#just realised that i forgot to draw his scar

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Two

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 396 ~ Amelia

His preferred it when I called him Jake. Whenever I had cause to use his name. He began to move around on his own on the fourth day, stumbling into my side tables and clutching his ribcage with each tumultuous step. Like a fawn on trembling newborn legs.

It was somewhat endearing. The way he smiled through the pain and sat with me at the kitchen table eating vegetable soup and crackers in the silence within which we had both become accustomed to. An impenetrable veil between us that didn't seem to want to come down.

We shadowed one another. His eyes averting to the ground whenever I stole a glance. My concern for his healing injuries something I didn't want him to confuse with mounting interest. Even though I had begun to actively consider him, despite my inward protests that he would one day want to continue his search for others.

He was a gentle enigma. My fear that he might gain enough strength to hurt me dissipated with each passing hour. When he didn't sleep he would sit by the fire with a book, his gaze easing up from the pages whenever I had reason to pass. Sometimes he would smile, other times he would just follow me with his eyes before reverting back to his story.

I didn't want to come to rely on his presence. I had made my choice to stay at the cabin and try to survive. I had driven across the country and seen nothing but desolate emptiness. The hopes of my family sitting on the cabin porch waiting for me dwindling with every mile I'd reached.

I didn't want him to become necessary to me. Even though I suspected that I had become somewhat necessary to him, if only whilst he was still recovering. I prepared myself for the day he would stand up and announce that he was leaving. That day drawing unflinchingly closer by the second.

"Amelia." He said, the sound of my name on an unfamiliar voice sending an unrequited chill down my spine.

There was nothing nefarious in his tone. He sat, quite pleasantly, on the chair which he had commandeered for reading and placed his book on the coffee table by the fire.

"Are you in pain?" I replied, shooting up from my place at the kitchen table where I'd been peeling carrots. "Can I get you something?"

The easing of a joyous smirk curled within the corners of his mouth. As if he was amused by me. Shaking his head as I stood in the open space between the kitchen and the den. Feeling a little foolish for rushing to him like that for no particular reason at all.

"Nothing a little whiskey couldn't fix."

He knew better than to ask for a drink whilst on the course of medication I'd put him on. He was staring at me with a mischief that would usually incite me to join, but I'd tried to keep a professional distance. He was my patient, not my guest.

"I had to put you on a course of antibiotics for the wound to your head." I explained, "I didn't want there to be a risk of infection. If you need some pain relief, I can grab you some tylenol."

His shoulders slumped. And he forgot himself for a moment. Hissing back a stab of pain as he eased back into the chair. He was a terrible patient. Pain didn't sit well with him, despite the fact that I had noticed two major scars running up either side of his left forearm. They were neat and perfectly stitched, no doubt from surgery rather than an open wound. I had meant to ask him about them, stopping myself when I realised that I shouldn't get to know him.

"Forgive me." He sighed, "Sometimes I just need a little something... to forget."

He was bored. I'd seen boredom before. When people who could barely stand would fight to get out of bed just to shift their perspective a little. Nights in the hospital when I'd catch my patients trying to inch their arms up the vending machine to retrieve snacks simply because there was nothing else to do. Nothing good ever came of boredom and he seemed to know this, his gaze shifting around the room looking for something else to do.

"Would you like to help me peel these carrots?" I offered, knowing that it was better than him hankering for a drink.

I pulled out a chair for him as he limped over, seemingly grateful for the distraction. It was still early in the afternoon, but the sun had already dipped below the surrounding trees and it felt much later. I switched on the oil lamp in the centre of the old rustic table, the remains of knives that had been sunk into the old wood scattered the grain. And he noticed.

"Peeled many carrots at this table?" He asked, running his fingers along a particularly deep divet.

What I could offer him, I would grant him. The way he asked so sweetly meant that I couldn't ignore him. My manners were still in there, somewhere. I handed him a peeler and a bunch of carrots encrusted in mud and bade him peel.

"My grandparents didn't believe in waste." I replied, driving the blade down away from me a little more aggressively than I'd intended. "I don't remember a time where this table wasn't here."

He nodded and began peeling a little slower than I would have liked. Taking his time to shave each side meticulously in careful hands so that he didn't cause himself unnecessary pain. Sitting at a strange angle on the admittedly uncomfortable dining chairs.

"It's a nice place." He surmised, "I feel like time stopped here a long time ago and never really caught up."

I quite liked that analogy.

"I guess so." I agreed. "Coming here always felt like I was a child again."

Perhaps he sensed my unease. He didn't say much else for a while, sitting with me in that comfortable quietness as we peeled and chopped and prepared another batch of soup for the coming week. Every now and then he would look up from what he was doing as if to check my mood. To make sure that I was even tempered. And I would try to meet his gaze with something reassuring. Even if I felt like my space was being inadvertently invaded.

"You see places like this in movies." He mentioned, breaking a tension that had seemed to come from nowhere. "Old cabins in the woods. Cosy little fireplaces. Beaten up old furniture and appliances that have no business in the modern world."

I quite liked that analogy, too.

"Well, I think that was the whole point." I shrugged, taking the peeler from him as I took the pot over to the sink. "I don't think my grandparents wanted anything to do with the modern world. They liked it out here. They liked the steady pace. My Dad used to say that they were waiting for the end of the world. Seems a little like a prophecy now..."

I'd said too much. I didn't want him to reel me in, I didn't want him to know me any better than I wanted to know him. The need for conversation had been somewhat diluted with him spending most of his time asleep. But now he was wide awake. Asking questions and spending time with me. And I was terrified of it.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Amelia." He said softly, turning in his seat to face me despite the fact I knew it hurt him to do so. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. You saved my life."

His debt of gratitude was misplaced. I'd had no choice in the matter. If I had walked away from that smoking wreck I'd have damned myself regardless, even if faith was something I'd long since abandoned. There was still a part of me that hoped for salvation. I just hadn't known it would come the way that it had. And it was true. I was afraid of him. But perhaps not in the way he perceived.

I was certain that he wasn't going to try and force himself upon me or steal anything. There was a softness to his demeanour that I had picked up on almost the moment he'd regained consciousness. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was which scared me so much. Other than my intense reluctance to have him become detrimental to me. It didn't really have a name.

"I'm sorry." I faltered, letting the sink run a little before filling the pot. "I've just been alone for so long..."

"As have I." He replied without hesitation. "I've driven north and south, east and west. Towns and cities and country. I've slept in cars and trucks and houses that didn't belong to me. Eaten food out of a can and burned shit to the ground just to stay warm. There's nobody else out there. If there was, I'd have found them. I mean, I did...I found you."

The way he lingered on that last word made me not want to look at him. He was sitting on the edge of the chair, as if he was about to get up but couldn't. I turned away from him and filled the pot with water, doing anything that meant I didn't have to turn back around.

But I knew he was watching me. The kitchen was small, the window above the sink overlooking the woods outside. The gravel path leading up to the cabin winding down into encroaching twilight. I could see my reflection staring back in the dim lamp light. And I knew he could see the pain etched on my face through the glass.

"I'm just one person." I reasoned, "I'm not people."

All his belongings had been burned in the car wreck. He'd been wearing some of the shirts and slacks I'd found at the back of my Grandmother's wardrobe since his arrival. Clothes that were ill fitting and didn't suit him at all. He wasn't comfortable in them and I could see that when he rose from his seat. Not just in pain, but conscious of the way he looked as he appeared in the glass behind me.

"Together we are people." He said, keeping his voice low and soft. "I don't know about you, but I'm just glad to know I wasn't the only one left behind."

I did find some comfort in that. It wasn't something I would ever deny. I found the courage to meet his gaze in our reflection, both of us standing at the window and looking out whilst looking in.

"That's what I'm afraid of." I confessed, swallowing thickly on it as if it was trying to choke me. "What if we weren't left behind? What if..."

There was something in his face that let me know I was safe with him. Enough that I'd let my mouth run away with my thoughts again. Made him listen to me, understand me.

"It's ok." He said comfortingly, touching me for the first time with a careful palm to my shoulder, leaving me breathless where I stood. "Everything's going to be alright."

Day 12 ~ Jake

The grid gave up. I only realised when I reached Detroit and every house I broke into had no power. Every single street light failed to come on. Every single TV wore a blank screen. I couldn't cook a meal or enjoy a hot shower. Nowhere to keep me warm. It was as if everywhere was just giving up. Every last trace that mankind was ever here slowly slipping away.

I weaved through cars on the interstate that had been travelling when it happened. Whatever it was, the thing which had left cars with no drivers barrelling down all four lanes. I didn't want to give it a name. To name it would give it too much power and I knew I wasn't ready to search within myself for emotions that could overcome it, yet.

Dogs were roaming freely in the city, now. Calling out for their masters who would never come. I'd found a few dead ones in houses I'd passed through, unable to free themselves to go hunting or find food and water. Cats, too. The ones roaming free were slowly turning back to their primitive states. Others, dead behind locked doors.

I couldn't seem to find anywhere I wanted to stay around too long. The urge to keep moving ever prevalent. There was a fire in my belly that burned so fiercely I couldn't sleep anymore. Determined to find just a shred of humanity left in the world.

And I wouldn't rest until I had. Even the bones of where people had been were paper thin, echoes long since dimmed. I was losing all sense of time. Each day seemed to merge into the next until I found myself sitting on a curb outside the Detroit motown museum. A place where I had been so many times before. A landmark I could put some familiarity to. Only to feel more lost than I ever had before.

I missed my family. My girlfriend. I couldn't erase the sounds of their jovial laughter on Christmas day. Making the most of our cherished time together, which came so seldomly. The look on my parents' faces when we dropped our luggage at the door after months apart. My brothers and my sister all under the same roof we'd grown up in with our partners and our pets to celebrate for just a few precious days.

I couldn't move past it. The way I'd looked to the sky and thought, at first, it was a shooting star. Only for it to evaporate my senses and render me a prisoner within something I couldn't see. Blinded by the whiteness of it. Replaying it over and over for it to still make as little sense as it had on that very first day.

