#making new friends feels terrifying because at least my current ones have 10+ years of shared experiences

[shadowglens]

also i feel like i need new friends

#tbd #like real life friends - this isn’t about mutuals #i just feel more and more these days that i have nothing but circumstance in common with my friends #like we were only friends because we went to high school together #most of them don’t share any of my hobbies or interests #or at least not in a way that i’m comfy talking to them about them #i had a few friends at uni but i stopped making an effort with them all very quickly after graduation #idk #making new friends feels terrifying because at least my current ones have 10+ years of shared experiences #it just sucks that i feel like i don’t have anyone to talk to irl about games or ocs or fandom or any of that stuff #and tumblr can only do so much #😞😞😞😞

[unsaidthingsj2e]

Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this

Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with

a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!

english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)

title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams

To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.

With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.

The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.

The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.

Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.

He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.

He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.

He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.

Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.

He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.

It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.

Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.

It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.

It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.

But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.

Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.

Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.

Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.

Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.

"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible

"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.

He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.

"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"

One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.

"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.

"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.

"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.

"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.

She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."

Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"

"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.

Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"

Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"

He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."

a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"

me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham angst #footballer blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you

[haila-wetyios]

I come from a third world country. Which makes it easy for peeps from the first world to have several misconceptions about living conditions or even where I am (my favourite is the one where they think Nicaragua is located in Africa, or me being Russian).

That said, my husband (who I now believe is the saint of patience in disguise) has done his best in the 10 years we've been together to try and at least explain to his family that no, I don't live in a hut, unaware of all commodities and twiddling my thumbs, trying to marry him to get a visa and dump him right away. Or that yes, there's several towns at my country with rich agriculture but all are modern enough that you won't feel like you're in the end of the world or in some random mountain in your tent (unless of course, you really wanted to go camping to all our green areas).

We got a half assed functioning capital city, we only have Summer all year round, and greens and dairy products are so rampant that there's tons of cheeses that I can't smuggle out to my friends because they come with zero preservatives and maybe some extra seasoning from the farmer hand that handled them that had no time to wash it before we got it.

We lack a few of the fancier things in current modern society yes (as in, old models of several things), but it reflects mostly in the lack of manners and survival of the fittest practice that we have to deal with on a daily basis against each other. And of course, the government insisting on getting the country to crumble from the inside and the oppression of those against it, but that's a topic for a different writing.

This of course, has not gotten through my dear mother in law's head, and now that I'm staying for a brief period of time with them to get the hang of Canada, everyday is a very wild day of hot takes from her strange assumptions about me, or the way she handles things in general. Here are some of them:

"That's a train! Have you ever seen/been on a train before?"

"Oh I just got organic milk! It's good for your body. Have you ever had organic milk?"

Asking which Canadian brand I have never heard off I would like for certain groceries.

Going through roads I've only seen once since first arriving and asking if they're familiar to me.

"OH I HAVE TO TEACH YOU HOW TO USE THE TV" *proceeds to press the ON button and tell me to choose Netflix on the menu*

Suggesting that since they got a bag full of toothpaste, lotions, deodorants and so on, that I could grab those and make small packets to bring back to gift to my friends and co-workers at home.

Being very confused as to why I would take a walk around the neighbourhood without my husband, who is chilling playing games and letting me do my own thing.

Asking my husband why I didn't cook him breakfast instead of us sharing duties on breakfast prepping.

Asking if I've ever had cheese from Portugal often (it's always a new different brand).

"Y'KNOWWHATIMEAN?" x8 times (minimum) to me during the day.

Trying to get me to agree that the current weather is blazing hot while I'm wearing at least 2 jackets.

Being very confused when I mentioned my parents went out on a fishing trip, asking why if our house 'is right next to the sea' (we live in the city).

Insisting that I accept several cloth donations.

Insisting that my family take several cloth donations.

Asking in different words if I've ever had boiled eggs???

Losing her mind when I mentioned we don't have sweet potatoes at home.

Being shocked that we grow our own herbs in the backyard (parsley, thyme, etc etc).

Now just in case, this doesn't upset me as much as it amuses me at this point. We deal with too much shit at home for misconceptions to get to me. But those are only the tip of the iceberg of everything I've seen and heard in roughly a week of being around. And I do have to admit, I'm both wondering while also being terrified of whatever misconception comes next. I've had several moments of giving the benefit of the doubt and my dear mother in law grabs those, and throws them into a home run far, far away.

She loves me and changing the way she thinks is definitely impossible. So just gotta take the list of things and roll with them I guess. In her eyes, I either popped out of thin air, or have been living in Canada for a long while, there's no in between image of me

#personal #There's so many more lol.... But those only involve her and not her image of me #She's... a very unique person #I have the nagging feeling she doesn't know where my country even is but I don't wanna ask and see another home run just yet

[rosereflects]

10/10/2023

[12/26/2023]- With some free time on my hands and a newfound sense of purpose and determination owed to the fantasy of our union, I have decided to share some recent diary entries. Though they are lacking in the philosophical speculation which I believe will draw us close, they are at least a brief introduction into the current state of my life. Further, I hardly expect you to find this collection any time soon, if at all. My intention is that when (if) that happens you will have enough to form a clear conception of me. 

[10/10/2023]- I find myself in this cave once more, though this time the circumstances are quite a bit different. I have quite a bit to talk about, and despite not planning on writing today, I will use the day well. I should mention here that I plan on collecting, editing, and sharing my recent writings, as well as those that are hopefully to come. I am thinking of The Reflections, my journal entries, and The Confessions. I only mention this because I have just very recently ‘lost’ several writings, namely a personal narrative with an explanation of Universal Evolution, a journal entry, and a close-to-finished version of the theory of Pride. With that in mind, I will start back at the beginning of September.

As of the first of September I am now twenty and five years old. It is difficult to recognize that I have been roaming this world for a quarter of a century. It’s shameful to recognize that as of yet there is still nothing of value to which I can put my name to. I hope that will change soon; that is, after all, the purpose of this trip. Still, it is terrifying to think that my life could at any moment end and there would remain no meaningful proof of my existence, nothing which would tell what I once was, and nothing that could possibly justify a quarter century experience. This collection of writings, I believe and hope, will be the very first thing to change that.

Now I would like to mention something that has been on my mind quite a lot lately. For quite some time now, I have been interested in combat sports. Lately however, I find myself thinking about them much more. I have also (loosely) kept a workout routine, but have recently increased this in both intensity and duration. I very much enjoy the idea of competing with others and building myself up to a level where I feel confident doing so. I am seriously considering joining some gym to learn a martial art upon my return home. This, like writing, seems like an avenue which may lead to feelings of true accomplishment. I believe it is exciting, difficult, and a practice to which I could dedicate several years of my life. At any rate, I genuinely hope that I do not lose this passion for some time.

I am still living in Arizona with my host Martha. It has now been over three months and I have no intention of making it past four. Things have been very well at the farm, and I believe I could rightly call Martha a friend. However, I did not plan to spend anywhere near this much time in any one place. There truly is nothing of significance to complain about here, and thus I would not mind staying longer if it were not for the fact that I have limited time while on this trip. I also told my family that I would be back in Texas for Christmas and New Years. After that, considering I wish to see as much of this country as possible, I think it would make more sense to head East rather than back West again. I would very much like to reach the West coast, however, I would just as much, or more, love to see White Sands National Park in NM. Thus, my biggest practical question at the moment is figuring out where to head to next. I have also considered simply visiting the park and then heading to California to WWOOF. As I consider it now, I think this may be the best option. After leaving Martha’s, I could take a couple of days to see Hoover Dam, the Grand Canyon, and White Sands.

While I am on the subject of camping, I would also like to mention a recent camping trip I had. About two weeks ago, I visited the Pierce Ferry Rapids. To reach that point, I took a ten minute walk along a sand path, and once at the rapids I decided to keep walking along the river. I walked/ hiked for about two and a half hours, pausing here and there to take pictures or a bit of shade, until I found a nice tree with plenty of space to set up underneath. I walked back to my truck, a bit faster this time, gathered my things, and headed back. I spent two nights there and had a very relaxed time. I did not do any real writing while I was there, but I did take my first attempt at composing a poem. Frankly, it was far from good, but I do believe it is something I should devote some focus to. The last thing to mention regarding my stay at Martha’s is the arrival of a new WWOOFer. This was Amanita, and they arrived just a couple of days before my trip to the rapids.

Amanita’s original name is Arnold Joseph, but they decided to change it some time back. They are not the type of person I would normally make friends with, this stemming simply from the fact that we share practically nothing in common, yet we hit it off well. They were polite and amicable, and several times we enjoyed a smoke after dinner. After a discussion of my recent camping trips, we planned a trip together. This decision would cost me those writings I mentioned, a headache, and is the reason I am writing now. 

Our trip began yesterday morning very innocently. We both packed our things, Amanita had breakfast and I a shower, and we headed out. We each came in our own vehicle because Amanita planned on heading home for a week after the trip. The first thing we did was head to a nearby dollar store for supplies. I bought some food for myself, as well as two 12-packs of beer and four boxes of cigarettes. Upon arriving here, the first thing we did was hike up to the cave with just a small number of supplies. We had had no more than three beers each when we decided the sun was low enough to begin hiking around. We walked for less than an hour before we reached the peak. Once there, Amanita decided it was the right time to take some acid. I, of course, agreed, believing there to be no cause for concern. We had reached the bottom before we began to feel the effects. We then brought the rest of our stuff up and got ready for a chill night in the cave. However, not thirty minutes had passed when Amanita decided they would like to sleep at the bottom, near the vehicles, and this was not up for debate. As we were beginning to feel the acid start to take full effect, we quickly gathered what we needed for the night and headed down. Once back at the bottom, I had the most enjoyable twenty to thirty minutes while the acid was hitting me full blast. Then, it was very quickly ruined.

I am really not sure when or how I noticed, but Amanita had all their stuff in their car. Then, without warning or explanation, hopped inside and started the vehicle. I quickly jumped up, put my hands on the driver’s window and asked what they were doing. Amanita’s only response was that they needed to talk to a friend, were leaving to get service, and may be back. I truly tried to stop them. I held on to the car, begged and pleaded, and even chased after them. I begged them not to leave. Afterwards, I was left with the stress of knowing I had provided alcohol to a twenty year old who was now high and driving. I did not believe driving after them was a good idea, so I stayed put. This morning I considered packing my things, driving out, and calling them to see if they were ok, but decided against it. I do not believe there is anything left for me to do now. Whether Amanita is or is not ok is not something I can change at this point. The only question is whether there is or is not some sort of trouble waiting for me on my return. Obviously then, I am not very happy towards Amanita and would gladly prefer to not see them again. Thus, despite not planning on writing today, here I am. Lastly, the reason I no longer have those couple of writings is that once we made the last trek down the cave yesterday I wanted to bring my bag down, but as we were carrying too much I, for whatever reason, decided to pull only that booklet out and take it down. I handed it to Amanita who put it in their backpack, and I obviously only realized until after they were gone. However, that is not so bad. While I do wish I could have copied those writings, this is more or less the way I intended to share them. I originally planned to leave it somewhere for a stranger to find, but I figure that as long as I don’t see them again, it will be close enough. 

It is now Wednesday morning; we arrived here on Monday. My stuff has been packed and I am currently writing inside the truck. I am going through the final motions of leaving and frankly I’m a bit worried. I worry there is some sort of legal punishment awaiting my return. I do not believe it to be very likely, but definitely a possibility. However, I genuinely believe I did not commit any sort of moral wrong. This trip was truly intended to be only innocently fun. I do hope everything is ok and I hope to not see Amanita again. Were it not for that detail, this trip would have been much more enjoyable. I believe it still was, to an extent, but I truly must take this as a lesson and attempt to not repeat it. In any case, I hope the next time I put pen to paper I am in much better spirits.

-Rose

#my words #my writing #life #rosereflects

[roonilwazlibimagines]

What are some of your scenarios to fall asleep to? 👀

Ahhhh I’m glad you asked !! Also please feel free to share some of yours they can be specific or vague idc I’m in desperate need

I will be going into heavy detail because I can’t help myself I’m sorry and I will put in both normal ones and Harry Potter ones

Also this is just like one big ramble I’m sorry I got too excited I literally turned into that Tik tok sound where it’s like ‘you’re asking me about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories’

Update - I think I’m just going to keep updating this as well when I think of new ones because I keep forgetting some

My most recent one is a royalty one where they’re like royalty but in their really prestigious and royal school they were academic rivals and did not get along and after school they like try to go their separate ways until a couple years later their parents force them into an arranged marriage for like the good of the country or whatever I don’t really care!! You can take it wherever you want from there but in case you were interested in mine he fell for her first and kinda gave up on the enemies thing pretty early on but she still made it clear he wasn’t her favourite person and she despised the situation and there is still constant teasing until she meets his sister or friend or whoever who says that they can’t believe how happy he is with them and she feels so bad because she thinks he deserves better and ends up being much meaner to him because she’s an idiot who can’t express her emotions and he gets angry at her because she’s being super mean after they were just starting to get along and they have a big argument and are forced to talk about their feelings and then I can never decide whether they actually like each other when they get married, I feel like either way is fun

I have a thing for royalty so my other one is literally just princess x stable boy and you can honestly take that wherever you want but I will tell you where I took it for some ✨inspiration✨ so I don’t have my drivers license and get really bad driving anxiety so I self projected and made her terrified of riding horses right (I’m so smart I know) and he is like trying to help her ride the horse and feel comfortable and like obviously they end up in love but I created drama because she sneaks out to his birthday party (!!) but his friends don’t like her because they just think she’ll be a snob but he obviously defends her but like it’s a perfect opportunity for a bit of an innocent princess as well

My personal favourite is the two co stars falling in love and like thinking about doing all those stupid interviews from like buzzfeed and all that and I personally love the trying foods from different places thing (like making them try fairy bread - because I’m from Australia and we aren’t that cultured and being mad when they don’t like it because it is my favourite food) and it’s great because i can make the guy any actor I am currently obsessed with 😭 but also like the red carpet opportunities and interviews and fan reactions and it’s very fun also this keeps my brain very busy because I like making it as realistic as possible and figuring out the actors timeline so I can match the story up with it, it’s always really intense, also if you want inspiration for what moving they’re staring in I always go for the live action version of tangled even if I don’t look anything like rapunzel

Another fun one is where one of them is in a band and you have a friend who is dating one of the other members but you don’t like the band and you’re not shy in letting the other members know that and it turns into an enemies to lovers thing but I haven’t really developed it because halfway through I ended up changing it with the fact that they befriend one of the members and like fall for them but the band member like ‘gets around’ and it makes them jealous until they drunkingly confess it made them jealous this one’s a bit of a mess and is tipping into a 2012 wattpad story but it was how I got back into my 5sos phase two years ago because I felt icky about them but I’m still a slut for Calum 😭

Another one I love is moving abroad to study or whatever (idk I just always need a reason to be in America/Uk because there’s no one here in australia) and you make friends with someone who turns out to be related to someone really famous (insert whoever you want) and you meet them and you think they’re the hottest person you’ve ever seen and you get drunk to gain confidence to talk to them and you’re like unashamedly flirting with them and they think it’s cute and you’re funny but the whole little plot twist is that you don’t know they’re famous (famous people love that, trust me, I have about 10 wattpad stories in my library that can prove this) !! And the don’t believe you don’t know they’re famous !! Anyways I took it in a sugar daddy direction but each to their own!

