#i hope you guys like the ending!! i kind of agonized over it lol
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the third and final part of this little series! I hope y'all like this ending :)
(part 1) (part 2)
Eddie is already up when Steve wakes up the next morning.
Steve wakes to find his arm empty and opens his eyes to see Eddie’s side of the bed is vacant. Steve reaches a hand out to feel the sheet and it’s still warm. Eddie hasn’t been up for long then.
Steve turns to glance at the alarm clock behind him and sees that it’s just after seven. Steve knows that he has a shift at the video store at nine. He’s willing to be late for it if it means that he finally gets to have this talk with Eddie.
God, they’re finally going to talk about it. They’re going to talk about the break-up and Steve is finally going to get some answers to why he was so suddenly and unceremoniously dumped. Maybe he’ll finally get some closure.
Steve takes a deep bracing breath before sitting up and pulling himself out of bed. He rubs his eyes to get the sleep out of them and grabs his glasses from the other side of the bed and puts them on on his way out of the room.
As he shuffles down the small hallway to the kitchen Steve hears two quiet voices mumbling to each other. Wayne must be home from his shift, if the voices and smell of coffee brewing are anything to go off of.
Steve steps into the small kitchen area and sees that he was right, Wayne is standing by the counter with his brow furrowed at Eddie who is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. He looks better now than he did last night, but Steve cans till see deep bags under his eyes that indicate that Eddie hasn’t been sleeping well lately, if he’s even been sleeping at all.
“Hey, kid,” Wayne greets Steve when he sees him approach. Eddie doesn’t turn to look at him and Steve tries not to let it eat at him. “Surprised to see you here. Not unhappy ‘bout it, but surprised.” Wayne finishes and gives Eddie a pointed look which he even more pointedly ignores.
Steve nods, not really wanting to get involved in whatever silent argument is going on between Wayne and Eddie. “Nightmares.”
He hopes that will be enough of an explanation for Wayne and is relieved when Wayne just nods back at him.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Wayne tells them both, stepping towards the hall and clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he passes him. “It’s good to see you back here, Steve.”
Steve just gives him a small smile which Wayne returns before exiting the kitchen.
Steve goes to the counter and stands across from Eddie, leaning back onto the wood as he watches him. The silence in the kitchen stretches between them as they both wait for Wayne’s bedroom door to close before breaking it.
When the door shuts softly Eddie looks at Steve. Steve doesn’t like the look on his face as he starts to speak.
“I’m sorry I called you last night,” Eddie says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m not sorry,” Steve insists. “I’m glad you did. How long have you been dealing with this alone?”
Eddie’s lack of response is enough of an answer.
“Eds,” Steve doesn’t step forward to hold Eddie, but he wants to. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“You know why,” Eddie mumbles, clearly trying to keep his voice down so that Wayne won’t overhear them.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I do. Are we gonna talk about that now?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Eddie shrugs like it couldn’t matter less to him and it gives Steve whiplash. Where is this coming from? Eddie had been practically begging Steve to let him talk about it last night, and now he’s back to acting like he doesn’t care? What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” Steve asks, still keeping his voice down despite the loud thoughts swirling in his head. “You’re the one who was begging me to let you explain everything last night. What is this?”
“I changed my mind,” Eddie says, his face carefully neutral in way that makes Steve’s stomach churn. “I’m sorry you came out here for nothing.”
“Not for nothing,” Steve corrects him quickly. “I came out here last night to take care of you and I don’t regret any part of that. I just thought that we were also going to finally talk about it, I thought that you wanted to talk about it.”
“Well, I don’t,” The coffee machine beeps to indicate that it’s finished brewing, but they both ignore it. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I have nothing to say about it.”
“Can you just… Can you at least tell me why?” Steve feels like he’s begging and he doesn’t understand where the desire to talk about this that Eddie had last night has gone now. “Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Steve,” Eddie sounds apologetic but that’s not enough for Steve. He wants answers, he’s waited too long to have this conversation to walk away without them now.
“Then what was it, Eddie?” Steve pleads. “What went wrong? Why did you break up with me?”
“We never would have lasted,” Eddie says and Steve can tell that it sounds as lame to Eddie’s ears as it does to Steve’s.
“And why the fuck is that, exactly?” Steve is trying so hard not to be mean, but he’s slipping. He hates having to fight tooth and nail to drag a straight answer out of Eddie.
“You want kids, Steve, a family! And I…” Eddie swallows heavily and looks away from Steve, looking down at the socks on his feet. “I can’t give you that.”
And that finally gives Steve pause. Because, fuck.
Steve knows that he should have seen this coming. He had seen this coming, had noticed that whenever they talked about a future together and Steve mentioned kids, starting a family together, Eddie would go quiet. Not fully withdrawn, but enough so that Steve should have realized that Eddie wasn’t on the same page as him. Should have said something about it.
“You can’t or you don’t want to?” Steve asks quietly, not letting himself get upset yet. “Because there are plenty of ways for gay couples to have kids, Eddie. Do you not want kids with me?”
Eddie looks like he’s blinking away tears. “I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so sorry,” he starts and Steve closes his eyes because he can’t look at Eddie right now.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that four months ago?” Steve still hasn’t opened his eyes. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?”
“What was there to talk about, Steve?” Eddie sounds almost angry and Steve’s eyes open to take in the frustrated look on his face. “We want different things!”
“‘What was there to talk about?’” Steve echoes incredulously. “Eddie, when you’re in a relationship you talk to each other. That’s what you do. If you want different things then you talk to each other about it! Find a compromise! Together!” Steve knows his voice is rising in volume, but the chances of them keeping this conversation private from Wayne are already completely gone at this point anyway.
“There is no compromise here, Steve!” Eddie’s speaking louder now too. “You want a big family with a million kids and I don’t want to be a dad! There’s no getting around that!”
Steve wants to argue, but he can’t. He really can’t. Because Eddie is right.
There are very few things that Steve is certain he wants, is certain he loves. There are very few, but kids are at the top of his list.
Steve wants a family, has always wanted a family. A big one, preferably. When his kindergarten teacher had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up Steve always said that he wanted to be a dad, and that hasn’t changed. He can’t envision a long term future without having kids.
And Eddie didn’t want any.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Eddie?” Steve keeps coming back to that, to the fact that Eddie has never expressed his feelings about this with Steve. “You just broke up with me and wouldn’t tell me why. You ignored me for months, Eddie. You made this huge decision for me, for both of us, without telling me anything!”
“What other option was there, Steve?” They’re both shouting now and Steve can’t even spare a thought for being overheard at this point. “Stay together for however many more years and then have to split when you started talking about adoption? Would you rather have wasted years of your life with someone you weren’t going to spend the rest of your life with?”
“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie,” Steve grits out and he is fucking pissed. He’s pissed and he’s hurt and fuck, he’s crying now. “How fucking dare you say that? How dare you suggest that loving you could ever be a waste of my time? It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie. Not to me.”
“How can you even say that?” Eddie throws his hands up in exasperation. “Do you realize how you sound right now? You could be out there finding someone who can give you the family you want, who wants to give you that, but instead you’re here arguing that loving me isn’t a waste of time, when we both know that it absolutely fucking is!”
Oh.
There it is then.
Steve is quiet for a moment while it sinks in. Whether Eddie wants a family or not isn’t the heart of this issue at all, apparently. They could figure something out together if they really wanted to, could figure out a way to make their plans for the future work. No, the problem here is that Eddie doesn’t think he deserves a future with Steve.
“Eddie,” Steve isn’t shouting anymore. He’s staring at Eddie’s face, but Eddie has turned away again, pointedly looking anywhere but at Steve like he knows he’s been caught. “Eddie is that what this is really all about? You don’t think you deserve to be loved?”
“No, I really shouldn’t be a parent, Steve,” Eddie says. “I meant that.”
“But that’s not the only reason, is it?” Steve pushes, making a mental note to loop back around to that statement later (“shouldn’t”?).
Eddie’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Steve sees the silent tears running down his face as he doesn’t answer.
“Eddie,” Steve starts to take a step towards him, but Eddie puts a hand up to stop him and Steve freezes in place.
“Steve, please don’t do this,” Eddie pleads quietly, squeezing his eyes closed and several more tears fall down his cheeks. “Why can’t you just let this be a clean break?”
“It was never a clean break,” Steve answers. “You broke my fucking heart. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone and you decided that that was a mistake. You decided that for me and you broke my heart, and you think you can call that a clean break? That’s not a clean break, that’s being cruel.”
“It’s not cruel for me to want you to have a happy life,” Eddie protests but he still won’t look at Steve. “It’s not cruel to want to spare myself the heartbreak of you realizing a few years down the line that I’m not fucking worth it! I can’t go through that, Steve. I wouldn’t survive that.”
“Stop making so many fucking assumptions,” Steve just wants Eddie to look at him. “Why do you think that? That I would just stop loving you? I wish you would just talk to me about these things, Eds. Even if we have different plans for the future now, who’s to say that that can’t change? I love you enough to try to make things work with you, even if they don’t work out in the end. I love you enough to try, Eddie, and to keep trying. But you just assume that I’m going to get tired of you and leave you and instead of talking to me about it you just cut me out of your life completely.”
Eddie isn’t saying anything and he isn’t looking at Steve. Steve leans back on the counter and brings his hands up to cover his face. He can feel the frustrated tears welling in his eyes again. The silence stands between them like a physical wall and Steve’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now, not sure what else there is to do if Eddie won’t talk to him anymore, won’t even fucking look at him. He wants more thna anything to wrap his arms around Eddie and hold him close, but he knows he can’t do that. He sniffs and uses his hands to wipe away the tears that have escaped the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie breaks the silence, speaking barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just… Everyone leaves, Steve. Everyone. It was only a matter of time before you left too.”
“You don’t have to be alone, Eddie,” Steve says. “I can’t promise that we’ll last forever, but I promise you that I will never leave you alone. Even if we don’t manage to work it out, you will always have me. As a friend, as family, as whatever. You can’t get rid of me, Eddie, and I don’t want to leave. What do I need to do to make you believe me?”
Eddie is fully crying again and Steve gives in to the desire to hold him, closing the distance between them in two steps and scooping Eddie into his arms.
Eddie goes easily, his arms coming up to wrap around Steve as Steve holds him. They’re both crying now and neither of them seem to care about getting tears all over the other.
“I don’t know, Steve,” Eddie sobs quietly into the crook of Steve’s neck. “I don’t know.”
“Will you let me try?” Steve pleads, abandoning any reservations he might have still been holding. “Let me try to prove to you that I’m not leaving you without a fight?”
Eddie laughs wetly against him and Steve feels his heart fill with hope at the sound of it. It’s not a bitter laugh and it’s Steve’s favorite thing that he’s heard in the past four months.
“I think you’ve proven that you’re not going without a fight,” Eddie says. “But I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Steve, this problem isn’t going to go away just because we want it to.”
He pulls Eddie back in his arms so that he can look at him. “I know,” He says, because he does know, but he also knows that there’s more to it than Eddie is letting on, and he also knows that that’s something he’s willing to discuss and figure out together. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”
He kisses Eddie’s forehead, and moves back to look him the eyes again. “Promise me that we’ll figure it out together? Promise me that we’ll try?”
Eddie nods. “I promise to try.”
And Steve thinks that’s enough for now. Just enough to try again.
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#my writing#anya.txt#thanks ali for reading through this for me :)#i hope you guys like the ending!! i kind of agonized over it lol#i hope it is a satisfying end for you all !!
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CONGRATS ON 2130! What better way to celebrate you than asking for you to write a drabble of whatever YOU want! Something you have maybe thought about but it's not your norm? Love it. A character you love and just want more of? Love it. Little side quest in a current running fic? Love it. Just super happy for you and love everything you put out there for us to enjoy! 💕✨🎉
[a/n: omg thank you! I got so excited to see this 'free reign' request and then spent the next like 12 hours agonizing over what to write lol. I went with this absolutely not 500 word one-shot. Oops. It seemed fitting to me though b/c the first fanfic I ever wrote was one of those kind where the reader like 'magically' ends up in the media with knowledge that they're in their fav tv show/movie/game. So, writing a one-shot in that theme kind of felt perfect since we're also celebrating the number 213!]
Joel Miller x F!Reader; Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Warnings: canon violence, descriptions of creepy ass clickers, language, gun use, mentions of injury and blood
Word Count: 1.7k (again oops)
Summary: You just wanted to take a break from the job while hanging out with your favorite hunter, but you instead wind up in the last place you thought possible. Honestly, it was your own fault for thinking you could have a normal day.
As you watched Joel Miller get mauled by a cordyceps clicker on the television screen you let out a laugh. In response, Dean barked out a curse. The eldest Winchester brother had been playing this game for the last day and a half. Though the phrase attempting to play might be more accurate. You snickered again. “Dean, I’ve seen you mow down an entire coven of vampires alone with only a hunting knife, but you can’t shoot a few infected?”
“This is different.” Dean replied firmly. He pointed at the screen accusingly. “Put one of those fuckers in front of me right now and I’ll take it down.” He picked up his beer bottle to take a swig. Then he motioned to you with the bottle. “With my eyes closed.”
“Yeah, okay, tough guy.”
“I’m serious!”
You laughed again and pulled your legs up under you. The Winchester brothers and you were stuck in the Men of Letters bunker for the last week. Sam was in the library, trying to find any kind of hunt to go on, and for the sake of Dean’s sanity you hoped he found one soon. You sunk into your seat with a grin. “Come on. Try again. I love watching you lose.”
“Maybe you should give it a try then, sweetheart.” Dean replied and offered you the controller.
You briefly bit your lower lip at the pet name. It was no secret that you were head over the heels for Dean⏤ well, to everyone but Dean. He seemed pretty oblivious to the fact that you’ve been carrying a torch for him since the moment you met him three years ago on a hunt.
“I would, but I’d hate to embarrass you like that, Dean.”
The man rolled his eyes before restarting the level from the top. You watched Dean play, smiling to yourself at his overly exaggerated expressions every time something went wrong or went right. Gradually, your eyes began to droop shut, heavy with exhaustion, and you fell asleep listening to Dean’s voice�� the sound familiar and comforting.
The sound of clicking hadn’t necessarily woken you up, it was probably the freezing air that did that, but it was the first noise that registered in your sleep-addled brain. With a quiet moan, you forced your eyes open and the sight of a busted ceiling greeted you. The wood was aged and a gaping hole allowed you to see the blue sky as morning light and flakes of snow streamed through it. It took one second for your brain to comprehend that you were not in the bunker with the Winchesters and one additional second for the hunter in you to grasp the wheel.
You sat up with a gasp. The space surrounding you resembled an abandoned storage room at the back of a larger structure. Broken and empty shelves lined the walls and you were lying on top of a disgusting, aged mattress. With steady motions, you rose to stand. A chill shot down your spine and you shivered. The pajamas you wore were not conducive to this new weather⏤ weather that also did not make sense. It was summer time in Kansas right now. Why the fuck was it snowing?
There was no sign of Dean or Sam that you could see. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat as your stomach stirred with a foreboding sense of doom. Something was very, very wrong. Knowing that standing here confused wasn’t going to help anything, you searched the room for something of use. There were no articles of clothing you could scrounge up which meant you were stuck with pajamas and bare feet. The cold was beginning to grow painful as your extremities ached.
Only one door led out of the room, but experience told you that walking out without some kind of weapon was a mistake. Again, your options were sparse. You hadn’t expected to get lucky and find a handgun on the shelf, but a knife would be nice and not asking the universe for much in your opinion. However, you had never been the lucky kind. With a grumble, you found a few broken pipes and picked out one with the sharpest end. The metal was biting cold in your hand, but it brought some semblance of control and comfort to your anxiety riddled mind.
Seriously, what the fuck was going on?
You carefully cracked the door open to peek out into a dimly lit room. It looked like some kind of convenience store, but just like the room you had woken in it was in shambles. Bits of the ceiling and wall were broken to allow in light. You pulled the door open wider and a vaguely familiar clicking noise drifted to you once more. Where was that coming from? It had been there when you woke, though quieter, and why did you kind of recognize it?
A soft hiss made you glance to your right and your eyes widened when you spotted a young girl hiding behind half the counter. She had to be no older than thirteen or fourteen and her messy light brown hair was pulled back and half hidden under a winter cap. She glared at you in alarm, clutching a knife in her gloved hands, and mouthed words to you. She had to do it twice before you recognized the words, ‘What the fuck are you doing?!’ It was followed by something that looked suspiciously like the words, ‘fucking idiot’. Had this small, angry child just called you a fucking idiot?
More clicking.
Your gaze lifted and your eyes landed on a new sight that filled you with dread. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight, but it was certainly one that shouldn’t exist. A clicker. It stumbled in its inhuman gait. Shoulders and arms moving in twitching motions as its head snapped back and forth searching. Whatever face the body used to have was replaced with rows of growing, eerie fungus that fanned out in what looked like two rolling curves⏤ as if it were a wave that surged then splashed right out of the skull itself in frozen motion.
The small gasp that left your lips was an obvious mistake that your hunter side was kicking you for. Its head and body snapped to face you and with a screech it roared forward. Instinct took a hold of your body, and you swung the pipe out, rather than freezing in alarm, and the clicker fell back.
“Run! Go!” You screamed and motioned for the kid to get the hell out of there. She began to scramble away, but you stayed planted to handle the clicker that was already back to its feet and rushing you once more. You ducked under and sprinted in the opposite direction of the kid while making as much noise as you could. As impossible and odd as this was, you had no problem falling into your hunting pattern. It was second nature to you. There was a monster and a civilian who needed to be saved. Your choice was easy.
Your right foot stepped on something that made you hiss out in pain and stumble. That gave the clicker enough time to slam into you and send you to the floor. With gritted teeth, you rolled before it could pin you and you swung the pipe once again, knocking it back a few steps. It recovered quickly and lunged forward, but you held the pipe up firm and met it halfway so the sharpened end of the pipe drove right through the center of its face⏤ or lack thereof. You were gasping for air as its arms went limp and with a singular grunt you used the pipe to shove it off to the side so it slumped to the ground with your weapon still buried in its skull.
Your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest as you tried to catch your breath. The adrenaline and panic made the cold barely noticeable. Your eyes glanced down though to see blood pooling around your right foot. Wincing, you lifted it to see a large shard of glass shoved deep into the tissue there. That was disturbing evidence this was not some kind of fucked up dream.
“Fuck.” You muttered. The sentiment was interrupted by a howling screech. You spun in place to see a different clicker, just as grotesque and real as the first, lunging at you from behind. Your hands raised in defense as a gun was fired. The clicker’s head exploded in a spray of rotting tissue and clumps of fungus before collapsing a few feet in front of you. When you lifted your gaze, you spotted an older man equipped with a rifle that was now leveled at your own head as his eyebrows furrowed in an emotion that reminded you a lot of rage. At his side, one hand wrapped around his bicep was the girl from earlier.
It took you a second to comprehend the image in front of you. The clickers. The young mouthy girl. The older angry man. This could not be possibly happening to you right now. “Hands up. Now.” The man grunted in a southern accent. He didn’t look quite like he did in the video game you watched Dean play for the last day and a half, but there was no denying who this had to be. Slowly, you lifted your hands with a grimace. “If you got any weapons, drop ‘em now.”
“Weapons?” The girl scoffed. “She’s in fucking PJs, Joel, where do you think she’s hiding a weapon?”
He hushed her in response and motioned for her to take a step behind him. Great. You had survived the apocalypse twice with the Winchesters, quite the feat considering the people who traveled with the boys had a bad habit of dying bloody, but this was how you were going to meet your end. Shot by a video game character. This was some kind of fucked up karma for laughing while watching Dean get his character mauled over and over.
“Hi there.” You blurted with a sheepish smile and Joel stiffened. “I mean you guys no harm, so if you wanna lower the rifle⏤”
“What’re you doing here?” Joel demanded. The rifle did not lower an inch.
“Right.” You muttered then blew out a breath of hot air. “Uh, funny story.”
Joel did not look eager to hear said funny story and you had a bad feeling that once you explained what was happening to him he’d find the entire scenario even less amusing. Fuck.
#tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#joel miller#supernatural#dean winchester#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader insert#reader insert#female reader#2130 celebration!
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I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!
𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2
character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader
a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently.
𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!
summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.
genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end
warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol, second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(
word count: 2507
pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things.
- - -
read part one here my loves !!
you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all.
part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever.
at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds.
at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?”
your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?”
he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated.
“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding.
“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.”
“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.”
“do you want to go back to the dorms?”
you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.”
midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up.
“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—”
“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance.
you gulped. “yeah, there’s—”
“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”
your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough.
-
the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears.
each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him?
it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue.
you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him.
you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name.
“y/n?”
you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?”
“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?”
your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.”
“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise.
yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?”
you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.”
-
it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it.
you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out.
most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it.
surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together.
unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side.
in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.)
you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three.
“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned.
your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.”
“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.”
you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.”
you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him.
“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away.
“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles.
you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.”
he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight.
“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume.
midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—”
“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.”
“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself.
“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked.
“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another.
you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen.
a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground.
izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”
you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.”
you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.”
“bu—”
“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.”
midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand.
attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting.
cement flew into the air.
that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots.
in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder.
bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest.
you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya.
while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park.
you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question.
twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement.
it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost.
your head whipped around to see him charging for you.
your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore.
bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right?
when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain.
bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions.
he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering.
it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up.
“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling.
“y/n! are you alright?”
you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”
“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.”
“do you need—”
you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst.
although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg.
you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.
you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly.
there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away.
she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?”
you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.”
the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down.
she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?”
you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.”
“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.”
“mhm,” you agreed.
“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.”
you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you.
when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?”
“yes, thank you recovery girl.”
she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.
your eyes fluttered shut not long after that.
-
the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off.
“good, you’re awake.”
you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!”
bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage.
“what...what do you want?”
even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.”
your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.”
“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.”
heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-”
“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.”
“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused.
“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone.
“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.”
“the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?”
bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.”
you gulped.
“so what’re you saying?”
“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.”
“say it again.”
“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours.
“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.”
it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out.
“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.”
he grinned. “where to?”
#boku no hero bakugou#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou angst#bakugou katsuki#bnha#mha#yn#deku#fanfiction#fanfic#mina ashido#kaminari#denki kaminari#denki#izuku midoriya
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I’m Still Hurting (Orc x Reader) Part 2
Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2107 words
Summary: You and your boyfriend establish a new normal
A/N: At long last, the highly requested part two! I had a bit of struggle coming up with a proper followup to the first part (which was part of why I left it with an open-ended ending in the first place lol). Little less angst this time, I felt these two deserved a little sweetness after the last chapter. Hope y'all enjoy!
Part 1
The first thing that caught your eye when you walked by the music store was the Grand Piano. It was gorgeous: Polished mahogany, a nice velvet seat, and keys that looked like they had never seen the sticky fingers of a curious 8 year old.
“Wow, is that new?”
You nod, admiring the old-fashioned air of the instrument. You knew jack shit about music, but even you could tell that this piano was an antique, one probably worth a good chunk of change.
“Must be. I’ve never seen it before and this place is on my way to work.”
Waruck hmms, pressing his hands up against the glass. His eyes sparkle when he sees the “Free to Play” sign right next to the piano. It probably reminds him of his Grandpa’s, the one he played when you guys visited his family for Christmas.
That was a long time ago.
“Want to go in?”
Waruck pulls away from the glass, eyebrows raised. He rubs the back of his neck and steps a couple feet back, trying to curb his enthusiasm.
“Uh, we don’t have to-”
“I don’t mind. It's been a while-” You pause, the slight-anxiety in the air making every casual word difficult, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play.”
Waruck smiles, small and polite, and opens the door of the shop for you. Before, he might have done a little bow and said “Ladies First” in a British accent.
But that was before, and this is now. Now, every comment is walking on eggshells, whispered tentatively and under your breath. Testing the waters for how comfortable you two could get around each other.
Still, it was exponential growth from two months ago.
--------
After your meeting at the coffee shop, you had asked Waruck for a month; A month of privacy, for you to collect your thoughts and feelings, to be alone for a bit. He had agreed immediately, shuffling out of the cafe with a hunched back and a melancholy air, but he had kept his promise. You took the time to focus on other things, shifting your relationship to the back of your mind and enjoying the day-to-day.
But a part of you felt a little bad, like maybe you were stringing Waruck along for an inevitable breakup. Getting his hopes up for an extra tortuous punishment that left a sour taste in your mouth. So on one brave Saturday night, you sent him a meme you saw on Instagram, one that reminded you of him.
That second month saw the two of you texting more and more frequently, sending little jokes, asking how your day was, so and so. Each week rebuilt a little bit more of that familiarity, that comfortableness. It finally got to the point where Waruck asked if you were free one weekend. He just wanted to get some lunch and stroll around the neighborhood for a bit. For the first time in a while, that idea didn’t seem too bad.
--------
The air is considerably cooler inside the store, a tiny bell ringing as a rush of air-conditioned air hits both of you. Waruck makes a beeline for the piano, his footsteps short and quick. You feel a smile crawl on your face; He always acted like an excited kid when it came to music.
Waruck plops down in the center of the stool, fingers lightly brushing over the keys in awe. You walk up the piano’s side, laying your hand on the wood and admiring the lack of smudge marks on the polished wood. Waruck tests out a G note and although the sound is short, it’s extremely pleasant. Waruck’s smile grows even larger.
“When I was a young boy…”
You mutter under your breath. Waruck chuckles, quickly continuing onto a G flat.
“My father took me into the city,” Waruck hums
“To see a marching band.” The two of you sing together, laughing a little bit too loudly and gaining a sharp look from the tired sales clerk. Waruck waves a little apology, but that playful grin stays on his face.
“Wow, that brings back some repressed Hot Topic memories.”
“Seriously. I can almost feel the book my band teacher used to thwack me with. Me and my buddies would sneak into the choir room and play that all the time.” Waruck’s fingers dance over a couple more notes, aimless.
You’ve always liked watching Waruck play. His fingers were so dextrous and controlled, not to mention long and nicely articulated. He’d probably make good money from a hand-model side-gig.
“Want to take a seat?”
You shift your focus away from Waruck’s hands. He’s made space on the bench and pats the open space next to him.
“Yeah, sure.” You say, despite the fast pace your heart is now beating.
You keep a solid two inches of distance between your bodies, keeping your thighs together as to not brush your legs with his. It felt like a middle school dance, keeping a bible length away from your partner to avoid the disapproving stare of the chaperones.
Waruck nods, absentmindedly running his fingers up the scale. “Any requests?”
Immediately, all non-love songs depart from your brain. One of your favorite pieces sits on the tip of your tongue and your brain refuses to let it go. You shake your head.
“Nope. It’s all yours, music man.”
Waruck chuckles, a little louder and a lot more comfortable, as he sits deeper in his seat.
“Prepare,” Waruck cracks his knuckles, “to be amazed.”
You bite back a laugh. He’s still such a dork.
He starts to play, his hands easily finding the right keys, moving like a well-oiled machine. Your heart nearly skips a beat before it melts into a puddle of sentiment.
It’s your favorite.
The song brings back memories of your childhood, a rainy day in, and delicious food. It’s like chicken soup for the soul and you can feel any of the left over tension leave your body.
Waruck’s eyebrows furrow with concentration, but he has a large smile on his face, his large tusks peeking out from his lips. His arm stretches across the piano as the song hits its most fast-paced part. His biceps and shoulders lean more into your space, but the feeling isn’t unwelcome. It feels natural, as if his presence and yours is part of the piece itself.
Waruck’s thigh brushes against yours, but his pace doesn’t falter and neither does yours. You stay enraptured, watching how easily he slips into the music. You barely even notice how you have begun to lean closer to his side; Your mind says it’s to give his arms plenty of space to play, but it’s still far more comfortable than you are willing to admit.
How easy it feels, in the moment, to fall back into routine.
The song begins slowing to a stop, only a couple seconds left, when the sounds of the music shop return to you. A giggle from not too far rings discordant with Waruck’s piano.
Three girls stand not too far from you, watching with fascination as Waruck plays.
“Wow, he is so good!” One whispers to her friends.
There is nothing even remotely lascivious in their eyes or in their words, but a knife still twists in your gut. Your throat constricts as flashes of your bedroom, of unanswered texts, and a picture of a bar corner booth send needles down your spine and into your heart.
Is this wrong? Is this giddy feeling you have only distracting you from reality? Is it like this song, Waruck’s playing, beautiful but temporary?
“Ugh, I want what they have.”
“I know, right? How romantic.”
They’re wrong, you’re wrong, this is wrong; It’s fake, fake, fa-
Your eyes dart to and fro, trying to desperately avoid Waruck’s quickly overwhelming body heat and your audience, before it catches on the distorted shape of your reflection in the window.
The glass is old, slightly drooping, even the golden lettering of the music shop’s name looks dusty and sun-bleached.
But what is unmistakable is you and Waruck. Waruck, playing piano, and looking at you. Looking at you with the love in his eyes you thought had died, or had never been there at all. The group of girls stands in the background, small and out of focus.
And Waruck is staring at you.
“Are you okay?” Waruck asks, his warm hand on your shoulder.
You whip your neck around, almost getting whiplash.
You’re here, in the music store, with your boyfriend. He looks at you, brow slightly puzzled from your wild eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, I,” You suck in a deep breath, “Sorry, I guess I got lost in my own head. That song gets me kind of nostalgic.”
Waruck pats your shoulder and you miss it’s heat when he pulls it back to his side. He smiles, but you can tell he is still slightly worried.
“No problem, I get it.”
You notice now how much closer Waruck is to you. His chest has shifted towards yours, the fabric of his shirt sleeve pressing against the skin of your bicep. Waruck’s knee absentmindedly knocks into yours, but the contact doesn’t sting or jolt you. Not even the continuing silence makes the situation awkward.
It’s nice.
“Do you want to check out the record aisle? They might actually have that piece on vinyl.”
Waruck gestures with his thumb to the piles of CD’s and records not too far from you two. You nod
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
--------
The two of you spend about an hour in the music store, pointing out hilarious cover art and admiring some vintage finds. Waruck even gets you to chuckle a couple of times, slowly bringing out his old cheesy puns.
Waruck’s missed this.
You two walk out of the music store at the tail end of one of Waruck’s jokes, you playfully punching his shoulder.
The two of you wander, in the opposite direction of your cars, for a little while. But Waruck hasn’t lost track of time; No, he’s soaking in every moment he can, every smile and lingering look you give him. Every reminder that this is real.
He spent a week agonizing over what he did. Stuck in silence as he gave you your space. His friends (His real friends, not those assholes from the bar) had offered to come by and keep him company, but he turned it down.
When Waruck got back into routine, it was slow-rolling. It was difficult to fight the instinct to check his phone for a good-morning text, or check your Instagram for any ‘post-breakup’ partying.
No, he had already broken your trust once. The least he could do was give you some time. Spend some hour not wallowing in self-pity, but actively make a change.
Waruck began to accept those invites to a chill hang out, playing some poker and sipping on beer with the gang. He played his keyboard when the thoughts got too loud and went jogging when the music wasn’t loud enough. He called his mom a couple of times, even sent his sister a couple of texts to catch up. They hadn’t spoken outside of holidays for almost three years.
Maybe he was the one that needed time.
God, why did you have to be so smart?
“Oh shit, how long have we been walking?” You mutter, checking your watch for the time. Waruck turns around you, already knowing the answer was 27 minutes, exactly. The both of you were nearing the edge of the neighborhood, cafes and shops turning into residential suburbs. “Dang, time really flies, huh?”
Waruck smiles.
“With you? It always does.”
You give him a half smile, patting his bicep. “Oh my god, you’re such a cheeseball.”
Waruck winks and shoots you some finger guns.
“You know it babe.”
You giggle, checking your watch once more, face turning just a little bit.
“I should probably head back, I’m getting dinner with some friends tonight.”
A small part of Waruck yearns for more time, but he lets it go.
Space, this was about establishing space.
“I had a lot of fun today, Waruck.” You step a little closer, Waruck’s heart skips a beat.
“Me too.” He whispers, his breath catching as your fingers brush against his.
It’s a simple gesture, one you’ve down a million times. But when your palm slips into his, your finger’s interlocking, it’s like fireworks have gone off.
“Same time, next week?”
Waruck nods, not trusting himself to speak without a voice crack.
That’s all he needed, all you wanted; The promise of the future.
“Yes, I would love that.”
#my writing#orc x reader#reader insert#female reader insert#orc/human#monster/human#monster x reader#monster/reader#angst#orc
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I had a dream last night that I had an unrequited crush on Shikamaru since forever but he and Temari had started dating.
(In the dream I had me and Shiki we’re walking and joking then Temari came over and then they went for dinner together. As Shikamaru’s friend I was like -arm punch- go on bro, have fun. And they walked away together leaving me feeling heartbroken, inadequate and inferior.)
You can do any scenario you want. I literally have an unrequited love playlist lol 😂❤️
oh anon, i've been there 😭 let us wallow in our unrequited love for Shikamaru together
~ Almost enough ~
(Shikamaru x fem!reader) angst // 1.7k words
Ten years. An entire decade with Shikamaru by your side, getting into the carefree mischief that defined such childhood friendships and growing so close people were surprised to see one of you without the other. More than half of it spent trying to ignore the butterflies and daydreams that would force you to admit you wanted him to be more. In hindsight it seemed inevitable, the way he’d snuck into your heart before you could even notice. With his striking intelligence and those penetrating eyes, the way he so readily discarded his lazy demeanor and replaced it with hardened determination when his friends needed him — how could you not love him?
You accepted it too late though, spent too many months agonizing over how to tell your best friend that you were head over heels for him, and by the time you were finally brave enough to take the plunge and make your confession he had one of his own. That day was cemented in your mind now, a stinging reminder of your own inaction. Against your better judgement you drifted back into the memory...
It was beautiful out, the warm air offset by a gentle breeze that carried the spring blossoms through the wind as he sat across the shogi board from you, his sharp brow furrowed in concentration as he analyzed the pieces to determine his next move. One of the petals caught in his dark hair and your hand moved to brush it away, but before you could he sat back with a sigh, “Do you wanna do something else? I’m not really into the game.”
“Why? Because I’m winning?” you teased.
He rolled his eyes and cracked a small grin. “You’re only winning because I’m not giving it my all,” he objected.
“Sure, sure,” you threw a light punch at his shoulder and you both laughed. He looked so pretty when he laughed. Not the snarky chuckle he used so often in public, but this unapologetically cheerful one accompanied by a toothy smile that was so carefree and genuine it transformed his serious face into something softer, more innocent. The words never seemed easier to say than it that moment, and without your permission they slipped through your lips as the laughter died out.
“I love you.”
He didn’t even skip a beat, returning your confession with an eye roll and a gentle shove. “Shut up dude, I love you too. You’re my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Your heart sunk a bit at his misinterpretation and you parted your lips to explain that yes, he’s your best friend too but he’s also so much more, but before you could he went on, “Speaking of love, I wanted to ask for some advice... about Temari.”
His eyes darted to his hands and a soft blush crept across his cheeks. You’d have thought he punched you in the stomach, not timidly asked for your help by the way your body tensed at his words. You didn’t know disappointment could feel so tangible until that moment, the way your stomach dropped to your feet and your hands went cold. “Temari?” you questioned, clearing your throat to rid it of the lump that had formed, “you love her?”
He jolted up and the red in his cheeks deepened. “Nono of course not!” he stammered, “I just… I like her a lot and like, you’re a girl right? How do I win her over?”
For the first time in your life you regretted being so close to him. Couldn’t he have gone to literally anyone else for help with this? Why did it have to be you? To him you were the only one he could approach about such an important topic. It wasn’t just because you were a girl that he asked, but because he valued your opinion above anyone else's. It was because even if it wasn’t the way you wanted, he wasn’t lying when he said he loved you too. So you pushed it all aside — all the heartbreak and sadness that threatened to overwhelm you — you buried it deep down inside for the sake of your friend, looking so nervous and vulnerable as he sat in front of you and put on a fake smile as you did your best to be what he needed in that moment.
“Well you’re a catch so it should be easy, but if you really want to impress her you should…”
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Shikamaru waved his hand in front of your eyes, pulling you out of your recollection and back to the present where you walked easily beside him through the streets, no real destination in mind.
You blinked a few times to reorient yourself and apologized with what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted today.”
He snickered, “Who has their head in the clouds now, huh?”
“You’ve been a bad influence on me,” you retorted with a smirk and he laughed.
“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “Hey, do you remember when we were kids and we would skip class to go cloud watching?”
He wore a thoughtful smile as he posed the question, his eyes lost in a content nostalgia. God, why did he have to look so damn perfect when he smiled?
You cleared your head and scoffed, “Of course. I still get grief from my mother about all the absence notes Iruka sensei sent home.”
He snorted, “You actually gave her those?! I always ripped mine up before she could see them,” his sentence trailed off into a laugh, one of those real ones that you lived for the sound of and you joined him, forgetting momentarily about your unrequited feelings.
But of course the moment ended much too soon. You noticed her at the same time he did, and you were glad the Nara man’s intense gaze was so singularly focused on the blonde woman ahead that he wouldn’t notice the way your face fell as your laughter cut off abruptly. She waved excitedly from her position a few blocks down and rushed towards you guys, her short pigtails bouncing behind her as she ran.
“Hey you guys!” she greeted the two of you excitedly as she arrived, giving Shikamaru a quick peck on the cheek, causing a small wince you hoped went unnoticed. “Ready for our date?”
“Shit! I almost forgot,” he palmed his forehead and turned to you apologetically, “we’re supposed to get dinner tonight, we have a reservation and everything. Sorry to leave you like this but we’ve gotta go.”
“No worries!” you flashed them a bright smile, one that was uncharacteristically wide in an attempt to compensate for your disappointment. “Go on and take your girl out. Have fun.”
You shoved him towards her lightly and Temari smiled, “Yeah! Listen to (y/n), she’s got the right idea.”
He looked at her the way you’d dreamed he would look at you and laced his fingers through hers, moving to lead her away in the direction of the restaurant. He looked over his shoulder and called back, “See ya tomorrow!” They both waved before turning back ahead, swaying gently as they matched each other’s steps.
“See ya…” you whispered to yourself, their shared giggles echoing off the buildings as they turned the corner and disappeared from your sight.
Nowhere else to go and not wanting to return to your empty apartment you turned to continue walking the sandy streets of the village and ponder. After a while you found yourself at a small pond, where you sat at the edge and peered into the calm water that reflected the crescent of the rising moon in it’s glossy reflection.
What was it about her? Why her and not you? Maybe it’s because she’s so beautiful, you thought forlornly as you traced the lines of your own plain features in the watery mirror below. You hit your hand over the surface to disturb the picture of yourself, water splashing back and mixing with tears that had started to fall on your cheeks.
That wasn’t it and you knew it. Shikamaru wasn’t that shallow. If he was this might be easier. He was with her and not you because she was perfect for him. Even you could admit that in spite of your own feelings she was his ideal match. He just lit up around her in a way that he never did when you were together, and as painful as that was there was an unselfish part of you that appreciated her for it.
You’d spent a lot of time trying to hate her. Trying to find a reason, any reason that they shouldn’t be together to justify telling him your truth and ruining it all — but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Underneath the hard exterior she really was kind, extremely so. She was more perceptive about matters of the heart than he was, and you suspected she knew of your true feelings for her boyfriend… but she never once made you feel bad about it or told him. Not that she needed to try to make you feel guilty, the feeling overwhelmed you everytime they were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you.
The small part that was left of you still concerned with self-preservation told you to cut them both off. To just stop answering his calls and disappear from their lives before you could slip up and lean in for the kiss you imagined millions of times. But he was addicting. No one else made you feel so at ease, made you laugh so joyfully except him. So you’d wade through the guilt and the knowledge that you were only hurting yourself just to spend a few minutes with him whenever you could, even if it meant watching him fall in love with someone else. Being his friend was enough. Almost.
