#i just think they both deserve to go to therapy and have a nice home where they feel safe and loved)

[whirlybirbs]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[azulock]

Day eleven, almost at the end, now all that's left is to check up on the oh so flammable Gävle Goat! Yall know I'm very much in the give Reo therapy club, so here we are, come on, he deserves love and support. Also, yes, I have a very casual relationship with my father, why you ask?

summary. when take the holiday to finally bring Reo to meet your father, he is overjoyed - but at the same time, he is just as anxious. A part of him insists that your father won't like him, despite your assurance that everything will be just fine. Still, he worries, but maybe he just has to accept that some things are worse in his head than they are in reality.

pairing. Reo Mikage x Fem!Reader

wordcount. 739 words

11. Family Christmas Dinner - Reo Mikage

"But what if he doesn't like me?" Reo whined as you pulled him down the snowy street. "I mean, I'm sure he knows you c-"

"Reo," you cut him off, turning to him and taking his hands in yours, "love, you are getting caught up in your thoughts. What did your therapist say about that?"

"Ah," he paused, sighing before looking up at you. "That I should focus on what is real."

"Right," you assured him, squeezing his hand in support, "and in this moment, what is real?"

"The birds in that tree, the snow on the ground, you," Reo looked around, counting the things surrounding him until his eyes met yours again, his hands returning your gentle squeeze.

"Good, good," you soothed him, taking one step closer so your faces almost touched. "Besides, if my father decides he doesn't like you, he can take that up with me. This is my life, he doesn't get to make the choices, and I love you."

You were right, he knew it, and despite doubts still swimming in his mind, Reo felt safer by your side. When you'd first brought up the idea of spending Christmas with your father - since this year his wife would be spending the holiday with her daughters - he was equal amounts excited and terrified.

Since you lived far from your father, and you were always so busy, he hadn't had the chance to reach this milestone in your relationship yet. So he was happy, overjoyed, but he still couldn't help the fear that he would cause a bad impression.

"I know, but," he grumbled, biting his lip as you came to the front door, "you should have let me buy a better gift at least."

"Reo," you laughed, shaking your head as you pushed the key in the door, "that would make my dad think you believe you can buy people with money. That wouldn't have helped your case. Now, we are going in."

You waited for him to nod before opening the door, calling out for your father once safely inside. From the stairs to your side came your father, poking fun at the both of you for dressing so nicely when you'd just be spending the day indoors with him.

You rolled your eyes and snapped back, telling him he should dress a bit better for the holiday, before coming up to him for a hug. It was shocking to see the casualty of your relationship, but at the same time it was soothing, the type of easy affection Reo had never known in his family.

But before the thoughts of his family could dominate his mind, Reo felt himself being pulled back to earth, pulled by your father into a hug that he awkwardly tried to reciprocate as you scolded the old man for not respecting people's spaces. When your father pulled back and rolled his eyes, Reo could clearly see how you two resembled each other in more than just appearances. Quickly, you stepped in, getting the introductions out of the way.

In all truth, Reo had come ready to have to try his best to impress your father, he'd come ready to try and charm his way out of a judgmental stare. What he didn't expect - despite your how you'd told him before - was to find a laid back man who poked fun at Reo whenever he'd be at a loss for words and who acted as if he was of as little importance as any other person on the street. In a way, that made him feel more at home than he could ever have imagined.

"And here I thought she was ashamed of me or something, 'cause she never brought you around," your father laughed as you shook your head with a groan.

There was a moment of pause, as the words spoken as a joke resonated deep within Reo. But quickly he laughed along, a genuine, true laugh. He could still remember the difficult nights, where he sat alone thinking the same thing - that he hadn't met your family yet, because you felt ashamed of him.

But now he could see it wasn't true. Where he'd come anxious, expecting a protective father who knew Reo wasn't good enough, he found a man who trusted his daughter's choices, and welcomed him like family. Yeah, maybe you - and his therapist - were right, some disasters really only exist in his mind.

shout out to: @fivenightsatwhoreville @minarinnn @loser-vxbez @pinksodacan

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

I believe brittney doesn't deserve the unrecognization but i want to see relationship hcs about her. Mc/Reader is stoic and stern but can be sweet to her, A type of relationship where brittney is somehow different around Mc (Stealing glances, daily ranting to mc, i just like to think sweet things being happen)

A Gyaru's Rhapsody (Brittney x Stoic and Stern! MC/Reader - Relationship HCs)

Anon, I hope you enjoy, had fun writing for Brit, and I hope you lot enjoy reading it! (“⌒∇⌒”)

Also I do agree she is underrated AF. >:(

Also dw y'all Jess loved Brit as a bsf for life in this. <3

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Rhapsody: an effusively enthusiastic or ecstatic expression of feeling.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were notorious for being cold and distant.

Hell, even Geo had deemed you icy.

Across the school people had learnt to simply not interact with you, because dear gods above did you master your intimidating death-stares.

Alas, the sole person whom you genuinely got along with, to everyone's surprise?

Brittney-fucking-Claire.

People were astonished, hell, she was astonished when you and her became friends (by your wish).

Usually she's the one who made the rules, who led the charges.

But she doesn't mind.

She personally thought you were intriguing, your personality was that of Geo's and Jess's smushed together, so Brit was shook when you went out of your way to talk to her.

After a while you join the group, becoming somewhat good friends with Crowe, Jess and Deryl while getting a lot closer to Brittney.

She didn't know why, but she felt a strange sense of security around you, she felt safe.

Unjudged.

Free to say how she felt.

You warming up to her - for reasons she still couldn't figure out - along with you being so oddly nice to her made her feel strange.

Eventually she decides it's not a facade and fully accepts your friendship.

Will start splurging all her gossip to you, you want dirt? Tea? Juicy deets? She's got it all.

Starts sharing her skincare routine with you (only shared this info with Jess so you better keep it secret pookie).

Soon enough you and her start going to facials and hair salons together, then do manicures and pedicures, then each other's homes.

Essentially you worm your way into her heart, and she's worried.

She'd not felt this strongly for someone in a long fucking time.

But...you'd proven to her repeatedly by this stage you were trustworthy...that you genuinely cared about her.

It slowly creeps up on her, the realisation that she's fallen for you, hell she didn't even crush on you, she fucking fell so hard she doesn't wanna get up.

She'll ask Crowe for information about you, and then advice.

