#have some basic decency please

[aralintheobsessive]

It is amazing that in 2023 there are still grown adults who don't cover their goddamn mouths when the cough/sneeze in public That wasn't cool pre-pandemic and it sure as hell isn't acceptable now

[iamtired10]

How do all 5 newjeans members also hyein fucks you

OUR FANDOM IS SO COOKED!

it's honestly getting worse every day and im just over it. like seriously how hard is it to have some common decency? i mean okay, if someone wants to request smut or anything like that, sure that's on them (though even then, people should respect boundaries) but asking for stuff about hyein? I MEAN EXCUSE ME!?

she's literally 16 fucking-years-old!

how are people even thinking that’s okay? like what? i see her as a little sister and that’s just so disturbing.

and let me tell you, ive seen worse.

some of these anons are just next level gross.

i genuinely hope they’re trolling because what was requested?

it’s not just uncomfortable—it’s SICK.

and it makes me lose faith in people seriously. there’s a line and some of y’all have just jumped over it without a second thought.

we really need to do better guys

good night (now i can't even sleep all night, tysm for that)

[spiderman2-99]

Good morning to everyone except whoever shocked up their bluetooth, connected to the gym's speakers instead of their earbuds, and blasted their (verbatim) "looksmaxxing hardcore gigachad +100 aura sigma male playlist" at maximum volume at shocking 0:23.

Why was Caramelldansen on there anyways?

[ncfan-1]

I have a few wants for Mae’s story next season, with the hope that she gets her memory back relatively quickly being a pretty important one, but it’s not the only want I have for the way things go for Mae that I consider important. There’s something else that feels even more important: namely, that Mae find people in her life that deeply love and prioritize her.

There’s something very pointed going on in Season 1. “Everyone seems to want you,” Qimir says to Osha, but by comparison, nobody ever seems to want Mae. When they’re children, Sol professes a connection to Osha, and Mae is little more than an afterthought; as an adult, Sol ultimately leaves nothing for her but the worst parts of himself. Qimir is visibly fascinated with Osha from first sight, and ultimately doesn’t seem to have thought much of Mae even before she attempted to desert his side; he seems to brush her off the way you’d brush a speck of dust off of you.

And don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that Osha should have chosen to stay with Mae in Episode 8. It doesn’t make sense from a storytelling standpoint, not at this juncture. This is the culmination of Mae’s character arc this season, where she is finally able to stop clinging to Osha, to accept that what she wants more than anything is for Osha to be happy, even if she isn’t with her. For Osha to choose to stay with Mae at that point would feel wrong, for Mae has to prove to the audience that she has reached this kind of peace regarding her relationship with her sister by accepting that Osha doesn’t want to stay with her without bitterness. As for Osha, this is the culmination of her character arc this season, which has been about taking her life and her power into her own hands, and it would be strange for her to stay with Mae when Qimir has offered to help her do what she wants. It wouldn’t feel right from a storytelling standpoint; for things to make sense, they have to part ways at the end of Season 1.

But even if Osha frames it as making sure that Mae is safe from any reprisals on Qimir’s part, and even if it’s what make sense from a storytelling perspective, what it ultimately amounts to is that Osha doesn’t choose Mae, either. Nobody ever chooses Mae.

And it’s so uneven. I’m not saying I want Osha to be this alone, too—I don’t. But it’s wrenching to watch this woman who has nothing and no one at the beginning of the season still have nothing and no one at the end of the season, because even the memory of Osha forgiving her and loving her again has been taken away from her. Even her memory of the one person she had left who actually loved her has been taken away from her. She had nothing then, and she has nothing now.

Like I said, it feels pointed, the way Mae is never chosen, and what I’m hoping is that this means that it won’t be the case anymore in Season 2. Vernestra, you say, and yeah, I have high hopes for that dynamic, but no matter how things shake out between Mae and Vernestra, that is never going to be a relationship of equals, and I don’t think it’s ultimately going to be the kind of relationship where Vernestra would choose Mae, not meaningfully. Not over every other option.

That’s what I want for Mae, really. Someone who will love her deeply and choose her over everyone else, every time. With her memories and without. Knowing what she’s done, the good and the bad, knowing what she’s capable of, the good and the bad, knowing her past, knowing her faults and knowing that those faults aren’t all of who she is. Someone who would choose her without a second thought.

Because I feel like there’s going to be a scene like the one in Episode 8, where this time, it’s Mae who chooses. But Osha had more than one option. Either Qimir or Mae were viable options. Osha had a solid foundation to rely on, whatever she decided to do. But as it stands, Mae only has Osha. Osha is all Mae has. And if we do get a moment like that in Season 2, where this time it’s Osha asking Mae what she wants, if she wants to go with her or not, if Mae’s options are still “Osha” or “be completely alone,” then it's not the meaningful choice that Osha had, is it? My point is, I want Mae, whatever she decides, to have actually had a meaningful choice. To not be completely dependent on Osha for love and acceptance. To have someone else she could turn to if she decided that she didn’t want to go with Osha. To not have her choices be: Osha—or no one.

[postnuclearwar]

honestly big shout out to bioshock for literally making their villain and the reason for the game's dystopia all about ayn rand.

her philosophy is garbage and i'm glad bioshock is going to outshine her legacy whilst showing why we can't allow policies like that to happen in society.

[malachitezmeyka]

Last thing I expected to do today was spend 10 minutes arguing with my grandma over a cat that's been dead for nearly a decade and yet here we are

[sluttypatrickstar]

if you reblog my post can you . like . not call me an idiot in the tags

[asterafroditis]

*crashes through your window*

hiiiiiii

may i request vil, deuce, and jack's respective reactions to the reader/yuu having their contact saved as "when he treats you with basic human decency 😍😍😍"

i think it would be kinda funny 🧍

have a FANTABULOUS day king make sure to like subscribe and hit that bell

𐔌 . ⋮ too easy to please .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Vil, Deuce, & Jack x gn! reader (separate)

𓏵 870 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

this took a while to write since I couldn't get Jack's character quite right (っ◞‸◟c) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

The first time Vil sees it, it’s purely by accident. You’re scrolling through your contacts while lounging in Pomefiore’s lounge, looking for someone’s number, when he catches a glimpse of his name on the screen. And then— that name.

He pauses mid-sentence, one perfectly shaped eyebrow twitching. “What… is that?”

You blink at him, confused, before realizing what he’s looking at. Before you can even attempt to change the subject, he plucks your phone out of your hands with the speed of a seasoned actor snatching a misplaced prop.

His expression is unreadable as he reads it over, his violet gaze narrowing. Then, he exhales sharply, giving you a look of absolute disappointment.

“Basic human decency? That is the bare minimum. You should be expecting it, not acting as if it’s a rare luxury.”

“And what’s with the emojis? Are you implying that I only look appealing when I’m treating you decently?”

He’s offended, but not in an angry way—more in a ‘I expected better from you’ way. His scolding is more about you than him, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you think someone treating you well is something to be shocked about.

He changes the name himself to something more fitting. Probably something along the lines of “Fairest Of Them All” or simply just “Vil Schoenheit”. And he makes sure you never change it back.

─────────────────────────

Deuce sees it completely by accident when you hand him your phone to call him after he swore he lost his own. He types in his name, goes to call it… and freezes.

He blinks at it for a solid five seconds, tilting his head like a confused puppy. Then, quietly, he mutters, “…Huh?”

