#always self-deprecating beliefs :)

[ardentpoop]

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 164 }

of gifts and curses.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ i see your face with every punch i take | and every bone i break, it's all for you | and my worst pains are words i cannot say | still i will always fight on for you… }

the coppery taste of blood had come to be something jinwoo was most accustomed to.

back when he was still a level-e hunter, nearly killing himself with each and every raid that he went on, the pain and agony of the gates he was subjected to nearly made him give up-

but he held on.

not just because his sister needed him-

not just because his mother was subjected to a permanent slumber-

but because he wanted to get stronger for you, too.

you were someone that became a constant comfort for him, spending your days tending to his wounds while helping him care for jinah during the times he was away risking his life during these raids. without fail, whenever jinwoo would go on these raids (and escaping them after barely surviving)-

you would somehow always find a way to greet him from the gate’s exit.

seeing your kind smile and the way you held out your arms for him, allowing him to slump against you in a warm embrace, his scrawny arms bringing your comforting form ever so closer to him as he allowed the tears to fall.

you would remain by his side, giving him cans of his favorite brand of coffee while replenishing his energy with all of his favorite snacks. and when his injuries became too dire, you would stay up with him throughout the late hours of the night, tending to his wounds to the best of your abilities.

your stable presence and belief in him was enough to make him confess his love for you, keeping you by his side in an almost selfish manner, since he knew that with the way he was now, there wasn’t a damn thing he could offer you-

but by some stroke of luck, you never seemed to care about the things he could not offer you, still loving him unconditionally despite it all.

jinwoo believed that he had truly found a soulmate in you, and surprisingly, he found himself not minding his weak self…

you had let him slowly begin to love himself thanks to the unconditional love you held for him.

he always believed that he could never change no matter how hard he tried-

yet such self deprecating thoughts all but disappeared into thin air when he was met with the double dungeons, one that made him realize what true fear was the moment he died-

and was given a second chance at life-

reborn into something far more powerful than what he could ever imagine.

it was through his newfound identity as the system’s sole player that he was able to break out of the chains that labeled him as the weakest in the world. when he was brought to the hospital and made the mistake of ignoring the system’s first request, the punishment for not completing the task in the allotted time-

it had sent him to another world surrounded by desert sand as he was forced to survive within its borders while escaping from the beast that dwelled inside the heart of the desert.

needless to say, jinwoo didn’t ignore a single quest like that ever again.

on top of how he was literally leveling up with each quest he completed, you still remained by his side, often taking turns with jinah when it came to visiting him at the hospital.

and despite how he never told you or jinah about the truth of his resurrection, it was clear that you could tell the subtle changes his body was going through. when you visited him at the hospital one late afternoon, bringing with you the lunch you had cooked for him, you would remain strictly by his side.

as if you were glued to him, you would cling to his left arm while he ate his ramyun, looking down at you with an amused expression before asking you, “what’s wrong?”

a cute little pout would paint your gorgeous features as you merely tightened your hold on him in response. “the nurses were gossiping about you… calling you hot… and i didn’t like them checking out what’s already been mine from the start.”

feeling amused (yet filled to the brim with love and affection for you) he leans down to press a kiss against your hair, all while silently promising to not only get stronger for his family-

but for you as well.

and he could not thank the system for making him into the man that he was today.

he had grown taller.

his face had lost its prior roundness, becoming more defined while his voice seemed to deepen with a newfound confidence, losing the prior meekness it once had.

the system had given him the gift of becoming a powerful mage; a necromancer that could turn each enemy he had slain into his own, obedient soldiers.

with every battle he’s faced-

and with every bone that he breaks, filling his mouth with the taste of blood as a grueling pain courses through him-

still he fought on, just for you.

you, who had never once left his side despite the growing darkness that was beginning to seep into his veins.

you, who remained blissfully unaware at how he had killed numerous men during the times he spent within each dungeon, secretly turning those who wished to harm him into his own personal shadow soldier-

(a feat that would always be kept as a secret from you.)

and it was during his walk home back to you that he could feel the exhaustion beginning to kick in. despite how his injuries were healed, his stamina had remained the same, remaining severely low as he struggled to remain upright.

jinwoo needed to see you again.

he needed to have you in his arms before pressing your body closer to his, allowing him bask in your warmth- in your light.

for what seemed like an eternity, jinwoo finally reaches your shared apartment, unlocking it while letting out a weak, “i’m home.”

his voice was a bit broken and cracked, but he immediately silenced himself upon seeing the television screen turned on, painting your sleeping figure settled on the couch in colorful hues as the shadow soldier he had assigned to you peered up at him with glowing, purple eyes.

jinwoo winks at his soldier, raising up a finger in a gesture that was meant to convey be quiet. he tiptoes closer to where you lay against the couch, taking the remote off the coffee table before shutting off the t.v. screen.

with his heightened senses, he was able to still see your form despite the complete and utter darkness, leaning down to hold you within his embrace as he carried you (bridal style) back into your shared room.

as he worked on laying you back down in bed, you stirred in your sleep while softly whispering his name, making jinwoo smile down at you in response.

“ssssh, it’s okay. i’m here now… and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassures you before getting into bed with you, basking in the way you seemed to know where he was while you gravitated towards him. your cheek was already resting against his chest, eyes never once opening when you cuddled yourself even closer to him, greedily basking in his warmth as your chest was pressed together in response, not even leaving a millimeter of space between your two forms.

jinwoo continues to stare blankly at the ceiling, mulling over his thoughts while massaging your scalp and running his fingers through your hair. in the dead of night, where the only movements were seen with the soldiers he had placed surrounding the parameters of the bedroom, he closes his eyes while murmuring your name.

“i love you… everything that i do- it’s all for you.”

you mutter something in your sleep, making jinwoo smile when he turns around to fully embrace you, pressing you tightly against his chest as he brought his lips to your forehead. after whispering of his love and devotion to you one last time, he closes his eyes and joins you in a peaceful slumber…

{ this gift is my curse for now… }

a.n. - yellowcard’s { gifts and curses } played on my playlist and i was hit with such feels that i had to write something for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[beegalactica]

The real 'glow-up' is all mental.

With it being the prime season for the 'how to glow up' guides to make their rounds in the media we consume, it is always worth reminding yourself that the only way you are going to 'glow up' on the outside is if you 'glow up' on the inside.

I personally get annoyed with the whole glowing-up phenomenon because it perpetuates this idea that there is some kind of 'end goal' in life and once you reach it, everything will be perfect. In a world where the idea of what it means to be attractive, intelligent, successful, or desirable in any way is constantly changing, there is only one constant: YOU.

You are a lifelong investment, and you are worth every penny, second, and ounce of effort you put into yourself.

Let's go over some of my glow-up tips and habits for you this year and examine how much of your levelling-up will really need to take place in your head.

Invest in your hygiene. This doesn't mean buying the most expensive skincare and having a 30-step routine, this means brushing your teeth every day, taking showers regularly and looking after your hair. Of course, we all want to achieve that 'clean girl aesthetic' but to me, simple hygiene is the best way to send a message to your body and mind that you care. Nothing says "I love you just the way you are" to your body like taking the time to clean it, care for it and pay attention to what it needs.

Invest in your surroundings. Now I know, making your bed every morning can be an unnecessary waste of time, especially if you're just going to end up getting back into it at night, but I like to think that my surroundings reflect my mental state, so if my room is a mess, best believe my mind is a mess too.

Invest in your interests. Start a hobby, pick up a new skill, try to find a book that interests you, or even start a Tumblr blog 😉😉! This year, I am focusing on really cultivating myself and becoming an interesting person who has things to talk about with people, instead of mindless gossip or resulting in self-deprecation to entertain others.

Invest in your happiness. Do what makes you happy. Distance yourself from those who seek to pull you down, to prop themselves up. You are worth so much more than that. Sometimes, those people are in our households, and the only way to cope is to know what makes us feel good and chase that happiness. Know that whatever issue you are facing shall pass and you will feel good again.

There is a common belief among people who may struggle with their self-image that once they fix this, or change that, everything will be perfect, but as someone who has had that mentality, it won't. If you want to lose 10kg for example, but hate your current body, waking up skinny tomorrow won't fix that voice in your head that tells you that you're still not good enough. If you love yourself as you are, and acknowledge that exercising is a form of self-love, and it doesn't take away from it, that mental glow-up will begin to manifest itself physically.

What's the point of others complimenting you daily if you don't believe it or can't accept it because you don't think of yourself the way that they do?

Trust me when I say this, my biggest milestone on my 'glow up journey' was not losing x amount of weight, but looking at myself in the mirror, first thing in the morning with no make-up or styling, and still being able to say "Damn, I'm so beautiful." And I can confidently tell you that to reach this point, I didn't set the intention of losing weight and trying to become more beautiful, I set the intention of loving and accepting myself the way that I am and all the actions that followed after stemmed from this love that I have. I didn't feel the need to exercise because I wanted to be skinny, but because I knew that it was what my body needed, and I loved my body so much that I was willing to do that for her.

It's easy to get wrapped up in so many things and lose sight of yourself, but when that phone is off and you're all alone, disconnected from the rest of the world, what do you say to yourself?

P.S. If you're reading this thank you all for the love on my first post! Opening Tumblr every day to new notifications has created this sort of excitement and extreme joy that I didn't even know was possible! Stay safe and take care of yourself 💗💓

[satansindexfinger]

Hc of The brothers and accidental kiss

Note: Thanks for the request! I'm a sucker for these ahshd

Warnings: none

Summary: You leaned over the demons shoulder, intending on handing him a report/class notes. You called his name while doing so, naturally prompting him to turn his head your direction... only for your lips to connect due to the miscalculation of distance between your faces.

Fluff; GN! MC, Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeous;Beelzebub; Belphegor

Lucifer

Oh.

O h. Lucifer certainly didn't expect to meet your lips when he was about to thank you for handing the paperwork. He had been too engrossed in his work to notice where you were situated.

Aside from his pupils dilating, he makes no visable reaction. Expects you to be the first to separate from the kiss. Definently not because he's internally flustered beyond belief and stuck in place. No sir.

Once you pull away his eyes will linger on you for a few beats, taking in your expression; you liked that, right? Your face is adorable when you're flushed like that. It takes Lucifer every bit of will he has not to let his own blush show.

Has the nerve to appear completely unbothered and even smirk.

"Well.. that was unexpected. I must say, I am kind of dissappointed - it wasn't a proper kiss. How about we try that again, if you don't mind? Come closer."

Mammon

It takes a moment for Mammon's brain to send him signals about what's happening. As soon as it does, this man is shooting backwards so fast he trips over air and falls on his back.

An absolute mess. Stuttering, blushing, covering his mouth, the whole nine yards. His fingers keep trailing on his lips, you notice. Cannot look you in the eyes to save his life.

"W-what's the big idea, sneakin' up on me like that?! Scared the crap outta me.. give me a warnin' n-next time, ya dumb human! How bold can ya get, doin' that to me?!"

Mammon, you're the one who turned.

Once he's calmed down he gets back up and makes an attempt to face you again. Albeit with a blush going up his ears and fingers still on his lips; as if he's savoring your exchange.

"No fair.. I wanted our first kiss to be special, damnit. So this one doesn't count, okay?!"

Immediate regret felt and tantrum thrown after he realizes what he just said.

Leviathan

If you thought Mammon had a freakout... oh boy. Levi is ten the times embarrassed and overreacting. Looks like he's committed every possible crime; he's that emotional about it.

Both hands covering his overly red face, speech too frantic for you to understand aside from a few 'sorry's and some self deprecating comments.

The situation reminds Levi of a certain anime and that only makes him more flushed, and somewhat wistful. He liked it, dont get him wrong! He just thinks you might have not appreciated it like he did.

Please reassure him. The avatar of envy needs it as to not regret it for the rest of his life.

"A-are you sure it's okay? I mean, we just k-kissed, y'know?! This kind of thing only happens in my fantasy world.. wait, h-hold on, I didn't mean-"

Has trouble looking you in the eyes after that little incident. Keeps the memory of it close to his heart though, and always will.

Satan

It takes him off guard for about two seconds. In those two seconds he debates on whether he should deepen the kiss, since it's something he's been wanting for awhile, or if he should pull away. He decides on the latter as he wants to confirm your feelings (if you have any) before doing that.

"Ah.. sorry about that. I didn't realize you were that close."

Treats it like it's no big deal, but his heart it hammering inside his chest. And you don't miss the faint blush on his cheeks as he coughs in his hand in an attempt to change topic.

Thanks you for the notes and makes casual conversation, hoping to change the mood and pretend the kiss never happened.

Satan's eyes seem to, unconsciously, trail towards your lips when he's talking to you for the next week or so.

Try as he might he cannot forget that brief moment and will bring it up to you, asking if you liked it and if you'd rather get a proper kiss from him.

Asmodeous

Surprised as he is, Asmo wastes no time in keeping your lips pressed just a second longer than would be considered accidental. It's his way of enticing you, hoping you liked the taste of him enough to ask for more.