He becomes a wingman frfr

Crowe will have to drop hints for you to confess, so when you finally do (btw congrats Anons, doing that shit sounds hard), Brittney just nods briskly. "Brit...I. Like. You." "Yeah, I like myself too." (liar) "Romantically. I...wanna be with you. Genuin-" "Yes."

When you both start dating, Brittney would have already been comfortable with you to the stage of being able to talk about literally anything (y'all love shittalking the nastier girls at Olympieus)

Also defends you from bullies, and will protect you if she deems it necessary (she always will, any excuse to hit those girls is a good one)

However, she becomes much more possessive.

Not to an extent where she'll restrain you.

She will simply fight anyone who dares try and steal you from her (spoiler alert, she wins)

When one of you is sad, you have an unspoken ritual to grab vodka, go to the others' house and rant, ramble and rave on about your problems.

Banger form of therapy.

Brit will also help you study if you need it, she's willing to take notes for you, hell, even tutor you if absolutely needed.

Will also give you #girlboss treatment

You both go out looking badass.

And you have the most fun ever. In short, you're both devoted to each other. And you're both more than happy to keep it that way.

[bitethedevil]

Writer game!

What recurring themes/topics in your writing do you have?

TW: Talk of Abuse and Trauma

Also: beware of spoilers if you haven't yet read Living with The Devil You Know and want to.

I think in general there’s a big theme of trauma and abusive and toxic behavior in my writing. This is also why I prefer writing Dark!Raphael. It’s almost hard not to include those subjects with him, which might be why I’m enjoying writing him so much. I’ve directed plays in the past, and for some reason the major theme in those plays have always ended up being trauma.

It’s an interesting concept to explore I think, and perhaps also, on a more personal note, because I find it therapeutic to explore it through art. Also, before I keep yapping, I also just want to say that there is no wrong way to experience trauma, and that the things I write about are mainly from my own perspective and things I have learned about myself through dealing with my past and by talking to others with similar experiences (Nothing to worry about at all btw, I am better than I have ever been. Therapy is a godsend).

I try to make it as realistic as I can. Such as small things and reactions from my characters that I don’t blatantly point out is due to trauma, but it makes sense in that context.

My best example is Tav in ‘Living with The Devil You Know’ (Spoilers). She’s grown up with a cruel father who beat her, and it’s hinted at that he also verbally abused her. Her trauma presents itself both mentally and physically in the form of the burn scars on her face that she had chosen to hide for years.

Ironically, it’s Raphael who reveals them, even though he is the same kind of man as her father was. She shows it to him without knowing if he accepts her for it or he simply does it to ‘pour salt in the wound’, so to speak. Tav also learns that just ignoring her scars of the past, metaphorically and literally, does not mean that they have gone away.

On the other hand, she also continues the cycle of abuse in a way. She’s cold, selfish and overly practical at times towards other people, because that is how she has learned to survive. She begins to see herself as evil instead of trying to understand where it is all coming from, which I think unfortunately is very realistic for many survivors of abuse. It’s much easier to simply demonize oneself than to start dealing with the past and explore where those survival mechanisms are coming from.

I also think their relationship is depressingly representative of a lot of abusive and toxic relationships. I think that very few people figure out immediately that ‘Oh shit. My partner is cruel and abusive towards me, and they are actually not a good person’. It’s more ‘Oh they did manipulate me that one time, and they did do that other horrible thing too, but other times they are really nice and loving! They’re human too and makes mistakes!”.

Tav rationalizes the shit out of everything that man does A LOT. I love writing characters like that. With Tav specifically, her tragic flaw is that she has been abused in the past. She knows how it works. She is aware of what’s going on. And still: a part of her thinks she deserves it, because she sees herself as ‘evil’ too.

(Spoilerspoilerspoiler if you haven’t read the latest chapter. Though it is pretty obvious that it would happen eventually) Even after she is freed, as she has longed for, she goes right back to him, though she knows exactly what kind of person he is. Because the depressing truth about a lot of untreated trauma is that abuse and evil starts feeling safer and more like home, than a functional relationship ever could, because such a relationship is unknown.

I find Raphael interesting for many reasons, but the themes of abuse and toxicity are so interesting for me to work with when it comes to him, because it just makes sense. An abusive relationship with an abusive person on paper sounds horrible and one might not understand how those things even happen. Like why would a person ever “”accept”” being abused?

But then you see someone like Raphael, who we all know is an evil little shit, and we still love him. We still want to be with him, and we are still attracted to him. He has his redeeming qualities and it’s very possible that he has been through some shit himself, sure, but that’s the point: such is the case with most abusers. They don’t appear as monsters or devils (though Raphael quite literally does), they appear as nuanced human beings. Doesn’t make them less abusive or dangerous though.

I like writing about conflicted people who does things against their best interests, because they have been somehow wired or indirectly forced to do so. I like making my characters take decisions that are objectively ‘stupid’, but still make myself (and the reader, hopefully) think about if I really would have done much differently given the same circumstances?

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

(And thank you so much for letting me participate and giving the opportunity to yap about my writing <3<3)

[crypticjackal13]

Testing out these hc's and also NSFW. Don't like, don't read. What you do on the internet isn't my fault. (CW: mentions of trauma, food, drinking, and s3x)

My Ghost(Simon Riley) Headcanons

He's not addicted to his mask. The dialogue between him and Soap about it is funny as hell("bet you sleep with that thing" "soundly.") But like he probably takes his mask off once he's home alone and what not. Sometimes forgets to wash it but he keeps a reminder on his phone to do it at least once a week. Has a few extras with his stuff, and carries at least one baclava in his uniform's pocket just in case.

He's not super insecure. He's confident, he knows he's hot. I could see him being a bit self conscious about his scars, and he likely doesn't like anyone touching them. But other than that, he doesn't mind how he looks(like his body weight, his height, etc)

Doesn't smoke(or very rarely does it). But he does drink. It's very controlled, though, and he refuses to have any more than 3 drinks because he doesn't want to be irresponsible. Some nights he's actually likely to be the designated driver if the team heads to a pub.

Eats regularly. At least two good meals a day, and he's fairly mindful about what he's eating. Sometimes he doesn't have the time or resources to get like a bunch of veggies or whatever, so he does settle for fast food or junk food. He doesn't starve himself, he knows he won't be able to do his job efficiently if he does.

I think he's not cold and emotionless all the time. He likes jokes and witty banter!! He probably doesn't mind listening to someone ramble for a while!! It might take him a bit to warm up to someone on his own, but he might feel better if there's a mutual friend(i.e. Soap). But he isn't a robot all the time it just takes him a minute to adjust to a new person. (He does always have that lingering fear of betrayal, though. He wishes it wasn't there always nagging at the back of his mind.)