At first, he thinks maybe you just let someone else mess with your phone, but when he glances up at you, expecting some kind of explanation, you just start laughing. That’s when he realizes—oh, this was on purpose.

“Wait—hold on.” He furrows his brows, still staring at the contact name like it personally offended him. “Is this… supposed to be a compliment? Or—? What does this mean?”

He doesn’t sound mad, just genuinely baffled. You tell him it’s a joke, but he’s still stuck on the implications.

“So… you’re saying just me being nice to you is enough to—??” He stops, frowning. “That’s kinda sad, actually.”

He’s not scolding you, but there’s this genuine concern in his voice. “If people aren’t treating you right, you know you don’t have to just accept that, right?”

Deuce doesn’t even realize it, but from that moment on, he starts stepping up even more. Carrying your stuff when it looks heavy, making sure you don’t walk alone at night, saving a seat for you at lunch—all these small things that he doesn’t even think about, he just does them.

And when you tease him about updating his contact name? He rubs the back of his neck, a little flustered. “…If you’re gonna change it, at least make it something normal, alright?”

But he never actually tells you to change it. And if you ever catch him smiling at his phone after getting a message from you, well… maybe he doesn’t mind it that much.

─────────────────────────

Jack only sees your contact name for him because you left your phone unlocked while you were studying together. You’d stepped away for a moment, and when a notification popped up, his eyes landed on the screen and the ridiculous contact name.

His ears twitch. His tail flicks. He stares at it for a second longer than necessary.

By the time you come back, he’s sitting there with his arms crossed, looking at you with the most unimpressed expression ever.

“...What’s with that name?” He nods toward your phone, his ears flicking again.

You glance at the screen and snicker, but Jack doesn’t look amused. “I’m serious. Is your standard really that low?”

It’s not that he’s upset—he’s just genuinely concerned. He knows you joke around a lot, but does this mean you’re used to people treating you badly? That thought doesn’t sit right with him.

“You shouldn’t just accept the bare minimum from people,” he mutters, glancing away. “You deserve to be treated with respect, no matter what.”

When you tease him about how serious he looks, he just huffs, his tail swishing behind him. “I am serious.”

After that, you start noticing small things—how he subtly keeps an eye on the people you hang around, how he makes sure no one takes advantage of your kindness, how he stands a little closer when he senses someone acting off around you.

Jack won’t say it outright, but if he ever sees someone treating you less than how you deserve, you best believe he’s stepping in.

And if you ever update his contact name into something more dramatic? He just sighs, ears drooping slightly. “You really don’t plan on changing it to something normal, huh…” Yet, despite his grumbling, he never actually tells you to.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Leaving You Not

Pairing: Dark Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Your relationship with Bakugo has long turned sour and bitter and you’re more than ready to put an end to it. Bakugo heavily disagrees with you .

WARNINGS: Toxic/Unhealthy Relationship; Abuse/Violence.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 The last Bnha work I have in my drafts, gonna have to work on it, but meanwhile hope you guys enjoy this!

--

Dating Bakugo had always been a one-way ticket to ruin your mental health. As your relationship comes to an end, you recognize that. 

Bakugo loves you, you're quite sure of it.

But his love consists in derogatory comments and mean insults that hit your confidence in the most destructive possible way. 

At first, every flaw of Bakugo's was heavily diluted by the red-tinted glasses love had put over your eyes. You blame yourself for that, always so quick to dismiss every flaw of his, instantly brushing them under the rug like they didn't mean anything. 

Time - however - forced your eyes wide open and to recognize the awful truth: that Bakugo wasn't a good boyfriend. 

Initially, you remember walking into the kitchen - tying the apron around your front, washed hands and ready to help out with cooking - only to be met with a nasty side-eye and a "Don't need your help. You're a shit cook." 

You wouldn't take the comment to heart, merely hugging the back of your incredible cook of a boyfriend with a fleeting cheek kiss and the promise to help out with cleaning the table and the dishes.

But no matter how much effort you placed into cooking - no matter how many different recipes you tried out, no matter how many times your friends tried your food and praised it, no matter how much and how hard you tried, at the end of the day Bakugo only ever directed those cruel short dismissive words.

"You're a shit cook." 

But as you reach closer to celebrating the first anniversary of your relationship, with 7 of those months being living together, the appalling and unpleasant reality of Bakugo's toxic traits got clearer by the day. 

Driving with Bakugo was a whole different nightmare - one that always left you in a sour mood, close to a panic attack and a demolished self-esteem everytime you tried driving.

Your boyfriend was good at almost everything, including driving, however his speciality was no doubt the ability to be disrespectful. 

The few times you drove him around in your car were tense and explosive, to say the least. Your boyfriend complained about everything - from the size, color and comfort of your small but useful car up until your driving skills.

For Bakugo, you’re too slow, you don’t drive well, your parking technique is pathetic, you drive too close to the lines, … every possible insult is rudely thrown your way until he finally declares what you already knew was in the way. “You’re a shitty driver.” 

It crushed your heart and soul to receive such humiliating remarks. 

Everything you did had to be criticized by him. Always. 

“You’re shitty at choosing house decoration.”

“You’re shitty at doing finances and home budget.”

“You’re shitty when it comes to cleaning duty on the house.”

“Your makeup looks shitty as hell.”

“Your sleeping schedule is all shitty.”

“That’s something a shitty friend would do.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Bakugo has always had a brash and crude personality, you were perfectly aware of that when you started dating him. 

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. And yet it does.

You never expected him to fully turn around his personality for you, but expecting basic decency and respect wasn’t an exaggerated expectation. 

It grew worse and worse to the point that you now hate to admit how much it thrills you everytime Bakugo, with a big scowl on his face, announces about some shitty Pro-Hero conference or a quirk-development workshop he'll have to attend in a different city or a different country. 

You hate how upset he looks over leaving you for a few days while you're internally leaping of joy, barely able to shut down the excited smile that threatens to come out.

That’s how you realize that love was long out of your relationship’s equation.

And now…

“Huh, the hell you talking about?” Bakugo's crimson eyes glare at you, arms crossed as he remains unfazed by the rehearsed speech you just breathlessly dumped. 

“Did you even listen to what I just said?” you question him, exasperation seeping through your best attempt to keep a calm and collected composure. “No, of course you didn’t. You never listen to me anyways.” 

“Bullshit.” he says, “I listen to you, but what you just said is total garbage. Doesn´t make fucking sense.” 

Your nails dig deeper into your palms, so deep that it’ll leave marks. 

“I mean it, Katsuki. This - our relationship - isn’t healthy anymore.” you continue, ignoring his huff. “I just want to be happy. For you to be happy too. And I don’t think right now we can be happy together.”

“We’re fine.” he dismissively declares, pushing his palms against the table to push himself up. “You’re overreacting, like you always do. The only problem here is you watching too many of those shitty movies you like so much, that crap’s filling your head with all that stupid nonsense.” 

And just like that he leaves the table, saying something about cooking dinner. 

Your body stays glued to the chair, empty gaze and slumped shoulders. 

It was supposed to be a serious conversation, your mind screams. And just like always, Katsuki ignored you - and your feelings. He didn’t even get upset, just dismissive. 

Your legs carry you to your bedroom before you even realize it, ignoring as the blonde man stares at you from the kitchen. 