#shikamaru nara#shikamaru x reader#shikamaru x y/n#shikamaru angst#shikamaru oneshot#shikamaru fanfiction#shikamaru imagine#nara shikamaru#naruto imagines#naruto x reader#naruto oneshot
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hi y’all<3 here’s a new section of the gallavich as seen from alternate POVs fic, this time featuring lip!!!! (i wanted to wait til after the ✨lickey drama✨ in the new ep before posting, but then i decided against it bc i didn’t want to re-write this lol)
i started to have way too many feelings while writing this so it’s a little lengthy and contemplative, but rest assured it features some domestic fluff/ian and mickey being disgustingly in love- i hope u enjoy<3
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Lip shuffled into the kitchen of the Gallagher house, opening the fridge door and reaching past the clanging beer bottles to grab a metal soda can on the way back of the shelf, hearing a faint fizz escape as he popped the tab. It was late, the moonlight streaming in across the kitchen through the worn curtains and pooling on the kitchen floor— after Tami had crashed in their bed at the apartment after a long day at work and Freddie was sleeping soundly in his crib, Lip had come by the Gallagher house, without really knowing why. He just needed to clear his head, to get some distance from Tami and all her relentless nagging about moving and apartment hunting and his colossally obvious fuck-up with the bikes— he just needed some space, some less stifling air to breathe outside of their half-packed apartment crammed with boxes lining the walls.
It was funny; no matter how much energy Lip had poured into he and Tami’s first apartment, into painting the walls and agonizing over their kitchen backsplash like it was his first-born son, whenever Lip thought about home, whenever he felt that pit of uneasiness growing in his stomach and he just needed a place where he could lie back on a couch and loosen the knots in his shoulders and breathe in familiar air that would fill him up, instead of the too-clean smell of Tami’s flowery potpourri that she’d placed on the expensive coffee table in their living room— Lip always found his feet leading him across the slabs of sidewalk and past the chain link fences towards the Gallagher house, no matter the time of night. He had only been in the house for a few minutes before he felt the tight-knit something in his chest begin to unfurl— he didn’t even want to start to think about what was lodged there. This had been a crazy fucking couple of months, and he wasn’t going to start getting sappy about selling the house now, not when they were so close. He’d dug a hole too deep this time, and he needed the money. He couldn’t fuck up again— not with Freddie to take care of. No matter what it cost him.
So that’s how Lip ended up sitting at the Gallagher kitchen table at 2 a.m. on a Thursday night, sipping at an overly-sugary pop that was no substitute for what he really wanted to be drinking right now—he could imagine how it would warm the insides of his stomach, how it would cushion whatever weird fucking ache was in his chest right now. But— no. Fuck no. He wasn’t going to do that now. Everything about selling the house, about moving on, was about getting his shit straight— about leaving the bad parts of this sagging roof and these stained floorboards behind him.
Lip slouched in the wooden kitchen chair, scrolling on his phone and finally letting out a breath he didn’t really know he had been holding in all day, when he heard a creaking of footsteps padding at the top of the stairs— too heavy to be Liam or Debbie, too careful and unfumbling to be Frank dragging himself through the house. Lip flickered a glance up from where he was sitting and met Ian’s eyes as he turned the corner of the stairs, his skin looking translucent and overly pale in the moonlight like the ginger motherfucker he was.
Ian nodded his head towards Lip in acknowledgement, like he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that his older brother with a whole ass family and apartment of his own was decidedly squatting in the kitchen of his childhood home, drinking a pathetic-looking can of Dr. Pepper. Ian slid open the fridge door, grabbing a beer and swiftly popping the cap off by knocking the bottle on the side of the counter—and then in an instant it became one of those quiet, familiar nights when it was just Lip and Ian in the kitchen, sometimes letting easy conversations flow between them, but other times, just like this— just sinking into each other’s presence in the silence. Ian’s shadow mingling with the moonlight on the kitchen floor immediately snapped the atmosphere from lonely and self-pitying and stale to something lighter, something familiar—like the worn, buttery leather of a baseball glove that fits just right.
Instantly Lip was brought back to so many nights before this, of he and Ian orbiting each other in the kitchen at night— when they were kids and would creep down the stairs and eat fistfuls of junk food that Fiona had forbidden, or steal warm sips of the open beers Frank had left on the counter. This was where they’d processed Monica’s return, late at night while they passed a cigarette between them and Ian hadn’t tried to hide the tears that were freely rolling down his freckled cheeks, back when they were both just confused kids who clung to each other— this was where they’d processed Frank’s alcoholic meltdowns, too many to count, and all the love and loss and confusion that had passed between these walls, all the collateral damage of living in this fucking neighborhood. And Lip felt a sudden pang in his gut, sharp and present, when he realized that it might be one of the last nights that he and Ian got to spend in the kitchen like this.
Lip immediately shoved the thought down with all his might, a hydraulic press squeezing out any sentimentality. He had to do this— for Freddie, for Tami. He had to man up and move on, even if it meant physically wounding the crumbling walls to ease the pain of the parallel jagged wounds somewhere deep in his chest, or screaming and shouting until veins popped in his neck, so loud that he knew he was radiating his pain outwards like a fucking atomic bomb.
But tonight, Lip had no more fight left to give. He just wanted to let these four walls hold him one last time, without even realizing that was what he had needed until this moment. Ian slid a chair out from the kitchen table and sat beside him, leaning back and dragging out a slow, sleepy breath.
Lip cleared his throat, softly. “Where’s Mick?”
“Passed out upstairs.” Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Lip raised his eyebrow, almost involuntarily, and Ian immediately jutted his chin up in a half-nod, an affirmation, as he leaned back even farther and took the first sip of his beer. No, he wasn’t manic and yes, he was fine. After all the years that had passed since Ian was still figuring this shit out, Lip sometimes forgot that checking in on him wasn’t really his job, not anymore.
Lip took another sip from his soda can, a movement to fill the easy silence. “How was your guys’ night?”
Ian shrugged non-committally, his shoulders still slumped back in the chair, his lips puckered around the mouth of the bottle as he stared off into the distance at the peeling kitchen wallpaper. “Eh. It was fine. I dragged Mickey out to try and make more gay friends. Ended up being a mistake.”
Lip held back a laugh, taking a sip from his own drink to mask his smirk. He had ample auditory evidence that Mickey was plenty as gay as Ian, but it was still hard to imagine Mickey leaning into all of this shit— Ian used to wear golden underwear and frequent gay clubs and go to social justice brunches, but none of that really seemed like it was Mickey’s scene.
“Oh yeah? Mickey not the easiest person to befriend?” Lip said it with his eyebrows raised, like the joke was obvious.
Ian looked up at him, like he’d been snapped out of a sleepy train of thought, staring earnestly like Lip’s jab had flown right over his head. “Actually, it was kind of my fault. I was the one who made us leave this dinner party thing we got invited to. They were all talking shit about the Southside, about how they hated their families, and I couldn’t really… connect with them, I guess.”
Lip pondered that, taking a breath and stretching his arms above his head. God, he was sore— he hadn’t even been fucking working, aside from hauling those bikes from place to place to avoid the cops, but all the pent up stress and tension was starting to linger in his bones.
“Yeah, it was the same for me. In college, or whatever. Joaquin was the only person I really talked to, because he got all the shit I was always going through.”
Ian nodded contemplatively—but he was staring off into space again, almost like he was half asleep. Lip took another sip of his soda. He could bring up the house shit again right now—it was all that they’d been talking about for the past few weeks—but for some reason it felt too raw, too intense to bring up right now, like it would cut through this peaceful moment, this island in the vast sea of uncertainty Lip knew he was bringing down on all of their heads. So in this moment, he opted for smoother waters.
“Why’d you guys go looking for new friends, anyways?”
Ian finally broke out of whatever drowsy, pensive trance he’d been in, his lips sloping into a smile. “Mickey kept giving me shit for always doing what you do, after breakfast today. I figured… I don’t know, I just got all pissy and tried to prove him wrong.”
Lip felt the corner of his mouth tick upward at that. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”
Ian grinned, and held out his beer bottle, stretching his arm across the table. Lip tapped it with his soda can with a light “Cheers,” then took the final sip. He crushed the can to a disk on the table, pressing it down firmly with the heel of his palm and watching the sides compress. Ian’s eyes were cast downward at the table, watching his movements.
“How’s stuff with you and Tami going, all the packing and shit?”
Lip turned the flattened can on its side, contemplatively spinning it like a top on the table and fidgeting with it between his fingers.
“Honestly? I’m fucking exhausted.”
He could hear the breathiness as he said it, how deflated his own voice sounded. And Lip knew could make himself say more— he knew if anyone would get it, Ian would.
“It’s just… fuck, man.”
He looked up and Ian was staring directly at him now, his expression unguarded— listening. Listening like he always did in these moments. Lip let out a low chuckle, trying to shield his own vulnerability.
“How’d we get so fucking old? How is this… it, y’know? Finally leaving the fucking nest, or whatever.”
Ian smiled, placing his beer on the table. “I think you already left the nest when you had a baby and moved into an apartment with your girlfriend.”
Lip shrugged, fiddling with the crushed can again between his fingertips. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”
“And you are the one making us do this, for the record.”
If Ian’s tone wasn’t as playful or as tentative as it was, Lip would have worried that he was upset— but judging by Ian’s still-comfortable slouch and his steady expression, Lip knew he was fine— he was weathering the storm, just like Lip was.
Ian leaned forward.
“Hey. Mickey was giving me shit—but it is true. You’re my best friend, even though you can be a fucking asshole sometimes.” Ian’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”
Ian’s eyes flickered around the kitchen as he spoke, and Lip heard everything that was unsaid. Even though you’re kicking us out of the house. Even though you’re changing everything. Even though there isn’t a focal point to our lives anymore.
You’re my best friend.
And Lip felt that pang in his gut again, sharp like a dagger.
**
He’d said it before, and he’d had no problem saying it over and over again in Mickey’s absence, up until the months before the wedding— Ian did always go a little bit “loco” when Mickey was around.
Which, fuck him, I guess, for caring about his little brother with an undiagnosed mental illness who was off living in the Milkovich House of Horrors slash meth lab with Mickey fucking Milkovich, the bully with greasy hair who Lip wrote papers for in high school and who now was a literal, actual, godforsaken pimp. Lip had seen a teenage Ian bruised and drunk and curled into himself crying over Mickey too many times to ever think that this shit was a good idea— and years later, when Ian almost threw away everything, almost threw away stability and sanity and his fucking family to follow Mickey Milkovich across the Mexican border, Lip knew he had to say something, even though it was an unspoken rule that he and Ian didn’t really critique each other’s love lives since the Mandy-and-Karen fiascos of years past.
So he’d said it, that day in the kitchen, after Ian had returned on a Greyhound bus and they were still processing the dull pain of Monica’s loss— and Ian had taken the feedback with a closed-lip smile, like his head was somewhere else, as he picked at the corner of the beer bottle label with his thumb.
And then less than a year later Mickey was released anyways, and ended up standing in a tank top and boxers in the middle of the Gallagher living room, when the house was crawling with strangers and Freddie was barely two weeks old— and Lip had taken in a sharp breath, a bundle of hesitant nerves sprouting for whatever the fuck this situation was going to become; but not one that he could really give attention to, with all the other bullshit that was pulling at his focus, like the desperate screeching of his newborn kid and the mascara running down Tami’s face.
Later that night, when he’d had a spare moment to breathe and Tami was finally calmed down and sleeping in their cramped bedroom, he’d run into Ian in the moonlit hallway as he was stumbling his way out of the bathroom, drowsily rubbing his eyes with his hair sticking up. And Lip had stopped him with a whisper, placing a hand to tap Ian’s shoulder as Ian blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Hey. So uh… I see Mickey’s out.”
He’d seen the defenses immediately raise in Ian’s eyes, like he knew what Lip was going to say next.
“Yeah.” Ian had said it soft, quietly, like he was afraid of someone waking.
You sure that’s a good idea? Lip could feel the words itching on the tip of his tongue, and he was aching to say them again, all these years later— and yes, maybe his head was so wrapped up in his own shit that he didn’t really have the authority to be doling out relationship advice to his little brother right now, but so much of this reminded him of things that had happened in the past, of Mickey Milkovich crashing on Ian’s bedroom floor until he inevitably couldn’t anymore, until the pressure cooker of his presence mingled with Ian’s inevitably exploded— or at least that was how Lip saw it. There were too many wounds, and they were bound to leave scars— Lip was honestly surprised as fuck that the Gallagher house was Mickey’s first stop out of prison, after everything that had gone down between the two of them.
But, for Ian’s sake, Lip tried to reign it in—despite the fact that they’d just been commiserating about “being in love with crazy people” as they crouched on the living room stairs the night before as Ian sipped on a beer, sputtering out a “fuck no” when Lip asked if he was going to marry Mickey (which was an equally as batshit question as if Lip was going to marry Tami). Despite all of this— now that Mickey was back, Lip could see that this was something Ian wanted, that this was something Ian was treading carefully into, one more time. He was definitely stronger now; even Lip could see that.
“He gonna be hanging around here a while?”
Ian had given a gentle, sleepy smile. “Yeah. Think so.”
And Lip had just reached out, and clapped Ian’s sleep-warmed body on the shoulder. “Sounds good, man.”
Ian had walked the remaining length of the hallway, opening the bedroom door— and in the shadows, Lip could see that Mickey was curled on the old, concave mattress of Ian’s single bed that he’d slept on since they were kids— and Ian had lifted the thin blanket and pressed up next to him, the mattress sinking beneath their collective weight, settling in and pressing a kiss to the top of a snoring Mickey’s head without a second thought. Huh.
That was the beginning of Lip starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, this time with Mickey would be different— and it was. As Mickey started to become a daily fixture in the Gallagher house, constantly pinned to Ian’s side, Lip had noticed how something solid had shifted—they weren’t reckless kids anymore, for starters. He hadn’t really seen Mick and Ian physically together since Ian was catapulting off the deep end, in the weeks after Ian had gotten dragged away by the P.I.s and Mickey had gotten locked up for some crazy fucking stunt trying to murder Sammy. Things were too intense then, too technicolor—for some reason, Lip thought Mickey being back meant that they’d return to being that way.
But now here was this guy, placing a gentle hand on Ian’s chest and saying “Woah, wait a minute” to protect Ian from the batshit P.O. that had just barged through the door—and Lip couldn’t help but realize that was something that he would have done to protect Ian, in a universe where Mickey was still behind bars.
After then, Lip just kept seeing it— the ways that Mickey showed up for Ian. Not even in the ways that he used to, like forcing Ian to take his meds back when everything was uncertain and Ian was slipping through their fingers like sand in a sieve; but in a more solid, adult way, in a way that made Ian buzz whenever he was around him, in a way that made Ian happier and lighter. And maybe it was just the sex—part of it had to be the fucking sex, considering how loud they always were— but Lip realized, after a couple of weeks of Mickey’s presence in the house before their whole eventual engagement fiasco, that Mickey was Ian’s friend, in addition to all the other things he was. After all the years of uncertainty, they’d finally grown the fuck up— Mickey was someone who brought out the best in Ian, and it was like Ian had been waiting for this moment, for Mickey by his side, before he could fully and totally bloom.
And it was weird how emotional that made Lip— after seeing Ian as a hollow shell in a jumpsuit pushing garbage cans around a college campus, or pretending to be someone he wasn’t who wore patterned button-up shirts and threw around fucking useless five-dollar words that Lip didn’t understand like “gender identity” and “intersectionality”— Ian had finally made it, beyond being the bruised, scrawny kid getting sexually abused by a creepy 30 year old man in the back room of a mini-mart, or getting high off his ass every night and starving himself to fit into a golden thong, or wearing a baggy janitor suit with dark circles under his eyes and pallid skin. Ian had done that shit on his own, and made himself into something in Mickey’s absence, sure— but so much of him being the full, happy person he was in this moment was because of Mickey, and Lip could see that now.
Ian was himself— he wasn’t a shadow anymore.
And that was why Lip had said he thought he should marry Mickey, in the end— because there was no doubt in his mind that Mickey Milkovich wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon.
Lip could still see it now, in the way that Ian was lounging comfortably in the living room, like he had his whole life— but now Mickey was resting just as comfortably beside him. It was a few weeks after that night in the kitchen, and Lip had just pitched the FOR SALE sign in the Gallagher front yard— now everyone was huddled in the living room, for what they now knew was one of their last lingering nights in this space. Liam was sitting next to Lip, pressed into his side, seeking the comfort that Lip knew he needed through all of these massive fucking changes— Franny was playing on the floor and Debbie was sitting beside her, and across the room Ian and Mickey were pressed side-by-side on the fraying loveseat, scrolling through the lease document for their new apartment on the battered laptop. They were murmuring things to each other that Lip couldn’t really make out— but Mickey was pressed against Ian, slouching into him slightly, and Ian’s eyes were light. In his flicker of a glance towards them, Lip noticed that Mickey was playing with Ian’s hand, swiping a finger over his wedding ring, as Ian scrolled through the paperwork and started to read all the contract information out loud— and Lip smiled to himself as he tried to tune out all the sappy bullshit that was going on in that corner of the room.
Ian was going to be just fine.
**
Hour later Lip strode out the door to the front porch, a cigarette he’d bummed off of Ian wrapped in his fist— he didn’t smoke anymore, especially not under the same roof as Tami, but there was something about the gravity of this night, of the flimsy red and white sign rooted in the front yard, that made Lip’s fingertips itch for a cigarette and made his brain buzz with the want of nicotine to dull the sharp edges of everything he was feeling—for smoke to float in front of his face while he sat on the front steps just one more time.
He perched on the front steps as the sun was just starting to set, the fish-scale shadows of the chain link fence encroaching further and further into the yard as he flicked at his lighter.
He heard a light cough from somewhere in front of him— and saw that Mickey was outside too, blowing smoke out of his mouth and leaning against the fence in the front yard facing the house. Lip nodded at him in acknowledgement, then took the first drag. Fuck, he’d needed this.
“You gonna miss this place?”
Mickey said it into the open air, like he isn’t really talking to Lip— his eyes were off in the distance, staring at the paint-chipped front façade of the house. Which was fucking bullshit—why would Mickey be staring absentmindedly, almost fucking wistfully, at the Gallagher house?
It’s not like he and Mickey didn’t talk— they definitely did, pragmatically flinging banter across the kitchen to each other at breakfast when coordinating rides for Liam or grocery list items when Debbie was off at work, existing in the same space every morning— and Mickey helped him haul literal tons of iron when he’d helped him steal the bikes, had haggled over his cut. But never like this—never with any weight, never in a way that was this casual, or this familial, about fucking feelings.
Part of that was probably because it was hard as fuck to worm your way into the Gallagher family—as wide open as their door always seemed to be, with people filtering in and out and crashing on hallway floors or the lumpy couch, this house only continued to function because of its nucleus— because of Lip and Ian and Carl and Debbie and Fiona and Liam and yes, even Frank. Everyone else was a passerby, an impermanent blip crossing through the way station; Jimmy-Steve, Sean, Carl’s slew of girls, Mandy and Karen.
Monica.
None of them were Gallaghers— none of them considered this place to be home, or got all the privileges that came with that. The Gallaghers, the real Gallaghers, had seen every one of these people come and go— and something slippery suddenly crept into Lip’s realization that despite all the odds, despite all of his doubts about him—Mickey had chosen to stay close to these four walls just as much as Lip had.
“Mickey’s family.” Ian had said it over a mouthful of bacon at breakfast a few weeks ago, and Lip had immediately shot him down; but maybe there was some truth to what Ian had said, some truth to the oddly unfailing consistency to Mickey’s ten years. Which meant that maybe…
Maybe it was time to make a fucking peace offering, or whatever.
Lip hummed in acknowledgement to Mickey’s question, pulling himself out of his train of thought.
“Hey. Mick.”
Mickey looked up at where Lip was leaning on the porch, his brows furrowing like he was bracing himself for a confrontation. “Yeah?”
“My head’s been too far up my ass the past couple of months to say it, but, uh. I’m glad you’re family, y’know?”
He’d been passively thinking it for months— but he’d never said it to Mickey, never this directly. He hoped Mickey got it, without brushing it off or shooting him down with some snarky fucking comment like he always did. Lip meant it— he was glad, he was grateful, he was ready to let Mickey Milkovich keep being a part of his fucked up familial life. And he hoped that Mickey saw that.
Mickey just rolled his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette—but he didn’t say anything in reply, not for a moment. And then:
“You’re as sappy as your fucking brother, Phillip.”