Pretends to be shocked, squealing and giggling like a high school girl. All the while teasing you like

"Oh, sorry honey! Then again.. was it really an accident~? It's okay to admit you just wanted to kiss me! I would never deny you that. You were so sneaky with it too~ Ahh, it's adorable!"

You'd think the avatar of lust doesn't think much of it.. if it weren't for all the situations he'd tried to get both of you into where just a turn of his head would result in you "accidentally" kissing again.

Is honestly flabbergasted you don't intentionally seek out his lips after that! Maybe he should try harder to captivate you next time~

Beelzebub

It takes you pulling away sharply for Beel to realize what had just happened. He's a bit frozen in place, the hands holding his snacks at a standstill while a faint blush decorates his face.

"Ah, sorry... thanks for the homework, MC."

His face doesn't return to its normal colour the rest of the day. He apologizes again if he's made you uncomfortable, even if it was an accident and he had no way of predicting it.

It is kind of a problem for Beel.. he enjoyed the taste of your lips, brief as it was, more than any kind of food he'd put past them. He's hungry in a way he didn't even conceive before.

But Beel is respectful. Will not bring the incident up until you do, and if you do he will make it known he enjoyed it.

"Sorry again, MC. It's just... I want more. You don't have to kiss me again if you don't want to but.. Could you?"

Belphegor

Tries to appear unbothered and apathetic but the colour on his cheeks, going all the way up his ears gives his true feelings away. He cannot meet your eyes too, trying to distract himself.

"Jeez... thanks for the papers, but you didn't have to get all close like that. What if I butted my head on yours? You'd probably be crying instead of giving me the face you are right now."

Belphie, you can't even see their face with how you refuse to look at them-

Waves his hand in an attempt to dismiss you and assures you he's got whatever it is he needed the notes for.

Although as soon as you make your move to leave, Belphie is giving you a confused look and tugging at your sleeve.

"Really? You're gonna pretend this didn't happen and just leave me like that? I don't think so. Either tell me what you thought about it or just.. let me redo it."

[gigidragonbbxxx]

regarding mental diet

discipline. consistency. THIS IS HOW YOU MANIFEST.

it is the discipline and consistency in acknowledging the things in your 3D that you want and ignoring the stuff that you do not identify with.

Yes Gigi, we know that why are you saying something EVERYONE says?

bc dear reader and loass community, i'm gonna say something that might be known but I don't see stated enough:

To be a master manifester, you break your old realities and create new ones - AND A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME GETTING ON THIS LEVEL BECAUSE THEY ARE UNWILLING TO LET GO OF HABITS THAT DO NOT SERVE THEM.

AKA = YOU MUST BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO BE DIFFERENT.

You hear me???

YOU MUST BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO BE DIFFERENT.

AND THIS IS WHAT MENTAL DIET IS: NOT GIVING IN TO EVERY TREND, EVERY LIL SONG, EVERY TV SHOW, ETC. IF IT DOES NOT HELP YOUR MIND BE SATURATED WITH BEING IN YOUR FAVOR.

I'll cite an example many of us go through: a friend who doesn't know the law and only wants to talk about how horrible men are. This friend is also addicted to complaining. What have so many loass practicing people have said? They've either 1) told that friend they don't want to talk about that stuff or 2) spent less time with that friend.

it's an experience so many in the community go through and many benefit from limiting their exposure to that type of person. because what is the point of spending time affirming lies like "life has to be hard" "life is unfair" "I always get treated like shit by men" "I'm never first choice" like EW!? guys, learn to get the ICK from this type of talk!!! there is no benefit from this energy.

YOU GET TO DECIDE WHAT YOU WANT TO EXPOSE YOURSELF TO. SO STOP MINGLING WITH ENERGY THAT DOES NOT SERVE YOU. IF YOU HAVE TIME TO THINK BADLY, YOU HAVE TIME TO THINK POSITIVELY!!!

Be willing to WALK AWAY. Be willing to be the one to say "This is not for me" if a convo is full of limited beliefs. Be willing to not participate in trends like making tiktoks about self deprecating jokes or tweet about toxic things. Be willing to say "Oh i never say those things about myself."

Let me explain what prompted me to write this:

I saw THE CUTEST lil key chains or cases made by a small business. I love to reblog cute things on my main account on twt (not my loass burner) and tbh I've manifested getting some of those cute things by making a lil placebo that whatever I retweet is mine/fact.

The first case/keychain thing was "Tummy Ache Survivor" which I thought was hilarious as I have a lot of Virgo energy in my life but the second image showcased another that said something along the lines of "Daily Dose of Dumb Baby Juice".

Guys.

Please.

Does a master manifester drink dumb baby juice? Or is she the operant power full of knowledge and wisdom leading a fulfilling life?

Now, I'm not a limiting typa gal okay? You can totally be "baby". You can totally live a soft live. Be a baby. Hell, I love being baby in a relationship. What I'm saying is even seemingly "harmless" things like that phrase...you have to have discernment in what could be unfavorable influences in your life.

Again, Gigi isn't telling you how to live your life. If you wanna declare "fuck off Gigi! I'm a dumb baby AND I manifest!" go ahead. If you wanna declare "fuck off Gigi! I can consume ANY CONTENT I want and manifest!" GO AHEAD.

BUT LETS DISCUSS SOME OBSERVATIONS IVE MADE ABOUT THE BIGGEST LOA COACHES/ACCOUNTS WITH THE MOST SUCCESS:

all of them. 100% of them. are careful about what they expose themselves to/say about themselves.

BECAUSE DOMINANT BELIEFS ARE WHAT MANIFESTS. SO WHY WASTE TIME CONSUMING CONTENT THAT GOES AGAINST WHAT YOU WANT YOUR DOMINANT THOUGHT PATTERN TO BE? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!

and I get the resistance to cut off things you mightve enjoyed. But i said it before and I'll repeat it again.

YOU MUST BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO BE DIFFERENT.

things gigi had to cut off:

sad songs on daily playlists

reality tv glorifying toxicity in relationships

accounts on twt that leaned heavily on "men are trash" mindset

conversations that were self-deprecating

and more but those are a few examples.

and you know what I have more time to do now, reader?

I have more time to affirm, to listen to subs, to write on this blog.

Because Manifestion is a Lifestyle. It's not a quick fix bc the outcome depends on the SOLIDITY of your BELIEF to enact CHANGE on the 3D.

so pls don't drink dumb baby juice. drink pretty girl juice. drink intelligent master manifester juice. drink "in my favor" juice.

with laughs and love, xx, gigi

p.s. I do not believe that this is an excuse to remain ignorant about world events and news. I encourage you to remain informed, intelligent people who do not lack awareness and instead are fully immersed in the nuance of balancing high self-esteem and understanding the political climate.

[anthurak]

Takeaways from the Volume 9 Epilogue:

--

One thing I really like about Oscar’s ‘If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you…’ monologue is that it laid out/confirmed something I’ve always felt was a major aspect of Oscar’s dynamic with Ruby that I nonetheless feel a lot of the fandom has missed: That Oscar very much sees Ruby as a mentor and an example to follow, and how their dynamic is specifically a foil to what we saw between Ruby and Ozpin. That Ruby acts as a mentor and example to Oscar in the same way Ozpin was to Ruby, and that Ruby is a far BETTER mentor and example to Oscar than Ozpin ever was to her. Which, as an aside, is a dynamic I can’t help but feel a lot of people have been misinterpreting as ‘ship-teasing’ and is one of the main reasons I’ve simply never been able to see Oscar as any kind of viable love-interest to Ruby. Frankly the dynamic of ‘Ruby is the mentor and example to Oscar that Ozpin couldn’t be for her’ is simply so much more INTERESTING than any kind of romance could ever hope to be.

--

Even in animatic form, Winter basically going overdrive on the maiden powers was a sight to behold. And her own monologue had all the self-deprecation we were expecting. Our girl is clearly holding on by a thread and it’s going to be REAL interesting seeing how she reacts and adjusts to her sister not actually being dead. As in, I can imagine a situation where Winter tries to throw herself into a heroic sacrifice with the belief that Weiss would make a better Maiden than her.

Also, Winter’s monologue giving major focus to how Penny is super-super-dead-dead-and-definitely-not-coming-back-for-really-realsies, as she is talking to the sister who she ALSO believes is DEFINITELY also dead? Specifically with the words that Penny is gone, when Penny’s last words to her were that she’d be ‘part of you’?

Yeah, there is no way in hell we’ve seen the last of Penny XD

--

The CROWN. Like it was only a few shots, but as someone who read the CFVY Books (which you totally should if you haven’t, they’re great), holy shit I was NOT expecting them to pop up here.

I mean, in hindsight it makes perfect sense that they’d be involved in Volume 10. They’re basically Vacuo’s equivalent to Vale’s criminal element and the White Fang splinter faction as Salem’s co-opted insurgency group, with Jax and Gillian joining Roman, Adam and Jacques as the latest of Salem’s unwitting patsies. It’s definitely going to be real interesting seeing the crew deal with them. Like it’s really fun to imagine Team RWBY in particular being kind of exasperated at seeing Jax’s probably doing a whole ‘With Salem’s help I shall be King!’ shtick after everything they’ve seen with Roman, Adam and Jacques.

Oh and if you don’t know, Jax has a mind-control semblance, so him trying to use that on Yang could actually lead to a sneaky callback to the Justice League crossover, ie; Yang doing a ‘Yeah, I’m not doing THAT shit again.’ XD

--

Qrow’s whole vibe through this is fascinating. Like his section may have been the one we already saw, but after seeing the abject depression and growing despair of all the other characters, Qrow actually being OPTIMISTIC hit so much harder.

--

Raven showing up at the end is… interesting.

I’ll admit that ever since we saw that specific clip a few months back, I’ve been rather conflicts about Raven showing up to deliver RWBY+J to Vacuo, particularly after Ruby’s tree vision. Like for one it felt a bit random and unnecessary. The tree already deposited the Ever After team outside of Vacuo so they didn’t exactly need help getting there. Not to mention that it kind of clotheslines the story-thread set up by Ruby’s vision; that she now has a reason to track Raven down to get the ANSWERS to what happened to Summer. Finally, it’s just kind of… random? Like where did Raven even come from to get the team?

But now having seen the clip with its intended context, I’m definitely more on board with it. Particularly hearing from Kerry and Eddy that the original ending for the penultimate episode had RWBY+J going through the portal to arrive at their memorial stone, and met by a ‘Mysterious Figure’, ie; Raven. Here it feels like were getting more set up to get answers later as to what Raven was doing at the memorial.

And really, now that I’ve thought about it more, this method kind of puts the thread of Ruby going to Raven for answers even MORE into focus. Like the story reintroduces Raven in the present right after Ruby got a vision basically saying ‘hey, Raven is important’. And now going into Volume 10, we’re pretty much perfectly positioned for Ruby to pull Raven aside for those all-important ‘Why were you fucking my mom? What happened to my mom?’ questions.

--

Finally… yeah that ending hit me a LOT harder than I was expecting. Like that ending was HOPE in its purest form and it was honestly beautiful to see. Particularly right now with the future of the show seeming so uncertain. I’ve personally been optimistic about RWBY’s future (in a manner not unlike Qrow’s vibes I suppose lol), but damn the hopefulness of that ending hit especially hard, and was something I’ll admit I needed. And I imagine the rest of us could use as well.

We'll be getting Volume 10. And 11, and 12, and however many more it takes to finish this story. At this point, I have no doubt of that.

[syn0vial]

a small list of personality traits observed in boba fett's character in the expanded universe series legacy of the force

i was compiling this list for my own writing reference for older (see: 60+) expanded universe boba fett but figured i might as well share it here as well! so, uh, here's a list of various boba fett personality traits i've observed while rereading the legacy of the force novels!

sarcastic and acerbic way of communicating. often frustrated by his own inability to be genuine and warm with people he cares about.

never raises his voice. gets annoyed when other people yell, esp over comms.

dry, self-deprecating sense of humor. doesn’t mind poking fun at his own ignorance or mistakes. 

cynical. tendency to expect the worst of people and situations. 

emotionally volatile: switches unpredictably between numb “scrupulous detachment” and overwhelming “raw emotions.”

uncomfortable in social/emotional situations. compares even basic social interaction to “a minefield.” “switches off” and/or attempts to flee when emotions become overwhelming. often relies on beviin to “haul him out of the mire” when he hits his limit socially or emotionally.

highly principled; always keeps his word, even when it pains him to do so. that said, in truly dire circumstances, is not above using wordplay to loophole his way out of a promise. like some fucked up fae. 

inner conflict between wanting to reconcile with/help/protect loved ones and deep-seated belief that he will inevitably bring them harm and suffering. 

often has violent thoughts about the people around him, including his loved ones, which contribute to his previously mentioned belief that he will inevitably cause harm to them. for example, he randomly feels the urge to strike mirta when she’s sitting next to him and gets a “predatory” feeling when he’s around a blinded sintas. feels disturbed by these thoughts, obviously never acts on them.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Idk if you write for them but what about a todoroki and Deku going on a blind date with a Chubby reader🤔 (btw miss ma’am you dropped this 🤲🏾👑)

Your Kind of Men (poly!bi!pro!TodoDeku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader SFW One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Izuku "Deku" Midoriya x Shoto Todoroki x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you go on a blind date set up by your friend and her pro hero partners, not realizing that you're about to get your chance to meet some pros yourself who are highly interested in having a third...and they hope that it's you.

