed against the door to give you as much space as possible.

Between no one paying attention to him during your group outing and the fact that he lost, Cassian was overcome with the need to stir something up, so he turns to you and asks, “the world is ending and you have to sleep with one of us to save the world, who do you pick?”

You turn to Cassian, shock on your face. Azriel perks up in his seat a bit, wanting to hear what you’ll say. Feyre and Rhys even stop their conversation up front to hear.

“What kind of apocalyptic event is this, Cass?”

“A horny one?” He asks, not really sure himself.

You all laugh, “okay so I sleep with one of you and the world is saved?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d pick Feyre. She’d be a gentle lover,” you say, looking towards your friend as she drove. Feyre gives you a wink through the rearview mirror, and Cassian groans.

“Nope, it can’t be Feyre.”

“Well you didn’t say that earlier,” you point out.

“Well I’m saying it now.”

“Why don’t you just tell me the parameters of who I can have sex with to save the world,” you say, a bit exasperated at this imaginary scenario.

“Me, Rhys, and Az.”

“Cassian,” you say, matter of factly, and Azriel feels his heart fall through his chest. He tries to even his breathing so you don’t notice him shattering next to you, but your voice picks up again as Cassian is cheering.

“I wouldn’t have sex with you, even in a world ending event.” You pat his shoulder. “I’d let all of us die before doing that.”

Rhys throws his head back laughing and Cassian crosses his arms, leaning back in the seat, huffing. Azriel smirks slightly, and he notices that you don’t actually answer the question Cassian posed. He also notices your eyes nervously glancing in his direction every few seconds.

The restaurant comes into view as Cassian keeps grumbling, his unanswered question long forgotten. The five of you pile out of the car, and Azriel offers his hand to you to help you get out. His hand is a little cold in yours, but you hold it a little longer than necessary, soaking in the contact.

You all walk up to the front to find Mor aggressively waving her hands at you all, trying to make sure you see her. You chuckle, and Cassian starts waving back just as dramatically.

“It’ll be about 20 minutes,” she tells you all, texting someone. You all hear the ding of Cassian’s phone right as she’s done talking, but none of you point it out.

Mor and Cassian huddle together talking, leaving the four of you to mingle. The presence of both of them and Feyre makes everyone pause, uncertain of what to say. You had never really realized how much easier talking was with Cassian nearby.

Feyre asks, “so what do you guys major in?”

“Computer science,” Azriel says.

“I’m a double major with business and engineering.”

Rhys’s major does not shock you at all. The well-tailored clothing he wears every day do nothing to combat the business major stereotype. The engineering part does, however, surprise you.

Feyre asks him about his classes, and you perk up when he mentions the organic chemistry class you’re a TA for. The two of them keep talking, bur you turn your attention to Azriel.

“Why computer science?” You ask Az, curious. It suits him, you think. It’s easy to see him behind a computer, developing websites.

“I like software development and coding.”

You groan in disgust, “I don’t know how you like coding. I have to do it for a research project and I hate it. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“What about it doesn’t make sense?”

“It’s just like a new language no one taught me.”

“I could help you,” he says, hesitating to be too forward, “if you- if you want, of course.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

The two of you are so enraptured in your conversation you don’t notice the looks Rhys and Feyre are sharing at how obvious the two of you are.

The looks between you and Azriel, and Feyre and Rhys, are interrupted by Mor’s chiming. “It’s ready!”

The six of you walk towards a booth in the back, you, Azriel, and Feyre on one side, Cassian, Mor, and Rhys on the other. The waitress provides you all menus, and before she can walk away Cassian asks for “enough queso to make a grown man cry”.

You’re looking at the menu when Azriel nudges you with his elbow. “You never said what your major was.”

“Oh, uh I’m a biology major.”

“Biology?” He asks, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I really like evolution and ecology. I like the diversity of life.”

“And what is your project that requires coding?”

“Oh- it’s a population survey. For the past two years I’ve been reviewing trail cam footage around the campus for what kinds of animals live on campus.”

His eyebrows raise, “you started research as a sophomore?”

“Yeah, I set up the trail cameras in August that year. They’re in the more woodsy parts of campus or areas where there’s freshwater like the fountains.”

“So you have to view thousands of hours of camera footage?” He sounded genuinely interested in your project, a response you hardly received.

You laugh, “no, it’s motion activated. But it’s still a lot to comb through.”

“If you ever want any company while you do it, I could bring some of my coding assignments and we could just work together.”

You’re about to tell him you’d love to, when the waitress comes by, taking everyone’s drink orders and dropping off chips, salsa, and queso. Cassian, who had been grumbling about how hungry he was, gives his drink order through a mouthful of chips.

After you ask her for a water and a soda, you tell Az, “I’d love that.”

Cassian pulls you into a conversation between himself and Mor, but you do catch a glimpse of the little smile Azriel gives you as you tell Cassian about the time Mor streaked across the football field during a game in high school.

The dinner is fun, made even moreso by Mor picking up the check. You all wish a Mor good night as you head back to Feyre’s car. Once the doors to the restaurant open, Rhys and Cassian yell out, “shotgun,” at the same time, and both begin sprinting to Feyre’s car, pushing each other as they run.

The three of them trudge ahead of you and Azriel, as you two walk in step next to each other. He pulls out his phone, his screen lighting up his face in the night. He turns his phone to you, an empty contact page facing you.

“I-uh just realized I don’t have your number,” he swallows hard, looking down at his phone, watching as your fingers gently grab his phone and begin typing.

He watches you click ‘send message’, watching you type something out before handing it back to him. He chuckles as he reads the message you sent yourself.

Az: oh beautiful, stunning, wonderful woman, thank you for blessing me with your phone number

His phone vibrates in his hand as your response comes through.

You: oh, Az. Flattery will get you very far.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Welcome to Arc 3 of Bring Me Home! 🎉🎉🎉

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fanon-typical violence. This is my dissection fic, but I don't think I crossed the line into graphic. Let me know if you disagree.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

-----

Danny waved goodbye to Sam and Tucker as he made his way home from school. They had a long weekend and he planned to fall into bed and take a long nap. And then maybe grab some midnight tacos as Phantom for dinner.

He hummed as he thought about how awesome those tacos would taste when reached his home. Still lost in his daydreams, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Only for electric pain to shoot up his arm. Danny screamed, paralyzed to the spot. He tried to pull his hand back, but something held him in place. He fell to his knees, arm still held out and radiating pain through the rest of his body.

“What? Danny!”

“M-mom?” he forced out between cries. “Hurts!”

He could feel his transformation tugging on his core and he tried to force it back.

“Jack! Quick, it’s Danny!”

“Please,” begged Danny. Even kneeling was getting to be too much. Blackness was threatening the edges of his vision so he closed his eyes. He had to keep from transforming. He had to.

He didn’t even have the breath to scream anymore.

He heard his dad’s voice. There was a flash of light. And then nothing.

---

The first thing Danny was aware of was that everything hurt. His muscles were aching and his right arm was practically numb. The next thing he noticed was that he way lying on something hard. He tried to roll over, only to realize he was strapped down. And not just at his wrists and ankles, but also at his waist and neck.

His eyes flew open in shock and he yelled in panic. Had Vlad gotten him?

“It’s awake, Mads!”

Orange filled his vision as his dad leaned over him.

“D-dad?” asked Danny. He felt his core humming in his chest. His core, not his heart. He twisted his head just enough to see a black jumpsuit.

He was Phantom. His parents knew.

His dad’s face contorted with anger, an expression he’d never once seen there before. “Don’t you dare call me that, impostor! What have you done with my son?”

“Dad, it’s me. I swear. I—I can explain.” He tugged on his restraints, trying to phase through them. Only to scream as the anti-ghost shielding shocked him.

His mom’s steps echoed from out of sight. “You aren’t escaping us that easily, ghost,” she spat the last word. “How long have you been possessing Danny?” She finally came into view, goggles blocking her eyes and her mouth hard.

“I’m not possessing him, I am Danny!”

She sneered. “Jack, now.”

“Release our son!” shouted his father. Then he pulled out a spray can and held down the nozzle.

Danny saw the mist approach him and scrunched his eyes closed as he turned his head to avoid the spray. But of course it was impossible. He whimpered as it settled on him, tiny pinpricks of burning. As he lay there, the feeling grew more and more intense until he couldn’t help but cry out.

And that’s when he breathed it in.

It was all agony, inside and out. The mist settled in his lungs, pure fire trying to melt core.

With a flash of light, he was Danny Fenton again. His heart beat in his chest and his lungs screamed for oxygen. The pain didn’t go away, but it lessened. Danny gasped in deep breaths, his limbs shaking in their restraints as he tried to push through the pain.

“Did it work?” asked his dad.

Fingers brushed his hair off his forehead. “Sweetie? Are you back with us?”

Danny opened his eyes, tears gathering and looked up at the face of his mother.

Her expression turned from hope to hatred so fast he thought he was dreaming. “Green eyes, Jack. The ghost is just trying to trick us.”