Specifically for Harry Potter though, you ask?

Currently I am obsessed with Regulus Black and for about the past two weeks I’ve been obsessed with the idea of James potter sibling x regulus black enemies to lovers story and then about a week ago I found an actually good wattpad story about it?!?! (I have recommended it here with warnings but I really encourage you to read it if you’re not a minor) but you can also do your own version because I am still doing my own version and will continue to do my own version tonight even if I am obsessed with the wattpad one !! Currently I am up to post Hogwarts and her and regulus are trying to defeat Voldemort and regulus tells her that Peter is going to betray James and so ofc she tells James but James is like ‘how to do you even know this??’ And he is so afraid and gets angry at her and it’s really dramatic and she tells him she’s dating regulus and then he gets super mad at her because she’s dating like one of the most well known and loyal death eaters (even if regulus is sneakily trying to destroy Voldemort) and because he didn’t tell her and it’s very dramatic

My favourite Sirius black idea is also a James potters sibling one, but I never have any good ideas for it and just end up self projecting so if anyone has any ideas, I am begging you, please tell me !!!

My other Sirius black one is one I’ve been working on for like the last 4 years of my life and I probably should write it but who knows, but basically it’s a 10 things I hate about you x Harry Potter story where reader is about a year or so older than the marauders and she is like Kat Stratford (for people who haven’t watched it the best way to describe her is just an angry early 2000s feminist who is like anti dating and fun (kinda)) but she is Lily Evans sister!! And so Lily gets fed up of James constantly asking her out and makes an offhand comment that she’ll date him when her sister goes on a date with someone and James is like really?!? And Lily is like ‘sure’ because she knows her sister will never date anyone at Hogwarts so James tells the marauders and Remus is like ‘if anyone can take her on a date, it’s Sirius’ and Sirius is like ‘no, I’m stupid but not that stupid’ and James is like ‘please I’ll pay you’ and Sirius is easily bribed so he tries to get her to go on a date with him and like she doesn’t until she does and then finds out he only did it because James paid him but then they fall in love? Basically just 10 things I hate about you lol

My next one is with Draco Malfoy and all it is is that reader comes from a pure blood family and they’ve known each other since they were babies and it’s like basically destined they get married but she gets like really upset when he gets the mark which makes for a good cuddling and crying scene and like idk people are probably more creative than me but I just like reimagining scenes from hp but with this new character so like Poa when she gets angry at him about buckbeak or the bathroom scene (maybe she duels Harry?) and she’s so upset about Draco and comforts him, or helping him in sixth year and comforting him or the quidditch scene in the fifth book (weird note, but I’ve always headcannoned that my original character finds out about dumbledores army but doesn’t say anything and like the da knows she knows but she doesn’t tell Draco or maybe Draco finds out and gets angry at her?)

My other one is another Draco malfoy one where James and Lily live and she’s Harry’s younger sister (and Voldemort isn’t a thing) but like there’s still stereotypes and beliefs and such and like it’s obviously enemies to lovers and maybe they get prefect duties together ? (I am a sucker for this trope in Harry Potter) but then when they do date they try to hide it but Harry finds out but doesn’t say anything until they get into a fight at home and he is like ‘well at least I’m not fucking Draco malfoy behind everyone’s back) (in my head they aren’t fucking because they’re still in Hogwarts but you get the idea) and James and Lily are just like ‘WHAT?!’ Like idk I just think it’s funny imagining James and Lily finding out their kid is dating Draco and Lucius and narcissus finding out Draco is dating a potter - so many possibilities!

Update 6.10.21

I also have one for Charlie Weasley !! And basically you’re friends with the twins and like you go your whole Hogwarts life with the biggest crush on Charlie but like he low key doesn’t even know who you are and you want to become a healer and then after Hogwarts there is a position in Romania and you take it because you know Charlie’s there and at first he is like hmmm I think I know you and you explain you’re friends with the twins and obviously he falls in love with you I also took it in a nsfw direction where it’s like major innocence kink because Charlie is just such a dom to me and he like teaches you everything but he makes sure you’re happy and safe and it’s not really like serious sex you’re both just having fun and he kinda introduces you to dom/sub dynamics but you can do whatever is most comfortable

#I’m probably going to regret posting this #it’s a mess #but let me know if you do actually use any of them and how you change the story #and please feel free to share some of yours because I am running out of scenarios 😭😭 #scenarios

[ahundredtimesover]

Friday Nights and Take-Out (1)

Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! Also Jk is a sweet friend

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, heavy drinking, eventual smut

Word count: 4,300

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist 

A/N: My recent dive into fanfics compelled me to unearth this thing I wrote 5 years ago for a certain curly-haired brit (luvu harry) but I never finished it so it never saw the light of day but now it will bc i love jungkook so much and idk what this is but let’s see!

#

There’s a light and unsure knock at the door. As you open it to see who’s visiting you this Friday night, you immediately wish you stayed at least a half hour later at your family-run café so you didn't have to be having this conversation right now. 

But you are having it right now. At your apartment. With your ex-boyfriend who finally decided to give you an explanation as to why he broke up with you five months ago. 

The next thing you know, he’s saying he’s decided to move back to Australia after graduation, he’s saying sorry for the nth time, you’re watching him walk out the door, you’re heading to your room for your blanket, you’re going back to your couch, and then you’re crying as it dawns on you exactly what just happened. 

The break up had caught you off-guard because things were going so well. Your dejected and grieving self wasn’t enough to scare him away and his shy, non-expressive self didn’t sow any doubts on your relationship. You two barely fought, too, too alike in disposition for any disagreements or grudges to fester and hurt you. Things just worked. 

But like many good things, this one ended too. It’s like he just woke up one day and decided it wasn’t going to work out anymore, for what reason, you never knew until now. It hurt you, of course - it was still a memorable 2-year run - but true to form, you were able to dust yourself off quickly and get back on your feet shortly after. 

You tried to reach out though; you were good friends before anything anyway, but he avoided you like the plague and you thought you’d not only lost a boyfriend but a friend too. Tonight felt like the closure you didn’t know you needed. He’s gone, for good. And then after graduation, he will be gone for good, for good. 

You stay lying on your couch until you get a text from Jungkook, your new famous friend and current favorite person.

JK: Ran into Jieun at work, says drinks on her at The Third tonight. You up for it?

Nope, you say to yourself. 

You: I don't wanna go out tonight. 

You immediately reply. On a normal night you’d think about it, or even pretend you’re considering it, but not tonight.

It isn’t one of those nights when you’re sad and you want to be around people and get wasted so you can convince yourself you will be okay. It’s one of those nights when you’re sad and you know you will be okay the next day but right now you’re not and you’ll deal with it until the morning comes. You’ll just have to wait because it is only 7:30 in the evening. 

You try to think of a series you’ll binge-watch, but then your phone rings and it’s Jungkook’s meme face, the one he took last week and saved as his contact photo, lighting up the screen.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, as you groggily pick up and say “hi.” You think he probably thought something was up when you didn't have a follow up message after you turned him down for something.

“Yup,” you manage to respond after an ugly sniffle. “Except I’ve been ugly crying for the past 10 minutes,” you continue.

“What happened?” 

He seems to have stepped out of wherever he was because you hear the mumbles in the background soften quite a bit and you figure you probably disturbed his dinner.

“Jinyoung came over and said the shit I needed to hear five months ago,” you start. “He copped out cause he got scared, Jungkook. Not of getting hurt, okay, which I always said was a bullshit reason for anything but he got scared of me and my dreams. I mean, come on, how much of a fucking coward can you get?” you blurt, sniffles in between phrases, fingers pressing the bridge of your nose to try and keep yourself from crying even more. 

“But I don't know, I’m pissed but he looked so sad and sorry and now he’s moving back to Australia and I just…” you try to continue, frustration rising up again. You’re a mess of emotions right now, that’s for sure.

“Ah, boys,” Jungkook breathes out, knowing this conversation is too important for it to be had just over the phone. “I could come over with food if you like. I know you probably don't need me but you need the food so…” he trails. 

You smile to yourself. “As long as I’m not disturbing your Friday night plans.” 

“You aren’t. I’ve had enough of the hyungs, if I’m being completely honest,” he replies, voice a little louder.

You hear a mix of scolding and laughter in the background, knowing for sure that the rest of the guys are giving Jungkook shit for bailing out on them for you. Again.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Thanks.”

#

You hear a knock on the door under the fleece blanket you have over your fetus-laid body on the couch. 

“It’s open!” You shout, as you tuck the soft white material under your chin and move to your side for a more comfortable position. You look at the built, chocolate-eyed, knife-for-a-jawline pop star walk into your place with what looks like take-out Japanese food. 

“What happened to locking doors?” He asks with a concerned and almost terrified tone, brows scrunching under his stray locks, the rest of his hair hiding underneath his black bucket hat. 

“I didn't wanna escort Jinyoung to the door because it felt poetic to watch him leave from a distance…” You dramatically say.

“And you were too lazy to walk 10 steps to lock the door, but were energized enough to find your blanket from your mess of a closet in the far corner of your room?” He continues, blinking continuously at you.

“Exactly,” you say, as you point to him as if giving him props for reading your mind. 

He rolls his eyes but grins as he does, revealing his dimple that you believe is the first line of offense of his charm. You may not be one of those people who get hysterical when they see him — although you did end up embarrassing yourself when you bumped into him at the café a few months ago when you’d met — but you know charisma when you see it, and you can’t deny that it basically oozes out of him even when he’s not trying. 

He sits on the couch, in the area where your feet lie, and he starts unwrapping the food and lays them out on your coffee table. You sit up ready to pounce on the sushi rolls in front of you when he stands up and gets two glasses of water. “Anything else you need from the kitchen?” He asks.

You respond with a no and watch him open the cupboards, and you can’t help but be touched at the effort. Here is a guy whom you’ve only known for a few short months, blowing off his Friday night plans to be with you because your ex-boyfriend decided to show up… and because you needed food and Jungkook knew you wouldn't make your own when you’re upset. You’ll probably just end up with a bowl of ice cream topped with cookie dough and chocolate chips or something.

“Thanks for being here even if I don't really need you to be,” you say after chowing down a salmon roll, legs crossed underneath you as you both sit on the floor and eat from the coffee table.

“You’re overstating that, Y/N,” he laughs, looking at you, as you’re about to have a mouthful of the tuna roll this time. “I’m 200% sure that you would’ve stayed underneath the covers and probably just ate ice cream or gummy worms until morning if I hadn’t come.”

“Fine,” you start, putting the food down, straightening yourself. “Thank you for my happy food and for being here on a Friday night, watching me carbo load on rolls and tempura rice in my jammies under my blanket. It really means a lot.” You flash him a smile. 

He laughs at this. “May I remind you that this is nothing compared to last week? Keeping me hostage here wasn’t the most fun. Except for your comfortable couch that I had the pleasure of sleeping in,” he grins, tapping the empty space on the sofa next to him.

Right, last week. How could you forget? 

Your days-late New Year celebration ended with you being a goner at the bar, Jungkook being the only one available and strong enough to take you home, what with your friends' adventures and misadventures that night. 

By the time you were home, you were completely passed out. Long story short, he had stayed - which you didn’t know he did - you walked out of your room half naked, heard a sound and someone approaching, screamed and grabbed a knife, ready to attack your supposed intruder, who only turned out to be him.  

So yes, skipping out on drinks tonight didn't come close to him having to take care of you the week before and almost being stabbed by someone he was only trying to help. 

“Please don't remind me,” you say, feeling your cheeks turn red. 

“It’s a funny story to tell,” he chuckles and proceeds to get a mouthful of his own tempura rice bowl.  You look at him surprised - didn’t he just have dinner at the dorm? You shrug it off, almost forgetting this is Jungkook you’re talking about and his bottomless pit of a stomach. 

“I could’ve killed you!” 

He laughs. “But you didn’t.”

“And I didn't have an ex-boyfriend knocking on my door to apologize for being a dick,” you say, sounding serious all of a sudden. 

You know that even if you don’t really intend on having Jungkook here, it still means a great deal to you that you have someone you can talk to. You didn’t want to disturb your friends who were busy with their own work and social lives and having him here is really more than you could ask for, especially considering what he does for a living.