I sat on that curb and I roared. I let the tears come. The anger and the confusion. Waiting for just one voice to respond to my madness. To just ask me if I was ok and if I needed any help. To just let me know that I wasn't completely alone. To no avail. I was screaming into the ether for none to hear it.

Was I left behind? Or was I spared? Where had they gone? Were they taken or did they go willingly? What had I done to deserve this? What had they done to deserve this? If God had done this why did he forsake me? Or was I so beloved by him that I'd been left behind for a purpose not yet known to me?

I pounded my fist into the concrete. Until it was bloody and I could finally feel something. Aching for a resolution that simply wouldn't come. There was only me.

"Don't be fucking stupid, Jake." I told myself, gathering my bleeding hand into the folds of my t-shirt as I tried to figure out what my next move would be. "Nobody's coming."

That was the moment I realised I couldn't survive if I didn't keep moving. That I would die if I stayed in one place. Where there was nothing but memories and slowly decaying homes and I knew I had to tread through these places like a ghost until I found something that resembled another human being.

I thought I had a kinship with the open road. I had travelled it long and hard. But always with my brothers. Their camaraderie and company had been with me all the days of my life. And I knew that there was no music without Josh. There was no song in my heart without my twin. Only a gaping wound that bled for my counterpart. My soul cried out for him in ways that I never thought I'd have to endure. Of all the people I had loved the most, he was the most fundamental to me.

I'd walked through life with Josh, our paths weaving in parallel lines no matter where our feet would take us. Me with my guitar and him with his voice, knowing that we couldn't make it on our own. We didn't fit. There was nowhere for either of us if we were alone. I missed my little brother and my little sister. I missed our parents and I missed the woman I'd chosen to spend my life with. The echo of her laughter woke me from fitful sleep whenever my body gave in to it.

But it was Josh who left me feeling as if my being there was some grave anomaly. That wherever he had gone, I should have gone too. We came into this life together, surely we must go out of it together? I could still feel his presence in the corner of my eye. The outline of him at my side, faded whenever I turned my head to look. And the sadness of knowing I would feel his absence for the rest of my life was a burden I packed into my car and took with me wherever I would go.

That day it was the new centre one mall. I prized the automatic door open and stood in the empty atrium, my own footsteps too loud for me to tolerate. I couldn't bear the reverb of my boots on marble floor.

I didn't linger. I gathered enough supplies to last me a few weeks, not giving too much thought to what I would need. A winter coat and a few clothing items to replace the ones I'd hastily left behind. I grabbed some pain meds from the pharmacy and a few pouches of tobacco. Loading it straight into the back of my jeep, I felt the creepy chill of the empty mall still climbing up my spine as I sped away. Determined to put as many miles between me and civilisation as I could.

I didn't want to be reminded of it. I hit the road and left the city behind and didn't stop until my palms bled.

Day 2 ~ Amelia

I had to know.

Staring at the blurred outline of myself in the morgue fridge doors, I hesitated. I could feel the palms on both my hands grow sweaty against the cool chrome.

The morgue itself did not appear to look any different than any of the other white washed, sanitary rooms. Except for the slab behind me and a row of handles that once opened would reveal a truth I wasn't certain I was ready for.

I wondered which of the outcomes would give me the most grief. If I opened the door and found nothing there I would know that I'd been forsaken. But if I opened the door to find frozen corpses resting in body bags did that mean only the dead were meant to be left behind? Was I meant to be dead, too?

It did not make sense to linger. Although almost paralysed with the fear of what either outcome would be, I held my breath and gripped the handle tightly with sweaty hands that almost slipped right off.

The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. All I knew was the dragging sensation of my stomach as it dropped. I almost wished that I'd stayed upstairs. On the empty wards where I was none the wiser. Where my ignorance was truly bliss.

There, the shape of what I knew to be a corpse laid motionless inside the bag. Unable to take my eyes from it, I could feel the bile and panic rise in my chest. My mouth filled with saliva and my head spun with a thousand reasons why I should run.

I promptly turned on my heels and vomited into the paper bin by the clinical desk. The contents of my stomach being nothing but water in the last 24 hours. There was nothing but yellow bile in my retch, but I couldn't stop myself. My body ached to purge what I had just seen.

What I knew to be true felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake from. I spat the bitter taste in my mouth out as I went to shove the trolley back where I couldn't look at it.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…” I whispered, never having had much faith in God, I wondered if the prayer would make a difference. "Hallowed be thy name..."

I recalled the prayer from memory. The damned thing etched on my brain from school where I'd been forced to recite it until the words bled on my tongue. Prayer seemed a little futile now, and I was angry with myself for reciting it.

Tears of desolation began to build at the futility of a life that had lead up to this. All those years being taught that the rules of society are absolute. We must pay our taxes and stay in our predetermined lanes. We must adhere to the morals expected of us and dress appropriately for the occasion or the weather. We must respect those above us even if they have little to no respect for us. One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we will be happy if we have a good job and find a partner to share life with and buy a house to live in and drive a good reliable car and have children that meet every expectation once put upon us. Happiness is guaranteed if we can just obtain these things.  

In my fury, I grabbed the fridge handle again and pulled out the trolley, a little more aggressively this time and without hesitation I pulled the zip down on the body bag to reveal the crimson and blue face of a young man who had sustained a fatal head injury. I knew it was wrong, but who was going to know? I looked at his peaceful face and countered that he had not been dead for very long. Only a matter of days. He had a look of complete serenity and had it not been for the color of his skin I might have thought him sleeping.

I didn't know his name. His job. If he was married or if he was gay or straight or neither. I didn't know his favorite color or what he liked to do on the weekend. I didn't know a damn thing about him other than he was still here. Where all others had vanished, he and I... we remained. And in that, I found the most soul crushing realisation that I, too, wished that I was dead.

When I put him away there was a sense of loss that I had not expected. A desire to crawl inside there and just fade away like every one else had.  

"Rest easy, friend." I sighed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

I hadn't left the hospital since I'd picked myself up off that cold, hard floor. I'd wandered the corridors and the wards, meandered down into the morgue fuelled by my own morbid curiosity. The dead were still here. And without knowing what that truly meant, I ran until I was out on the eerily empty street.

And it hit me for the first time. Truly. I was alone.

Day 399 ~ Jake

She gave me a room to sleep in. A small, low beamed space that was at the end of the hallway. Served with only a set of pine drawers and a bunk with only the lower bed made up with floral sheets and a knitted comforter. She'd even taken the liberty of leaving me a few clean towels on the end of the bed. Perhaps an insignificant gesture on her part, but to me I almost broke down in grateful tears.

There is no greater sorrow than the memory of love, and the knowledge that it is gone forever. But I felt some warmth walking into that room, despite the pain of climbing the stairs and not really knowing how to properly thank her without spooking her.

"This is the kids room." She explained, "I would have made up the main guest room, but I don't rate the mattress in there. This ones a single, but much softer. I hope it's alright for you. You can use it for as long as you need to."

She lingered in the doorway. I wanted so much to tell her that I had no intention of leaving. That I wasn't a threat to her nor did I intend on ever doing anything that might cause her harm. But the words meant nothing if she wouldn't receive them.

"Thankyou." I managed, "You've been very...hospitable."

Her chin wobbled a little before she smiled. As if the very action of it was a duty to placate me. She would keep me at arms length. And although I didn't blame her, I was curious about her. I couldn't help it.

I'd been out there, suffering. And she'd been here the whole time, not only surviving but thriving.

"Do you need anything else?" She asked, sounding eager to be gone.

I shook my head. "No, this is more than enough."

"Well then, I'll bid you goodnight." She replied sweetly, raising one last smile before she closed the door.

It felt like the entire cabin was a cave of wonders I'd yet to explore. As I slumped down onto the mattress, I noticed a toy chest at the side of the drawers with the name Charlie carved in an ornate font on the top. There were a few children's books piled on top, old and worn spines where they had been lovingly read over and over with a few of them with covers missing entirely.

I was a stranger here. These were her memories, her ties to those who had disappeared. I was a passenger, hitching a ride on everything she had built here to keep alive. If her resources couldn't stretch to accommodate me, it stood to reason that she would want me gone.

A part of me ached to stay, still. The thought of another night alone filled me with a dread I hadn't yet begun to process. If I couldn't go home, then where did I belong? Not here. Not out there, either.

I was thinking about Josh again as I closed my eyes. His infectious, toothy grin and his unflappable optimism. I wanted so much to hear his voice and have him feed me some wisdom he'd learned as he so often did on his spiritual journey. Sometimes I'd agree wholeheartedly, other times I'd roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the thought but now it all seemed so trivial.

Josh would have been far better suited to being left behind. He'd have found some comfort in the event, no matter how deeply traumatised it had left him. I was the darker entity of our whole, a little more tortured than he was. What a cruel twist of fate to be the one to walk the earth where he had once been. There was no doubt in my mind that Amelia would have felt much safer in Josh's company than whatever I had to offer.

I fell asleep with his voice in my head. For the first time, I managed to drift away without too much of a fight. The closest thing to comfortable I'd been in so long, eventually I slipped into a sleep so deep not even dreams could penetrate.

Her screams did, though. The silence of the night broken by the terrible sounds of a banshee crying out into the darkness. I hit my head on the top bunk as I rose, cursing myself and forgetting for a moment precisely where I was.

Pain ripped through me as I shot out of the bed, tearing down the hallway towards the door at the top of the stairs. With one arm wrapped around my chest, the other lingering on the door handle. I could hear her screaming and crying, her voice unearthly and afraid.

If I had left her to her nightmares, she would have greeted me in the morning knowing that I'd heard her. If I went to give her comfort, would she reject me in fear that I would hurt her? Either way I was damned to my need to respond. I couldn't hear those sounds and not go to her.

"Amelia?" I hedged inside quietly, only to find her thrashing in the bed sheets. "Amelia, wake up..."

She violently tore through me as I reached for her. My healing bones taking a pounding as I wrapped my arms around her body. The gentle hush seemed to break the spell. Although not enough to bring her to full awareness. She breathed heavily against my chest. Her hair drenched in sweat. I swept it back from her face, holding her as tightly as I could.