Warnings: AgedUp!TodoDeku (they're in their late 20s-early 30s); Bisexual!TodoDeku; Polyamory; Sexual Fantasies; Flirting; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized (but anyone can still read this)

Writer's Note: Thank you for getting my crown for me, babe!! I hope you enjoy this! It's pretty tame except for the sex thoughts lol. Enjoy! -xoxo, Jazz

********

“I don’t know how I feel about this, girl,” you sigh into the phone, staring down at your cocktail. “You didn’t even tell me what they do! What if they’re serial killers or something?” 

You feel a nervous sweat coming on despite the cool air in the fancy restaurant and the spaghetti straps of your dress allowing you to stay cool. You took a shower and added as much deodorant to your pits and jiggly inner thighs as you could because of your paranoia of smelling, but that does nothing to stop you from breaking out in anxious perspiration. 

“Would you stop that?” Your friend complains. “I didn’t tell you about their jobs because I wanted to surprise you! If Bakugou and Kiri know them, trust me: they’re good guys.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to avoid an oncoming headache from too much stress. Though the fact that these “guys” are Bakugou aka pro hero Dynamight and Kirishima aka pro hero Red Riot’s longtime buddies, that doesn’t do much to ease your worries or mind. 

”Then they must be fine as fuck ‘cause your boyfriends are!” You groan, earning a giggle from your friend. “It’s not funny! I’m literally having a panic attack and I don’t think this cocktail is helping.” 

You stare down at your Perfect Peach cocktail made with vodka and peach preserves that is supposed to ease your nerves as you sit at the bar waiting for your blind date…or blind dates, rather. 

After further consideration and fantasizing about it for months, you confided in your friend about wanting to try a polyamorous relationship like she has with Bakugou and Kiri. She always seems so happy when she’s with them. You remember a time when you were happy like that with your boyfriend—everyday seemed sunny whenever he called or came to see you. 

But that was a year ago. After a very messy breakup which resulted in him moving away and immediately dating someone else, you did your best to forget him and move on. Getting back into the dating pool was the first step. You recently just started reviving your accounts on dating apps, but so far, none of them have sufficed. 

You often wonder how your friend did it—how she managed to bag not one but two pro heroes. And they’re so hot and sweet! Every time you see their big arms wrapped around your friend or see their smiles directed her way or see them pick her up from your crib and know she’s going to spend her night getting pleasured beyond belief by both of them, you can’t help but be jealous. 

Don’t get it twisted. You’re so happy for your friend! She deserves partners who adore her…but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t bother you that you don’t have that kind of relationship for yourself. 

Your friend’s calming voice pulls you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. ”Just calm down. It’s going to go great! But if it ever goes sideways or if you really feel like you can’t go through with this, just make some excuse, like I almost burned our crib down. Then you can leave!” 

”I’m not doing that,” you huff. “Your men went through all the trouble of booking this blind date for me. The least I can do is try to get through it.” 

Bakugou and Kiri specifically handpicked your blind dates for you tonight. They barely told you anything about them though. The only thing you know is that they’re friends. “You’ll love ‘em, doll!” Kiri told you. “I promise! These guys are super manly!” 

“They’re whatever,” Bakugou said, which didn’t help you at all. But then again, Bakugou was never good at giving compliments…unless those compliments are directed at your friend. 

“Well, to do that, you’ll have to get out of that head of yours,” your friend critically says. “Girl, you’re always overthinking! You like hot as fuck tonight and your dates will think so to. Just think about how they may even take you home tonight to get a piece of that nice, fat a—“ 

”And I’m hanging up,” you immediately announce, cringing at her hysterical laughter. “I just met the guys and it’s our first date! I’m not gonna—“ 

”Excuse me?” A rather familiar voice you can’t place politely asks you. You turn around, preparing to give this man the boot, but all of the words in your throat die when you get a look at who’s standing behind you. 

He is much taller and hotter in person, your embarrassingly large poster in your bedroom not doing you much justice. His gray vest, slacks, and white button-up shirt are rather tight on his toned body, his pecs and biceps pushing up against the fabric. The cutest freckles adorn his cheeks, almost popping out like a pop-up photo in a children’s book due to how green his hair and eyes are. They remind you of emeralds. 

Izumi Midoriya aka Deku, pro hero #1, in the flesh, is your date tonight. He gives you a kind, toothy smile, his hands behind his back. ”Are you Y/N?” He asks. 

Your mind is frozen in a block of ice, all thoughts and words put on pause. Too stunned to speak, you just nod. “Oh, good!” He sighs, relieved. “I thought I’d gotten the wrong person and embarrassed the hell out of myself!” He sheepishly laughs before passing you a bouquet of the most beautiful pink and yellow roses out from behind him. “For you,” he says, a light blush coating his cheeks. “Shoto picked ‘em. He’ll be in here soon.” 

Shoto. As in Shoto Todoroki pro hero #3. Bakugou is at #2 while Kiri is #4. If all goes well, you and your friend will be living the life dating such popular pro heroes. 

Wordlessly, you take the flowers, but not wanting to look like a crazy woman, you give Deku a smile. You just can’t believe this. You feel like you’re dreaming. “Y/N?” Your friend asks. “Helloooo? You there?” 

Brought back down to reality, you keep your eyes on Deku while you speak into your phone that you remember is pressed to your ear. “I’ve gotta go,” you abruptly say. “M-My dates are here.” Your friend just giggles. “Enjoy,” she sings. “Give me all the details when you get back.” 

Once she hangs up, the door to the restaurant opens. In walks your second date and Shoto is just as tall as Deku. He walks elegantly on long legs, his frame leaner than Deku’s, but muscled and toned. His black suit fits perfectly on him, giving him a dashing look that his long, red-and-white-toned hair tied in a ponytail only adds to. He looks like a damn fairytale prince coming to save you. 

His eyes meet yours and you swear he’s just as gorgeous in person. The burn scar over his eye only adds to his appearance, giving him a very sexy but unique look. He smiles at you and the air is immediately stolen from your plump, soft body. 

“You found her?” He asks, coming over to the bar to meet you. “I’m sorry, I was busy trying to find a parking spot. This restaurant is quite popular.” Deku nods, laughing. “That’s what it said on the website!” He chuckles. 

“Y/N, right?” Shoto asks, his silky voice directed at you. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Your friend told us all about you, but she left out how beautiful you are.” He sticks his hand out for a shake, his ringed fingers making you think of nasty things. You wouldn’t mind them wrapping around your neck or sliding inside of your—

”T-Thank you,” you say, finally finding your voice. You tentatively shake Shoto’s hand, shivering slightly at the wave of electricity you feel coursing through you at his touch. “I know who you are. Y-You’re Deku and Todoroki, pro heroes #1 and #3.” 

The duo share a look, both stunned. A mischievous smile stretches across Shoto’s face. “Someone’s a fan,” he teases. 

Deku rolls his eyes, criticizing his boyfriend. “Don’t tease her, Shoto,” he critically says before turning to you. “That, we are! I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. We’re really just normal people…who happen to have quirks.” He looks worried that the fact that they’re famous may make you feel weird, but that isn’t even half of it. How the fuck are you supposed to act normal around such hot men?! 

Swallowing harshly and taking a much-needed sip of your cocktail, you start to feel somewhat confident from the vodka. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both,” you giggle. “Should we sit?” 

Deku offers his hand to help you slide off of the barstool with your drink and flowers. You feel his hand lightly ghost the small of your back and your skin suddenly bursts with warmth like it’s on fire. Your dress only somewhat smooths your back rolls which most men aren’t too fond of. But Deku doesn’t seem to mind.

He leads you over to a table near a window overlooking the sidewalk and decorated with two candles. Shoto takes the chair you’re about to pull out and does it for you. “Please, allow me.” He patiently waits for you to sit down before pushing you in and then taking his seat with Deku across from you. 

Such a gentleman. You love gentlemen. They make your heart pound and your inner thighs clench together to avoid the throbbing sensation you feel already coming. 

The two handsome pros sit across from you, their attractive features illuminated by the candlelight. Luckily, your waitress comes over to get your appetizer orders and fetch the pros drinks before wandering off to put in your orders. 

Shoto clears his throat and is the first to fill the silence. “Sooo, Y/N,” he begins, your name sounding like smooth butter on his lips, “how in the world are you single as pretty as you are?” Heat coats your face at his boldness. You’re not used to receiving such compliments. 

“Shoto!” Deku growls, elbowing Shoto in the arm. “We’ve only known her for, like, five minutes!” Shoto side-eyes his boyfriend. “So you don’t think she’s pretty?” He deadpans, smirking at the bright red blush that coats Deku’s freckled cheeks. 

“You’ve got game,” you giggle, earning a proud smile from Shoto. “Well, I recently decided to start dating again after a breakup a year ago. I missed nights like these, getting dressed up and going out with handsome men.” 

You watch surprise alight in the couple’s eyes that quickly melt into something more intimate and passionate. Because now they know that you’re just as attracted to them as they are to you…so far. The shift makes you feel hot all over and you cross your legs. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

You shift slightly in your seat, clearing your throat. “S-So what about you two?” You softly stutter. “How long have you two been together? How come you’re looking for a third?” 

The two share a look and then a smile that grinds at your insides. You remember smiling that way at your person–so in love and content. ”Well, after five years of dating, we decided to venture into new experiences,” Deku answers. “We’ve both been interested in having a poly relationship for a while now, so we decided to give it a try.” 

He tells you that he and Shoto met in UA High and were friends at first before slowly becoming more. It’s a story fit for a friends-to-lovers book. Concern laces Shoto’s pretty, multicolored eyes. “And this is still okay with you? Seeing two men at the same time?” 

You want to correct him that they aren’t just any men. They’re pro heroes. Celebrities. They have status and notoriety. You would be hella stupid to say no to this. “Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve never dated two guys at the same time, but it never hurts to try something new.” 

Other than their perks as celebs, their easy-going personalities and warm nature make it especially hard to refuse them, so you feel comfortable saying yes. 

Shoto smiles, pleased with that answer, and raises his glass of red wine. “Cheers to new experiences then.” Deku raises his wine glass while you raise your cocktail before leaning to clink glasses and taking a sip in unison. You feel much better already. 

Deku suddenly gasps, his emerald eyes twinkling in excitement. “You have an All Might keychain too?” He gasps, staring down at your phone. “That’s so cute! I still carry mine around as a lucky charm.” Shoto rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, chuckling into his wine. “He can sit here all night talkin’ ‘bout All Might. Just warning you.” 

You giggle and tell Deku that you bought it at Hot Topic when the store was celebrating All Might’s birthday. A text from your friend asking if you’re okay suddenly pops up on your phone sitting face up on the table. You turn it over to be respectful to your dates but realize too late the phone case underneath. 

There, the chibi versions of Deku, Shoto, and All Might stare back at you. It was a gift from Kiri for your birthday, but now, you want to curse him for giving it to you and yourself for forgetting that it was on the back of your phone. 

Your dates catch it immediately and mirth alights behind their eyes. Shoto smirks at you, stifling his laughter. “You weren’t quick enough for that,” he chuckles. You flush with embarrassment and unbeknownst to you, Shoto adores it. Your skin glows increasingly more in the candlelight, making him want to kiss, suck, and lick every part of your beautiful skin. 

Deku is in the same boat as his boyfriend. He’s been admiring your beauty all night, but unlike Shoto, he isn’t as bold or as brazen, so he instead shifts the conversation to something else to distract him from how tight his slacks have gotten. 

“So you are a fan?” He excitedly gasps. “Wow! I can’t say I’ve ever been on a date with a fan of mine before.” Shoto’s lazily shift to yours, peering deep into you. “Me either.” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly ashamed. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I’ll put it away if it makes you feel weird.” You go to put your phone in your purse, but Shoto’s hand stops you. You pause, your pulse jumping as you feel his long piano fingers brush your knuckles. 

“No, no, don’t,” he protests. “It’s cute. I just wonder out of the two of us which one’s your favorite.” He winks at you with that sapphire blue eye, teasing you. ”Todoroki, come on,” Deku sighs. ”Don’t embarrass her.” 

Maybe it’s the cocktail or the romantic atmosphere or gaining the undivided attention of the two sexy pros sitting across from you, but something inside of you flares up, filling you with confidence. “It’s actually both of you,” you shyly confess. 

