#but i used the word complex for a reason. because quite usually there is in fact complexities to when people find things like that indulgen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nicxl333 · 9 months

Note

could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.

My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2

thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao

also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3

characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin

content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)

tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.

it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.

unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.

and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.

he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.

little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.

you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.

as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.

as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.

‘he’s home?’

surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.

after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.

“yoichi? you there?”

nothing.

you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.

he remembered.

your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.

“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”

in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.

“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.

“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.

“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.

“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”

you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.

your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.

feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.

“y/n? are you— are you oka-”

you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.

“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.

you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.

“y/n, where are you?”

“y/n please answer the phone!”

“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”

“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”

“y/n?”

“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”

although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.

you sent him a quick, straightforward response.

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”

the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.

you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.

luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.

it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.

once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.

soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.

just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.

“hello?”

“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”

if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.

“requested by who, might i ask?”

“mr…mikage reo?”

what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.

“erm ma’am?”

you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.

you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.

taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.

after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.

just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.

your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.

you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.

all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.

you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.

“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”

“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.

“yeah.”

he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.

“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”

you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.

becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.

“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”

you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.

“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”

he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.

and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.

“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”

you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.

“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”

“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”

you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.

“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”

“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”

you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.

“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.

“wanna repeat that?”

“nope!”

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.

he missed you.

it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.

the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.

you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.

you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.

the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.

you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.

you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.

in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.

yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.

alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.

he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.

“y/n…you’re here.”

“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”

nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.

you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.

“are you really leaving y/n?”

“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”

you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.

“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”

you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.

“y/n?”

when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.

he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.

“y/n- what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”

your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.

something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.

he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.

“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”

you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.

“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”

“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”

you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.

“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”

you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“of course i will seishiro.”

“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.

due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.

the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.

and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.

barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).

he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.

and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.

after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.

with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.

however.

“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”

shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.

“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”

you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.

“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”

wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?

he didn’t.

and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.

“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”

you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.

you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.

he got what he wanted, right?

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.

you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.

you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.

you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.

and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.

imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.

your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.

still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.

he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.

maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.

so, he let go of the relationship for good.

—

four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.

oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.

he couldn’t get his mind off you.

you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.

either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.

he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.

it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.

and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,

you.

“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.

“rin…hi.”

all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.

“how…how’ve you been?”

“good thanks, how about you?”

“i’ve been— alright.”

silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.

he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”

“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”

“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”

baby? what the fuck?

he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.

“who’s this?”

“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.

have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?

his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.

he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.

baby you sold me a dream pt.3

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

False Idols

alternate ao3 link

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: 18+ (minors DNI or I'm shattering throats n slicing kneecaps), unprotected sex (also pls do not do), oral (f receiving + m receiving), deepthroating, handjob, fingering, light degradation, p in v, cumming inside, eddie's got a god complex

Summary: One revelation leads to another, and another...

Word count: 3582

A/N: Sorry it's been so quiet on the writing front! I'm getting back into the swing of things :)

“Phoenix, this is Hellhound, do you copy? Over.”

You love that Eddie’s got more friends now, you really do. And him being friends with those freshmen who loved their AV club sure has come in useful for you to be able to communicate with him uninterrupted, pretty much wherever you may be. But maybe he got a little too into making codenames for the two of you.

Reaching over to pick up your walkie-talkie, you hold it up to your mouth and squeeze the button. “Yeah, I’m here, Eds. What’s up?”

“Would it kill you to use the lingo just once?” Although his voice is warbled from the radio, you can hear the disappointment in his tone.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Uhh, ten-four, reading you loud and clear, Cap’n Hellhound, what’s your coordinates? Over.”

“Funny. Someone get this kid on stage,” Eddie deadpans. “Are you free to come hang out at the trailer, if I pick you up? Like, now?”

“Uh, sure! I’ll need to get ready first, how far away are you?”

“Uhh…”

“You’re outside, aren’t you.” Silence. Tells you everything. “Read you loud and clear, Hellhound. Phoenix over and out.”

You slip on the first shoes you find and head straight out the front door to your front yard. You probably should have picked up a jacket, considering how you’re dressed, but you’re not thinking about that right now. What’s important is being there for your best friend. The way you always have been, and always will be.

Being Eddie Munson's best friend meant playing the most epic of fantasy games growing up. Being Eddie Munson's best friend meant having to stand back while he got bullied, because having a girl defend him only made it worse. Being Eddie Munson's best friend meant always having a front row seat to Corroded Coffin gigs, even though there was never a massive crowd, you knew there would be someday. Being Eddie Munson's best friend meant always having someone in your corner, and always being there in his, too.

You knew exactly why he wanted you out here. Now that he’s all up and graduated, the endless void of The Future beckons, and it scares him. All his other, more age-appropriate friends have plans and that scares him because he doesn’t. His plan was to graduate with you the year prior. You’d joked that he was always destined to be held back a year so you could leave that place together. But you managed to get through senior year unscathed. Eddie still didn’t quite make it until the following year. But he met his little baby nerds this past school year, so perhaps it was all part of his divine plan after all.

Everyone around you always had an opinion about your choice not to go into college right after school. You’re smart enough. It’s the usual way. What else are you going to do with your life? You always tell them that you’ve got your whole life to figure out what you want to dedicate it to working as, what’s the rush? But deep down, you know there’s another reason you haven’t left Hawkins.

You and Eddie had driven in silence for the most part. Whenever Eddie suggested these drives, it’s usually because he wanted to be alone, except for the pair of you, that state is only safe when it’s the two of you, even if it’s to sit in total silence. You felt the cold, remnant-of-spring breeze hit your skin and quickly pulled Eddie’s spare jacket from where he usually “stored” it beneath your feet and threaded your arms into it, suddenly very self-conscious about the choices you’d made - or rather, not made - before you left the house.

He finally breaks the silence after he’s parked up outside his uncle’s trailer, though he shows no sign of getting out. “I can’t believe you’re still here.”

You frown, "Why wouldn't I be? You drove me."

He chuckles softly, stroking his chin. "You know what I mean, smartass. You were made for college. You could be anywhere in the whole United States right now, kicking ass and taking names. Your whole world shouldn't start and end at Hawkins."

You want nothing more than to shake him by the shoulders and tell him that your whole world is right here next to you, but of course you can't do that. "Well, that's why I'm gonna be the Coffin's number one roadie, right? So I can see the world."

Eddie scoffs as he gets out of the car, "Please, give yourself some credit. You'd be our tour manager, at least."

"See?! Fuck college, I've got my life planned out already, seeing the world with my best friend in tow," you grin, hopping out the other side.

Eddie looks at his trailer, shakes his head softly and gestures for you to walk around some more with him. You follow in tow, feeling the cold air hit your chest, and cross your arms around it, desperately hoping you can continue to hide what the air exposes.

Eventually, Eddie smiles softly, "Alright, in reality, I am pretty glad you didn't go to college."

"Me too," you nod back, walking into his arm to nudge it lightly.

After a few beats of walking in comfortable silence, Eddie chuckles again. "Speaking of life plans, you still gonna marry me when we're 35?"

You collapse into laughter, remembering the pact you made when you were kids. "Oh my god, stop! And I swear it was when we were 40! It definitely ended in a 0."

"Fine, then when we're 30," he muses. "Still down?"

"What's the rush?" you ask. "C'mon, don't you wanna find your soulmate first?"

He snorts with laughter, "Again with all the ‘fate’ stuff. You're so corny."

You stop walking and gasp in half-mocked offence. "What do you mean?!" You continue your pace deliberately back towards his trailer, having almost come full circle, and he follows, "Do you not believe that one of these days, when you're out on tour or whatever, you're gonna meet someone who you're gonna spend the rest of your life with?"

Eddie shakes his head and laughs in disbelief, muttering, "Oh, sweetheart, if you only knew."

Your heart sinks. "What's that mean?" you ask, but Eddie stays silent. "Come on, you can tell me!" He remains quiet. Trying to remain light-hearted, you tut, shaking your head. "Well damn, some future husband you'll be if you're already keeping secrets from me…"

He finally breaks, clearing his throat. "Um. Well, uh, maybe that… Person, is… Not somewhere out in the big wide world to go looking for after all." His gaze quickly turns to you to gauge your reaction before he turns away again. You wonder if, after all this time, or maybe just for now, he feels the same things you do.

You decide to test the waters, stepping closer to him and letting one arm fall, brushing your knuckles against his. "That's true, the world is a big ol' place. Maybe they're closer than that. Maybe they're still in America."

You see the corners of his mouth turn up as he takes your hand and squeezes it. "Maybe - maybe they're still in Indiana."

You've both stopped walking now, once again back at the van. You're looking into his eyes, his deep, dark, warm, rich eyes. He's looking at you with mixed eager anticipation and sheer awe that this conversation is even happening. "You think they might be in Hawkins?" You ask, an obvious sense of smugness present in your tone.

He leans into you, with just as prideful a grin as he admits, "I think we both know you're right here."

Your hand cradles his jaw into the first kiss you two have ever shared. Silent years of pining, of being afraid to lose him over this, of jealousy over everyone he ever showed an interest in, of guilt that you could never get over him. All of that melts between your lips. But there's more than just that. Not only is he matching your energy entirely here, he's one-upping it.

His hands start to slide down your back slowly. Tantalisingly. They stop at the small of your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You hum a sound of consent against his lips, and Eddie wastes no time in taking your ass into both of his hands and squeezing. As he pulls you close, your hips instinctively start to grind against his. Your moans harmonise in each others' mouths, though yours falters into a shiver. Eddie breathes out a laugh, rubbing your arms over his jacket. “Wanna head inside and warm up?” he purrs, pressing his forehead against yours and then leaning his head up to kiss your forehead softly.

You nod and step away from him, once again keeping your arms tightly wound across your body to keep yourself warm as he fumbles through his pockets to find the key to the trailer. You follow behind him up the steps, practically feeling the physical anticipation between the two of you like static electricity. He wrenches the door open, holding it out for you and lingering as he watches you walk in. He quickly follows though, not even allowing enough time for the door to close behind him before snaking his arms beneath yours and pulling you close to resume kissing you.