You hesitate for a moment, hands hovering over the open suitcase, doubt quickly spreading its sticky root in your mind. Should you do this? Is this even right? 

Katsuki is your boyfriend. You shouldn’t leave him, should you.

It’s wrong.

It’s wrong.

It’s wrong.

Your legs give up, unceremoniously dropping you at the edge of the bed. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, it becomes increasingly hard to breathe.

You should leave - you have to leave - and yet there are emotional strings that attempt to curl around you and keep you.

Guilt. Love. Empathy.

An insidious little voice in the back of your mind points out that you are giving up on him, ditching him for your own sake. Abandoning him. Leaving to fend for himself.

Maybe you really are, but what else can you do?

The next morning both of you behave as if nothing happened, promptly ignoring the dense tension that persists in the air since the previous night.

You behave cordially enough and in return, Bakugo offers you his usual scowl when you hand him a bento box for lunch, muttering something about your deplorable cooking skills - something you turn a blind eye to.

With a bitter cramp to the heart, you realize that he clearly forgot about last night’s argument. 

When, at last, Bakugo announces his departure for morning patrol you softly kiss him on the cheek, before watching the blonde man leave the apartment with heavy steps. 

That’s when you rush back to the shared bedroom, almost slipping on the wooden floor before dropping on your knees to retrieve the small black trolley hidden underneath the bed. 

Pulling it to the bed, you open it, quickly examining the essential items you’ll need for the next few days.

A few clothes, some underwear, a pair of sneakers, hygiene products, your wallet, credit card. It’s not much but it’s the best you can do right now, given your prudent desire to avoid Katsuki. 

Maybe once he calms down, you can return to pack the rest of your things. Preferably with the company of a friend - that is if Bakugo won’t have angrily destroyed all of your belongings by then. You’re highly doubtful of the calm stoic act he put up last night, that surely won’t last much.  

You zip the trolley, putting it on the floor, ready to take off when a  glint of light catches your eye. Peacefully sitting in Bakugo’s nightstand is a framed photo of the two of you, happy and in love, and your lips curl into a soft smile before you know it.

It was taken during the first month of dating. A fair, where he won way too many plushies for you. The memory seems like a lifetime ago, back when he was somehow sweeter and nicer to you.

If you ask him today to take you to a fair he’ll just brush it off and yell that he’s busy doing actual important hero work, unlike you. That’s an angle he’s been pushing lately, fully aware that your job can’t compete against his.

What is the value of  insignificant office work when compared to the heroic job of saving lives?  

The thought has your nerves flaring up, tension and pressure reigniting. With a last fleeting look to the photo, you leave the room, dragging your trolley behind you. 

You’re only halfway through the living room when the front door abruptly opens, leaving you frozen mid-strad. 

“Hey, I think I left my phone here, did you-” Bakugo’s voice slowly dies down, leaving empty words floating in the air. 

You only watch, helpless as Bakugo’s crimson eyes trail around and discover the small trolley that stands by your side and his confusion starts melting into rage. 

Fuck. And that’s how your grandiose plan to avoid a confrontation goes down the drain. 

“The hell is that? You going somewhere?” his deep voice booms in the quiet area and it takes everything in your power not to back down a few steps away from him. 

“I’m…” you sharply inhale, trying to ignore when Bakugo reaches closer to you. “I’m leaving for a few days. You didn’t listen to me last night… so it’s best if we give it some time. To think.” 

His brows furrow as a look of livid rage appears on his face. 

“Gimme that shit, you’re not going anywhere.” he declares, lurching towards your luggage but you reflexively push your body to protect it. 

“Katsuki, stop!” 

A yelp escapes you when his body collides against yours, momentarily causing your balance to be lost but your grip on the suitcase only tightens as the infuriated blonde aims for it. 

“Damnit, stop struggling.” he growls, hand squeezing around your own to release it from the trolley while you attempt to push him away using your body as a shield.

You’re uncharacteristically stubborn today, determined to fight back for your freedom, and Bakugo must’ve realized that too as he changes his tactic in lightning speed, his heavy combat boot landing a brute kick to the luggage.

It flies out of your hand, away from you, and there’s barely any time for you to react before Bakugo aggressively shoves you back. Your feet get tangled and you trip, landing on your ass with a pained gasp. 

“You can’t do this. You can’t stop me from leaving.” you attempt to bring some sense into the situation until Bakugo reaches over and grabs a handful of your hair, twisting it in his hand. You scream, hand trying to scratch him away but with no avail.

“Katsuki, ple-”

“Shut up, damnit!” he snarls, anger boiling until it falls out and burns you. “The hell you think you’re doing? I’ve told you we’re fine. Then why are you turning this into something it's fucking not?”

“We’re not fine!” you deny, tears kissing your eyes. Bakugo only squints his eyes at you. “Why can’t you understand? Katsuki, just listen to me, please, this is not –”

A violent tug at your hair has you crying out, blazing pain searing through your scalp. 

“No, you listen up. And open your stupid ears this time cause I swear to god if I have to repeat this once more, I might fuck up your face…” the dangerous glint of his eyes and the hard tone of his voice is more than enough to prove the realism of the threat.

“You’re not leaving me. Not now. Not ever.”

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

summary: your bestfriend minho just wants you to see desperately in love he is with you

warnings: mentions of sex, past relationships, omegaverse mentions of heat and knots

part i • part iii here

Upon entering your apartment, you make a beeline for the couch plopping down, letting your mind run over everything that had happened. Your last ‘heat’ cycle had been several months ago and you feared what havoc the next cycle would wreck on your body if you didn’t find an alpha who met the basic standards of human decency. Too many guys you had met either by a friend of a friend or via omega finder apps lead to complete and total assholes who had little regard for how a heat cycle made you feel or in worst cases, those who had weird kinks with subservient omegas kneeling at their every whim. You grimaced remembering the one guy who insisted you wear a collar and leash for him… on the first date. Turning over on the couch screaming at the pillow beneath you.

Eventually, you found some strength to sleep in your bed. A quick nap turned into 5 hours, only waking at the buzzing of your phone.

“Hello?”

“Feeling any better?” Minho’s sweet voice echoed through the phone, “Did I wake you up?”

“Feeling better and yes but… my nap was much deeper then I anticipated.”

“Ah sorry, safe to assume you haven’t eaten yet?” Your stomach growled at the question.

“You would be right,” Swinging your legs over the bed to head for the bathroom.

“I have about an hour left in my shift, I’ll come by with food and we can watch a movie yeah?”

Your heart swooned at the idea, you keep your voice level as you respond.

“That sounds amazing, can you get Italian from that place across the street from you?”

“Of course, the usual?”

“Yes, please, I love you, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

He lets a soft chuckle as he mutters an ‘I know’ before telling you he’d be there in an hour or so. It gave you enough time to settle in for a bath, deep scrubbing your skin, hair, and face till you felt smooth again. You took the time to comb out your hair, picking out a set of clothes for your movie night with Minho because undoubtedly, you always fell asleep together on the couch. He always ended up staying the night but subconsciously you felt more inclined to look nice? No that would be ridiculous, for him to suddenly change his perspective of you because what? You put on the cute black cat patterned pajama shorts that he got you for Christmas accompanied by the matching cat paw socks and the sweater he left out your place one night that you had taken hostage of claiming as your own since it smelled like him…

There’s a gentle knock at the door indicating Minho was here, you open the door to see him wearing a black knit sweater and grey sweats holding a bag of take out. You could see the faintest out line of his c-

“I got your favorite, Carbonara with a Shirley Temple soda, where should I set it down?” He asked as he walked in.