#i’ve said it once and ill say it again nothing makes me more emo than ian and mickey sharing ian’s old bed#also sorry this was kinda ANGSTY what can i say#lip is Too Much#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless fic#gallavich fanfiction#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#lip gallagher#ian and mickey#ian x mickey#ixm
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in all sincerity, kim dokja makes me happy and he deserves to be so too :^(
incoherent yelling and sobbing under the cut. these fEELINGS will not be contained aaauuunnghhh.
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anyway i binge-read all 500+ chapters of ORV this week and i honest to god feel bad for this -- completely! fictional! aghhhh -- guy. in case you haven’t figured it out, the following is some spoilerly shit
i went in expecting a fun, brainless power trip fantasy for dudes with an isekai addiction. instead, it turns out ORV is actually a gigantic, self-deprecating prank on the entire genre itself. kdj plays more into the sad -- if high-functioning-- clown trope than the sexy, edgy, chuuni bastard type i was prepared to laugh at. there were -- gasp! -- female characters with personalities! parents (aka ADULTS who act like ADULTS) who actually survive and feature prominently! adorable children! a real sexy, edgy bastard! a power trio with amazing fashion! sexual tension and bickering! friendship! life and death bonding!
*breathes in deeply* fouND FAMILYYYYYYY.
like, yeah, the plot around the first few arcs seems a little aimless, but the buildup is worth. the world-building is pretty decent. there’s discernible effort put into the fight scenes, and i can appreciate that. but -- but! what i stayed for were the characters -- namely, the fantastic OT3 of KDJ, HSY, and YJH -- who come together despite their initial rivalries and end up saving each other’s asses, like, every other day. granted, the other characters don’t get as much focus, and they do fall into certain character tropes..
but a trope done well is nothing i would gripe about. every significant character in ORV has a coherent, and more importantly, respectful take on their respective trope. maybe it’s because sing-shong is actually a married couple, but all the interactions between even minor characters are a convincing blend of awkward rambling, suggestive humor, sharp remarks, and casual banter. in other words, this cast of mostly working adults (plus a teen and two kids) talks like working adults. the relationships built throughout the story are, frankly, some of most realistic of its genre. sing-shong has managed to craft a dynamic that undoubtedly brims with fluffy fondness all around, but also drips with sarcastic tension, with unspoken urgency, with a wariness that softens into sincerity over the course of many, many chapters. it’s the kind of progression that makes even stock characters read like more than just the 2-bit villain or comrade or love interest. here, we have relationships both straightforward and not, strained or otherwise, romantically-oriented as well as decidedly the opposite -- and then numerous others scattered along the spectrum with the freedom to shift either way.
it’s also an interesting point of note that our MC kdj actually does not end up with a stated romantic partner, much less a conventional heteroromantic harem. he gets teased about that fact from time to time, but it’s with less of the sleazy shonen locker room humor one would expect and more of the good-natured ribbing you’d find among friends or that one especially nosy auntie at the yearly family reunion. kdj is a grown ass man. in the background, i applaud his maturity, and he handles all the prodding like a champ.
so instead of finding and fulfilling his horny, he builds himself a wealth of loving family. yeah, there are beautiful men and women around him. yeah, they unequivocally adore him. but they’re also adults, and they have priorities, too -- which are not so much finding a way to bang kdj’s brains out and more so simply keeping the damn guy alive. this is truly not ‘oblivious mc with his thirsty, sex kitten harem’. it just so happens that a guy proves himself to be unflinchingly gentle and capable in an apocalyptic setting despite his broken self-esteem, and lots of people find that attractive, romantically and platonically.
it.. kinda makes sense? he’s a hard worker, thoughtful, and good with kids. kdj is the kind of guy you know would make a reliable partner, and anybody with eyes can plainly see and appreciate that.
and it’s not that our MC’s a total brick wall. in fact, it’s likely the opposite, and he’s just too darned repressed to admit it. from what has been implied, kdj does indeed recognize and accept love, or at least a primitive concept of it. i like to imagine that the kind of love that he ends up seeking out simply manifests itself more easily as acceptance and safety, as warmth and a home of people to return to every day. even better, the people who surround him know this, and they give him exactly that. it’s refreshing, and honestly, really sweet.
(as a side note, i really, really do appreciate the cosmic bi energy radiating off of kdj, who canonically earns the title of being loved by all and is all but in name married to yjh and hsy. he also respects women and small children and honestly anyone who isn’t total scum to him or his family. i respect that.)
but the happy stuff aside, you know it it just ain’t ORV without the generous screaming dollop of angst. admittedly, there’s self-sacrifice, injury, lonesome wandering, more sacrifice, some epic fighting, reunion and confrontation. all of it is a lot to digest, sure, but never does it feel entirely hopeless, or truly, truly heart-clenching. ORV, up until the final act, is a mostly light read. you relax in your chair, thinking that nothing beyond this point can disturb you.
yeah fucking right.
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and then the beginning of the end arrives. when the squad finally break through to their ‘ending’, the scene that kind of breaks me is the reveal of the Most Ancient Dream. it ties so much thematically into the little tidbits that we get of kdj’s past, and it though it feels like almost a joke that the source of the goddamn apocalypse is a kid with bruises smeared across his skinny ass body -- it’s such a pathetic picture that it’s kinda poetic, actually. you’re left mystified but somewhat convinced, like a math problem explained halfway through. this.. child.. is a villain somehow, isn’t he?
and then 999th turn uriel speaks up, and she. just. hugs him.
[[You are this universe’s most powerless existence, aren’t you.]]
that. that gets me. kdj’s reaction immediately upon this revelation? absolute murder. seeing him essentially self-destruct upon realizing that all these people he’s surrounded himself with -- some who continuously proclaim their loyalty and affection for him throughout their journey, some who suffered eons of war and loss and trauma because of his existence -- not only forgive his younger self but smother him with unconditional acceptance and love is stifling, is too vulnerable and exposed and he simply can’t cope -- it’s so telling of his true mentality, of his crippling insecurity and crumpled sense of self-worth. kim dokja is a liar, through and through, so much that he fails, or perhaps refuses, to comprehend the veracity of others’ kindness and love towards himself.
by some miracle, the events at the end of the world somehow resolve.. or so it seems. there is a departing train, a liberated team of ex-gods, and a child rousing from his slumber. in the aftermath, i am left shaking. somehow, despite the ending having been (happily?) reached, there’s still another chapter ahead. what is this witchcraft?
------
and then ah, yes -- the epilogue arc. i teetered on the edge of being critical for a little bit there -- is that display of deus ex machina, of sad, self-sacrificing nobility a bit too egregious to be acceptable? is this some wild last let-me-yank-this-outta-my-ass plot twist to drag out the chapter count? i sincerely thought that the arc before it would have been the finale. i was wrong. thank god.
anyways, as an answer to the above: no, and no. i stake my firm claim on the belief that the epilogue arc was meticulously planned out well in advance of its release, confusing and time-warpy as it is. i liked it. tremendously. even if it entirely invalidates all of kdj’s supposed development (”haha lol yeah sure i won’t sacrifice myself or anything anymore guys don’t worry about me” -- KDJ, at some point because he’s a lying rat bastard). actually, our beloved MC disappears for a large chunk of this arc, and i think it’s great. in his absence, the other characters not only go absolutely fucking nuts, but they have to figure out this new problem on their own, even if the lure of peaceful complacency in the newly saved Korea might convince them otherwise.
and then the whole time paradox thing comes around. yjh goes to space, hsy saves the only life she can, and kdj grows up. the crew waits, holding onto their hope even if it bleeds them dry. sing-shong does a damn good job of illustrating their fraying calm, their lurking madness, the unseen but pervasive depression that seeps in from kdj’s absence. the kids lose their father, lhs and jhw lose their reliable leader figure, ysa loses a best friend and confidant, lsk -- as distant as she pretends to be from her son -- loses her only child. and then there’s hsy and yjh , who are essentially bereft of the other half of their existences. their pain is palpable, is grounded in the hopeless, gnawing frustration of an utterly meaningless victory. emotionally, ORV hits all the right -- if agonizing -- beats.
however, a story can’t sustain itself just through its pathos. i’m happy to say that ORV doesn’t drop the ball after the first milestone, and after all the hurt, the characters do leap straight back into action. even better, the plot holes actually do get patches, and the poetic cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader comes full circle by making use of all those supposedly throwaway characters from the myriad world lines.
at the end of the road, there is a distinct sense of unity, of a delicate but undeniable cohesion to the world lines and their origins. sing-shong lets us guess a little here at the finish, but there’s just enough information to feel hopeful. maybe there never had been a definite start -- or finish -- to the story of kdj company, and... that’s okay. everybody ends up where they were meant to be, where they fought and struggled to reach. it’s.. almost like a happily ever after, if we’re allowed to dream of that.
------
now, i realize, this was all an orchestrated maneuver.
i’ll take it.
to me, all of this work sounds like someone put some serious thought into this behemoth of a plot. it cements the entire original premise of the story. it suggests -- but never explicitly confirms! -- the possibility that breaking free of the cycle is possible through the exact same system that sustains it. it’s terribly interesting -- and inspirational! with all the dramatic revelations and life-threatening scenarios and the cast’s resigned acceptance of them that essentially make up ORV’s entire mood, there’s still that last hint of rebellious and righteous anger that lights up the whole damn nebula. it’s like the kdj company blasting away at the heavens just to yell into the nether: we’re not looking for the happy end, but the free one. stay alive.
it’s subtle, and yet it’s such an emotional gut punch. i came away with the most ruinous, frustrating, bittersweet sense of longing in ages. i pined. for these fictional darlings. god, i am weak.
so. yeah. ORV is pretty good. flawed, but ambitious and impressively thought out. i’m stoked that the webtoon is making pretty good progress, even if it’ll take an eternity and a half to meet that monstrous chapter count. i’m still gonna follow it. hell yeah.
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(by the way the idea that secretive plotter and co are literally gonna take care of and raise baby kdj and spoil him and be the best friggin family a kid could ever want does things to me. protect him. he’s suffered too much. let at least one worldline’s version of him know happiness. and actually, aLL OF THEM DESERVE DOMESTIC BLISS TOGETHER IN A BIG OL MANSION WITH SUN AND FRESH AIR AND TENDER FAMILY MOMENTS UGH)
------
and there you have it, folks. you made it to the end. in the far, far distance, i’m cheering you on and crying my eyes out in gratitude. thanks for tuning in!
#omniscient reader#orv#omniscient reader's viewpoint#kim dokja#fanart#kdj happiness rights!#protect him!#let! him! have his big house! with everyone! he loves!#please!#long ass emotional screeching#look i can't do him justice with drawing but hell can i yell out my love for him :'^DD
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witness.
DAVE YORK. THE EQUALIZER. ┃ USEFUL LINKS
❝ request by @missstef23: Hi! I’m so excited you’re doing Dave York requests, I’ve been on a Dave York kick lately lol. This is probably a dumb idea but maybe Dave is on one of his killing missions and the reader is witness to one of his latest killings and is obviously freaked out but slightly turned on by him? I just wanted to know his reaction to having an accidental witness and what he would do. Thank you!! 💕
❝ words: about 600.
❝ a / n: first time writing for this guy, i hope you like it! as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!
The knife against your throat, slightly pressed but enough to draw a mark on your skin, forces you to pin your back to the wall. The alley is plenty dark, keeping the passers-by alien to what's happening inside. You have a pair of cocoa eyes fixed on yours over a clenched and perfectly shaved jaw, smelling like glory. You gulp in silence, regretting it a second after by the soft rip of the blade.
“I don't want to kill you”. He growls tangling your t-shirt in a fist, settling a leg between yours. “But sometimes, we have to do things we don't want”.
“Ple— Please, don't”. You beg him with an agonic sob, closing your eyelids and trying to not move a single inch of your anatomy.
You could lie and say you haven't seen anything. Lie about breaking into your neighbor's house. Lie about the silent shoots illuminating his living room. But that man has watched you through the curtains and that's why he has chased you till where you are at this exact moment.
“I did— I didn't even like him”. You utter them through a low breath. And that's true. “He… He was an asshole… He prob— probably deserved it”.
“Oh, he did”. The murderer admits with a melodic hum, pressing his anatomy a little more against you.
Your mind plays dirty, causing you to gasp slowly as you feel your throat getting dried for the proximity. You're about to die, but your brain thinks it's a good moment to turn your core on because it looks like the start of a bad porn movie; the classical plot of a thief that ends fucking the poor scared girl against the wall. He can't help but chuckle incredulously, not sure of what he has just heard.
“Look at you…” He hisses moving the knife between his gloved fingers, putting the tip on the center of your throat, roaming down your skin in slow motion, enjoying how your parted lips seem pleased with the caresses. “How's your name?”
“(Y/N)”. You babble not wanting to open your eyes yet, feeling his face coming closer to you as he leans forward.
“Well, (Y/N) you don't look like a… bad girl. Just someone stepping in the wrong place at the wrong time”. His words are dragged against your lips, suddenly pressing the blade of his knife to your throat, having to swallow another sob. “I know where you live. I've seen the plates of your car. And now, I know your name. You know what means for you to open that mouth of yours?”
You nod as he nods too funnily. For some reason he doesn't understand, Dave doesn't want you dead. There's something about you that has him enraptured. Maybe your suffering, maybe the way he causes you goosebumps playing with the cold steel, maybe because of your wet lips by your tears pointing straight to his.
Caressing the tip of your nose with his, the man brings his mouth to your right ear, keeping his metallic weapon in his thigh-holster before loosening the hand gripping your shirt. “Run, little rabbit… Run”.
He doesn't need to tell you again. As soon as he takes a step back to give you some space, you push him away with both hands on his chest to run. Your calves burn because of the effort, not knowing exactly where to go. You aren't sure if he is really letting you go, or if he's having some kind of fun before actually killing you. But what you have pretty clear is that you're not going to say anything to the cops in case they ask you about what happened.
GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee
#dave york x you#dave york x reader#dave york#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal
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Can I Ask You Something?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
You were online a week later.
It was a boring day, with a slow start and by night, you were starting to feel restless, your feet bouncing and an empty bag of chips rests on your nightstand. You were itching for something to do, anything to distract but no show or game could hold your attention. You throw your head back and gnaw at your bottom lip.
Your fingers tap against the keyboard, and with a glance at the time, you pull up the calendar for the group time slots and with a fairly positive outlook that that you wouldn’t run into the other team members, you booted up the game, and started a simple mission but even then your attention couldn’t be held. The game had already lost its spark for you.
You admit that you reacted childishly in response to being yelled at. You were always sensitive, you cried too much and took everything personally even if you tried not to but for some reason it just hit different when he had yelled at you.
You were so angry with him at the time. But when you awoke the next day, you were angry with yourself. You made that dumb post and now you had to hold off for a month to show that his words didn’t hurt you- you had a point to prove, you didn’t want to seem as someone who reacted so childishly.
You thought you would miss the game but having not played for a period of time, you were starting to enjoy your time. You slept a bit earlier, your back wasn’t sore from hunching over and you had started to pick up old hobbies that you dropped when you got sucked into this game. Picking it back up, the game no longer felt the same. You remember you could get lost in this game for hours, you liked the customization options, the weapons, and the soundtrack was pretty good, but for now as you wandered around a forest, looking for a crystal that wouldn’t be of any real use to you seeing as you had already decided to quit the game for good, you were grateful for the distraction.
But as the clock ticked on, you had already grown bored, feeling your joints become sore and a headache forming. You were about to exit out of the game and pray that none of the members would see that you were active but then a ‘ding’ startled you awake. You peeked at the corner of the screen, a familiar icon popping up. You frowned, your shoulders slumped and you debated with yourself on whether you should open the message or not but your curiosity won over.
<Tomaraki>
>Are you quitting the game or not?
“Blunt as always,” you thought to yourself, your fingers already typing at the keyboard.
<User_Name>
>Yeah:P
His reply came a second later.
<Tomaraki>
>Why?
You wanted to type, “Why do you care?” You really did. You had the words on screen, the cursor blinking back at you, but you couldn’t force yourself to press the ‘Enter’ key. The corner of your mouth twitched and you backspaced, the message disappearing and replaced by another.
<User_Name>
>I don’t know. I’m kinda sick of it, you know? The user base is p toxic and I know that can be said for most games but I don’t know┐(´～｀)┌
>Plus after taking a break and coming back to it,,, the game doesn’t feel the same anymore
>I’m kind of bored of it
<Tomaraki>
>That’s stupid
You let of a scoff, rolling your eyes at his answer.
<User_Name>
>I have been known to be pretty dumb
>I’m sure you’ve called me stupid before too lol
You watch as the three dots bubble up and down the screen, signifying his reply is being typed out and having no other form of entertainment, you take in a deep breath and with butterflies flapping around in your stomach, you type out more before he can reply to your original message.
>Will you be fine without me?
>You won’t miss your bestest pal uwu
On the other side of the screen, Shigaraki narrows his eyes. His eyes shine dangerously, and he’s positive if you knew who were talking to, you’d be shaking and begging for you life. Or perhaps you’d be dead. He’s not sure.
<Tomaraki>
>I have better ‘friends’ than you
“Ouch.” You cringe inwardly. “Strike one.”
<User_Name>
>Wow, rude much??
>Well if I’m quitting, do you want my stuff? I’ve racked up a decent amount of gold and other stuff:P
“I sound like I’m dying and writing my will, stop being weird about it. You never even meet the dude,” you mumble to yourself, grateful that the voice chat function was off. “Oh my god. He could be like super old or something”
<Tomaraki>
>Does it look like I take handouts?
“Is that a strike two?” You chewed on the idea of your cheek. “If I have to ask, it probably was.”
<User_Name>
Can I ask you something?
<Tomaraki>
You just did
<User_Name>
:////
You were about to type out your question, the four words staring back at you unblinking. It would be weird, right? Of course it would be. And even if you did ask him that, the odds of him accepting would be slim. Plus, if he did reject, that would be strike three and you really didn’t want to strike out so much.
<Tomaraki>
>Well?
<User_Name>
>Um,,,
>How old are you?
You threw your head into your hands and let out an agonized moan. Maybe you should just delete your account now. You don’t even know the guy’s name and he doesn’t know yours. So you could just delete your account and that would be it. You’d never have to speak to him ever again.
<Tomaraki>
>You’re weird
You start laughing.
<User_Name>
>Says the guy who would tell other players to be careful who they’re talking to
>Who are you? Light Yagami?
<Tomaraki>
>That’s a shit reference
<User_Name>
>You got it tho
>(ʃƪ¬‿¬)
<Tomaraki>
>Why do you want to know?
“You have nothing to lose really,” you try to convince yourself as a way to just get to talk to him more.
<User_Name>
>I don’t know
>After a while, I always thought of you as a friend
>The other members sorta liked me, but I think it was more of them putting up with me
>But I thought we were beginning to form a friendship so I don’t know
>I guess a dumb part of me thought we could’ve been friends outside of the game:P
Shigaraki stares at the screen in disbelief. You must not have much or any friends at all if you thought he was being friendly. He’s positive that he would kill you if he knew you in real life. Probably right away if he met you on the street or maybe he’d take you as a hostage. He’s sure that he’d kill you but now he’s not sure when.
<Tomaraki>
>You really are dumb
<User_Name>
>I can’t tell if you mean it or not
>Knowing you, you probably do
>Can I say good-bye to you? Like facecam wise?
He’d kill you on sight.
<User_Name>
>You don’t have to turn your camera on!! I guess, as my last like dumb wish, I wanna say bye?
>Pleaseee（/｡＼)
>I’ll promise to log out afterwards
Shigaraki stares at your messages, trying to gauge at what you’re trying to get at. Do you really want to just say bye? Who the hell gets so emotional in a fucking game? But he would be lying is he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious to see what you look like. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll be attractive and he could probably jerk at the thought of you before he goes to bed.
<Tomaraki>
>I’m not showing my face
You smile at his answer. It’s the best that you were hoping for and you start to brush your hair out of your face, checking the mirror on your nightstand to see if you look presentable.
<User_Name>
>Fine by me
>It’ll be quick, promise:)
And soon he’s staring at the pop-up screen asking if he’d like to request a video call from you. He’s tempted to click no. He cranes his head behind him and once he’s certain that the door is closed, he accepts your call.