He blindly guides you towards the couch until you both fall into it, grabbing your thighs to wrap them around his hips before sliding his hands up beneath your skirt to this time grip your bare ass. The metal of his rings press contrastingly cool and smooth to his warm, wide, worn hands. You squeeze your knees into his hips now that you’re straddling him, your hips desperately seeking friction which he happily provides, bucking up to meet you.

He makes quick work of throwing his jacket off of your shoulders, and you break the kiss to lean back and shake it off your arms. His eyes trail down to your chest and he sucks a long breath in. "Holy fuck, angel, I thought you had your arms crossed because you were mad at me for something, but…" He slowly drags his knuckles up and down against the sensitive nubs practically bursting through the thin cover of your dress. You breath hitches once, twice, three times as you gasp at the contact. "Now I see why."

"Yeah, well… I just threw this on because - it was easy and I - was just having a lazy day," you whine through his touches.

Eddie pauses for a moment to bring your jaw down to look him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrows. "You just "threw on" the one dress that makes your tits look like works of fucking art? Please." He tugs at the front of your dress to expose your breasts, and you slip the straps down to give him full access to take one out and start suckling on your nipple. He continues to rub the other between his finger and his thumb, and you rake your fingers into his hair as you cry out with pleasure.

Eddie looks back up at you as if he's high off the taste of your skin, smiling dreamily. "Would I be right in assuming, based on what I felt earlier, that your bra isn't the only underwear you forgot?"

You bite your lip and jump up, pulling your dress up over your head and throwing it at him. "Come see for yourself," you smirk, pushing your chin into your shoulder before running into his bedroom.

He chases you there, throwing his shirt off in the process. You sit perched on the edge of the bed and he looks at you in awe, slowly sinking his knees lower as he approaches you until he's on the floor at your feet, throwing your legs over his shoulders before burying his face between them and sliding his tongue deep beneath your folds.

Your hands once again take residence in his hair, scooping it all to one side so you can watch his tongue fuck you before pulling out to lap your clit rapidly. One hand is rested on your inner thigh, ready to plunge his fingers inside of you whenever his tongue is focused on your clit, and the other rests on top of your other thigh, ready to rub at your clit in circles whenever his tongue is inside you. He manages to find the one spot that causes you to feel a euphoria you've never known before, with his tongue and with his fingers, and holy shit, does he know how to work it with them.

"Oh, my - Eddie," you groan, and you feel his chuckle vibrate against your core.

"You know, sweetheart, I believe the phrase people use is oh my god."

Groaning at the sensation, you cry, "Fuck, when you make me feel this good, what's the difference?"

Eddie's entire demeanour changes. He looks at you in a way that excites you from the inside out. Yearning becomes possessiveness, along with a confidence you've never seen to him. He ducks back down to ravish you with the fervour of a man on death row eating his last meal, still massaging your clit just as gently as before. All of it is enough for you to climax over your best friend's tongue, screaming a string of mixed encouragements and profanities in the process.

You barely have time to appreciate the look of his ecstatic face absolutely smothered in your juices before he stands up, licking all around his mouth and pulling his belt undone. "Get on your knees, on the floor," he commands, and you instantly comply, though your legs feel weak when you bear your weight onto them.

Eddie's jeans and boxers fly to the floor with an almighty thud, which almost distracts you from the sight of his hungry eyes on you as he lazily strokes his cock. Thick, but not painful-looking. Long, but enough to not let any go to waste. Pink at the tip, veins all around. Adorned with a bushy mess of hair. Just perfect. "Say it again," Eddie commands, his tone deeper, darker.

You look up at him with a genuinely innocent curiosity. "Say what?"

"Fuck, you - you calling me a - a god really fucked me up, just, please say it again."

Biting your lip in anticipation, knowing you could make him feel things he's never felt before with one sentence, you look up at him and grin, "Eddie Munson, you are a total sex god."

However, it's you who's enamoured as he groans, his hand moving faster than ever, twisting around his member as his free hand beckons you to kneel up higher. You do so and he commands, "Spit on it." You comply and sink back down to sit on your knees, knowing you now want nothing more than to follow Eddie's every word to a T. Maybe he is a sex god. Eddie holds his palm out flat beneath his cock to also spit on it himself, lubing himself up and moaning the whole time. You watch the way it moves and you feel your mouth start to fall open. He smirks when he notices, "Go on, see what happens."

You let your jaw drop and your tongue loll out wide and flat as you keep watching intently. Your whimper almost comes out as a full-on cry as he flicks his spit-drenched erection all across your face - except for on your tongue, where you craved for him to be inside of your mouth. In a desperate plea, you cry out, "Oh, p-please, fuck, I'll do anything!"

Eddie worries his lower lip beneath his teeth in contemplation for a beat. A fistful of your hair flies into one hand, pushing it back until you're looking up at him, your neck taut. He holds his cock just below your lower lip with the other hand. He looks down at you, his eyes so blown out that they look black, and with the most confident tone you've ever heard from him, he asks, "You gonna pray to me while you're on your knees? Devote every waking moment to worshipping me?"

"Y-yes, god." You expect to do a lot more convincing than that, but something about looking Eddie dead in the eye and calling him that has him sliding his head just over your lip gently before roughly pushing your head down and thrusting up until your nose is nestled amongst the wiry hair spread beneath. You quickly try to remember all the tricks you'd read in the magazines: squeezing your left thumb in your fist, focusing on breathing through your nose. You manage to stay long enough for Eddie to let out the most pornographic of moans before tapping out, to which he hurriedly takes himself out and looks at you with great concern.

You meet his gaze with an appreciative smile and a nod, completely ignoring the trail of drool still connecting you to him. Before he can say anything more, your hand is wrapped around him, pumping his cock with ease, "Gonna -" you pause for a second as you realise how gravelly your voice is after that, but continue - "gonna wake up, every day, n' worship your cock, however you want me." Eddie again grabs your hair, affectionately pushing your head around in all directions. Feeling a spike deep within your core at the sensation of your hair being pulled around too, you whine as you add, "'m gonna be there… Whenever, wherever you need me, an' - I'll only fall asleep while you're deep inside me, holding all your cum." Needing him in your mouth again, you suckle on his balls while playing your fingertips around them, too.

"Fuck," Eddie yells, "Alright, get back up, onto the bed, on your back." You don't need to be told twice. You practically launch yourself onto the mattress, the creaks of the springs foreshadowing the symphony you're about to create. He throws your legs upwards and outwards, and you silently comply with holding the backs of your knees as close to your shoulders as you can. You feel him trailing the tip of his head along your folds, so close. Your hips start to wriggle instinctively, but you hold back, seeing in Eddie's expression just how much he gets off to being in control. He notices and smirks, "Oh I know, aren't I being terrible… Is my sinful little slut resisting temptation for me?" You nod, and honestly, the way his toothy grin ever so slowly creeps along his face is the truly sinful act here. "Words, please."

"Y-yes, god, want you to fuck me, please," you beg. "Am I worthy now?"

"Always have been," he breathes before finally sliding into you. He feels so full, but effortlessly so. Like a key that finally presses all the lock mechanisms just right. And fuck, was he pressing all of you just right. "Yeah, I know, baby, I know," he soothes as you writhe against him, leaning over you to kiss down your jaw to your neck.

"Fuck, Eddie, wanted this for - so long," you mewl as your hips buck down onto him every time he pulls back.

"Yeah?" he smirks, knowing what you're craving and pulling out further every time before pushing in just as deeper. "My little pervert's been thinking about this, has she?" You look away bashfully, but he moves your face to look back at him. "Hey, hey," he soothes, "you know how hot that is, now I know? Because fuck knows how many wet dreams you've starred in."

He doesn’t give you the time to imagine him masturbating over the thought of you, all alone in this very bed. Angling himself to lean back just a little, he aims himself just at that part he was hitting with his tongue and his fingers earlier, that drove you wild. Your eyes roll back as your grip falters from your legs. You dig your fingertips into the mattress as you feel yourself starting to come apart once again. "Hnnn, fuck, I'm gonna - please, can I -?"

"Shit, I'm close, too. Ah fuck, look at you, look at me! Getting to fuck the most beautiful girl in the world, and she's my best friend? Fucking jackpot." He leans over you, fists pushing into the mattress either side of you, his nose barely touching yours, as he looks you deep in the eyes, his still blown into dark voids of total corruption. "Now c'mon, baby, tell me again. Who's your fucking god?"

You groan, "It's you, god, Eddie, god!" You clench around him just as you feel him filling you up, warm spurts of cum lining your insides. He stays inside of you, thrusting more and more gently until he eventually comes to a complete standstill.

He still remains inside you, hovering over you, but his tired expression is far softer. "Holy fucking shit," he breathes, "that was intense."

"Yeah," you admit, "but in a good way, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," Eddie leans down to kiss you sweetly, gently. He caresses your face with a genuine adoration. "So, uh… If that's just a taste of what sex with you is like… Wanna bump that whole marriage thing up to next week?"