“Coffee table is good, let me grab my laptop,” You said rushing out of the living room into your bedroom to grab the laptop along with a plethora of blankets and pillows.

He waited till you left the room before grabbing the hoodie by your door and rubbing his scent glands all over it. Along with the blanket and pillows set on the couch, he knew that If you even dared to bring someone home tomorrow night, they’d have to work past his scent and mark on every fabric of your place first. He sat down smugly opening the bag of food as you returned oblivious to what he had done in the few moments you were gone. He takes in your appearance, and the clothes you’re wearing, everything is from him, he hides his smirk as you take your place beside him. He watches the way your nose twitches as you take one of the blankets he had just rubbed himself all over.

“Jesus, Minho, did you just run ten miles? All I can smell is you…”

“Ah sorry must’ve been from carrying all the shipments in today, do you want to crack a window?”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind…” 

You really didn’t mind, his scent was warm like vanilla and cinnamon but grounded in something earthy like sandalwood. It brought you a sense of comfort and peace, always making you forget anything you had on your mind allowing you to only be consumed by him and his presence.

The two of you eat, talking about his work and the upcoming classes you had for your master's program. He was a dance major and you were an English literature major, just two people with a love of the arts in different ways. You spent the night watching comedy movies, Minho’s pick, they weren’t his favorite but he loved to hear your loud cackle or the snorts or when you were tired the soft giggles that shook your shoulders. Eventually, you found yourselves entangled in each other on the couch, he laid back bringing you into his arms with your head laid on his chest, when he knew you were asleep based on the soft snores, he rubbed his scent glad into your hair knowing the slightest wind would waft the smell. He should just get off his chest now and profess his undying love, how he’s been in love with you since you two were twelve but he couldn’t in fear he’d lose an entire friendship over it. Rather having you in his life as a friend then not at all was a deep fear of his. But, so was losing you to someone else…

part iii here

[sorryimananti-romantic]

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

I have a message for anyone living in Ohio

There is a bill in the Ohio General Assembly right now called Senate Bill 1. The bill, effectively, would force all public universities in Ohio to cut all their DEI programs and because of the way the bill is worded, it wouldn’t just cut things like organizations that have DEI in the title, it also means that Ohio’s universities wouldn’t be able to provide services and accommodations for people with disabilities

Now I was planning on attending a public university in Ohio to study Disability Studies and I also have a disability that requires accommodations.

If this bill becomes law, it would basically derail my life and the lives of thousands of other people who dared to not be born cishet able-bodied white men.

I don’t actually live in Ohio right now which means there’s not really anything I can do about this. But if you do live in Ohio I am begging you to fight this. Call your state representatives, protest, do anything possible to stop this from happening. This bill is such a blatant violation of civil rights and human decency.

Not a single President of any of Ohio’s public universities has spoken out to challenge this bill. The bill has already passed both the Senate and House, the House made some changes so sent it back to the Senate and it’s awaiting their second vote.

Again, this bill would effectively make it illegal in Ohio for anyone who’s not a cishet able-bodied white man majoring in anything that’s not MAGA approved to attend college.

So if you live in Ohio and you’re reading this, please do something. Make as much noise about this as you possibly can. Don’t let democracy die in darkness.

[storiesforallfandoms]

height advantage ~ jacob elordi

word count: 2857

request?: yes!

“Can you write how a 5’2 photographer was having trouble getting good shots at the Met Gala because people kept pushing in front of her so Jacob Elordi held her hand and helped her get to the front so she could get some good shots and then she gave him her business card to hook up in the future please and thank you”

description: in which the tall actor helps the short photographer to get good shots

pairing: jacob elordi x short!female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Being short as a photographer was a major disadvantage. Sure, sometimes you were able to get to the front of the pack at events, but most times the other photographers were too hungry for the money shots to remember common decency. You were shoved and stood in front of and completely ignored on more than one occasion. Most nights, you were lucky to get some good pictures of the first few people to arrive at the red carpet. You were terrified that your agency was going to can you soon.

You were given the opportunity to photograph the next MET Gala. It would be huge for your career, if you could get any pictures. You were determined not to let anyone shove in front of you tonight. You were going to get good pictures tonight. You were determined.

There was a dull chatter among the photographers as they waited for the event to start. It all went away basically immediately when the first vehicle pulled up. The interviewers got into place as every camera was immediately raised. The dull chatter became yells and camera flashes as the first celebrity stepped onto the carpet. You had been holding onto the barrier to really make sure no one stood in front of you, but now there were enough bodies pressing you against the barrier that you felt confident that you wouldn’t be moved. You got a lot of good snaps as more guests began to arrive. You were feeling almost giddy.

You paused long enough to check a photo you had just taken, but that was enough for a photographer next to you to start elbowing you to get in front of you.

“Hey, watch it!” you snapped.

“You snooze, you lose, kid,” he said before stepping on front of you.

You tried to step around him, but the space around him was quickly filled in. You sighed and got onto the tips of your toes, raising you camera over your head and hoping the shots you were getting were good ones.

Someone hit your arm and snapped, “Move, you’re blocking my shot!”

You almost dropped your camera and turned to curse out the person who hit you proved to be a mistake when you were just shoved further. You started to panic. You couldn’t see the red carpet anymore, so you certainly weren’t going to get any good pictures. Your boss was going to kill you if you came back with a small handful of pictures again.

“Hey! Is she okay there?”

An accented voice cut through the commotion around you. You tried to get a look at what was going on, but your efforts were for naught. You were starting to wonder if you should just leave and take whatever verbal lashing you were going to get from your boss.

Until the sea of photographers suddenly parted and a towering figure was looking down at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You were so taken by him that you couldn’t form a single sentence. He was so handsome, and so goddamn tall. Not just tall by your standards; everyone normally towered over you, but he towered over everyone. And he was looking - talking - directly at you. The photographers around you weren’t sure if they should be taking pictures or not, so they just kept looking between the two of you in shock.

You remembered he had asked you a question and finally managed to snap out of your trance. “Oh, you, I’m okay. Just being shoved around a bit. That’s par for the course with this profession.”

He extended a hand to you. You took it and gasped when he pulled you forward towards the barrier again. To those around you he said, “She stands here and she stays here. I get that you all have a job to do, but there’s no reason you need to trample one of your own for a good stop. Especially when she’s the smallest one among you all. No offense.”

You shook your head, once again unable to speak.

He smiled and winked at you before stepping back. “Here, get a shot of my good side.”

It took you a moment to remember what you were even supposed to be doing, and quickly fumbled with your camera to start taking pictures again.

Your fellow photographers were quick to move on from the encounter when a new celebrity arrived to the red carpet, but your gaze lingered on him as he started to walk away. You were almost embarrassed to say you had no idea who he was. He was obviously someone famous, but you didn’t recognize him. Either way, he was your savior tonight and you didn’t get the chance to thank him for helping you.