"I told you, everything's going to be alright." I soothed, letting her calm in my pained embrace. "I'm here, you're not alone anymore."

I was consciously aware that I wasn't dressed. My boxer shorts were enough to conceal the most intimate parts of me. But she was pressed against my bare torso, legs entwined. The darkness of the room shrouding any mounting humiliation in our position.

"It was just a bad dream."

I couldn't be certain if she was still lost to dreams, or awakening as I held her. She stayed so still, like she was locked in a purgatory I couldn't follow her into. All I could do was hold her and pray that she didn't hate me for it.

She was wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and underwear. Her hair all knotted and damp. I could feel the erratic thrum of her heart in each breath she took. My own fluttering uncontrollably at the close proximity of our bodies. She felt like velvet against my skin. All warm and soft, tender to the touch. Eventually, her breathing evened out. And I was gripped with a genuine fear that I'd have to let her go.

"Ever since it happened, I've had nightmares." She said quietly, not daring to move. "Like I've forgotten something and my mind wants so badly for me to remember it but I refuse."

Here in the darkness she could lie in my arms and speak her truth. I would dwell in darkness if it meant that I could keep her. She made no attempt to lift her head, staying firm against me as she let me know my presence was wanted.

"What did you see?" I asked, caressing her with my free hand, sweeping it over her warm cheek.

"Nothing but white." She replied, allowing me to covet her in the only way I knew how. "And that's all I see in my dreams. I'm always back there, blind."

She would speak to me as if I were a stranger in the cold light of day, but here in the middle of the night I knew this was where we truly existed. Every single real thing I had ever known had happened at night. She unravelled in my arms, whether she wanted to or not. Her vulnerability I held like fine china, stroking the side of her face as she continued to calm.

"I saw it too." I replied, trying to keep myself together in the no mans land of how good it felt to hold her and the pain shooting through every single nerve ending.

There was a shaft of moonlight spilling in through the gap in the curtains. A silver shard, like a sword to split the room in half. It illuminated a part of her as she was curled against me. Dark and almost blue, I could see our bodies intertwined. Nothing had ever felt more necessary.

"It never goes away..." She began sobbing, her body vibrating against mine. "It's always there, like it still wants me..."

I searched within myself for a reason to put her aside. To comfort her from further away now that she was settled. But she curled her fingers around my hair, dragging it down against her tear stained cheek.

"Amelia, I..."

What could I say? That I wanted to hold her until dawn, until she was ready for me to slip away? That it had been so long since anyone had touched me that I just wanted to lay there with her and drink her in?

I couldn't say any of it. The moon drifted in and I was beholden to it. To her. To the way she had saved me, not just from the wreck. But from the ruin of a loneliness that was on the fringes of ending me.

Instead I kept my thoughts to myself, giving her only what I thought she could tolerate.

"I'll stay with you, until you tell me to go."

She looked so weary in the light of the moon. Rising from my chest, leaving me cold where she had kept her warmth. Staring at me in the darkness, the whites of her eyes twinkling as she regarded me.

"You would do that. For me?" She asked, the veil between us somewhat torn.

"Of course." I replied, "Whatever you need."

I thought, perhaps, that she would tell me to go. I could see the struggle in her lip as bit it nervously, her chin doing that little wobble that betrayed her desire to smile. I almost cupped it between my thumb and index finger, in a move that felt so natural and yet I had to stop myself.

She propped herself up on the pillow beside me, untangling herself from me. Taking her essence. She remained close, but not enough for me to feel her heartbeat anymore. But I didn't mind. I could see her face in the blue moonlight. Finally it was serene.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." She said, her flushed cheek resting in the palm of her hand.

"Are we talking about here in your bed, or are we talking about something else?" I needed the clarification.

She considered it for a moment. Her gaze lowered, she pulled the blanket up towards her chin and offered me some to cover myself.

"Here. In my bed." She replied softly.

I took the blanket that was offered and leaned back into the pillow behind me, propped up against iron bed rails. I covered my lower body, but kept my top half exposed. Rubbing my hand across my ribcage to ease the strain.

"I don't think I could move right now, even if I wanted to." I tried to jest, realising that I'd sounded entirely the opposite to how I truly felt. "Not that I want to... I'm where I want to be. I promise."

Day 399 ~ Amelia

So many nights my screams had rung out unheard. My nightmares gone uncomforted. I would always wake with the same feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. That something was trying to make me remember it. And I would always be fighting against it. My bed sheets a mess, tangled in them and my hair pressed to my forehead feeling as if I'd been completely outside of my body.

I wanted so badly for him to remain indifferent to me. But how could I deny this man when he had come to me like that? Without a care for himself. Gathering my shivering body into his arms and holding me when all the other nights I'd fought this battle alone.

He felt so good. Relief surged through my veins, rushing out from the space between my chest and my stomach in waves of heat and yearning for another human's touch. It made me want to stay right there in the crook of his arm, where his hair rested against his shoulders. It made me want to tell him how I felt.

But most of all it made me want him to stay so completely that I found myself relenting to him. Taking a piece of his hair and moving it through my fingers, anything to keep his body attached to mine.

But not if he didn't want it, too. Not if this was just some misplaced sense of duty to go running to my aid.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." I told him, dragging myself away from him just enough to gauge his reaction.

He would stay, though. In my bed. In the cabin. I dared to look into his face as the moon shone in through the window. Aspects of it becoming familiar to me in ways that still gripped me in fear.

"I'm where I want to be, I promise." He said, his jaw flexing as he prepared for my response.

.

"Me too." I replied, turning to catch the first flurries of snow as it danced across the crack in the curtain.

Part Three

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@thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

[luciddaydreamsstuff]

Desert Duo Doodles! I am in way too many fandoms to count, including content creators and whatnot. It wasn’t until a doodle of some CCs that I realised how many were MCYTs. But I wanted to draw these two cause I liked how I drew Scar in the other original doodle and have drawn Grian a bunch but constantly changed the design. Now I have one that I like.

Under the cut are the individual drawings plus stickers that I forgot to add to the original but decided fuck it it’s done, plus some explanation about design choices and headcanons. (Does anyone even care about that?) Idk and idc, I’ll ramble anyways.

(you don’t have to read the stuff, I don’t really care, but you can if you want)

First off, this one was annoying since it was supposed to be a hug. I was too lazy to draw the Third/Sercet Life outfits, so they are in their default outfits with crowns representing the fact that they won at least one of the Life games.

Ramble: For Grian’s design, I wanted to keep the bird/avian hybrid but also reference other series or past friend. The Life series has the poppy has memorabilia, the blue and red bracelet represents YHS/TS, and the eye necklace is for Evo. The tail is more so a mix of Watcher magic and Avian DNA, bird feet cause why not. The wing ears are hidden to look similar enough to his regular hair, I like to imagine that wing ears are a rarer trait and to not draw too much attention, he would use Watcher magic to change the colour of the wing ears to match his hair. The freckles are based off of the idea that Angel Dust’s freckles are actually just eyes (which were shown in the show), and I liked that idea. He didn’t have freckles before Evo but after in Hermitcraft he did, they are just eyes that are always closed though he can see out of them. It’ll be clearer in the next piece, but his eyes are based off of some bird eyes so a black sclera with coloured pupils. Grian just hides his eyes under his hair since they are more sensitive than normal. Also I didn’t wanna draw his eyes cause it was one of the things I kept changing before.

I’ll go into Scar later since it’s just a half body but he goes by the same rule of his outfit showing where he’s been. So the poppy and lavender for Third Life and the heart necklace for Secret Life. The earrings are based off of the crystals from Season 7.

Alter Egos! Or at least Hot Guy and Arianna Griande. Not much here, but you can see what I meant with the eyes beforehand.

Also, I can’t be the only one to notice or at least point out that Ari and Cute Guy have like the same or a least a very similar colour palette of pink and white.

Final one, and the two are taking a much needed nap. This could take place anywhere though I like to imagine somewhere in Double Life or somewhere between Season 7 - 10

(also I find it very funny how close these two’s bases were for Season 6 - 10. both were near each other in the futuristic district of season six, then next door neighbours at the start of season seven, I don’t need to mention much besides boatem in season eight, again near the start and most of season nine with Scarland and Grian’s timejump build, then finally again in season ten with Magic Mountain. just funny to me for some reason)

Ramble: Scar is like a hybrid between an elf/fae creature and a cat centaur (that I cannot remember the proper name for). The cat half is based off of Jellie, RIP, and his body is scarred because well I mean the dude is accident-prone it’s bound to happen. I imagine that Scar would wear slightly baggy outfits, like they hang off just a bit to not hug his figure. His hair is more based off of Season 9 with him leaning into the whole elf aesthetic, and I both hate and like the hair but whatever. Idk, I kinda just wanted to make him centaur based cause that visual isn’t something I see often. I imagine that hind legs are weaker than the front so he would switch between a cane and a wheelchair that you would see for animals. I might draw that later idk, but yea

If you actually took the time to read this incoherent mess, idk comment a content creator you like, no matter how niche they may be

#digitalart #artists on tumblr #procreate #characterillustration #art #myartstyle #fan art #fanart #mcyt #mcyt fanart #mcytblr #mcytumblr #desert duo #third life #life series #secret life #grian #grian fanart #grianmc #grian minecraft #scarian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #gtws fanart #hermitcraft #hermitblr #platonic or romantic #why do i procrastinate so much #too many tags

[chaikajpeg]

chise and renfred again (ref under the cut)

used a screenshot from "the last of us" tv show as a reference

when i was 14, the tlou game playthroughs on youtube were my most favourite thing ever... i screamed in joy when the show was announced years later but i haven't yet watched it for some reason

* * *

switching from mechanical pencil to a regular one, using a reference and scaling up the drawing changed EVERYTHING... i didn't sweat over every single little detail and the process was a lot more enjoyable. im not letting go of regular pencils ever again 🤣🤣

....also i had to mirror the drawing because i forgot renfred doesn't have an arm AGAIN....... (last time that happened to joseph)

UPD i just realised that his scars are supposed to be visible after mirroring the drawing jesus fucking christ

#my art #read my rant about chise and renfred in the tags of the previous post #mahoutsukai no yome #mahou tsukai no yome #mahoyome #mtny #mny #the ancient magus bride #the ancient magus' bride #ancient magus bride #chise hatori #mikhail renfred #mahoutsukai no yome fanart #mahoyome fanart #ancient magus bride fanart

[teabutmakeitazure]

Congrats on 700 followers!! I forgot to send in an ask when I first saw the post T^T but it's 100% well deserved <3 (1k when?XD). Your works always feel well thought out and I really love your writing style! Thank you so much for sharing your works with the world!!!! uu

Now, for the request thingy I thought, “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from this filthy, disgusting world.” - with our fav boy Childe? 👀

Hopefully, the prompt is able to bring you an idea :D (and hopefully I requested this correctly DX) Have a nice day Zuri!!!!