“What did he say?” He asks, eyes soft. You’d only mentioned the breakup in passing a few times before because really, what more can you say? Sometimes relationships just run their course; it happens. At least that’s what you thought it all was.

You sigh, readying yourself. “He said that he just started to think about that talk we had about the things we wanted, and he pointed out the fact that I wanted to do so many things and it just scared him—my goals and the fact that I could reach them scared him,” you share, dragging the words and almost shouting at the stupidity of it. 

“I know I always say we shouldn't invalidate anyone’s fears but that’s being selfish and just ridiculous.” You put the chopsticks down, as if to prepare yourself for the flurry of emotions you were about to release. 

“This guy stood by my side when I got injured and when Grandma died and I was a literal mess. But I got myself together and I got better for myself and for him and then suddenly me wanting more out of life, more for myself, suddenly scared him?” You pause for a bit, catching your breath. 

“It’s like, when he realized what I - what we - could become once real life happens, he bolted out the door, out of this country, back to everything he knew before me, before us.” 

You’re emotional again, air catching in your throat as you feel the tears pool around your eyes once more. By this time, Jungkook had paused eating his meal to focus all his attention on you. 

You continue on about that 15-minute conversation you had - if you could even call it that, given that it was all Jinyoung talking, with you staring at the man you once considered you could have a future with. 

Once you’d calmed down, you and Jungkook exchange thoughts about relationships, back and forth with nuggets of wisdom that you don’t really expect from someone you thought didn't have the time of day to maintain a relationship. 

He’d be constantly linked with models and fellow pop stars, which he’d noted weren’t anything serious or factual for that matter, at least those that weren’t part of some PR stunt, yet here he is right now, agreeing with what you’re saying and adding a different perspective to things. 

He is a hopeless romantic after all, that much he’d admitted during one wine-filled night after crying over Titanic while you were both on the phone (“they literally knew each other for just 3 days, Jungkook, they couldn’t possibly be in love,” you’d shouted. “Ah, 1900s romance,” was all he said. “So beautiful, isn’t it?” Another gulp of wine and then he’d fallen asleep.) 

You two find yourselves grabbing the pitcher of Sangria from your fridge and settle on other topics, like what could be acceptable reasons for breaking up with someone, to the ideas of fate and destiny - which you constantly bicker about because you don’t believe in it while he does, oh so passionately - to the afterlife.

“Relationships are so draining,” you say, tipping your head back on the couch, a groan escaping you. “Even after it’s over, it still takes so much out of you.” 

“I can only imagine,” he laughs bitterly. 

“Words of advice from Friday Night Me - don’t get into one. It’s tiring to pick up the pieces once it’s over.”

“Friday Night You?”

“Yeah, the one who’s upset. Monday Night Me will probably say something different.”

This amuses him, but he nods in agreement nonetheless. “Relationships tend to get messy and I’ve already got enough crazy to deal with,” he continues. “That much I’ve seen watching the hyungs get into these things from the sidelines. I’m sure it’s great and all and I can’t wait to be in one too, don’t get me wrong.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“I mean hello, Jack and Rose?” You roll your eyes. “Allie and Noah?” 

You laugh. Seriously, this guy needs to watch more romantic films. 

“But I don’t know, too much going on with me right now, I guess,” he continues, shoulders slumped, eyes suddenly finding your fur rug interesting.

You dwell on this thought a little longer than you had wanted. 

You get what he’s saying, though. It’s draining enough for a commoner like you, what more for a worldwide superstar like him? You try to decipher if it’s sadness in his voice, maybe frustration? Resignation? Acceptance?

“But I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N.” He says, subject of the conversation now back to you, causing you to break out of your reverie. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he says, hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, no need to be sorry! I’ll be fully functional again by tomorrow. I just didn’t realize there was more to the breakup so I was just thrown off a little bit.” You flash him a smile. “But I’m good, really. And the food was enough,” you add. “And your presence, of course.” A smile again. You realize you seem to do that a lot when he’s around.

But you do feel better. You hadn’t thought much about Jinyoung since the breakup until tonight, seeing all the other things going on in your life. But seeing and listening to him made you feel all sorts of emotions that you really just wanted to let out. 

You’d kept a lot of these thoughts to yourself the last few months because you didn’t feel like there was more to say after that first goodbye, and it was nice to have Jungkook there to just listen, which is what you said you wanted him to do (“what kind of friend do you want me to be tonight?” He’d asked. “The listening one,” you’d replied.) But you’ve said what you needed to say, felt all that you needed to feel, and now you’re shutting close, under lock and key this time, that chapter of your life once and for all. 

After a fairly long silence, when he was sure you’d already expressed all your frustrations, he let out a breath. 

“Well, this was a much better option than drinking your sadness away at some club, yeah?” he asks, moving his body to his left side with his back on the armrest so he’s now facing you who’s also back on the couch now, sushi rolls and tempura rice all gone, sangria but a sip left. 

“Well, that wasn't an option in the first place, Jeon,” you call out. “I’m not really one who would take advantage of my misery and use it to justify a night of drinking and awkward hook-ups,” you anticipate, recalling the countless times your friends had encouraged you to go out and find someone good enough for a one night stand these past months.

“Ah, so you’re not a fan of hook-ups, no?” He smirks, looking intently at you, clearly curious about your thoughts on the idea. It’s amusing how quickly you could change topics but it was a good try to move on from the somber conversation you just had.

“I don't really wanna have sex with someone I’ll only be sharing fluids with,” you say, blankly. This intrigues him because now, he’s moving closer to you like a kid waiting for his next adventure story. 

You laugh at his movement. He tips his head, signaling you to continue.

“It’s just not my thing, that’s all,” you start, trying to find a way to explain yourself. 

“I want someone to talk and laugh with when it gets sloppy,” you say, “and someone to make me breakfast when I oversleep. A guy for pure pleasure probably wouldn’t be that person for me. He’d probably just focus on getting both of us off and then up and leave,” you shrug.

This amuses him, even if he chuckles and says “I knew it probably had something to do with food,” and being the Jungkook you’ve come to know these past months, he asks you something that catches you off-guard but at the same time doesn't really surprise you.

“Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?” He smirks again, excited for your answer.

“No, you’re too good-looking for that,��� you say almost instantly and you curse yourself in your head.

“So you mean hypothetically if you were to hook up with someone, he’d have to be unattractive?” He asks, seemingly confused.

“Uh, if it would just be for pure pleasure, yeah… I mean I wouldn’t mind but of course he’d have to be like, hot or something,” like that was common sense. “I’d probably be too drunk to focus on his face and it’d probably be too dark for it to matter anyway,” you shrug. You’re hoping this makes sense to him because your friends never did quite get it. 

You just really don’t do hook ups, especially drunk ones, not that you put sex on a pedestal, but you just have a thing for the before and after of it - the gentle fore play, the removing (and not ripping) of clothes, the cuddle and the aftercare that stretches to breakfast or lunch, and the lazy morning sex. Call you hopeless romantic or something, at least this is your version of it, but those were the things you like about sex, the full package. 

“Hmm, I feel honored to be too attractive to hypothetically hook up with Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, feeling proud of himself, smiling like a kid who just got a blue ribbon for something superficial. God, the duality and contradictions of this guy, you think.

“Let’s just say… you have a face and a touch I’d hypothetically want to get used to, so I wouldn't settle for just one night with you, and then it wouldn't be a hook-up!” You say trying to sound nonchalant, thinking about the tinylittle crush your friends claim you’ve developed on the guy in front you but really, anyone with a pair of eyes would agree that the man is beautiful (you’d always deflected though - “have you seen King Namjoon? Now that is the man, you’d say). 

You settle for honesty though, and it’s true. You just don’t delve on the full package thing, because you know Jungkook is exactly the kind of guy to do all that, but you stop your mind from going there, much so with him sitting in front of you. 

“Ah,” he says, pleased with himself. “So you could get used to this, huh?” He teases, lunging on you, his knees just barely resting on your thighs. He’s planting his hands on your face and squishing every surface he possibly could, laughing as he’s doing so while you shout out every cuss word you know and trying your best to hit him with your hands even if he’s just going to block your hits anyway. 

You kick him on the thigh when he finishes his rampage but it is you who squeals of pain because you used your right foot, the one you re-injured after playing a tune-up game of volleyball the other day. 

Naturally he grabs your foot and starts massaging it, as if he’d always been doing that since you’ve met, which he hasn't. And you haven’t even known each other that long. 

“You’re annoying,” is the only thing you could mutter after finally catching your breath. You can’t lie though, his massage is pretty good. You lay your head on your stretched out right leg and can’t help but close your eyes. 

He sees the satisfaction on your face and not long after, he quips, “I bet this is also something you could get used to after a good night of fucking, yeah?” he starts laughing. 

Since last week’s incident, you’d noticed Jungkook being more comfortable and definitely a little cheekier, flirty, even. Perhaps seeing you in your underwear could do that to a person, you think. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, and all you could do is hit his arm continuously so that he had started to flex after a few slaps. You literally were just talking about hook ups, why did you feel so scandalized? (You’re in denial; you know exactly why.) 

“Good? That confident with your abilities, I see.” You tease, as both of you have now settled down and kept your body parts to yourselves. 

A grin starts creeping from the side of his lips and you immediately regret making such a comment. “Nevermind!” You shout, holding out your hand to cover his mouth before he could say anything again. 

“I’m teasing. I wouldn't know, actually. It’s not like I do it often to know, anyway.”

At this you’re pleasantly surprised, not that you expect him to be the kind of pop star who casually and constantly hooks up with women just because he can, but still you know the parties he attends and all the beautiful women in his circle who no doubt wouldn’t mind making a move, or probably already do on a regular basis. 

Maybe you’re just startled that he would be open about this particular facet of his life to someone he hasn't known long. But then again, you two have been open to each other about many things since you’ve met, but that’s still something you’re only starting to get used to. 

“It doesn't matter,” you say, flashing him the same sincere and thoughtful smile that you put on when he started fixing up your dinner for you earlier. He returns your smile, eyes soft, as if grateful for you not asking any more.

“Well, I mean you’re good at a lot of things anyway so if you suck at that, you could always just sing or dance or impersonate someone and that would overshadow whatever it is you suck at,” you say, winking at him. 

He hits you with a pillow. 

“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better,” he says, “but thank you for complimenting my impersonating skills because I think that’s being undermined by the media.” 

You both laugh at the humor.

#

“Tonight made me feel better, though. Thanks for being here,” you say as you finish your glass of wine. 

It’s been hours since he arrived, sleepiness no doubt creeping on the both of you, especially on him who’d spent his day practicing and filming. It’s moments like this that make you happy you met him, that you didn’t freak out or think much when he asked for your number those months ago. 

It’s also moments like this that you remind yourself of what you’d lose if you nurture that tinylittle seed of affection that’s growing in your heart, one unwittingly planted there a week ago. 

He looks at you softly again, as if there’s more he wants to say but instead he replaces his bunny smile with a gentle one, wrinkles forming at the outer corner of his eyes, cheeks just slightly pushing up to reveal the bags underneath those orbs of his. They glisten under the lighting in your living room.

He lets the silence linger a little longer. 

“Anything for you, Y/N.” 

You let yourself bask in this thought, in his presence, just for tonight. Saturday You will get over this. 

As you lay on your bed that night, you decide it isn’t just your past with your ex that you’ll bury under lock and key. It’s also this.

##

>> part 1 drabble

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

[findingyourrootscomic]

Mudkip Cedar is so beautiful, isn't she? ;;w;; Such wonderful, bright colors. Was in the mood to draw Cedar and Nauki's baby forms today, feeling a little nostalgic! So! Some interesting news! Despite The Things We Have not being completed yet (14 pages left to render!), I’ve started to draw Finding Your Roots again! I think after an entire summer of working on the rabbit comic, I got super burnt out? So, I got in the mood to draw some FYR instead, and since I got back to working on it a couple weeks ago, I’ve finished eleven pages! I’m really proud of myself for how easily I’ve jumped back into it, and I’m currently working on drawing the next big battle. >:3 It’s coming out great so far and I’m super excited.

FYR’s third birthday came and went in July. It passed on July 10, specifically, that day three years ago is when I finished the first page of FYR. It was before I even planned on ever releasing the comic publicly. I wasn’t even quite sure whether I wanted to commit to making a Nuzlocke comic or not! And even once I started releasing it, I always had these fears and anxieties over the project. FYR is going to be long, guys. It’s going to be long. We’re seven chapters in and have around 23 to go. Book 2 will probably take me another couple of years to finish, and at that point? The comic might just be halfway done. We’ve got four books to go, book 3 is looking like it’s going to be long. I loved the project so much that the thought of burning out and never finishing it, a fate shared by so many comic artists, was horrifying. It would keep me up at night. I’ve broken into tears from the stress of it. Wooooof, right?

But recently, thankfully… that changed.

I was chatting with my friend @zeropro, who somehow found the right words to encourage me not to view FYR as a goal, but rather a journey. Zero is a really good friend of mine, one of the best friends I’ve ever had in fact, and she would always sit with me and listen when I would vent about the stress of finishing FYR. The last time I vented about it, complaining about how I might be working on this project into my 30s (I’m currently 22), she said this:

“But what’s wrong with working on it late into your thirties, it can just be this constant fun little project that you dip into, a documentation of your growth through your whole artist career. Wouldn’t that be nice? Like a rabbit you can take care of for a long time. Imagine being the author of One Piece or Dragonball, where it’s not about finishing it but keeping it going for as long as people will read it. Isn’t it nice that FYR will at least have an end?

“Comics like TTWH and LL, they are meant to be completed, but FYR and JBN, these projects are here to grow with us, to keep us company through hard times. What’s the rush? I like to think your art style might change even further as FYR goes on! And who knows where you'll take it!