You reach up and cup his jaw, cocking your head. "Oh, sweetie. Go get us cleaned up, then find a suit. We're going to the courthouse first thing tomorrow morning."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut

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starflungwaddledee · 8 months

Note

Do all of the knights have names in your au? And how did you decide on them?

hello there, thank you so much for the message! correct me if I misunderstand, but I think this is about a panel from my galacta knight vs meta knight comic:

where Galacta Knight uses the word Vaýtita. it's not a name, it's a... actually you know what, it's so much more embarrassing! it's a term of endearment/a relationship designator from my unnecessarily complex whole entire sci-fi language i built for them, lmao 💦

here's the note at the beginning of my personal dictionary as a quick crash course:

Ei Vaýtita in particular means "my gravity". it's akin to words like beloved, my heart, or soulmate- an irresistible force in one's own life. it's usually used romantically, but it doesn't have to be. Galacta Knight says it here to be cruel, though i do think he means it quite wholly

when I go in for making languages, especially sci-fi or high-fantasy ones, i like to consider the alien culture that the language is formed in. for these guys, everything was star and space coded; they had no reason to care about "hearts" or "souls". they considered themselves star-like, and so gravity as a term was most important; it's the only thing that can really move them.

praise is about being bright or shiny or having strong gravitational pull; and insults, accordingly, tend to revolve around being dim/lightless or stuck in orbit around someone greater

(translation under the cut because this is already getting long, sorry... i love to talk about this... thank you for asking 😭💝)

phrase // literal translation (from starspeak) // english localisation or meaning

kalimépos // welcome first light // good morning astéskotei // dim star // derogatory but not blindingly so; you could use it pityingly or fondly in a pinch ei épios // me see // wake up ei Vaýtita // my gravity // term of endearment and a relationship designator used within a star-system, usually for equal partners eu desai Ílioz ai ei // you (are not) the Sun of me // this is basically just a rejection from Meta Knight. the Sun serves an important role in star-systems, and he's simply telling Galacta Knight to shove it. he doesn't say it very well, but he refuses to say Ílioz-ei and so turns to a slightly clunky workaround.

#galacta knight #meta knight #my art #starspeak #awtdy au #asks #i do not speak any greek (modern or ancient) or arabic and rely on google translate entirely #originally designed this language entirely for self-indulgent personal use so it's got its flaws and is ever-growing and changing #i formally apologise to any actual speakers to whom this probably looks very stupid as it is truly just words slammed around in the blender #if they mean anything in OTHER languages also i apologise; i try to make sure that they don't translate to anything but it's tricky!#was just obsessed with the idea of utilising existing cosmic designation conventions for their dumb ancient star language #also to the person who referred to this on my main comic as meta knight being ring-popped thank you for my life i loved that #my headcanons and worldbuilding

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

am I the asshole for being kinda mean.

I know the title sounds kinda bad off the bat but I don't really have another way of describing it.

I (19NB) struggle a lot with mental health issues. I won't go in detail, but I have autism and bpd. I grew up in a culture that does NOT like discussing these things, and my parents don't believe that my mental health issues are real. Because of this I've developed kind of a complex about talking about my mental health, I know it's unhealthy but I don't actually repress it, it's just a case of I don't like to tell friends (online or in person) anything about my mh at all until I'm sure I can trust them. I also really dislike "therapy speak", mainly bc I've had it weaponised against me in the past, though I recognise it is sometimes an important tool. Another final bit of context is that I did not use any social media at all up until 2022 after having not used socials since I was around 12, due to mh reasons.

I joined a fandom space I'd been casually lurking in since 2019 as an attempt to break into creating art in 2022. At first, everything was smooth sailing. I made a close knit group of friends fast, and everything was all good. Then, out of the blue one day, a friend of mine posted something that was quite triggering to me. It could've played as a joke but also used dark humor I found triggering. Now, one issue I have is that when I get triggered, rather than getting upset or panicky, I usually first get angry, then later deal with those symptoms. I snapped at this friend, then apologised and left the server, saying I didn't want to risk saying anything stupid.

I was dmed by multiple friends of mine telling me I had been horrible to them and made them cry . I don't think I said anything horrible. I think my words were close to "Hey, that's a fucked up thing to laugh at, and actually very fucking triggering for some of us lol" Passive aggressive and a bit mean? Sure. But I apologised almost immediately and I didn't think it was anything to cry over. One friend dmed me to tell me that "humor was their coping mechanism" and I "disrespected their coping mechanism". I attempted to explain that their joke had been triggering to me and that's why I reacted the way I did . Around 5 people dmed me at once while I was in a vulnerable state to tell me that I was being horrible and they couldn't believe I was so mean. I tried to distract myself, but people were getting mad at me for going offline, and it upset me so much.

One of my friends, A, who is from my country texted me to defend me, saying everyone who is mad are just Americans and I agreed bc I felt that way. They seemed like they were only taking into account this person's feelings because they were openly crying and like. Not playing victim but being more vulnerable than I was? This person talked about their mental health often and people would comfort them, but as soon as I was triggered and lashed out it was my fault for being horrible? I ended up apologising, since I really did feel bad for snapping at them, I really just didn't think it was that big of a deal. Some of those people never spoke to me again and I never rejoined the discord. A and I made our own discord later that some of the people who still talked to me joined and we are still friends.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

I love everything you write! Can I request some headcanons for Gun/Goo, crewheads, and the J-Highers? You can choose what you're comfortable writing about

Thanks anon! Just... hc? Ohh this is extremely wide-ranging, I'm panicking. Hope you don't mind if I go for a list with the tiniest sprinkling of hc.

Lookism Boys & Love Languages

Maxed out 2 per person. I feel like I need to explain myself for a few. Some are a vibe, some have an actual reason, some are just bullshit

Giving

Acts of service

Vin Jin: If he likes you, he will be running little errands and doing things for you. He'll grumble and beat himself up for being a simp as he does it, but he does do it.

Jibeom Kwak: Would do anything for his bros, and now that includes you too.

Gun Park: an absolute gentleman. Silently observing and anticipates your needs before you need to ask.

+ Daniel Park, Jay Hong, Zack Lee, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo, Jace Park, Warren Chae, Ryuhei Kuroda, Xiaolong

Physical Touch

Xiaolong: once he is used to you, then absolutely physical touch. This guy is so touch starved, when was the last time he even had an embrace where it wasn't riddled with guilt? Will never get over being able to just reach out and place his hand on your leg, or put his arm around his shoulders. Same reason why he likes to receive.

+ Vin Jin, Logan Lee, Ryuhei Kuroda.

Words of Affirmation

Warren Chae: He's so quiet usually, and never has been very vocal with Sally but she also didn't initially return his affections. Canonically, his sentences and speech got better with his confidence so once you're together? Warren really finds his voice and adores showering you in praises and telling you how much he loves you.

Jihan Kwak: Vibe that he is flirtatious as hell, muttering a lot of sweet nothings that will make you blush and your pulse race.

+ NOT Goo Kim: Honeyed words flow from his mouth to anyone and everyone. Don't bank on anything he says holding a grain of truth.

+ NOT Jake Kim: A bit like Goo Kim, a lot of shit runs from his mouth. Sorry Jake. Jokes, pick-up lines, flirtations, puns. You can't take him seriously half the time and he does it with pretty much everyone.

Quality Time

DG/James Lee: Time is extremely limited for this k-pop idol and one-time limb detacher. If he spends time with you, he must really like you.

Hudson Ahn: Very busy man training, keeping an eye on Ansan and his lackeys, eating snakes in the middle of nowhere with Taesoo. Doesn't give up his time and focus for just anyone.

+ Daniel Park, Zack Lee, Vasco Tabasco, Johan Seong, Gun Park, Goo Kim, Eli Jang, Eugene, Sinu Han, Jace Park

Gifts

Jay Hong: Hard one to place, act of service then split between Gifts and Quality Time but Jay likes traditional gift-giving. Also protects and looks after others with his money too. Will literally buy your way out of trouble. Our capitalist king.

Logan Lee: It's canon.

Johan Seong: To be honest, I imagine him a bit like an outdoor cat, going on adventures and bringing you back gifts that he thinks you'll like. A pair of shoes mysteriously in your size and a bit worn, or maybe just a random flower that was pretty. It was totally Eden and Miro that picked it, not him. Stop looking at him like that!

+Goo Kim, Samuel Seo

Receiving

Acts of service

Actions may speak louder than words, but more because these guys have god complexes and loves you doing things for them.

+ Vin Jin, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo

Physical Touch

Vasco Tabasco: once he's over how deviant touching one another is, he doesn't want you to keep your hands off him. He has a limit though, so please keep the touches quite innocent and pure. Hand holding? YES. Pinching his butt? OBSCENE! (but... maybe... that's ok too.)

DG/James Lee and Gun Park: Not ever on the receiving end of tender touches. Moreso that they're not going to let just anyone get their grubby mitts on them. Something as casual as you linking your arm through theirs? It's different. It's unusual. It's... Nice.

+ Johan Seong, Eugene, Jace Park, Warren Chae, Ryuhei Kuroda, Xiaolong, Hudson Ahn

Words of Affirmation

Daniel Park: Hangover from his childhood, where the only compliments are from his mom. Always nice for him to hear clearly and loudly your love for him. Actually praising his looks though, he can take it or leave it.

Jake Kim: As mentioned, he chats so much shit that he sometimes forgets that being on the receiving end of sincere, loving words can really be beautiful. Especially if they're from you. Genuine compliments and praise will make him blush.

Jibeom Kwak: Middle child syndrome for this and quality time love languages. Attention, please.

+ Zack Lee, Vasco Tabasco, Vin Jin, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo, Jace Park, Warren Chae

Quality Time

What's there to explain? They can't get enough of you. Even something as simple as sitting side by side, scrolling on your own phones. Just being in your presence is enough.

+ Daniel Park, Jay Hong, Zack Lee, Logan Lee, Johan Seong, Jake Kim, Gun Park, Eli Jang, Sinu Han, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jibeom Kwak

Gifts

Goo Kim: Here's a whole little drabble about this. He doesn't need expensive gifts, just tiny small things to show that he's on your mind. Yeah, almost as proof because he's an idiot like that.

Sinu Han: Can't you hear him giggling like a schoolgirl if you handed him a pretty leaf or something?

+ NOT Daniel Park: Jay gave him a wholeass designer wardrobe, and while he was grateful and was clueless about the cost, he didn't seem as fussed as someone who would truly appreciate it as a love language. Finds small things equally nice too.