Masochism and sadism go hand in hand with Childe. It makes sense. He likes a good fight, relishes it even. The nonchalance he has when discussing a particularly brutal showdown he recently had should have been the most obvious red flag, but you brushed it off as some kind of weird warrior thing.

You were terribly wrong.

Despite the rough and ragged exterior, he's soft and more... 'puppy-like' on the inside. That's what kept you with him. You had a morbid curiosity to dissect him and learn about what makes him this way, why he's so two faced and why he's so terribly intent on domesticity despite his everyday life.

That should've been another red flag, but you don't know better, do you? In attempt to get to know him better, you had accepted his invitation to have dinner at his house. It was an enjoyable evening. You were given a glimpse of his teenage years in the form of the story of how he joined the Fatui and felt some kind of sympathy for him.

It would be wrong to call that feeling love. If anything, it was just you feeling better about yourself. Seeing people like him makes you realise that your life hasn't been all that bad being from a Liyue village and all. Maybe it's the fact that he's still alive and well that draws you to him. Even after going through so much - evident of the scars that peek through his clothing - he still tries and tries.

So now that he's confessed and you've turned him down, you're getting a hint of the sadism that he enjoys.

Taunts are all you're getting. Open windows, an unlocked door, a letter neatly folded letter left on your bed and the lack of his explicit presence but the ever looming shadow that apparently haunts you like a ghost.

You were fired today.

And that letter - that damned letter - is asking if you'd finally like to accept him.

Maybe satiating your curiosity was a bad idea. Maybe you shouldn't have thought of another person as some kind of study material, as some kind of solace for yourself. Maybe this is how the archons punish you for thinking so.

After gathering your bearings, you rush back out the door and stomp to his residence. The guards hadn't asked you anything, simply letting you go as you please, and you take it as another taunt. He's messing with you, that much is evident.

Even his main door was unlocked. It's almost as if he was expecting you.

And expecting you he was because he's leisurely sat on the sofa with his burgundy shirt unbuttoned as he casually twirls a blade in his hand.

"What the hell is this?"

Your tormentor tilts his head, side eying you before a smile stretches on his face.

"Why, good evening to you too." His voice, smooth and confident, annoys you to the core. "I was waiting for you to come visit."

"Childe, I already said no. I'm not interested in a relationship with you."

There it is. That wide eyed smile that clearly shows he's anything but right in the head.

A gaze that's cold as ice greets you when he turns to completely face you, blade now left on the sofa. His lips part to speak and you almost consider walking away.

"I'm the only thing keeping you safe from this filthy, disgusting world. Do you really want to throw that away? Throw away all the comfort that I can and will give you? Would you rather go out there and let those bastards satisfy their dirty eyes with your presence?"

You take a step forward, but he stands up. Barefoot, he slowly makes way towards you, grabbing your face like you're about to run away.

"I'll keep you safe, [Name]. I'll protect you."

Grabbing his wrists, you remove his hands with a scoff. "I already told you. Leave me alone."

He doesn't say anything. He simply smiles when you move to the door, chuckling when you can't open it. You get another glimpse of his sadism when he grabs your shoulders, breathing down your neck. Maybe you shouldn't have pitied him. Maybe you should've feared him instead.

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere tartaglia x reader #AzureTea requests

[renecdote]

stay (so the world may become like itself again)

[Read on AO3]

Eddie kisses his best friend at a wedding.

At a Christmas party.

On New Year’s Eve.

He kisses Buck in the carpark after a team night at a bar on a cool February night, drunk on more than just beer and cocktails, giddy with the taste of salt on Buck’s lips.

“Come home with me,” he whispers into the space between them.

And Buck smiles, hand warm on Eddie’s cheek, and replies, “Where else am I going to go?”

They’re tipsy and giggling, shushing each other as they stumble through the door—then realising they don’t have to because Chris isn’t home. He’s at the Wilsons’ house, will be all night, which is probably why Hen gave Eddie such a knowing look when he followed Buck out of the bar.

“Buck,” he says now, his back against the wall, Buck’s mouth on his neck, the world dark and narrowed to all the places where they touch and the ache in every place they don’t. He doesn’t know what to say except: “Buck, please. Please.”

It’s Eddie’s house, but Buck takes him to bed, guiding him by the hand through the hallway and pushing him back against the sheets.

It’s Eddie’s house, but is it? Isn’t it—can’t it be—their house?

“I should tell you,” Buck says afterwards, tracing patterns on Eddie’s chest in the moonlit darkness. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Eddie kisses his best friend in his bed, both of them naked and probably still too drunk for these kinds of confessions. Or maybe just drunk enough.

“I should tell you,” he answers, “I think I want to marry you.”

Buck’s inhale is a quick, jagged thing, messy and real and trembling under the hand that Eddie has curved around his side.

“Eddie,” he breathes, an exhale and an exultation.

“I think I’ve always wanted to marry you,” Eddie admits, “even if I didn’t always know it.”

He should probably invite Frank to the wedding, he thinks. Maybe that cardiologist who told him he was repressed as well.

“Eddie,” Buck says again, but this time his voice is wet, almost wobbly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Maybe.

Maybe if it was anyone other than Buck.

“I mean it,” Eddie tells him. Promises him. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Another trembling breath, and then certainty: “I know.”

Buck kisses him, slow and thorough, the weight of him pressing Eddie into the mattress in all the right ways. There’s no hurry to it, no hurry to any of it, except for the way that Eddie wants all of Buck, all the time, and he’s tired of pretending that he doesn’t.

“We can’t get engaged like this,” Buck says finally, lips swollen, breathing ragged between them. “The others will never let us live it down.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

“We’re not even dating, Eddie.”

But it’s not a no.

“I already gave you my heart,” Eddie says. Doesn’t have to say when, or which time, or that he’s been giving Buck pieces of his heart every day since they met, even when he didn’t know it.

Buck’s fingers skim the edge of the scar on Eddie’s shoulder and he bends down, presses his lips there, loving and lingering.

“I just gave you a drawing,” he says ruefully.

As if that drawing isn’t still displayed pride of place on Eddie’s fridge. As if he doesn’t think about getting it framed every time he sees it.

As if Buck alone isn’t everything.

“You can make it up to me with a ring,” Eddie says lightly.

Buck laughs, and kisses him again, and it feels like a yes.

It is a yes.

It’s: “I’ll be such a good husband for you, Eds.”

And: “You already are.”

It’s four and a half years of words and heartfelt actions and weaving their lives together, everything built up to this moment, to every moment that will come after.

“I love you,” Eddie says, because he forgot that before, but maybe he should have led with it. He’s been holding his love for Buck so tight for so long that he almost thinks the words won’t come out, but they do, slipping out as easy as breathing. He’s grinning as he says it, almost dizzy with how light he feels, those three little words finally free. Finally heard.

Buck grins too, moonlight in his eyes, his curls, the dimples of his cheeks. So fucking gorgeous it almost hurts to look at him.

“I love you too,” he says, just like Eddie knew he would.

Because he always knew, he thinks, even before he knew that he did: they were always going to end up here. Together. Forever, if the universe will let them.

Eddie kisses his best friend—his fiancé—at three a.m. on a Saturday night in February, a little drunk, a little messy, a lot in love.

And then they begin the rest of their lives.

#Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 Fox #fic #ridiculous fluff brought to you by #my brain as I was trying to nap this afternoon #and also how ridiculously in love these two are

[amostimprobabledream]

Ignite Me (Homelander x Reader) - Part Six

Hi all. Sorry this chapter took me so long, I couldn’t get my original idea to work so I had to go back to the drawing board. Plus I haven’t really watched The Boys since I finished Season 3 so I haven’t been as into it as I was when I first started. Hopefully this doesn’t come as a let-down after waiting a few months.

Also small TW: Someone (not Homelander) attempts to kiss Reader against her will. Just as a heads-up. The bar was a blur of colour and light. Music thudded so loud through the room that you could feel it in your ribcage. You smacked your lips, still sticky with sugar that dusted the rim of your last cocktail, swaying to a song you didn't know the words to. In other words, you were drunk as fuck. "Heyyy!" a similarly-drunk Casey came prancing back up to you and the others you're with, bearing a tray of drinks that wobbled dangerously at her drunken gait. Her cleavage also wobbled in her tight red dress, which was probably why it had taken her such a short time to get served. "Shots!" "Shots, shots, shots!" you cheered, grabbing one with clumsy fingers. Across from you, a hand appeared in your field of vision, instantly irritating you, because it belongs to a man - a man who didn't clean his fingernails. Steve took a shot, and you knew he's trying to make eye contact with you again, so you purposefully looked towards Casey and clinked tiny plastic glasses against hers in a cheers. To be honest, you don't know why Steve was here. Casey only seemed to be vaguely acquainted with him, a friend of hers called Danesha or Danika or something (it’s hard to hear much over the music) brought him along and you wondered why neither the woman who brought him or Steve seemed to notice or care how out of place he was with a group of women he barely knows. His low-effort outfit of a polo-neck t-shirt and baggy jeans looks weird against all your clubbing outfits and he bobbed around on the fringes of the group, head jerking awkwardly to whatever song was on. Foam from the beer he was drinking clung to the scraggly beard he had. The thing was, you knew what Steve wanted. He's been staring at both Casey, you and some other girls for most of the night (you knew you guys looked good, but come on) and he kept trying to get you to dance with him despite the fact he had A) No rhythm and B) a shit taste in songs. He even offered to buy you a drink, his hot, gross breath wafting over your ear, but you pretended not to understand him under the volume of the music. His staring, his presence, his ultimate passivity in how he's tossing out a few cliche gestures and now they haven't worked he's just standing there in a group of dancing, chatting girls like a useless appendage, pissed you off. You don't want him here because tonight was meant to be all about the girls, not tolerating some random guy just because he got dumped and he's sooo sad because it still hurts. You wanna know what hurts? you thought savagely, one of the most lucid thoughts you've had since you left Casey's apartment. Getting fucking shot. Fucking Steve.