The two look at you, stunned. “I’ll admit, I was more of a Dynamight fan until I saw you two with those kids at that charity event for the children’s hospital. I love men who are good with kids.” You flash them a bashful yet endearing smile that makes them throb and ache down below. 

“Ah, I remember that event,” Deku says, reminiscing. “That was a year ago for Christmas.” He suddenly leans in, a secretive smile on his face. “Don’t tell him this, but you definitely wouldn’t be a fan of Dynamight after learning he’s horrible with children.” 

He and Shoto proceed to tell you about when he was forced to dress as an elf for the charity event and he fussed at every kid who instead told him what they wanted for Christmas and tugged on his fake elf ears. “We had to stop him from blowing up the Christmas tree,” Shoto says, watching with adoration as you laugh into your appetizer. 

The waitress finally returns to take your main course orders and refills your water. When she leaves, Deku and Shoto once again give you their attention. “So tell us more about you, Y/N,” Deku says, and your heart somersaults at hearing your name on his lips. 

Despite their laser beam-like gazes in the candlelight and the vodka making you feel slightly unbalanced, you do as they say. 

You talk about anything and everything, starting with your job. You tell them what you studied in school and what you do now for work. Shoto looks impressed while Deku damn near chokes on his appetizer when you tell him ”An assistant at NASA?” He gasps. “That’s amazing! So if we ever fight an alien from a distant planet or something, can we call on you to fix us up with a rocket?” 

It’s a bad joke and you laugh, finding his boyish nature oh-so cute. Shoto rolls his eyes, popping an oyster into his mouth. “Again with the alien talk,” he huffs. You look away to your cocktail, stifling a smile. “You too?” Shoto asks while Deku laughs. “You really believe in those little green men?” 

You smirk at him, pointing at him with your fork. “This is coming from a guy who shoots ice and fire from his hands,” you retort. Shoto is shocked (and turned on) by your wittiness, as is Deku. They like a girl who is playful like that. “Touché,” he replies. 

Once your dinner finally arrives at the table, the convo shifts to food and drinks. Deku is fond of spicy miso ramen and mocktails while Shoto prefers black coffee and soba. You tell them your favorites and non-favorites, resulting in somewhat talking about bubble tea and how you’ve never tried it before. 

Deku looks like you just admitted to murder, pausing mid-bite with his grilled halibut. ”You’ve never tried bubble tea before?” He gasps. “Oh, you’re missing out. It’s literally one of the best creations in the world!” 

Shoto shakes his head, biting into his plank steak. “He’s exaggerating, but it is quite good.” You take a sip of your cocktail, feeling the effects of the vodka taking over. Everything is bubbly and warm, and a rush of newfound confidence courses your veins. 

“Guess you two will have to teach me then.” You don’t mean for it to sound so suggestive, but then again, you don’t care either. Because the two men are immediately caught on your hook, their gazes intense and warm. 

The flirting doesn’t stop there. Throughout dinner, they are more than happy to show you that they are very romantically interested in their beautiful date—you. Deku is more lowkey and bashful, complimenting the shade of your dress and your earrings, while Shoto flat-out tells you how attractive he thinks you are. 

It takes its toll on you—all of this undivided attention—and you find yourself sweating from it. You’re not used to such genuine flirting and compliments. You don’t know if going home with them is on the table, but if they ask, you won’t say no. That you know much. 

You know deep down that sex on the first date isn’t exactly socially acceptable or appropriate in some cases, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that. However, there is a part of you that is saying “no, don’t”. The voice of reason. The romantic part of you that wants to get to know the two pros and see where things take you. 

Other than flirting, you talk about other things: favorite heroes, their time at UA, favorite missions, vacation spots, etc. They also talk about Warner Bros apparently wanting to make a movie about Deku. “I heard they’re thinking about casting Tom Holland,” he sighs. “He looks nothing like me! But he is a good Spider-Man and is apparently Hollywood’s heartthrob.” 

You giggle, chomping down on your shrimp salad. “He’s cute or whatever, but I prefer my men much bigger and taller, like Jason Momoa.” You practically salivate at the mental image of him. 

Shoto and Deku share a look, smirking at each other. “Is he your type of man?” Shoto asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

The two look at you, quietly eager to know your answer. Your smile fades when you realize you just walked into a trap. But there’s no turning back now…might as well go all in. “Kinda,” you answer, unaware of how airy your voice sounds. “But I do like my men with long hair and pretty eyes.” 

Your eyes trail over Deku’s ever-green eyes that you could stare into forever and Shoto’s long hair you want to trail your fingers through. You want to make it known that you like them. You want them to see the fantasies running wild in your head of you together in bed, in the dark, both of them pressed against you, kissing and touching, all passion and energy transferring from one body to the other. 

Suddenly, you feel shy again and wither slightly. “Sorry,” you giggle. “It’s the vodka talking.” Shoto fixes you with a look that damn near peels you out of your dress. “Let it talk,” he softly demands. “We really like talking to you, Y/N.” 

Deku nods, a slight blush coating his cheeks. “You know, we couldn’t believe we were on a date with someone as gorgeous as you?” He sheepishly asks. “Not that Kaachan and Kiri would fix us up with someone we weren’t attracted to, but seeing you for the first time…” He pauses, blowing air out of his cheeks as if he’s winded. “It was a trip.” 

You flush from his words and genuine tone, knowing that he’s serious. They really think you’re that beautiful? “So would you say I’m your type of girl?” You boldly ask, running your hands lightly over your pudgy sides and down your jiggly thighs under the table.

In Shoto’s eyes, you see nothing but a passion so bold and open that it makes you melt. “I don’t think that even needs to be questioned, doll. You have a beautiful personality. Your looks just add to our attraction for you.” The pet name rolling off of his lips has you ready to get the check and go home with them. 

“Don’t mind his bluntness, but he’s right,” Deku adds. “Anyone would be stupid to have fumbled someone like you.” You see the same genuine passion and enthusiasm in his eyes too. There isn’t a stitch or slip of the truth in their faces. They are dead serious. 

You sit up a little straighter, tightening your hands clasped together in your lap. “Thank you,” you shyly say. “And for the record, any girl would be lucky to have two partners like you two on her arm.” 

They look as if they want you to be that “girl” whose arms they are on. 

The rest of the dinner goes by in a flash. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. You finish your food and they demand you put your credit card away, instead paying for your meal. They then walk you outside and sit on a bench near the restaurant window as you order your Lyft. 

They did offer to drive you home, but you politely declined. Despite your immense attraction to them, they are still strangers…at least right now, they are, but you hope that changes soon. 

While Shoto takes your right, Deku sits down on your left, putting you smack dab in the middle. “We’ll wait here till your Lyft comes. We don’t mind at all! It means more time with you.” You bashfully smile under the moonlight and stars in the clear night sky. The cocktail is starting to fade a bit, so you feel rationality start to sink in. 

A comfortable silence descends upon you three, only filled by the idle chatter of passersby and cars. When you check your phone, your driver is announced to be arriving in five minutes. “I really enjoyed tonight,” you say before clearing your throat. “I think this is one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time.” 

Deku smiles, looking overjoyed to hear this. “We’re happy to hear that. We had a great time with you too.” His fingers, placed on the bench, slightly brush yours. Electricity explodes in your veins at his soft touch. 

Shoto hums in agreement, nodding. ”Hopefully, you’d be up for some more great times with us.” You blink at him, realizing what he means. He wants another date. Deku does too judging from the way his fingers inch closer to yours. 

Taking things one step further, you move your hand closer to his until your hand is on top of his. You hear him physically exhale as if his self-control is jumping out the window. 

“Well, yes,” you answer Shoto, “but you’d need my number for that.” Your tone is soft and flirty, your lashes framing your eyes as you stare up into Shoto’s handsome face. 

Catching on, he playfully smirks down at you. “Then I guess we have a dilemma,” he says, his voice silky and smooth. “So how do we solve that?” You button your lip, mostly because you’re afraid of saying something stupid and ruining the magic of this moment. 

“I guess we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we, Midoriya?” He sighs, acting defeated. Deku catches on to the game and plays the role too, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I guess so. After all, we still need to get you to try mochi.” 

You’ve never smiled so wide in your life. By the time the two finish putting their contacts in your phone, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Your heart is thundering and you feel like you can fly, high on the fact that these two heartthrobs want you. 

Your Lyft finally arrives in a white SVU and rolls up to the curb. “There’s my ride,” you breathlessly announce, standing with the two. The window rolls down to show your female driver. “Y/N?” The driver calls. You nod, waving at her. 

Deku and Shoto walk over with you to the car, protective and chivalrous. “Here, I’ll get the door for you,” Deku says, opening the back door for you. You thank him, but before you can slip into the seat, you suddenly feel his and Shoto’s pairs of soft lips on either side of your face. Your brain short circuits and the entire world disappears. 

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Shoto whispers into your ear. 

“We hope to see you again,” Deku adds, his voice just as soft and intoxicating.

’You will,’ you think. You want to see them again more than anything. Already, you’re grieving the loss of such a perfect night, desperate for the chance to have one again with them. 

They then step back and allow you to crawl in, no doubt staring at your ass as you do. But then you stop and look back at them, willing to show some of your cards to end the night. “You know, for the record,” you begin, “you two are my type of men. And I’d really like to see you again too.” 

Suddenly, the air between you shifts. You can feel it in the way Deku and Shoto stare at you like they want so much to get in the car and go home with you. 

But they don’t. Instead, they leave you with something that will suffice you for days to come. Shoto leans in first, his hand on the top of the car as he peers into the backseat and presses his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It’s enough to send those butterflies flapping haphazardly in your stomach as his thumb softly caresses your cheek. 

But as soon as it happens, it’s over. Then it’s Deku’s turn. He also leans down to kiss you, the taste of wine and mint gum heavy on his tongue as it lightly touches yours. You stamp back a moan, your toes curling in your shoes at the soft, intoxicating kiss. 

Their kisses are the best ones you’ve ever had. 

Finally, Deku pulls away and peers at you, his eyes holding a promise of what’s to come next if you venture down this road with them. “We’d like that,” he pants. “Call us when you get home, okay?” 

Closing your parted mouth to avoid looking insane, you nod and try to recover. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “I will.” Deku smiles as Shoto reaches in to kiss your hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You say goodnight and Deku closes the door, allowing the driver to finally drive off in the direction of your home. You watch the two standing on the curb watching you go, your heart still hammering away and your skin alive with flames. You lightly touch your lips, still feeling theirs on them. 

The first thing you do is put in your AirPods and call your friend, a stupid smile stretching across your face. She picks up on the second ring. “You’re alive!” She giddily says. “So what happened? Did you guys kiss? I got your Lyft notification, so I’m guessing you didn’t go home with them.” 

“No,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “And yes, we did kiss. And I got their numbers.” 

Your friend nearly blows out both of your eardrums as she squeals into your ears. “Ooooh, the boys are gonna be so happy!” She squeals. “So tell me everything! How was the date?” 

With your smile growing wider, you add your two contacts to a group chat to thank them for the date tonight with emojis that you added to their names yourself: 

Deku 🥦💚, Shoto ❄️🔥❤️

Thank you for tonight!

“It was everything,” you dreamily sigh. 

THE END.

[massivechestplate]

Is anyone else tired over recent events? Not in a sleepy way, but in that bone-deep depression way?

Bit of a long post about the general Gacha game-sphere. Needed to get this off of my chest, might as well scream into the void.

I ask this as someone who flirts between these gacha games out of boredom mostly. They're free, they're phone, they got Story, and I'm not spending a cent on them personally, so that's why I play them.

But every fucking day it seems we got another controversy. Bad VA this, fired an artist that, White_Pharaoh.png being handed out like fucking candy on Halloween lately.

And then we discuss on how Its Bad, and we all know Its Bad, people discuss on what to do, Boycott, torch the franchise and run, stay and try to fix it, ignore it because it's been your Comfort Media for the past 3 years, all that stuff. And it's hard. And a lot of those choices always feel half-assed.

I've been around a bit, I've seen it. I was around when Fate Grand Order had LB7, Wandjina, and all the other shit on 2023 JP hit, and there was talk, some talked but stayed, others left but chose to still engage with Type-Moon works, some might've left completely but I never heard of them.

I was around when Project Moon fired Vellmori, and there was betrayal, some deciding to leave, others staying because Project Moon wormed into their hearts and they decided to stay even knowing what was happening. Knowing what it was now built on and where the lines were drawn.

And I'm here now in the midst of the Hoyoverse shittery round 2, I don't think I need to speak at length on that. We've all seen it.

And all the time every potential choice to take feels half-assed?

Do you leave, abandoning the franchise as if leaving without fighting to improve something makes you good, preserving your own morality at the cost of never making anything better? The lack of evil substituting for substantial good?

Do you boycott? If so is it purely not spending money or not even logging in? Does it even make a difference? After all, when do these oversea companies really listen to anyone outside their country of origin? Is it enough to stop on that one specific game and still buy other works, or do you condemn the whole?