The rest of the night passed quickly after that. No one else shoved or trampled you, so you managed to get a lot of good photos. Once the last celebrity had arrived and entered the building, the reporters and photographers began to disperse. Some went into the building to photograph the events of the night, but you weren’t one of those so you were able to get ready to leave. You started texting your boss to let her know you’d scan the pictures onto your laptop when you got home and send them along right away when you heard someone behind you say, “Hey, was everything alright after?”

You turned to see the tall guy from earlier coming up to you.

“Oh...hi,” you said. “Yes, everything was fine. Thank you for your help there, by the way. I thought for sure I was going to be leaving another event with more pictures of the back of people’s heads than the actual event.”

“Does that happen often?”

“I mean...look at me.” You gestured to your small stature.

He chuckled. “Okay, point taken.”

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Jacob.”

You shook his hand. “Shouldn’t you be inside, by the way? The event is just starting.”

“I stepped out for some air. I come to these things for the charity aspect, but they’re not really my thing. I plan to eat and slip out immediately afterwards.”

Before I could respond, my Uber pulled up.

“I won’t keep you from getting home,” Jacob said. “I saw you out here and just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you helping me out back there.”

“Hey, I had to use my height advantage for good eventually. In this case, it helped me to spot a cute photographer before she was turned into a pancake.”

You felt your face heating up at his compliment. Suddenly you were tongue tied again and didn’t have enough time to try and figure out a response because your Uber driver was impatiently waiting for you.

You suddenly remembered the business cards you kept with you in case you ever got to talking with event organizers or celebrities looking for photographers for their photoshoots (or agencies with better pay and benefits, but you’d never say that out lout). You dug one out of your purse and passed it to Jacob. “In case you ever need a cute photographer for a shoot. Or...I don’t know, if you just want to talk.”

He looked down at your business card before smiling at you. “Is this your personal number or a business one?”

“Personal. It’s easier to reach me on my cell than to try and call my workplace.”

“I’ll remember that, then.”