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carlyraejepsans · 10 months

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i was thinking about that ask i received the other day and how uncharacteristically upset the topic had made me when i usually just think "mh. gross!" and move on, and after mulling it over a while i realized it wasn't about the topic at all, it was the ask itself that freaked me out. i've mentioned sporadically before (for obvious reasons lol) that i used to be involved in fandom discourse when i was younger and that!! fucked me up quite a lot. between exacerbating my ocd and straight up getting cyber stalked (i almost feel guilty using that word, like i don't deserve it but. yeah that is 100% what happened to me), the topic is something I have very complex and personal opinions on but that i hate talking about in public because it still sets off my fight or flight response.

i know some people in the fandom are like "let me know if i ever rb someone who wrote/drew gross stuff" and that's entirely their choice and i respect it. but for the record, i am not one of these people. please, for the love of god, i am asking this genuinely do NOT come into my DMs about this, I don't want to know. assume I'm either living in blissful ignorance or my blacklist already covers me quite nicely & i wanna keep it that way. i vastly prefer the discomfort of stumbling into something unprepared and deciding what to do about it on my own, to the utter pit of dread i get whenever i open a message that starts with "hey just so you know-". i have blocked multiple people in the past over it. i WILL block more. be warned.

[note. this doesn't apply to people who have either hurt or behaved inappropriately with other members of the fandom, or spread bigotry and discrimination like racists and transphobes. please do let me know in those cases]

does this make sense? idk I'm kinda feverish you guys figure it out. I'm going to sleep.

#word from the wise for anyone peering into the jaws of discourse. there are only 2 types of people you can trust on their opinions on it #they are 1) people who have never heard of ship discourse like. at all. and 2) people who know too much about it #and with that i mean people who started off at one end of the discourse ricochetted to the other side and then came out #objectively refusing to associate with any of it. because they Know. that whatever issue lies at the heart of it is never gonna get resolve #with the way that discourse is conducted. and that the problems will never truly be fixed. and even then #you should take three or four of them at once from different starting and ending points and let them talk it out together first #because they all came from different point of views the others could've missed #i cannot WARN YOU ENOUGH. you do not want to be the second type. don't fall in #block who you wanna block and be kind any time you can. most people aren't inherently evil & that's a weird thing to assume about someone #and for the love if god stop fucking beefing with teenagers online #that is all you need to know about this. go have fun #i haveee so many fucking. thoughts about this topic i genuinely think i could have (and have had! seriously!) constructive discussions on i #about what would be helpful and what needs to be changed and what people get wrong. but it's always in private. because of the horrors #anyway shipping wars veteran discounts when

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herdsworldbuilding · 3 months

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So despite my own personal statements regarding my dislike for complex, multiverse like narratives. I am infact like most people, a hypocrite.

So let me talk about my multiverse narrative.

This is a project I started sometime in high school, and it keeps changing every year that I work on it. I think it may be the project where I have done the most overhauls on.

There is no garentee I will not overhaul it entirely again in the future. But that will be then, this is now.

So even though it is a constantly changing project, I will share the oldest remaining a (and most consistent part of this project) Witches.

Witches are rare, shapeshifting beings. Able to transform into many things. Though they all have a unique familiar.

This familiar is what they are named for… ie the wolf witch, the chameleon witch or the cat witch, gryphon witch So on and so forth.

Witches for this setting are not born they are made. Quite purposely mind you. As it would be difficult if not impossible to make a witch without all parties consenting to it.

A consensual deal with the devil per-say.

The reason for this is because of how magic naturally works.

There are three kinds of majics. Major majics, middle magics and minor magics.

Under normal circumstances stances major magics like the kind that witches perform are deadly to most beings so minor magics are instead used

See even with minor magic it is done by cooperating with several people at a time. Usually the safest minimum is three individuals. Two to cast one to keep watch. The safest large amount of individuals is somewhere around twelve as any more and it tends to be a too many cooks in the kitchen ordeal.

Magic can be performed alone, but it is difficult and likely to backfire. Especially with the more magic you are dealing with. Or in other words the closer to major majics one gets.

Crafting with magic is slightly less risky but not as potent when done alone, and there’s several ways to do this sort of crafting… but before I get off track.

Witches are the exception to casting magic on thier own, they can just throw it around whillynilly all they want. This is because of one simple fact:

A witch is never alone.

That is because witches make themselves. when they fuse their bodies and consciousness together with others. This horrific process results in a single individual and an offshoot (the familiar)

This individual, with multiple consciousness, two to cast one to watch. Can perform magic as they wish.

Witches like this draw magic from the worlds around them and from themselves, and that is where this whole multiverse thing comes in.

Magic is everywhere and in everything there is life.

And the majority of witches come from and live in the place where dead universes combined. To be melted together and reused until the end of magic. This place. The place where dreams are made and go to die. As it has always been, and never will be. Is connected to everything. The cosmic ocean if you will. The roots of the world tree. The brackish world. The home of the many gates.

So it’s from here that a witch can fulfill their greatest purpose.

See when a witch create themselves they also creat a magic system (middle majics). A way to easily harness that energy so normally inaccessible to most.

Normally a magic system will be used by the witch themselves.

For example the Chameleon Witch upholds a magic system that relies on color, change the color of a thing and change the way that thing fundamentally interacts with life.

The chameleon witch uses their system when they perform magic.

But others can also buy into a witche’s system. Usually the inhabitants of the brackish worlds may buy into a witches system in order to perform magic in an easier way.

But that’s the less interesting option.

The more interesting system occurs when a real world, floating out in the spiderwebs of the cosmos decided to try magic.

If there is enough magic around (at least a 1.7 on my scale) and individuals start to pull on magic. There is a high chance that instead of pulling on nothing they find a witch’s path that’s already been thread. As it is easier to walk the path already taken than bushwhack a new one.

Some systems are more popular to buy into than others. Like the dragon witches elemental system. Or the black witches deal making system.

A magic planet can buy into multiple systems at a time, usually having them fuse into something unique. But they can stay separate too or expand in ways unknown to the witch themselves until they learn of this new idea.

The old sort of magic the kind that sings universes into being, still exists and could in theory be used by anyone in a world with enough magic to notice the fabric of order and chaos that the witches use to create themselves. But why do that when your system lets you throw fire balls? Or even find the mysteries of the universe in the equally impressive minor magics? (I mean the name is deceptive, this magic can be used to revive the dead, grant wishes and control entire worlds of used in the right place by the right “people”, it’s the magic of gods and “soft magic systems”)

The thing about witches (and magic system as an extension) is that they are mortal. Majic is an immortal force of existence. To exist is to be just a bit of majic.

But witches are mortal and so they can die. And with them the system they upheld dies too. In some cases a similar system belonging to another witch may fill the void, but otherwise the system dies.

The likelihood of a witch dying is slim though. They are mortal, but they are also ageless, as by the rules of the chaos at the ends of existence. Where things like time and scale and gravity don’t behave as they should. From where you can watch the countless ends and existences die and begin again in universes uncountable. As gods and giants and cosmic dragons forge worlds and multiverses of their own volition. And elder things play games and battle over the scraps and threads of thier own universes that they wish to forge into new existences. Doing anything they can to prevent existences from falling into the place that witches live.

Speaking of dragons and elder things: witches follow dragons, because cosmic dragons are especially good at destruction and creation. (Chaos incarnate, along with their siblings who are Order incarnate) So if a witch wishes to place her magic system in a particular place she will give it to a dragon who will go to a world and from there spread life and magic that they carry to that world.

Elder things know, they tend to have lived through the birth and rebirth of several universes. So they are especially good at learning and unknowning. They are usually the ones responsible for changing the ways a system interacts with the world around it.

A Witches counterpart is a Muse, witches write the rules of magic, Muses write the paths of things.

#world building #worldbuilding #magic #multiverse #fantasy #my work #magic system #elemental magic #lore #witch #soft magic system #hard magic system #dragons #elderich abomination #muse

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anonzentimes · 8 days

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Regarding the opinion that Nagito is a relatable character, I totally agree! He is very contradictory, but that makes him relatable. I think the reason he was looking for something absolute was because he didn't want to get hurt emotionally. I really like the following part of the line he says at Nagito's ending of Island Mode, and it made a strong impression on me:

I thought I would finally be released from the cycle of good and bad luck, but I was clinging to false hope...

(I took this quote from the Danganronpa fandom wiki, so I'm not sure if this is the exact line in the Englsih version).

I didn't pay attention to that line the first time I played the game, and for a while I even forgot he said it. But when I replayed DR2 from the beginning and reached that ending again, I was really surprised because this line reveals his honest feelings quite well. I think that he said things like "luck is an absolute good thing" in the Free Time Events, and even seemed to be proud of his talent, but in reality he felt that his life, being at the mercy of bad luck and good luck, was painful. (Since he says "finally be released".) In other words, you can see here that he has an ordinary mind, at least originally.

He had to think that his life was very happy to protect his heart. In reality, he felt that his life was a mess and not going well. Thinking about that makes me really sad, but that is the line he says just before he asks Hajime to be his friend, and Hajime immediately accepted, so I hope he feels happy to be able to enjoy the ordinary moment of spending time with someone he likes for the first time!

Hi Asaka!!! :D yes that's the exact line in the english translation don't worry!

Nagito is such a complex and wonderful character, he is the result of horrible circumstances and horrible continuous tragedies. He clings onto his coping mechanism to have something to live for, and I think to some degree he's aware his life is quite miserable. He cares about his life but has developed in a way where he doesn't have to think about things like anyone else would, and in turn these coping mechanisms became unhealthy, obsessive, and causes him to act morally gray for the sake of so called hope.

I really do love that line because it really does show he acknowledges there that it is a horrible cycle! Usually he wouldn't come to terms with that exactly. Any time anything bad happens he knows good luck for him will strike again, he knows hope surely will happen soon, so he lives on. When good things happen he's scared of the bad luck ahead but appreciative of the moment, and especially if the good is hope he's thrilled because it's what he lives for at that point.

I think he hates his talent and doesn't see it as worth anything because it has killed everyone he's ever loved, but I also think at points he takes pride in it since it's the main thing he can say he has. He thinks he's worthless, but at least he's the ultimate lucky student, right? I think he believes that If he doesn't even live up to his awful talent then he's even more worthless than before. He truly can believe in his luck as the only thing occasionally valuable about himself, but even then he thinks it isn't that good.