Maybe you wouldn't be feeling so hostile towards this wet dishrag of a man if it wasn't for anything else. The whispers and staring that had followed you around for weeks, maybe even over a month by now. How you still felt exhausted so quickly and suddenly these days, the scar from the gunshot wound on your stomach, that fucking interview you'd essentially been tricked into giving...you just had no patience  left, and definitely not when you were trying so hard to forget all of it. Forget about him. You wouldn't speak the name - didn't even want to think it - so you swallowed down the shot in your hand without stopping to ask what it was first. You learn the minute it hit you tongue, the sharp, acrid bitterness filling your mouth. You gagged. Fucking tequila! You scrambled to grab a lime, realising belatedly you forgot to do salt, and sucked on it frantically, the tart sourness of the fruit a cleansing balm of the shot. Casey cackled as everyone else chokes - she actually likes tequila and drinks it for fun. You'd forgotten that about her. She grabbed your hand. "Let's dance!" she bellowed at you, her lipgloss all smudged, and dragged you into a sea of bodies twisting beneath candy-coloured lights. Eager to get away from Steve, you followed her lead, even though you're not exactly some amazing dancer yourself, when you're this fucked up it hardly matters. Your eyes lazily scanned the faces around you, looking to see if you can find any guys you thought were cute. It's been a while since you've had sex and even if picking up randoms from a bar wasn't usually your style, maybe that's exactly what you needed right now. But try as you might, you can't see anybody that makes you feel anything. Your heart beats on steadily, unmoved by the people on display, and you sighed, wondering if you're getting too old for this or if you're being picky or something. You can't even remember the last time somebody genuinely made your heart skip a beat- Yes you can. “I love this song!!” Casey screamed at you over the music, her hair falling out of the updo she’d put it in earlier but in a way that looked artfully messy, and your face lights up when you recognise the tune, an old favourite from your college days. “Me too!” you yelled back. Funny how some booze robbed you of your inability to make any sort of meaningful observations, but that wasn’t really what’s required of you right now. It doesn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter as you twisted and turned beneath the strobe lights, a machine sending out plumes of dry ice, hiding the dancefloor that’s soaked in people’s spilled drinks by now. You watched as the people around you flash red, yellow, green, blue…something so normal made mesmerising with just a few tricks of the light (and copious amounts of liquid courage, it had to be said). The other girls pushed their way through the crowd to join you, squealing, the lights twinkling on their jewellery or the glitter on their eyelids. And right on Danesha’s heels was fucking Steve. It's like tasting something slightly off in an otherwise good meal, contaminating every other bite. He’s looking at you again, that vaguely dead eyed expression that sent your teeth on edge, so you turned your back to him. He seemed impervious to reading body language or your annoyed expressions, but not having to look at him was at least something. “Oh my god, Lucy, what are you doing?!” Danesha suddenly shrieked. You all turned to look at Lucy, one of Casey’s friends, who had somehow crossed the dancefloor without any of you noticing and had climbed on one of the tables, dancing around on it like a thing possessed. You’re kind of impressed she somehow hadn’t knocked over all of the glasses and bottles covering the surface. She had her arms thrown above her head, bracelets sliding down her skinny wrists, blonde hair twisting back and forth along with her movements. A security guard rushed over, nearly colliding with you, yelling at her to get down or he’d throw her out, and as the oblivious crowd around you start jumping up and down to an R’n’B song that just started, you realised something- You’re going to puke. You bolted for it, feeling the hot, sickly feeling rising in your throat, the roof of your mouth tingling. You raced towards the ladies, but skidded to a halt – the queue was so long you doubted you’d make it even if they let you pass to get to the sinks, so you did the only over thing you could think of and ran outside where the smokers went. The tequila tasted even worse on the way back up as you bent over a trashcan outside and vomited it back up, throat burning with it and your eyes stinging. You blinked hard several times because you didn’t want it to fuck up your eyeliner. You made a mental note that in future, when Casey gives you a mysterious shot, at least ask what it is first. You still had your drink from before in your hand and took a cautious swig from it to wash the horrible taste out of your mouth, spitting it out into the trashcan too. It’s not water but it’s an improvement, at least. “Hey.” You stiffened. You didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. Your fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as you turned your head to see Steve standing a few feet behind you, hands in his pockets. “What?” you said, flatly, because you weren’t interested in small talk. He looked slightly surprised at your response, blinking and swaying a little. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay or if you wanted him to get Casey or someone, of course. He’s only interested in what he wants. “So like…you’re so hot.” Steve said and if you weren’t already so done with him, you might have laughed at what a pathetic attempt at a pickup line that was. “And I was thinking like…we should-“ “No.” you interrupted. Steve stared at you. “What?” “There is no ‘we’. Whatever you were about to ask, I’m not interested.” You said, and it’s a relief to get it out in the open. Whatever he wanted, he wasn’t getting it from you. “I’m going back inside now.” “Hey, you don’t even know what I was gonna say!” Steve protested in a whiny voice, blocking the doorway. “Don’t be like that.” “I don’t even know what you’re doing here.” You blurted out, anger rising in you like someone turned up a thermostat inside you. “It was meant to just be us girls and here you are, expecting us all to feel bad for you because you got dumped or something and ruining it for all of us. It’s so creepy how you’re hovering around acting like if you buy us drinks or whatever it means you’ll get something out of it later. That’s not how it works. Now get out of my fucking way.” God, it felt good to say that, seeing that stunned look on his face like he couldn’t believe his ears. You’re so sick of holding back everything you want to say, every moment of every day, of feeling like you’re constantly walking over a landmine and if you don’t consider everything you do carefully, it’ll all be blown to smithereens. You’ve been swallowing venom for so long it’s great to spit it out. “You’re a bitch!” Steve spluttered in astonishment, clearly aiming to sound scornful but he sounded so affronted that it’s impossible to take him seriously – if he had pearls to clutch, he would. “You got that right.” You said, feeling a vindictive smirk on your face. “Now move.” You’ve wasted quite enough time on this douchebag as it was, and you went to push past him when he suddenly grabbed at your arm. “Wait, just calm down.” Steve said, slurring slightly. “Get the hell off me.” You hissed at him. You wrenched your arm free, stumbling backwards and when you right yourself, Steve’s face was suddenly looming over you like a satellite dish, his lips puckered grotesquely. Ugh! “I said get away!” You swung your hand to hit him, outrage flooding your brain and overriding any shred of common sense, but the hand you instinctively flung up was still clutching the bottle from earlier and there’s a loud, dull thunk as it collided with the side of Steve’s face. The bottle doesn’t break or shatter dramatically, but either way you get your desired outcome – Steve getting the fuck away from you, clutching his face and moaning loudly, a strange, bovine noise that made you think of a cow getting stuck. “My eye! My eye! You bitch, you fucking cunt!” he shouted, staggering on the spot, a spot just below his eyebrow already starting to swell. You know you should be feeling something right now – shocked or guilty or something, but there’s nothing there. Just a cold sense of satisfaction in having your kneejerk dislike of Steve vindicated. “You’re fucking pathetic.” You said, like a queen issuing a royal decree, before tossing your makeshift weapon aside and walking back into the bar. Inside, you only have to walk a few steps before a bouncer passed you, carrying a semi-conscious Lucy over one gigantic shoulder, Danesha and the other girls following him like a row of duckling and loudly talking, though you can’t tell if they’re upset about being kicked out or just trying to rouse Lucy. Casey came rushing up to you. “There you are! Come on, we should go – Lucy’s absolutely out of it, so we’re going to take her back to Christa’s place to sober her up. Do you wanna crash there too? She doesn’t mind.” You considered it as you followed Casey out, ducking and weaving past the people still dancing the night away, but after puking up your last drink and braining Steve in the face, you decided that you know when to fold. “No, I’ll get a taxi back to mine. I’m tired and I don’t want to sleep on the floor.” You said. You debated telling her about Steve, but knowing Casey she’d probably go looking for him and try to fight him and as much as you love her for that, you’d say you’ve taken care if things. Anyway, you don’t want to ruin her night any further. Maybe you’ll tell her about it later when you’ve both sobered up. Outside the club, there are plenty of taxis waiting and after the bouncer deposits Lucy in one of them (which was pretty nice of him – you’ve known bouncers who would probably leave someone that drunk lying on the floor so long as they weren’t in the bar), Casey turned to you and gave you a hug. “Sure you don’t want to come with us?” “I’m sure.” You replied – you wanted to go home and sleep. “Okay. Talk tomorrow, text me when you get home!” she ordered you. “Don’t forget!” “You’re the one who never remembers to text.” You snorted as you climbed into the back of the taxi. “See you later.” The taxi pulls away from the curb and after giving your address, you slump back against the seat, your eyes sliding shut despite yourself. He’ll wake you up when you get to your destination, for sure. Outside the taxi, the city parties on. ~ Elsewhere… "Stupid bitch..." Steve, forgotten by the group of people he'd arrived at the bar with, even Danisha, who'd brought him, stumbles home through the brightly lit night of the city. The night is beginning to wind down now, most of the partiers tiring of their alcohol-induced fun and retreating home or joining a stranger to spend the rest of the night with. Steve doesn't want to return home, but to say his night has been ruined was an understatement - his throbbing face was testament enough to that. Just who the fuck did you think you were, anyway? He’s a nice guy and he's just been dumped! Was it so much to ask he get to hang out with a group of hotties for a night? But you’d looked at him like he was shit on your boots, like you were so fucking special. And Danika had made it seem he'd for sure get laid, she insisted he was a great guy and his ex was crazy for breaking up with him, yet all he got was fucking smashed in the face! This petulant internal monologue continues on and on. He may have even been inclined to continue going to bars in hopes of guilting some woman into letting him go home with her, throwing himself on her sense of pity as if impaling himself on a sword. But he doesn't have the cash, and besides which, his face is sore and throbbing, a bruise already forming beneath his eyebrow. By the morning it will be there, the only souvenir of tonight and not one he was hoping to walk away with. He turns into the mouth of an alleyway that’s a handy shortcut home - Steve grimaces as a waft of garbage reached his nose, no doubt collection day’s tomorrow morning, so it's not a pleasant trip, but it takes him further away from the noise and bright lights that seem to be mocking him, everybody else having fun while all he got was attacked. Can he sue for assault or whatever it was? GBA or something? When Steve rounds the next corner, where some lurid graffiti art that always catches his eye and made him stare at it as he passed, he's unprepared to be intercepted. He stops, squinting. A figure stands in the middle of the alley. Thanks to the bright lighting of a billboard across the street, light floods the street and the man's features are in shadow. Steve squints, confused - the posture wasn't one of any mugger he's ever seen before. He can already tell this guy’s strong, he’s taller and bulkier than Steve is, even in silhouette. The man stands there, legs apart, shoulders thrown back and hands behind his back. But Steve spots something - an American flag, dangling behind the man, lit up by the fluorescent glow. “…No way…” Steve mutters under his breath, drunk as he is – even someone blackout drunk would recognise the person standing in front of him. But why’s he here? Homelander says nothing to explain himself, why Vought’s golden boy would be standing in a filthy alleyway like he’s staring down enemy gunfire. He steps closer silently, the flag swaying hypnotically behind him. Steve finds himself staggering backwards until his jacket brushes brick wall, which is crazy. He’s an innocent citizen, why is he instinctively drawing away from Homelander? Unless…maybe it’s not him at all? Maybe it’s just some guy on a bachelor party in a Homelander outfit or something? His uniform is a popular choice, they’re easy to get into and instantly recognisable, no need to have multiple conversations explaining your outfit at a costume party with such an iconic Supe’s wardrobe readily available. It’s a useful disguise in case you wanna rob somebody, too. Convinced of his theory, Steve yells: “Hey, man! What do you want?!” And then his stomach turns to ice, as in the gloom of the alleyway, two pinpricks of red flare in the darkness, like the eyes of a crocodile. It's him. A hand shoots out, grasping Steve by the throat and lifting him off the ground as easily as most people might pick up a bag of washing. Steve chokes, flounders, Homelander’s thumb digging into the vulnerable flesh beneath his jaw. His movements feel so slow and sluggish and Homelander tilts his head in consideration, his jaw clenched. Steve splutters for air, the grip on his throat like a vice. His fingers claw pointlessly at Homelander’s glove, legs weakly kicking. He tries to speak but all that comes out is an incoherent gurgle. “Please…” Homelander’s lips draw back in a snarl. In that moment he looks less a man and more like a beast. Steve’s panic-stricken eyes meet glowing scarlet ones, tears leaking from them instinctively. Homelander finally speaks; “She’s right. You are fucking pathetic.” And the fist clenches and the bones in Steve’s neck pop like twigs, the flesh giving way beneath his superhuman grip like it’s nothing more than paper. Steve's body jerks and a final, rattling gurgle leaves his mouth. Then he falls still, head slumping. Homelander drops the body, where it collapses before the graffiti in a crumpled heap, piss staining the front of his ill-fitting jeans, glassy eyes staring at nothing. Homelander wipes his hand on the thigh of his suit, like he just touched something filthy. He sniffs once, rolls his shoulders. A blink later, a casual lift into the sky, and he’s gone.