Did go through a lot of therapy. Both for his physical health(after being hung by his ribs and what not) and his mental health(for basically everything). He wouldn't have been considered fit to serve if he hadn't done it. (I also think this would make him the type to make jokes about his own trauma sometimes just for the hell of it)

NSFW. It takes a solid couple of weeks/months into a relationship for him to feel comfortable with sex. He doesn't mind kissing/hugging/holding hands/cuddling, but in terms of intimacy he needs to know that he's safe with someone to actually do that stuff.

He's very nice about it. Checks up on his partner multiple times throughout to make sure he's not doing anything to upset them. If he is, he immediately backs off.

Manhandles by accident. Tends to get lost in the moment and so he just kinda,,, moves his partner around. Quickly apologizes and chuckles and asks them if they're alright in this position.

He's a little kinky. Not a whole lot, but I imagine he'd be okay with things like easy bondage, light impact play, and maybe some stuff with toys if that's what his partner likes. If his partner wants to do something new he does hella research first. Also he may be more leaning dominant but he's not gonna be a hard Dom.

Tends to pass out right after the fact. To combat this he usually tries to keep some snacks, drinks, and wipes in the room in case his partner wants any. Of course he'll make it up to them in the morning--I think he's really good at making proper tea and coffee.

TL;DR I see way too much mischaracterization of him. He's a little guy and he deserves better. :)

[callmewrinkles3]

Charlie

December 2022

Em really didn’t want to be out. She was constantly tired and still felt stressed, but Blake insisted. Her cast was off and she’d finished physical therapy so “cmon Timmy, the two of you are coming out for dinner and drinks.”

So she did what he told her and got dressed, the three of them sitting at a table and chatting. It was good food and relaxing and she actually enjoyed herself. Dan spotted where Blake’s attention was being drawn, a woman standing at the bar turning down a guy. She’d glanced over at Blake a few times but kept looking away.

“Have a crush, Blake?” He asked and their friend shook his head and pushed his glasses up.

“She’s cute. But you know me.” Em looked at him and stood while pointing at their glasses.

“Same again?”

“Yeah, please.”

Going up for drinks was just the first excuse that Em could find to go up to the bar and stand beside the pretty brunette Blake kept making eyes at. She’d deal with him being annoyed at her later, her friend deserved some happiness for once. As much as he tried to hide it she could hear the sadness when he said “you know me”. He’d put his personal life on the back burner for them.

It wasn’t that Blake didn’t want to meet anyone and settle down and be happy, but he didn’t have time. And it was entirely because of her and Dan. The thin walls between her old apartment and his worked both ways and she knew he’d stopped bringing anyone home over lockdown and never did again. Between how 2021 started, the mess of that year and how it ended, and the hell that had been 2022 he didn’t stand a chance. Instead he kept an eye on them, half brother, half parent, all Blake.

Officially his job was to be Dan’s manager but after everything he became a professional third wheel to make sure they were ok. He’d spent the last year keeping his barely functioning best friends going and ignored his own happiness. So for once Em - helped by the g&ts she’d drank already - was ignoring how shy she could be and telling the girl that Blake was interested if she was too. Em couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen Blake’s eyes light up at seeing someone. It’d be worth his annoyance to make him happy. He’d put her happiness first, it was her turn to do that for him.

“Can I get a gin and tonic, a Jack and Coke, and another pint please? And whatever her next drink is too? Thanks so much.” Em pointed to the girl beside her as she ordered once she’d stepped into a free spot before turning and holding her hand out. “Hey, I’m Em.”

She saw the surprise on the woman’s face the second Em introduced herself. If someone ever did that to Em in a bar one night she’d probably run away, and definitely run back to Dan, but the woman didn’t. She had skinny jeans and converse on with a tank top and a flannel shirt over it. The woman stood there with her nearly empty glass for a second before speaking.”

“Hi. I’m Charlotte. Can I help you?”

“This sounds insane, but yeah, you can. I mean not exactly me but my friend. See the cute one over there with glasses? His name is Blake. He thinks you’re cute.” Charlotte glanced over and back carefully, but Em saw the “oh fuck” expression on Blake’s face.

“He does?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about his face, he’s mad at me for telling you because he wasn’t going to say anything. But I promise, he’s a sunshine. The sweetest man in the universe after my husband. So I figured if you think he’s cute you can come sit with us and say hi. And if you don’t that’s fine, enjoy the drink. We won’t bother you.”

“You actually want me to say hi to someone at Daniel Ricciardo’s table? Really?”

“Sometimes I forget my h-boyfriend is a celebrity. But seriously, don’t think of him like that. Dan’s a regular guy, and Blake’s even more normal. So if you feel like it come say hi?” The drinks were out down beside her and Em tapped her card on the machine to pay. “I haven’t touched your drink, it’s all yours. It was really nice to talk to you, Charlotte.”

Em walked away from the bar barely balancing the three glasses in her hands, dropping them down on the table in front of her two favourite men barely spilling a drop. Her favourite part about getting back was how their jaws dropped slightly. She was never the one who did those things. She was the introvert, the one who hated talking to people. Especially talking to strangers. But three gin and tonics and a margarita meant she wasn’t thinking about how uncomfortable it was to talk to people. All she was thinking about was Blake being happy, even if it was just for one night.

“What did you just do?” Blake asked, staring at her as if she was an alien and not one of his best friends and his adopted sister.

“You mean to say “thank you”, right Blakey?”

“Where’s my sweet baby girl and what have you done with her?” Dan joked, trying to keep it together and not burst out laughing at what his wife had done.

“What did you tell her?” Blake sounded frantic so Em took pity on him.

“That my very sweet, handsome bestie thinks she’s cute. And then I paid for her drink and told her to come say hi if she thinks you’re cute too. She’d just said no to that other guy and I saw her checking you out, so I think she’ll come over. You’re welcome in advance.” Em took a sip of her drink. “When you get married I get dibs on maid of honour duties and to be godmother for your first child.” She shrugged and scooted closer into Dan. It was the least her thing she had ever done, but she owed it to Blake.

“You’re never gonna drink again. Ever.” She wanted to laugh as she watched Blake blush even harder, but she didn’t want to make things worse. Instead she smiled and snuggled into Dan as he wrapped an arm around her. “Seriously. I’m never letting you drink again.