You pop up on screen. You’re cute, that’s as much as he’s willing to admit. You adjusting yourself, putting a strand of hair behind your ear before you realize that the call has been accepted. You look startled, and a shade of pink fills in your cheeks. You giggle nervously, waving a hand at the screen.
“Ahaha, hi!” You giggle nervously and he’s pretty sure you’re already regretting this decision. “So like I promised to keep this short and all, so I will.” You looked determined; you stand a bit straighter and take in a deep breath. You remind him of an anime character, someone with exaggerated movements and he’s positive that you’ve confessed your feelings to someone before in that same action.
“Now, now,” his voice freezes you in place, he reminds me you of snake, slithering towards their unassuming prey and you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s trying to convey, “what’s the rush? I thought we were “bestest friends”.” His voice is sickly sweet, taunting you with words that you’ve spoken. His words make you nervous, your hands clenching together and your stomach forming knots.
And suddenly it’s clicked in your mind that he wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s probably getting off at the thought of it. And while he is succeeding at that, you don’t want to lose whatever game he’s playing.
“Ha! You admitted it.” You swallow the lump in your throat and flex your fingers. “Okay bestie,” the way you say the word is like you’re trying to bait him into something, and even you’re not sure what you’re leading him into, “I gotta ask. Are you an old man? You sound kind of creepy. Not like a pervy creepy but like you’re gonna kidnap me and murder me in your basement kind of creepy.”
He laughs and you decide that you want to hear more of it- even if it does sound eerie.
“Do me a favor? If you do end up kidnapping me, can you at least bring me a smoothie from BlueBird’s?” You test out your luck, hoping that he’ll play along so you’re not the only talking and maybe it’ll disrupt whatever ruse he was planning.
“What flavor?” He sneered, playing at this sick roleplay that you made up.
You smiled brightly, as if you had gotten one over him, and surprisingly, he didn’t hate your smile. He’s seen all sorts of smiles directed towards him- crazed, trying to get into his good graces, smiles that held murderous intent but yours just looked happy, happy that you were talking to him. Illuminated by a yellow glow, his sneer looks more twisted, his upper lip curling in a twisted way and crimson eyes narrowed with revulsion.
“Mango, please and thank you.” You nodded your head, your smile wasn’t gentle as it was before, it was now playful, as if you wanted to continue this whole kidnapping scenario. He wanted to see how long this conversation would go before you said goodbye. For good. “Anyways, I said I’d make this quick and I will. I—”
“I’m not an old man.”
You laughed at his answer, covering your smile with your hand, and you looked up at him, your eyes brimming with mischief and excitement.
“Okay. And I’m not some elderly person either.”
“Yeah dumbass, I can see that.”
You crossed your arms and you continued to smile at him. “I get that we’re besties and all, but do you really have to keep insulting me?” You pouted your lips, before they broke out into a toothy smile, it was a bit forced but it was only to show that you were joking around with him.
“Is there any other type of friendship?” He genuinely sounded a bit curious.
“Mm, maybe?” You tilted you head to the side and he had a fleeting thought that you reminded him of a cat. “I mean, when I’m with my friends, we joke a lot but we don’t really insult each other too often.” You frowned a bit, your eyebrows furrowed before returning to the screen, giving out a half smile and shrugging your shoulders. “Thin skin, I guess.” A pause was in the air, too uncomfortable for your liking. “Are your friendships like that? Insulting, I mean.”
He hesitated for a second before replying, his voice drenched in fake nonchalance, “That’s a dumb question.”
You took that as a clue to not dwell on the subject any longer. You nodded to yourself forgetting that you were screen, only to hear him chortle on the other side.
“Are you agreeing that it’s a dumb question?”
You stretched your mouth into a nervous smile, heat lighting your cheeks as you racked your brain for a solid excuse on why you nodded to yourself. “Um, yeah?” You didn’t sound confident in the slightest but Shigaraki was curious on how you would save your own skin this time even if this conversation was rather dull. “Like, I guess it would make sense that you said that.” You brought your hands up, and shrugged them, your fingers curling inwards. “It was you who like really enforced the rule about not talking about your personal life so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to talk about your IRL friend groups.” You leaned further back, your pillows providing comfort against the hard wood that was your bed frame.
No noise came from him other than that of fabric being moved around and scratching at the microphone. “Did you really just say ‘IRL’ instead of ‘in real life’?” He sounded smug about it, as if he had proof that you were a total dweeb. “I never took you for one of those people.” He said ‘those people’ as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.
You let out a nervous laugh, before it grew into a snicker with your eyes shut. “First of all, ‘IRL” is faster to say compared to ‘in real life’ so jot that down. Second of all,” you tilted your chin upwards, giving you a false sense of superiority, “you’re the only always going on about “eat shit and die” and “suck my dick”,” your voice dropped an octave, a poor imitation of the man who hide behind a black screen. “So if I’m one of those people, then you’re like the poster boy of a gamer gatekeeper.”
“It’s not my fault other players are shit.” He breathed out.
“Oh yeah, the other players are shit; it totally isn’t you acting better than everyone.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, your tone teasing.
“I’m glad you agree,” he replied, letting out huffs of air through his nose.
It grew silent once more, and this time you weren’t uncomfortable with it, it had actually felt nice. Comfortable, even. Well at least as comfortable as it could get when you couldn’t see the other game but he could see you and all your mannerisms. You clasped your hands together, intertwining them, your attention focused on the black that took up nearly all of your screen, save for your own square that held you on the left hand corner.
“I think,” you started out, the words heavy on your lips, “I think I’m ready to say goodbye.” Once you started, you couldn’t stop. A part of you wished he would interrupt and maybe ask for your email or phone number so you could continue to keep in contact, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. Whatever this was, this odd one-sided friendship, stayed and died here. “It was fun talking to you. Even if you were a dick.” You gave the man a smile, you hoped that it was seen as happy, teasing one. “I liked this one-sided friendship. Even if it hadn’t lasted for long.” You bite down on your lips, your teeth dragging against your dry, bottom lip and you reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your chapstick, rubbing the tube with your fingers before clenching it in one hand. “It was nice knowing you Tomaraki. Take care, okay?”
You didn’t wait for his reply- you knew that you wouldn’t get one. You scrolled your mouse of to the telephone outline, and as you were about to click it, his voice rasped out, telling you to wait. Startled you pulled back, the mouse jerked downwards, moving past the outline and you stared at him, eyes wide and head cocked to the side, waiting for him to speak further.
He hadn’t known why he shouted for you to wait. He didn’t even want to talk to you in the first place, it was your promise that you would leave him alone that even convinced him to accept your request but here he was, barking at you to wait as you stared at him with owlish eyes and a closed mouth as you gave him the floor to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he sounded so frantic at the thought of you leaving and then quitting the game, any form of communication getting erased within minutes.
“I,” he started out, grateful that the screen was black on his end, his hands coming up to pick at his neck, “What’s that?” He was going to kick himself later, he was sure of it.
You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing before landing on the tube in your hand. “This?” You held the tube upright, a confused smile gracing your features. “It’s chapstick. It’s uh-” you turned the tube over, looking for the label where it stated its flavor- “It’s vanilla honey flavored.” You opened the tube and rubbed the chapstick on your lips, smacking them together. “Why? You looking for recommendations?”
He decided to go for a truth, knowing that it wouldn’t give anything away. “I have dry lips.”
“Oh.” You pursed your lips, and you scratched at the area where your jawline meets your neck. “I’m not knowledgeable about the different types of chapsticks, I usually like to get the ones that have a nice flavor. I had this peppermint one but I lost it. Are you drinking enough water? That should help too. You could also try lip scrubs. You don’t have to buy them, you could always make them at home but you’d need brown sugar for a rougher feel.” You rambled on, moving your hands around, and his eyes stayed trained at your moving hands, your voice growing distant. He could only hum in response as you continued to talk and mention stores that sold lip scrubs.
“Uh, Toma? You there?” You asked, your hands clenching and bringing them closer to your chest.
He raised his eyebrows at the sound of a nickname. “Toma?”
“Hah, uh yeah. Tomaraki is too long, I mean unless you want me to call you something else?” You seemed invested with continuing the conversation and he could understand why. You always craved attention- always undermined your skills, all so someone could praise you. But why did he want to continue this conversation? Was it simply because he had someone talk to him about mundane things, things that didn’t carry so much weight? Was it because you treated him as if he were a person first, rather than a villain?
“No. No I don’t mind.” His voice came out softer than he expecting, than you were expecting given that your eyes widen, your mouth pulled into an ‘o’ shape before you smiled gently at him, your lips turning slightly upwards.
“Okay.” You held your breath for a second. “Do you wanna call me by my name?” Your voice was soft, matching his tone from earlier.
He wanted to snap at you, asking why he would even want to but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know how to answer you without snapping. But you took pity on him, his silence deafening and you told him your name, you voice sweet and heating him up from within, the heat pooling in his stomach before travelling upwards into his chest, a momentary blast of warmth before it faded away. He tested your name on his tongue, the word heavy and foreign on his tongue. He repeated your name, the odd feeling being replaced by familiarity.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” You smiled, your tone playful but still soft, as you sank deeper into your mattress, your legs aching in protest from being in a still position for so long.
He didn’t have a comeback. He remained silent, repeating your name in his head, the tone of your voice when you asked him if he had wanted to know and when you spoke it, invading all of his thoughts.
“You know,” you started out, stifling a yawn behind a hand, “if you had wanted to continue this conversation you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind talking to you.”
“You’re tired.” He opted to avoid confirming or denying your accusation.
“It’s late, of course I’m tired.” He suddenly took notice of the way your eyes were starting to droop, how your eyes would widen, forcing them to stay open.
“You should go to bed.” His voice was stiff, he didn’t want to continue this conversation but he saw you frown, your lips downturned, noticing the difference in tone but you quickly smiled, any features of disappointment being erased.
“But this conversation was just getting good,” You whined, another yawn coming out, tears pricking your eyes. “Hey, I got a dumb idea,” you said.
“All your ideas are dumb,” he muttered underneath his breath, missing the fall of your face that disappeared before he could turn back.
“You want my number?” You ran a hand through your hair, swallowing deeply, your mouth suddenly dry and the chapstick on your lips too heavy. “If you want, of course. You don’t have to exchange yours. But you aren’t obligated to reply to me either. Obviously.”
He hesitated to answer; both to see you squirm in your seat but also because he was unsure. Did he want to continue this friendship that would only end sour, that wouldn’t progress further than what it already was. He reasoned to himself that if the friendship was going to stay stagnated, what was the harm of saying yes? What was the harm of talking to you a bit longer?
He nodded his head, only to realize that you couldn’t see him. The only reason you weren’t reporting him to the police, calling and screaming for heroes was because you couldn’t see him. A hand reached over to grab Father, his other hand tugging at the skin on his neck, feeling the cold air of the room sting at the raw flesh. Your reaction to his answer gave him an odd sense of pride on how you had swelled up, giving him a wide grin, the smile reaching your eyes and you sat up straighter, asking him if he was ready and you began to tell him your phone number, repeating it to make sure he had gotten it down correctly, the grin on your lips never leaving.
Ten minutes later, your account was deleted, all assets transferred over to Toma. Your eyes burned with sleep, the blankets on top of you suddenly weighed a ton, and right before you gave in to sleep, butterflies slowly started to form in your stomach.
In a dark room, only lit up by the screen of his phone, Shigaraki stays up, his eyes burning with the need for sleep as he just stares blankly at the your number. He wonders to himself why he had even agreed to accept your number, but he couldn’t go back in time and reject your offer- the most he could do was not message you. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back and forth between ignoring you tomorrow or attempt to have a conversation with you.
Tagged:
@rogueofbullshit
#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki tomura x reader#bnha shigaraki tomura#bnha shigaraki#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki x reader#i havent touched this in a while#i made a few changes to it#yikes#reading#its a slow burn for those who are interested#anyways#should have a new one shot in two days#so adios#ciays
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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫
a/n: finally i updated this lol. i hope you guys haven’t lost interest in this AU yet :( this took me two excruciating nights to write so it’d mean a lot if you’d leave any kind of feedback!! you know it makes it makes my hours of suffering worthy haha, anyways i hope you enjoy this, the next chapter will be very fun hehehe <3 (it’s 2am rn isn’t it great, enjoyyy;)
CHAPTER FIVE
It’s like a faint breath when he gradually breaks away from their kiss, ever so gingerly as his face swells into her cloudy vision. The droplets of rain that collapse onto her skin cause her to shiver, however her eyes strain on him. Deliberately she studies his tense features, drops of water glide down his breathtaking face, and Kangtae quips back from his stare that was directed behind her, his breathy voice matches her trembling breath.
“Are you okay?”
Her heart hammers in her chest as she blinks rapidly, Munyeong forces down a gulp. For the first time in her life she couldn’t think of a snarky comeback. What was she supposed to answer? I’m okay?
Shakily, she clutches onto the fabric of his shirt and her one-track mind blurts out.
“I’m hungry.”
-
A sharp ring blares into the silence as they step into the convenience store, decently warm air greets their entrance and passive employees don’t take note of their presence. Munyeong squeamishly glances around as she seats herself to an empty table he has brought her to. “When I told you I was hungry, I didn’t think you were going to bring me to this kind of place.”
Kangtae lets out a breath and retorts. “So you expected me to bring a fancy restaurant to you during this storm?”
She huffs, topping one leg across the other as she crosses her arms. “Forget it.”
Time ticks by as rain shatters against the glass plane walls− the store’s lambent light glows among the dark street, like a flame luring in any lone moth upon this thundering night. The lingering acidic fragrance of mopping detergent that mixes with fresh rain burns through her nose and frigid air coats her blistered skin- her damp clothes steering another wave of iciness to her numb body. Munyeong intensely studies his figure, daggering slits at every movement of his excruciatingly amiable composure, doubting how he could still be− whilst trains of endless thoughts ran through her wild mind, he had the audacity to be this calm.
Her skin crawled with impatience. Still she could not put a finger behind any of his deeds- sure she had noticed the factors that resonated with his extremely complicated personality, but none of them were in any way comprehensible. How could he be pushing her away one minute, then the next minute she sees him running towards her under the thrashing rain− kissing her?
Unforgivingly her mind muses back over to their stunt− his lips were soft, warm against the icy surroundings as he teeth relentlessly dragged across her lower lip. She scoffs at her thought, cheeks subconsciously burning and she focuses on planning her confrontation instead.
Despite her glowering stare, his negligence did not seem to demolish− Kangtae restlessly pours the hot water into both cups. Weighing his options of either waiting for it to cook at the table with her− that includes risking an opening for her to launch her interrogation, or he would rather stand at the counter. He chooses the latter.
To think about it, the only reason she was still even in her right mind was because of him. If he had not abandoned his interpretations to never see her again and rescue her from another imminent disaster, she would not stand the chance to live a normal life after seeing that vicious spirit. Notably, his stunt did a fairly good job at distracting her, however, yes, their incident earlier was a terrible mistake− in fact it was the gravest decision he had made during his 200 existing years− but what was he supposed to do? It was forbidden that he could harm any of the hotel’s guests, let alone she was the one who refused to follow through his instructions.
The clock ticks and Kangtae lets out a grunted sigh, picking both cups as he heads back to the grave he had solely dug. He can feel her broiling gaze as he slides into the opposite chair, her bickering follows shortly. “Aish, you didn’t even buy kimchi.”
Breaking apart the wooden chopsticks, Kangtae responds nonchalantly, avoiding any possible confrontation. He doesn’t have the energy to. “Just eat. You said you were hungry.”
Munyeong severely glares at him− he stirs his cup of noodles, elbows planted on the edge of the table as his drenched shirt clings onto his figure and if Munyeong was not so baffled at the moment, she would be giddily eating up the view of his toned muscles.
But she was baffled, everything he had done only assigned a new question to her brain. Yet he was speaking to her so casually, it only drags her mood to aggravation and her patience slips away like quicksand. Unraveling her arms, she leans forward, settling her elbows on the table, eyes gleaming and she releases her flaming curiosity.
"Do you like me?"
Instantaneously he freezes− Kangtae can't help but scoff. Surely he had expected her pretentiousness, although he did not predict it was this level. He sternly pierced eyes with her, tone laced with determination. "No, Ko Munyeong. I don’t like you. Don't be so delusional− "
"Me? Delusional? Not even an hour ago you were so concerned about getting me to leave, yet you were the one who ran up and kissed me−” Munyeong lashes out, eyes suddenly glinting as if she understood something. Her voice drops as she arches an eyebrow at him, words punched with emphasis. “Are you playing hard to get?"
Lost for words, Kangtae gapes, breaking away their stare as his jaw set into a sharp line. “No. Now could you−”
“If not, then what?” She cuts him off. That was the only reason that seemed to resolve his bizarre actions. “Why did you kiss me?”
Time stands still between them, a few seconds of deafening silence break with the heaving of her chest before he crudely bites out a response.
“A mistake. It was a mistake.”
She is not one gullible enough to believe his lie and Munyeong curses under her breath, the itch to rile him up until he is inescapable routes through her veins. Instead she roughly peels the lid off her bowl of now cold noodles, she feeds herself in a pace where it might give her a stomach ache but she doesn't care. At least the food was coping with one of her feelings. She’ll get him to answer anyway.
-
Collapsing into his arm chair, his agonizing groan breaks into the tight silence of his room. Fatigue washes down his aching body and Kangtae closes his eyes shut, head falling back.
“Sir.” Jinhyun’s voice emits as he hastily enters the room. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine. Inform the grim reapers about our lost guest,” He orders. “They’ll take care of it.” The older slowly nods, although his worry does not die down as he queries another question. “What about Ms. Ko?”
Kangtae hesitates. “She’s fine.”
Their conversation had ended abruptly after he bit out those words, she ignored him for the rest of their meal, and when he succeeded to get her a ride home, she brushed past him without a goodbye. He was thankful, really.
“Call her tomorrow and tell her I have a deal to offer.”
When Jinhyun dismisses himself, Kangtae sinks back into his chair, a long sigh bleeding from his chest. His intinctions tell him to push her away. But he couldn’t. Not until he ascertained how she saw− did such things. To his knowledge that tree was well dead for years, supposedly forever, let alone it was forbidden to be seen by mortals. Until her. Ko Munyeong, that illustrator. She sparked something that even he could not do.
His unsettling chest demands for an answer, and he knows exactly who he needs to confront. Mago.
taglist -> @truccieeboo @anotherdush @pig-on-acid @4everinbluejeans @pancat @lookingatthesunset @ourcoffeeaddictme @ailander @nothingcreativeyet @callmeashipper @evielovesfood @waywarm @hotstuff-benswolo @ewolfwitchwisegirl @gloster @mszelle
#it's okay to not be okay#psycho but it's okay#pbio fic#iotnbo fic#hotel moon light#hotel blue moon#hotel del luna#moon kang tae#moon gang tae#ko mun yeong#ko moon young#kim soohyun#seo yeaji
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My thoughts but mostly my feelings.
This is the 3rd time posting these. Idk how but they keep getting deleted. 3rd times the charm?
*****TROUBLED BLOOD SPOILERS AHEAD******
Okay so I am going to start with the non ship stuff first because once that begins I will become slightly incoherent lol
• I love Barclay. He is so freaking funny. His friendship with Robin is everything. “You need to learn to read the room, mate.” I think he will be coming for Ilsa’s number one spot on the “Cormoran & Robin Shipper” list soon.
• Speaking of Ilsa “It’s Robin’s birthday, you total dickhead.” I love it so much. Hoping for a miracle baby for her and Nick next book.
• I enjoyed the case. The characters seemed so developed and realistic. I really didn’t see the murderer coming. I also loved how it brought up why we trust certain people without a second thought.
• I had very few disappointments in this book (besides not having a kiss which I wasn’t truly expecting) but my 2 were
1. That Strike didn’t go to his Dad’s party. Idk I really wanted that for his character even if he ever does reconcile with him it won’t be at a public event, I just really wanted to him to go and of course bring Robin.
2. That Robin wasn’t at Joan’s funeral. The flowers were lovely though.
• Speaking of Joan <3 <3 <3 “I wish I had met your Robin.” I cried. I think it was really important for Strike to know Joan was proud of him and that he can think of that and her when he looks at the ocean.
• Delving in to Strike’s psyche more was amazing. Learning more about his childhood. His mixed emotions about Leda. Yes. Yes. Yes.