He's good at hiding his emotions for the most part when they aren't so extreme, and he has become partially emotionally numb to some extreme situations. But what I love is that, you still can tell when you analyze him enough how he thinks and feels. He's an honest person and even when he lies his emotions shine through if big enough or something usually spills out. One of the examples I spotted today when replaying and loved is when he starts to get really nervous after lying to Hajime so much when investigating.

I think Nagito Komaeda is so relatable because he just feels so human, if that makes sense. His depth is really well done, the world and his coping mechanisms are unhinged but he himself emotionally feels real. We see him use coping mechanisms, have love languages, fear dying alone, be emotionally contradictory, go through struggles and trauma, see the impacts of said trauma, see him have complex beliefs, see him having an honest kindhearted personality, have good intentions while doing the wrong thing, have self esteem issues, have tonal issues, he is just so well written that I could list things that contribute to his depth forever. There is so much that makes him feel human, a lot of it is apart of the universal human experience, while other things are a lot more specific since it's fantasy. The thought of Nagito recovering, being able to finally live the ordinary life he's always wanted after everything, being loved, and not dying alone makes me so happy.

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totowlff · 1 year

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beware the trap

➝ request: could you right a short fic of toto telling the reader everything will be okay and it will all work out, don’t beat yourself down?

➝ word count: 3,6k

➝ warnings: mental breakdown

➝ author’s notes: i haven't written a one-shot for a long time and i was particularly inspired this week. the poem toto is referring to is called beware the trap by kelly mistry. I read it this week and it touched me deeply. finally, remember: do not fall into the trap.

As you stretched after hours of being slouched in front of the computer, your eyes found the clock in the corner of the screen. You ran a hand over your face and rubbed your eyes a bit, because you were sure you weren’t reading it correctly. It was not possible that it was already this late. A second look was enough for you to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

It was past midnight.

You pressed your palms into your eyes and took a deep breath. You were supposed to have left hours ago, when the rest of your team left. But, there you were, sitting at your workstation in your cubicle in the wind tunnel building, which was part of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team complex. You’d stayed late, but hadn’t meant to stay quite this late. No reason to leave now, though — it didn’t make any sense, with all of the work you had to do.

“You made us throw a whole year in the bin”, you remembered Mike, your boss, telling you that morning. You leaned back in your office chair as his voice echoed in your head. On the monitor in front of you, the dorsal view of a 3D car model made something feel tight in your chest.

When the new set of technical regulations hit your desk, you, as the chief aerodynamicist, made a point of studying them closely, along with Jordan and Giorgio, two of the best aerodynamicists on your team. Soon, you began to draft concepts, and eventually, your team narrowed it down to two radically different interpretations of the regulations. From the readings you were doing, it seemed that both of them had great potential.

After running models through the CFD software and running numerous simulations, everything pointed to the idea that you had — the concept of a low, flat sidepod, nicknamed the ‘zeropod’ — being the most efficient from an aerodynamic point of view. It was something definitely different than expected by John Owen, the chief designer, who believed that the car would follow a similar concept to that envisioned by the FIA.

However, the idea you ended up pushing was a bold choice. Your idea of placing the air intakes vertically and more or less glued to the cockpit, with the upper area of the floor designed to direct airflow to the rear wing. In all of the modeling, simulations, and wind tunnel testing, it generated the ideal amount of downforce.

The presentation of the concept was a success. You remembered James Allison smiling as you explained the design, along with all of the calculations and results of the testing that you and your team had done. Aerodynamically, it was your best work, the fruit of many long hours in front of the computer, many cups of coffee, and even the occasional cans of energy drinks that you usually preferred to avoid.

On the day of the W13 presentation, you were sure that you’d delivered your master work, that you would finally be able to make your mark on the team’s history.

But then, reality came crashing down.

During the shakedown, it was clear that something was wrong. The car was unstable, bouncing wildly and unpredictably. It was something that hadn’t shown up in wind tunnel testing and simulations.

You had it wrong. Your concept required the car to be run as low to the ground as possible, which caused the floor to scrape and bounce over every miniscule bump on the track, because the suspension also had to be incredibly stiff. The issue could be alleviated by raising the ride height, but that caused the car to run with far too much drag, eliminating its straight-line speed.

Your masterpiece had turned into a monster.

Every race weekend was torture. The questions, doubts, and stares from your team made you feel like you were in a court of law, going through the longest trial of your life. It was your decision that put the team on the back foot. As much as Toto liked to tell the press that everyone in Brackley and Brixworth was working “flat-out” to unlock the car’s performance, you could tell that your coworkers were losing motivation. Lewis was suffering, George was suffering.

It was your fault. Only you could fix it.

You started working on the W14 by yourself, almost in complete secrecy. You would come home from work and sit in your office at home, doing calculations and making models for hours. You wanted to fix things, you wanted to offer the team a better car. You wanted to make your idea work.

When you pitched the project to Mike Elliott, he was skeptical. He didn't believe the concept was a good one, it hadn't worked up to that point in the season. You argued, you presented the differences, you showed the points you had reworked, especially on the floor. After reviewing the data and the simulations your had run with Frederik, he seemed more interested.

The presentation of the W14, with the sidepod design you had in mind, was an indication that the technical and sporting team still trusted you to create a car capable of winning championships. You had done it before, and you were sure that this time you had hit the nail on the head with the floor design.

And then, it all came crashing down again.

You took another deep breath and looked at your clock again, clenching your jaw. You hadn't eaten anything since lunch. In your mind, every minute of work counted, especially after what Mike told you that morning. At the same time, your body was begging for something, your stomach rumbling loudly.

You stood up from your chair, stretched your back and shoulders a bit, grabbed your phone and your work badge, and walked out of the aerodynamics offices, and out of the wind tunnel building. You were hoping the cool night air would refresh you, but as you walked slowly to the main building, you felt completely absent from your body. Your mind was too distracted, a swirling maelstrom of numbers from the simulation results of the new design. Your team had affectionately nicknamed the concept ‘WNewey’, as it took cues from the concept used by Red Bull’s car the year before.

Entering the main building, you nodded as you were greeted by the receptionist, and made your way towards the cafeteria, which was strangely empty. You approached the counter, where an employee was sitting, fiddling with her cell phone.

— Hi — you murmured. She stood up and slipped her phone into the pocket of her apron.

— Good evening. What can I get for you?

You looked around, trying to take in what was on offer to eat. Despite how hungry you were, everything just looked like blobs of colors to your tired eyes, and your stomach was churning too much to eat anything.

— Do you have any Monster, or any other energy drinks? — you asked quietly.

— We do. What flavor do you want?

— Dealer’s choice.

The woman went to the refrigerator on the back counter, took out a black can, and placed it on the counter. After scanning your badge and the payment terminal beeping to confirm your payment, you went to one of the tables and sat down. After opening the can and taking a sip of the sugary, syrupy drink, your gaze was lost on the table in front of you.

After a few minutes, you heard someone else walk into the canteen area, but didn’t look up until you heard a familiar voice.

— Good evening, Poppy. Could you make me an espresso, please?

You lifted your head and saw Toto Wolff, the team principal and CEO of the company, standing in front of the counter. He was holding his cell phone, in its fluro yellow case, in one hand, and his badge in another. His posture indicated that he had to be tired, too. His shoulders looked tense under the white dress shirt he was wearing. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, as they usually were.

— Of course, Mr. Wolff. You’re here late. Did you want that with milk?

— No, just sugar, thank you. And you know how it is, remote meetings with Crowdstrike executives in Texas — Toto replied. He turned his head slightly to the side, which allowed you to see his face. He was scratching his forehead with one hand, and scrolling through something on his phone with the other. He seemed tired. Poppy had just set his coffee cup down on the counter as he sighed deeply.

“Another year in the bin”, you thought, as you heard the sound of his badge scanning on the payment terminal. Then, you watched as he took his coffee and turned toward you with a small smile on his lips.

— Ah, good evening, Y/N — he said, his smile fading as he looked more closely at your face — Is everything okay?

You blinked, as you snapped out of your cycle of mental self-flagellation.

— Yeah, everything is… Fine.

He approached you, seeming to study your expression. His appraising look made you feel somewhat exposed, as if Toto was able to know exactly what you were thinking and feeling at that moment.

— What are you doing here at this hour?

You stayed silent for a few seconds.

— Working. Well, I came to get something to drink, but I'll be heading back to my office in a bit.

— Wait, weren’t you here this — he hesitated, glancing at the black and teal watch on his wrist — I suppose, yesterday morning?

— Yes.

— What are you still doing here? Aren’t you normally finished at five?

You sighed, pursing your lips.

— I'm working on the car.

— You can do that during the day. You don’t have to stay past midnight, you know.

You looked down at the floor.

— Yes, I do.

— Why?

— Because I — you started to say, but your voice cracked. You took a deep breath to try and compose yourself before continuing. — I need to save our year.

Toto put down his coffee cup and phone next to your drink can and pulled up a chair, sitting next to you. You felt a bit sheepish as you glanced up at him, noticing the concern in his expression.

— Y/N, you're not going to save our year — he said, in a low voice — Simply because there's nothing that needs saving.

You lifted your head, feeling your throat tighten.

— But the car…

— Of course, we're facing difficulties with the car, but it's not going to be one single individual that will solve all of its problems, especially working such long hours by yourself.

You let silence hang between the two of you. You could feel the misery welling up inside you, anger and anguish filling your chest. You felt like you were a ticking time bomb.

— It's all my fault — you stammered, your voice low, your eyes brimming with tears, and your lower lip trembling. He stared at you intently, seemingly trying to process what you'd just said.

— What?

— It's my fault — you repeated, before burying your face in your hands and starting to sob. The anger you felt at yourself for screwing up was painful. It felt like hot, acidic bile in your throat. All you wanted to do was prove yourself, but you threw away all of your team’s hard work, eight years of constructor’s victories, and seven years of driver’s championships, all because you were too invested in the idea of making your damn sidepod concept work, when every race on every circuit across the world was proof that it didn’t.