“And you’ve never seen her when she starts drinking rose. That’s when she really says the weird stuff.”

“Dan!”

“You know it’s true!”

“Weirdos,” Blake murmured under his breath and Em could see how he was beginning to regret not only coming up with the idea to go out that night, but for Em to start drinking again after a few months off alcohol.

“I might be a weirdo, but I’ll have you know Charlotte’s looking over here.” She could see how Charlotte was trying to act normal while looking at their table and checking out their friend. It was a small smile half hidden behind a glass that she was trying to finish for some extra courage. It was the table where hometown hero Daniel Ricciardo was sitting with his girl and his best friend.

“She told you her name and you weren’t even going to tell me? Seriously, Timmy?”

“Oops?”

“Sometimes you’re so annoy-shit she’s coming over.”

If Blake’s cheeks were read before, his entire face may as well have been an apple. Em couldn’t remember seeing him so nervous I’m all the years she’d known him. He was always the composed one, especially at work, so seeing him blushing like a school kid with his first crush was the most adorable thing in the world.

“Hey, Charlotte, you joined us!” Em welcomed her happily, gesturing to the free seat beside Blake when she saw her standing next to their table.

“Is that alright?”

“I invited you over for a reason, right?” She smiled and gave a wink to make the other woman feel welcome and able to relax, even if for a moment. “Introductions, this is my h-boyfriend, Dan. Ignore if he tries to impress you and be fancy.”

“Nice to meet you, don’t believe a word Em says about me.” Dan held his hand out to shake like the polite man he was.

“And this is my best friend, Blake Friend. Yes it’s his actual name, and yes I tell him regularly it’s ridiculous. Blakey, this is Charlotte.”

“Hi. Call me Charlie, Charlotte is for strangers or when my parents want to ask something. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey Charlie, it’s nice to meet you too.” Blake smiled and offered his hand for her to grab like Dan had, but it was nothing like when Dan introduced himself to Charlie. Em could nearly see the sparks. This was the night she’d met Dan for her best friend and this new girl, she knew it.

“I need some air. Come out with me, Love?” She whispered to Dan and grabbed his hand to give the other two some privacy.

“What’s that for?” He asked when they got to a dark corner across the bar.

“Give them some privacy.” She leaned against Dan and gave him a kiss, hoping that it was going as well as it looked for the two.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Instead of the hell plot of 2017, what storylines would you have liked to have seen for Aaron, Robert and robron?

I wish we'd seen Robert come to terms with his sexuality on screen tbh (more 2016 I guess). Writer Maxine said she'd wanted to write it too so I think we missed out. That, or for the Sugden brothers to actually work through their childhood trauma. They both deserved that.

Aaron...I'd have liked to have seen him a) get a dog and b) go to therapy properly instead of just when things are Really Bad. Especially after Gordon.

For robron I wish we'd seen them buy and renovate a house together (maybe Jacob's Fold at the time), as after the Gordon stuff it would have been a nice, gentle kind of bonding thing for them, building their first home together.

(we got a tiny bit of this with Mill but let's face it, it wasn't really robron's house, it was Liv and Aaron's). 🥰

The boys really needed more happy stuff tbf.

That last line is such a mood anon.

I would have liked them to actually elope and get married in Vegas - and I don't know if the UK recognises Vegas marriages (I know the Dutch government doesn't - or didn't at least) so they could still have the Big Dingle Village Wedding to make it legal.

and then definitely buying a house together and making it their home - Robert's name on the papers as well as Aaron's. Liv could have still lived with them but it would have been THEIR house - not Liv's. I liked the Mill - especially since Robert lived there with Jack when he was little (I think - I read that somewhere) and definitely a dog (or two).

Funny how you mention a dog - there was an interview with Danny in today's metro newsletter where he mentioned how Aaron has lost so much in life - including his dog.

and as much as I love Seb, no Incident with Rebecca. Surrogacy with her carrying the baby and agreeing to co-parent when it's born would have been acceptable, but robron deciding to have kids and going the surrogacy route themselves, at their own pace, would have been better.

Maybe some long lost Sugdens coming back to the village, or the farmhand Jack caught Robert with, or robron working together against something or someone. We got a tiny bit of that with the Joe Tate stuff but that was more Robert scheming and Aaron yelling at him for scheming.

Just anything but the prison/abuse/spice/fight/incident/break up hell plot!

[redrobin-detective]

Fionna and Cake ending Tweaked

I finally finished my F&C rewatch and I'm once more baffled by the amount of people saying it was boring or bad or "missed the point". While I do believe some parts could have been better to hammer the point home, I honestly think it ended exactly how it was supposed to with: Simon coming to grips with his past (needing to move on from Betty) and actually work towards his future and Fionna and Cake learning to be real instead of just pieces of fiction in others' minds.

Spoilers for ep 10 under the cut

That said, I would tighten up the ending slightly by removing the last bit with Scarab in Fionnaworld. His rampage should have ended when Fionnaworld was canonized and he's forced to return to HQ to reckon with his punishment. The whole bit of other worlds being dropped in by Prismo to save the day was not necessary but I'll get to that later.

It should have been the battle that ended swiftly and suddenly with the violence stopping but everything now feeling so much more present, the stakes higher and consequences real. They are now part of the multiverse, real beings separate from both Prismo and Simon - who previously controlled/influenced their environments and actions - and it's kind of scary to be suddenly totally responsible for your actions. This would be a metaphor for the series' growing up motiph of escaping the perfect dreamworld where nothing goes wrong and understanding that the real world is more complicated. Not bad, not evil just complicated.

Now we switch to Simon getting home, waking up in the field's of Ooo with a butterfly's kiss. He has a third chance and he is not wasting it. There really should have been some more wrap up with Simon and his found family, even just a montage: Simon holding a furiously crying Marcy's hands as he explains what he almost did, Simon and Finn out on a REGULAR camping trip, looking up at the stars and talking openly about their grief in a healthy way, Simon being in therapy (A+), Simon throwing himself into education and the preservation of the past in order to create a better future. It didn't need to be much, but a little more would have been nice.