“The ghost repellent has never failed before. How are you surviving, ghost?”

Danny screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see his parents’ faces. “It’s me, I promise. It’s me. I’m alive. I’m alive.”

“Stop lying!” screamed his mom.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side, followed by a wave of agony. He felt like he was being electrocuted again. In defense, he transformed back into Phantom—his ghost form was so much more durable.

But the pain only got worse. He screamed. His wail was crawling its way up his throat, only to fizzle out into a wave of electricity when it hit the anti-ghost restraint strapped around his neck.

“Loud, isn’t it?” asked his father.

“Let’s shut it up, Jack,” said his mother.

“No, no please. It’s me, Danny!”

They ignored him, though. The pain stopped just long enough for him to gasp in a few breaths. Then piece of metal was being fixed under his jaw and over his mouth. His head was yanked up so it could be strapped in the back. Danny tried to yell into the muzzle, but it muffled all sound.

After that, he lost track of what they did. So many inventions were taken out, used, and discarded. Anything to destroy the ghost part of him or force him out of his living body.

He wished he could obey. That he could just be their son again and not Phantom. But he’d learned many times over the last three years that it was impossible. He was both Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom and spitting himself apart would only ever lead to destruction.

He didn’t know how many times he was forced into a transformation as his body tried to choose the form more resistant to the torture. It didn’t seem to matter, though, if he was Fenton or Phantom. His parents would check his eyes or use the ghost tracker and then the next wave of pain would wash over him.

Eventually, however, even his parents ran out of inventions to use.

“This isn’t working, Jackie.”

“What if we can’t force it out, Mads? What next?”

“We’ll cut it out. You know we’ve long hypothesized about the existence of a ghost heart. What better way to test our hypothesis than cutting the parasite out of our own son?”

Danny’s eyes flew open and he tugged with aching muscles, twisting as much as he was able. His muffled protests were ignored just as much as his words had been.

“Where do you think it’s hiding its heart?” asked his dad.

“We’ll use the Fenton Scanner to find the areas of densest ectoplasm concentration and search each of them.”

His mom stalked out of sight and Danny could hear her rummaging through various bins and cabinets looking for the scanner.

His dad, however, stared down at him, eyes hidden behind his goggles and his mouth in an uncharacteristic frown. “If you’re still in there, Danno, we’re gonna get rid of it. We’ll free you, son.”

Danny wanted to tell him he wasn’t trapped, to say again that he was himself, whatever he looked like. But all he could do was whimper and blink away the tears.

Then mom was back, a small scanner in her hand. She pointed it at Danny and he tensed, expecting more pain.

But he felt nothing. Soon enough, the device beeped and she waved over his dad.

“Look at this, sweetie. It’s working better than I expected. Only two main areas of ectoplasm concentration: his brain and his chest.”

“That’s awfully close to his heart, Mads. I don’t know if we can remove it without hurting Danny.”

“If we don’t remove it, he’ll be dead anyway!” Her last word caught on a sob.

Danny was crying in earnest now, too. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. How long would it take anyone to even notice? Jazz was away at college, Tucker had plans with his parents all night, Sam was trying to get along with her parents to get out of a rich-person function later in the month, and he and Tim didn’t have a check-in until Sunday.

Could he survive his parents for two whole days until then?

He forced his eyes open to see his parents hugging. All he wanted was to be between them, caught up in their embrace. But instead he was strapped down to a hard, cold table.

They separated.

“Hold him still, Jack,” said his mom.

So Danny did the opposite. He ignored the ache of his muscles, the way they protested, to twist and yank and move as much as he could.

But his father’s hands were big and he was strong and Danny was tired. When his dad spread his hands over his shoulders and pressed, Danny couldn’t fight back. Above him stood his mom, holding a scalpel that glowed green.

Danny closed his eyes tightly when he saw her lower the blade. He couldn’t watch this. Then agony as it sliced through his skin.

Danny screamed into the muzzle. The pain was so intense that he could focus on nothing else. He didn’t know if his parents were talking to each other. He didn’t know what they were finding inside of him.

Instinct forced him to hide his core, to push it smaller and disguise it. But he knew that nothing would stop his parents forever.

He had no way to judge the passage of time. It felt like an eternity; it felt like a second.

Then the hands on him ripped away suddenly and new shouts, new voices, rang out in the lab.

Danny blinked his eyes open to see Sam and Tucker above him. Sam was paler than he’d ever seen her and Tucker didn’t look any better. He tried to talk to them, but the muzzle still covered his face.

Sam turned her head away and shouted, “Kon!”

A moment later, Superboy was landing next to her, his face grim. Then Danny’s restraints, muzzle included, fell to pieces. He was free.

He pushed himself up, needing to see, only to cry in pain and fall back down when the cuts on his chest protested the movement.

Sam and Tucker shouted at him, told him to stay still. Their words were fuzzy and hard to focus on. Everything was hard to focus on. But in the brief moment of time he’d been able to see more than the ceiling above him, he saw Tim in full Red Robin get up using his staff to keep his parents away.

Tim was here. And the world went black.

-----

Next

I no longer tag, but if you want notifications when I update, check out the Subscription Post.

After about 40k of writing, we're finally back to the scene that started it all! Only now with 4x the number of Young Justice on hand. About three years have passed between Arc 2 and Arc 3, so they've all gotten quite close. There's group chats. So many group chats. Danny's met more members of the Young Justice (and I may write a few of those meetings in the future which is 80% why I decided to make this a series rather than a single work on AO3).

But on the rescue team we've only got Red Robin, Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.

I'm about a third of the way through with major edits for Arc 2. So I'll probably start cross posting to AO3 quite soon! Main changes are in what Tim tells Bruce about where he is and what he's up to.

#dpxdc #bring me home #now with arc 3!!! #Hope you all are as excited as I am! #dissection fic #vivisection fic #gore #not super graphic #by dp standards at least #but tagging just in case #danny is not having a good time #but his friends weren't gonna let him suffer for too long

[steddieas-shegoes]

deep penetration up the field

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'sports au' rated e wc: 992 tags: secret relationship, football player steve, musician eddie, dirty talk, phone sex (in the loosest sense of the term), masturbation

first, a huge shout out to @thefreakandthehair for basically coming up with the commentator's lines at the beginning of this drabble. and for encouraging me when it comes to a sport that isn't hockey. hope this is a very tasty meal for you 💖

and a thank you to the love of my life in another life @wormdebut, who may or may not have written a part two to this already because neither of us were satisfied with the level of tendernasty kinky shit they got up to here.

“Why are you watching the game? We are anti-football in this home,” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest as he took in what Gareth and Jeff had put on the tv.

“As if you don’t have the world’s most embarrassing crush on Harrington,” Gareth snorted.

“I don’t, actually,” Eddie said, distracted as he watched the man himself on the screen.

“Those tight ends, especially Harrington, they’re skilled at finding the holes and getting that deep penetration up the field,” an announcer said.

“Exactly, Mark. You need a tight end that can play both ways confidently, that’s what sets this team apart,” another announcer said.

Eddie barely bit back a laugh as they focused in on Steve’s face before the snap.

Eddie could just barely see the edge of a hickey on his neck and felt his heart stop.

“Looks like Harrington has no trouble finding willing women,” Jeff nudged Eddie as he left the room to get another beer from the fridge.

He secretly liked football, and probably worshiped the ground Steve walked on as he was most of the reason the Colts had been having an undefeated season so far.

Gareth, however, couldn’t stand any event with a ball, and would judge the hell out of Jeff if he found out he was watching for any other reason than to make fun.

Eddie watched as Steve got a touchdown, something he’d been doing in almost every game this season, doing his stupid dance in the end zone. 

Eddie hid a fond smile when he pretended to play air guitar and pointed at the camera that was focused in on him.

He could feel the heat on his face, knew he needed to get out of the room, but just as he turned to go, Jeff came back in and saw him.

“Are you getting sick, Ed?” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“Nope. Just gonna go finish packing!”

He rushed to his bedroom, closing the door and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor with his head against his knees.

They talked about telling the guys when they meet up in Chicago in two weeks. The Colts play the Bears and Eddie plays The Riviera.

But the more Eddie thought about what that would mean, that it would make it real, the more he wanted to wait.

Not because he wasn’t sure about Steve. Never because he wasn’t head over heels in love with him.

Because Steve came out of nowhere, a stereotypical jock in every way on the surface, an overwhelmingly adoring and adorable sweetheart the moment he was alone with Eddie. It was easy to fall in love with him.

And it happened fast.

One moment they were making it out backstage in a closet, the next Steve was whispering how much he loved him in their shared hotel bed the night before pre-season started.

Now, they secretly met up when they could until they could figure out how to tell the people that mattered.

Eddie would have to be more careful about the hickeys he left, though.

He managed to pick himself up and actually work on packing for Corroded Coffin’s Midwest tour, but couldn’t help smiling to himself when he heard Jeff yelling excitedly about Steve managing to block three guys for his team to get another touchdown.

When his cell phone rang an hour later, he rushed to pick it up, already knowing who it would be before checking the screen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he sat on the edge of his bed as he spoke.