You were so deep in your misery that you didn't notice the moment when you were wrapped in a pair of arms, nor when a gentle hand came to the back of your head, pressing it into a broad, firm shoulder. You were surprised when you realized that Toto had pulled you into a hug, but it felt like a lifeline, something you needed. You’d been drowning in the feeling that you’d failed for far too long.

After a few more minutes of Toto letting you cry on his shoulder, in the most literal sense, you managed to pull yourself together enough to lift your face and look at Toto again. There was concern in his dark eyes as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your eyes

— Feeling better? — he asked. His voice was gentle and quiet.

— A little — you replied, swiping the back of your hand across your nose as you sniffled.

— Do you want to talk about it?

— About what?

— Whatever is making you cry in the factory canteen past midnight.

Your throat tightened again, but you resisted the urge to cry. “Breathe”, you told yourself, as you struggled to get air into your lungs. After some time, you managed to find your voice steady enough to start talking.

— Well, for starters, the zeropod concept was my idea. I was the one who invested all of my time and energy into it, and convinced everyone to get behind it. Worse than that, I was the one who insisted that we continue working with this concept in the W14, even though it didn't work out — you said, looking at your hands — In the end, I guess Mike is right. I threw this year into the bin.

— What? Mike said that to you?

You looked up at Toto. His expression changed from concern to what looked like irritation. It was unexpected, especially in reference to someone he worked with so closely.

— Yeah, this morning. We were talking about Bahrain and Saudi Arabia, and he said that the results were disappointing, and that he doesn't understand my insistence on this zeropod concept. I explained that the problem wasn’t the sidepods anymore, but the rear downforce — you hesitated for a moment — He wouldn't listen. He said I threw the team's year in the bin with this and that I should start thinking about doing something different next year.

Silence hung between you again. Toto flexed his jaw, looking thoughtful. It felt a little wrong to sell your boss out to the CEO of the company like that, but your frustration and tiredness was overriding your desire to avoid further conflict with Mike.

— Well, one thing I can tell you definitively is that Mike is wrong, Y/N.

— Toto...

— I understand his frustration, as he is the technical director and everything related to the design of the car comes down on his head. But, our performance this year and last year isn't anyone's fault in particular — he continued, grasping your hands in his — We're a team, Y/N. Everything we do, we do as a team. You came up with the idea of zeropods and presented them well. We couldn’t predict the issues with suspension and ride height, which did not help.

— But if we had…

— It's no use thinking about what could have been, Y/N. Of course, we would like to be further ahead in the development of the car this year, but we made a mistake. It’s okay to make mistakes, and it’s okay to admit you’ve made mistakes. The problem is not learning from it. And clearly you've learned, so much so that you're trying to make it right in the worst way possible.

— The… worst?

— Staying so late, especially when you arrive so early, is not the way to go about this. You think you have more time, but you will just end up burning yourself out, which will cause you to make even more mistakes. No mind, no matter how brilliant, is immune to weariness.

You took a few seconds to absorb what you’d heard, like you couldn’t believe it. Toto Wolff had just called you brilliant.

But why wasn’t it making you feel any better?

— I just wanted to stop feeling like this…

— Like what?

— Guilty — you whispered, ducking your head — I feel so guilty, all the time.

He sighed, bringing his fingers to your chin and gently lifting your face to look back up at him.

— A while ago, I read a very interesting poem. I can’t remember who wrote it or what it was called, but it struck me because it was all about how guilt implies that you have the power to change the course of things when, in fact, you may not actually have the power to do so. This ends up making the emotion of guilt somewhat of a trap. It tricks you into believing that you are always in control, when in reality, you are not.

You blinked, listening to his words and the way he was talking to you. It was strangely soothing.

— What I mean, is that no one has control over the consequences or impacts of their actions. What we can control, though, is our actions and intentions. And you had the best of intentions, Y/N. You thought outside the box, came up with an innovative solution and even gave us a win last year.

— One win out of twenty-two races, after eight winning seasons. It feels like nothing.

— It’s not nothing, Y/N. It’s proof that, working together, we can achieve our goals. It makes me very proud, not only of you, but of the entire team. At the beginning of last season, nobody would have expected us to get a 1-2. We worked as a team and proved everybody wrong.

His words immediately brought tears back to your eyes, and it wasn’t long before you started to cry in earnest again. Toto just pulled you back into hug, your head nestled on his shoulder.

You had always admired him, for his own resilience and mental strength. The way Toto always saw difficulties as a comfort zone made him an inspiration. You wanted to be like him, to become an even better person under adverse conditions, like graphite under pressure becomes a diamond.

Pulling away again, you ran your hand over your face, trying to dry the last of your tears. Then, you noticed that his shirt was wet from where you’d been crying onto it.

— Sorry — you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

— For what? — he asked, raising an eyebrow. As you pointed to the shoulder of his shirt, Toto smirked — No need to apologize, Y/N. I have a five-year old son, I've dealt with worse than a few tears on my clothes. Far worse.

His comment brought a small smile to your face.

— I can imagine — you murmured.

— Now, I want you to go to your office, get your things, and go home. And I don’t want to see you tomorrow… I mean, later today, at the office. You need to rest.

— Toto — you started, but he cut you off.

— Smashing your head against your keyboard is not the solution to our problems, Y/N. I insist. You will stay at home, off duty. If you think about showing up, you'll be stopped at the gates.

— You know that I can just work from home…

— Don't make me have IT revoke your access, Y/N.

— You wouldn't do that — you said, in a slightly indignant tone.

— Are you going to challenge me on that? — he asked, his voice teasing.

— No, Mr Wolff.

A satisfied smile appeared on Toto's face.

— Good — he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear — Oh, and one more thing. If Mike starts again with this talk about you ‘throwing our year into the bin’, come talk to me, please.

His request made your stomach lurch. You liked Mike. He didn't seem as open to your ideas as James was when he was the team's technical director, but he had his own vision, which you respected. The relationship between you and Mike was always cordial, and he was willing to challenge you on your ideas, but it never had been so acrimonious as it had gotten that morning.

— I don't want to hurt Mike.

— You will not hurt him. He will be hurting himself if he continues with this behavior. He knows we have a zero-blame culture here, and why, and how seriously I take it. Please let me know if this happens again.

You nodded.

After a good-natured comment about his coffee, which, by that point, must have gone cold, you got up from your table and returned to the office, downing what was left of your energy drink on your way back to the wind tunnel building, feeling relieved, and strangely light.

You turned off your computer and left the factory for your flat, which wasn't far away. After taking a shower and changing into your pajamas, you laid down on your bed and became acutely aware of how tired you were. It was as if every part of your body was screaming at you to take a break, and you finally got a chance to do so.

After sleeping a good part of the next day, you took the afternoon to clean up your flat, relax, and cooked yourself a nice meal instead of getting takeaway or heating a frozen dinner. You avoided picking up your phone to even look at it, as Toto had sent you a message on the company Slack telling that he would confiscate it if he saw you online.

You felt much better the day after. You felt rested, and felt better about yourself and your work. You had hope for things to get better, for you to get more confident. You were trying your hardest, and it was being noticed. There was nothing better than that.

So you thought.

When you arrived at your desk, you noticed a cardboard to-go cup sitting in front of your keyboard. The coffee inside was still hot. There was a blue Post-It note stuck to the lid, the handwriting on it familiar to you.

“Beware the trap of believing you always have control - TW”.

You smiled as you stuck the note to the bottom edge of your computer monitor.

You would not fall into that trap again.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fluff #f1 one shot #formula 1 one shot #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #formula one fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #wlffog #oneshotwlff

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daaydreamy · 1 year

Text

haywire

summary: a lost robot manages to find its way to y/n’s place.

warnings: none.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Do you have a-” It paused and closed its eyes for a second, before it snapped them back open swiftly. “A charging port?”

Y/N’s eyes were wide and her mouth had gone dry. She was standing there at her front door, looking directly at a robot that had just turned up at her house, seeing electricity zapping under its weirdly human-like skin and water dripping all over it since it was raining. She probably hadn’t said a single word for a solid five minutes, staring and blinking at the robot that had just asked if she had a charging port for it to plug into, because it was a robot.

“I am sensing a feeling of shock.” The robot nodded lightly, giving her a small smile, while her eyes widened just a little bit more and she clutched the edge of her door just a little tighter. “I understand, as I may look out of place at the moment, but I left my owner’s home for… certain purposes.” It then said and Y/N grew… suspicious, because, what the hell could it have done for it to leave? Did it kill its owner? Was it putting on a mask because it was an A.I. and could probably—definitely do that? Or was it treated badly by his owner? Y/N didn’t know.

The thing was, robots were quite a normal thing. Lots of people owned them, either for chores at their homes, as caretakers, or… you know. Many of them walked along the same streets humans did, being treated the exact same way people were treated. They were used and created for many different things, and were only evolving more and more with each new version that came out from the talented hands that made them. They had very human-like senses, and even complex emotions.

But Y/N had always been kind of weary around robots. Despite seeing them walking on sidewalks beside her often, she hadn’t ever thought of owning one, since she lived alone and didn’t have a reason to buy one. Plus, she was a little worried it would go crazy and murder her in her sleep and gathered other robots to dominate the world. A little.

“I,” Y/N gulped and gave him a slightly nervous smile, “I don’t have a charging port, sorry.” She started to close the door, until it swiftly grabbed the edge of the door, making her jump and take a step back. It opened the door slowly again and Y/N’s heart was definitely beating faster now, glancing over at the knife she still had out because she was chopping things for her dinner.

“I apologize, but I just need a place to stay. Could I at least sleep for a little while? I am only at 45%.” It let go of the door, thankfully, and stared at her with those weirdly detailed eyes that she knew were fake and made of intricate glass, waiting for her reply. It would twitch a little, due to being wet, and while the newer versions were water-resistant, its model wasn’t. It was one of the older models. Robots usually required charging ports to charge faster, but sleeping also helped them charge, only slower.

“Hey, there’s a few more houses down the street, I’m sure you could ask-”

The robot sighed, “They did not open.”

Y/N’s lips folded into a line and she closed her eyes for a second, attempting to gather herself but still failing miserably, walking closer to the door again and opening it a little wider.