Also the phonecall worked from GolBetty/Fionnaworld but texting hasn't worked since. Finally, both Simon and Fionna/Cake are still left feeling a bit unresolved over the whole thing when they are suddenly all blinked into Prismo's time room. Sorry for the delay, Prismo apologies, had to get the new guy oriented. He explains pointing to a pouting 2D Scarab. Simon/Fionna/Cake get the precious goodbye but also hello hug they deserved. Now that Fionnaworld is canonized, they can come and go freely. Simon asks tentatively if Fionna still wanted to come live in Ooo. Fionna and Cake - in mutual agreement! - say no they want to make their own world work. But they will certainly visit and they open Fionnaworld to anyone who needs somewhere new, somewhere where everybody knows your name. And THAT's how baby Finn, pep tank, Farmworld Finn kids, weird squirrel etc end up in Fionnaworld which becomes a blend of new and old, the ordinary and the magical. Its also addressing Fionna's earlier series selfishness and tunnel vision by helping those she hurt.

We end with Simon rushing off to work with textbooks and maps under his arm, coffee in one hand and a phone in another texting Fionna. Fi is working on the rebuild in her town and responding back as we flash to the dandelions then up to the stars where a red comet flashes across the sky. Betty has become something new, having shed her own past and she is happy. The End.

Basically TLDR the finale DID hit what it was supposed to but could've hit more on: Simon finding new purpose and making good with his Ooo friends. Fionna and Cake making up from their prev fight and understanding that they are real now and they should build up their own world instead of continuing to slot into others. As much as I love Betty and her crazy ass story, she had her agency at the end by telling Simon Ily but lets move on as she did the same. A sequel series about her would be interesting but in this series it would have fortified her choices and her actions

[bellysoupset]

Hey Soup~

Another day, another ask with comments from me 🙈

Back to the Leo vs his mother arc.

I love that Wendy didn't break her promise not to tell Jonah about what happened, but she still spoke to Bell then Bell did to Luke, so he could alert Jonah.

Poor Jon was so scared for Luke when he saw that he had 4 missed calls from him because Jonah is Luke's emergency contact. You always write their frenemy vibes so nicely, like, they are always at each others' throat but are the first to jump when something happens to the other. Then the twist of Bella receiving the call and telling him Luke is fine, but something happened to Leo. Jonah was scared to death for a second there, poor thing.

"He needs you home" Oh Luke couldn't have said anything else that would have made Jonah want to come back sooner. Especially when he got to know it was Leo's mom that happened.

Nevermind, I was wrong "Leo shouldn't be alone" was the real deal 🥺

Luke took the wheel and bought Jonah and Angie tickets to get them home asap. Thank God for him.

Jonah telling LukeBell that he wanted every single detail, even what kind of socks Leo is wearing. He was WORRIED worried.

Wendy was scared too. Leo even made a pinky promise not to jump. Oh God 💔

Leo needed JD to notice the knocking because he was spiraling so hard. Baby.

Bella immediately hugging Leo then Luke the both of them. They knew what to tell him exactly. "Jonah is coming and we are not going anywhere" and "it wasn't your fault she left" and even "we got you, we love you" 😭😭

He deserved to hear these so much, like SO MUCH.

Then Jonah arrived finally!! Luke gave him a hug and told him that Leo was alright just needed Jon. My heart. I love these two.

Angie was also really worried about Leo. I felt like she was a little more quiet compared to her usually exuberant personality.

I'm glad that the first thing Jonah heard when he entered their home was Leo's laughter. Yes, good job Bells!!

The scene with Leo and Jon greeting each other while Bella was trapped in the blanket under them was hilarious.

I also loved the details Jon made Leo shared.Wendy called Leo off work, "she said she was my doctor" lmao I love her. I'm glad Leo recognized that he needs more therapy sessions.

Leo telling Jon he was made to feel small by Amelia and Jonah replying to that by telling Leo that he is his whole world. Awww, my heart.

I'm not surprised Leo got sick after all that stress.

Jonah missed rubbing Leo's back while he threw up? That tells so much about him.

"You are comfy, but not as comfy as Luke" lmao never change, Leo. Even Jonah couldn't hold back that smile. Me neither though.

I'm curious what else is going to happen now that we have Amelia in town. Can't wait to see what you have in mind.

Hope you enjoy reading this nonsense. See you in other asks, Soup!!

- 💜

You can tell I'm sooo behind answering my inbox, i'm so sorry!!

Wendy jumped through hoops to not break her promise but have Jon there, I think it really shows her sneaky personality. This is a girl who'll Get What She Wants, in this case Leo not being in pain!

Jon is up for most stressful 24 hours a person can go through, with all the suspense and worrying about Luke then Leo.

I'm so happy the scenes fit together nicely, from Leo/Bella/Luke, to Jon/Leo's reunion with Bella trapped under them. It's always my goal to have my angsty scenes just feel... Mundane. I love writing drama, but I really feel like nothing drives it home so deeply than when its mixed with a bit of humor, a bit of tears, a bit of "shit I gotta go grocery shopping".

And yeah!! Having Amelia in town sets up for a lot of angst potential, but end of the day, this is their town and I'll not have her run Leo out of there. She can move if she wants, but this is the home he built, with the guy he loves and the family they made.

Thank you sooo much for commenting 💜!!

[everyscreentoobeseen]

This congruent to the Bad Parent Alfred Pennyworth Callout post

But this got me thinking of who in the batfamily would actually call Alfred out on his bs, because I know Bruce wouldn't even question the way Alfred raised him.

Dick Grayson was the first and most likely the (unwanted) most rambunctious granchild. Alfred would of thought Bruce was too young and too obsessed with Batman to actually handle a kid. He got "stuck" once with taking care of a kid so he damn sure wasn't going to let that happen again.

He would perform his butlery duties and always redirected Dick's questions or signs of affection back to Bruce. You wanted him, you deal with him. Once he knew he was a permanent addition to the household he would grow a little warmer to the tween but by the time Dick decides flys solo he would come to regret not taking on a more paternal role since he misses the young Grayson's presence. They only ever exchange pleasantry calls until Tim and Damian want their big brother over.

Jason is his chance to do things right. He is no longer just the butler, he is Jason's second parent. His disciplinary, his theater partner, his Grandpa Pennyworth. He lets Bruce leaves weeks on end to save the world since it gives him plenty of time to teach Jason the correct way to assemble and dissemble a semi automatic pistol. When Red Hood comes back, they have their secret cooking classes and tea times every week.

Tim cares only about saving Batman. Bruce Wayne's butler might make sure they both make it to see another day. But if Tim refused to see Bruce as a Dad there was no way he would let himself think of Alfred as a Grandfather. Eventually things change but Tim has a bad habit of trying to dig into his [REDACTED] past so it's best to keep the boy at arm's length.