“Every day you get to draw another page is another day you get to draw another page, not one page more of a thousand. Every day as you draw one more page you will end up there, but that’s not the point, it’s what you get to do now.”

And those words… I’m happy to say, they solved the problem!

It’s not that I have to work on FYR for another ten years or so. It’s that I GET to work on FYR for another ten years or so! FYR has been such a stable, comforting presence in my life these past three years, and while I’m excited to some day see it completed, I’m happy to welcome it in my life for a long time coming. I’m the sort of person who is quite terrified of change. The unknown scares me a lot; I’m not good at handling an unknown future where bad things could happen and I have no way to predict or stop it. But FYR will always be around for me. It’ll be a pet I get to take care of for a long time who can never succumb to old age. It’ll be a friend I can trust to be always be around, because I’m the one who controls it! And if I ever want to put it aside for a while to work on other projects, like I did with TTWH, I’m allowed to do that too! Doesn’t matter if it takes me a year or two longer to finish FYR cause I was working on other stuff. FYR will always be around for me, and for you!

I’ve been doing a lot of work on planning future FYR chapters as well. I basically realized that a lot of my plans for the plot’s future, uhhhh, kinda sucked? They weren’t incredibly original, were too plot-focused, and didn’t leave a lot of room for the characters to explore themselves and grow naturally as people. Character focused stories are always better than plot-focused ones!!! So I’m overhauling a lot of my plans for FYR right now, doing some outlining for late Book 2 and Book 3, and restructuring FYR to be a story much more focused on character development and themes. We’re gonna spend less time chasing down villains and more time exploring the characters, their feelings, growth, and identities. I think the changes are going to make FYR a really spectacular experience, a comic that’s incredibly unique. I’m excited to share it with you.

I’m incredibly proud to be the author of FYR. I’m proud to be able to make a comic that’s made so many other people happy. We’ve laughed together, cried together, and we’re telling this story together. I’m not going anywhere. So I hope you’ll stick around, too!

Because this comic is amazing. And it’s only ever going to get even better.

- SPB

#pokemon #mudkip #spb's art

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. 

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant. 

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry. 

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode. 

 3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified. 

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief. 

3:30 - OMG.  “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it. 

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT. 

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true. 

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot. 

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit.  hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining. 

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great). 

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius.  I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed. 

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition. 

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little. 

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining. 

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa. 

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3 

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha 

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3 

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general. 

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect. 

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk. 

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating. 

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it. 

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial. 

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!? 

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3 

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm. 

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season? 

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between. 

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder). 

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues. 

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.”  Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often. 

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore.  DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT. 

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here. 

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might. 

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay. 

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason. 

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :( 

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode. 

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers. 

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil. 

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this. 

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL. 

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality. 

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame. 

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast. 

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured.  Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him.  <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis. 

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people. 

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card. 

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour. 

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day. 

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence. 

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting. 

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back. 

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood. 

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :( 

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here. 

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son). 

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons. 

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator. 

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3 

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT. 

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die. 

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING. 

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her. 

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all. 

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it. 

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :( 

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene. 

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape. 

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds. 

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3 

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect. 

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie. 

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?! 

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces. 

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral. 

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth. 

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us. 

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity. 

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out. 

#jess-rewatches-prodigal #malcolm bright #prodigal son #gil arroyo #dani powell #JT Tarmel #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #edrisa tanaka #jessica whitly #I LOVE this show #whump #rewatch #spoliers #malcolm needs a hug #ps #so good #S2 #E4 #2x04 #2x4 #take your father to work day

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

This Sarah Everard case is so terrifying for women. But not only am I terrified - I am furious.

⚠️ tw for mentions of r*pe, sexual assault, violence against women, murder etc. ⚠️

She was just walking, including walking by busy roads and not dark alleyways. She was dressed in winter clothes. Even if she HAD walked down a dark alleyway or been wearing something short or “revealing”, she still wasn’t doing anything wrong - she was just walking somewhere.

Her murderer - a police officer named Wayne Couzens - plotted to murder a woman to live out his perverse fantasy. He didn’t plot to kill a specific woman - he knew he would murder a woman, any woman he thought he could abduct, any woman who would be out at night on her own. Sarah was just there.

Not only did he drive miles and hours to kill a woman, not only was he a police officer… he used his badge, police belt, handcuffs and credentials to fake arrest her to get her into his car. If a police officer tells you to go with them, we’re told to not resist, to be obedient or we will be in even more trouble. Even if she HAD done what the MET have just said women should do - “question non uniformed officers!” - it wouldn’t have helped her because he was a police officer. He had the credentials. Why would she run away and resist a police officer? And if women do resist, the police commit violence against them (like at the Clapham Common vigil for Sarah).

He handcuffed her, drove her for hours, then raped and murdered her. This fucking monster strangled her with his fucking police belt. He burnt her body and disposed of her in a pond.

A police officer did this - a fucking police officer, a MET officer, the MET we’re supposed to trust. And you want women to trust them?!!

And I don’t want to hear that “don’t judge the whole profession based on one bad apple”, because guess what? This is not the first time a police officer has harmed a woman. There is misogyny rooted deep in the MET that needs to be addressed. Wayne Couzens was literally nicknamed “The Rapist” by other police officers and had offended in the past by flashing people, and that’s just what we know of - and yet not a single person did anything. The police joked about it. Several officers gave character references supportive of Couzens during the hearings for his sentencing, and female officers told the press that they did not feel as if they could report concerning behaviour by male colleagues.

It’s thought that at LEAST 15 serving or former police officers have killed women in UK since 2009, and HUNDREDS of UK police officers have convictions for crimes, including assault. There are many cases that do not go reported, and so it’s likely the numbers on both counts are actually higher. Why are they still allowed to serve? Why is our government giving them more power and freedom to arrest whoever they please? “It’s not that many” - IT SHOULD NOT BE ANY.

If you can’t see why there’s a huge problem with our police force and why we say “fuck the police”, you’re part of the problem.

And the fear and anger we feel isn’t new - this has been a problem for literally all of our lives.

At 11, I learnt to come home before dark, and if it was dark in the winter on my way home (meaning: every night in winter), I was taught to not go down any dark lanes, and if I was walking the dark lane I had to go down if I got the bus home, I was to walk as fast as I could and to not have earphones in because i wouldn’t hear attackers. Every day from September 2009 to July 2014, coming home from secondary school, I was told to either wait for my dad or grandad to pick me up or to walk down the busiest road that ran near my house and had constant cars on it. I couldn’t take the shortcut down the public footpath on my way home from sixth form college because it was too dark and isolated - I had to go around it and through the village instead, which took more time but was vaguely safer. Since university, I’ve made a point of waiting for the hourly bus that stops just round the corner from my home and on the busiest road, even though I have to wait up to an hour for it usually, because getting the bus that comes every 15 minutes means walking up the dark quiet lane.

At age 13, I learnt not to talk to even very friendly men, even not in broad daylight, even with a female friend, when some old man approached us and started complimenting us, telling us we had “nice smiles” and “I can hook you up with someone who can help you get into acting” and “here’s £10, you go down to the garage down the road and get whatever you girls want”.

At 14, I learnt not to sit in trees in the park by the gate, not even during the day when it’s sunny, when an old man entered the park, took one look at me, and said “you’ve got a nice arse”. I couldn’t prove he had said anything, and I would see him on my way to school sometimes and panic.

At 19, I learnt that I could not trust friendly men online. Apologies to any decent men I have spoken to online - there’s a few who are nice and not weird, I’m not talking about them. I learnt this when a guy I was speaking to on my old blog - who had for weeks just been generally nice and checking in on me - started to send intimate and sexual messages that started with “*hugs you*” and became “*spanks your ass*”, “takes your clothes off”, “f*cks you hard”, just to name a few (and these were the milder ones). When I asked his age, he merely said “older” than me - “more than twice as old as you”, actually. I learnt to not talk to men online, and if I did then I had to set very clear boundaries in a way that wasn’t too obvious - not say it outright but make it clear I am “unavailable”.

I have to carry a rape alarm on my keys, just in case. I could go out to bars if I wanted to, I could have at university when all my peers were - but doing it meant risking the chance of being harmed while intoxicated or on my way home. I have to send my location to my mother if I get any Ubers, if I go out to theatres or cinemas in the evening I have to text my mum to say I’ve arrived safe. I only feel safe out at night if I’m with a man that I trust like my dad or grandad - I got very lucky at Uni because not only did one girl make sure I got home safely at 1 in the morning by calling me a cab, but one boy even stayed with me on another night until my dad arrived to pick me up, because he knew leaving me intoxicated at 2:30 in the morning was dangerous. I have even phoned my grandmother while walking home in the dark because being on the phone to someone means you’re less of a target to an attacker.

Men do not have this experience - or, if they do, it’s nowhere near the fear and worry women feel every day. Women can’t even walk somewhere without being worried of being attacked - we cannot go anywhere without asking ourselves “am I safe?”. Are we wearing the “correct” clothing, so as to not give off the wrong idea? Are we walking down the well lit roads where it’s busy? Are we aware of our surroundings, of every single person nearby? Do I have my keys in my hand, ready to defend myself if I’m attacked? Women are blamed if we are attacked - not men, but women. “She was dressed slutty” “she was passed out drunk” “she was walking down a dark lane” “she was out late”.

When doing safe guarding training at my current TA job, I came across this phrase: “always think it can and will happen”. Just as a teacher or TA should not think “none of my students will be victims of abuse”, women should not for one second believe that they are safe and “it will never happen to me” - every day we have to think of how to prevent our own assault or murder, just in case.

Every time I’m walking home in the dark, I have the fleeting wonder of “what picture(s) of me will they use if I’m attacked or go missing?”. I was not really surprised when I saw that other women said the same thing. Women wonder it so often it’s almost a joke, an absent minded thought. But it’s not a joke - it’s real life for us, every single day.

Sarah Everard is not a one off case. Sabina Nessa, a 28 year old primary school teacher, was murdered on 18th September this year, her body discovered the next day by a dog walker. So far in 2021, 110 women have been murdered in the UK by men (or men are the prime suspects). Only a handful get national attention because at this point, violence and murder against women have become normalised in this country.

I am not only heartbroken for all of these women and their families - I am scared for my own safety; I am scared for the safety of my mother, my grandmother, my aunts. I am scared for the safety of my 20 year old sister, the safety of my 17 and 14 year old cousins, for the safety of my older male cousin’s two daughters who are only 4 and 1. I am scared for the safety of every single girl and woman I have worked with, the safety of every woman I have ever spoken to.

But I am also furious and filled with rage. Women should not be scared to go out or have fun, we should not have to take such precautions or measures that still won’t completely prevent our assaults or murders. I am sick and tired of the victim blaming when a woman is murdered, of the indifference of “oh another woman”, of this being how women are expected to live their lives.

I’m tired of this problem being ignored by our government, tired of no one giving a shit about us or our safety.

#sarah everard #wayne couzens #tw violence against women #tw rape discussion #tw crime #tw murder #tw assault #tw rape #tw police murder #tw police brutality

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (30)

Author’s Note: Happy late Valentine’s Day! Fun note: I actually started A.S. on this very same holiday a couple years back. And I did not expect the length or plot this story has taken at allll. Again, I am sorry this is so late. I am hoping to update a LOT more this summer (only one summer class this time!) Unless I get the new job that I am hoping for (fingers crossed). But if I get this job, my free time to write will really open up for me. So it’s a win-win for this story either way.

Also, I want to especially thank these readers: adarkunicorn, softshelldefence, seafoamsands, hatakeliz, harza4925, peachop, cheese-and-biscuits, epitomeofprocrastination, tamnobela, and andreeastroe. These readers really encouraged me to keep writing this story after I was ready trash and take it off all of its publishing sites. You can thank them this story continues.

To all my reviewers, I seriously love you ALL. I am hoping I will get to a point where I can take a break from student emails and respond to each and every one of your reviews in the future. That will be my new year’s resolution this year! I am going to be better. You are all amazing and bring me so much joy and encouragement.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

Chapter 30: A Very Dangerous Game

Sasuke hated Kaguya’s sand dimension even more than he disliked the desert that covered the vast majority of the Land of Wind. This dimension was forever hot despite that the dimension’s otherworldly moon hung low in the dark horizon, a massive orb of blinding white that mirrored the Earth’s moon in exact replica. Sasuke had always felt like the illusion was a reminder of the Otsusuki people, and that Kaguya had designed this dimension to display something that reminded her of home. To Sasuke, the dimension moons eerily reminded him of Kaguya’s pupil-less irises, always watching the spaces that existed between nothing.

Glaring at it in paranoid response, Sasuke, deprived of chakra now, walked toward it slowly and determinedly as a challenge. He would show her exactly how her dimensions were now his domains. The Uchiha decided he would walk freely here because he couldn’t do as he pleased his own world. He wanted to scream curses at that eye-like globe, demanding the Otsusuki show up and take him on now in his weakened state.

“Come on!” he screamed. “All of you! What are you waiting for? Let’s get this over with! I will find you all eventually!” He wanted it done. He wanted this over. He wanted to have a life despite his promise to be the worlds’ sacrifice for peace.

As if to taunt him, Sasuke’s shuffling feet snagged over something in the sand, and he glanced down at his feet in surprise. A ninja’s vest, half-burnt away from acid, displayed itself like a green bearing flag left behind by those who had explored a barren planet. Even though Sasuke had been the only human to ever walk here, Sakura’s old vest that Sasuke had used as a teleport connection between dimensions back when he had been trapped here, always served as a call to his more current jumps. In other words, every time Sasuke had come here over the past couple of years, no matter where he opened the portal, he would always land within a few feet of it.