#Homelander x Reader #The Boys (2019) #The Boys x Reader #Fanfiction #Writings #Homelander x You

[walls-actual-ly]

rereading parts of "take your pretty smile, tell them everything's fine." (the jhinhwei scene) and god damn it i m baffled at my own writing??

aka if nobody writes long ass analysis of my fanfic i ll do it myself xD (tw for very much sexual grooming, underage relationship, pseudoincest, i mean its Jhin lol)

i forgot the details and now i m rereading it and i lose my sanity one bit at a time. its so obvious how unhealthy their relationship is, i think its also one of the chapters that really brings out just how young hwei is and in a lot of ways their conversation feels like a talk between a parent and a child, both struggling to let go of each other.

and this is a turning point to an extent, if jhin was a better man he would ve rejected hwei, encouraged the boy to pursue kayn and start developing some sense of independence. but he doesn't do it, instead, he dives right in and makes his dependency worse. Instead of reassuring Hwei that he is alright, that Jhin loves him but that he doesn't care about the kind of sex he is having with his boyfriend Jhin makes clear that he cares, indulges Hwei's desire for him to do so, draws an obvious parallel between the bite kayn left and the scar he cut into him a few months ago.

And what makes this whole thing "worse" imo in that in a scene that is very much smut we also get their first actual conversation about what they are,

Hwei: “You are more of a father, or brother, or friend than I ever had.” Jhin: “You are the only son I will ever have.”

and then in the middle of making out, hwei calls jhin "dad" for the first time, and i think its then that Jhin actually realises the power he holds over this child of his.

like, jhin never planned to be a father for hwei, he never planned to raise a child, he was totally unprepared for the traumatised special needs kid he took in. he had no idea what was going on, just thought that this immensely talented baby artist will never have a chance to bloom if he doesn't get him out of the soul-crushing environment. so he does, their relationship grows, he realises that he begins to love this child, that he wants to give him the world, wants him to be happy.

but now, in the middle of making out with Hwei, he suddenly realises that this isn't right, that if he loves Hwei then he needs to at least give him the space to think this through, show him that he can love him without needing his body for it.

“Let me show you how much I adore you.”  Jhin moved up, took his hands and gently placed them to his side, smiling almost shyly. “Will you let me?”

and when Hwei agrees, fully expecting to just have emotional sex, Jhin stops. and i m so not okay with this, i didn't even expect this to happen, i thought it would just be a chapter focused on them having hot sex.

like jhin totally crossed the line, but he allows Hwei to step back and reassures his baby boy that he ll love him no matter what he chooses :(((

#jhinhwei #hwei lol #hwei the visionary #lukai hwei #hwei #hwei x jhin #khada jhin #jhin lol #jhin on his way to write a parenting book (coauthor is silco) about “how to raise the traumatised child i found on the streets” #like ok just imagine the conversations between jhin and silco about their disaster kids #jinx teaches hwei how to swear and Jhin is not amused #“i never want to hear that word outside the borders of zaun do you understand me?” #jinx also steals kitchen knifes for hwei to learn how to throw them #bc she thinks he is too weak for melee fighting but has to be able to defend himself #and hwei is very much just drawing caricatures of the kids that annoy him

[rin-rin-winter]

I realised that I forgot to post it here:'

Fantasy? Let's dive in!

As a little baby, she was found on the doorstep of a shelter and raised there. The children were well fed, the conditions were good, and the orphanage was run by a woman named Alice and her husband. The children loved them very much because they treated them with warmth. Some time later, when she was 8, during the adoption, when the teacher was taking away the next boy (note: for some reason they always adopted the chubby ones), she noticed that Miss Alice took him to the basement and out of interest the girl followed them.There she found meat machines, body parts ready for packaging, meat grinders, meat grinders with almost finished frankfurters, sausages, etc. The manager’s husband notices her and catches her, after trying to cut her throat, but she twitches and the knife passes through her cheek instead of her neck, leaving a wound , not very deep, but deep enough for a scar from the corner of the lips to the ear. As a result, she escapes, at the same time warning the others and informing them of what happened, everyone scatters in different directions, some of the older ones took the younger ones with them (those who could not survive alone), lives on the streets of the city, steals food, learned to pick locks on doors and quickly stealing from passers-by is considered one of the best thieves. Known as Sky, a quirky boy who loves to tease the pursuers from whom he stole something, and loves gay jokes and the reactions of others to his behavior. Over the course of some time, she finds an abandoned hut in the forest and settles in it, beginning to collect and study herbs. In the city they began to call her a witch and a gypsy, believing that with her arrival, trouble always followed her.They also used to scare children with her, trying to keep them away from the forest. The only one who treated her more or less well was one old healer, whom she began to help, and in return he gave her a book with his notes and medicines, seeing her desire to help people.

As a thief can oftenly make a look that she's def and communicate with people who travel with her with drawings on paper until she'll trust them fully.

Height:155/5'0

Weight:80kg

She still believes that everyone can be good. Phrases that describe this: “Everyone can become a good person if they just try”, “Even in the darkest heart there is a small spark of light. And it takes a lot of effort to achieve it and make a person shine.”She is torn between her child self and her "mother bear" mode. It’s as if three people live in her: The child is naive, rejoicing at every slightest miracle, the mother is worried about everyone and everything and can often automatically begin to act motherly even towards those older than her and become strict when necessary, the grandmother is a calm, peaceful soul, ready giving advice at the right time and thinking deeply about things. She may be scared, but at the most critical moment she will try to use everything she has, and she will easily sacrifice herself to save someone, even if she does not know him. Puts the lives of others above her own.She is kind, shy, but sometimes she can go crazy, she loves jokes and pranks, she is very versatile, her character is chaotic, based on these three categories that I listed above, you never know exactly how she will react at one time or another. She is very sensitive and can either lose her temper or start crying. (Loves musical breaks a lot)

#fantasy #fantasy art #dnd #dnd character #dnd art #fantasy character #vox machina #dnd inspiration #dnd inspo #fantasy oc #fantasy original character #fantasy story #art on tumblr #ilustration

[ariastuffff]

Ocean Eyes - Satoru Gojo-

Chapter 1

——.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .——

We should stick together... your my best friends I'll love you forever...