Damian is a harsher more isolated version of Bruce. Alfred will be damned if he lets this child go down the exact same path as his predecessor. He might not be as intimidating as Damian's OTHER Grandfather but he can be warmer than Ra's.

Cass sees through everyone. She knows exactly what traits Bruce absorbed from Alfred. Most of them harmful. She knows how much Alfred's words cut Bruce when he's trying to hide it in a witty remark. She sees how Dick and Tim are more tense around Alfred than Jason and Damian. She knows when Alfred is forcing himself to try and engage with her, when his body language screams he dosent understand anything about how to approach her. He is Bruce's closest person and their bodies still act like strangers to eachother. He is nice, but his words don't match his emotions. Cass doesn't know how that can work.

TDLR/In Conclusion

In order of who is most likely to call out Alfred

Highest to Lowest

Dick (he likes to start fights)

Cass (she knows it still hurts the family)

Tim (He got hard evidence of the bs)

Damian (He would try and defend Al until Valid Points are brought up. It doesn't change the DW/AP relationship but it does explain some things)

Jason (Deny Deny Deny. That's his Grandpa. Grandpa can do no wrong. Bruce probably deserved it lol. Then he goes home and actually thinks about it. Alfred could have easily killed Joker by now if he wanted to.... He just didn't..... and he dosent have a no kill code...Ensue Jason not meeting Alfred for Tea anymore.)

If i was writing this, they'd all go to magic therapy and get over this hill and everyone would apologize but..... eh i don't mind perma angst.

[yomiurinikei]

tsurugi for the ask meme?

god the cws for this damn boy. uhh neglect and also i can’t see kinjomae as healthy w/what happens in the game and that’s discussed so. yeas

- My identity hc for them

gay little beast. he and kouhei had Something going on btw. anyways i also hc him as trans, it’s not one of those things i feel could actually fit into canon. but idgaf!! to me he is trans because i’m trans and so is my boyfriend (do u know him?) and every cool person is trans. tsurugi isn’t cool but i think he deserves a win once so he can have one in the form of getting to be trans!!!

- Thoughts on their home life/family

ogh. im using this bullet point as a chance to talk about stuff i’m not otherwise able to/which i don’t think i’ve shared? but like. agh…. how can anyone put into words literally anything about this little worms life. my hc for his mom is currently that she walked out when tsurugi was fairly young and isn’t interested in. any of it, so it’s just him and juu? so i think tsurugi started being left home alone Very Early, and going with his dad to work was like.. a nice treat away from being by himself for the majority of the day. which probably helped contribute to tsurugis entire identity and existence and everything revolving around his work as a police officer. aaaaaaa.

- How i feel about their canonical writing/handling

i don’t like what linuj did to him in sdra2 because amidst all the other controversies that arose with that game it really just felt lazy and like icky stereotypes. there was better ways to handle a tsurugi who had gotten worse/wasn’t doing well/etc past what happened in sdra2. i don’t like it and it doesn’t feel accurate to what should have happened if we were going to go the route of “tsurugi didn’t magically decide to go to therapy and heal”. i completely understand that people and especially fictional characters can get worse and have negative character development. but it’s the way in which tsurugi acted that felt lazy and ooc to me.

so anyways to retreat into the dark recesses of my brain. he’s so scrunkle… wet dish rag i am wringing all the water out of. i like him in dra i like the narrative role he plays i honestly think he’s v fun. i’ve waxed poetic before (not publicly i think? not about the thing i’m thinking of rn) about the tragedy of what happens to him and how u can read things as all being set up to screw boy over. but it’s just very interesting. i want to squeeze him so bad.

- The one thing i’d want to make canon about them

he and kouhei had frequent sleepovers at kouheis place. i don’t CARE if it doesn’t fit with tsurugis childhood i think kouheis parents were nice to him and cared about him. overall i just think all my thoughts on kouhei and tsurugi should be made canon. i should write a fic…

- My number one favorite ship for them

mmmm… right now it’s tsuhiko but all of the chatting about kouhei makes me wanna say tsuruhei. tbh i’m very versatile in who i ship tsurugi with i think he fits well with a lot of people (in non despair) and so long as there’s someone by his side i don’t really care who it is or if he holds hands with them or not.

- …Now everyone else i ship with them

mmm. kinji obviously, i still like teruya w/tsurugi in some aus, yamato but i’ll be honest i’m kinda weird about them. i think they’re separated. not divorced but separated. but also they’ve never dated they’re just besties. but also they have the most tender interactions. not to use this line but i think they should just have a weird very queer coded friendship where they both Know what the underlying vibe is and both choose to not broach the subject of how charged things are.

- The thing i will NEVER ship

tsurugi undeniably had feelings for yuki and while u can argue about how authentic yukis feelings were (ie were they just there to incentivize him to get closer so as to further damage tsurugi) it was definitely mutual. just again. how Real things were for yuki depends on how separate u view him from utsuro. uhhhhhhm. but just because feelings were there doesn’t mean it’d be good or healthy for them to date !. 

- a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)

on my hands and knees fucking begging u all for more kouhei. if i make a p2 of my kouhei hcs will that be enough propaganda. what do u all want from me. uhhh also if there’s one thing i miss from old sdra fandom days it’s tsurugi + kizuna worsties content.

- thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)

ah… i definitely prefer his dra color palette over his sdra2 one but that could be because something about his look in sdra2 just feels very off to me. that in mind i fucking hate his pants why are they that shade of blue linuj get off ur knees for that shade of blue. it’s too fucking bright it stands out so much. anyways i understand the uniform but i’d like to see him in like… maybe smthn professional/more formal, but not? the dress shirt and tie. 

- A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc

oh god oh fuck if i don’t find a good song this is going to be. so miserable for me and i will get cyber bullied again. uhhh. wires - the neighborhood bc lol make sure u tell him the right wire to cut tsurugi! don’t fuck it up lol! haha it can’t be that hard surely this is the same as all the other bomb diffusals right? right tsurugi? im the ceo of intentionally misinterpreting songs to fit my vision. mkay that’ll work. damn i need to listen to more music before i go do more ask memes

[razorfst]

Boxer Verse: Injury ( BELOW WILL HAVE INDIRECT SPOILERS FOR CREED 3 SO BEWARE IF YOU CARE )

Andrei normally keeps to himself, especially after how he grew up with just his dad. However, after his success at the Olympics with winning a gold medal for Romania and his rise in professional boxing, it was hard to continue to do that. Not that he was entirely upset about it at times. It was nice being invited to things, being able to promote his fights, being accepted. Over time he found himself being met with open arms into the boxing community, it is slow but it happens the more he wins and shows he belongs there. It comes to a peak after he wins his gold medal at the Olympics, the redemption he’d been looking for in his family name. There wasn’t anything he thought that could bring him down, shooting for the title belts soon after. Slowly, he was building up as a number one contender one belt at a time. And it was when his first title bout came that he found himself at a party a month before as part of a press stunt to hype up the fight. Little did he know that during all this time someone carried a rather large grudge against his father. Of course he knew there were people upset with Costin ever since he lost the gold medal match all those years ago, he just assumed they left it at that or acted like they were nothing as they so often did when he was growing up. However, someone took that a step further. 