Do you continue on as normal, to indulge in the media? To continue what brings you joy and comfort? Is criticizing and acknowledging the faults enough or just lipservice?

Are we arrogant to impose our values on others, hating foreign companies not conforming to our beliefs? Or is this completely reasonable, every scathing speech and point completely justified and never bordering on some level of sinophobia?

And just... it's hard. Hard enough trying to be a Good Person normally but here? In this space? Part of it feels natural and some action is necessary for the Good of Everything, the other part feels like a big fuss over something ultimately small and meaningless.

And it hurts. You give out pieces of yourself to these stories, let it become a part of you, then become forced to tear it out of your heart just to be Good. And when I say that I don't mean in that internet point "I'm a good person way" but the way of being Good with yourself, proving only to yourself.

And it doesn't help that plenty of us have devolved into humanity's good old passtime of tribalism, mockery, and a lack of empathy for The Other. Everyone's been taking the piss out of the other gacha players for the stuff their games pull as if their own games haven't done the same. Some of it might be in good nature, over exaggerated and self-deprecating, a joke or criticism, but its honestly become indistinguishable from genuine malice and contempt.

And...

I'm tired.

Tired of seeing this. Tired of dealing with it. Tired of wondering what to do, what's the best choice, what choice even is there.

Part of me is honestly tempted to just not care. To accept that I'm a bad person by playing these games and going through with it anyways because I'm so tired and cynical that hedonistic indulgence just becomes more worth it than trying to be good. At most accept a Gacha-game that's a 'Lesser Evil' compared to another, if that even counts.

Because it hurts. Because you let these stories change you, touch you, let them into your heart, and then have to tear it out with your own two hands and pretend it doesn't hurt. And you can't feel like you can mourn what you lost, because someone will come in and start raving about how it's dumb you even cared to begin with.

I've seen arguments for every option, from people I don't respect and people I do, strangers and prominent community figures. I've warred with the argument of "Morally Pure Media doesn't exist, don't beat yourself up over it" and wonder just how absolute that statement should be.

And I don't know.

And all I want is to go to sleep, and wake up and have it magically be better.

[dansevilpianotea]

who do you think is more Crowley coded and who is more Azira coded out of dnp?

i set myself hourly notifications ever since you send the ask and it still took me this long to answer, im so sorry 😭

to answer your question:

It might seem like obvious that dan is crowley coded and phil is azira coded because of their aesthetics and personality but stating that as that is too simple for me. lets break it down:

dan is like crowley in the obvious sense of having that edgy aesthetic and always needing to question things while phil is the one with the light aesthetic who enjoys what is happening despite the problems it has. just watch them play the game of life.

this reminds me of this quote from a book ive read for uni which really stuck with me:

so yea, dan is the social scientist who points out what most people miss and phil is the one who tells us that we shouldn't wallow in defeat of it but make our own meaning out of it. and we need both! they are like ying and yang, like crowley and aziraphale in that way.

crowley who questions heaven and thusly falls, but then doesnt stop questioning hell because he doesnt see the world in black and white, good actions and bad actions.

i think dan for a long time was not like that. i say this with the utmost respect but if you look back, his branding was usually self deprecating jokes and at least to me personally it felt like his perspective was pessimistic. he always made sure to leave a positive message but to me it felt like a wish for a better future, not a feeling of certainty that it will be better.

Phil on the other hand is very much like that:

Phil is like aziraphale and me in the sense that he gets irrationally worried about things,

but it is dan who literally did a tour about his worries of the world ending, with branding and all:

and yet:

phil and crowley both have that rational optimism, the sense that things will be okay. but aziraphale does not give up in-spite of the odds being against them. in s1 he refuses to run away to alpha centauri because he believes that they should stay and fight. that there is still hope. he does not accept that the world will end. but its crowley who sparks the idea of aziraphale raising the antichrist with him. its aziraphale who tells angel crowley of armageddon , and its why crowley gets upset and questions the almighty.

so my point is that phil has aziraphale's light aesthetic vibes and his fear of near doom but crowley's certainty that everything will be okay in the end despite it.

dan on the other hand has crowley's edgy dark aesthetic, his cynicism and sense of questioning belief systems, but also aziraphale's determinism to fight what he is sure is a losing battle/the end of the world because he wants to believe that it is possible that everything will be okay (that being the message of wad/ywgttn/big/etc...)

i want to talk a bit about 'dark/light polarity'. what we mean by that is two sides of the same coin. yin and yang:

☯️

they depend on each other, they interconnect and intertwine. be it real people or fictional characters, it is never a clear black and white binary, because what the characters have something that the other lacks and when they come together they become a whole. plato said humans once had 4 legs and feet, and then got split in half by zeus to punish us to live our lives yearning to be connected with the other half of our soul/coin, our soulmate. they carry sth of each other within them because there are shards that got broken in the middle when the being was split and were forced to choose sides.

so even tho it might seem like dan is more like crowley coded and phil is more aziraphale coded because of their light/dark aesthetic, there's many things of both in each of them and thats what makes it interesting and real to us.

[lostcausedsoul]

I think about it every day: if kokichi were in sdr2 or if nagito were in v3, they would have such a disastrous time trying to one-up each other's plans. Or nagito would volunteer to act as a stepping stone for kokichi bc of seeing his hope.

my delusional shipper brain tells me they could probably save each other in the end.

To me it seems like kokichi's "hope" - not only to end the killing game and the suffering of all, but also to obtain the ultimate victory over the mastermind - would be just perfect by nagito's standards, because nagito is always about hope triumphing over despair, right? They both wanna win.

and when nagito wanted to change course bc of knowing about the remnants of despair, kokichi could just do his lie speech and make nagito see how truth could bring despair. But nagito won't give up easily, so just like kodaka said in this tweet, the two would probably end up having a fight over who gets to end the killing game properly.

the two being so similar in their somewhat self-deprecating belief of needing to play a self-sacrificing role, kokichi could probably guess what nagito is going to do. he would be smart enough to stall nagito on his suicidal path, if only bc kokichi despises killing & the ultimate luck should make things more fun.

he would manipulate or rope nagito into helping with his own plan - if they put their heads together I'm sure they could create a perfect crime - but then nagito would be too smart to fall under his influence, so 100% try to sabotage that plan as well; besides, nagito wants to be the ultimate hope and he couldn't possibly pass that opportunity onto kokichi.

So in the end they'll probably just prevent each other from dying tragically while having the biggest battle of wits that over time just evolves into more and more convoluted, batshit crazy "make each other survive" schemes. It's a thought that amuses and comforts me.

[xo2dee]

ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄʀʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ꜰᴇʟɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛᴜꜱ

♱ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Vergil x Reader

♱ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♱ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8783

♱ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Nothing really quite caught your attention like the way he seemed to interact with your cat(s). Or: five times you saw a part of his heart, and one time you showed him yours.

♱ ᴀ/ɴ: this is so self-indulgent, but you cant tell me vergil wouldnt be a cat dad

♱ twitter - ao3

He never complained, so you never asked, however it was interesting watching him adapt to your environment in the same way you adapted into his own.

You ended up learning that Vergil was never one for domesticity, though he was also never one to voice a complaint whenever you seemingly doted on him and treated him as your other half. In return, neither of you truly ever brought it up or thought too long or hard about it, accepting acknowledgments in mutual silence that you both were comfortable enough to settle within the other’s boundaries and wants.

However, fitting Vergil into your life schedule somehow ended up being less of a chore than you originally thought it would be. Sure, he was a half-demon with some serious past trauma on his back and had committed less than acceptable deeds in the past, but you had already known that and accepted the fact any and all social interactions with him would take time for him to adjust to and you would need to be patient with the way he was readjusting to life outside of everything he knew.

The world itself had its edges crusted over in self-deprecation and long-picked wounds ready to reopen form the slightest tear in the seams, until someone came and sewed it back shut from any horrid presence with a touch of lingering affection. At some points you realized he was exactly like that, but you never were one for trying to fix someone; someone who was legitimately fine the way they were to you and didn’t need fixing, just a presence along his side when needed be.

You weren’t the person for fixing, and neither was Vergil, so you supposed that was why he ended up fitting in quite nicely alongside yourself.

However, if you had to come up with how to label him the moment he started frequenting you more often and became accustomed to the way you lived…

Cautious.

A word, and perhaps a description, you would give to the man who always sat almost too perfectly on your couch. His hands clasped between his slightly parted legs, fingers twitching and palms meeting every so often as the time went by, and his posture as stiff as board while his eyes darted out to assess every piece of furniture and decoration you had before he would somehow revert them back to you and repeat the process over.

Cautious… and awkward.

And be it his inability to hold conversations with you at time over dinner (he was trying, really, and it was endearing watching and hearing him talk about things he was particularly interested in), or just settling into a sense of normalcy once more, nothing really quite caught your attention like the way he seemed to interact with your cat(s).

January 7th; one month

“You don’t have to plaster yourself against the wall… Jesus, Vergil, I’m not goanna bite you.”

He was stiff – poised beyond belief – and he was cautious, perhaps walking into an unknown territory and assessing every nook and cranny before relaxing when he found nothing amiss or of threatening means. Vergil stuck out like a sore thumb in the entry way of your apartment, dressed to the nines in his velvety, Victorian getup you liked to tease him about being gothic for, and it didn’t help he took forever to learn how to relax.

The look he shot you alone told you it’d be a cold day in Hell the moment you got the jump on him, and you kept the eye roll in check when he sniffed and flexed his fingers along the grip he had of the Yamato in retaliation – cautious.

You’d seen Vergil placid, focused, and smug, but nothing compared to seeing an awkward expression (seriously, you were having a hard time wondering if it was just awkward in a way he didn’t know what to say so he just sneered, or he was just annoyed, or if that was just his face) on his face the few times he was being more mundane with his son or brother. Bless him, he was trying, but it also did make it funny as it was endearing seeing him make the same faces he made when you placed a key to your apartment in his palm (because he really needed to stop making portals in and out, the neighbors already looked at him weird and God forbid he answered the door again and scared the poor guy down the hall) whenever he was brought into a new interaction that he hadn’t yet experienced.

(It was almost as funny and as endearing the day he slipped up and called Nero, Son.)

You sighed and looked over at him from your shoulder, the dark colors of his outfit a fine contrast to the pale color of you walls, “My home is your home.”

It was decided that pointedly looking away from the heavy way his gaze landed back on your face the moment the words flowed off your tongue was perhaps the right decision… You hadn’t necessarily gotten used to Vergil’s intense stares – especially with the growing relationship between you both. Nevertheless, you fought the heat and embarrassment and snuck a coy smile in whenever you heard the soft footfalls of his boots against your floor, beginning to walk deeper into your apartment with him on your heels as you listened closely to keep everything in check.

He didn’t need a tour, but you assumed it was perhaps a little unsettling since you had practically told him to move in with you, and when you heard him stop walking the ball of doubt lodged deep into your throat fell down to settle into your stomach. You were ready to tell him he didn’t have to do it and you didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, but he had beaten you to the punch and left you more curious than worried.

“…A cat,” he voiced flatly, and almost so softly and full of wonder you had to pivot on your heel to look and watch as he came to terms with the feline son you kept nuzzled up into your home sitting in his cat tree like he owned the place and lazily blinking at Vergil’s presence. You processed everything for a moment, remembering that very recently you took in a stray and had neglected to tell Vergil about it. Not that it seemed of pertinent information for him, but when you thought perhaps he had some heightened allergy to them because you never did see Dante or Nero around any pets that much…

“Oh… I forgot,” you turned back to him, a sheepish mask playing over your face as he alternated from the weird staring contest he was having with your cat to looking back at you, “I adopted him – kinda… He jumped through the window –”

“– Stop leaving your window open.”

“– and I just kinda let him live here…”

A fine brow rose, a tick in his jaw and you swore a vein on his forehead was protruding, “’Kinda’? Do you let everything that crawls into your life take refuge here?”

“I mean, I’m letting you live here, so yeah.”

“…”

Yeah, the vein was definitely protruding, and you waved him off while trying to hide your grin at his disgruntled stance, “Anyways, I didn’t think you’d care, but…”

The lighthearted trail you left at the end of your sentence was your ‘kissy-kissy’ talk you liked to use with him and always worked like a charm because Vergil would get more annoyed at your pestering more than anything and succumb in his own Vergil-esque way. It was like forcing the mouth of an alligator open that had its dinner sitting snugly in there open to get him to say whether he minded something or not, and you had called him a ‘No Man’ once and he got an attitude about it so you tried to refrain from prying into him. Yet, if he wasn’t okay being with a cat…

The barely audible sigh was seen rather than heard, Vergil’s shoulders relaxing and his chest rising and falling as the severe look left his face and casted a slow side glance towards your cat, who remained unbothered and lazily flicking his tail back and forth. “…What’s his name?”

You beamed, “Burrito.”

