have you looked into the “normal couple/yaoi couple/yuri couple - i see no difference love is love!” meme yet?
You mean this one? Let's see...
幸せという夢を — めいこ
Episode 08 — Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi - World's Greatest First Love Season 2
Official possibly edited Artwork — Strawberry Panic!
Episode 05 — Fullmetal Alchemist
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sometimes i get the very strong urge to write a comes back ??? fic for bakugou but the more i think about it, the more i realize how emotionally taxing and honestly horrifying it would be.
you and bakugou spend a few years in that weird will-they-won't-they stage before you officially start seeing each other seriously, and then it takes some time to adjust to having a pro-hero for a partner — so it's not always easy. until the time goes by and you have a break up scare or two and things finally level out, and you figure out how to talk to each other and you fall into the beautifully warm comfort of just being together, in love.
and then he fucking dies. in a heart-explodey, blind-in-one-eye kind of way.
the two years that follow are just — time passing, like pages in a chapter you can't understand the words to. you know grief in a way you never could have comprehended before, you wonder what it's all for and how you'll go on. you're angry at him for sacrificing his stupid life and angry at the world for taking him from you, but you're so deeply, down to your bones, heartbroken over losing him.
and you're not the only one; more than any of his friends that you see, deku is the one who is there for you the most. calls you daily and pulls you out of bed, makes sure you eat because he knows that's what kacchan would want. lovingly flings out a few gruff insults that make you laugh until you're both crying in your kitchen. it means something, maybe, that you both can just mourn in the presence of one another, without judgement or care.
your relationship gets a little — dependent. not romantic, at least not for you, but it's like you need the other person for the bits of bakugou they hold that you don't. the memories and the laughs and the bad times as well as the good. the secrets katsuki would never tell you, and the tenderness izuku was never shown.
it never gets easier. every day is just another day. if you think about it for too long, it all comes crumbling down. you're almost having to disassociate through your life just to make it, and that's hard when the whole city mourns him, too. but you do it. every single day, even on the worst of them.
izuku calls you a little more than two years after, in the middle of the night.
sounding way too awake and out of breathe, though you don't think that's necessarily out of the ordinary, considering his profession. he's a very hyper-fixation kind of guy; you can only imagine what hobby he's picked up and also mastered in the last 48 hours.
he asks if he can come pick you up from your apartment because he "needs to show you something important" and you agree, even if it doesn't feel like it usually does, when the nights are long and you both need someone to talk to. this feels — urgent. a bit worrisome.
you don't know where he takes you, but he's quiet the whole way there. in an old sweater, hair mussed, bags under his eyes like he really hasn't slept in the last 48 hours.
("stupid flighty fucker," katsuki would say, sometimes, when the weight of the world was weighing too heavily on the number one hero's shoulders, and even if he would huff and puff and grit his teeth, you'd notice him checking his phone more often than usual. taking every phone call that came without hesitation.)
you almost want to tell izuku that, in the car, because that's what you do, that's how you've kept him alive between the two of you; kacchan would make a point to tell you that's not how generators work, in the shitty horror film you and deku go see, that kacchan wouldn't dare sit through.
("no, he would," you argue, solemn as the lights in the theater warm back to life, as it empties. "he would."
and after a long, heavy beat, izuku would agree. "yeah. he would.")
izuku brings you somewhere that's too clinical to be as quiet and as dark as it is: inside, the walls and floors are sterile with anti-septic but the lights are off, in every hallway. the only visibility comes from a small lamp that's in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small handful of people you don't know, at all, already there. waiting.
you say his name in a small, concerned question, and when he takes both his hands in yours, they're warm and too wide and sweaty. his eyes glow, but in a way you don't recognize. everything he says to you is — gibberish, a mish-mash of worry and half-sentences and all the warning bells are going off in your head.
"y-you can't freak out, okay? you have to—i can explain all this when...when the time is right."
"you said that you would give anything to have kacchan back, remember? you said—you would do anything."