• I also loved Robin’s journey in this book. I’m also about to turn 29 and in a transition point in my life and how people kept saying “she was traveling in a different direction than the rest of us” really resonated with me.
• I’m super excited about Michelle joining the agency. Robin needs another female coworker. Speaking of, I love what Pat brings to the team, especially her dynamic with Strike.
• I CHEERED when Strike manipulated Creed like that will be awesome on screen.
OKAY NOW TO THE SHIP STUFF * cracks knuckles *
• I don’t think I have every loved a literary couple this much. The way JK manages to grow and develop their relationship each book sighhh
• THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I shouted “COMMUNICATE YOU IDIOTS” WHILE READING THIS BOOK lol but they do and when they do sighhhhh okay sorry can’t skip to the end
• I find it really funny that in a group chat on here I said I wanted holiday fluff L O L
• I was so upset for Robin on her 29th. I can’t believe he forgot but BOYYYY DID HE MAKE UP FOR IT
• Okay so let’s start the holiday fuck ups: Christmas
What a classic man. Waiting the last minute to buy presents and agonizing over it. Then he’s going to buy her perfume which just so happens is exactly what she wanted on her birthday (and yes he gets a major hint from Ilsa but still).
AND THEN HE PANICS because picking perfume for someone is pretty intimate and he was basically delirious because of fever AND HE GETS HER CHOCOLATES sighhhh I felt so bad for how stupid he was unknowingly being.
Her gift for him is so thoughtful and the only thing that cheers up his miserable Christmas <3
• Next, bloody Valentine’s Day:
What a disaster. Robin finally lets out her frustrations on him and I think he was genuinely shocked. She had NEVER said anything like that to him. Strike has said several times how he appreciates “Robin being the only woman in his life who wasn’t trying to change him.” He thought she had no complaints because she kept quiet. It wounds him.
“And don’t buy me any more fucking flowers!” I was so worried he would take this as wanting no romantic gestures but he didn’t <3 and they even joke about it later <3
Then he thinks women never want him to apologize first (really Cormoran???) and isn’t going to call first BUT HE DOES he calls and it’s kind of a lame apology but HE CALLS FIRST.
• The banter the entire book was amazing because GUYS THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS.
• TIME FOR CHAPTER 58: “Romantic Whiskey in the Dark” aka THE BEST CHAPTER TILL 73
The intimacy, honesty, and vulnerability of this scene * clutches chest *
“I’d like to go to the Ritz please”… lol little did we know
He finally tells her about his Dad and half siblings pestering him. He even tells her about his childhood (y’all I couldn’t believe it). Picturing young Cormoran with too short pants, anxious to meet his Dad, and then the crushing realization that he didn’t want to see him. Then him calling Strike an accident in front of him. My heart broke.
Robin FINALLY asks him about Charlotte and he tells her about her overdose and how much anxiety that was giving him.
I feel like typing Strike’s entire inner monologue starting with “How could he say, look, I’ve tried not to fancy you since you first took off your coat in this office…” but just do yourself a favor and read Chapter 58 again (I’ll be reading it & 73 at least 5 times each today lol).
Then he brings up Ilsa trying to set them up. * flails *
They talk about Matthew and Sarah because they are sharing. And guys, sharing is truly caringggg.
Then they have the conversation about wanting to have kids. (I have a few idk meta? thoughts about all the foreshadowing in this book about them having a kid together).
I absolutely love how Robin calls him out on his “self-indulgence.” I’m not saying Strike will ever change his mind about kids but I loved that she challenged his reasoning. They are so perfect together I swear.
Then he calls her his best friend. And Robin dies. And I DIED. It was so perfect and genuine. Her response was so cute because she was so taken aback.
EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT
Then they both start thinking about the bed that is MEARLY UPSTAIRS AND I THINK I PASSED OUT FOR A BIT.
Seriously guys CHAPTER 58 IS EVERYTHINGGGGG
• I loved how they had an honest conversation about Strike’s protectiveness of her while on the job.
• Strike chastising himself for considering/wanting to buy her a stuffed donkey <3
• “Ya but you’re exceptional.” He so casually makes Robin’s heart soar. It is perfect.
• OKAY I THINK I’M READY TO DISCUSS ROBIN’S 30TH
I NEVER and I mean NEVER COULD HAVE IMAGINED THIS FOR THEM
Back to Strike appreciating Robin “never wanting to change him” but then she tells him she hates when he’s late (andddd he’s on time NO DARE I SAY EARLY for their meetings for the rest of the book). She often feels underappreciated and wishes he would just make more of an effort. AND BOYYYY DOES HE EVER.
HE CHANGES GUYS… TO MAKE HER HAPPY “People can change. Or so a psychiatrist in Broadmoor told me.”
She thought he forgot again * cries *
He arranges for her to wake up to his donkey balloon and signs it “(Not flowers) Love Strike x” GUYSSSSS
Robin’s little tarot card read (WE NEED TO META THE CRAP OUT OF THIS)
T
hen they meet up and HE LETS HER PICK OUT HER PEFUME (what she has been searching for the entire book, the perfume that suits her new life and he buys it for her in the best possible way THE SYMBOLISM COROMORAN IS ONE WITH THE PERFUME THE PERFUME IS ONE WITH HIM * flails *) and HE ADMITS HE FUCKED UP GETTING IT FOR HER ON CHRISTMAS
SHE ASKS HIM TO HELP HER CHOOSE BEWTEEN THE LAST TWO AND HE CHOOSES THE ONE THAT REMINDS HIM OF SEX. I mean I never thought the description of “musky skin and bruised flowers” could be so sexy.
I DIEDDDDDDDD
THEN HE TAKES HER TO THE RITZ FOR CHAMPAGNE <3 <3 <3
ROBIN WAS SO SHOCKED BUT NOT AS SHOCKED AS ME
“Strike, said Robin, This is thoughtful.” Oh you mean just like you asked him to be? This is him trying. HE’S WOOING YOU ROBIN.
GUYS WHAT IF THE NEXT BOOK STARTS RIGHT AFTER THEIR DATE (yes it is totally a date) AND THEY HAVE SEX BECAUSE THAT WAS STRIKE FINALLY TRYING (and he changed his phone numberrrrr)
THAT WAS PEAK ROMANCE (I need fics).
I am seriously so happy with how far they have come together and super excited about their future <3
wow
If anybody read all of that message me so we can discuss (flail) together.
When do we get to read book 6??????
#take 3 lol#strellacott#cormoran x robin#cormoran strike#tb spoiler#tb#strike#strike x robin#i have a lot of feelings#otp: this is what i love#otp: youre exceptional
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HEADCANNON EXTRAVAGANZA TO BRING YOU SOME JOY
Family stuff
Vision talks to the twins while they are still in Wanda’s belly to get to know them before they are born. They aren’t as active as Florence but they still know that their daddy is there and respond in some way to his voice.
Vision always talks to his children as though they are grownups and almost never does the baby voice thing because he wants to treat them with the utmost respect. He’ll still attack them with kisses and cuddles and he’ll do the voice he does in episode three of Wandavision when he kisses Wanda’s belly. However, he’s never like, ok teeny weeny babies let’s put on our sockies and shoesies (no shame if anybody does this, I do this sometimes lol).
Wanda is super sweet on her kiddos but is not one to be fooled. Sometimes Vision can be naive but the kids have never even tried to pull a fast one on Wanda. She is a really loving mom and would never be verbally or physically abusive/ condescending/ rude but her kids know from the beginning to respect her. They also know that she will cut a bitch for them. Looking at you school bullies/ PTA moms/ homophobes.
Every week, they have family nights where everybody cuddles in the couch/ in Wanda and Vision’s bed. Because the boys are little it’s something suitable for them. When Wanda is pregnant she cries at whatever is going on in the movie and Vision holds back his laughter and puts on a supportive face. He and the boys attack (gently) her with kisses and hugs. The boys hold her face in their hands and look her right in the eyes and say “it’s ok mommy it’s just a movie don’t be sad” and give her a kiss. And she’s like “thank you mommy feels so much better now” and snuggles into Vision who rubs her belly soothingly and kisses her forehead.
When they are at the store, Wanda pushes the cart (like you said for balance) while one of the babies rides in the cart and Vision carries the other one. Billy and Wanda are singing wheels on the bus (he’s getting better with the words over time and he giggles and claps his hands). He knows not to kick his feet because his baby sister is still cooking and he doesn’t wanna hurt her. Vision is carrying Tommy in a baby bjorn and dancing with him/holding onto his hands/ singing a song from spongebob.
When they are out in public, the boys try to reach for everything and Wanda has trouble keeping up with them sometimes because she’s kind of waddle-running, so it’s Vision’s job for the most part to corral the boys. Wanda trades their cooperation for fruit snacks. By the end of a shopping trip, he’s not sure if Wanda or the boys are more tired and he knows that everybody probably needs a nap when they get home.
During Wanda’s pregnancies Vision does everything he can to make sure Wanda’s comfortable. He’s also obsessed with her so he’s always there anyway. It helps her back if she leans back against him, so they take up that position in the bath/ shower/ watching movies or TV in bed. Sometimes they just stand and away with her leaning back against him. Other times she bends over and holds onto his shoulders so she can stretch.
Wanda has fallen while adjusting to her new center of gravity during her pregnancies and Vision was terrified to leave her side after that. He wants to be there to protect her and the babies. He is worried about her falling and hurting herself or getting stuck in the tub regardless of whether or not she can use her magic to help herself.
Vision ties Wanda’s shoes during her pregnancies and when he’s getting back up he kisses her belly and her lips on the way.
Angst
Wanda has passed out from exhaustion/ dehydration when her morning sickness was especially bad. Vision was really scared when he found her laying on the bathroom/bedroom floor. Everything was ok in the end but she had to spend a couple of days in the hospital getting fluids and making sure the babies were ok. It was the most agonizing time in Vision’s life. He stayed home from missions until Wanda was well again.
Sometimes Wanda and Vision still have really bad nightmares. They get especially bad for both of them when Wanda is pregnant because things are changing and they always feel a bit helpless because they can never be 100% sure that everything is fine in the world. They take a lot of midnight showers and baths and have comfort sex to calm down. A lot of time is spent with their foreheads pressed together to ground them.
Vision has gotten kidnapped on a mission before and it took a week to get him back. He was seriously (not gravely) injured but when he woke up in a hospital bed, Wanda was asleep in a chair next to him with one hand in his and the other on her belly. When he rolled over to get a better view of her face, pain shot through him and he winced, waking Wanda up. She burst into tears and made him promise to always come back to her.
Wanda has also been kidnapped on a mission. Vision asked Pepper to watch the boys (who are a year old at this point) for a couple of days while he and the other Avengers find her. When they break into the facility where she is being held, it looks like she might be gravely injured at first. Her vitals are weak but she’s alive. When he takes her into his arms she groans but curls into him. At the hospital, she wakes up to Vision holding her hands and staring off into space. He almost looks like a broken man and when their eyes meet she can see how scared he was. They cry and kiss and revel in being together.
One time on a mission, they aren’t speaking because they’d been having an argument when they got called to headquarters. They still squeeze each other’s hands on the ride over but they are completely silent. During the fight, one of them goes down and the other is worried the last thing they said to each other was something stupid during a fight. Everyone lives and there’s some crazy hot “I thought I lost you” sex in the shower later but it was really scary.
They are both risk takers and would sacrifice themself to save others. They fight about the other one putting themself in harms way.
Wanda and Vision get very worried when the other is out on missions. When Wanda is pregnant she’s extra worried and waits at headquarters for the Quinjet to land to make sure she can see Vision step off. One time he flew separately for some reason and he saw Wanda sobbing on the landing pad and thought something was wrong with the babies. The other Avenger’s hadn’t gotten the chance to explain when Vision pulled her into his arms.
One time Wanda had to be carried off of the Quinjet and Vision staggered over to her. She gave him a pained but sly smile and teased him through her pain. Everything was ok but she needed him to stop worrying so that she could stop worrying.
Wanda’s hormones make her seriously jealous. Vision is a hot piece of ass and she’s always worrying that someone is going to try and snatch her man away. Or worse, that Vision will find someone better. She gets mad at him because she thinks the pizza delivery guy was flirting with him. He calms her and feeds her pizza and all is well.
Her jealousy has led to full fledged arguments. She demands proof of his fidelity and he is seriously hurt by the accusation and leaves the house for a couple of hours to cool off and have some time alone. She’s terrified that this will be the thing that breaks them even though he means everything to her. When he gets back, she throws herself at him and they have a long discussion about how her jealousy can get out of hand sometimes. He also takes his time explaining how in love with her he is, how there could never be anybody else for him, and makes love to her nice and slow in the shower. And then the bed. And then the bed again.
Cutesy
Wanda and Vision sing to the kiddos during bath time. Vision makes sure to sing to big bird as well when she’s cooking in Wanda’s belly.
Vision says good morning and goodnight to Wanda’s belly during her pregnancies.
In his sleep, Vision still rubs Wanda’s belly and tries to calm the baby if she’s being particularly active.
Wanda is the most adorable thing in the world to Vision. Especially when she is grumpy in the morning with bed head and waddling to the kitchen.
I hope these make you smile :)
PS: can you tell my favorite place for them to have sex is the shower???
These are fabulous and had me smiling the whole way through. Thank you for sharing them. They sound like they're pros at making shower sex super hot and I am here for it!
"Vision is a hot piece of ass" put this on my urn, please.
Ahh I loved these so so much. Again, thank you! I really am so glad to have something fun to read during these long nights of work.
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Which of your characters did you create first? Is that character significantly different now compared to when you first created them?
okay i wrote this at like 3am last night when i couldn't sleep and it makes absolutely no sense but i figured if there was anyone on this earth that would appreciate it, it might be you lol
It's kind of funny you should ask this because the last few days I've been reading the stuff I was writing when I first picked it back up this time last year and like. shit's changed a lot lol
Of like. the stuff I'm writing now uh TECHNICALLY Yixing came first because when I was first toying with the idea of running a dnd campaign of my own, I started coming up with some npcs just to like. get some inspiration I guess? (I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before...) So I didn't really have any ideas about a setting or a plot or anything but I had two very specific characters, and one of them was like. a classic drifter/outlaw type character. And his two defining features were that he had really long black hair and was covered head to toe in tattoos. And uh. Only one of those stuck lol (though in my dnd campaign he still does have the tats! And they are plot relevant lol) OH also it stands to say that in my campaign Yixing is a MONK WITH A GUN because he was originally a gunslinger but I didn't really like any of the way the gunslinger homebrew options worked, and a lot of them were basically monk adjacent so I turned him into a monk and made his fucking monastic weapon a GUN.
Also the other npc I made was a really bonkers woman that lives in the woods and thinks the world is about to end at any moment and is extremely magically adept and eats a whole lot of shrooms lmao. idk if she'll actually show up in the campaign but she has a character sheet ready just in case
anyway. Yes Yixing is WAY different. He still has the yeehaw flair but he was originally intended to be shady and self-serving and standoffish and the kind of person who will play all sides but still find a way to come out on top. (he is still like that in my campaign..... he's like a quadruple agent lmao SPOILER for my dnd campaign that nobody cares about: he CLAIMS to be working for Anwei but he's actually working for Ciaran who knows he's also working for Anwei but he's actually double-crossing them both AND someone else that he's working for because he has his own side hustle and honestly he may or may not end up being the actual Big Bad of the campaign. I don't know yet. I hope my sister isn't reading this lol) anyway again, in the context of my novel he's now only a little bit self-serving and he will probably complain if he's super inconvenienced by helping out other people but he's still going to do it. He's a GOOD PERSON and even though I still have an extremely detailed outline of the idea I had where the plot is basically the same but he's a real shithead instead, I can't bring myself to really entertain the idea because I like him being nice. :( the whole point is that he's been through hell and back and has had a really shitty life but still finds a way to be kind and to see the good in people in spite of it all!!!! I get like. really passionate about this. Like truly agonizing about it to no one but myself. I'm the one writing the damn thing I can do whatever I want so why do I care so much about an alternate reality where Yixing is a real bastard??? I do not know.
ANYWAY AGAIN. (now here is where we really lose the thread of the original question lol) This all goes back to dnd lol because as someone that is a hard atheist, it's like. tough for me to get into the whole uhhh god thing in fantasy settings (but in this case I'm talking dnd). Like they EXIST FOR REAL in the context of the game so when your cleric or paladin prays, someone is really listening. And I was like... hm. What if I want to write a campaign where they just aren't there? (and some of my friends said I couldn't because that's breaking the rules which is stupid.. I do what I want!!!) Or that they had otherwise abandoned humanity? So then because I played final fantasy x too much in my formative years, I had the idea of “what if the gods got really fucking mad about people forsaking religion and punished them?” which turned into “what if the gods just DIED suddenly and the world fell apart in the wake?” which turned into “what if the gods realized they sucked at their jobs and that humanity was unintentionally destroying itself so they made a pact to start over but when they tried to do just that, they accidentally killed themselves?” and that is........... mostly the so-called lore now (but there is definitely more but I can't say at this time because spoilers lol) uh. I forgot where I was going with this. OH. How the characters changed. WELL. Anwei has probably changed the least lol. She is still kind of mean and weird and thinks of herself and the others like her as Far Superior to everyone else, but she's no longer downright evil. At one point she was intended to be the villain!!! but I changed my mind because I love fellow mean lesbians so much. Also it was kind of uhh. low stakes with her as a villain/antagonist. She's a little shady and definitely still very manipulative and she gets mean when jealous but not like in her first iterations.... she does still sort of try to get yixing killed though lmao
Oh also Ciaran was the last of the three that I came up with lol which is funny considering he's like. such a big deal. The only reason he exists at all is because I wanted to come up with a real Corruption Arc kind of Guy because I am a big fan of those. Also I wanted the Big Bad in my campaign to be related somehow to the Big Good. And like. what better way to do that than siblings! And then I needed a way to make my Very Cool New npc connected to both of them somehow to make the whole uhhh revolver ocelot style mind games work so I sat down and was like. well. time to tell a tragic love story lol. soooooooooo uh Thank you dnd for inspiring me to write a trilogy of novels because I wanted to do a SINGLE basic worldbuilding exercise for my dnd campaign (that even now has only had uh. four sessions ever) while I was sad and lonely last summer.