“Burrito,” he repeated, the tone you knew for sure he used whenever he was severely judging someone. You pursed your lips to hold your laugh in at how humorous it was to hear him say that and the with the way he was looking at you, reaching forward and smacked him on his chest. “Why is it named after a food?”

“Because that’s what I was eating when he jumped in… Look, he’s my big man –”

You couldn’t tell if the noise Vergil made was a snort or just a weird cough.

“But… if you mind…” you trailed off again, twisting your fingers in hopes you didn’t have to sacrifice either of the men in your new life, but Vergil silenced your rambling with a palm up, silvery eyes glinting at you for a moment before they softened just the slightest in the lowering amber sunset when he looked at Burrito.

“I don’t mind.”

February 14th; two months

Valentine’s Day was not a day you were expecting Vergil to even celebrate – Hell, you didn’t even celebrate it yourself, but that wasn’t to say Vergil didn’t end up spending time with you.

He’d been more frequent in going out (‘Finishing unfinished business’, he’d say) so time together was shill between you both when it seemed he woke you up more from his weight settling into the mattress next to you as he undid the straps to his boots more than anything else. You didn’t mind, Vergil was Vergil and you more inclined to feel grateful he was sticking around than running off into the night without so much of a word; spending time with his twin and his son certainly seemed to also put a damper onto his moody attributes as well.

So, you weren’t all that surprised when he came back that day – albeit a little earlier than usual and casted a glance to the plate on your coffee table and the leftovers on the counter. He didn’t need to eat, but it was appreciated whenever he did so with yours as much as he agreed to Kyrie’s at times (it was also fun to learn what he liked and disliked in that area; read: chocolate and mint being favorites apparently). Vergil had settled into the couch next to you the same time Burrito jumped into your lap, focus immediately reigning towards the television where you had started a documentary on ancient Samurais.

You learned he had taken up the hobby of watching every particular documentary he deemed interesting enough; be it history, science, and even marine biology oddly enough, Vergil was probably going to watch it if he found a section in it that caught his attention. You weren’t surprised given how much of a bookworm he was, and it was also nice spending time with him mutual, beneficial silence, something you had to learn he preferred even when you first met him.

You sighed inwardly. Watching an old documentary about Samurai on Valentine’s Day… your hand brushed along Burrito’s back. Well, it could’ve been worse. He could've not been there. You weren’t necessarily complaining, but your past plans for the holiday didn’t also end up sitting on the couch with a half-demon completely engrossed in a three-hour long documentary…

Well, was engrossed, until you peeked over with a less than noticeable side glance to see he had stopped watching it and was very decidedly taking that time to have another staring contest with Burrito. Who in turn stared right back unblinking with his tail flicking across your forearm… almost in a challenge.

You snorted.

“No matter the species, men never do change…” Having some weird contest over you that resulted in glaring at each other… you wouldn’t have been surprised if they randomly started having some vocal exchange to impress you.

“I’m not an animal,” his knee knocked into yours, a result from his manspread, while he propped his head into his palm, “The – Burrito… assumes I’m intruding in on his territory…” You didn’t miss the way his finger started to curl around strands of his hair, his eyes flicking back to you, Burrito, and the television every few seconds.

You paused, eyeing Vergil carefully as he just dropped that information on you and like it wasn’t weird at all that he was able to deduce that so easily. A hum resounded low in your throat and you ran your hand along Burrito’s back once more, “And you just… know this?”

He pointedly looked forward, not even at the television anymore, just anywhere else, “His behavior says otherwise?”

You thought about it for a moment, the forgotten documentary flashing against face highlighting his cut crease features and Burrito purring underneath your hand. “No, I’m just… wondering why you know that.”

Vergil sniffed again, “Instincts.”

“Right, but you’re half-demon, not half-cat… Unless…” you trailed off with a sly grin, his eyelashes shadowing over his eyes in the side-glare he shot you the moment the words left your mouth. He didn’t comment further, a familiar pinch in his brow that usually only happened whenever he had something on his mind and was trying to find the words to rightly discuss it. Part of you wanted to ease up since he looked vaguely uncomfortable about the speaking about the matter, yet the other part of you wondered just what he was getting at as he didn’t seem to particularly be in one of his ‘joking’ moods. Not only that, but he also somewhat looked like he was… pouting?

You blinked, recognition hitting you at full force.

Ah. Ah.

A sigh passed your lips as you held back the laugh lodging itself in your throat. Leave it to Vergil to have beef with a cat. If he wanted attention, all he had to do was ask.

His pout was cute, you’d give him that, and you barely held the giggle back at his suspicious side glance when you began to move in your spot. You ignored Burrito’s annoyed, ‘mrrrr’ as you jostled him in your lap from the movement, opting to plop yourself closer to Vergil and ultimately squish yourself into his side. You’d napped plenty of times on his shoulder and in his lap, but you didn’t think it really could compare to the way you two could lay together in silence at times completely awake and basking in each other’s company.

It was a moment of you sitting with your head against his arm, his scent as pleasant as ever, before he lifted his arm without a word and let you fall completely into his side. You felt a smile uncontrollably split your face when the warmth bloomed out of your chest and cheeks throughout the rest of your body, and with the documentary seeming all the more interesting as you snuggled into his side and pulled Burrito closer to you to let lay comfortable once more in your lap.

As tired and content as you were, you didn’t have the heart to even fall asleep, especially not when Vergil’s hand eventually crawled its way up to land upon yours, mirroring your motions of petting Burrito who had begun to purr the moment it happened.

March 19th; three months

With March finally signaling the arrival of Spring, you had been brought forward with allergies. Vergil had been vehement the moment you sneezed four times in a row one morning and had an itchy throat to keep your windows close. You had agreed of course, but that also resorted to you turning the air conditioner on because it was way too hot without it in your apartment. Especially when your boyfriend’s body temperature ran hotter than was humanly possible and sometimes liked to spoon with you.

Sleeping was easier, yet you got colder with the air conditioning on and had become a ‘nuisance’ (Vergil’s words) in the night stealing blankets and placing cold feet on his bare back, yet that night you were particularly warm. Even in your sleep you deduced that Vergil had returned earlier than normal, snuggling back in your sleep, but you weren’t necessarily sure why he was feeling furry and curled up against the skin of your back.

You ignored it.

(Maybe his leg hair grew.)

You hadn’t been waking up so frequently in the night since becoming accustomed to having Vergil living with you, any nightmares or memories diminished by his mere presence alone in your bed. However, it was still a fuzzy recognition each time you felt his side of the bed dip in the late of hours of the night when nothing but the moon and stars accompanied the sky.

It was of no surprise that you began to wake the moment you heard the door shut, his weight settling down onto his side of the bed as the sounds of him undressing reached your ears and you inevitably waited for him to lift the cover up and settle in next to you. It was routine, and you’d either roll over and shove your face in his chest or wait for him to curl an arm around a part of you as you fell back into a dream.

Nevertheless, when the moment did come as you heard the nearly inaudible sigh from him as he lifted the cover back and revealed half of your form, you realized with the frosty air chilling across your bare legs that the moment was lasting entirely too long.

You furrowed your brow, still facing away from him and silently begging for him to lay down because you were for sure going to roll over on top of him for warmth if he was purposely making you cold. Though with the stare you could already feel flitting across the exposed skin of your back, you had a sneaking suspicion of the mood he may have been in (as it wasn’t entirely all the time it happened). You sighed and opened your eyes, nothing but the dark greeting you and your creepy boyfriend ogling you at your back. Sure, you didn’t sleep with pants, but he’d seen it all, no reason to stare, all he had to was ask, but if he wanted to play hard to get, and that was what he wanted –

“I see you’ve let another take my spot instead.”

Despite the meaning for the words, Vergil sounded… humored. You blinked and stretched your arm around, patting around until you came across a lump of fur curled up against your back and said lump swatted at your hand for interrupting his beauty sleep. Ah, it wasn’t a potentially new form of Vergil that was hairy, it was your son seeking warmth in the sixty-degrees blast of cold inhabiting your apartment.

“Ouch,” you griped, rubbing your thumb over the spot Burrito had slapped you, while rolling over to sit up and face where Vergil was, “I didn’t even know he was there.”

“Unsurprising… Though it was bound to happen sooner or later with the way you keep it freezing.”

It made you want to bubble up into a giggle at the sound of his voice seemingly disembodied in the dark, not being able to see him yet his vision letting him see you perfectly, but you were more focused on the fact he still held the blanket up and was currently making you cold. You huffed and waved your hand, slightly disoriented as the chills on your legs doubled, “Lay down. It’s cold.”

“Burrito has taken my spot, unless you intend for me to take the couch.”

You patted the bed again, feeling the lump again and not getting slapped that time, “Just scoot him over.”

A beat. “You looked awfully peaceful.”

This again, you rolled your eyes and snickered, instead heaving your big cat into your arms and making room for Vergil, “What can I say? I need a cuddler and he’s my b – “

“Your ‘big man’, yes, I’ve heard it more than enough.”

“Don’t be so jealous, handsome,” you snickered and patted the spot next to you while lying your head back onto the pillow, tucking Burrito underneath your chin and against to your chest as he began to purr and press his nose to your neck, “You’re my big man too. All nearly seven feet of you. Now lay down and come here.”

The noise he made in the back of his throat was something you weren’t sure was of embarrassment or one of his signature grumbles, but ultimately did as you said. The bed shifted once he was down, the cover back over the both of you and a leg tangling with your own as Burrito shifted enough to lay along the lengths of your bodies. No more words were exchanged, the night was still, and you were already becoming warm mere minutes after Vergil finally settled back into bed.

At times it was hard, getting someone with the horrors that had happened to him to finally rest on his back; completely open and vulnerable to anything that could happen as he rested. It took a lot of work to get him to finally sleep next to you, it took a lot more work to get him to talk about those late nights. However, it was soft having him next to you, it was soft being with him, in a way that had chills breaking back across every part on your skin and leaving a yearning in your soul of wanting to burrow yourself into his warmth and everything he had offer.

It was perfect; perfect and warm, quiet and peaceful –

Until Vergil promptly sneezed.

You snorted, and he hissed into the dark, “Cat…”

There was no ill intention in his voice, and you felt Burrito swish his tail again (the indication that he brushed it across Vergil’s nose to tickle it and make and him sneeze that loud ass sneeze not lost on you as you bit your cheek to keep from laughing), until Vergil’s arm barred down across the both of you and all movement stopped with Burrito’s purrs soothing you both to sleep.

You fell asleep then, a lingering pink of softness and warmth surrounding you and when you awoke later you couldn’t find it in you to wake your two others. You felt your lips stretch into a smile, Vergil’s face buried in Burrito’s fur and Burrito tucked up under his chin while you both remained secured by his arm.

July 21st; seven months

The iridescent colors of blues in the form he took every so often had always fascinated you, the indention of the ‘V’ along his widened chest abdomen the most interesting as you pondered if it was something he did consciously, or it was something far beyond anything he had power. You weren’t necessarily sure if he really had any power over what his forms looked like, as he once told you before it had changed to the older he got, but nevertheless you were always quick to appreciate it whenever he showed you.

The blue of him did intrigue you the most, but you were also fascinated by his tail that would teasingly wrap around your ankles or pull on your pant leg, or his wings as they spread out for you on display and the span of them lifting your eyebrows when he let you see them. Almost as if he was proud of himself and showing them off to you for your viewing pleasure in hopes that you would like them.

(Almost like he was baring a part of himself to you that was closed off to anyone else considering the number of times he dived out of the air in the form when you were alone somewhere walking and nearly scared you shitless.)

Vergil didn’t just… phase into the form randomly, you noticed acutely he’d fly at times, not bothering to break reality with the Yamato you guessed, but it was those times you realized he was looking for you. You didn’t really have a habit of going out and walking around on your own, but that was really how you got to and from your job, it was more… you got bored if he wasn’t around. Vergil occupied ninety percent of your time, so when he wasn’t around you took matters into your own hands to actually find something to do because you weren’t about to sit cooped up in the apartment. It hadn’t been raining the day you got out, troubled by boredom and seeking the city to find something to do, but the moment you heard that noise was the very moment it began a downpour, and you made a decision before having to run home and get away from the storm.

Summer weather was always the worst to you.

However, luck was on your side in the form of a nosey boyfriend who most definitely worried more than he’d ever let on as you were walking one moment holding something precious against your chest, and the next you were wondering if you were about to get dive-bombed by a gigantic lizard. He had landed as graceful as ever in front of you and promptly lifted a wing to use as a makeshift umbrella to shield you from the rain, a sigh leaving your lips from being out of the freezing rain as you began to walk with him.

Mutual silence at times was your two’s go-to, nothing awkward about it or a sign either of you were upset. Vergil didn’t talk all that much when he was in that form, the one time you did hear his voice like that frazzling you at the way it wiggled up your spine and scratched at your brain until it tingled your nerves. It was…. Interesting the way it echoed, but also sounded like he was speaking into a box fan sometimes.