“Hey, baby. Doing okay?” Steve’s voice was still slightly out of breath, like he’d just ran off the field and called Eddie before anything else.

“I’m good. Are you?”

“Great. We won. I think if we keep it up, we’ll be favored to make the Super Bowl.”

Eddie’s brows raised.

He didn’t really like football, but everyone knew how big of a deal the Super Bowl was. 

“That’s great, Stevie. You heading back to the hotel now or going out with the guys?” 

“I’m hiding in the bathroom, we just got off the field. Think I’m gonna head to the hotel, though. Don’t really feel like going out.”

Eddie smiled to himself.

“Call me when you get settled?”

“Just to hear my voice or for other reasons?” 

Eddie could hear the smirk in Steve’s voice, felt himself start to smirk at the thought of what they could do on the phone later.

“You know I love hearing your voice, but I also love hearing you whine and beg,” Eddie’s voice dropped lower, more of a growl.

“Eddie.”

Steve sounded breathless, almost like when he…

“Are you touching yourself? In uniform?” He told Eddie he didn’t like to risk messing up the uniform, it was sacred, blah blah blah. But Eddie knew exactly where his hand was right now.

“Mhm,” Steve whimpered.

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Can’t even wait until you get to the hotel? What if someone walks in?” Eddie knew what would happen if he kept talking like this, especially when he could hear the faint movements of Steve’s hand working his cock.

“Don’t care. Need you,” Steve gasped out, ending his words on a groan.

Eddie was hard, but refused to touch himself now, knew he’d be miserable if Steve had to suddenly stop and he didn’t get off.

“What do you think I’d do? You think I’d get on my knees in the locker room, suck you off in front of everyone?” Eddie shook his head when he heard Steve’s breath catch, slick noises getting louder. “Or would you wanna wait until everyone leaves so no one sees you begging to suck me off before I’ve even gotten your cum down my throat?” 

“Please,” Steve begged.

Eddie smirked.

“Go ahead, sweet boy. Make a mess.”

Steve bit back a loud moan as he came, panting into the phone as Eddie talked him through it.

“Later?” Steve asked.

“You’re insatiable.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #sports au

[thissortofsorcery]

Billy’s one loud asshole.

He’s always making one kind of noise or another, always moving, either blaring his music, or singing, or dancing, or just. Talking to the damn TV.

For Steve, who’s used to drifting through his empty house like he’s haunting it, Billy’s noise is a beautiful thing.

Billy’s just— alive. Warm and bright and thrumming with energy, spinning through the room like a shooting star, leaving sparks on Steve’s skin every time they touch.

Steve leaves the light on in every room in the house so he feels less alone, Billy lights every room he occupies like the morning sun streaming through the windows.

And when he laughs, it’s. It’s like fire crackling in the fireplace, warm and intimate and feeling like home. Every time.

Billy doesn’t seem to know that, though.

For all his enthusiasm, sometimes he’ll catch Steve watching and just— stop. His smile dims, and he looks down, and he shuffles in place, just a little, before he puts on a big smile, a little too sharp, and changes tracks.

He saunters close to Steve, puts his hands on Steve’s hips, cages him in against the counter.

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” His voice is like rolling thunder, coming from deep in his chest to reach into Steve’s and wrap his heart in a fist.

“You know I do,” Steve matches his tone, leans in closer to wrap his arms around Billy’s waist.

Billy nudges his nose against Steve’s, teasing him with an almost kiss, a brush of lips. It’s why he doesn’t see it coming when Steve dips him, arms secure around him, and plants a big, exaggerated kiss on his mouth.

“Mwah!”

“What- Steve, what the hell?” Billy’s laughing again, a musical, bright sound, and that’s all Steve wanted to see.

“You tell me, sunshine, what’s it look like?”

Steve turns the volume of the radio back up, gets the music bouncing off the kitchen tiles. With one hand still grasped in Billy’s, he puts a hand on his waist and pulls him into a slow dance.

“Steve, we can’t slow dance to Ratt,” Billy complains, but the smile on his face is big and beautiful, teeth glinting, tongue peeking out. They shuffle side to side slowly, completely off-sync with the song.

“I don’t know man, looks like we’re doing it,” Steve says, and it gets Billy laughing again. Steve watches his head tilt back, his lips stretch, plump and wide, his throat bob with joy. “But we can dance faster if you want!”

Without warning, he spins Billy away, making him slide on his socks, and on the spin back he catches himself on Steve’s chest, still snickering.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, placing his hands back on Billy’s waist. “I just really like you.”

And as much as Billy’s answering grin is sharp and sexy, the pink on his cheeks is telling.

“How much do you like me?”

“Hm… I like you more than I like basketball.”

“Basketball?” Billy raises his eyebrows. “I’m not feeling the love there…”

“I do! I like you more than the Beamer,” Steve says, and Billy looks interested. “I like you more than hairspray!”

Billy gasps, “Not hairspray!”

“I do!” Steve half-yells, both of them caught in fits of giggles. “I do. I really like you,” He adds more softly, just to watch Billy turn pink again. He cups his cheek in his hand just to feel how warm it is.

“You’re a sap, Harrington,” Billy says, but his voice is low and intimate, crackling fire in the hearth.

Steve shrugs. Doesn’t deny it.

He kisses Billy instead, takes a sip of all that warmth, takes it between his lips, lets it burn him to his core.

It’s like Steve’s been sleeping this whole time, and Billy’s the dawn that woke him up. Beautiful, blinding, burning. The least Steve can do is stoke his fire.

-

every time anti bullshit shows up on my dash, I write Steve loving on Billy | VI

#please reblog #I come back with the SAPPIEST OF SAP #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #sorcery writes #mine #spreading billy love

[foggybear42]

i need to remind everyone of one of my favourite non-roleplaying moments of dndads s2. it’s basically just freddie suffering for almost 2 minutes straight. also i copy pasted the transcript if you can’t/don’t want to listen to the video. it’s under the cut

Beth: Hi. I’m Beth May, and I play… [intensely] Scary Marlowe.

[gasps]

Freddie: [harsh coughing]

Will: She's back.

Beth: I’m…

Freddie: [off mic] Oh, shit! [more coughing]

Beth: Oh my God!

Freddie: I— [still coughing off-mic]

Beth: Have you ever scared somebody so bad that they got COVID?

[laughter]

Freddie: No, I swallowed—[sniff]—spit…

Matt: Freddie doesn't have hiccups anymore.

Freddie: Into my… [coughs] Into my— lungs. [back on mic] I gasped too hard.

Anthony: What a way to die, that would be.

Beth: Wow.

Freddie: [off mic] Holy shit.

Beth: That's how I want to go. Fun fact about… S—

Freddie: [hiccups] Oh, fuck, I—

[group laughter]

Anthony: Oh, no…! You buffoon!

Matt: Freddie, leave the room!

Anthony: Augh!

Will: Freddie, that's disgusting!

Matt: Freddie, leave the room!

Freddie: [off mic] Hold on!

Matt: Beth needs to give a fact. Get outta here!

Freddie: No, no. I have a straw!

Matt: You stay away from your microphone!

Freddie: [off mic] I have a straw!

Anthony: Who gives a shit about your straw?

Matt: You’re like getting cl—

Freddie: [off mic] I got a straw!

Matt: You’re like, getting closer when you're coughing.

Freddie: [off mic] Guys, shut up, I have a—

[snap!]

Freddie: [off mic, yelling] Ow!

Anthony: Oh fuck!

[joyous group laughter]

Anthony: He just ran into the kitchen and…

Freddie: [off mic, yelling] Ow!

Anthony: …tripped on a cord and hit his fucking foot.

Matt: You don't have to run! This isn't a live show.

Anthony: You can edit this!

Freddie: [off mic, yelling something]

Beth: He didn't even trip on a cord!

Will: [off mic] We can cut this out!

Anthony: He didn't?

Will: [off mic] What are you doing?

Anthony: What did he…?

Beth: I think that we should cut it out!

Will: Freddie’s…

Beth: I don't even think it's that funny.

Will: Freddie’s walking back with a glass and he's…

Matt: Freddie bought this… $40 hiccup straw that he tried to show me last time. And it did not work.

Freddie: Okay, okay.

Matt: It's my favorite thing that's ever happened.

Anthony: It’s an anti-hiccup straw?

Freddie: I have a— see this straw… [hiccup]. So this straw was invented by a doctor to cure hiccups, so you have to just suck water through it.

Matt: By a quack!

Anthony: Alright, here we go!

Freddie: Okay. [tiny noise of air]

[pause]

Will: [quiet chuckling]

Beth: [sighing] Oh…

[pause]

Matt: Last time he did this, he hiccuped five seconds afterwards.

Beth: I’m gonna—

Freddie: It worked!

Beth: All right. Hey! I'm Beth May.

Freddie: Hey, Beth!

Beth: And I play [intensely] Scary Marlowe.