I totally went off the rails with this question and I am sorry for that :( also I could write a thousand essays about how much I love Yixing and also how many versions of him there are in my mind lol he's like that one oc that everyone has that they find a way to put in everything always. he is my alternate universe oc. very versatile
#oc talk#really really really really went off the rails here#me at 3am: uhhhh what was the question again?#as i'm sitting there READING the question#i had a tough night sleeping last night lol#ALSO the thing about him being a bastard in an alternate reality is true yes but there's way more to it than just him being rude#which is why i cant bring myself to abandon that concept altogether but it's hard to make it work ._. i can't just mesh the two concepts#i mean. i guess i could but it would require a LOT of work and a huge conspiracy theory style corkboard. lots of red string
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BnHA Chapter 252: Suplex of Feels
Previously on BnHA: Deku, Kacchan, and Shouto visited Todobrook Heights one time, just the one!!, so of course it just so happened to also be the one time that Natsuo got straight up kidnapped by a villain for no reason because THAT’S JUST HOW LIFE GOES. Thankfully for Natsuo, the Terror Trio had kind of a Cinderella thing going on where if they didn’t beat a villain before Endeavor by midnight, their character development would turn back into a pumpkin, and I’m not really sure I stuck the landing on that metaphor but anyway! So Shouto used Flashfire to roast the villain alive, Deku used Blackwhip to save some hapless civilians who got caught in the crossfire of everything, and Kacchan used his cool fast explosions which don’t have a new name yet because he’s focused on more important things to rocket over and save Natsuo from becoming roadkill. And then Endeavor gave him and Natsuo a BIG OL’ HUG and my heart went, oh.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi grabs a handful of raw, squishy feels out of a bucket and just full on slaps me across the face with them. Endeavor has a moment of agonizing, excruciating vulnerability and apologizes to Natsuo for everything -- like, everything -- and says Natsuo doesn’t have to forgive him, and that in fact he doesn’t want him to forgive him, and that he just wants to atone for everything he’s done. And just, I can’t even describe the scene, but it’s just perfect down to the last detail, and exactly what I wanted. And meanwhile Deku, Shouto, and Kacchan stand there watching, and then Kacchan has a fucking epiphany and FINALLY DECIDES ON A HERO NAME!!, and I completely lose my goddamn mind, only to then be brought down to the lowest of lows when he immediately says that he’s not going to reveal it yet because THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE HE HAS TO TELL FIRST. So once I’m done sighing, we cut to later and Endeavor is all “Fuyumi I’m gonna buy a house for you guys so you can all live a happy life with your mom and never see me again,” and yeah. You guys I am in shambles.
hey everyone, whoever is doing Mangastream’s thumbnails every week deserves a raise though
especially since they’re not actually getting paid for it at all lol. their resolve to find the most ridiculous Kacchan expression every week and slap it on their home page is 100% a labor of love. AND IT SHOWS
lol and here I was half-worried the chapter would pick up after all the dust had settled, and we’d miss out on this glorious scene of Kacchan acting like he’s the goddamn wicked witch of the west and the sprinklers just turned on. anyways, I know what I’m thankful for this holiday
HAHAHAHAHA
I’D LIKE TO TAKE A MINUTE AND THANK ALL OF OUR SPONSORS AND OUR GREAT CREW WHO MADE THIS ALL POSSIBLE. SHOUT OUT TO ENDING, YOU’RE THE REAL MVP. BIG “HEY WHAT’S UP” TO TOUYA, WHO STRAIGHT UP DIED JUST SO ENDEAVOR COULD HAVE ANGST AT A CRITICAL MOMENT AND FORCE KACCHAN TO BE THE ONE TO SAVE NATSUO INSTEAD. AND A HUGE FUCKING “YOU THE MAN, BRO” TO THAT MORON SPEEDING BLINDLY IN THE TAXI CAB WHILE ON HIS PHONE AND NOT PAYING THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION TO THE ROAD IN FRONT OF HIM! WITHOUT YOUR RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY AND THAT OF OTHERS, THIS NEVER COULD HAVE HAPPENED. OH GOD, THEY’RE PLAYING THE MUSIC NOW, I GOTTA HURRY UP... AH... I’M SO GRATEFUL TO ALL MIGHT, GIVER OF SO MANY LEGENDARY HERO HUGS, AND TO SLIDIN’ GO, YES REALLY SLIDIN’ GO, WHO ESTABLISHED THIS GAG BACK IN CHAPTER 219. YOU BOTH WALKED SO ENDEAVOR COULD RUN. AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, TO HORIKOSHI KOUHEI, WHO IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DETERMINED TO HAVE EVERY PRO HERO IN THE COUNTRY HUG KACCHAN BEFORE THE SERIES IS OVER. YOUR TIRELESS EFFORTS ARE THE REASON I GET OUT OF BED EVERY MORNING. GOD BLESS YOU ALL AND GOOD NIGHT
anyway
sorry Kacchan this is just your life now. you’re just stuck here. by the way, Endeavor really is just an absolute MOUNTAIN of a man, though?? like, a whole, absolute unit. like remember a few chapters ago when I was joking about how he was eight feet tall? well Natsuo is 5’11” according to the wiki, and you can tell by looking at him that he is a solidly built guy. like, he eats his fucking Wheaties. and Endeavor is still able to FULLY WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND both him and Katsuki together WITH ROOM TO SPARE and just. ?????? WHAT EVEN IS THIS MAN good grief
anyway poor Natsu looks close to passing out though so maybe you fucking should let them go Endeav
SDLFKJSDLFKH
1) seriously though look at how big his hands are jesus christ is he even a human!?!?
and 2)!! the amount of sheer detail which was put into this panel, with the facial expressions and the shading and all, only for Katsuki to open his big fucking mouth with ABSOLUTELY NO REGARD! like, this could have been one of the most heartrending panels in the entire series. but instead it’s forever immortalized with Bakugou fucking Katsuki and his brutal fucking speech bubble interjecting with the most vicious insult his angry toddler brain could think of. this panel has the same energy as Deku receiving a heartfelt thank you letter from a child whose life he saved only to unfold it and read that iconic opening line, “SORRY FOR PUNCHING YOU IN THE BALLS LOL”
oh my
boy took matters into his own hands. after Enji just STRAIGHT UP IGNORED HIS PLEAS lmao. this entire chapter is a gift, and we’re only on the second page. also that katakana there is all “SUPON”, which I don’t know what that means, but I have to tell you that to me this felt more like a “ZWOOP.” but that’s just how I personally read it
eyyyyy and there’s our half-naked lukewarm boi
and look, I’m not advocating for Shouto to actually be walking around half naked, because this is a children’s manga and Shouto is just a baby, and that kind of thing is obviously inappropriate unless you’re [checks notes] one of his female classmates, who just like Shouto are also only teenagers, but it’s okay for them because they have boobs. hey wait
but anyway, I will say that I appreciate that his uniform really did burn off just as you would expect, and that he used his ice quirk to preserve his modesty lol. quick thinking on his part
meanwhile all the people Deku rescued are stumbling out of their cars nauseously and thanking him. I like how all of the other traffic on this highway has apparently just come to a halt now. I wonder if the Endeavormobile also came equipped with some traffic cones and road flares that launched out of the trunk along with the costumes
oh hey a BakuDeku interaction, don’t mind me, I’m just... [folds hands on desk and leans forward]
someone please tell me what he actually called Deku here because I’m dying to know. anyways whatever it was, “dumb-ku” is a great translation. it’s just the right amount of stupid and immature, and I love how Deku just fucking answers to it anyway like shrug, whatever
also love how the first thing Katsuki asks is whether anyone is hurt. swear to god this kid makes me love him more with each passing week
fond sigh
okay guys, I’m getting more and more excited here now, and let me explain why. it’s because Katsuki, despite having achieved (as Deku points out) a complete and perfect victory here, is very obviously agitated and angry still. and I think the reason for that is because even though he’s achieved the goal Endeavor set out for them, he still hasn’t achieved what he wanted from this internship. the other two have! Deku accomplished his goal of gaining more control over Blackwhip, and Shouto is now well on his way to mastering Flashfire. but Katsuki specifically came here with the intent of discovering something intangible that he couldn’t put a name to. and even though he’s gotten stronger just like the others, he still hasn’t achieved what he set out to do yet, and I think he’s getting frustrated by it. and the reason I’m so excited is because I think we’re inching closer and closer to seeing that finally get resolved. ahhhhhhh
(ETA: THIS CHAPTER IS THE MONKEY’S PAW WISH OF CHAPTERS.)
anyway I’ll shut up now and read. here’s Katsuki bragging to Endeavor, and Endeavor doing his best All Might impression what the fuck
that line could have come straight out of All Might’s mouth and it would have sounded 100% natural. well everyone, we did it. we fucking broke Endeavor. I hope you’re happy. lol what the fuck is happening what is this
DFKLSLDGHK
I fucking see those wobbly speech bubbles Endeavor, are you crying, because -- !! holy shit this chapter is taking my emotions all over the place
lol Kacchan’s pissed off that Endeavor isn’t more pissed off about being shown up by some punk kids
Deku’s eyes. this chapter. I just
ohhhhhhhhhhhh shit here we go
for everyone out there who was worried that Natsu would just forgive Endeavor outright after the events of this chapter, I think we’ve arrived at the part where your fears are assuaged. I pretty much expected this was how it would go down, because for all the criticism he’s been getting week after week, Horikoshi has been writing the Todorokis realistically and consistently throughout this entire arc, and this was the natural conclusion based on what we’ve seen up till now. Natsuo won’t just forgive Endeavor just like that, because why would he? and Endeavor just has to deal with it. and it’s all very sad and painfully real
SON OF A BITCH
the fucking words “I’m sorry” really just came out of his mouth at last, holy shit. this is the first time, right? as far as I can recall, anyway. oh shit
oh shit
my fucking jaw. just dropped. just. fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this. sure Enji, just go ahead and pour your heart out. lord
imagine if his voice actor goes all out in this scene like Katsuki’s did in episode 61. holy shit, I never thought the thing that destroyed me would be a sad confession in a fucking shounen manga by the character I used to despise. life is funny
ohhhhhhhhhh
[awkward glance around the fandom] soooo. how’s everybody doing? aheh. [coughs]
oh shiiiiiiIIIIItttt
oh look at that, Endeavor didn’t actually murder his child, who could have predicted that. but maybe I’ll just shut up now though since I’m not here to start any shit
and the pain train to feels junction just keeps on chugging. fuck
YOU SEE!! BRUTAL!! RUTHLESS!! SO REALISTIC IT HURTS. Endeavor is genuinely sorry, but it’s all coming way too late to be of any use! and Natsuo is so pained because he honestly probably would like nothing more than to be able to forgive his dad, and for them to all just be a happy, normal, loving family again, but he can’t. because they’re not. and apologies can’t erase the past, or make up for it. there is no way to change what happened. Touya’s still dead, and the scars from all those years of neglect and abuse are still fucking there, and they’re not just going to go away, even if Enji is remorseful. Enji becoming a good man now doesn’t make up for all the years that he wasn’t! he can’t just undo it! and that’s the tragedy of it!! you feel so bad for the man -- or at least, I do -- but at the same time, part of the atonement process is to accept the consequences of everything he did!
and also, for everyone saying he hasn’t faced any actual consequences yet -- one person in particular sent me a very detailed and thoughtful ask, which I apologize for not responding to yet -- I say this with all due respect: there. look. there are your consequences, right there. everything he will never have. everything he can’t salvage. the pain of knowing he was the cause of all this. the pain of seeing the misery in his son’s eyes and knowing he can’t fix it, and knowing the hurt he’s caused to the ones he loved most. that is karma. that’s a fucking punishment. that’s an agony beyond any physical torture that anyone could ever possibly dream up. his punishment is that after all these years, he finally gets to feel all of the suffering he’s inflicted on them, and he’d do anything to take it back now, but he can’t. that’s it! and we all fucking hate it, and no one is happy! and it’s not fucking fair! haha! but that’s how it fucking is, though. and I swear to god, I keep saying it, but it’s some of the most brutally realistic shit I’ve ever seen in a fucking manga. fuck
anyways, I need to stop monologuing or else I’m never going to finish this fucking chapter, but rest assured my soul is being ripped the fuck apart. hmm
:’)
(ETA: note the conspicuous lack of a Kacchan reaction panel directly after the “I’m never gonna forgive you” panel. everyone else gets one. but not him. in fact, there are no more reaction panels of him until this speech ends, and then we get one zoomed far away where we can’t really see his face. but I’m sure that’s all just a coincidence and means absolutely nothing! oh baby. what a chapter.)
:’)))))))
by the way, quick shoutout to that person in the taxi giving them the Rock Lee Eyes and having just no idea what the fuck is going on sob. thanks to you for keeping me from breaking into full on sobs here. I’m holding it together for you, random deer-in-headlights citizen
[INHALES!!!]
that’s it. I don’t. fuck. anyways. I ranted about all my feelings already, so just. ... you all get it by this point, right?
oh Kacchan. penny for your thoughts. I’m almost done with that essay I keep rewriting. you have a lot to think about right now huh
and Shouto. oh Shouto. safe to say this is a side of his father he’s never seen nor imagined he would see before
YOU GUYS THIS IS SO FUCKING IMPORTANT THOUGH, SHIT
[GRABS THIS PANEL AND FRANTICALLY WAVES IT ALL OVER THE BNHA TAG] I’M!!! JUST!!! SAYING!!! THOUGH!!!!!!!
oh, we’re still going? SURE WHY THE FUCK NOT
WHATEVER HORIKOSHI!!! JUST KEEP COMING AT ME, THEN!! GO AHEAD AND FINISH ME OFF WITH A FUCKING SUPLEX OF FEELS!! YOU SON OF A BITCH
and now Ending’s freaking the fuck out and screaming for Endeavor to stop. lol it’s like the villain version of Can’t Ya See-Kun. Endeavor you jackhole, this isn’t on brand! CUT IT OUT
forget it, Jake. it’s Character Development
now the police are arriving and Deku’s like THANK GOODNESS because the awkwardness was about to go critical here. meanwhile, pay no attention to how Katsuki is staring at him despite having no real reason to be in this panel!
[sidles up next to Kacchan] so hey fella. did any of that hit a nerve, perchance. did it open any metaphorical eyes. dust off any momentous revelations that you’ve been valiantly trying to keep shelved in your mental basement. have the SEEDS of your PERSONAL GROWTH been CULTIVATED. are the JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES of NOT BEING A DICK knocking at your inner door!?
anyway so now we’re cutting to Endeavor talking with the authorities while Chauffeur Armstrong tells him he needs to watch his back
friendly reminder that a bearded hermit flew around town on a glass hoverchair singing a song about Endeavor bringing darkness to the world or some shit not too long ago. that’s still a thing! better watch it Enji
HOLY FUCKARONI
(ETA: shoutout to that “neither does the light” line because that’s some straight up Harry Potter quotable bullshit and I love it and Endeavor’s character development continues to slay me that is all.)
FUCKING!!! CHRIST!!! OH GOD!!! OH JESUS!!!!
HMGGHHHHAAAA SOMEONE HELP ME OH MY GOD I’M SHAKING, AHHHHHHH
(ETA: listen you guys, in all of my “!!!!” I didn’t stop to appreciate all of the other things about this scene. but Shouto has changed into his hero costume which is a great little detail that I love because he obviously didn’t feel like standing around freezing his butt off and being oggled by the crowd. and then we have Natsu coming over to thank them all for saving his life, which is great, and he’s such a sweetheart. and then Deku actually saying “Bakugou” for probably the first and only time in his life lmao. and then, finally, his fucking face when he realizes Kacchan has finally chosen a hero name. he’s fucking ecstatic. he can’t wait!! anyway so Deku is me.)
NO BUT I’M FULLY SERIOUS YOU GUYS, I’M TREMBLING LIKE A FUCKING LEAF, IT’S PROBABLY THE CAFFEINE IN ME BUT STILL, OH MY GOD, I’M PARALYZED, I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN, MY HEART IS POUNDING, MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO BE FOREVER CHANGED, OH FUCKSTICKS, OH SHIT
NOOOOOOOOOOO
FUCK MY FUCKING -- WHERE IS HAWKS!!?!? WHERE IS HE!?!? I SWEAR TO GOD IF THAT FUCKING MAGPIE DOESN’T SWOOP DOWN RIGHT THE FUCK NOW WITH JEANIST IN TOW ALL “HAHA IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING” I’M GOING TO --
(ETA: but lmao at the fact that Shouto was all “okay, so you’re not going to tell him, but what about me, your Best Friend?” like he really heard “DROP DEAD ASSHOLE” and thought “well, that was Midoriya though, LET ME TAKE A STAB AT IT.” this is the most earnest child in the universe and this OT3 continues to bring me boundless joy.)
FUCK
LISTEN YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT TODODRAMA, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO ME!! I’M A HUMAN BEING!! IF YOU CUT ME I BLEED!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS. I’M GOING TO STRAIGHT UP CRY ALL OVER AGAIN YOU HEARTLESS PIECE OF SHIT
looool
“and his friends.” you hear that, Kacchan. now COME BACK OUT HERE AND TELL US YOUR HERO NAME RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN!!!
Endeavor you better save this chapter. I’m counting on you dog
oh. oh shit
hahaha. well fuck
first of all, look at Mr. “la dee dah I’m just going to build my family a new house on a whim because I’m so fucking rich” over here, like, damn, Endeavor. and second of all my heart is just a bludgeoned hemorrhaging mass of feels at this point and I’m not even going to try to salvage it. and third of all, this is exactly the type of resolution I wanted, pain and all, and I’m so goddamn satisfied with it it’s almost ridiculous. because the man fucking gets it. for everyone who continues to doubt Endeavor’s intentions, look no fucking further than this. this isn’t a narcissist trying to gaslight his victims and get back in his family’s good graces and make it all about him yet again. this is a man who understands that the best thing for his family right now is for them to be allowed to piece their lives back together without him. and so he’s enabling them to do that, and voluntarily stepping out of the picture while still providing for them. and damn but I respect that so much. fuck yeah, Enji. this was the right thing to do. it doesn’t make up for all the mistakes you’ve made, because nothing can do that. but you’re a better man now, and this right here is exactly the type of thing people mean when they say actions speak louder than words. so, respect
and that’s it! we’ve officially experienced all of the human emotions in this chapter! oh and also that’s it, as in the chapter is done. so yeah. well that sure was a whirlwind now wasn’t it
#bnha 252#endeavor#bakugou katsuki#todoroki natsuo#todoroki shouto#midoriya izuku#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#makeste reads bnha#lol I couldn't think of any funny tags on account of ALL THE FEELS STILL HAVING THEIR WAY WITH ME#if anything comes to mind later I'll edit this#this chapter hit me like a sock full of loose change#just#I need a minute
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how do you think 365 dni compares to movies like 50 shades and after?
Why thank you for asking--
I would say that there is a single similarity, which is that they do stem, if not directly, then tangentially from the general fanfiction-turned-romance novel tradition that has existed for a while but really took off after Twilight. While you can point to Harry Potter inspiring YA fanfic-turned-novels like The Mortal Instruments, Twilight’s impact has really been a lot greater because I think it gave aspiring romance novelists a place to play. And since romance is one of the biggest (if not the biggest) publishing categories in terms of $$$, it makes sense that publishers saw an opportunity to make money off of popular fanfic. This is where 50 got popular, as we all know, and other romance novelists like Christina Lauren, to name a bestseller, cut their teeth on Twilight fanfic.
Then, that gave way to Wattpad and 1D, which is where After came in. I’m not sure exactly where 365 drew from, but it’s definitely at the minimum taking from a lot of mafioso fanfic AUs. And ultimately, fanfic, and in turn crystallized romance novels, are at their heart wish fulfillment scenarios. In romance, that’s usually wish fulfillment not just for the characters you like (as with fanfic) but for yourself.
I think that the biggest issues with After and 50, before we even get into the heroes, are the heroines? Because there is nothing fun about Ana; Tessa in After is MILDLY better, especially in After We Collided wherein she has a bit more fun... but she still sucks. Both Ana and Tessa are excessively passive and accepting of not only poor treatment, but frankly mediocre sex? Lol. I mean, 50 suffers a lot from Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson hating each other in a not good way, but After suffers from both a lack of chemistry and like... not even a sexual gimmick lol. Am I really supposed to buy this 19 year old boy as a sexual dynamo? Sure. But I digress. Ana and Tessa are quite dull, and I cannot find any way to relate to them.
Laura? Laura is FUCKING AMAZING. She’s introduced to as us this Business Bitch, and sure, there’s nothing substantive there, but it makes a lot more sense to me than Ana being given a job by her boyfriend and then being treated like she earned it. Laura comes off as older, more mature--you’re really given a reason to believe that she’s bored with life. Her boyfriend sucks. She’s sexually unsatisfied, but certainly takes matters into her own hands (I don’t think Ana or Tessa ever masturbated onscreen lol, which seems a bit? Odd? In “erotic dramas”). And she’s FUNNY. That’s one of the main reasons I love Laura. She’s kinda ridiculous. She wanders about in her sequin caftan, clearly hoping to get kidnapped (which really sets the tone for the movie.... if you were taking this seriously after that, I don’t know what’s wrong with you and your ability to have fun). She takes control of her Beauty and the Beast inspired dinner with Massimo. She gives him shit all the time, trots off the tarmac like she’s going to walk to Rome, jumps in a fountain just to give him shit. In the final 50 Shades movie, Christian tells Ana that she’s topping from the bottom. But you never see that. I see it in Laura pressing Massimo’s buttons, in her scoffing at him whenever he tries to throw his weight around. She’s never afraid of this guy for real, lol, and it’s very clear in her face.
She’s also a much more sexually engaged heroine. There’s a lot of......... Like, I won’t say that 365 is nearly as kinky as it could get, OBVIOUSLY lol. But it’s definitely kinkier than the supposed kinkfest that is 50, just in terms of its dynamic. And I love that Laura is allowed to be kinky, in particular. She clearly enjoys sex that isn’t always incredibly tender; she enjoys watching Massimo get a blow job from another woman. Both 50 Shades and After are remarkably straightforward and traditional in their depictions of what “healthy” sex looks like.