"i know this sounds—i know how this sounds, okay? but nothing is impossible!"
"i just need you to trust me."
and up until now, you had no reason not to. but you're not sure when he slept last, or even when he ate last, or why he's muttering things about his quirk, how he and katsuki are connected somehow, in ways he's not able to explain.
or why you can faintly hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor just beyond the only closer door in this wing of the hospital.
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Tim hardly ever wears seatbelts.
It’s not a conscious choice at this point really, he just never got into the habit. When he outgrew his last car seat at age five, his parents didn’t bother getting him a booster and just let him sit in the normal seat, so the belt always felt like it was cutting into his neck and he hated it. He put up a big fuss about it once on the way to some important event, and his parents just huffed, “Fine, don’t wear it then. Fly out the window for all I care” and that was that. They never forced him again.
He just so rarely has to wear one that it slips his mind. Buses don’t have seatbelts. Motorcycles don’t have seatbelts. The Batmobile has them, but they’re rarely used due to the necessity for split-second drop ins and getaways.
It’s not until he’s 17 and driving with Jason somewhere that he finally gets called out on it. Not only called out, but told in a no nonsense sort of way “This car ain’t moving till I hear a fucking click. What, did they stop showing ‘Red Asphalt’ in drivers ed while I was dead??”
(They do still show it. Tim just slept through that class)
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I'm rewatching Trollhunters in the background right now, and the disfunctional mother son relationship between Jim and his mom is making me crazy.
Like, he's taking care of the household and his mother for years as a teenager and before probably. She is sometimes giving half hearted comments about him not having to do so much, but very obviously she's not gonna make him stop do all the cooking and cleaning. Y'know. Both because they've been living like this for years, and because it's obviously also very comfortable to have someone do all the house work.
Then Strickler comes into the picture, and if we ignore the whole Troll and changeling side of the story, Barabara gets very offended cause Jim doesn't want her to meet him privately. Again, ignoring the whole magic and trolls stuff, STRICKLER IS JIMS TEACHER. If Jim hadn't figured out that Strickler was a changeling he probably wouldn't have a problem with it, but the fact that he does, no matter the reason, should be enough for Barbara to put a stop to the relationship. Her child is clearly uncomfortable with her seeing/dating that guy, for whatever reason, and even clearly vocalized it. But she doesn't care about, or rather, she tells Jim that she "wouldn't expect something like that" from him. Obviously not, cause she may see him like her child/teenager he is, BUT DOESN'T TREAT HIM LIKE ONE.
And then Jim, unknowingly to Barbara, becomes the Trollhunter, and his behavior changes. He's suddenly doing reckless stuff, sneaking out, getting bruises, landing in detention and even at the police station, barely avoiding a police report. What does she do? Asking him what's going on? If everything's alright at school? If he has any other problems? Maybe trying to lower his workload around the house, which again, he's doing most of that as a teenager and longer probably.
Nah. She doesn't do anything until he lands in the hospital. Except for again, dismissing him rather negatively at the one topic he's openly expressing any negative opinions about (Strickler). And after he lands in the hospital she now starts not asking questions, but demanding answers. Demanding answers from a teenager in a difficult situation who is also now acting much more like a teenager than he ever did before, from her point of view at least. Except she obviously doesn't know how to deal with a teenager, cause she has never had to raise or live with a teenager. She instead lived with a child pretending to be an adult for years, that was partly much more of an adult than she was, who did way to much work even before Jim became the Trollhunter. So she throws punishments at him and grounds him, but does he listen?
No. Cause why should he? Not only is he dealing with things much more important than being grounded, yknow, saving the world, he's trying to protect her from the sheer knowledge of the supernatural and physically protecting her from getting harmed. And again, for the majority of the time since his dad left he pretended to be an adult. He was and is the main adult in the household, dealing with important things she doesn't even know about.
The only one's treating Jim like a teenager are teachers, other children and Blinky and Aaargh sort of when they're not in the middle of Troll business. Strickler, in the first episodes where Jim doesn't know about his true identity, is much more of a parental figure to Jim (also after his redemption later on tbh) than his mother.