——.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .——

A normal person would wake up to an alarm or the sun but not me, I wake up to a cocky smile which could belong to none other than Satoru Gojo.

"Five more minutes" I say sluggishly while rolling over to my left trying to avoid the giant in my room. "You said that five minutes ago..." Satoru reply's in an impatient tone. "Shut up" I reply back annoyed pulling the covers over my head.

It was peaceful for a few seconds and just as I stopped gripping to my sheets so tight I feel them ripped off me. "GOOD MORNING Y/N" I hear a group of voices scream at me. I sit up angrily and gaze at their faces.

On the right we have Suguru with a smug smirk on his face, which I really wanted to slap off, beside him is Aiko looking at Ieiri who was beside her giggling at their actions and lastly on the left we have the mastermind behind it all Satoru, who was tearing up with laughter.

I reach behind me grabbing a pillow and then proceed to throwing it at Satoru with all my might, which seemed to catch him off guard, he stumbles back a bit and laughs.

"Oh c'mon it wasn't that bad" Satoru says pouting playfully. "YES IT WAS!" I reply hastily with slight anger. "I WAS HAVING AN AMAZING DREAM SATORU" I scream at him while getting off the bed and chasing him around my room.

I glance at Suguru, Aiko and Ieiri and notice them laughing at the scene in front of them, i mean who can blame them. The elected "strongest jujutsu sorcerer" was running away from me.

I stop running after two minutes and run to the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. My skin was slightly dry and there was no life to it, my lips were chapped. I grab a headband and pull my hair back and out of my face.

Being the lazy person I am I showered in the night so that I could've slept in a little more but obviously that wasn't the case. I roll my eyes and reach for my toothbrush and toothpaste. I apply a glob of it onto my toothbrush before realising I'm running out. I make a mental note to buy more toothpaste and start brushing my teeth. Once I'm done I wash my face and floss.

I walk out of the bathroom when I'm finished doing anything else necessary. I walk over to my vanity and look at my hair and boy was it a mess... I recently tried to dye my hair red but it turned out more of a maroon red colour.

I take my hair out of the plait I had it in and brush through it, I've never really done my hair or put too much thought into it, I put my hair up in a ponytail while pulling out some pieces at the front to frame my face.

After that I look though my vanity draws for my concealer, mascara and eyeliner. Once I found everything I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in" I say gently as my mood has calmed down. Aiko walks in with a smile and I smile back at her. "Just wanted to watch you do your makeup" she says while sitting down on the messy bed behind me. "There's not much to see" I say laughing while holding up my small collection which earned a laugh back.

I go back to doing my makeup and put conceal under my eyes to cover my dark circles along with a pimple that was very present on my forehead along with a small scar next to the right side of my lip.

As I start to blend with my fingers I can't help but think what Aiko used because her skin was always glowing and clear. I drift off into thought and realise I'm blending nothing. After that I use my eyelash curler and curl my lashes before putting on my mascara.

"Oh crap I forgot this" I say holding up my eyeliner. "It's okay I don't think you need it today" Aiko says reassuringly. Which made me smile at her sincerity.  I Look in my draws again for a lip stain, I pick out the first one I see and put it on.

Once I was satisfied with what I looked like I got up and grabbed my uniform and a change of underwear before walking into the bathroom and getting changed.

I walk out and smile at Aiko. "Let's go!" I say happily while walking out of my room looking at everyone. "Look who's alive" Satoru says jokingly as he stuffs a muffin into his mouth. "Ha ha." I snap back sarcastically while walking over to him and grabbing a muffin too.

I Look over at the clock and notice the time 7:12am. I was reassured that we weren't running late but early for once allowing me to enjoy my muffin.

"I'm hungry" Suguru says from the sofa. "What d'ya want to eat" Satoru manages to asks before me. "Yo y/n you got eggs?" He asks me in a serious tone. I giggle at his sudden seriousness and reply with "yeah, you want an omelette?" "Yeah! You know me so well" he replies happily as he shifts his attention back onto the tv.

I walk over to the fridge and take out a few eggs and place them onto the counter. "How come you didn't ask me if I wanted an omelette" Satoru walks up to me with a fake frown.

"Because you were already helping yourself to my muffins" I say in response while taking out a pan from the bottom cupboard. I Look back up Satoru after placing the pan on the stove

"Do you want an omelette too?" I ask looking at the place where his eyes should be, earning a nod in response. "Can you go ask Ieiri and Aiko if they want omelettes too?" I ask while cracking two eggs into a bowl.

"Mhm! Yes chef!" He says while saluting before walking away laughing at himself. I roll my eyes at his behaviour and finish making Sugurus omelette. I put the finished dish onto a place as place a knife and fork next to it and take it inside giving it to Suguru.

"Here ya go!" I say happily "eat it or else" I add on in a serious nose startling Suguru.

I look up at Aiko and Ieiri "want one?" I ask both of them, they both shake their head side to side in unison. I Look back at Satoru and notice that he walked into the kitchen.

I follow shortly behind him and walk to the fridge to take out two more eggs. I feel Satorus gaze on me and I look at him. "What?" I say softly earning a smile in reply. I roll my eyes in annoyance before making his omelette too.

After finishing I turn around thinking that Satoru had gone inside but I bump into him by accident but managed to save the omelette. "Here" I hand the omelette to him and turn around to grab him a knife and fork.

Just as I turn around to give him the utensils he just hands me back an empty plate... "what happened to the omelette?" I say in question startled because I only turned away for a second.

"I ate it" he reply's in a 'obviously' tone. "Are you even human?" I ask him while taking the plate and putting it in the sink. "Probably not" he reply's while helping himself to a can of Pepsi from my fridge and proceeding to walk out, as if nothing happened.

I copy Satoru's action and grab myself a can while also grabbing three more, four in total, I walk into the living room and hand them out to everyone. I glance at the time again and now it's 7:46am. I Take Suguru's empty plate back into the kitchen and put it into the sink.

After that I walk into my room and grab a pair of socks and my shoes. I walk back into the living room and put them on finally paying attention to what was on tv. I grab my keys and call everyone. "Guys time to go" I say happily while everyone got up towards the door I had just opened.

They all walk through and I follow them while closing the door behind me and locking it. I run over to the group to keep up and we all start walking towards school.

  . . . .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. . . .

Me, Aiko and Ieiri walk Into school after Suguru and Satoru who were both out of breath as they raced each other to school half way through. Satoru leaned agains a wall while Suguru crouched in pain.

"I so won" Satoru said out of breath but with confidence. "I was here before you" Suguru snaps back at him. "LIAR! I BEAT YOU" Satoru screeches like a kid while pointing at him. "NO YOU DIDNT" Suguru replies while getting up.

I walk past them ignoring the bickering in the distance as Aiko and Ieiri try to calm them both down. I let out a laugh as they were fighting like two year olds, I cover my mouth while I laugh and sit down on the bench.

I notice Satorus bag which was still out next to the bench and pick it up noticing the same ring on a key ring. I smile while looking at my own ring which was placed around my neck attached to a necklace that my mom had owned.

"SATORU YOUR BAGS HERE!" I yell at him catching his attention resulting in him running towards me. "Thanks" me says while smirking and winking at me. Which earned a slap to his arm. He laughs and proceeds to take some gum out of his bag for the front pocket before running back over to the other 3. I follow behind him because I was getting bored.

I motion my hand out to Satoru and he places a piece of gum onto it which I happily take. While replying in a quick thank you.

We stand around for a few more minutes before sensei yaga walks in with a stern look. We all straighten up and look at him in confusion. Satoru goes to open his mouth but was cut off by sensei. "Not now Satoru." He says sternly while holding up a finger in satorus direction.

"Last night I told you there was homework. Did any of you complete it?" He says in a unidentifiable tone. We all look at each other in question before Aiko speaks up.

"Wasn't it to spar with each other sensei? If so we already did that sensei" she replies truthfully as we were sparing yesterday. Aiko's answer earned a nod of approval from sensei.

"I'm glad someone remembers, now did we learn anything from sparring with each other?" He proposes as we all look at each other.

"I learnt that y/n has faster reflexes than me" Aiko responds "I learnt that satoru has a blind spot and it is..." Suguru starts saying but it cut off by Satoru covering his mouth. "I learnt that Suguru has better battle knowledge than me" I say confidently. "I learnt that my ability has a high limit" Ieiri responds shortly after me.

Our answers earn a nod of approval from sensei as we all let out a breath of relief. We all follow sensei as he starts to walk further inside.

"I have a special mission for you four..." sensei says softly. We all look at each other confused as sensei resumes. "You four are going on an..." he pauses making out mouths go dry with fear "On an undercover mission" he says playfully as we all look at each other with relief

This was going to be fun

————— .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .—————

HEYYY OK SO ILL BE UPDATING EVERY FRIDAY (British time) BUT YEAH HOW DO YOU GUYS LIKE IT SO FAR?!?

————— .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .—————

#gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk anime #gojo saturo #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #gojo sensei

[lavenderlyncis]

My year in fic!

I saw @euphorial-docx do this and I wanted to try as well!

For this, you just post the fic and one line from it

May

the bridges we burned (and the home we built)

James spoke up in a soft voice, confirming his presence. "And what emotion does it provoke?"

"Extreme loneliness, sadness. Look at the dead-end path, the hopelessness of the threatening sky, the crows, the contrasting colours. All of it foreshadows the end of a life. An inner conflict that has been apparent in all of his works draws its conclusion. In many ways, this is the climax. The tempestuous peak of mental anguish and suffering."

Regulus took a deep breath and continued. "But it's not just depressing. There is a clear message of healing, of returning to nature. He makes it seem like there is peace to be found at the end of the road."

June

The Highest Form of Betrayal

He took a deep breath and spoke, barely audible through the wood, "I'm not going to forgive you and I'm not going to date you again."

"I understand," James said weakly.

Regulus, with every piece of courage and goodwill he had, added, "But we can peacefully co-exist." Every single interaction with James had been leading up to this. The moment of a grace Regulus could only seldom muster. "Don't get me wrong, I probably won't ever be able to open up to you again, but we can talk to each other." He closed his eyes and choked out the last words. "I miss you."