Not that you didn’t like it, just weren’t used to it. You loved his voice, and he had gotten better at talking your ear off as of then.

“Didn’t think you’d find me with all the rain,” you spoke once you both reached a more populated and covered area, that form diminishing in a flurry of azure diamond crisps as he come into view in his human guise. You realized his clothes were connected somehow (“Demonic magic,” he had offered one day, a shrug accompanying him when you asked) as he was soaked, and you wanted to curl your finger around the strand of hair that stuck out from his usual updo whenever it was wet. The little cowlick made you giggle, much to his embarrassment, a little quirk he seemed to have that you continued to learn about.

Smoothing a palm down his sleeve, he glanced over to you, “…I could smell you.”

Right; heightened senses. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to that. You wrapped your arms around your abdomen, securing what was in your shirt closer to you to keep them warm and from slipping out, “Yeah, but you’d think the rain would mask it.”

Vergil shifted on his feet, taking a moment to lift one of the tails of his coat to wring it free of water while beginning to mumble, “It’s not something I would forget…” he cleared his throat and let go of his coat, a finger coming up to pull his collar away from his throat as he looked elsewhere, “…And you’re starting to smell like me.”

Ah. Basically, telling you he knew your scent like the back of his hand. And he could find you anywhere. That made your cheeks heat up, your pulse deepening to which you were sure he was able to hear. It was sweet, really, knowing you’d never stray too far from him without him finding you. You opened your mouth to speak, but the small ‘mew’ from the inside of your shirt cut you off, Vergil’s head swiftly snapping back to you with an incredulous look as if he was wondering if you were the one that made noise until your shirt suspiciously moved again and his eyes zeroed on it.

You tried to mask the meow with a cough, and he sneered at your pathetic attempt; damn his insane hearing. A sigh left you as you removed one arm from your abdomen, holding the other in its place to make sure the baby didn’t fall out without your support. You both stared at each other for a long moment, the sun beginning to break through a mass of shadowing clouds and the puddles on the ground casting flickering rainbows.

“…”

Vergil said your name. You smiled guiltily.

His eyebrow arched, staring down at the lump in your shirt he could easily see and hear, “What’s in your shirt?”

“…My boobs?”

Vergil looked exhausted, almost breaking composure and rolling his eyes as he motioned for you to remove your arm and promptly lifted up your shirt for you. You squawked, “Wait –!”

You weren’t able to stop from the little thing falling out of your shirt, and luckily for you Vergil had the world’s best reflexes, catching the small bundle of black that fell free from your shirt in both of his hands and holding it up for closer inspection. And truly it was a tiny thing; shaking and cold, green eyes blinking every so often, and its fur soaked to the bone which was telling since it looked awfully skinny. It looked even smaller in Vergil’s hands yet held so tenderly you wondered if he already knew and wanted to just see for himself after cozying up to Burrito more and more.

“…A cat,” he said, sounding all the same as the day he officially moved in and saw Burrito perched up waiting for him, however his voice lifted a fraction as he stared at the little ball of fur and ran his thumb over the cat’s nose.

You sided up next to him, smoothing down your shirt and sighing, “A kitten. I found it in an alley; by itself so I think it’s all alone without…” you trailed off and peeked over at him, watching his eyelashes fall carefully over his eyes and he glanced once towards you with dilated pupils.

“Do you make it a habit to pick up strays?” His mouth quirked up at the side; a tease despite how intense he was watching you and the kitten.

You shrugged, cheeks a little too warm and you feeling a little too giddy, “Maybe. I got you and Burrito.”

Vergil’s mouth twitched, a smile. You fanned your eyelashes as he sighed, wondering what was possibly going through his mind as you got ready to ask him the inevitable. Yet he beat you to the punch, pressing his thumb over the kitten’s head as it followed the movements of his pets, “I know you… What do you want to name him?”

You beamed, and grabbed his arm, “It’s a girl, and I’m not so good with names. I named Burrito because I was eating one and he wanted some, if I named her, she’d be Dumpster because that’s where I found her.”

He huffed, his throat lodging with a laugh as he lidded his eyes while petting her, “Then…?”

“Then… you name her.”

You expected him to refuse, his lips pursing and brow knotting as he stared down at the kitten in his hands seeming like he was truly thinking of a name to give the little thing and not being able to come up with anything. However, it was more the look in his eyes as he stared at her, like he was seeing something you weren’t able to and conflicting memories were riddling his brain as he tried to sort through them for a moment. Vergil looked… somewhat troubled; upset to a degree, and it twisted your gut to see such an expression on his face, so you began to open your mouth to tell him not to worry about it before he cut you off with such a soft voice it made your knees buckle.

“Shadow.”

The troubled expression was gone, and he looked… relieved, the newly named Shadow purring underneath his pets and Vergil tucking her closer to his chest. You nearly wanted to tease him about such a cliché name for a black cat, but when the sun finally casted through the dark rainclouds and shine over Vergil’s features and nearly sparkled along Shadow’s fur, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not with that smile on his face.

You didn’t say anything else, taking his arm he offered to go back home and bringing your new member with you as well as she fell asleep in his arms.

Shadow, it is.

October 31st; ten months

Despite Vergil making some money with… the demon-hunting business, you still kept a job. You had to feed yourself, two cats, and sometimes Vergil, who had more of an appetite than you had initially thought otherwise, and you still had to rent to pay every month. You weren’t necessarily struggling, but sometimes you liked to know you had extra money on hand in the bank in case anything was to happen. He helped some, but you were hard-pressed in letting him use for himself for whatever he wanted to do; just trying to let him have a semblance of something that he may have never gotten to experience.

You didn’t like working (Hell, who did?), but if you were able to spend a little extra money on yourself and Vergil, you’d do it. Besides… it was nice getting him things he showed interests in yet never expressed an aloud want from them.

Still, you inwardly groaned, climbing the stairs to your apartment and biting your cheek at the empty candy bowls and Halloween decorations outside other apartments, did I have to work Halloween? You liked Halloween; you loved Autumn. It was a serene time of year full of inspiration and beauty in the way the leaves danced in primary colors as they fell for year, and you much liked doing activities with Vergil as he seemed to prefer the cooler weather.

Speaking of… you paused digging for your keys in your purse, eyebrows raising and blinking at your own empty candy bowl outside your door. It was a black cat like Shadow; green eyes and pink ears that you had bought and sighed over thinking about you wouldn’t be able to hand out candy for Halloween, something Vergil only acknowledged with a hum and stealing a piece of chocolate from the bowl as you weren’t too sure of his opinion on the holiday. However – your heart panged and cheeks warmed – it seemed he had taken a soft spot for the idea and placed the bowl outside regardless, and while you knew he didn’t open the door and communicate with any of them, it was the mere notion that he did it, nonetheless.

Thus, it was odd that he was home so early, your key finding its way into the lock and making your way inside to complete darkness. You had half a mind to think that perhaps you were wrong in Vergil being home (or thinking he was playing some weird prank on you), yet from the dim outside light peering inside you were able to squint and make out his form on your couch while you regarded him cautiously and to why he was just sitting there in the dark.

“Vergil?”

You received no answer, and though you blinked and let your eyes readjust to the new darkness to see the outline of his broad shoulders and his legs open in his signature manspread, you could not help but think something may have been wrong with fear trailing down into your throat and balling up into your stomach.

And didn’t help neither Burrito nor Shadow came to welcome you.

You felt along the wall for the switch next to the door, squinting as the light came on and gave you a full view to your boyfriend who was slumped over on your couch asleep. Your lips parted at the sight of his hair brushing along his chin, down and shielding parts of his face instead of its usual updo and letting you see every emotion that flickered across his face; a paradox in the enigma of him as his expressions always seemed more vulnerable with his hair down and in his face. He looked… soft; a peaceful and beautiful sleeper with his eyelashes fanned out over his eyes and his chest moving slowly with each breath he took.

He was a light sleeper, as he usually woke up before you in the mornings and would’ve definitely been roused by you turning on the light and calling his name, yet he remained still and at peace.

(A symbol of trust and safety he felt in your apartment and with you that would never go unnoticed.)

Vergil was half-laying and half-sitting as he slept; an awkward position with his neck rolling onto his shoulder that you knew potentially would be sore, and his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. And as you assessed him and his sleeping form, you nearly missed the two other members of the household all saddled up next to him and sleeping just as peacefully as he was.

You smiled. No wonder they hadn’t come to greet you.

Burrito was curled up next to his thigh, head lying atop it nearly and stretched out leisurely as he slept, his new favorites spots to sleep being anywhere next to Vergil as long as he’d pet him and give him treats. Shadow was a little harder to spot as she was a dark color, nearly blending in with the dark colors Vergil shrouded himself with, but you spotted her curled up in a small ball atop his lap, slowly growing after you both took her in, but not the slightest bit shy with either of you. You found Vergil’s hands holding her close to him, all three of them warm and utterly peaceful as they slumbered.

Your heartbeat increased; chest heavy and cheeks warm despite the night air and rain.

“…”

You made up your mind.

Quietly you shut the door behind you, turning the light back off and using your phone as a flashlight as you tiptoed to the bedroom, setting your purse down and quickly shimmying off your work clothes for a sweatshirt and sleeping shorts with the blanket from your bed and an extra throw blanket Vergil had gotten you when you were sick. You were careful placing one around his shoulders to not wake him, the other you wrapped yourself in as you yawned, and stretched out on the other end of the couch, careful not to disturb the others before you drifted off.

You weren’t too sure how you ended up with your head in his lap as you woke a few hours later, Shadow purring close to your face as she slept and Burrito tucked in lying against your stomach limbs all sprawled out, while Vergil finally retained a more comfortable position and had his body keeping all three of you warm.

It didn’t matter, as long as you were all safe, comfortable, and warm.

December 31st; one year

You liked Winter.

The snowflakes that fell in the city sticking to all the buildings and bare trees making for a beautiful yet somber display, the blanket of blinding powder on the ground you liked to trace your fingers in, the colors of the decorative lights comforting and leaving you feeling cozy as the final days of the year came around, and the cold letting you gravitate everything that was warm; letting you gravitate towards him and your two cats in the night for that semblance of balance and warmth.

Snow was quiet as it fell around you, and as you blinked through your eyelashes you realized the snow reminded you of his hair. Finely white and fluffy; yet one being cold to touch and the other bringing you comfort whenever you got the chance to run your fingers through it.

His hair, however, was down once more; brushing his jawline and the ends slightly dyed red. You didn’t like that.

It matched the red you saw stained on the pure white hours beforehand; you didn’t like the way it looked when droplets singed his hair and a streak spattered across his cheek. It didn’t match the night you wanted to have with him at all.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been holding you. You weren’t sure where everything nearly went to Hell.

A New Years celebration at Devil May Cry was planned, and everyone had been there. Dante, Nero, Lady, Trish, Kyrie, Nico, Morrison, Patty, then you and Vergil; all of you were there and it was surprising to not have to (metaphorically) drag Vergil by his coat to social occasions, seemingly no exceptions coming from him as he was rushing you that time around. You’d been fairly happy, conversing with everyone that you hadn’t got to see in a while and indulging on glasses of red wine as Vergil watched your intake by swapping your drinks every so often. He wasn’t drinking, staying on alert despite the amicable air, yet he was more than patient enough with you when you got a little tipsy and nearly spilled your drinks.

You blamed yourself for him not being on guard enough to stop what had happened sooner, and you blamed yourself for allowing yourself to get hurt in the moment after you got pushed into Lady’s arms.

Being fuzzy with alcohol didn’t help, whatever demons attacking getting the drop on you, yet it wasn’t like you were able the defend yourself anyway against a good hoard of them. Though Vergil pushed you to Lady because he trusted her enough and know she’d do whatever she could, it wasn’t enough when face was abruptly grabbed with your jaw nearly grinded into dust and the slice in your side deemed you a liability regardless. It only lasted for a brief moment – the fear bubbling in your gut, the whining in your jaw and watering in your eyes – before anything permanent damage was done and he had sliced through its body in precise precision.

The drunkenness dissipated, only being back within Vergil’s comfort for a short moment until mere milliseconds later you were with Kyrie that time around, Nero doing his damnedest to keep her free from harm as he always would. The pain was stinging and the nerves bundling themselves in your gut to make you want to hurl, but you held steadfast, cringing whenever Kyrie began to tend to your wound and smoothing her loving fingers across the bruises on your jaw. It wasn’t long until you were coddled enough to stand up on your own with a sigh from Kyrie, a pat on the thigh from Lady, and Trish’s thumb running across your jawline with a troubled expression, not that it mattered in the end anyway when you found yourself hanging out in Vergil’s arms whenever everything was said and done.

He never openly displayed affection with you around others, the fact he was doing it around others was enough for you keep quiet in complaining about it. You supposed everyone else understood as well, keeping their eyes and voices to themselves. The only ones who spoke to Vergil were the ones who knew him best: his brother and his twin.