[gasps]

Beth: A goth pu— [laughs]

[laughter]

Anthony: How much money would you give to make Freddie cough in it right now and hiccup? For another hour?

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #dndads 2 #freddie wong #i guess

[haunted-headset]

Ok so hear me out

Wilbur and Y/n arguing.

Then y/n wanted to k!ll herself but..

Guess what Wilbur did...

He moved the knife away and kisses her...

💔 There’s a Reason London Puts Barriers on the Tube Line 💔

Summary: You & Wilbur have a massive argument & all of your su!c!dal thoughts came back, so you ran to Jubilee Line to do your deed. What you forgot is that Wilbur can track your phone.

A/N: Hello! Tysm for the ask! I changed the story up a bit so that the reader doesn't use a knife since knives kinda trigger me :/

word count: 796

proofread: nope

tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0 @cathers-world@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

warnings/cw: the reader has su!c!dal thoughts, two attempted su!c!des, mentions of an overdose, arguing/yelling, swearing

This was the worst argument you'd ever had with him in your three years of dating him, & it made your head hurt & your chest feel tight. You had attempted to kill yourself two days ago by overdosing on your anti-depressants.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Wilbur shouted. "Are you fucking stupid, Y/N?! You could've seriously hurt yourself!"

"That's the point!" You shouted back. "That's why I did it! & I already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you kept insisting!"

“That’s because I fucking care about you!” Wilbur yelled. His fists were balled & his eyes, like yours, were bloodshot.

"Well, did I ask for you to care about me?” you cried.

He let out a loud groan of anger & pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, I fucking hate you."

Your eyes widened in shock. He'd gotten angry at you before, of course, but he'd never said that he hated you before. "You don’t mean that," you murmured as more tears rolled down your damp cheeks.

"Right now, I do," he said icily. "More than anything in the world.”

You glared at him. "More than the I love yous?”

His eyes met yours & his expression softened slightly. “…You’re being unfair."

"How the hell am I being unfair?!" you exclaimed. "You're being the unfair & shitty one here! Instead of asking me if I'm alright, you just--you just get mad at me! & when I say I don't want to talk, you keep pressing & pressing & pressing!"

"It's not my fault nor my problem that you're a depressed bitch who doesn't do anything to try & improve their mental state!" he yelled.

With burning tears in your eyes, you started to tie your shoes. Wilbur sighed & said, "No, please don't leave, I-"

"Just shut up," you snapped before you walked out, slamming the door behind you. You started to walk through the rain to Jubilee Line, which would take about forty minutes. You stepped in a few puddles on your way, which drenched your shoes & legs, & you forgot to grab a hoodie, so your entire body was soaked in rainwater.

When you finally arrived, tears rolled down your cheeks & mixed with raindrops as you remembered the song that Wilbur had written a year or two ago. He was rambling on & on about how crappy the mental health was in London & how the city was doing nothing to help their citizens, & how he'd see people kill themselves on Jubilee Line & nobody would say anything or try to stop them, & instead of trying to help the people by improving their mental health services, the city just built barriers on the tube, & the barriers didn't really do anything. & you told him that he should write a song about that. Within an hour, he'd written a song about it, & for the majority of that hour, he would tell you how much he loved you & how creative you were.

You walked up to the barriers & saw that the next train was arriving in five minutes. You kicked with all of your might on the glass until the glass broke. You smiled sadly. The barriers, like Wilbur had said, were shit.

You took a deep breath & held back your tears. You took a step forward.

You were about to fall onto the tracks.

This was it.

It would finally work.

You heard a familiar voice scream your name from behind you.

& then somebody pulled you back & hugged you. It was a sobbing Wilbur.

"L-love, I don't ever want you to die, please...don't die..." he said between his sobs. "I-I'm sorry for yelling, I'm sorry for hurting you, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean a fucking word, I don't hate you, I never would, darling..."

You pressed your face into his chest & sobbed with him as you both murmured apologies to each other. He pulled you away from his chest only to pepper kisses all over your wet face.

"Please, don't go...I just need to feel your arms around me, mon amour, that's all I've ever wanted," he cried. "I don't want to lose you."

"I'm sorry," you whimpered. "I'm sorry for-"

He cut you off with a kiss. When he pulled away, he cupped your face & said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. You're the one who's struggling & I didn't even think about that, & I was such a dickhead to you."

"So you don't hate me?" you said with a sniffle as he wiped your cheeks.

"I would never hate you," he whispered. "C'mon, let's go home. I think there's a lot that we need to talk about."

#mental health #mental health awareness #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #lovejoy wilbur #fanfic #wilbur #creative writing #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #dsmp wilbur #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #qsmp wilbur #tw sui implied #tw

[simmyfrobby]

Being a bitch about the leafs getting a dewey is immature. Sadposting and making little edits about how awful Toronto is? Fuck off. Just because your team cant make the playoffs dont blame the teams that can. We will love him on the leafs. Get over yourself.

okay so i normally delete these kinda asks without bothering w a reply because i honestly think they’re kind of tiresome & because i know you’re just being a fan and if i can forgive wild fans for being unreasonable about their team i then i can forgive leafs fans for it too. 

with that said: braindead take.

just. stupid. so stupid, in fact, that i will write a reply because i think it genuinely might make me feel a little better. 

okay so lets start right at the end. WHY should i get over the fact that a player i like is no longer on my team. why should it matter that you’ll love him. my team was sold of in little bits to teams i either don’t care about or actively root against. 

that?? sucks?? 

i care about my team. i want my team to win. i want my favourite players to stay on my team and when they don’t that’s upsetting. this is not a revolutionary concept.

also the way it all played out was kinda shitty. i knew we would likely lose duhaime, but after losing pat i thought we would maybe get to keep dewar. and when the deadline passed i thought we were ok. hell, even connor thought he was safe. and that he would get to stay with his friends. and then it turns out we lost him at the last second. and that’s fucking gutting. 

“we will love him in toronto” ok. even if that is true, my favourite toy was taken away and given to some other kid. i don’t care whether or not they’re happy to have him. i didn’t want to give him away. were you happy for the canes when bunting went there instead of coming back to the leafs??? no because that’s not how this works. i don’t want good things for the leafs i want good things for my team. i don’t want other teams to win i want my team to win

and that’s allowed.

encouraged even.

“sadposting and making little edits” ok this is fair and accurate and i might make it my blog title if you don’t mind. it is funny to me that you interpret that poem as being about how much the leafs suck and not about?? how being traded suddenly?? and your best friend being traded away?? sucks??? poems are funny things and don’t say anything definitively, so you are allowed to interpret it however you like, but i haven’t gotten any angry avs fans in my inbox yelling about my "duhaime sadposts"?

but ok! directors note & something worth keeping in the back of your mind when interacting w this edit and also all other dewar edits: 

This is not!!! About you!!! 

i am not trying to hurt your feelings!! i do not care about your team!! for the love of god please just unfollow my blog.

also. and this is pedantic but i want to say it because its been bothering me. you don’t get “A Dewey”, you get Connor Dewar. the deweys were a matched set and without duhaime on the same team what does that even matter. you don’t get “dewey 2” you get Connor Dewar. congrats! that's great! he’s wonderful. please treat him nice etc etc.

being a bitch about the leafs is immature and i will do a better job of tagging my anti-leafs posts from now on. ill even tag all of my dewey poems as anti leafs if they're this upsetting to you.

one final thing: the wild not making the playoffs is very much the fault of other teams and i absolutely could blame other teams for it. theyre better and they beat us and now we might not make the playoffs. again: that's how this works. i get your point though, its not the leafs´ fault the wild have been miserable this season but i reserve the right to dislike them either way :)

congrats on the cute little guy. i will miss him very much. and again: PLEASE unfollow.

#i was right. that did make me feel better actually. #and im sorry but. bert went to the leafs and i had to listen to leafs fans complain about how much he sucked for several months #didnt love that. pardon me for not being overly optimistic about how dewar will be received #hope to be wrong ofc #i will miss him SO FUCKING MUCH u guys #fuck.

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 4: Target: Expect More. Pay Less.

You woke up to the sound of the most annoying alarm you’ve heard in your life. You groaned. “Please turn it off,” you complained. You heard Dean flail his arm around until he hit the snooze button. “Thank god,” you said, snuggling into your pillow. Why was your pillow so hard? Maybe because it was Dean. You quickly realized what was happening – your head was on Dean’s chest, hand resting on his bicep. His arm was wrapped around your waist tightly. You were CUDDLING with this man. With a jolt, you sat up.

“What the fuck?!” you yelled.

“What the fuck me?! What the fuck YOU!” Dean yelled back. “You were on ME, sweetheart. I think that makes you the more guilty party.”

“Ugh!” was all you could respond. He had a point, as infuriating as it was.

Scrambling off the bed, you tripped over the ridiculously long sweatpants and almost faceplanted into the floor. Dean was making you very flustered, and that was pissing you off. You’re supposed to be keeping your guard up with this guy, not snuggling him. You walked over to his desk, grabbing the pile of your neatly folded clothes. “I need more clothes,” you stated. You weren’t too keen on wearing the same outfit over and over. A clean pair of panties would be nice.