In summary: Barbara is treating her son like an adult, almost like a partner, instead of a child/teenager. And when that isn't possible anymore she doesn't know how to properly treat him. She also doesn't really care that her son is uncomfortable with her being around Strickler, or Strickler in general. And it takes Blinky telling her (when Jim is 16) that Jim might be affected by his father leaving when he was five years old.
Jim meanwhile is treating his mother more like a child/teenager instead of the adult and MOTHER that she is. Seeing her as his responsibility. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. Telling her to rest and take breaks.
They obviously love each other other. And their relationship might not be toxic, but it's very much disfunctional. In a way that is mostly negative for Jim.
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part 3 to eddie’s tattoo saga, feat. girl-dads!steddie
part 1, part 2
The first time Eddie’s oldest daughter draws on his arm with her Crayola markers, Eddie immediately gets it tattooed onto him permanently.
She’s barely two so it’s mostly scribbles, but she’d never done it before, and she’d looked up at him with this big, proud, cheesing smile when she was done, and Ed had been caught so off guard with just how insanely much he loved her – that indescribable love parents felt for their children that, before becoming a parent, Eddie had thought he’d be able to beat the stereotypes and describe, but Moe proved him to be incorrect just about the second she came along – and he hadn’t known what else to do.
He doesn’t even really think about it, just takes a photo so his artist will get the colors right and has her put it in an empty spot on the sleeve he’s been working on for years.
With Eddie and Steve’s second daughter, Robbie, it goes mostly the same. She's just about two years old and draws a collection of swirling scribbles on the back of his hand. Steve advises him to not get it tattooed in the same spot, and Eddie can understand why it might not always be opportune to have permanent child-scribbles in such a visible spot, so, again, he has his artist use it to fill in a gap in the sleeve on his left arm.
When their littlest girl, Hazel, is born, Ed intentionally leaves a spot on his bicep open for whenever she feels so inclined to draw on him like her big sisters had. She takes her sweet time, so much so that Eddie starts to get nervous that she might never end up doing it at all, and he wasn’t going to ask her. It had to be a natural thing, obviously. In the end, she’s nearly five years old, sitting in his lap with a pack of markers while he reads a book to her (Charlotte’s Web, because it was the first chapter book he’d read aloud to both Moe and Robbie, and now it's Hazel’s turn), coloring inside the lines of the tattoos he already has when she gets to the empty space on his arm he’d left just for her. A little bit later, it’s filled with a marker drawing of a blue house next to a green tree, with a yellow sun above the chimney.
“It’s our house,” Hazel tells him.
Eddie calls to schedule the tattoo session the second he finishes the next chapter.
He gets the okay from his artist to bring Hazel with him to the appointment, which he hadn’t done with Moe and Robbie because they’d been too little. They hadn’t had the disposition for it either, but Hazel is their sweetest baby, all solemn and shy, and the session is right before her usual naptime, so once he’s in the chair, she just sits in his lap and quietly watches his artist work until she dozes off about halfway through the process.
Eddie spends much of that session lost in thought – he’s becoming introspective in his old age (forty-five and some change).
He’s thinking about all the tattoos he’s gotten, all the spontaneous ones he’s gotten for Steve and for their girls. He’s thinking about what that means.
In the family that Eddie and Steve have built, Steve is the one taking all those pictures and home videos and stuff. He’s the one who gets photos printed, framing their favorites and hanging them around the house and setting small ones on side tables, sticking others to the fridge with little magnets they’ve collected over the years, storing the rest in overstuffed shoe boxes he swears he’ll organize into photo albums someday (but their life is so hectic he probably won’t ever get around to it).
This is Eddie’s version of that.
This is his way of displaying to the world how much he loves his family, this thing that he’d spent years pretending he didn’t want because that was easier to sit with than the belief that it wasn’t even attainable for him, that now he gets to have.
It’s fucking incredible, is what it is, and it deserves to be documented.
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