Dante was assuring to enough to tell him he could handle anything else from there and to go home, asking you if you were okay and cackling when you rolled your eyes when he spoke about the wine stain on your shirt. Nero was more… of a guilty sort, arguing he should’ve seen it happen before it happened whilst the rubbing the back of his neck and asking if you were well. Vergil did well to decline any need for any help from either of them, and you felt your cheeks warm at his words.

“We’ll be fine going home. Thank you.”

Vergil carried you all the way home, your questioning of why he didn’t want to use a portal or fly answered in the form of not wanting to jar you in any way with your injury. It was doting you supposed, watching the snow fall along his hair as it fell into his face, but you got the sinking suspicion his mind was heavy elsewhere all the way until he pushed the apartment door open with his foot, closing it behind him gently and making way strictly for your bedroom.

You didn’t miss the way Burrito and Shadow perked up, coming to trail after you both as they seemed to understand part of the situation that was going on.

Vergil sat down onto the bed, still holding you in his arms as the movement jostled the cut on your side and you huffed and curled your knees inward. He stilled at the noise, arms stiffening and nearly like he wanted to hold you away from himself until you dropped your head back down onto his shoulder. He was warm despite being out in the cold and snow, and while you knew that you’d heal just fine and figured a little warmth would help with pain in your side, something was particularly eating at Vergil with the corded muscles in his bicep straining and the narrowing of his eyes every so often.

You knew what was bothering him.

A wet sigh pushed itself out of your lips, “I’m fine.”

You weren’t lying whenever you said that his expressions were more vulnerable with his hair down, which is why you assumed he liked to hide behind that curtain of white to keep them at bay. The silver of his eyes found your own, the dark ring of blue just around his pupil deeper than you had ever seen as he carefully eyed you, dropping down to stare at the bruises along your jawline. You watched his lips move first, hearing the words a few seconds later so quietly you wondered if he had really spoken to them.

“You were afraid.”

Eyebrows scrunching you knotted your fingers in your shirt, “Not –”

“Don’t lie.”

You shut your mouth, feeling your body flush and grinding your teeth, “So maybe I was…”

The admittance brought about that troubled look along his face, the creases of his face shadowed by the room’s darkness and highlighted by the moon, and he looked away down towards the blood that seeped through your shirt and stained it permanently. “This is the only time this has happened…” his jaw flexed, perhaps his molars grounded together and he grimaced, “Were you afraid I wouldn’t be able to reach you in time?”

The question diminished all annoyance over him fretting, blinking numerous times at the newfound emotion running throughout your body and wishing he would look at you so you could have a fleeting grasp of just what he was feeling. It wasn’t that; more you never had that type of interaction before and were scared for good reason of your life that something might’ve happened to you… but never that he’d not be there. A treacherous part of you whispered into your mind that he was blaming himself, rethinking everything, and you sat up into his lap, Vergil’s eyes following you once more as you gripped the lapel of his coat.

“No,” you answered evenly, the hand on your back staying and his other falling into your lap, “Afraid of other demons? Maybe, but not ever afraid of you or anything you may or may not have done.” Your cheeks felt cold without lying against him and your pulse thundered, no doubt something he was easily able to hear, and with your side still throbbing you wanted to shrink back into yourself but you were steadfast to sit up and speak to him, to let him see you were telling the truth.

He seemed to take it with a grain of salt, eyes still searching around your jawline, and you could practically see the storm building up behind his expression, “You know the dangers.” It wasn’t a question; a statement. A fact.

Your chest ceased for a moment at the idea of him thinking differently, “Yes, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t accept that. I feel…” your cheeks warmed, finding the words difficult as you weren’t really an affectionate person as well and spouted out every single emotion Vergil made you feel, “safe… with you. And it’s always warm around you – and not just because your body temperature runs hotter –“ God, you were babbling and grasped the hand in your lap to keep yourself from blurting anything else embarrassing out. You sighed, curling your fingers around his palm, “I always feel protected around you.”

The silver of his eyes were fast to find your own once more, the intense stare he directed you something you had finally gotten used to and not shy away from anymore, and you felt his hand turn yours over, fingers tracing along your palm while his eyes seemed to brighten. You had said, perhaps, something he wanted – and needed to hear.

“This will be the last time it happens.” Vergil spoke with finality, an unspoken promise to keep you safe and his own to never let it happen again. You let a small smile grace your face before lying your head back onto his shoulder, your hands intertwined and your body beginning to feel warm once more.

“I’d hope so. I like us. I like our family. And…” You’d never said it before, your own insecurities of being rejected keeping you from doing so, but you had felt that way for a long time. God, what the Hell. “And I do love you.”

You’d been together a year, you figured it was long enough to announce those feelings – especially if it put him at ease.

It seemed to do the trick, and though you may not ever hear it verbally and so casually, you learned Vergil was a man of actions to show his true feelings. The kiss was chaste in its own way, yet passionate in the way he pulled you into him. You heartbeat slamming against your ribcage into his own, his fingers digging slightly into your back and yours tightening into the fabric of his coat, and the wisps of his hair tickling your cheeks as your lips molded together in the perfect fit of the puzzle you’d been searching for. His answer was clear as day to you, and yet the true depth of his emotions for you would remain unknown, but you knew exactly where they stemmed from – the foreign heart you could feel along your chest.

Your answer had been accepted.

He was careful in leaning back onto the bed to lie down, your body curled on top of his as his chin found the top of your head and he kept a firm hold on your back and hip. You sighed contently, a huff slightly leaving him as his lips brushed across your forehead, and you closed your eyes at the dreamy warmth prickling down your spine and throughout the rest of your body. You would’ve been able to fall asleep right then and there, but Vergil’s fidgeting and the bedroom door creaking open slightly made you smile against his skin.

He sighed after a moment, the hand on your hip falling down onto mattress and his throat humming as he spoke, “Nosey…” he patted the bed a few times, “Come here.”

You didn’t have to guess who he was speaking to, blinking your eyes back open and watching your two cats jump onto the bed, Burrito coming to curl along your stomach, and Shadow finding her way to tuck her face against Vergil’s neck. They sought the warmth and comfort the same way you sought it from Vergil; the safety you two presented something you both looked for in each other. Both of the cats purred as they cuddled with you both, Vergil’s chest deepening with the breaths he took and his hand smoothing down your back in intervals slowing down.

You closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep in his arms full of acceptance.

Safe and warm; something you’d always feel with your family.

[lingthusiasm]

Lauren: I do love the idea that Chaucer had no idea that he was moving on from Old English to Middle English because there wasn’t a Modern English yet. Gretchen: How could you describe yourself as “Middle English” – that’s sort of like the “late-stage capitalism” that implies that we’re towards the end of something. Like, we don’t know, folks. Lauren: I don’t think English always does self-deprecating well. English has a lot of belief in its superiority as a language. I think we can say that about the ideology behind English. But I do love that English didn’t go for “Classical English.” Imagine if we said Beowulf was written in “Classical English.” Gretchen: We could have, yeah. We could have. Lauren: We just went with, “Ah, that’s old. I don’t understand it. It’s got cases. It’s got all these extra affixes. It’s old. It’s a bit stuffy.”

Excerpt from Lingthusiasm episode ‘No such thing as the oldest language'

Listen to the episode, read the full transcript, or check out more links about mythbusting and the history of language

[crypt-void]

So I have this bit, right? It's been a while since I've done it, but if I bring it up with my friends, they can still easily understand or remember the joke.

It's called the Dan Rules. It's often comedically egotistical and vain and was made because out of our little group, it was a joke that I am (as an act) an eccetric (maybe enigmatic if I'm feeling fancy) person who does whatever the hell I want.

If people thought to question my behavior, it was often quickly followed with a "that's just Dan" from my friends and easily dismissed. Sure, some of my boldness was probably left over from my middle school years, where I felt I had to lean into my weirdness completely so people would see me more as a joke than a freak.

But then I found myself in a safe, accepting environment, one where the need to bite and snarl and run away never came. I waited a while for it to arrive for me to feel the need to play the part of the fool for my newfound companions entertainment. It shocked me when I was left with genuine love and compassion. I leaned out of self-deprecating humor and completely into the (very obviously joking and fake) role of an egotistical short and angry ruler. For fucks sake we still have the name of the group chat as "Dantopia". I still did the bit to entertain my friends, to keep them laughing at my antics. But this time, it was accompanied by my own laughter. I enjoyed a new sense of freedom it brought.

The Dan Rules came out of when we were messing around, and I'd lean into this foolish king role, and I would proclaim something insane or childish. A popular one was, "Dan is never wrong." Often followed by a warranted scoff.

But the second rule is a good one, I think, one that really shone through as a reminder that I am not now who I was before.

"I do what I want."

I hadn't had much freedom before I met my current group of friends. I was quiet and kept quiet at times. I felt muzzled and chained, and as if I was a dog because someone forced a collar around my throat and pulled me on a leash.

It wasn't only that I didn't have the choice of self-expression, though. I'd also seen what happened to people who gave too much into reckless. I grew up with the weight of their actions carried on my shoulders, and while I have always been bold in my identity and beliefs, I was quiet and still when presented the opportunities to escape from situations where people kicked me down for who I was. I feared what would happen if I left my old group. Ironically, this fear led me to be isolated.

I found myself almost completely alone in the pandemic, and my only saving grace was a new school with new people. New people who didn't tell me to shut up or that I was ugly or that I needed to stop acting like an animal or they'd treat me like one. Instead, I met friends who handled me gently and taught me it was okay to hug just as it's okay to bark, and they welcomed me. I felt at home. I felt as if I knew myself completely.

So, with the second rule, which I still follow to this day, I added a private note.

"I do what I want. Because I can trust myself to."

Know thyself

I can trust myself to bark or scowl or growl just as much as I can to love and kiss and hug. I can stay aware of what is and isn't good and how much or how little I can trust someone. I can be bold and loving all at once and welcome others with open arms and flashing fangs.

I am in complete control over myself, and even when I am doing something so I can see my friends laugh, I am also doing it because I can, and I do what I want.

[sleepless-crows]

in inside out 2, the stream of consciousness ended at the sar-chasm and at the chasm's bottom was a river that led straight back to the belief system. i'm not sure if it was intended or not but it reminded me so much of positive self talk and its importance. it reminded me of this post that i came across 2 days ago. the people on the reblog chain talked about how we should stop saying self-deprecating things and instead replace them with self-aggrandizing jokes. because whatever we say, even as a joke, will somehow wend its way into our beliefs. rather than saying "i'm so stupid" over a little mistake, it's much better to sarcastically say "i'm a genius". and even if you don't believe it and you say it with as much sarcasm as you can muster, if you start saying it enough, it might find its way into your belief system and you'll find that you feel better with yourself. self talk, no matter how sarcastic, does have a huge effect on you, i know that firsthand, and i hope the things you say to yourself don't bring you down, but always lift you up and show love to yourself

[johnnystorms]

Your name is Steve Rogers. You are not afraid to die.

-

When you dream, there is a tower. Sometimes a mansion; sometimes nothing at all, just a winding, open road and the endless thrum of a bike between your thighs, more power than you thought possible.

Mostly, when you dream, it's like this:

The curve of a smile, the left corner lifted a little higher than the right. Muffled laughter, buried in the crook of your neck, and the scratching of facial hair against your throat. An arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung around a shoulder. A line of heat down your side. Sleek laboratories filled with gizmos you don't have words for, shiny enough that your dream-eyes just glance over them, always hunting out the one living thing in the room, dark circles under blue eyes and a tired smile and a metallic thud when you tap at his chest.

Sometimes there are gods, and monsters, and things you never thought you would see—never thought you could even dream—but at the heart of all of them is the same story. People will always do things they didn't think possible when something they want is on the line. Sometimes it's a person, sometimes it's power, sometimes it's a thing so vast and unbelievable you will never understand. But someone will.

You'll say, but all those people, and someone else will say, she doesn't care about that. You'll say, we have to help them, and someone else will say, that's not up to us anymore. You'll say, please, and he'll look at you, exhausted, and say, I don't know how to do this with you.

He will look up at you, that self-deprecating half-smile on his face, and your heart will burn with it. You will burn with it, and you will say, I had no-one. Nothing. You gave me a purpose, somewhere to belong. You gave me a home.

Sometimes the world is ending in your dreams, fire and fury and something violent coursing through your bloodstream, and you see his face and you want to put your fist right through it. Sometimes the world is quiet, and it's that early hour when the morning blue is starting to fade to a pale gold, and he smiles at you, and you ache with the desire for something different.

It feels -- like something slipping through your fingers. Dreams that could be memories, except you don't have names for anything in them. Things that feel real, but you can't catch long enough to hold onto.

Maybe the war has taken more from you than you realised. You gave it your body, your beliefs, your fists and your spirit. You knew it would take your peace. You did not realise it you gave it your dreams too.

-

Your name is Steve Rogers, and one day, you will wake up.