In the past, he had thought of removing it because it was a painful reminder in many ways. But as he returned consistently to the same spot, Sasuke began to theorize that it had something to do with his ability to travel here. At first, Sasuke believed it was because during teleportation, his path crisscrossed into a connection that had already been created and used before—this was the most likely explanation; his chakra simply wasn’t strong enough to rip a new tear in the fabric of space and time. But as he looked at it now, Sasuke wondered if there was more to it than that. Did emotions tie him to this piece of fabric? And because Sasuke’s friends always existed somewhere in the back of his mind, did his chakra seek it out as something familiar to secure itself to before flinging him through the vacuum of nothingness?

Sasuke glared back at the moon in hatred, wondering too, if it could be just a sick part of Kaguya’s illusions, knowing that the vest had in the past and always, always would continue to stop the Uchiha in his tracks. A temptation reminding him of a different life, one that would cause him to ignore the Otsusuki. Kaguya would want that.

He sat down beside it despite how much he wanted to turn and walk away from it as he always had. This time, he let it be his beacon out of the void, drawing some sort of strength from it in his chakra-deprived state. The whole point of being this exhausted was to avoid thinking of her, but the tattered shinobi vest always pricked him with guilt, especially now when he had left her alone in Sunagakure despite his promises of partnership. It was as if the green material had a voice of its own, saying “See how far she would go for you?” And Sasuke, keeping his thoughts private from the ever-watching rock above, would think to himself “I am doing this for her, too. She will understand eventually. She will accept just how far I am willing to go for this peace we both envision. We have the same goal.”

As Sasuke thought these thoughts again, Sasuke accepted that if they couldn’t be united in love, then at the very least, they would be united in the same goal, the same vision of happiness. It comforted him ever so slightly.

He sighed as he fingered the chakra pills at his waist, guilt invading his chest and suffocating him. How could he tell her his true feelings and make her accept what he was willing to accept? How could he satisfy the both of them and do the least damage?

Sasuke exhaled and leaned back in the sand once more to sleep, sweat beading across his brow in the high temperature. He turned on his side and faced the vest in exhaustion, pretending it was her—pretending to be satisfied with this small piece of the woman he loved and would ever allow himself to dream this close to.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The blackness pervaded all of Sakura’s senses as soon as her feet hit the ground opposite the giant hole she had just created in the sand. She blinked hard, hearing the cursing and alarmed proclamations of those she had attacked. The darkness was like a leaden mist before her eyes and Sakura instinctively created the sign of “release” for genjutsu. And whether it was from her lack of chakra, or because this was a ninjutsu, Sakura’s attempts yielded zero results. The blackness remained and blinded her past several inches in front of her face. When she heard Isao’s shout for her, she had no choice but to dart forward blindly, determined to reach him before someone else did.

“Let go of me!” the child screamed, his pursuer unfortunately catching up with him. Sakura navigated through the pillars of sand-dripping earth that now projected themselves in the air around her. With hands outstretched, she cursed herself. The blow had meant to disorient her opponents and it had, but this damn thickening darkness made it difficult to move forward through the landscape of her own destruction. Thankfully, the waterfalling crumble of sand masked her rushed footfalls.

The kunoichi drew upon her chakra once more, but it came as slowly as before, the medicine still lingering in her system with its toxic chakra clotting effects. Sakura moved hurriedly ahead, hoping that she wasn’t the only one choked with darkness.

Isao’s curses came and Sakura finally rounded a huge boulder to find herself facing the back of the thug’s head. He had his massive hands around the child’s throat, weapon tossed aside in favor of a crueler death to the victim that had caused him so much trouble. Despite his struggle for his life, Isao made eye contact with her the moment they were close enough to see each other. His attacker saw recognition register in the boy’s eyes and spun to face her. But it was too late. Sakura’s kunai was slicing the gray flesh of his throat before he even had time to see her, a final blow that had been delayed from earlier, but determined by fate to be his cause of death. The brutish ninja dropped to the ground instantly and Sakura justified the blood that pooled freely at her feet by remembering his cruel actions to the child that struggled to catch his breath before her.

Sakura picked up the abandoned weapon, the weight unfamiliar in her hands. The sound of the man’s death had betrayed her position, and the footsteps of his companions crunched closer to her location. Terrified, Sakura clutched the child, pushing him behind the jagged column of rock behind her.

“Isao,” she pleaded in a whisper. “You have to make a run for it.”

“I won’t leave you,” he declared, determined to fight to his death for her.

“The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help,” she said honestly. It was a half-truth. There were only a few realities before them, and Isao making it back to the village and bringing help was not likely due to how much time it would take. But Sakura was desperate to remove the brave child from the scenario. She cared too much to let him sacrifice himself for her.

“Miss—” he protested, but Sakura propelled him forward in the blinding darkness, an enemy’s footsteps rounding the earth that cloaked him. It was too late to argue, and Sakura turned to face the phantom-man who stepped toward her in visibility, shadows curling around him as he cleared a path through the inky mist.

Sakura faced him squarely, taking a defensive stance and raising the wicked katana with her sharper green eyes, sending a stare to him along the metal’s surface. The shadow-wielding ninja smirked and the rest of his crew appeared beside him.

“Go!” she screamed in final command at the child whose feet took off into the black at her back.

Sakura brandished the sword in confident threat at her attackers, herself serving as the shield between herself and Isao; they wouldn’t move an inch in pursuit of his direction if she had anything to do with it. Sakura had never wielded a sword before, but in the absence of chakra, she would become a master at it in this moment. Sakura was a kunoichi, a medic, a chakra control master, the pupil of a legendary Sanin, a rising legend herself, and today, she would add something else to her list. Scratch that. She would two things tonight: she would eradicate this new movement of anti-peace revolutionaries, and she would do it at disadvantage with the weapon of her enemy.

. . . . . . . .

As Isao ran, he clutched his side in pain, a sharp stab in his waist. The man who Sakura had killed moments before must have broken one of his ribs as he crushed Isao to the ground. At first, the young ninja pitched forward in blackness, half-debating to turn back to help the pink-haired ninja. But Isao knew the truth. He had been foolish to pursue her and her kidnappers alone and he cursed himself for his rash decisions in his fear of losing sight of them; he should have told someone else even if he lost their trail. Any of them, anyone at allwould have been better help to Miss Haruno than he had been.

Isao’s bravery amounted to nothing and it was evident in every piercing word from the medic kunoichi: The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help … Isao let the command fuel him forward despite the pain, until the night faded into morning hours later and the mighty walls of the Sand Village came into view.

He didn’t know how much time had passed and he didn’t wait to scream for help. The Kazekage was not in the village—he had overheard that much. Neither was the teammate that traveled with Miss Haruno. He yelled the only name he could think of, the name his heart still cried out to despite how much he hated him. The roaring sand shrouded his cries, and the prison walls would buffer it completely, but Isao begged to the air, shouting over and over, “FATHER! HELP ME!”

. . . . . . . .

The taste of the chakra pill was bitter, smoky and acrid. The Uchiha almost gagged trying to swallow it down, and he silently confirmed that Sai had been right—although Sasuke hated to agree with anything his entitled replacement said. What had he called them? Mudballs? Despite the accurate term, Sasuke feared his kunoichi companion more than he hated the taste, so he would keep the complaint to himself.

The pill pooled in his stomach and Sasuke took a breath, focusing on the ignition starting in his core. The rush of power was exhilarating as it topped off his chakra supply, overflowing visibly in a blue-purple halo around him. It sizzled along his skin and Sasuke grinned wickedly as a spiraling vortex appeared before him, much larger than any he had been able to create on his own before.

This was it! It was working! He pushed beyond the core dimension easily, his ready supply of chakra speedily fueling the tunnel between the void, but it ate and ate away at his energy and the color disappeared from his skin. Running off his own meager supply now, Sasuke exhaled and grinded his teeth in concentration. Finally, the connection was made and Sasuke threw himself through it.

He landed roughly, skidding to a halt, and he was ironically thankful for once for the Land of Wind’s high volume of sand. Sasuke found himself smirking up at the lightening sky as he recovered, because this was his first victory in a long struggle of jumping dimensions. To the Uchiha, it was proof that he was doing exactly what he was meant to do: beat Kaguya and the Otsusuki clan at their own game in their own territory. Giddy in his success, Sasuke used the last of his dwindling energy to rise to his feet, his thoughts immediately turning to the woman who had helped make this all possible—he hadn’t achieved this on his own; Sakura deserved the credit. And it was the first time that Sasuke could admit that he needed someone else’s help in his goal.

The dark walls of Sunagakure cut the bright morning horizon in half and Sasuke’s gut twisted in a combination of emptiness and guilt at the thought of returning to Sunagakure to face his friend after their… kiss. Sasuke was torn between finding her immediately to tell her that their plan had worked, pretending the kiss never happened in typical Uchiha fashion. But the time he had stolen away from her “to think” brought him to only one conclusion: he needed to apologize—again—and at least explain why. He had made her a promise to be a partner that depended on each other, and here Sakura was continuing to keep that promise, while Sasuke stole moments of happiness and bailed when he had to face the consequences. Suddenly remembering their sunset conversation the last time he had returned after leaving, Sasuke felt a fresh stab to his consciousness as he recalled her statement: “a part of partnership is communication.”

Sasuke slowly made his way toward the village gates. When he passed through the canyon-like entrance, people greeted him with “good mornings” while others stared openly at him. Their gazes were a little different, warmer, and Sasuke wondered if his teammate’s influence in the hospital had something to do with his newreception in Sunagakure now.

Feeling even more ashamed, Sasuke resolved himself for his female companion’s wrath and made a straight line for the hospital.

When he entered the hospital’s double doors, Sasuke came upon a scene that made his stomach drop into his feet. Kankuro, who was haggard from exhaustion, and had apparently returned sometime in the night, was fisting the collar of a hospital staff member.

“What do you mean they’re not here?” he bristled. “If she’s not in her rooms, then she should be here. Where’s Mako? Where’s the kid?”

“I don’t know sir,” came the panicked response from the employee, terrified to be facing the Kazekage’s right-hand man. “I’m sure they’re in the village somewhere.”

Hearing those words had Sasuke acting before thinking and the Uchiha rushed forward to fist the shirt of the same medic. “Are you talking about Sakura?” His eyes darted between the both of them and Kankuro’s grip released from the startled staff’s shirt in the same moment he shoved Sasuke’s own hand away.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kankuro accused icily, and a fire Sasuke didn’t even know he had left in him, surged from his throat in anger.

“What the hell is happening?” he demanded, taking another step toward the puppet wielder.

Kankuro pinched his nose in frustration, then beheld him in shock. “You mean Sakura isn’t with you?”

Sasuke eyes widened in immediate response, an answer refusing to form on his lips. Instead, he shouted, “You don’t know where she is?!”

Kankuro frowned deeper at his sudden animosity. “She hasn’t been seen since yesterday morning,” he explained quickly. “The innkeeper said she never came back to the inn. Mako, another medic, and Sakura’s young patient are missing too.”

Sasuke didn’t wait for any further explanation before he began sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the hospital, the filter for his behavior now completely removed. Let everyone think what they want! That bastard! When Sasuke got ahold of Mako, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Sasuke’s feet were unusually heavy and his breath labored as he continued climbing to the third floor toward the medicine preparation room they had occupied together only recently.

“Sakura?!” He kicked open the door and furiously searched the vacant room with his eyes. After seeing no one, Sasuke stared at the empty couch where they had sat so close to one another the night before last. As if his memory of her there could recall her, Sasuke gazed openly at it, breathing hard.

Having followed the Uchiha, Kankuro appeared in the door behind him. “We’ve already checked the hospital. She isn’t here. We need to check the rest of the village, quickly!”

She couldn’t be missing. Was she really with that assistant of hers or that child?  Were they off somewhere else doing something medical, or were they truly missing? Shit. Shit. Shit.

He turned on Kankuro in his unnerved rage. Sasuke wanted to demand where they had been, he and the Kazekage, but Sasuke remembered that Sakura had told him that they were investigating trouble near the border. He cursed himself again for being selfish and leaving her here alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Kankuro explained, “I was sent back by the Kazekage in the night. He is handling a situation regarding the ninja Sakura said ambushed you both in Tanigakure. The incidents were apparently related.”

“What do you mean?” Sasuke suddenly asked, a deep and cutting sensation coming over Sasuke that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time: fear.

Kankuro looked down and away from him, debating on how much to reveal. “With some unmentionable methods, we were finally able to find out who their target was,” he finally informed with a sigh. His eyes rose to meet Sasuke’s and the Uchiha saw the same raw fear mirrored in Kankuro’s eyes. “It’s Sakura.”

At the very moment that Sasuke’s knees felt like collapsing beneath his weight, the same staff member that the two ninja had threatened seconds before, came running into the room, panting heavily from having hiked the floors.

“Come quickly,” he urged between breaths, turning immediately to run back down the steps. “Isao has returned.”  

Kankuro made eye contact with the Uchiha before they both bolted back down the stairs, taking two and three steps at time. Sasuke cursed his lack of chakra that kept him from just teleporting downstairs.

Sitting in a chair, the child clutched his side. Sasuke noticed that he kept trying to rise, but the staff held him down as they tried to bandage a wound on his arm. Deep purple finger marks circled around the child’s neck like a collar.

“Not me! Her! Go find her, please!” he shouted as he struggled against them.

“Calm down boy,” a woman medic urged. “We have to staunch the flow of blood from your arm.” The child looked at his wound as if he didn’t even know it had been there.

When Isao caught sight of Sasuke and Kankuro, he started to cry. “HELP! Please help!” he shouted, and they quickly moved to hover over the child. Kankuro suddenly kneeled before him, taking the gauze from the medic and wrapped the child’s arm himself as he questioned.