You nodded and finally managed to break yourself from his trance. Your Uber driver was glaring at you through the rearview mirror as you climbed into his car, but you could’ve cared less. You glanced out the window as the car began to pull away. Jacob was still looking down at your business card, a light smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself in return. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you heard from Jacob again.

~~~~~~

The next day you were at your desk, going over some of the pictures from the night before to submit to your boss. You had managed to scan the photos onto your laptop when you got home the night before, but it was so late that your boss told you to wait until this morning to submit them. Most publications had their pictures from the Gala posted immediately after they were taken, so your boss said she wasn’t in any rush to have them.

“It gives you more time to pick out the good ones to be submitted,” she had told you.

Your phone vibrated, pulling your attention away from work for just a split second. You looked down to see an unknown number was trying to text me.

“looking for a cute photographer. know anyone who fits the bill? :) - j”

I smiled to myself.

“i may have some ideas. depends on what you’re looking for.”

The response came almost immediately.

“looking for someone to join me for coffee. say in about 15 minutes?”

The urge to shut down your computer and immediately run to meet Jacob was strong. But you knew you had work to do first, even though you would much rather be sitting across from him at some coffee shop than in your cubicle.

“finishing an assignment for work and then i’ll be free for my break. just text me a place and i’ll meet you there :)”

Within 20 minutes, you were approaching the place Jacob had told you to meet him. You didn’t have to look for him as he was stood waiting for you, his tall stature basically sticking out like a sore thumb. You didn’t think you had ever met anyone as tall as him before. It was almost intimidating, if he wasn’t so hot.

He looked up as you approached and smiled. “Hey!”

You were shocked when he pulled you in for a hug, but graciously took the display of affection.

“How was the rest of your night?” you asked as you both stepped into the shop and got into line.

“It was alright. Did as I said and slipped out after eating, but not before hearing a couple of the speeches they do talking about the event’s history and why they choose the yearly trends and stuff.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m lucky I didn’t die of boredom.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“If you really think that, I’ll take you to the next one I get invited to and you can sit through all the speeches. Then you can tell me if it’s not that bad.”

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was already talking about taking you to an event with him. You knew that it was way too quickly to be thinking about stuff like that - this was literally the second time you had met him and the first time you were actually spending any amount of time together - but there was something about the fact that he was already planning ahead like that that gave you some hope for where this was going.

After ordering your coffees and stepping aside to wait for them, Jacob asked, “How was your night? Surely it was much better than mine.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. I got home, put on my pajamas, and watched some trashy Netflix reality until I fell asleep.”

“At least trashy reality has some excitement.”

“A lot more than listening to speeches about the history of the MET Gala.”

“I could’ve looked up a Wikipedia article and read the whole thing from start to finish and it would’ve been more exciting than listening to that.”

You giggled. The barista gave you your coffees and you moved to a table by the window to sit down.

“How long do I have you for?” Jacob asked.

“Our breaks can last anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour. Usually if it’s 30 minutes, you get another 30 minute break later on. If it’s the full hour, I only get this one break today.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be stingy with your time, but I think I’m going to have some difficulty in letting you leave.”

“I gotta say, you are quite the flirt.”

“Only when I really like someone.”

We spent most of the time getting to know one another. You admitted that you hadn’t heard of Jacob before, so he told you about some of the movies and shows he had done. You had only heard of Euphoria, but had never watched it nor did you have any desire to. Jacob told you he wouldn’t hold it against you that you hadn’t seen any of his work. You told him about going to college for photography fresh out of high school because you knew that was the one thing you wanted to do more than anything. You were lucky enough that the company you did your work term with wanted to take you in full time after you graduated, and you were still there years later.

“You mentioned that stuff like what happened to you last night is a normal occurrence?” he asked.

You sighed. “Yeah. I mean, in general it is par for the course that photographers at such events can be a little ruthless. We all want the good shots that can and will be used, that’s how we make our money. But it’s especially hard for me because I am a short woman. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of female photographers who get taken just as seriously as the male ones, but there are also plenty of male photographers who aren’t afraid to shove a woman out of their way to get their shot instead of another man. Throw in the fact that I’m usually the shortest one in attendance and I become an easy target. Get me out of the way, get in my space, and then that’s it for me.”

“That’s awful,” Jacob said. “You’d think being shorter than they are would make it easier for them to just shoot around you instead of moving you out of the way.”

“You would think, but that’s not the case.” You shrugged. “It’s nothing new for me. I was always the shortest person in the room, and thus was treated one way or another because of it. It’s just now I’m worried that if I can’t do my job properly I’ll be fired.”

“They can’t fire you for being short.”

“They can if I’m not getting any pictures when I’m sent to red carpet events. Most of the time I only get the first one or two people to arrive and that’s it. My boss is mostly understanding about it, but I know realistically she can’t keep me if I’m not able to do my job. Or at least she won’t send me out to events anymore, which would be just as bad as getting fired honestly. I don’t want to just sit behind a desk all day using photoshop to fix up pictures before they’re published.”

The mention of your job had you glancing down at your watch and realizing how much time had passed. “Shit! I gotta be back to work in 10 minutes.”

“Already?” Jacob had a crestfallen look on his face.

“I know. I would much rather stay with you. I’m enjoying our conversation.”

Jacob stood as you did. “Let me walk you back to work at least. We can prolong the goodbyes that way.”

You accepted and you both headed towards your job. The walk was silent at first. You were trying to find something to ask him so that the time wasn’t wasted in silence, but nothing was coming to your head right now.

Luckily, Jacob broke the silence by asking, “When do you usually get off work?”

“Around 5,” you responded.

“Maybe we could pick this up when you’re off then. If you feel up for it, that is. I get it if you’d rather do nothing after working all day.”

“Well...normally I do prefer to spend my evenings by myself after work. But, if this isn’t too forward to ask, maybe you could come over and we could keep getting to know each other.”

His face lit up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He took you by surprise once more as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. If you weren’t already so enamored by this man, you probably would’ve been thinking about how funny the two of you looked together - the under 5′ photographer and the over 6′ actor. But all I could think about was how Jacob wanted to see me again so soon, and how much I did want to see him too. It was hard to break away and go back to work, but I knew I’d get in trouble if I showed up late from my break.

The only thing that kept me going was the smile on Jacob’s face as I turned back around to look at him, and the thought that it wouldn’t be too much longer until I got to see him again.

[mysteryfawn]

Hihi!! So I was thinking about a highschooler c00lkidd and a nerdy y/n that are in the same classes as him, and here's my request: Scenario where C00lkidd and Y/N are doing homework together and then they decide to gossip about other stuff :3

HI HII!! I'M SO SO SO SORRY, I'VE BEEN CAUGHT UP WITH SCHOOL LATELY- will be writing all requests now!!

Chalk scraped through the blackboard, every movement making the irritating noise louder and sharper. Yet the whispers of students inside the class somehow overrode it. The teacher, writing math equations, constantly looked at the clock, as they only had two minutes of class time left.

A forced cough drew the teenagers’ attention to the adult, who waited and anticipated what she had to say. “Unfortunately, my time is running out, so… For tomorrow, please solve these two Imaginary number equations! It’ll be a part of your test, and Factorial equations.”

Groans and sighs came from across the room as the educator took their stuff from the desk and walked off. Some students left the classroom, finding other parts of the school more interesting, while others, who didn’t, either slept on their desks or simply blocked off reality with their phones.

The once so loud room was quiet again, as only you remain active and starting to do your homework early, so you’d have a free afternoon… Although that plan was quickly going to be scratched once your deskmate kept staring at you eagerly.

“C00lkidd?” You responded to his silence, catching the red-skinned boy by surprise. Looking over to him, the 15-year-old coughed awkwardly and chuckled slightly, recomposing himself and his posture.

“Sorry! I, uhm… Thought you were smart… I mean- ARE smart! So, I kinda needed help with erm… The work, if that’s alright?” He struggles to speak, making you smile slightly from the sudden entertainment.

C00lkidd was an old student at this school, he’s been here since the 7th grade (being homeschooled prior)… It was mainly due to his skin condition and the fact that he and his father went missing alongside many of Robloxia’s big shots years ago. He was unsafe at other schools, as he’d suffer bullying and his grades would worsen… Not that he isn’t bullied or doesn’t have bad grades, but it’d just be more drastic anywhere else.

Because of his past, skin, and his weird mannerisms and psychopathic tendencies, he’s left alone by most students… There are the “brave” bunch that pick on him, but they’re usually left with a black eye or a broken bone.

“Well… Sure, I guess? This subject isn’t that hard… Just lots of numbers.” You straighten up, moving your notebook near his part of the desk, as you start to demonstrate and explain the mathematical problems.