“I’ll give you a card and you can go shopping. Just don’t go too crazy,” Dean said. You rolled your eyes. You were planning on hitting up a Target, not Nordstrom. You headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day, replaying everything in your head. It felt so strong and comforting to be in his arms. The feeling of his rock-hard chest gave you butterflies. You wanted to lie there with him all day and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. No, you thought, you still don’t know this guy. He could be a cold-blooded killer.

You walked back into Dean’s room to find him putting on his boots. You took a moment to admire his tattoo sleeve – you recognized a few references to classic rock band album covers. You wondered if that was the only place he had tattoos.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Dean teased. You had no idea how long you’ve been staring.

“Just curious about your tattoos,” you answered honestly. You couldn’t think of a snarky response.

“What, TV Dean wasn’t tatted up?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Just that anti-possession symbol on his chest,” you answered. He chuckled and pulled his t-shirt down enough for you to see the same tattoo in the same place. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” You rolled your eyes. Why did he have to be this charming?

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Sammy’s got a case, and you need to go shopping. Let’s get to it.”

Dean dropped you off at Target while he and Sam went on a supply run. You bought all the essentials – some leggings, a few tops, underwear, socks, a duffle, and you had to splurge on a little eyeliner. It’s not for Dean, it’s for me, you told yourself. You checked out and called Sam, letting him know you were done and ready to be picked up. To your relief, he told you they’re already on their way. You sat on a bench outside with your bags, flipping through social media on your phone. You weren’t following anyone, but you could at least watch the reels. You were entranced with the videos of the bottles going down the stairs, so much so that you barely noticed a figure standing in front of you. Looking up, you saw a tall man with a snapback and a crooked smile. “Hey there baby. Waitin’ on someone? Mind if I join you?”

Great. You literally had nowhere to go, so you’d be stuck with this douche-canoe. You could tell him to fuck off, but the people pleaser in you was scared of how he’d react. You’re not scared to sass Dean, you told yourself. Maybe you were more comfortable around him than you thought. Disrupting your thoughts, the guy sat next to you on the bench, leaning back and placing an arm around your shoulders. Screw this so hard.

“Please don’t touch me,” you said, voice shaking. Way to be assertive.

“Baby I think you’d better come home with me. You can show me all those pretty clothes you bought. I wouldn’t mind watching you undress.” You cringed, not seeing a way out of this situation.

Like a knight in shining armor, you watched as the Impala drove up to the front of the store. Bolting up and grabbing your bags, you hurriedly mumbled, “Sorry, there’s my ride.” Except he grabbed your wrist and yanked you back to face him.

“I think you’re just trying to blow me off, which I really don’t appreciate. Where are your manners?” he seethed. This dude was seriously nuts if he thought you were coming home with him. Before you could say anything, you heard a car door slam.

“Hey dipshit, get your hands off of her before I rearrange your fucking face!” Dean was PISSED. He was coming right at him, fists clenched, the look in his eyes absolutely terrifying. Yeah, Dean was a scary motherfucker. But it kind of turned you on how protective he was being.

“Woah hey man, we’re cool. We were just talking, weren’t we?” the man turned toward you as if you’d back him up. You, however, had your eyes fixed on Dean’s.

“Let’s go,” you said quietly. Dean wasted no time in putting his arm around your shoulders and walking you to the car, but not before sending a swift punch to the man’s gut. You didn’t look back but could hear him groaning and yelling profanities. Dean opened the door for you, grabbing your bags to throw them in the trunk. Flipping off the man as a final “fuck you,” Dean sped out of the parking lot.

“You good?” Sam asked. You nodded, knowing your voice would quiver too much if you tried to talk. Dean simply grunted, not wanting to open his mouth and scare you with his anger. The car ride was silent for about an hour. Dean kept checking on you, looking through the rearview mirror. He was worried. You looked out the window, desperately trying to calm yourself down. The entire situation had you shaking. The fear you felt with that man, then Dean’s booming voice, it was a lot to process. You immediately felt safe when you saw Dean pull up in the Impala. You instinctually knew he’d protect you, and that thought bounced around your head for a while. Maybe this whole soulmate thing was real.

Chapter 5

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch @nelachu2423 @nancymcl

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #sam and dean #team free will #spn #fanfic

[kickbutts-singsongs]

I know no one asked, but I have exactly zero (0) people to talk about bkdk with irl so here you guys go

My BKDK Journey

Yes, this sounds stupid, but my god it’s been almost three years of an absolute rollercoaster of feelings and denials and tears and revelations…

and if you don’t mind, I’m gonna rant about it.

(not spoiler free)

_____

May 2021

To start off, i wasn’t always a bkdk shipper.

I shipped izu*cha at first (not saying it’s a bad ship btw; it’s actually quite cute. im just afraid people’ll be mad if I accidentally invade their tag lol), primarily because I assumed that would be the ship that became canon.

But also, my veryyyyy leasttttt favorite character… was Bakugou Katsuki.

When I tell you that I would’ve loved nothing more than to somehow spawn into the bnha universe and punch that brat in the face— AGHHHHHHHHHH

Now this wasn’t all his fault: A) I watched the dub first lol, and B) he reminded me of someone that i was not in a place to stand up to at the time, and his constant anger, yelling, and harsh treatment of Izuku—who i began to relate to—made me hateeee him.

There was a time when I literally said “if he died, I wouldn’t miss him.” <- this was later proven false lol

So, I was watching the anime dub with an absolute animosity for our resident deuteragonist, but on top of that…

I was watching it with a friend with a crunchyroll account who lived in another state that I was visiting and staying with for two weeks, so by the time i had to go back home, we’d only gotten up to the part where All Might was getting Inko’s permission to let Izuku stay at the UA dorms.

Anddddddd in my drive to consume more bnha once I got home, i somehow stumbled across an Instagram account that posted bnha sub episodes divided into parts,

but they only had season four and onwards.

Sooooo I never saw the second half of season three… more importantly,

I NEVER SAW DEKU VS KACCHAN 2!!!!!

(I will say that I had seen a couple photos/edits/etc, but I never knew what had been said, or why they fought)

_____

June 2021

At this point in time, I’d been exposed to a lot of the fandom. My fyp on both IG and Pinterest were filled to the brim with all things bnha (because this is what happens when one has a hyperfixation), so I saw a lot of stuff.

Especially fanart.

This is where I started learning about the different ships.

I saw a lot of the side character ships and thought they were adorable (kamijirou, todomomo, even kiribaku), but then I saw some with Izuku.

Izu*cha was a given for me. I didn’t think there was a single person that didn’t ship it. But then I started seeing fanart of ships like tododeku, shindeku, and bakudeku.

And my first reaction to finding out that people shipped my beautiful baby sunshine boi with the person who bullied him for years?????

HELLLLLLLLLLL NO

So with my (unknowingly) limited knowledge of their relationship, i was very much an anti (i never spoke out or anything, i just reallyyyy didn’t like the ship lol)

(And then, you know, I started to see all the bkdk hate online and kinda went “okay not touching that”)

But that began to change…

_____

August 2021

…after I saw a manga leak for the first time.

I was scrolling thru my feed and all of a sudden. BOOM!

I was like 😧

IS THAT IZUKU?????

And i looked in the comments and yes it was.

I checked out the page and found that they had an entire account of manga leaks and was so happy.

I quickly began to read from the very bottom of that account, and it started from right about where Izuku first began his vigilante arc (i had no idea how much was in between then and where I left off on the anime, but I was willing to read it lol)

And so I waited diligently for the leaks every week (a practice I have continued to uphold lol), until one day, i came across an untranslated series of panels from the latest chapter. I looked at it and it was of Katsuki and Izuku, facing each other in the rain (you know the one). I knew the leaks would be coming a day later, but I wanted to look through them anyways, so I did.

I didn’t understand a word they said, but the pictures and imagery of them as kids then middle schoolers then where they were now seemed so touching…

And then I came across a pair of kanji that I recognized.

I was like “wait WHAT???”

I zoomed in and went “that— isn’t that—? That’s part of Midoriya’s name, right???”

And then I was like “wait a second… omg that’s Izuku, isn’t it. That’s the freaking kanji for Izuku.”

And it was!!!!!

So inside I’m having a mini freakout cuz—

Bakugou just called him IZUKU

Fast forward to the next day, and I looked at the translated version, and found out that not only did he call him Izuku,

He

Freaking

APOLOGIZED

And I was like “huhhhhhhh”

What happened between now and the most recent anime episodes for this to occur???? For Bakugou to do a complete 180 and apologize????????

Well, I finally got my answers…

_____

November 2021

…when I started reading the manga.

I started from the beginning, cuz I wanted to see Horikoshi’s art style and the extra drawings and all the other stuff…

And when I tell you that Katsuki became a whole new character to me—

First, I read everything about early-on Bakugou— without hearing him yell in his dub voice—and realized “oh wow he really is just a kid with issues and a worldview that he’s now having to change.”