“Fine, but only for a few hours, please.”

•••

“Do you… eat?”

The robot was in the middle of wiping himself down with a towel so he would stop twitching so much, sitting down on the couch afterwards, where Y/N laid out one of her extra pillows and a blanket. She thought it was best to just give it what it wanted so she didn’t end up dead on her living room floor with blood staining her carpet.

“Yes, but it doesn’t benefit me all that much.”

“Right, so…” She scratched her head lightly, “You can go sleep until you’re charged up enough, I’ll just eat in the kitchen. Good?”

It—or he nodded and smiled, “Good.”

Y/N nodded back and started heading back over to her kitchen, where she almost forgot she had food cooking, and immediately turned the stove off. She transferred her food onto a plate, all while keeping her eyes trained on the robot sleeping on her couch, lying as straight as a ruler with its hands placed on its chest. Its chest even rose and fell, as if it was breathing and had actual lungs, but all that was inside it were wires and metal.

She ate in silence, just watching the robot as it slept.

After eating, she placed her plate in the sink and decided to just wash it once the robot left because there was no way in hell that she was going to take her eyes off of it. She sat down on the couch afterwards, at its feet and at the very edge, examining it closely. Blue zaps were still running under its skin and it still twitched from time to time, making Y/N jump every single time it moved, like she was the predator and he was the prey.

She brought a hand up and suddenly felt the urge to touch it, inching her fingers closer and closer to the skin on its arm, but quickly pulling them back when the robot suddenly sat up, which made her stand up immediately. The robot’s eyes flickered over to her and it felt like it was scanning her, like it was looking through all the documents that were all about her in its mind.

“Did you, um, did you charge?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” She nodded, “So… Can you leave now?”

The robot moved to take its legs off of the couch, placing its feet on the carpeted floor, letting out another soft sigh.

“I know this is asking for a lot, but I have no other place to stay at the moment, and it’s raining outside. Could I please stay here for the night, or at least until it stops raining?”

“Hey, no way are you staying here. You said all you needed was to charge, and you did just that. Why did you leave your owner’s place anyway? Doesn’t that break, like, your rules or something? Maybe I should just call the cops and get you out of here, jesus.” Y/N rubbed her forehead as the robot looked at her and she waited for it to say something.

“Unfortunately, my owner hadn’t been treating me well, and I felt the urge to leave. Yes, it does break my “rules”, but I didn’t know what else to do. So, I left, and here I am now.”

Then suddenly Y/N was feeling… sympathy? For a robot?

“Isn’t there like a place for you to go that’s, like, specifically for robots like you?” She chuckled, “There should be, right?”

The robot shook its head.

“Oh god.” She mumbled and started rubbing her forehead again, looking at the robot, unsure of what to do. She sighed and dropped her hand back to her side.

“What, um, what model are you?”

“Model RK800, named Harry.”

a/n: hi!!! welcome to this weird clusterfuck my mind made up!!! this was based off of the game detroit: become human actually! i highly recommend checking out the game, super cool and choices-based! harry’s model in this is actually also connor’s, one of the main character’s, model as well 🤓🤓🤓 i was also listening to anaconda during this so

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite (couldn’t tag you!), @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie

#robotrry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #writing #Spotify

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ironspdr6700 · 3 months

Text

Athena in Callimachus' Hymn

I may be a little (too) obsessed with Athena. She has always been my favorite goddess in all of Greek mythology. So I've been kicking myself for taking so long to read Callimachus' Hymn V, also known as "The Bath of Athena."

In the hymn, Callimachus tells the story of the goddess with the nymph Chariclo…

… the mother of Tiresias, whom Athena loved very much, more than any of her companions, and never separated from her… many times the goddess made her ride on her chariot; neither the conversations of the nymphs nor her dancing choruses were pleasant to her unless Chariclo directed them.

But this relationship ended badly when Tiresias accidentally saw Athena naked when they were bathing in a fountain. Athena, angry, blinded him. Cariclo obviously didn't take it well and his words are quite harsh, including:

Is this how you goddesses demonstrate your friendship?

Athena, realizing that it was all an accident, compensates him by granting him the gift of prophecy, a staff to guide her steps, a long life, and the ability to keep her mind intact in Hades.

The funny thing is that she does it specifically for two reasons:

One. Because Cariclo cares

Partner, don't complain; I have many other gifts reserved for him for love of you.

Two. Athena doesn't like hurting children (cough… Madeline Miller… cough)

It is not pleasant for Athena to snatch children's eyes.

The curious thing about the hymn is that you begin to notice a pattern that Athena's relationships with other women usually end badly. In Apollodorus, her best friend Pallas, whom she accidentally killed, is mentioned; and in Servius's comments on the Aeneid she mentions Myrmex, a maiden from Attica who was loved by Athena until she took credit for the invention of the plow, which had been Athena's creation, and the angry goddess transformed her into an ant.

I know that those of us who read the Odyssey make fun of the fact that "Athena likes to transform into a man", but I suppose that because of these kinds of experiences Athena feels much more comfortable on the battlefield and helping the heroes in their trials. And, of course, it also influences that she is a goddess fulfilling a masculine role (war) in ancient Greek society, so the authors seem to make an effort to "masculinize" the character of Athena (including Aeschylus in his Eumenides). In the same hymn, Callimachus tells the audience (the maidens in charge of carrying the statue of Athena in Argos during a ritual) not to wear perfumes because:

Athena does not like mixed ointments.

Instead, is requested to bring an oil appropriate for men for the goddess:

bring now nothing but virile oil, with which Castor, and also Heracles, anoint themselves.

But it always ends up recognizing that Athena is, always, a maiden (Prómachos)

And bring him a comb of pure gold, so that she may comb her hair, after anointing her perfumed curls.

I don´t know. She is so complex... so problematic... so incomprehensible... OF COURSE I LOVE HER!

#greek mythology #athena #the odyssey #greek gods #Callimachus #hymns #pallas #pallas athena

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booksandabeer · 10 months

Note

Hi,

First of all thank you for all the recs you do, it couldn’t be easy doing all that. I just wanted to ask you about your favourite fics where Steve and Bucky were already together during first avenger and get back together in the future? Once again, thank you so much. Even if you don’t answer this I would still be grateful because I got so many of my favorite fics from your blog. You’re amazing and take care.

Hi!

Thank you very much for your kind words. It's lovely to hear that I could help you find some of your favorite fics. 🥰

I've sat on this ask for a few days now because it's actually a really difficult one for me to answer/find recs for without getting into things that can be quite, uh, awkward to discuss "on main." But I will try. As always, I'm going to ramble, so I'll put this under a cut.

(There will be fic recs in here, I promise. Just scroll down if you want to skip the waffling.)

So. When it comes to fics set in canonverse, I mostly stick to either stories that end before the war or stories where Steve and Bucky only get together once they meet again in the future. I hardly read fics with the premise you've described in your ask because—and this is where it gets dicey—they are rarely ever done in a way that I personally find satisfying.

Here’s the thing: If you read a story set in canonverse, inevitably, at some point the war will arrive and with it: Peggy. Now there’s a much larger, much more complex discussion to be had here about Steve’s perceived sexuality, societal expectations of what constitutes "successful masculinity" in the 1930s/40s, and self-repeating and -reinforcing cycles of fanonization that I don’t want to get into right now, so I’ll just say this: Unless the author goes the polyamory route (which I personally don’t care for and therefore don’t read; at least not in that particular combination), usually none of the characters involved come out of such a scenario looking their best or like they haven’t received a personality transplant from one chapter to the next. I know that some people love that kind of conflict and are really into the angsty drama that comes with it—and they may find my stance on this boring and square—but to be honest with you, there’s already plenty of angsty drama in any story involving Steve and Bucky to begin with; I don’t need this on top of it.

And also—look, to be very blunt about it: If I click on a Steve/Bucky story I want to read a Steve/Bucky story, and decidedly not a story about Steve falling in love with Peggy halfway through—especially not when he’s already been practically married to Bucky for years. I'm okay with scenarios where Steve falls in love with her (or the idea of her, really) because he cannot or thinks he cannot be with Bucky for reasons ranging from very reasonable to entirely idiotic, but in a world where they are already together? Honestly, no thanks. I don't want it.

(Also, let's not even pretend that I don't have a huge Bucky-bias.)

But! you asked for recs and not 500 words of waffling, so I went through my lists and bookmarks to find stories that either try to grapple with this *problem* in a sensitive and thoughtful manner, find elegant ways around it, or simply skip over it entirely.

Here we go:

(Note: The exact meaning of 'Being Together' can vary greatly from story to story)

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by newsbypostcard | 6 parts, 146K, T-E

Author's summary: "You keep asking me what I want," Bucky manages, eventually. "But on any given day, my number one priority is to get through the day alive and myself, and to do it without killing anyone. Everything else is extra." Each work is a standalone.

-> A Post-CW AU that also tells Steve and Bucky's history with each other through flashbacks. Apart from this series, you can really read any story by this author because they do this neat thing where they use roughly the same pre-war/wartime backstory and then depending on when they wrote it and where MCU canon was at the time, the fics branch off from there. Plus, all of their stories are simply wonderful and I will alway recommend them any chance I get.

The Good Morrow by Hark_bananas | 75K, E

Author's summary: Every night, Steve falls asleep and finds himself dreaming about a diner, and every night he finds Bucky waiting for him there. But in the waking world, Bucky has disappeared, gone on the run after the fall of the Triskelion and Project Insight, and the strange dream that they share may be the only way that Steve has to bring him home.

après nous le déluge by tomorrowsrain | 9K, T

Author's summary: After us, the deluge. Steve and Bucky break, mend, and try to find their place in the world without the mantles of Captain America or the Winter Soldier. AU, post Civil War.

-> Part 1 of gale song series, the second part of which which I recced in my Road Trip Rec List. In fact, there are quite a few fics on that list that fit the premise of 'together before/during the war and getting back together in the 21st Century,' so if you haven't already, you might want to take a look at it!