The ringing of a bell startled you two after 20 minutes, although you knew that you could stay in the room for longer. All of the students that wasn’t you and C00lkidd left the classroom, leaving you two to your own devices.

“Y’know… You’re not as scary as they say.” You mumbled, accidentally letting that thought out of your mind uncontrollably, causing the red teenager to stare at you creepily. “I-I mean… People talk badly about you, I only really hear them, but… Talking to you directly proves them wrong.” Straightening your back, you cautiously explain, not wanting to get hurt or hurt his feelings.

A small nod came from C00lkidd, whilst you looked up at him empathetically. “You’re cool to talk to, you don’t judge or comment on every error, small or big, and you learn quickly. Sure, you have your own creepy or scary moments and phrases, but I can look past that since you treat me with basic decency, unlike the others.” You relaxed into your seat, gazing at him.

“Thank you…” He smiled, giggling a bit afterwards. “You’re weird.” He said simply, making you jokingly punch his shoulder softly, as you both laughed. It didn’t take long for the conversation to direct itself into many topics- Dinosaurs, dragons, which teachers are cool and which one sucks, which classmates would you be friends with, family, and much much more.

Once school ended, C00lkidd ran happily towards his dad’s almost worn-out car, hugging 007n7 excitedly. “I MADE A FRIEND!”

[ttalgi]

missent letters pt.2

wanderer x gn! reader

part 1 || part 2

tags/cw: academic rivals to lovers, some cursing, mc is: a Vahumana student in the Akademiya, roommates with Alhaitham and Kaveh, and a pyro vision holder.

a/n: I finally finished the book a year later (lol) which made me want to make a part 2! Also, please don't mind any ooc or wrong plot details...it's been a while since I've actually played genshin.

wc: 2.1k

“It would do your remaining few brain cells some good to stop banging your head against the table. Plus this table was expensive. I can’t have the wood scratched already.”

You stop mid head bang to send Alhaitham an incredulous look. “Please!” you plead. “Have some sympathy for me at least once in your life. My life is over.” You slump your body across the living room bench.

Without missing a beat, he replies, ”I let you live here, don’t I?” Alhaitham turns to Kaveh with a raised eyebrow, “Care to fill me in on their latest tantrum?”

“It’s not a tantrum—!”

“Long story short, they asked me to send out some envelopes for them because of their busy schedule, so I told them to leave whatever they needed sent on top of their desk. Among the envelopes was one for Hat Guy, which apparently they didn’t want me to deliver.” He takes another bite of the shawarma wrap that Alhaitham brought home for dinner. 

Kaveh turns to look at your defeated form. “If you didn’t mean to send Hat Guy the letters, why were they mixed up with the other envelopes in the first place? What’s the big deal about those letters anyway?” he asks while chewing.

You perk up your head to look at him. “Huh? You didn’t read them?” you ask.

“You see, unlike some”—he sends Alhaitham a pointed look—”people, I have basic human decency.”

“Again, I let you guys live here—”

“Basically, everytime I feel anger or annoyance towards him, I just vent about it on paper pretending that he’s the recipient. Then I just stuff everything in the same envelope because it’s easy storage that way.”

“Wait!” Kaveh interrupts. “Just how many letters have you written about him? That envelope was like an inch thick. It even cost me extra postage!”

“...What can I say? I have lots of vendettas against him,” you shrug.

Alhaitham interposes, “I don’t think I understand. What’s the big deal? So what if you told him exactly how you feel about him? I didn’t take you for being a people pleaser.”

“This is why people think you’re such a machine at times, Alhaitham!” Kaveh throws his arms up in frustration. “Some people actually care about how they present themselves to others.”

“Actually!” You interject before another one of their infamous arguments breaks out full throttle. “Alhaitham’s kind of right. I did write exactly how I feel about him, and that’s the thing. I wrote everything that I felt about him..” you trail off.

Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp. “No way! You finally confessed your feelings for him in those letters?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it confessing. I just talked about how I think his eyes are kinda dreamy despite being cold at times and that he has a really pretty face and that”—you almost give yourself whiplash turning in his direction—”Wait, finally? What do you mean finally? There’s no way you could have known about my minuscule crush on Hat Guy!”

“Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that you have some romantic attraction towards him,” Kaveh sighs while shaking his head before gesturing to Alhaitham. “Even this guy is aware of it.”

“You two do know that I’m not socially inept, correct?”

Deciding to ignore Alhaitham, you slump back against the bench. “I’m doomed.”

You pop up with an idea. “Wait! Do you guys think Tighnari needs any more forest rangers? I can take a break until this whole thing tides over and just help him over at Avidya Forest—”

Alhaitham quenched your wishful thinking. “Knowing how substandard you are with your vision, you’d accidentally set the forest on fire.”

You stumble back as if an arrow pierced through your body. You mumble out, “Must you always humble me.” You turn to Kaveh with hopeful eyes.

“I thought I'd never say this, but I agree with Alhaitham. You trying to help Tighnari in the forest would do more harm than good. Plus, you'd end up a victim to his lectures again. Remember that one time you—”

Feeling your body riddling with piercing wounds, you slump against the bench once more. “Yeah, I’m doomed.” 

//

It's been five days since Kaveh accidentally sent out the envelope meant for Hat Guy and you aren’t sure how much longer you have until the letters would be in his possession. Unless they already were... 

If you were blessed by the Archons, then maybe the envelope was lost or better yet damaged beyond repair in delivery, but alas, you know better. The mail system in Sumeru City is known for its attentiveness, especially since many important Akademiya-based deliveries are sent and received daily.

You haven't seen Hat Guy around much these days, especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively avoiding him. Mandatory lectures that you both share? You now sit close to the exit, far from him. The library that you guys are known to basically reside in? You begged Alhaitham to let you study in his office instead, promising that you’d do his portion of the house chores for the next two weeks.

Deciding to go home early out of your own volition (Alhaitham kicked you out because of an important meeting), you carefully tread the halls of the Akademiya making sure to peek around each corner before continuing. As you start to believe that you're finally in the clear, you hear someone behind you clearing their throat. Taking a look down at the shadows decorating the floor, you see the silhouette of the man that you have been avoiding for your own peace of mind.

"How much longer are you going to rat around the Akademiya for? It's not like you can avoid me forever, you know."

Feeling offended by his choice of words, you abruptly turn around to tell him off; however, the sudden close proximity of your faces has you taking a step back. If you hadn’t been paying attention to his face, you would have thought that he was unaffected by the action, but the slight widening of his eyes before returning back to normal has you knowing otherwise.

You give Hat Guy a pointed glare. Wanting to defend yourself against his statement, you open your mouth to retaliate but the sight of the familiar envelope in his hand causes you to simply shut your mouth and grimace instead. 

As he notices your actions, Hat Guy lets an annoying smirk grace his face. "Come on, say what you were going to say. We both know that you have a lot to say to me," he says while lazily waving the envelope around.

To try and play this in your favor, you start to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘avoiding you’. Also, what’s with the envelope? Never seen it before in my life.”

Hat Guy raises a brow. “What’s with this sudden stupid, chill guy persona? Anyways, it seems like you need a reminder. Not surprising considering our perspective rankings,” he subtly gloats.

“You little—”

”Let's see,”—he opens up the envelope and starts to smooth out the bottommost letter—”Maybe reading some of these letters will help jog your memory.” He makes a grand gesture of pretending to clear his throat before reading, and you can’t help but to cover your face with your hands to try and protect yourself from the upcoming embarrassing retelling.

“Again! Again, you received a higher score on an assigned research essay. It’s only been 2 months and 11 days since you’ve been enrolled into the Vahumana Darshan, so how is it that you’re the apparent “All-Knowing” about Time-Sensitive Commodities? Who do you think you are? The new Sumeru archon of wisdom? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be disrespecting our Lesser Lord Kusanali by comparing you to her—” he pauses and his eyes hurriedly shift to gauge your reaction. If anything, he should be thankful. If you hadn’t been so focused on not looking at him, you would have seen the crease in his brows mid-reading.

Hat Guy recomposes himself before continuing to read. “For Archon's sake. What’s more frustrating is your subtle boasting towards me. How could such a shitty personality even emit from a pretty face like yours? Though, I’ll begrudgingly admit that I actually look forward to these interactions that I have with you.”

“ST—!”

A coy smirk fills his face. “Oh? Why so embarrassed? Do you know these letters after all?”

“N-no…I was just clearing my throat.” At this point, you curse your pride for not being able to halt this interaction.

“Stubborn as always.”

This time he picks out a letter from the top of the stack..

“It's completely and utterly unfair how your resting face looks so serene. Why must you always be in the library at the same time as I? Your stupidly, bewitching face only serves as a major distraction, like how could I not stare! It's like your face was personally carved by a god. Also, how the hell do you make a simple fountain pen look so good? The way that your slender fingers grip the—”

“OK, that’s enough! Stop with the reciting! I admit it!” You feel your face heat up from embarrassment and your pyro vision only makes everything feel hotter. You raise your hands in frustration. “It was a whole mixup! Those letters weren’t even meant to be sent to you.” You dial back your volume towards the end.

He pointedly sighs. “Well that much I figured out. There’s no chance in Teyvat where you of all people would willingly subject themself to this. So, what are you going to do about it now?” he asks while crossing his arms.

It hurts to admit, but you felt stupid at this very second. “What do you mean?”