Then, I finally read what happened in that space between moving into the dorms and the beginning of season four (most importantly, DvK2).

Cried.

Then, oh then, I got up to where season five ended and the rest of the manga began.

. . .

Funny thing: back when I read the leaks to ch322, I remember thinking to myself, “huh. what did Bakugou mean by Shigaraki making swiss cheese outta him?”

😦

THE WAY I GASPED

AND THEN CRIED

OH MY FREAKING GOD

That was the moment where i truly ceased to hate Katsuki cuz holy character development batman

Then, of course, we see them in recovery

And then the vigilante arc and apology scene *sobs*

And then I was caught up.

(Btw I finished the entire manga up ‘til ch334 in just over a week. I read for nine days straight. During the school year. My emotions were all over the place goodness gracious I could barely concentrate.)

So that’s how I went from being a Bakugou hater to going “you know what he’s a complex character and he’s slowly becoming a better person” and realizing that he was now one of my fav characters and therefore cursed to die but I’ll talk about that later

Was I now a bakudeku shipper?

Hah nope.

_____

December 2021

I began my dive into the true essence of any fandom: fanfiction.

Over the course of winter break, I had started off with fics that had no romantic pairing (I just wanted to see my boi Izuku), but then somehow stumbled across Mastermind: Strategist for Hire and then read the entirety of the For Want of a Nail series (shoutout to Clouds btw ❤️) cuz I was like “ok whew no bkdk fics” which was my mindset at the time.

But somehow (I can’t even remember how I found it) I came across a bkdk fic. It was called For Want of Izuku’s Toe Joint by Talavin (okay now that I think about it there’s probably a simple explanation lol).

I don’t quite know what compelled me to start reading it, but I did.

And I really liked it.

But not in the “I’ve been converted” kinda way.

It was like an “I shouldn’t be enjoying this why am I enjoying this?” kinda feeling. Like my head says no but my heart says yeah.

A really really really really guilty pleasure.

So, from that day on, whenever I came across any form of bkdk media, I would simultaneously feel discomfort and yet an odd sense of satisfaction.

A snippet of my daily life:

Me: *comes across bkdk fanart on pinterest*

Me: eww

Also me: *stares at it for like five minutes straight*

Me: who even likes this?

Also me: *saves pin to my mha board*

Me: not my ship

Also me: *scrolls down to more like this*

Bless my heart I was in such denial.

_____

July 2022

Bit of a timeskip, but nothing of note really happened in those last six months so here we go.

We’ve gotten to the point in the manga where the final arc is underway and Bakugou is about to KICK SOME BUTT

He’s revealed his Panser Strafe support item and I’m gushing about it to my friend (she kinda fell out of the fandom but still tolerated my rants bless her)

Oh, side note: it was then that I also expressed my concern for Bakugou’s “alive” status

Evidence:

For reference, some of my favorite characters are:

Beth March (Little Women)

John Reese (Person of Interest)

Joss Carter (Person of Interest)

Leonard Snart (Arrowverse)

Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars)

Fantine (Les Mis)

Eponine (Les Mis)

Jean Valjean (Les Mis)

Simon (Lord of the Flies)

Piggy (Lord of the Flies)

Grace Stone (Manifest)

Bubaigawara Jin — Twice (BNHA)

Wanna guess which of these guys died?

Trick question! It’s all of them (:

Yeah so anyways those following chapters really made me excited and nervous cuz YEAH KICK HIS ASS BAKUGOU but also IZUKUUUUU WE NEED YOU

hah hah.

_____

August 2022

Utterly gobsmacked. Cried. Disbelief. Horrified. Confusion. Anger. Went through the five stages of grief and then some.

Sometimes I hate being right 🥲

But the good thing that came from this was that my positive view of Katsuki only grew after seeing his utter faith in Izuku (and his thoughts being on him in his final moments???? 🥺🥺🥺)

And it was at this point in time where I could admit to myself “you know what? i see it. i see the appeal. i wouldn’t mind this actually becoming canon.”

Did I think that it would actually become canon?? No.

_____

September 2022

I don’t know how I thought Izuku was gonna react to seeing Katsuki’s body on the ground, but GOOD LORD IT WASNT THAT

Even sweet little blind me realized “oh wow he like really feels intense stuff for Katsuki huh”

(But some things I missed—cuz I was still a bit wired for izu*cha—were shigarakis implications “yeah u looooove the present I got u” and the freaking HEART that blackwhip caused??? when Izuku reeled himself back in???? like how did i miss that i read that chapter like fifteen times??)

So this is all to say that I’ve missed any and all actual bkdk hints up until this point. I finally lifted my head out of the izu*cha fog when…

_____

July 2023

…Ochako and Toga had their chat about romance.

The first actual hint was when Ochako had told Toga “I’ll give you my blood for the rest of my life.”

Little blind me became a bit less blind that day, cuz I was like “um. ochako? that— that sounded kinda like a proposal. like. a marriage proposal. ochako??”

And then those chapters just kept getting better!!

Bebe Ochako’s determination???

The Spirited Away moment?????

“I’m envious of your smile”????????

“YOU REALLY THINK IM CUTE?” “THE CUTEST IN THE WHOLE WORLD” LIKE 😭😭😭😭😭

For the first time, I was looking at the manga without the assumption that izu*cha would be endgame. And it only got better after I…

_____

August 2023

…got Tumblr!!!

Everything was downhill from here folks.

In the best possible way.

I came across some analyses of what was going on with togachako, and consequently led me to some bakudeku analyses. I read them and my goodness they made so much sense.

Like not even just personality-wise!! Those metas brought in actual things Horikoshi said about wanting to go outside the norms of shounen (and about not liking the Naruto ending 💀), and compared bkdk to tropes in different works of fiction, and even discussed how bkdk made sense narratively. They properly convinced me of the ship.

And then for good measure, I reread the manga in its entirety thru a bkdk filter, and lo and behold things took on new meanings and my eyes were opened.

I totally and irrevocably shipped them! And I actually thought they had a chance at being canon!!

(And then I binged so much bkdk fanfiction omg you wouldn’t BELIEVE like I read the ones with the highest kudos first and then just picked the biggest collections I could find and read down the line

It was like being on drugs like each fic gave me more dopamine than the last I was so happy oh my god)

_____

October 2023

And then finally, the day came.

The answer to “is bakugou alive yet?” became a yes.

We screamed. We cried. We jumped for joy. We told bakugou antis to suck it. But most of all, our bkdk hearts soared to see our boys make eye contact with each other for the first time in over a year 🥹

And from that moment on, I truly began to believe that bkdk would indeed become canon.

_____

And so, this concludes my 42672288 page rant about how I came to be a bkdk shipper.

Thank you for reading, and before I go, I want to ask:

How did you guys get into bkdk?

Did you convert over from izu*cha? Or perhaps tododeku? Or maybe kiribaku? Or are you one of the few who have shipped them since the beginning??

In any case, I’m happy you’re here. And while it may have taken me a couple years, I’m happy that I’m here too :)

(and thank you @animelover32456)

#this may just be me screaming into the void #but at least it’s out there #bnha #mha #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bakudeku #bkdk #my bkdk journey #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #my thoughts #and also I’m going to admit without admitting that I might or might not have made some ocs a mere two months after I started bnha… #and the two leads were very much bkdk coded 💀 #I was going to make a next gen au and so over the course of two years I carefully crafted 20 students (names personalities and quirks) #and I had some cool villains #honestly some of my quirk ideas were awesome #maybe one day I’ll post some of them… we’ll see #but if anyone asks if I ever made any ocs NO I DIDNT #🎶song sings🎶

[moonstruckme]

Face Masks

summary: you discover that if there's one thing your friend Steve is a giant nerd about, it's skincare

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 973 words

You knock on Steve’s door for the second time, peering into the closest window tentatively. You’d been supposed to go see him at work to drop off the cassette you’d borrowed, but you could’ve sworn his shift ended at eight tonight, not five. When you’d gotten there, Robin had told you with a shrug that you should be able to find him at home, but he wasn’t answering the door. 

You glanced behind you, just to make sure you hadn’t hallucinated his car in the driveway. He wouldn’t ignore you on purpose, would he? You haven’t known Steve long, but you consider him a good friend, and he always seems to treat you with a tenderness he doesn’t quite show to his other friends, even Robin. He finds excuses to hold your hand and calls you “honey” and smiles at you in this soft way that makes your insides turn to mush. You don’t think Steve’s the sort of guy who does all that for show, being sweet and flirty in front of his friends and then ignoring you when it’s just the two of you. That’d be…you can’t believe that about him. 

You decide to give it one more try before going home, but your knuckles barely make contact with the door before it’s swinging open. “What?” Steve snaps, then blinks, his eyebrows shooting high as he spots you. “Shit, sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I thought you were the postal service or something.” 

“I…it’s okay.” You’re staring at him, you know, but you can’t make yourself stop. You could probably blame it on the shock of having him spook you like he’s just done, but it may also be due to another surprise. “You’re wearing a headband.” 