“Speak kid,” Kankuro urged, “What is going on?”

“Miss Haruno,” he choked between tears. “She’s still out there! Please, we have to go!”

Before Kankuro could ask the child why, Sasuke did something appalling, an act that Sakura would be disappointed in him for. His sharingan flashed bright, soaking up the last of his chakra like a sponge, and he caught the panicked child’s stare in his own crimson and purple one.

Just as he had to Isao’s father, Sasuke stepped into the child’s memories. Isao’s recollections were almost too overwhelming for Sasuke to handle at the moment, each image dripping with the fear in which young ones saw the ninja world. There was also bravery in them and familial concern for the pink-haired kunoichi. Sasuke skipped through the memories like speeding up a film, an act that made his head throb in pain. He didn’t care about his own state at the moment though, seeking the green-eyed face of the woman he had come to love.

There. Isao’s most recent memory Sakura was of her telling him “to go get help.” Sasuke didn’t have time to go back further and he let the memories play out from that point, mapping the child’s nighttime desert sprint, hours long, from the empty desert back to the gates of the village.

Not needing to explore the child’s mind further, he released Isao and they both gasped. Sasuke clutched his eye, ignoring the angry glare on Kankuro’s face. He didn’t care about Kankuro’s morals or even the child’s shocked state at that moment. There was only one thing he cared about. He would let the child explain the details to Kankuro; Sasuke didn’t have the time to explain things to Kankuro. Instead, the Uchiha did the unthinkable, playing the very dangerous game of popping another chakra pill into his mouth as he sprinted out the hospital doors.

.

.

#approaching sun #approachingsun #sasusaku #Happy Valentine's Day #Sakura Haruno #sasuke and sakura #ssfanfiction #sasusakufanfiction #Sasuke Uchiha #sasukeshinden #sasuke shinden #sakura hiden #naruto fanfiction #narutolightnovels

[betweentheracks]

Updates//Recent Inactivity

Hello all! This is me finally taking some time to sit down and offer up a rundown on how life is currently going as a means of explaining my inactivity. This is a personal post that is guaranteed to be both rambling and emotional so if that is not your cup of tea, I understand and happily advise you just skip over this post as it is not relevant to the actual content this blog was intended for.

EDITED: After reading this back I now realize this is really just me spilling the tea on my own life and is laughably dishy in details which is extremely not my usual stance on my personal privacy. But idk, it was cathartic so I'm leaving it as is despite the urge to redact 70% of what I say.

I'll start with the good news that I am officially out of lockdown and have remained COVID-19 free since my return home from the hospital. This also means my son finally was allowed to come home to me which is dazzling and exciting and also a little terrible too. He's at a precocious age where tantrums are the cool way to communicate and having been gone for so long completely thrashing his established routine has caused friction. He came home and his parent was not the same as when he left; is much weaker and less energetic than before, paler and shaky - but also there's the addition of my best friend having moved in to assist and take care of me/him while we all do our best to muddle through.

The readjustment has been rough and a lot of this week has made me incredibly thankful to have practically zero memory of how I was as a child. There have been injuries: I have been whacked in the face with the metal cover for a floor vent while dozing on the sofa instead of paying rapt attention to whatever silliness he was showing off to me, there was his complete dismissal of me asking him to stay back and away from the hot oven as I pulled lunch from it's fiery jaws only to then be faced with a toddler quickly approaching with his hand raised to touch so I naturally made a move to block him and in the process I let go of the oven door which slammed upward and clamped my arm tightly between it and the inside cavern of the oven while it was set to a roasty 400 degrees Fahrenheit - earning me a mangled arm with burns of varying degrees, and then we also had that fit where it seemed like a much more grand idea to scale the babygate cordoning the stairs and I had to rush up them to stop him from tumbling face first down two flights and of course did the falling all on my own and did it backwards then slammed painfully into the wall of the landing. This all happened within a 48hr time frame and makes me wonder why I am so catastrophically inclined.

I have bruises that range the majority of my spine courtesy of the wall and stairs, two minor first degree burns on my forearm that are in the shape of an equals and quite large despite the lack of actual pain I feel from them, and the underside of my forearm was instantly blistered then popped then melted down into a horrid glob of skin mush and sticky red-orange and is a second degree burn that I have been assured is no real cause for concern as long as I tend it with care. In all, I managed to escape my momjuries relatively unscathed and with a child that was scared senseless at having hurt his momma and is quick to listen and never stops cuddling me in the time since. Here's hoping he isn't significantly traumatized from this since exactly none of this is especially his fault and is due to my clumsy, accident-prone status in life.

So yes, The Toddler has returned home to me and after some happenings we have settled and are happy. However, his blast from the past father has suddenly just decided to reemerge after more than a year of radio silence and static and has slapped me with a custody petition. Hooray. While I have no worries on this matter due to my mother working for one of the top custody lawyers in the state and snagging him as my representation, and the utter lack of competency on my estranged baby daddy's end clearly being displayed in literally anything and everything the idiot does/says, I do have to now go through the overhaul of a custody case and that is just so weak and exhaustive. Not to mention the basis of his claims that I am not fit to raise a child are founded in my health concerns and the crazy work schedule I keep; ironically, my health is making it so that I have much less insane hours and makes this fairly moot but to each their own I guess. Also worth noting on this matter is that he only did this now because he was recently placed under penalty for child support back pay and nothing in this world matters to him like his money and this is his special way of getting one over on me for tampering with his meager earnings. (He's a wannabe musician - the soundcloud rapper sort, just so we are all on the same page here). If I thought for even a second this was a genuine desire to be an active and stable parent I would be a lot less pressed to act in favor of making it legally binding that he can only see him under a supervisory condition and share time evenly, but it just is not believable in the slightest.

So the thing is - my health is actually quite dismal presently. I'm due in for open heart surgery on the 8th of April and until then I have been doing my utmost to mind all the nagging I get from doctors, PT specialists, the surgeons that will be slicing and dicing me, and my in-family medical practitioner that sometimes remembers he is also my brother and not just an MD. But like, you guys, this surgery is terrifying and technically is two surgeries rolled into one. They'll be cracking my chest open and then stopping my heart while they lift it from where it sits sweetly unhinged and lopsided in my body and very finely shave away some of the excess muscle that has built up around the wall of my heart as well as some unfriendly scar tissue that has lingered since my last surgery years ago. Granted there is no accidental slip that nicks my ugly gargantuan heart and renders me as good as dead, once this first part is finished the other surgeon will need to be deft and very quick to place this ventricular assisting piece in the valve that has all but given up on functioning altogether and do so in the time remaining before the time limit for my heart being essentially unplugged from by body is up, which would also feasibly mean my death. Lots of exciting and terrible sounding consequences, am I right?

Well let's bear it in mind that I am just below 30 in age and therefore not duly experienced in the realm of facing down my own mortality via making all necessary legal arrangements and managing my affairs and assets so that, in event of my untimely death, the custody case still doesn't stand a chance of snatching my son away to the sad misfortune of being raised by a man that has stated openly he only has interest in his kids so far as what they can do for him/get for him in terms of benefit and that he would be unwilling to be hypocritical and never deter his children from drugs and a lifestyle of extremely questionable moral integrity and hygiene alike. Eugh. But I also have had to make sure there is a DNR in place just in case things go wrong during the operation, my will has also been finalized and notarized, all my savings and financial/material assets have been squared away to come into my child's inheritance when he is of age and, most importantly, a document that states clear and direct instructions for him to be placed in care of my mother or, if she is unwilling or incapable, he will be under custodial order and guardianship of my best friend whom he has always viewed as a pseudo-dad anyway. Legally binding and even in light of the paternity petition this document supersedes parental right by way of the provided evidence I have submitted to prove a lack of parental credibility. That's right, I spent days lowkey stalking and sleuthing about to capture what I needed to show this man for what he actually is and I have precisely zero guilt or shame for doing it; this is my child on the line and that means momma doesn't have to play by the rules of snitches getting stitches or whatever other scary street rules he tosses at me as idle threats. (He's done this routinely for all the years I have known him, and it is somehow both pathetic and hilarious because he knows for a fact that, if I wanted, I could throttle him in less time than it would take for him to form a rational thought between his drug soaked braincells - I was also a person of less than savory character not too long ago and can handle myself very well. But I digress because I am losing my track of thought.

After the surgery I will have so damn much PT and rehab, all of which will be specific to varying parts of my body that will need to be reworked and strengthened. Weeks, months of it really. This surgery is major and hits heavy enough that I will be in the hospital for at least 10-14 days just recovering from it without taking into consideration any number of complications that could pop up. Hell, if they get in there and find a situation worse than they currently have an understanding of in the limited capacity of cardiology tech can provide of such a gnarled beastly heart and realize they can't really do anything with it after all, I'll be added to the transplant list. I think this is more daunting to consider than the surgery, honestly.

In that way that doctors have about them, I was "comforted" by being informed that this was an inevitability and I would have been faced with this in a matter of years - less than a handful actually - but the way COVID-19 chewed through me sped it up. I'm sure my years of substance issues were also very helpful in this endeavor, but either way I still am unsure whether I feel better knowing this or not? Mostly I think I feel conflicted and hopeful tempered with the caution of life being super shady in the ways it has often brought me to the doorsteps of dying in situations that seem like odd chance. I also am gifted with being so capable in jinxing myself that I brought myself to COVID-19 ("The way life is going I'll probably square up with Rona next week or some bullshit." Positive test flagged within the following week) and also into labor ("Watch me go into labor on Labor Day since that would be the sort of universal pun that would strike my bad penny having ass." Indeed hatched my youngling on Labor Day of that year) by saying some things within the scope of my bad humor that instantly manifested as reality so I'm not taking any risks here lol.

The gist is that life is really stirring up the winds over here and so I haven't been online and posting anything that would make my blog valid in a fat minute. I do apologize for this and also for the fact that this post took me nearly a week to type up, but when things calm a little I will be back in full. For the time being I will be sporadic and do what I can when I can!

Thanks to anyone that read this mess all the way here! And a big thank you to all of you still supporting me!

#racks chats #entirely too long and too personal

[simp-for-mha-men]

𝕒 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤 (𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚 𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕘𝕠𝕦 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Request by @oneseharuxo: So, Can I request a bakugo x fem! Reader fluff where it's the reader's birthday? I really loved the Aizawa fluff! And you can take your time dw!

A/N: My first request! I was so incredibly soft while writing this. It’s the cutest little thing for our favorite explosive boy. I hope you all enjoy this little bit of Bakugou positivity to get you through the week! Also, I was listening to Ghibli soundtracks so it got super romantic. Enjoy!

Genre: some cute pro-hero!Bakugou and pro-hero!reader banter/fluffy times, a little bit of swearing, a dash of angst in the beginning about the reader feeling terrified of the future during past birthdays 💥❤️

Word count: 3.9k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

Birthdays are awful. No matter how you celebrate them, they always bring on the negative and looming thoughts of the future. You’ve known this since you were quite young.

Your mother told you not to worry about your 6th birthday party. You didn’t care about the theme, cake, or favors because you were too caught up in the idea about starting kindergarten. It was terrifying. You were going to need to make new friends, meet new teachers, and start the beginning of a full education.

On your 12th birthday, you began to worry about becoming a teenager. Sure, it was a year away, but it still scared you. The fact that high school was just around the corner made you want to vomit. Middle school was already a big issue in your life, and high school was just going to make it all worse.

When you turned 16, you were already done with U.A. You began to get anxious about your future as a pro-hero. Who would you intern with? Who would you do a work studies with? Who would you be a sidekick for? When would you get your own agency? All of these questions brought on a lot of stress, causing you to want U.A. to invest in one thing: a counselor.

Your classmates were a big help during this period, considering they were all thinking the same things as you. You got close with a certain group of “hooligans,” as Mr. Aizawa put it. He told you to be wary of those individuals, but he was so wrong. The Bakusquad, comprised of Mina, Denki, Hanta, Eijiro, and Bakugou, brought you so much joy and made you forget about your thoughts temporarily. However, you weren’t as close with Bakugou as you were with the others. You were never even on a first name basis with him.

Now, you were older and still stressed yourself out about the littlest things. You had officially become a pro-hero, after graduating as a sidekick to Best Jeanist, and worked at Bakugou’s agency due to him “owing you a favor” from high school. You wanted to start your own agency, but you were currently tight on money due to some issues with your apartment. Of course, the entire plumbing system needed to be fixed right before your meeting the bankers to ask for a loan.

Bakugou was “kind” enough to let you work alongside him, but he treated you the same way he did in high school. He was distant enough to not ask you personal questions, yet he always showed up when you had a bad day and needed to rant to someone. Today, it was the latter.

“He was so idiotic and rude!” you yelled to your co-worker.

“Yeah, what an asshole,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk.

You were currently in Bakugou’s personal office, looking out the window and whining about a man you encountered after your recent rescue. It was already close to 10 PM so the building was empty. It was always like this, especially with the week just beginning.

“After he told me to come over later,” you sighed, “he tried to get my number.”

“Wait, really?” Bakugou asked, walking over next to you.

“Yeah! I mean, come on! You don’t just say that to a pro-hero. I’m not even that good looking.”

Bakugou fell silent. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t get anything to come out. He thought you were so gorgeous. How was he supposed to tell you that, though. He had acted as if he hated you until you both were 3rd years. He always regretted that. Maybe he needed to learn how to just “be manly,” as Kirishima would say, and tell you his actual thoughts.

“Hey, dumbass,” you said, flicking his forehead.

He rolled his eyes dramatically before grabbing your hand and flinging it away as gently as possible. “Oh, please. You’re the dumbass, dumbass.”

You giggled at your friend’s response. It was a classic exchange between the two of you. He had always called you a dumbass, and you had grown accustomed to it. You thought it was endearing and sweet, despite it being an insult the first time he said it. At least he wasn’t calling you an extra anymore.