Roll On by jaxington | 3 parts, 306K, T-M

Author's summary: In 1938, there's a bar in Brooklyn called Sully’s where people are safe to be themselves. Behind the bar, a girl pours drinks. She's always got a big smile for Steve and she says queer like it's a good thing. On a regular basis, she takes his shoulders in her hands and tries to shake sense into him, saying, "When will you do something about that best friend of yours?" In 2012, Bucky’s gone, but Steve’s not, and the girl’s hands are too old to shake him. She does her best to make him see sense anyway. Steve had people who loved him before the war, and it turns out a few of them are still around when he finally comes home.

Practice Makes Perfect by nekare | 10K, M

Author's summary: And it’s just. It’s too much. Weeks of pain and months of missing Steve and his mouth and the stupid shit that comes out of it; years of molding himself to his back at night and pretending there’s nothing else to it apart from sharing warmth; a decade of his stomach twisting with the foolish desire to make Steve laugh. It's August and sweltering when Steve asks, out of nowhere, if Bucky wants to try kissing. Just to see what it's like. Bucky then spends far, far too many years pretending it didn't mean anything at all.

a hat, a horse (a Hyundai), and the will to ride by synonym4life | 67K, E

Author's summary: After Steve and Bucky rescue their pals from the Raft prison, they decide to dig deeper into Zemo’s involvement in the UN headquarters’ bombing which sends them on a backpacking trip across select European countries. Steve and Bucky believe this is a story about their mission. Scott Lang and Sam Wilson, who join them halfway through, believe it’s a story about their Eurotrip (and they’re probably right). This writer, however, has been waiting to tell you that the fic’s true mission is Steve and Bucky missioning towards missionary. Follow them on their journey across Europe in tiny cars, packed subway trains and even on skis as they tumble down the Swiss Alps (in a fun way this time!), all the while reigniting untold feelings of the past through inappropriate sexual encounters and terrible communication skills.

Five times Steve kissed Bucky by paragon | 16K, T

Author's Summary: (+ once, finally, it was the other way around)

-> I'm very amused by how short this summary is, but the fic really is exactly what it says on the tin: Steve and Bucky kissing, pre-war to post-CA:TWS.

I Wanna Live in the Hidden Parts of Your Skin by Voylitscope_speed | 10K, E

Author's Summary: Sometimes, Steve looks at Bucky across the floor of their apartment or in the middle of the sidewalk, and it's not goddamn fair how good Bucky looks. It's not fair how Steve, who's spent his whole life fighting with his lungs for air and his heart for a steady beat, sometimes looks at Bucky and his breath and pulse are wrong for reasons that aren't his lousy health at all. And ever since the day with the purple ink, Steve can't stop thinking about people being canvases, like the models at that exhibit. Steve keeps thinking that Bucky'd be the most stunning canvas a guy could ever ask for. (Or: Steve and Bucky discover a kink in 1940. They find a reason to come back to it 80 years later. )

All The Angels and The Saints by Speranza | 48K, E

Author's summary: In which Steve Rogers loses God and finds God and loses God, and also: Bucky.

-> Look, this fic does some of the exact things I said above I usually try to avoid, but (1) it doesn't really do it (kind of, it's hard to explain), and (2) it would be *absolutely ridiculous* to not include it when putting together a list of fics with a pre-war to post-WS arc. This fic is legendary for a reason. It rewired my brain. It was one of the first Stucky fics I read that made me realize and appreciate the full potential and beauty of this ship, and to this day, it remains one of my absolute favorites.

▶ I'm really sorry that I didn't write something for every individual fic like I usually do, but I'm moving back to my home country in less than three weeks, so time is very limited right now. I hope this is still ok, and that you'll find something on this list that you like!

▶ There is a series that would've been perfect for this list but unfortunately it was deleted without warning a few months ago. If anybody has a saved copy of apricotcake's long is the road that leads me home that they'd be willing to share with me, I would be forever grateful! I'm still so sad that it's gone and angry with myself that I didn't download it when I had the chance. :(

#stucky fic rec #stucky rec list #stucky #stucky fic #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #asks #my recs

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noperopesaredope · 5 months

Text

Random Angsty BNHA Bakugou AU

So I was reading this crackfic (absolutely hilarious btw), and the third chapter, while comedic, gave me an idea for a potentially angsty AU (don't have a name for it yet).

So, like in canon, after Bakugou learns that Deku is quirkless, he starts bullying him and beating him up sometimes. But the thing is, Bakugou is five years old, and doesn't completely know how to control his quirk, or were the limit is.

(They are still little kids btw, and their relationship is in a complicated place where Deku still kinda views Bakugou as a friend) One day, while bullying Deku, Bakugou accidently takes things a little too far, and creates a way bigger explosion than usual. Right in Deku's face.

This obviously kills him, and deeply traumatized Bakugou. Because, ya know, he accidently killed his friend(?) as a little kid. After this incident, Bakugou becomes a lot more cautious about his quirk, and a bit more reserved. Well, reserved isn't quite the right word. He's still his angry, pissed off self, but he's also a lot more closed off, and prefers to avoid people. He acts mostly the same, but lacking a lot of the confidence and arrogance he has in canon.

He's still angry and can get pissed off easily, and will quickly escalate to yelling, but he rarely gets physical (still a bit afraid of his own quirk accidently killing someone again, especially since it's gotten a lot more powerful).

Bakugou also secretly feels a lot of guilt over what happened, and while he doesn't let it show (since he rarely talks about the incident), he definitely has a ✨complex✨

However, despite this, he still wants to be a hero, and while he's not sure if he deserves it, he feels compelled to sign up for UA anyways. Maybe it's his old childhood desire lingering on. Maybe it's to save people and stop more tragedies from occurring. Maybe it's to carry on Deku's own dream of being a hero. Who knows? Not Bakugou.

The main thing that will be a major part of his arc in this AU is the fact that he holds back a LOT. It actually changes his whole fighting style, because as much as he doesn't completely care all that much about the safety of villains (he's not that OOC in this), he still has a lot of discomfort around aiming his explosions directly at people (flashbacks may occur when he does so). This means he will end up finding ways to fight without directly aiming his attacks, instead using his surroundings and strategizing more.

While he's still pretty good at fighting, its clear that he's actively avoiding using his full potential, kinda like pre-tournament Todoroki (but for VERY different reasons). So he's much more ~mysterious~, but people don't realize it at first, because he seems relatively "normal" and isn't completely closed off, just prickly.

It also makes his dynamic with the class a bit interesting, because they are some of the first people he's begun opening up around ever since the incident. And he's more openly pissed off around them (though they all realize that that's just his personality and actually a sign that he feels comfortable with them). So when Bakugou's past is finally revealed (possibly not to everyone at once, but to a select few people), it's a big shock and stuff. They knew he was closed off and a bit of a bitch, but they didn't recognize there might be underlying trauma present.

I think it could be interesting if it was a slow burn reveal for some of the characters, starting with the tournament arc. Aizawa notices him holding back a lot during the early fights (maybe he noticed a bit during class, but never acknowledged it), and decides to confront Bakugou about it in private. Eventually, after a bit of arguing, Aizawa has him backed into a corner, and Bakugou doesn't admit everything at once, but he does reveal that something bad did happen at some point that makes him reluctant about using his quirk.

Aizawa understands this, but tells him he still needs to learn to use it, despite the fear. And thus, Bakugou's arc properly begins.

The first person he would fully admit some of the details to would probably be Kirishima (though Denki could be a much funnier yet sweet alternative. But maybe both at once could work), though in one of those quieter scenes. Maybe, in the middle of a battle (probably against LoV), Kirishima (or alternatively Denki) asks Bakugou why he won't use his quirk against the villains, and Bakugou lashes out a bit at him. Kirishima/Denki realizes that this is really sensitive to Bakugou, and not just a normal secret. So tells him that Bakugou can tell him on his own terms.

This is one of the first/few times that someone has actually let Bakugou have space rather than proding, and he isn't fully sure how to react, but it's also a relief.

Then, later, after the battle, when all is said and done, Kirishima/Denki and Bakugou are having a quiet moment together. And this is when Bakugou decides that he is comfortable telling the truth. He keeps it mostly vague, but does say that when he was a little kid, he was a lot more cocky and confident using his quirk. But one day, he used a much bigger explosion towards a former friend of his, and the other kid didn't survive.

It's a very quiet and sad scene and depending on the character, could be pretty interesting.

The rest of Class 1A might actually figure it out themselves, or at least realize something is Up™ after a more unusual outburst from Bakugou (maybe someone jokingly calls Kacchan and he lashes out).

Anyways, that's MOST of this AU. But there are a few small potential directions the overarching plot can go.

In a normal version of this AU, All Might won't need to pass down One for All, or its his natural quirk, or whatever. I'm handwaving plot stuff. I think it could make things pretty interesting all on its own, just exploring Bakugou on his journey to become a hero with his whole complex.

But if we want to spice things up, maybe Bakugou ends up somehow proving to All Might that he deserves OfA, and All Might decides to make Bakugou his successor. Bakugou is actually reluctant at first, but then accepts it.

Then we have things a little closer to canon but with the added element of a "Bakugou Gets One for All" AU, except Deku isn't there because Bakugou accidently killed him when they where children. This actually can give him minor parallels to Shigaraki, as the dude DID kill his family using his quirk as a kid, and Bakugou secretly relates to elements of that, as well as the idea of having a potentially fatal quirk.

IDK, it could be interesting, but someone else would need to add all the details. I could also have someone else take OfA, and Bakugou's still a major supporting character, but the whole "Deku died" thing is his secret backstory. Or Bakugou's still the main character of the AU, and the OfA thing is an underlying major plotline we find out about later. And it's a whole big reveal. Maybe it could be Kirishima or something. That would be insane.

So those are (most of) my ideas for this AU. Sure, it's a bit basic, and pretty OOC (then again, what canon-divergent AU isn't at least a little OOC?). But I love it all the same. Give me your thoughts and suggestions, and feel free to add more or even write fics with it (though please credit me for the concept). I'd love your feedback!

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