Being left unattended after a few pictures with his opponent, everyone assumed he would be fine. His father opting to stay at home as events like these weren’t his type of thing. His possible voice of reason, the only one able to hold him back from making rash decisions that could backfire. It was then a man who had such a grudge against his father, losing all his money when he bet on that unfortunate fight, came into the party. Unaware of who he was, Andrei went about his business with a drink in hand before finishing it off and giving it to a waiter walking by as the man approached. At first it appeared to be a normal conversation, just someone who was a fan of boxing and kept up with his career. When the conversation seemed to run its course, he was turning to leave when the man spoke up again. “Are you going to choke like your father? A pathetic boxer he was, I don’t see how someone like that can train you to be better. Is that why you don’t have a mother? She saw that on the wall immediately after he lost? I can’t blame her for leaving, anyone would. You both deserve it.” Those words, they made Andrei freeze and his body tense. 

Without thinking once the last word left his lips, seeing nothing but red, he whipped around and hit the man with a left hook to the cheek. It made the man stumble back but it also gave him the distance he needed to take out a metal baton and flick it open out of Andrei’s sight. When he came towards him, planning on sending a flurry of combinations towards the man, it was then he hit Andrei with the baton. At first it was on his upper arm, making him wince in pain and momentarily let down his guard. The next thing he knew, the baton came swinging down on his head and sent him to the ground. Bracing himself on a nearby seat as the world swam around him, another swing came down on his right hand and he felt an intense pain shoot through it. Immediately he drew his hand into his body while the man was finally taken down by others. Soon after he was rushed to the hospital where it was discovered he had suffered a concussion and a broken right hand. It meant he would have to sit out six months to heal and do physical therapy before he could even fight again.

Just when things were looking up fully, nothing bad to look to, his goals were put on hold as he was once reminded who he was and where he came from. It was a time period that put him a bit into darkened mind set, almost like he was before the gold medal. The quiet, solemn man with the world against him, having nothing to lose. His one saving grace, the fact contracts were signed and the fight had to happen. It was agreed the bout would occur when Andrei was fully healthy again and the two boxers could have a proper fight.

[firecaptainphoenix]

Dear mom,

Tw: emotional distress Bradley Romero-Sawyer saw his husband sitting at their breakfast bar on one of the bar stools. Walking up behind him he was careful about wrapping his arms around his waist, Phoenix was a bit too jumpy at times and a bop to the stomach would not end well with the current occupant. Kissing his cheek, he glanced down at the counter seeing a piece of paper with the words 'Dear Mom' written on the top.

"You know it helps if you hold a pencil, it won't write itself," he teased.

Phoenix let out a huff of a sigh, "This is such a stupid assignment, it's not like she'll ever see it."

"It's not about her, it's about you. Your therapist said this would be good for you. Get all your feelings about her out in the open."

Phoenix turned pulling Bradley into his arms, he leaned his forehead against his shoulder. "What if I don't want them out?"

"Then tell your therapist you weren't able to do it. But both me and her think it'll help. It's been a month since she assigned it to you, you really sure there's nothing you want to say?"

Phoenix sighed, going quiet as he just kept leaning against Bradley. Therapy was harder than even firefighter training had been, he didn't want to sit and talk about his feelings. It was easier to stay quiet and just wait out when things got to be too much. As if sensing his distress he felt movement from Bradley's stomach against his own body. Glancing down he smiled fondly at the small bump that had been growing over the last few months.

"Remember who you're working on things for, I love you. But when you go quiet like this it's hard to tell what's going on. Little J isn't going to know why you get like that."

Sighing Phoenix nodded as he pulled back enough to look at his husband. They'd taken to calling the baby J unsure of what name they'd settle on eventually. But Bradley had said he liked J names so Little J was a nice place holder. He looked at Bradley seeing nothing but love and sympathy, it was still hard to believe anyone could look at him like that.

"I know...I'll try," he said softly.

Leaning forward Bradley kissed him deeply, "That's all I'm asking for, that's all we're both asking for." With that Bradley headed off to a different room leaving Phoenix once again alone to work on his letter. Sighing he picked up the pencil and just started writing.

Dear Mom Ma,

I'm suppose to write a letter to you. About how my childhood felt or what my relationship with you is. Least that's what the doctor Bradley found told me to do. I don't know what to say to you, you were a mother with way too many kids. Honestly you barely mothered, you were more like a general in charge of her army. You kept us fed, trained, and ready for anything. Maybe that's how you showed us love. Maybe to you that's love. I don't know.

I'm scared to be a father. When Bradley told me he was pregnant, I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I didn't feel excitement. I felt dread and anxiety. I was so scared that he'd look at me and say you aren't enough for us. The worst part is I can't even talk to you about this, all you said was 'You better not be a deadbeat. I didn't raise any of you to be deadbeats.' Thanks for that. Honestly I'm still scared, I didn't have a father, and I guess I didn't really have a mother either. So how the hell am I suppose to raise a kid better than you?

Maybe I won't, maybe I'll fuck it all up and one day they'll be sitting far away from home writing a letter to me that they won't send about how much I didn't cut it. I want to think that I'll do better, that I can be better but I don't know. Bradley keeps saying how important talking is to babies, that's never been my strong suit. It wasn't yours either.

Guess that's it then, I'll either fuck this up the way only a Romero can or turn it all around. Maybe this kid will be better than me, hard to imagine them being worse. Least they'll be half Bradley, he's good. Deserves better than me, but he believes in me. Says he believes in me enough for both of us. He's the reason our kid is even gonna be a Romero. Told him I was fine being the Sawyers but he insisted, said half of the kid is mine and he never wanted anyone to doubt that.