He looks skyward as if he’ll be able to see it, then back to you with a half-defensive expression. “I, um…yeah.” He shrugs. “I am.” 

“I brought your cassette,” you explain yourself dumbly, still somewhat mystified. “Also, you have…dirt on your face?” You reach out to brush some of the brown clots off his cheek, but he bats your hand away. 

“It’s exfoliant,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I was rinsing it off when you knocked.” He turns from you and goes back inside, but leaves the door open for you to follow. You do, curious, and trail him all the way to his bathroom sink, where Steve bends at the waist, splashing water on his face. 

“Stevie,” you guffaw, staring in astonishment at the products lined up on his counter. “Is all of this yours?”

“Yep,” he says, patting his face dry with a towel. “Laugh all you want, but all this?” He gestures with a circular motion to his face. “It doesn’t just happen. It takes work. A process.” 

You hold your hands up innocently, but a smile plays at your lips. “Hey, I respect it. Whatever makes you look like this is good with me.” 

Steve quirks an eyebrow at your abnormally explicit flirtation. “Yeah? Good, because it’s all for you, honey.” 

Your face warms, and you’re quick to change the subject. “So, what does it do? The exfoliate?”

“Exfoliant,” he corrects you. “It gets rid of any dead skin and leaves your face smooth.” 

You nod pensively. You have always thought Steve had unnaturally soft, glowy skin. 

“And this,” he says, picking up another bottle from the counter and squirting a small amount onto his finger tip. “Is moisturizer. It’s supposed to be anti-aging, so I’ll stay looking like this forever.” 

You laugh as he rubs it into his skin. “Great, so the rest of us are just supposed to get old and ugly and you’ll still look like you’re in your twenties?”

“Pfft, as if you could ever be ugly.” Steve waves you off. “If you wanna try some for fun, though, you’re welcome to.” 

You roll your eyes at him, holding out your palm, but he pumps the product into his own hand again, using his fingertips to smooth it onto your face. You stretch your neck for him as he works it under your jaw, and you’re sure he sees your nervous swallow. 

“It feels nice,” you say once he’s done, touching your fingers to your cheek. Your eye catches on another bottle. “What’s that one do?”

Soon you’ve been exfoliated, toned, and are laying on Steve’s bed with a goopy mask covering everything but your eyes. 

“Smells pretty,” you murmur, careful not to move your mouth too much as Steve comes to lie beside you, his own mask in place. 

“It’s watermelon-scented,” he replies. “Supposed to brighten.” 

You don’t really understand how your skin can brighten (is that the glowy thing?), but you’re enjoying this time with Steve, and the pleasant scents are an added bonus. 

“Could I maybe do this with you again?”

Steve grins at you, not seeming to care as his face mask globs a bit around his mouth. “Totally! I do this once a week, but I have dry skin. We could make you your own skincare routine and everything. It’ll be fun!” 

You smile back at him, endeared and a bit surprised by how into this he seems. “Okay, what would I need to do?”

“Well, first we have to figure out what kind of skin you have. Have you noticed if you get oily?” You shake your head cluelessly. “That’s okay. We’ll figure that out, and then plan out your regimen from there. I’m thinking a clay mask, exfoliant of course, maybe an overnight serum…”You listen to him ramble on, not really following and beginning to get the sense that a lot of your paycheck is about to go towards this new routine. Anything that means you’ll get to see Steve this excited, though—anything that means you’ll get to see Steve, period—is definitely worth it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve drabble #steve baby blurb #steve fanfiction #steve fanfic #steve fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington imagine #stranger things

[baurbiediv]

hate to be lame {3}

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x pogue!reader

WARNING(S) ➔ water being thrown, physical fighting (pushing, punches), screaming match between reader & kiara

SYNOPSIS ➔ you and jj seem to be getting back on track, but when a certain someone is trying to get in between the two of you again? you take matters into your own hands.

SIDE NOTE ➔ wish i could give creds to the gif owner!! if anyone knows who it is, please tag them so i can give rightful creds!! (FUCKK, he looks so good in that gif but then again i felt so bad for him in this scene ://)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➔ once again, i am NOT a kie anti, just for the storyline + LAST PART!!

parts one + two

-

“i pushed you away because i fucked up. a couple days after the argument, i told kiara everything. my head was everywhere and .. and we made out.”

your own boyfriend pushed you away and made out with not only someone else but of all people, your own best friend. truth be told, you wanted to lash out at him, he knew there were boundaries set and he broke them.

if you were to go do the same thing he did, jj would be looking for the guy and trying to knock his head off backwards right now. but you’d be crowned ‘bitch of the year award’ for going after kiara, but rightfully so, she knew it was wrong.

she knew you and jj were in a bad spot right then and she took that as an opportunity for herself to get what she had wanted.

you never tried anything like that whenever she had her eyes set for someone else because you knew better than that. but now the flip in you was teetering between off and on.

it was a silent night, the faint sound of the water being carried along with the wind was the only thing to be heard, besides the loud cheering of the group.

you ultimately decided to get out of the hot tub and make your way into the chateau hoping that a certain someone would follow you in. “i should go and talk to her.” kiara said as she watched you disappear into the house, sarah looked over at kiara, “just know that if she beats your ass, you deserved it!” cleo said just before laughing. john b, pope, and jj oblivious to the conversation.

sarah snickered before kiara sent her a glare, which caused the blonde to look away before coughing. kiara hopped out the hot tub and trailed into the chateau, seeing your figure in the kitchen.

she took a deep breath, “y/n?” she called out. mentally cursing yourself out, you rolled your eyes, “in the kitchen!” you yelled back before grabbing what you needed. kie approached you with her hands in her back pockets, “look, i know you hate me right now but that might be an understatement, and i don’t blame you for it. i just want to apologize to you, it wasn’t cool and i wanna know if we’re cool.” she said, a slight smile prominent on her face.

you nodded and pushed your tongue into your cheek before throwing water into her face, prompting you to hop off the counter you were sitting on. “you just ‘wanna know if we’re cool?’, you kissed my boyfriend kiara! you of all people should’ve known how incredibly fucked up that is.” you spat back at her, your temper was at an all time high.

you pushed past her and made your way out the chateau. kiara chase you out the house and catching up to you as you were on the steps. without hesitation she pushed you, not rough enough for you to fall but enough for you to merely lose your balance and stumble down the steps.

sarah and cleo had now begun to watch this go down, the two of you telling in the distance. and yet again the boys oblivious to this as the three of them were on the dock talking about whatever had been on their minds.

“what is wrong with you!” kiara yelled as she finally reached you at the bottom of the porch. before your mind could react, your body did it for itself. in a quick second, your fist connected with the left side of her face which send her flying back.

cleo made a ‘damn i know that hurt’ face as sarah quickly looked over at cleo, “i think we should stop them before it gets serious.” sarah said nervously.

cleo just shook her head before laughing, “ah ah, kiara had it coming. look sarah, if some girl did this with john b, you’d do the same thing.” she said patting sarah’s shoulder.

within moments kiara was able to get two hits in, one to your lip, and a scratch across your cheek.

pope now witnessed the two of you in the distance, “guys! look,” pope nearly yelled, pointing over at the chateau, john b and jj who were bickering about something stupid, quickly turned to where pope pointed to.

jj squinted his eyes, “is that y/n and kie?” he said now standing up. the three boys ran up the dock and up to the hot tub where cleo and sarah had now become bystanders to the whole ordeal.

by now you were standing face to face with kiara. you “what’s wrong with me? i’ll tell you what’s wrong with me,”

fists balled up to the point they almost turned white.

“you, my own best fucking friend, went behind my back and made out with my boyfriend. kiara, you had the nerve to sit in my face and never tell me what went down. some fucking friend you are. and you think that magically, y/n will be completely okay with you macking on her boyfriend! wake up and get out of kiaraland. not everything will play into your hand like you want it to.”

you said as your finger nearly pried into her collarbone, making sure she felt and understood every single word that came out of your mouth.

before anyone could say anything else, this moment had flashed before everyone’s eyes. you tackled her and let your fists nearly pummel her face in. john b and jj quickly made their way over to you, jj pried you off of kiara as john b got kiara off the ground.

what a way to end a night.

-

sitting quietly, in the living room as jj tended to the cuts on your face, “never did i think we’d be doing this the other way around.” jj said as he lightly cracked a smile.

uncontrollably, you also smiled at that. “if i’m gonna be honest, i could’ve slapped you back there, too, but i felt like that would’ve been too much for one night.”

you said looking at jj which prompted him to let out a laugh. “but if i’m gonna be honest, that was really hot.” he admitted, which made you raise an eye brow. “i gotta see that side of you more often,” he said getting all excited.

“it was like something straight out of an action movie, i mean seriously y/n!” he exclaimed as you laughed.

he got up and started mimicking all kinds of different sound effects and started to reenact everything that went down. “you’re such a dork!” you said as you began to laugh.

he plopped back down on the couch and looked at you, “i’m a dork for you and you only y/n.” he said lightheartedly, before placing a kiss on your nose.

“i love you jayj.”