Starcrossed

Their lives had been branded by misfortune for as long as she could remember. When she was younger, she thought that the stars themselves had cursed them, damned them to misery by forcing them to be born in the wrong body.

But now, far away from their families, from their past, from their old names, Pandora knew that nothing could reach them.

Perhaps, the stars hadn't cursed them at all.

They had only given them a companion to guide them on their path.

August

Can't trust his kind

James took a second to breathe, searching his opponent's features for any explanation for why he was the target of such a careful assassination attempt. From up close, James realised that the scar on Leon's cheek was longer than he originally thought. Much longer. It extended all the way down to his neck.

He knew that scar. 

He had made that scar.

"Regulus Arcturus Black," he whispered in shock.

"The one and only."

September

Midnights

Even in here, the house that was home to most of Regulus' happy memories, he couldn't help but feel the pressing weight of years and years of inner turmoil. It was something he was no stranger to, not even in the time when his room was clean and the house filled with familiar faces.

Perhaps remembering would do him well. It was so easy to forget the past, to move forward without daring to take a look back, afraid of what one might find in the jumble of time.

Regulus leaned over his nightstand and blew out the candle, sinking back into the pillows, he let the shadows wash over him. 

Looking into the dark, his mind wandered to brighter days.

November

Only The Good Die Young

Mornings were spent in the halls of the Academy, sitting by a window with a cup of black tea and overlooking Danzig, watching the townsfolk go to work. Morning after morning, the same. Each day shorter than the last, until the pages of the calendar flew swiftly in succession, one after the other - Regulus could barely keep up.

Time went so fast that it stood still. Decades bled into each other, their passing meaningless.

Bruises faded into thin scars as memories blurred together and soon Regulus wondered if any of it had ever happened at all. Perhaps his mind had played tricks on him, it would explain the reason why he could hardly recall the details. There were days when he even forgot Sybill's name. He wrote it down, then, not willing to forget someone who impacted him in incomprehensible ways.

#omg this is way longer than i thought #it was so hard to pick out all the lines #lyn is writing #my year in fic

[sleepysandy]

fmab ep 6 rewatch

whos the narrator at the start

am i just dumb and cant recognise who it is

road of hope??

thats amazing

the titles just never miss

i dont remember ed sound so young

like i know hes young but he actually sounds young compared to everyone around them

ooh ed doesnt know shit!!

love that

also interesting how they revealed the secrets of the stone early

but that was only scratching the surface

i totally thought the dad would be dead

ed so short lmao

i love it everytime winry shows up

didnt realise there was an end credits scene

ep 7

will the alchemy intro be there for the whole first season

who were they checking in the east

was it scar

do they just check on all the alchemists

what is mustang doing in central anyways

it was mentioned in the manga but i forgot

same miss sheska

i too want a rich sponsor

what was he supposed to ask

i totally forgot

so this country got death penalty

should i watch the 2003

since the barry ep was apparently a highlight of the og show

ep 8

this is a good ep for al

wheres barrys mark

ok sweeney todd

al u have pictures

inspiration from a minor antagonist

love that

if evil why hot!!!

ooh envy was willing to show their face since they can shapeshift anyway

ep 9

wait no alchemy intro

winry acting dumb u forgot a screw

ponytail >> braid

i also did not like milk and also short

automail so cool

wonder how different it is from real prosthetics

vry funny how even in the japanese dub the fullmetal achemist commercial is in english

not everyone hearing this private convo

do the lieutenants ever figure out that al had no body

ep 10

no alchemy intro again

so they stopped at 9

why do they wear a white coat

the eye contact

not the separate destinations

eds drawings lmao

oh the flap in front of their coat is just their coat folded over

i thought it was a fanny pack

lmao i establish you as trustworthy

forbid u lmao

i do wonder abt his intelligence

well he does have most high officers

winry taller than ed

ugh not this dude

bradley wont do shit!!

noooo

i hate this!!

this is why its better to just be dumb

NAURRR

I CANT WATCH THIS

observational skills slay

NAURRR

this is why cellphones are a thing

bradley u got no right

stfu elicia

that was a slay mustang

lmao they know the ed and al wont listen to even the fuhrer

the shot of the grave was vry cool

#fma #fmab

[spacefjords]

au where molly’s around (still/again) and he makes out w fjord on a balcony in nicodranas. idk what else is up in this au, but smoochin is important

#critical role #fjord x molly #fjordmauk #fjolly #fjord #mollymauk tealeaf #cr2 #art #fan art #scars for ts #I MISS THEM SO MUCH!!!!!! #(but u know what i dont miss? drawing mollys fucking horns) #(but i will keep doing it he's worth it) #........ i only just realised i forgot molly's snake tattoo on his arm #despite thinking many a time while drawing this that i needed to remember all the molly details #OH WELL too late now just Pretend

[zapgraptrash]

i decided mermaid grappler needs like.... his own name even though he IS still a version of grappler. still has the nickname grappler but his “real” name is now vinzon.

#and i just realised i forgot to draw his top scars on that last picture from the other day

[artswaps]

I’m late to the party but HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the Very Best Boy <333 

#voltron #vld keith #keith voltron #keith kogane #post #my art #keith #space squad #i lost steam after i finished allura's so please excuse the scribbliness of some of these lmao #these were fun to draw tho!!!!! #aaah hbd keith... so much love for this character and all of them they're so good and will be important to me forever.... #oh noo i just realised i forgot his scar in all of them except shiro's ahdsjfgk #OH NO I FORGOT SHIRO'S SCAR AHAHAHA #oops all well

[tsumikoz]

it’s a colourful display, we’re screaming again

#AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN WE’RE SCREAMING AGAIN #his hair’s so hard 2 draw save me #also i accidentally made his body too skinny so :| #anywaysssss #ghost and pals #kennith simmons #broadcast illusion #colorbars #thats all i can b bothered to add #my art #I JUST REALISED I FORGOT 2 ADD THE SCARS OOPSIE #oh ya also just in case #eye strain

[class1akids]

I initially thought that Izuku thinking "everyone was always so far ahead of me" was him acknowledging and admiring his peers' continuous growth both in physical and emotional strength and also his feelings of inferiority taking over a bit - but now it feels like an acknowledgement of how they must have felt when he said "you can't keep up" when he was told the same thing all his life, leading to him thinking he was cruel in saying that.

I feel silly for realising this just now.

I read it as it being about Deku constantly feeling like he was playing catch up to their quirk skills and power and he was so focused on that aspect that he kind of forgot about the other part - the heroic spirit.

The Class A intervention was built up very well.

In Stage 1, we saw people like Jirou, Shoji, Tokoyami, Kaminari, etc. all trying to speak their appreciation for Izuku, not for his heroic feats, but for simply the caring human being he was, their friend and show their concern for his well-being. And the important thing they achieve is Deku dropping his mask. After that, he has to face his classmates with nowhere to hide.

Stage 2 is Shouto's bit. He goes with the tough love approach, calling out every single bullshit part of Midoriya's thinking - just like Midoriya did it for him in the Sport Festival match, trying to draw out in the open all the tunnel vision and all the flawed thinking:

And just like in Midoriya vs Todoroki, they keep matching him with whatever they need to pull out of themselves in order to break through.

In Stage 3, they act as heroes in line of Deku's way of being a hero. Iida first drives home the point of Class A - that they will keep meddling because that's what heroes do, using Deku's words against him.

Then Kirishima comes in with his mention of the Sludge Villain incident, basically confronting Deku with his own past self - someone who did the same. Ran in into a situation where he was absolutely, hopelessly outmatched. And even though Izuku hides, I think he realizes that they are right - either he was wrong back then or he's wrong right now. And I feel like there is some sadness as he's getting ready to kill that part of himself - a quirkless kid who couldn't face reality and thought he could be a hero on heart alone.

After Mina talks to him, it's like he becomes a ghost, just like the vestiges, because he feels like he can't go back to being Izuku. The world doesn't need Izuku Midoriya, it needs the 9th Holder - full of power and just like All Might. All Might hid every piece of Toshinori Yagi to become the Symbol of Peace to the point that nobody knew his pain or his scars or what he even looked like. And I think Deku is ready to do the same, to take on the curse of the OFA holders and be alone for the sake of others.

And this is where Bakugou comes in - at Stage 4. He calls him "Izuku" and speaks to his childhood friend, not to the OFA-holder. As he delivers his apology, he validates and acknowledges every single version of Izuku as someone who always had the hero potential, something that Kacchan was afraid of, because it's not about the power level or the skill. There is something even more important and Kacchan concedes that he lost against that spirit every single stage of their lives. That they didn't become rivals in DvK2, when Izuku finally demonstrated that he's on the same level as Kacchan when it comes to power and fighting, but that Kacchan considered him a threat, someone even above him all along. And you can see Izuku coming gradually back on line - like his spirit, his spark is seeping back into his shell.

And of course, once it's back, once his faith is returned that maybe he was right all this time, or at least the foundation of everything he thought to be true, that somehow All Might or OFA made him into a hero is shaken, he immediately realizes the flaw of his own thinking. Without anyone ever have to utter a word of reproach to him, he realizes that while he was so obsessed with getting to 100%, everyone got ahead of him now in terms of spirit, in terms of understanding what makes a hero, in terms of accepting the path that they have to take.

And Izuku being Izuku, it means that he immediately regrets what he said to them, not just as something mean (because in terms of pure power or speed, it's not completely untrue), but as something warped, because there is more ways to keep up than one.

Like Izuku, who was always chasing Kacchan's back in everything physical or skill, has also been ahead of Kacchan in his heart and spirit. And now the class is ahead, because they have a clear vision and unity, while Izuku is flapping against mental cage AFO locked him into.

But I think he'll bounce back and catch up soon.

#bnha meta #bnha 322 #bnha 321 #bnha 320 #midoriya izuku #bnha #c1a asks #bnha manga spoilers #bakugou's apology #bakugou katsuki #iida tenya #todoroki shouto #class a