You're never gonna read this. I'll see you when we visit little while after the baby is born. I miss you. I love you.

-Phoenix Romero-Sawyer

[ayin-me-yesh]

Rambling about family and toxic shame (just wanting to get thoughts out of my head)

It's been 5 years since I stopped talking to my parents. Stopped talking is really the right way of putting it as I didn't so much cut them off over some affront as I lost my capacity to even try and respond. I couldn't even read their emails anymore. I'd have to have my partner read them and summarize them for me. Eventually I couldn't manage trying to put words together in response to those summaries either.

When I was a teen, my parents would completely and intentionally isolate me from peers and more supportive adults and my mom would threaten to throw me out of the house if I "cross-dressed" or cut my hair "too short." My dad also responded to my depression and school refusals by coming into my room in the morning, asking me if I was going to be responsible today, throwing me out of bed or kicking the entire mattress on to the floor, and then dumping water over me.

When I moved out, things didn't improve. When I shortened a visit home over a week-long school break to spend time with friends too, my dad retaliated by throwing my bag down the stairs and breaking a present I'd bought for a girlfriend. During a stay with them in 2015 when I'd dropped out of university, my dad dropped me off at work and as I was getting out of the car told me it must be nice being such a failure that nothing I do even matters anymore. He later told me he and my mom are the only people who will ever love me.

When I started avoiding interacting with them as often, they became increasingly hostile and demanding. By the time I cut them off in 2018, my mom was writing me emails every day and both my parents would harass me if I didn't respond within 24 hours. Basic attempts at setting boundaries were responded to with scorn and dismissal.

On some level I feel like my inability to talk to them anymore just makes sense. What is there even to say? What's the point in subjecting myself to their bullshit anymore? But in spite of that I still feel constant guilt. I feel like I'm bad, irredeemable, unforgivable, ungrateful, shameful, etc. etc. etc. Whenever family comes up with strangers in classrooms or workplaces or casual conversation, I feel like a monster masquerading as a person. When I think about names and identities as a trans person, I feel unworthy of any connection to my family history, to my ancestry, to myself.

It's so frustrating because I've tried going to therapy about this and it just made things worse. I've been told I must not value family. If I try emphasizing I'm not actually ok with how things are on an emotional level, I'm then encouraged to talk to my parents again and sort things out. I'm told my parents mean well.

It's also frustrating because I've lost everyone else in my life I knew growing up because everyone else back home also sees me as a monster. My dad sent me a message through a childhood friend using a nickname a physically abusive ex gave me based on my deadname after I'd asked him to not use that at least, to even just use my deadname itself if nothing else, shaming me for not talking to him, guilt-tripping me about his health, and then telling me he loved me. My friend cut me off when I had a meltdown and didn't want to respond to him because they also viewed me as just being cruel and uncaring.

This shit just eats at me constantly. I think about it dozens of times every day. Even when I'm doing better, even on anti-depressants, it's just a never ending intrusive thought. My sense that I no longer belong anywhere. That I'm not worthy of anyone. That I'm a terrible person. That I never even deserved to be born.

I know that's all internalized crap. I know that's not how I treat or view other people even when they HAVE done awful things. But it won't stop haunting me anyway. I feel like I'm carrying a dybbuk created from my parents resentment. It's an unbearable weight. It clings and grasps no matter how hard I try to get rid of it.

[tiredassmage]

1 & 2 for tyr!

Literally probably the most deserving and in-need of being rolled up into a pile of blankets like a burrito. Give him a raise. Assign him a nap. (Wholesome oc questions) Maybe it's not therapy, but, hey. xD

1 - What is there go-to comfort food?

Food questions are the bane of my picky-eater existence, lol, fun fact. (Additional bonus, don't take me out unless I can order chicken tenders lol). Anyway! I couldn't call him particularly culinary-inclined, but I think there remains much to be said for the gentle ritual of a slow-cooked stew. Possibly influenced by coming home from work tonight to the crockpot on the counter. Half of the almost ritually calming part of this endeavor would be having the time to make it himself, tbh. He's such a stubborn bastard to convince to take time off, but... it's nice. Once you convince him, you've won the real battle. The rest is just enjoy getting him out of his work for as long as possible, lol.

2 - Give them a warm drink of your choice, what would it be? Would their choice differ from yours?

Handing him hot chocolate. I'm not particularly into alcoholic beverages - one part effort, time, etc, into cocktails/mixed drinks and mostly just because I don't partake often enough to sink time and ingredient holding into the things I enjoy when I go out, so my offering is likely to just be the general classic. Those like. ones you melt down in your cup though with the chocolate and marshmallows are amazing and half the fun is melting and stirring yourself (bonus for starting with chocolate milk? I like my chocolate, okay), so that'd be my choice.

Tyr's more likely add a little extra kick if serving himself. Something like an Irish Coffee, maybe? Or just spiking the hot chocolate, tbh. Cutting alcohol though, I could also see him going for a warm cinnamon apple cider. That, we could both get behind.

There was this one local place when I lived in the northeast 'States that had BANGING cider and I MISS IT SO MUCH.

I can be wooed by things containing rum, it seems, if he's interested in luring me instead though, lol. That seems to be the common culprit in my mixed drink preferences.

We'll not speak of how many tabs these took me to answer lknaldsfndsalkfnlsdf. (I'm not counting them, you can't make me)

[corviddamn]

8.27.24 - 8:36am @home :: floating :: antsy

We have therapy soon, i don't know what to talk about anymore, I only know that I should. People can't help if I don't overexplain why i need help, right?

It should be mentioned that we're high, again. :/ It's near daily, multiple times a day now. Even in the middle of the afternoon. Before work, on break, while driving. It's frustrating because I wanted to slow down and just ended up smoking more often.

I'm going to put the flower up at least. Stick to the carts.

Found out our old blogs are still around. I no longer have access to the email (another one, rip) so I can't get into theirs either. It's a shame. It would have been nice to have a place to post some pictures. I suppose here will have to do.

I've been feeling so frustrated recently. I'm so ready to leave. I really hope I'll be able to by Feb. Please, God. don't let me be homeless without a car.

I need to try saving again. It sounds ridiculous with how little I make, but to try and hold on to at least $50 for non-food emergencies.

I've been going without eating more. I already eat very little and we hardly have food anyway, but I think I almost fainted yesterday.

I want to realign myself. I feel so discombobulated lately.

Okay. I'm going to get myself something to eat. Put the flowers away and try to clean my space a little. We both deserve it.