“Well,” you began again, “what kind of paperwork do you have tonight? Is it some major damage paperwork due to your inferiority complex?”

“Shut up,” he growled. “Today, I actually didn’t go out. I had a couple of meetings with the damn nerd and pink cheeks.”

Huh, you didn’t remember him telling you about seeing Izuku and Ochako. You two weren’t the closest, but you both knew each others’ schedules inside and out in case of an emergency. 

“Oh,” you replied, dramatically. “Let me guess, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Uravity.”

That earned you a hard punch in the shoulder. While you were wincing in pain, Bakugou was churning over what you had just said in his mind. Did you think he had a thing for pink cheeks? You had thought a while back about him and Kirishima dating, earning relentless teasing from Raccoon Eyes, until he denied it.

“You know for a fact I wasn’t,” the explosive hero commented, walking back to his desk.

“Yeah, yeah,” you groaned.

“You just love getting in my head, don’t ya?”

“Obviously.”

“You’ve been doing it more recently.”

Oh no. He’s noticed. You admit that your teasing has gotten a bit heavier since the beginning of the month. Why? You were trying to distract yourself from a certain day. Today, if you want to talk specifics.

“You wish,” you uttered quickly.

Bakugou chuckled and bore his vermillion eyes directly into yours. Smirking, he commented, “You totally have. What? Finally developed feelings for me or some shit?”

Well, great way to get caught twice in the span of 30 seconds. You were way too obvious for your own good. However, Bakugou was oblivious. You’ve liked him since 1st year. I mean, how long is it going to take this guy?

Trying to cover up your embarrassment, you howled with laughter before saying, “Absolutely not! How low do you think my standards are?”

He started chuckling. You turned back to face the window again and joined in the hilarity of his accusation. Although both of you wanted him to be right, neither of you wanted to admit it. With Bakugou’s pride and your fear, a confession was not in the near future.

Bakugou’s laughter subsided first, causing him to look down at the mahogany desk. A faint blush crept up on his cheeks from your sweet voice filling the air before fizzling out. Damn, he really thought he had you there. Apparently, he read the signs wrong.

“When are you leaving?” a tone of bitterness lining his voice that he wished wasn’t there.

You flinched at the sudden hostility and glanced at your watch. “Now, I guess. I mean, all I’m doing is going to my shabby apartment to freak out over my ever-growing age.”

“What?”

“What?”

Both of you were looking at each other. You just let slip your biggest flaw: your tendency to overthink your future. Also, it was your least favorite day: your birthday. The fact you admitted it in front of Bakugou, your only crush in history, was like being bound up my Hanta’s tape. 

You couldn’t move. You had always kept up a stronger guard around the blonde than with the others because you had another fear. You had never even let this slip to Mina, and that’s saying something. Your biggest fear besides the future was losing Bakugou.

Throughout your time at U.A., he constantly pushed you to do better. Whether you were doing a simple training exercise or working on getting stronger for the sports festival, he was always there to encourage you. Of course, his encouragement was telling you to get your ass in gear or face the consequences from him, but it was still sweet of him. 

Suddenly, the opening of desk drawers sounded through the room. You tilted your head to the side, wondering what your angry Pomeranian of a friend was doing. All you could hear was grunting for a couple of seconds.

Then, pens and pencils were thrown out. Next, pieces of paper went up in the air. Whether they were contracts for new sidekicks or just blank binder sheets, you ducked so you wouldn’t get in the crossfire of flying office supplies. After a couple of other things, like paper clips and sticky notes, were scattered across the office, Bakugou finally sighed.

You looked between your hands covering your face and noticed he held...a calendar? Since when was King Explosion Murder organized? You had known this man for years and understood his habits. You even understood why he went to bed so early in high school. This, however, was very different.

“Ugh, what the hell?” he muttered.

Just as you were about to ask him what was up, he grabbed his bag off the back of his chair. He jogged over to you, grabbed your hand and bag, and opened the door.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, shoving you into an elevator. “How long? How long have we known each other? You still never told me.”

Your brain couldn’t keep up. What was he talking about? Did you forget an important dinner meeting he had? No, he usually only scheduled those on Fridays. Then, what was going on.

Before you could ask him, you felt your whole body being yanked by the muscular man. He took you both down to the parking garage and walked straight to his BMW convertible. Letting go of your hand, he went to the trunk and dropped both of your bags in. He opened your door, practically shoving you in, and slammed it closed when all of your limbs were safely inside. Bakugou got in the driver’s seat, buckled his seatbelt, and started the car.

You felt very hazy. You know Bakugou can get...intense about certain topics, but he’s never dragged you into it. The calendar was weird. Him dragging you to his car was weird. The aura was weird. All of this was weird.

“Bakugou?” you asked.

“You’re such a dumbass,” he scoffed.

“Bakugou, please tell me wh--”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

He was acting strange. You weren’t phased by his attitude since you’ve known each other for ages. Deciding to give up, you sighed and looked out the window. The scenery passed by quickly, making your mind wander to the moment you realized you liked him.

It was a normal day at U.A., and exams were just around the corner. You were planning to study alone until Bakugou asked you to join Denki, Eijiro, and himself. You agreed and immediately regretted it. Bakugou was constantly yelling at your other two friends because they were being absolute idiots. In his defense, they were. Denki didn’t even know his body was made of cells, for crying out loud. Despite this, Bakugou indirectly complimented you on your notes. He even smirked a bit at your flustered response. You knew from the way your heart picked up its palpitations that you had fallen hard.

“Out,” Bakugou huffed, scaring you out of your flashback.

Opening the car door and getting out, you looked up and noticed his apartment complex. You heard from Eijiro that it was nice, but it was beautiful. It was made with a light gray cement, almost looking white in the light of the moon. The wood accents were all dark oak, and each apartment had a secluded balcony. You’d definitely have to hit Red Riot the next time you saw him for calling this complex “nice.”

Noticing Bakugou had already grabbed your bags and started up to the door, you began walking to catch up to him. You both got in the elevator, and he pressed the button to the top floor.

You turned your gaze to him. He was deep in thought. His eyes held a purpose, but they were a bit muddy. The reason he had dragged you here must’ve been important. Could it be a reconnaissance mission of some sort?

Soon enough, the ding in the elevator signified your arrival. Instead of a long hallway lined with apartments, there was only a single door. Bakugou slid his key in and turned the look. Holy mother of All Might...Bakugou owned a penthouse.

You were expecting minimal decorations from your friend, and you were right and oh so wrong at the same time. Everything in his apartment was classy and modern. From the wood floors to the paint color to the granite on the counters, his house looked like it had been done by a professional designer. You decided in that moment that you were never taking Bakugou to your apartment.

“Well,” he sighed softly, “go take a shower. The bathroom is down the right hallway over there. You can use one my shirts and a pair of shorts once you’re done. Just don’t waste all the hot water, got it?”

You blinked your eyes a couple of times before meekly nodding your head. Carefully walking over in the direction he pointed, you admired the living room from a new perspective. You also got a chance to see the paint color up close. It was a beautiful soft blue that held a lot of gray tones. It was perfect for a man of his caliber, despite his anger issues.

Once you got to the bathroom, the clothes were already there for you. Bakugou had either gained your former class president’s quirk or you were walking extremely slow. Either way, you smiled when you recognized the top: his iconic black skull t-shirt. He’s had it since high school. The fact he chose that one for you, or maybe just yanked it out of the depths of his closet, made your heart flutter.

The warm shower helped clear your senses. You had to figure out a way to make sure you kept your cool around Bakugou. You had no idea why your crush had acted so strangely before dragging you to his apartment. However, as strange as this whole thing still was to you, despite living in this reality for almost an hour, you couldn’t let him know anything.

After using up almost all of the hot water, you got out of the shower and put on his clothes. They felt so comfortable and reminded you of some of the craziest things you both had gone through. From the USJ attack to witnessing All Might’s fall, you two had seen a lot of crazy things. These thoughts helped give you courage. With that, you checked yourself in the mirror one last time and went to the living room.

Upon walking into the open space, you felt your heart stop. You had only been in the shower for 15 minutes, but Bakugou had done some work. The angry boy you had watched grow into a man had changed, but what you saw was completely beyond you.

On the coffee table, a little strawberry cake with fluffy white icy sat in all its beauty. Next to it were two forks, some napkins, and two cups of tea. There was a card with a picture of you and Bakugou messing with each other that Denki had somehow snapped after the concert had been executed perfectly in 1st year. The reason he had rushed you to his house wasn’t because of hero work. He knew it was--

“Happy birthday, dumbass,” he said, causing you to look up to him.

He held the softest expression you have ever seen. Bakugou’s eyes entranced you and held something similar to...adoration? He was holding some candles in his right hand, but his left hand was hidden behind his back.

“But,” you began, “how? How did you even remem--”

“We were in Yokohama at the hero conference a couple of years ago,” he stated. “Jeanist told me your birthday was coming up, and I asked him what specific day it was. After that, I marked it in my calendar.”

He sauntered over to the coffee table and sat down on the ground. He placed each of the candles meticulously onto the birthday treat. It was almost too perfect.

“I then tried to find you a gift,” Bakugou continued. “Of course, I suck at remembering what people like. I couldn’t get you anything. I did remember something, though.”

Once the candles were placed, he activated his quirk, barely creating a spark, and lit the candles. There were only 4, but it was even sweeter than him leaving out his shirt. 

“At U.A., you always distanced yourself around this time,” Bakugou said, looking up at you. “I thought you had a family thing happen to you or something, but Dunce Face explained it to me. This year, I wanted to change that for you.”

You were speechless. Never in your life did you expect such a gesture from your friend. At this point, it didn’t even feel like you two were friends. It felt as if you two had been together since the dawn of time.

Bakugou then slid on the floor and propped himself on one knee before you. He took his left hand from behind his back, revealing a black and orange box. When he slowly opened it, you gasped at what you saw. It was a Cartier simple black band adorned with emeralds and jaspers.

Tears welled in your eyes as Bakugou extended his hand to you. You placed yours gently in his, allowing him to stand up and slide the ring onto your right hand. It was a perfect fit. Never in your life had you received such a perfect birthday gift. It was a sign from the universe, you thought. It was now or never.

“Baku--” you began, inhaling a sharp breath before starting over. “Katsuki, I can’t keep it from you anymore. I think I like you.”

“No,” Bakugou stated, trying to contain his laughter.

“Excuse me?”

“Try it again, (y/n). Tell me how you really feel.”

You were too infatuated with this man to get angry at him now. Screw your pride. This was your man standing in front of you. You had to say it. You had to say the words he and you both wanted to hear.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you announced, causing warmth to flood to your cheeks.

He smiled and sighed. Rubbing a hand over his face, he groaned, “You know I suck at words so get your ass over here.”

Listening to his command, you stepped forward into his arms. He glanced at your lips before you both instinctively closed the gap. You had never felt more alive. It was as if you were both perfectly molded for each other. Whatever god or goddess had created you had also created the handsome specimen you were kissing. The genuine passion and love his kiss held spoke to your heart. It made you realize that the time you had spent waiting to confess to him was wasted time. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. This was the moment you had been waiting for.

After pulling apart, you both stared into each other’s eyes. Every romance manga you had ever read could’ve never prepared you for what this man was about to say to you.

“Be mine?” Katsuki questioned.

“Absolutely,” you smiled, kissing him once again.

Your entire world changed in those two words. His entire world changed in the response you provided him with. It was meant to be. It was the best thing to ever happen to him. You, (y/n) (l/n), were the best thing to ever happen to him. It was because of you his anger subsided drastically in 3rd year. It’s because of your positive personality that he ended up deciding to take a social ethics class to be kinder to civilians. It’s because of your smile that he kept going, even through the events you both had been through.

Breaking off the kiss, you giggled before saying, “I should blow out those candles. Wouldn’t want your fancy place getting burned to a crisp.”

Playfully punching your shoulder, Katsuki sat down and held open his arms. You got on the ground and crawled into them, feeling peace and security enter your system. Leaning forward, you thought for a few seconds before blowing out your candles. You did make a wish, for the first time in your life, despite having everything you could’ve ever wanted holding you tightly to his chest.

“Wanna break the rules and tell me what you wished for?” he whispered in your ear.

“Sure,” you replied, turning your head to look into his eyes. “I wished for our new relationship to be even better than our friendship.”

Rolling his eyes, he leaned in and kissed your temple. “Now,” he said, grabbing the forks, “let’s dig in.”

You both sat together on the floor of Katsuki’s apartment for the next 3 hours, talking, laughing, and eating the strawberry cake. You both reminisced on how you met, gave your genuine first impressions of each other, and even talked about your first thoughts on the life threatening situations you guys had been in.

For the first time in your life, you weren’t worried about the future. You were actually excited by it. Why? You finally had your partner...no, soulmate. Katsuki was meant to be with you, and you with him. Everything had finally fallen into place. This was the best birthday you had ever had.

Together, you cleaned up the dishes at 3:22 AM, and Katsuki headed off to take his shower. During this time, you began to wander around the apartment again. There was a wall, secluded from the others, that caught your attention.

On it were multiple sleek, black picture frames holding many different photos. There were a couple from the sports festival in 2nd year, one of the first photos the Bakusquad took with you, a couple of Katsuki and Izuku when they were kids, and a single photo of you.

You recognized it. You were at the beach with Mina and Hanta because they begged you nonstop to go. You ended up having a lot of fun, and Mina captured this photo when you happened to look back at her with the biggest smile on your face. When did she give that to him?

“She gave it to me graduation day,” Katsuki stated, as if he was reading your mind. “It’s my favorite photo on this wall.”

“Of course it is,” you smirked. “Who wouldn’t love a photo of me on their wall?”

“That’s it.”