“i love you too y/n.”

-

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank

[rubyreduji]

🧸 Woooo happy anniversary/3k! =D May I ask for a Woozi drabble? I'm thinking something along the lines of the reader being a witch/magic user but she's also a witch/magic user hunter, tracking down those that misuse their power against normal folk. She goes above and beyond to hide this from Woozi but he and a few of the members just so happen to be near during one of her fights. Plot twist: he already knew! Fluffy romance, if you please. I hope this is okay, thanks so much!

— sleepover event now over!! 🧸️

the witches in the woods - ljh

summary: being a witch and a witch hunter is not always the easier, having to keep your two identities separate, but it’s the job you have to do to keep from your crush finding out

tags: fluff, witch & witch-hunter!reader, witch-hunter!jihoon, f!reader wc: 1.7k an: this made me miss watching the owl house lol </3 so some of the powers may be based off that…this is a bit more plot than fluff but i hope you enjoy!

“Pull back! They outpower us!” You hear Seungcheol’s call from your earpiece.

You know if your whole team was here you guys would be able to take them on, but your whole team isn’t here, deciding to split up earlier. The thing is your split up team couldn’t take them, but you can. You tune out Seungcheol’s orders, continuing hot on the trail of the five witches ahead of you.

You can already feel your magic coursing through your veins as you start to gain on them. It’s been so long since you’ve been in a proper fight, always relying on your team rather than your powers, keeping them a secret from anyone else.

It’s not like being a witch is uncommon in this day and age, but when you work a job with the title “Witch Hunter” it’s probably best to keep that part of your identity secret. Though you’re fairly sure that even if your team did find out it wouldn’t change anything, you don’t want to run the risk if you don’t have to. 

That being said, you quite miss using your powers and you can help but let giddiness overtake you as you chase after the other witches. You can hear their snickers of joy, thinking they’ve gotten away, but you’re not going to let that happen.

You raise your hand, feeling your mind and body connect with the woods around you. You focus your energy into the tree branches before you clench your fist and drag it down, causing all of the branches to grow down into a wall, cutting off the path from the witches. Before they even have time to process what just happened, you throw your hand back into the air, raising vines from the ground to wrap around their bodies and suspend them in the air.

“What the- there!” One of them calls, pointing at where you stand a few feet away.

“A witch!” Another shouts.

“Traitor!” The first one yells. “You’re a witch, what are you doing helping the enemy?”

“Enemy?” You spit out. “The only enemy is you guys. No witch should ever misuse their powers yet you guys run around and do nothing but commit crimes. People are getting hurt because of you!”

The man chuckles. “What’s the point of powers if you can’t enjoy them? Who cares if some people get hurt? That adds to the fun!”

You roll your eyes. You don’t know why you’re standing here listening to them. They’re the ones who are on the unfortunate side of this predicament. 

You wrap a vine around their mouths in hopes to shut them up as you reach for the anti-magic cuffs on your belt. You push the vines to the ground, pinning the witches down. You move over to them, snapping the cuffs on the loud-mouthed man who is clearly the leader of them. He curses you out the whole time and you wish you also had tape on you to shut him up.

You’ve clicked the cuff on the second person and are moving to the third when you hear a shout. “Y/N!” It’s Jihoon. 

Jihoon, the one person who absolutely can not find out you’re a witch. Not only due to your eensy weensy crush on him, but also due to the fact that he comes from the longest standing dynasty of witch hunters. 

In a mere second, your concentration is lost, the vines loosening their grips on the witches, allowing the three uncuffed ones to quickly break out of them. Out of the corner of the eye you see a flash from the trees and you recognize the figure as Jihoon.

Shit.

“Y/N, watch out!” You whip around to see a rock hurtling towards your face. You quickly shoot your hand up, stopping the rock and making it crumble into tiny pieces. A flicker of shock passes the attacking witch’s face. 

Jihoon isn’t the only one coming from a long line of powerful people. It’s not common for witches to be able to harness multiple kinds of magic, but you’re a bit special.

Normally if it was just you, you’d be able to wipe all three of the witches out, but you now have to think about Jihoon standing a few feet behind you. You don’t have much time to assess the situation either, with attacks coming at you from three ways. It’s taking all of your energy and focus just to be on defense, let alone offense.

“Y/N!” You can hear Jihoon’s approaching and you quickly create a vine to block him off from the fight.

“Jihoon, stay back! I have it covered.” A fireball shoots past your head right as you say this and you quickly pull your attention back to the fight.

You sweep your arm in one large arc, growing the ground up to trap the witches’ feet. With the few seconds of distress you’ve put them in you regrow the vines around their bodies, trapping their hands to their sides. 

You don’t allow yourself to lose focus this time, carefully placing the handcuffs securely on the final three witches’ wrists. They’re all grumbling as you do so, even one going far as to spit at your feet.

Once all five of them are firmly secured again, you finally withdraw Jihoon’s restraints. You don’t look at him as you hear him call Seungcheol through your communication devices, giving him the update on your positions and the status of the witches.

You busy yourself with getting yourself recomposed until Seungcheol and Vernon run up. “Woah,” Seungcheol mutters, looking at the damage of the woods and the vines wrapped around the witches. “Well, uhm, good work team. Let’s gather up the others and get these guys out of here.”

No one speaks about the elephant in the room as your team regroups and waits for the people from the Witch Hunter’s Association to come and pick the witches up. As soon as Seungcheol releases you all, you quickly book it, heading far away from your team.

“Y/N, wait!” Somehow in just two words, dread fills your body. You want to run away, or even use a spell to disappear, but you know you can’t run away forever. You take a deep breath before turning around to face the one and only Lee Jihoon.

You can’t read the emotion on his face and you can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. Deep down you know that Jihoon won’t do anything to you, but that doesn’t help the way your throat tightens as you stare at him. You’re both still in your hunter gear and you really take in Jihoon. He looks exactly like his father, the man most notorious for locking away the most witches in the history of witch hunters.

The gear looks comfortable on his body, his boots well worn and his pants faded from prolonged use. His gloves and goggles both stick out of his pockets and his belt is well loaded with gear, Jihoon never low in stock.

You open your mouth, like you’re about to say something, but the words don’t come out and you’re glad they don’t because you’re not sure what you even want to say. You close your mouth instead.

“Can we talk?” Jihoon’s voice is soft, like he’s also unsure of his words.

“U-uhm, su-ure,” you say, hating the shakiness in your voice.

“Let’s walk.” Jihoon starts to walk, walking past you as he does. You’re forced to follow, a few steps behind him. “You know, I was never going to go into this field. I was going to be the first in my family to do something that wasn’t witch hunting, yet here I am. Ask me why?”

“…Why?”

“Because I wanted to be better than my dad. Better than the rest of my whole family.” For a second, you wonder if Jihoon is going to kill you right here on the spot. “My job as a witch hunter is to incarcerate every bad witch, and to protect every good witch from dangers coming from their own people, and from my own people.”

Your pace slows down as you listen to Jihoon talk, eventually stopping just so you can stare at him. Jihoon senses you’re not with him anymore and stops as well, turning to face you. His gaze finally meets yours for the first time since in the woods. 

“I’m not mad at you Y/N. I don’t care that you’re a witch, because you’re a good person. You’re my friend, and you’ve proved time and time again where your morals stand. Everyone on the team knows that too, so don’t be afraid. Not to mention you’re a valuable asset to us, we’d be fools to let you go over something as trivial as something you can’t change about yourself.”

Your body is flooded with relief. Your heart lightens at Jihoon’s words.

“I- thank you,” you say, tears brimming in your eyes.

Jihoon walks closer to you, so you’re face to face. “I may have…also known,” he admits.

You go slack jawed. “How?!”

Jihoon chuckles at you. “When you come from a long line of witch hunters you learn to pick up on things, and it’s not like your own lineage is too secretive. I may have also caught you using your powers one day.”

You groan, causing Jihoon to laugh again.

“I don’t know why I was so worried,” you murmur. “I know you and the guys on the team aren’t like that…but-”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad that we’re good.”

“Yeah…good,” you mutter. You and Jihoon stand there in silence for a moment and you wonder if this is your cue to part ways. You’re about to walk away from Jihoon when he stops you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Actually I uh…if you wouldn’t mind, would you perhaps tell me more about witches? Maybe over dinner one night?”

You raise an eyebrow at Jihoon. “Was that an attempt…to ask me out?”

You try to hide your giddiness at the idea, choosing to tease him instead.

You watch as Jihoon’s ears turn red. “I- maybe. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be focused on the witch thing. You’re so much more than that. So Y/N, will you please do me the honors of letting me take you out for dinner, on a date? And we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

You grin at Jihoon, wide and bright. “I would love to. And don’t worry, I’ll give you all the details about being a witch. Maybe you’ll even get to meet my parents.”

Jihoon turns even redder, and you’re not sure if it’s from the notion of him meeting your parents, or him coming in contact with some of the most powerful witches of the century. Either way, you’re sure that dating Jihoon is going to be nothing but fun.

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