But of course, the point of 365 is not to depict a healthy and normal relationships lol. It’s to fulfill a specific type of fantasy. Sometimes, you kind of want to get kidnapped. Not literally kidnapped, obviously. But the idea of giving up control and having decisions made for you and being pampered by some rich hot guy who fucks you all over his boat is not bad. And this is where 365 succeeds so well compared to 50 and After. The latter two movies just have this constant stream of boring drama, inauthentic drama, just this guy and his bullshit problems that are, in both films might I add, CONNECTED TO HIS POOR MOTHER. Whereas Massimo literally has to bend to Laura’s will and “become gentle for her”, while also maintaining his position as an archetype. Honestly, aside from the general conceit and the ending, 365 is pretty much angst-free. Laura goes on shopping trips. Laura has great sex. Laura eats and naps whenever she wants and has someone hang onto her every word and need and desire.
The thing is, too, lol--even when Laura does have some angst, she easily has a superior friend to any meager cardboard stand-in seen in 50 and After. Olga is FUN! They have a legitimate spa day montage after Laura has spent hours bitching about her stupid boyfriend. Olga is also the only character who’s like, this shit is INSANE. Olga is fabulous.
Finally, 365 is a movie focused on the female gaze to the nth degree, and we need more of that. The camera worships Michele’s body; it zeroes in on his ass, his abs, his sexual pleasure. Even when Laura is chained to the bed and wearing a spreader bar, she’s less naked than he is. Compare this to 50 in particular, where we saw so little of Jamie and so much of Dakota, in a movie supposedly targeting people who are into men.
It’s just a FUN movie. So much fun. And that’s where After and 50 fail so hard, imo; they’re just kind of agonizing and the female protagonist really doesn’t even get cookies for her time in either of them.
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even more prompts catchup
April 5th: What was school like for you, or what is it currently like for you if you are still in school? Elementary, high school, post-secondary?
i Hate/d school lmfao......like i do Like To Learn and Know Shit, and of course Sometimes / on some occasions it was like, hey i'm having a good to pretty great time at school, but those were usually Special occasions or teachers going out of their way to give us you know, fun projects / go beyond the Standardized Testing curriculum, which natch they couldn't always do / did require sort of going Above & Beyond, rather than being the constant, guaranteed experience of like hooray for school......it's like, oh hooray re: the Play Scenes my fourth grade english class did that was like, an Extra thing, where we got to audition and i just had a great time like oh right, clearly Theatre in retrospect, or hooray re: the field trips, or projects we did In Class, since i hated homework.......i was always that accursed (i mean, not accursed for Me, but) combination of "really a terrible student but also gets great grades" lmao i forever do things Last Minute but like, when i was At school, in class, i'd just power through whatever work there was then & there usually, and in middle school would sometimes do hw on the bus, as i was the last on the bus route to be picked up in the morning or dropped off in the afternoon, but as soon as i got home i was in Home Mode and yknow. didn't just sit down and continue School Stuff asap. also hardly ever Studying unless it's the night / morning before a test lmfao but i had a great memory for that stuff, so studying that last minute was like "yep, i Do remember this from going over it 2 seconds ago" so yknow, despite hating school / no good Study Habits(tm) or anything, i did fine. i also read a ton, at home or at school and at any other point. so i was also like, quiet and generally ~well behaved~ or whatever lol (the like "how are kids (or anyone) supposed to stay focused and on task for 7+ hours a day..." thing), segue into next paragraph
i also remember like, 3 day a week preschool being the first time i was, you know, in some sort of School and also around other kids that much, i did have this sense that like, somehow there were Rules that i wasn't following, not re: Classroom Rules or something, but wrt socializing with peers, like that everyone else had something going on in how they interacted which i wasn't gonna get right, & i had this sense of like, not really being Allowed to interact lmao, even being 4 years old i have a few distinct memories re: this of like, a) choosing to play by myself in the classroom or when outside, and b) my "best friend" being the one person who just like, chose to hang out with me lmfao, but i was like oh cool Having A Friend lmao, like i didn't Not want to have friends, i was just already aware of like, i don't feel like i can just up and interact w/these people and i don't feel like they want me to, and c) re: that being aware of whatever Rules Of Interaction existing and that i wouldn't meet them / abide by them and thus there'd be some kind of repercussion for not meeting those rules, and not being allowed, i remember that like. there was this other indoor playspace in the lower level and there were toys i wanted to play with but Refrained from, and it was like, why did 4 yr old me get the idea i Wasn't Really Allowed, and most of what i can theorize is that it was like, well other kids might want to play with that, and the Normal / Better kids should get priority lmao, and/or being nervous that it just might otherwise lead to some sort of Interaction i wouldn't feel ready for.....and d) sitting at a table with like whatever 4 or 5 other kids or something and amongst ourselves someone was like "oh put your foot in the middle if you're [x]" and i tried to join in on a technicality lmfao and also just in, you know, active efforts to be Participating with these other kids on their terms, and it did not pay off, something that repeated uhhhhh, forever i guess lol. insert that post like can allistic people be normal for 5 seconds.....
like in elementary school i wasn't really making friends either, incredibly, i was Amicably Tolerated by many people then & like, again also at any point after at least lmao (and it helps that i was generally in teachers' good graces, not that i narced on anyone ever, but i had like, my Niche as the Academically Successful One, and also i was the kid who draws, another shoutout to some post and tweet about how being The Drawing Kid was like, some measure of respect but also disdain lmfao...) and sometimes people would again like. choose to interact with me repeatedly, and i'd sort of be nonplussed at best b/c it's like, okay thanks but in this situation i didn't Choose this any more than i choose [Trying to be in the group but being rejected/excluded], so it's kinda weird, i was friends with someone for a few years in elementary school but we just were Coincidentally in the same class for those years, when we were in different classes in 3rd or 4th grade and just weren't seeing each other it fizzled out, in middle school i made another couple friends where we were all being Funny lmao, but i didn't go to high school, so once again we weren't seeing each other, and [At School] was where i always had most Interactions with people, didn't see people much outside of school even if we were hanging out / being friends During school, for [a whole tangent] reasons, so. guess the good news is i'm still in touch / friendly acquaintances with some people from school from college, but even then, there was Some more social success or whatever, but not all That much, and i was still unhappy like, not having many friends, often being like "i'm going to the cafe a block away b/c i have no social occasions here and i want to get out of the dorm / be around people," that if i was with more than one other person i could end up the third wheel friend lmao or nobody is paying attention when you talk or oh no i put myself out there hanging with a friend group but maybe people thought you were a joke or something, thanks. smh
and that like, speaking of college, i went early but this was, for my part, truly primarily driven like "well i hate school so if i can Not go to high school, okay" and like, while i got in and everything it was still like "tf is college, i've never known what i Want To Do so i wonder if i'll figure this out, but i'm not expecting to last past the first semester / year b/c this is college and i'm a terrible student actually lol" but then turns out i kept doing well enough like A's & B's like oh woops i guess i'm still here, then, hope i can figure out what tf "credit hours" means (finally did lol).....then sophomore year was a bunch of just Agonizing over "what tf do i major in," something i never figured out, wherein i might bring something up & it got parentally shot down like "never heard you talk about that" like what tf Did you hear me talk about? are you thinking i had my life figured out by age 9, b/c i didn't think that, i'm only 15/16 even Now, even being the Regular college age it's like, nobody's figuring their life out then. also i didn't tell my parents things, so. and then i settle on something that sure, Might've been of interest, but also it was like, a) a program that barely existed and req'd taking classes at a like 30 min away campus and also the head of department had Just retired and the most heinous teacher in the related fields was now in charge, brilliant and b) the sort of thing you'd just wanna start taking prerequisites for like as soon as you set foot on campus, like, great. and c) i was like, hardly feeling all the Academic Ambition anyway b/c i never had, b/c i hate/d school, and b/c i still didn't Know what i wanted to major in, and i was stressed n depressed and also realizing oh right, i'm not cishet, and oh right, i'm never going to get along with my family b/c [long tangent] reasons and that's kind of concerning, here i am impending Being 18 and like, how do i get out of this b/c it's becoming clearer that i'm not just gonna start getting along with the 'rents now that i'm not an elementary schooler and also now that i'm realizing the Reasons being at home sucks. guess i learned stuff in college lol but also it was like, the experience of getting to be Away From Home and existing every day without parents literally / figuratively over my shoulder at some point every day, and getting to do shit on my own and figure things out while Not At Home.....i also had a lot of fun taking a couple classes from this one music prof lol. he was this weird really enthusiastic and really knowledgeable guy lmao like great, these evening classes where we go over to the arts building and he plays things on the piano off the cuff and tells a lot of tangential stories while we're learning about like, beethoven technically, or folk music. didn't need those classes but they were great, i've had these teachers who were totally into whatever they were teaching and had a great time with that
also acknowledgment to the fact i was a No Extracurriculars person all through school, k thru 6 and college alike really, although i took dance class for that k thru 6 period, just that was separate from school actually (and another fun "being away from home" thing and Theatresque performance thing i enjoyed) but besides that it was like, how do i figure out what i want to do without committing to joining this whole thing, i don't know How to sign up for stuff really either, and it'd probably entail "asking for stuff" and needing to coordinate more rides and etc and that's just a hassle, and i wanna go home from school asap anyways, and then like, when it came to college, i was again at first thinking like "well idk what i'm doing and i hate homework so i'll probably mess it up in this first year anyways" and figured that doing anything Extra outside classes was just gonna be too much, and also, it's like, i've never been in these kinds of groups before and why am i gonna start in college, where there'll probably be all these people who Have done this stuff before, and are also 18? e.g. even though it was like "hey you're away from home and don't have to ask/tell anyone else anything to do this club stuff or whatever!" supposed ideal environment for trying stuff out, it was like, maybe i'm theoretically interested in auditioning for the fall theatre production, but the last acting experience i had was like, "2 month drama class in middle school" or "that 4th grade [section of a] play" so like, not really Any education or experience or Training re: any of that stuff, and a bunch of 18 yr olds who might've, or [age peers] who were theatre people who had already done stuff so they weren't getting Lead Roles or anything but they were getting cast / taking classes / joining an a capella group while i'm like right on, i'm over here with some sort of Grade Honor Society (??) saying my gpa qualifies me to join and be able to experience some further academic rigor/requirements lmfao and i'm like absolutely not. get away lol. anyways so bit of a chaotique Post K12 Zone Education Experience there lmfao, all kinds of things i'd Like to Learn and even take classes on, but didn't like, right i love learning languages but never took classes, love math and shit but only got to a certain level of calc and even then seemed to miss some Lore, never did anything re: theatre, etc and so on. so you wonder if some advantages re: high school would be like, more chances for those extracurriculars (or regular curriculars) but, as though i wouldn't have the same qualms about getting in on any of it, and as if i wouldn't've still hated school but also still been at home, F. and i think people can be a lot more normal to each other when it's college and you're Not stuck in one building together 8 hours a day lmao, got some gentle "occasional Bullying style attention" in middle school, but had juuust enough like, [that Niche of good grades / kid who draws] and people who Were friendlier to me that it was you know, unpleasant, but didn't have to be that huge a deal, and then i was outta there soon enough. also, in college many people are 18 or older, as opposed to 11 to 13. anyways the rest of my school story was that in the end the problems were "i don't know what i want to major in and also now's a worse time than ever b/c i've realized my existence At Home is untenable, and naturally i am quite depressed & stressed about things, and i gotta say absolutely virtually every adult presence was either totally unhelpful to Counterproductive here lmao, like, not much anyone could do really but it's helpful when someone is like, i'll treat you like a person vs simply just going 'uh why are you not doing the academic stuff good enough'" lmfao like. the whole time Not having friends i'd wanna talk to through class and happening to get good grades in part b/c i somehow Could as easily as i did and also i was afraid of getting C's or worse b/c "tfw i wasn't even yet in a grade that gave you A thru F grades yet but my older sister caught shit for getting a C
like :/" and etc means adults are like My Student Is Fine, and also, what are you gonna do even if they aren't, i guess. i just had to figure out completely for myself Why and How i really wasn't Fine and that was quite difficult and also took a long time. then there was a mutual prank of "i drop out of college at the tail end of things" and "now i have to be at home with parent/s more resentful of your obvious Waywardness (insert: not being cishet, and the fact it occurs to me that my being autistic was always causing 'problem' behavior i was getting shit for like, the whole time lmfao, even if nobody knew / labeled it like oh this is for ND reasons, or if it was both true i tried to come out (smh, thought i Had to b/c that was part of Not Being Cishet) and it was simply ignored / unaddressed and yet it sure fueled further specific resentment of my not Performing Gender properly, or "worse," so that went well, in that i eventually abruptly left and did not maintain contact, in the interest of "the levels to which i was thriving was like, that if i bailed and like died 50 hrs later it'd still be what i want to do," true to that i did not / don't regret it. and what do you know, i was first able to bail to a relatively nearby friend from college's home, whose family also liked me lmao. shoutout to school still being where i made Any friends, except a friend i made who was a coworker of several years. and Online Friends, which, another school connection, that like, i can more readily Connect w/people via talking about interests, something that happened Sometimes at school in person lmao but not much, but also that i Talk About Interests in a way through Drawing, which, well shoutout to doodling in the margins of papers throughout school lmfao, it didn't hurt! that's my saga.
oh and that footnote, i also really enjoyed the "in middle school you either take language classes or 4 Electives you rotate through each year" and those electives sure featured some more varied and hands on activities i had a great time with. shoutout to like, cooking, and to shop class, my Car Designs were great apparently, idk how. shoutout to my Intuition re: engineering or something lmaoo.....very fun to just end the schoolday in that big garage space where you could actually open that garage door right to where all the buses were, beautiful. Oh, and that's another footnote, when my last class of the day in 8th grade was english, i'd sometimes finish work early and my teacher would let me go to our spacious library, with the v nice librarian who'd recommend books to me she thought should be checked out more often b/c she knew i liked to read that much, and also just generally had teachers / other adult staff kinda wandering in at the end of the day, talk about "i don't really relate to other ppl my age" where i did generally prefer to be around adults, so that was fun. oh and also shoutout to hating school lmao wherein during like, middle school when the schoolday started at like 7:30am or smthing disgusting and i just learned to like, view whatever time it was in a "at least it's almost [x]" like well okay, first period is math and that kinda sucks but at least once it's over this hardest part of the day will be over, then next class is kinda more chill at least, and then it'll be the last period before lunch, etc etc etc where i could sort of keep up that stamina like telling myself at any point it was Almost [a more encouraging time of day] lmao like. kinda fucked up to have to be dragging yourself through the weekdays like that, but
Oh! goddamn and i didn't even get into that if i ever got in ~trouble~ in elementary school it was stuff like Not Paying Attention, but where half the time that might be some other kid beside me messing around lmfao and i'm not gonna be like "uhhh follow the rules!!!" (and that even when i was In Trouble like go sit in the chair where you have to be quiet there for like 10 min i might say something to some other kid in that zone and they'd be like "um it's the quiet chair you have to be quiet!!" or "uh we're getting into the next lesson and you have to put that book back asap" like wow these other kids are dweebs about Rules lmfao) and there'd just be times like, it's 1st grade and i know how to read pretty well already but we're going over the alphabet like stoppp i know the Phonics already........or the ways ND people can kind of Intuit some stuff more successfully, like in third grade learning multiplication i neverrrrr studied but just broke it down like, okay i remember the Fives b/c of telling time, i know the 2x table and stuff, i know the commutative property, if we're all the way at the 8x and i haven't Memorized stuff, i can still like, break it down to say, [5 x 8] + [8 x 2] or something when i see 8 x 7, even if it takes a second lmfao.......and stuff like the tragedy of when i Did make a friend in like, 2nd grade, who i think we didn't even talk to each other ever?? i was playing legos or smthing by myself once during Indoor Recess and she just started playing agreeably along with me, aka someone socializing on My Terms apparently as our Introduction, and we just were friends past that but one time, not even during a Lesson Session, we were messing around quietly making each other laugh as the incredibly important process of "put papers in your folders" was going on, and since we were Not Paying Attention for some reason the teacher made a whole example of it where i had to carry my desk across the classroom for the Shaming Element of it and also so that i had to permanently sit way further from that friend, so that was kind of discouragement re: interacting at all. thank you to that teacher, who'd later once Gesticulate to me from across the gym that i should put my arms down at my sides rather than being crossed (we were rehearsing some class performance) & i had no idea what she was trying to convey, so afterwards she told me i had to have Reduced Recess Time or some shit because of Ignoring her instead of putting my arms down lmfao. and i was irritated at having been misinterpreted / my Intentions dictated to me and punished like that, but i was also used to it from adults lmfao and did not bother explaining myself lol like yeah god forbid i left my arms crossed on purpose and now i have to read some more during recess. tl;dr school has so much nonsense & i def had some Times re: being autistic & also just being someone who hated school forever lmao, think it was Also 2nd grade where one arbitrary sunday night i just cried out of frustration at having to go back for another normal school week. classic. oh and that also, while i wasn't like "oooo booksmart people who hate not having a Definitive Correct Answer to things &/or ohhh autistic ppl So Good at math, in a way everyone hates and disrespects, but they suck at Literature/Arts which requires you to reflect on humanity and shit," like, not only was i the drawing kid but i was also apparently ahead of the curve as it were at like, Literary Analysis lmfao where there was a few times in elementary school i'd be the kid providing the Interpretation like "what's this poem about / what's the theme or Symbolism in this story," but from elementary school to college it's like, for god's sake don't ask me to come up with a story / work with some really open ended prompt, i don't Invent in that way, and when i try to draw on Inspiration i'll get stuck on some specific source and be unable to do anything but just rip it off really lmao. but then again i was prolific in "it's 1st grade and you write and illustrate a little short story or smthing in these booklets
that we then have a simple little binding process for" like ohhh fancy, i got a tootsie roll lollipop at Awards Time for writing a shit ton of those lol. but that's like, when you're too young to have that much of a Creative Process anyways lmao. but then, my older sister, whose Thing was writing, has an incredible 2 Volume like, noir mystery saga from those elementary school times, it's a classic lmao. anyways once again so much to say about School lol closing the door after meandering on that one for this long lol
April 6th: Are you able to drive? If so, was it difficult to learn? What was difficult about it? If not, do you use any alternatives?
i did learn to drive, tbh just universally it's like, at any point you're driving there's A Lot to pay attention to at once, even if you think you're Good At That or whatever, which i sure don't think i always am lol, and it's pretty wild we just, you know, let everyone go around as fast as they want in machines that can kill you or someone else, and this is also Unnecessary b/c like, let's have accessible & reliable public transit so that everyone can travel without Needing to have a car / someone else who will drive them. i didn't think i had too much trouble learning to drive, but it had to help that i just took it very seriously from the start lmao like, well, i'm quite aware i could kill someone with this. the driving classes i took were alright, i remember the instructor being pretty chill and friendly lol. rip to the fact i could be tense when driving with parent/s, when driving a manual i'd always like screech the tires when accelerating out of a Stop, until all at once it was like "and i'm driving that manual car alone on a road trip & wouldn't you know it, only literally once did i have that issue of not getting out of a stop smoothly enough" lmao like the Anxiety......really like yeah i had an alright time learning and think i'm solid enough at driving / like doing it, theoretically, but Driving Is Wild just in general and let's have that public transit
April 7th: How are you with sarcasm and/or metaphors/figures of speech? Do you interpret things very literally?
i think i Usually get what people mean with these Devices but i can't really say lol, but anytime you know, someone is being more Implicit in what they say, plenty of times i can infer one implication and only later realize they probably meant a different one, or yknow, i make whatever initial inference i make and can be stuck like "???" and have to like, mentally run diagrams about the interaction lol......meanwhile i'm not always remembering that like, if i'm shifting context mentally that's necessarily able to be inferred by whoever i'm talking to lol, whether it's about getting into some adjacent topic or like, i don't think it tends to be very clear even in person when i've started being sarcastic lmao, like i know that can be true for anyone but it's like well, guess i gotta make it clearer i'm doing a bit......flipside of that or something lmao that people are more Obvious than they think they are sometimes about like, idk, when someone is sort of making some sarcastic remark to you but the sarcasm is also sort of only to themself, aka just like okay i know you mean this more dismissively / disparagingly than re: what you're saying just at face value lol like. just always fun >:/
#30daysofautismacceptance#2021#you know that Read More means especially a saga even by my standards lmfao
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