He tskd. “Do I need to explain every little thing to you? You’re ranked right below me, so I know that you’re not stupid. Are you going to own up to your letters and finally confess? Or are you going to just cowardly dismiss this like you’ve been doing?”

“CONFESS?” You almost give yourself whiplash from how fast you check to see if anyone’s heard you. You repeat yourself in a whispering tone. “Confess?”

“You talk about ‘looking forwards’ to our interactions, staring at my ‘bewitching face’ and ‘slender fingers’ and you think it’s absurd that I bring up confessing? Or would it be easier for you if I confess first?”

Without thinking you blurt out, “There’s no way that you actually like me back.”

“Do you ever see me bothering to interact with anyone as much as I do with you? I even surprised myself when I started to catch feelings for your stubborn self.”

You try to shake off the nerves before staring into his eyes. “Hat Guy, I like—”

“Wanderer.”

"What?"

"Call me Wanderer instead; it rolls off the tongue easier than Hat Guy. It’s a nickname that the traveler gave me. Hat Guy is a silly name that happened to stick around the Akademiya.”

“Lots of names you have there, huh?” you tease.

He lets out a sound that’s the mix between a chuckle and a scoff. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Well, Wanderer. I like you. So…will you go out with me?”

“Obviously.” (Your eye roll at his matter-of-fact tone is instinctual) “I wouldn’t waste my time with anybody else. Anyways, let’s get out of here. You were on your way home before I caught you, weren't you?”

Your lips start to raise into a smile. “You’re going to walk me home?”

“Noo, I’m saying this so I can just go off on my own—”

“Oh, shut it. Let’s get out of here.”

As the both of you guys stroll out of the Akademiya, your hand closest to Wanderer suddenly can’t stop twitching every so often. Your head fills with thought pertaining to your new found relationship. 

‘Is it too early to be holding hands?…Maybe hand holding is too PDA for him on open streets—’

A cold hand suddenly embracing yours breaks you out of your stupor. You turn to Wanderer, clearly surprised by the action. Starting to feel embarrassed, you try to pry your hand out of his clutch, only for him to tighten his grip. “W-What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He pivots his head to the opposite side, hoping that you won’t catch his ears turning slightly pink. “Your thoughts are so loud that even Mondstadt can hear them,” he scoffs. “Just lead the way.”

You start to walk with a slight pep in your step. “As you say!”

bonus scene?:

“Hey, can I give you a nickname too? Or is it too soon..”

He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“XxAssMaster69xX”

He lets out the biggest sigh. “Not you too.”

“Jokes, jokes—” you pause. “Wait, me too?”

He continues to walk forwards without you.

“Me too?! Hello???”

[randomasfuk]

idiot boyfriend

Jason x reader hurt/ comfort kind of ig I’m not the best writer

Reader has implied trama nothing all to specific though, some is this is a-bit slightly cliché ngtl

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You stared at the note in your hand, not quite processing its contents. A mixture of emotions bubbled inside you, accompanied by millions of questions as you stared at the small piece of paper, only just understanding the words written on it. You crumpled it up and tossed it across the room. Anger. Complete rage. What the hell? Of all the ways he could’ve done this, a note? Did he really care so little about you that he couldn’t even give you the decency of an explanation? He couldn’t even grant you so much as a goodbye. Then, the tears came. You tried so desperately to hold them back. He didn’t care enough to tell you why he chose this, so why would you care enough to cry? Not that he could witness the response. But he had obviously cared about you—you saw it in the way he treated you, how he looked at you, how he noticed the little things: what you liked, what you didn’t, how he made sure to accommodate even your smallest preferences. He would go out of his way, break his own habits, just to please you. Even the slightest bit. You couldn’t help but wonder what you did for that to change, seemingly overnight. What had you done for him to choose to break up with you over a note?

Back to anger again. You knew you weren’t perfect, but he was hardly… well, a well-earned nap. How the hell could he do this? How could he have the gall to do it over a mere note, with absolutely no explanation? What had you done wrong? Anger, frustration, and sadness fought for control in your mind. You picked the note back up. It couldn’t have been bigger than a post-it, and it read: “I’m sorry but we’re over.” That was it. That was all you got from him after months of dating. He couldn’t even be bothered to see you in person. You had taken things slow with him, but you were so sure things were good—up until fifteen minutes ago, when you returned from work. He was practically living with you.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your messages—nothing from him. Without missing a beat, you started typing. You had no clue what to say, so you went with a basic: “WTF Jason, you could at least give me a reason,” only to realize he had blocked you.

It had been about three weeks since you received your now ex-boyfriend’s heartfelt breakup note. Walking home from work after a particularly late and stressful shift, the Gotham air hardly helped your frustration. Seething for a multitude of reasons, you were lost in your own head, distracted. Distracted enough not to notice the man creeping up behind you in the dark alleyway. Only when it was too late did you realise, and you hit the ground. A stinging sensation engulfed your elbow and leg as they scraped along the rough concrete. “FUCK!” you exclaimed, looking up at your attacker—a man in all black, with a Ruger LCP in his hand. You couldn’t help but scoff at how he appeared to be the most basic mugger ever.

“Money, phone, everything, hand it over,” he said quietly but demanding.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” you retorted. You weren’t a vigilante, but you knew a thing or two. You could handle this guy—he was short, his voice fairly high, and he had a mask covering the bottom of his face. He looked to be about fourteen, maybe. He looked taken aback by your response, but before he could say anything else, he was face-first on the ground. None other than Red Hood stood where the boy once was.

And you were pissed. Upon sight, you picked up a nearby stone and threw it at his helmet. It hit with a thud. He whipped his head around to look at you, but didn’t say a word before walking away, which only pissed you off more. You scrambled to your feet and yelled after him.

“What the actual fuck, Jason?”

He merely glanced at you before muttering, “Names.” His voice was deadpan.

“I don’t give a shit. Why would I? You didn’t care enough to give me so much as an explanation,” you spat back.

“Why would you give a shit anyway?” he asked in the same deadpan tone.

That caught you off guard. “Why would—WHAT? Because you are—were my boyfriend, Ja—Red Hood?” You stumbled over your words, slightly confused as to why he would think otherwise. You were affectionate in your relationship, which had always been encouraged by your very different lifestyles. Him being a vigilante and all, meant you’d had less-than-ideal amounts of time together.

You didn’t know what to do, how to feel.

“Why?” he spoke, his voice weak, quiet. You’d never heard him speak like that—so softly?

“Why what?” you questioned.

“Why… why was I your boyfriend?” His voice sounded the same as before—like he was unsure of what he was saying.

You found yourself unsure again. It was becoming the night’s theme, and it was really starting to get under your skin.

“Because I enjoy you,” you said.

He turned around to face you. “Elaborate,” he demanded, sounding more sure of himself this time. You took a moment, not knowing what to say. All you could think was, ‘I love you, dickhead.’

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could speak. “I mean, I enjoy your humor, the way I can talk to you about whatever the hell I want, whenever I want, knowing you won’t judge me. I enjoy knowing that, despite how fucked up I am, you won’t judge me. I enjoy cuddling with you on the couch. I enjoy the way you act like you know how movies or shows are going to end, even though it’s really fucking obvious you don’t. I enjoy relaxing with you after you get back from patrol, the way you look at me, the way you organize the cups in the cupboard in a really specific way I can never remember until you do it again. I enjoy your presence, even when we’re not doing anything. I enjoy talking with you until ridiculous hours in the night, and I know I always say it annoys me, but I actually think it’s really cool when you come through the window. And I really, really enjoy the white streak in your hair.”

Jason remained silent, his mask preventing you from gauging his emotions. But you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“You wanna leave me? Fine, I guess, but can you at least tell me why you left? What did I do? You can’t possibly think I didn’t care because I—” You paused, the words catching in your throat. “You know what? Forget it.”

You turned to walk away, but his voice stopped you.

“I love you,” he stated, definitively.

That shocked you. AGAIN.

“That’s why I broke up with you.”

You were stunned, to say the least. You took a breath to compose yourself. “Jason, that’s the single most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I’ve heard some stupid shit, so please, in your words, elaborate.”

It was his turn to be at a loss for words. He couldn’t fathom why you didn’t understand, and you couldn’t fathom his logic.

“Because I’m fucked up. I’m broken to shit. Like smash-a-vase-off-the-wall broken. And it’s only gonna get you hurt.”

You were still dumbfounded, but much less than before. You walked over to him until you were right in front of him, without thinking, looking up into where his eyes were. Although you couldn’t see them, tears were flowing down your cheeks now you never even noticed when they started.

You were right in-front of him now and he knew he shouldn’t, he should walk away. But instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he leaned his on yours.

“I know,” you whispered, “but you’re not as rough around the edges as you think. And I think it’s part of why we work. Because you’re broken, and so am I. Our little broken vase bits fit together really, really well.”

“Can we please stop using the vase analogy?” he laughed softly. “That’s one of the most cringey things I’ve ever said, as much as I meant it.”

Everything stopped for a moment—it was just the two of you. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to truly feel the moment, which ended all too soon. Jason sighed into your hair.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“If you leave, you will,” you replied.

“Now, are we gonna keep hugging and arguing about this like idiots, or can I get my genius, stupid, funny, kind, idiotic, caring, amazing—did I say STUPID—boyfriend back?”

He pulled back, looking at you, and wiped a tear rolling down your cheek with his thumb.

“How could I say no to you?” he whispered.