Suddenly, Katsuki charged you and threw you over his shoulder. Laughing like a maniac, you hit his back until he was laughing with you. After a couple minutes of this, he put you down and hugged you. He really did wonders through his actions. Who needed words when Katsuki’s hugs were the best in the world.

“We need to go to bed,” he said into your hair.

“I know,” you yawned.

He picked you up, much more gently, and led you to his room. He plopped you down on the bed and got under the covers. Quickly, you scrambled in next to him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you. His warmth caused your heart rate to quickly slow and your eyelids to flutter shut. Before you completely fell asleep, you heard the one sentence that made you remember that this birthday was not a dream.

“I love you, (y/n).”

#bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #bnha scenarios #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha #mha imagines #mha fic #mha scenarios #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha bakugo katsuki #mha headcanons #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo headcanons #x reader #mha

[bokutosworld]

someday | kageyama tobio

a kageyama x f! reader one shot loosely inspired by iu’s ending scene.

wc: 2.8 words of heartbreak, regrets, and moving on. 

summary: kageyama returns home for a reunion he never asked for and gets the closure he has been hoping for. this takes place post-timeskip and has slight manga spoilers.

--

it took five snoozes on his phone alarm before kageyama turned on his back, opening his eyes to stare at his apartment ceiling. he came home late last night and the jet lag was certainly taking its toll on him. it was currently 10:01 am, and in two hours, he would be meeting up with his high school friends. while he wants nothing more than to stay in his bed for the whole day, hinata threatened him that he would spill all his dirty secrets if he didn't show up for the mini reunion. as if i am hiding anything, kageyema thought. he was going to give his orange headed friend a good smack when he sees him later.

at 11:30 am, kageyama was already making his way to their meet up spot. hinata, yachi, yamaguchi and tsukishima all agreed to gather at a subway station which was a 15-minute walk from his current apartment. the route to the station was more picturesque than ever, with the cherry blossoms in full bloom and the pink petals decorating the street like a red carpet. it didn't hit him until that moment that it was currently spring in japan, his favorite season. he admires the view and suddenly he feels as if he's being pulled back to seven years before. when he was a first year on his way to karasuno and saw you, glowing and smiling happily, under the beautiful sakura tree. he wishes now that someone could have warned him that meeting you was a mistake. spring was his favorite season, but for some reason, it's been tainted with memories he wishes he could erase.

by the time he arrives at the station, he saw that everyone was waiting for him. hinata saw him, looking almost frustrated, 'kageyama, you dumbass! you are late!' the other three simultaneously turned their heads to see him sprinting towards them. when he reached them, he crouched and was desperately trying to catch his breath. hinata was still shouting at him, while tsukishima and yamaguchi was laughing at the duo. yachi was watching over them, nostalgia hitting her faster then she wanted that she failed to stop the words coming out, 'you guys never changed huh.'

it's been three years since kageyama saw this crazy bunch. the last time being the one right before he flew to italy where he was joining a team. they all saw him off at the airport, giving him their best wishes and hopes for his success. it even surprised him that hinata, who would usually tease and give him a playful remark, teared up as he left for the departure gates. it was everything he could have asked for a goodbye, but deep down, he wished that someone else was there to see him off too, for one last time.

the four friends were now settled in a yakiniku restaurant. as always, food was the first in their agenda for the day. while waiting, they comfortably launched into a conversation, catching up on each other's lives and plans for the future. at one instance, kageyama teased tsukishima for pursuing professional volleyball despite lacking the interest in it back in high school. the blonde boy just laughed and took a sip of his drink before surprising everyone at the table, 'well, at least i had the guts to do what i wanted to do. unlike others here who knew what they wanted and already had it but chose to let it go.' to make his point, tsukishima sent the setter a smirk. 

an awkward silence enveloped the table. their food arrived and while the kind waitress was setting the different dishes down, the four people were dreading where the conversation will go after what tsukishima said. when the lady left, giving them one bow, kageyama spoke up, 'how is she?' everyone blinked, not knowing how to approach the topic. he repeated himself, while taking his chopsticks and getting a piece of the meat, 'y/n. how has she been doing?' he looked over at yachi, expecting her to have some kind of answer. he remembers how she was best friends with you. yachi smiled, 'she's great! the last time i heard from her, she was visiting her relatives in osaka. i haven't checked up on her this week, i sent her a message though.' she paused, gauging kageyama's expression. he was always difficult to read, yachi knew this from you. she continued, 'i told her about you visiting. she hasn't replied to me.' the conversation shifted to another topic when hinata, worried at his friend, told a story about his time in brazil.

unknown to his friends, kageyama has zoned out of the chat, his mind drifting back to the last moment that he shared with you. he remembers it vividly as if it happened yesterday. it was graduation day and you pulled him to the gardens to talk as soon as the ceremony ended. he had an inkling of what you were about to say, and he was terrified.

he recalls how you shyly looked at him during that time. the you back then was so different from your usual confident and playful self. he's been so used to you going up to him, initiating a conversation and letting you take the lead.

he's always let himself get carried away with your stories, your antics, and even your subtle advances. time seemed to stretch out as you debated whether to go through with your speech, so kageyama spoke up, 'it's finally over. we've graduated.' after a long while, you looked at him and his gaze looked so soft, so focused on you in that moment that you thought there was no other people in the world but the two of you. smiling, you replied, 'yeah, we did it.' shaking off your nerves, you let out a sigh and continued to speak, 'who would have thought that the kageyama, who's so committed only to volleyball, devoted all his time and effort to the sport, could actually get passing grades and make it through high school?'

he shook his head at your taunting statement, reaching out a hand to ruffle your hair. annoyed, you made a move to swat at his hand, but he got it first and intertwined your fingers, 'if it weren't for you, i wouldn't have made it.' he was telling the truth. when he saw you under the sakura tree that time, he wouldn't have imagined that you two would be classmates. he never thought you would be a fixture in his high school life. in first year, he saw you as someone he can rely on to help him with his studies and make sure he never gets a grade below 70 so he could keep his spot in the volleyball team. come second year, he was surprised to see you helping yachi in the gym. as it turns out, you were the new club manager that yachi was telling the team about. since then, his relationship with you evolved.

doubts and questions about your friendship started bothering kageyama on his third year. as focused as he was with practices and preparations for volleyball after high school, he often found himself yearning for your presence - whether it was on or off the court. speculations about your relationship, about him and you being a couple, began circulating around school. the rumors didn't help the emotions that was building inside kageyama, forcing him to look at you as more than a friend but as a lover. as much as he wanted you, kageyama has already set his mind. he felt sick, dizzy, whenever he thought of the dream that he'd carried since he was a child. it was a future without you.

so he doesn't know what to do or what to say when you finally gathered your courage and confessed to him. 'i love you, tobio.' he slowly let go of your hand. your palm felt empty, and you wished you could ignore the warning sign, but you persisted. 'us being friends for the past three years was not a coincidence. us being in the same place three years ago, under that sakura tree, was not fate. i believe that everyone is where they are because of the choices they have made.' you pause, giving him time to absorb what was happening. 'that day, i deliberately took a different route from home to catch the cherry blossoms in full bloom. i knew that street would be lined with pretty sakura trees. i wasn't expecting that i would see someone far more beautiful than the view.' he knows you were talking about him. and he wouldn't say it, but that day, he also took detour to see the beauty of spring. 'my mom always said that life is full of choices. and every day since that spring, my choices have led me to you.'

when you didn't speak for minutes, kageyama took it as his cue to talk. there were so many questions swimming in his mind but all he could ask was, 'why me?' you grinned, 'you don't really need an explanation to know that you are in love. you feel it. and what you make me feel is indescribable. you make me giddy, happy, excited, and proud,' you take a step forward and grab both of his hands. 'and there's nothing i want more in life than to be by your side, supporting you and seeing you achieve your dreams.'

he knows you mean no harm, and he would be lying if he said that he didn't feel moved by what you said. deep down, kageyama feels the same way and he wants to let you know. heck, he would have asked you to be his girlfriend if he didn't feel so confused. he was a simpleminded person and he thought, in all honesty, that he couldn't be a good boyfriend and give you all his time and affection if he was continuing volleyball after high school. so although he reciprocates your feelings, he thought it would be better to keep his love hidden and reject you now than disappoint you in the future. he really thought he was doing the both of you a favor.

'i'm sorry.' as soon as he said those words, your world felt like it was crumbling and you could feel your heart shattering, but he continued, 'you are too good for me.' is that even a compliment, you thought. 'your friendship means so much to me but you and i know having something more will not work.' you hadn't realized you were tearing up. you pulled away your hands, and started wiping at your cheeks. this was it for you two and the ending scene was becoming too much for kageyama. he wanted to hug you and take it all back, but then he heard you say through bated breaths, 'did i read the signs wrong? were my choices a mistake?'

'no, you didn't,' kageyama is looking at you now, almost pleading for you to forgive him. to forget him. 'but i've already decided my future long ago before you went into the picture.' nodding, you sigh, 'so there's no space for me in your future?' kageyama couldn't say anything but the words i am sorry.

it took a while before you calmed down, letting the rejection sit with you. kageyama still recalls the words you said to him before you walked away, 'i know i wish a lot of things, but right now, what i'm wishing for the most is that you don't forget me.'

the hurt expression on your face and the sting when you said those words still affect kageyama to this day. like a curse that was placed upon him since graduation, kageyama has indeed not forgotten you. the flashback that came and overwhelmed him ended when yamaguchi asked kageyama about his vacation plans in japan.

after eating, the group decided to stroll around the mall. each one had things to buy and tsukishima suggested that they went on their separate ways to run their errands and meet right after in the ground floor. kageyama had no other things to do, he could already buy souvenirs but the boy figured he was staying longer than usual and he could get them later in the airport.

deciding to take it easy and relax, he went inside a coffee shop. he didn't notice how he caught the attention of a particular girl who was sitting in the corner. after he placed his order, he sat himself in the available table in the center of the cafe. kageyama felt as if he was being watched, but he shrugged it off, thinking it was one of his fans. minutes passed and a barista gave him his order and soon after getting his drink, someone took the seat in front of him. he looked up, with furrowed eyes, and he swears he felt his heart skip a beat.

after all these years, you still had that effect on him. you excitedly beamed at him, 'so you still drink cafe latte. you haven't changed a bit.' he couldn't believe what he was seeing, he almost spat out his latte, 'i heard you were in osaka?' you laughed and went on to tell him how you returned home earlier than expected because of work-related issues. he didn't need to ask as you caught him up to your life, sharing bits and pieces of what you have been up to since graduation. you seemed happy, being able to do what you've always dreamed of as a manager for a well-known clothing brand. kageyama wishes he has been there to see you rise and be successful, but that would be asking for too much, especially after what he did to you.

sensing that he was feeling uncomfortable, you asked with the kindest tone he's ever heard, 'are you happy, kageyama?' he was speechless at your choice of words, but he knew there was no malice behind them.

'i've missed you.' he wants to say more. to say that letting you go was his biggest regret in life. choosing volleyball over you was mistake that he had realized when one night, after a terrible game, all he wanted was your presence to comfort him. there were moments when he felt so lost that he wanted to pick up his phone and call you. but this was a choice he made and he had to live with it.

'i know, i missed you too, kageyama. it's been way too long.' there were so many words begging to be said but left hanging between the two of you. but the look you held in your eyes was enough for kageyama to know that you have moved on. you glanced at the windows behind him and he noticed how your eyes lit up. he followed your line of sight, and he saw who he can only assume was your lover. you waved at him and before you can say goodbye to kageyama, he beat you to it, 'for what it's worth, i didn't forget you. not once.' you know he was talking about your last request to him and your heart warmed. 'thank you, tobio. i'll see you around.' finally, you turned around and exited the cafe to be welcomed into the arms of your boyfriend.

kageyama saw the two of you walking away, slowly fading from his line of sight. it was weird, he thought he should be feeling sad and broken as he has spent the past years after high school yearning for you from afar. he had selfishly hoped that you would be waiting for him. that when he returned, you would be welcoming him with open arms. but that's not how life works. he was thankful that time has been good to you and gave you the happiness you deserves.

just as he was letting the surprise reunion sink in, hinata came barging in the cafe and took a seat. he peered at kageyama, almost worried, 'you're creepy. why do you have this weird look on your face?' he sneered at hinata and threw a tissue at him. 'what took you so long? you didn't even buy anything.' at that, hinata goes on to complain about his shopping experience.

while he was listening his intently at his old friend, kageyama thinks back to you. the acceptance comes in slow but he was sure. he used to wish for you, but now, he hopes he would also find his own happiness.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x you #hq x you #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu kageyama tobio #kageyama fluff #kageyama angst #haikyuu fics #hq imagines #haikyuucreations #she tried to write angst lmao #anyway iu's ending scene always wrecks me

[vampiresuns]

Interlude 1: Do Not Stand Over My Grave And Weep, Part 1

☽ PART 1: CARALUNA ☽

2.3k words. In which Milenko mourns Anatole, and a ghost that is not really a ghost runs into him in the Palace’s gardens.

CW: Death and discussions of it, allusions of drowning (no one actually drowns nor is in real danger of it).Feelings of depression, feelings of abandonment and displacement/diaspora. Me, once again, going berserk about non Christian theology.

The title comes from Caraluna by Bacilos. You can find the translation of the lyrics online, but I don’t like those.So if you’re feeling bold enough, you can ask me to translate if you don’t speak Spanish.

What to catch up with this series? You can do that here.

That Milenko’s magic worked beyond his full control didn’t mean he didn’t understand how it worked. He did.

First of all, not because he was clairvoyant it meant his magic was prophetic. He knew God had not made him a prophet — God really, really hadn’t. This was something he could do, that was all. Some people could cook, some people had language magic, some people were alchemists, some people called magic the science they could not explain yet. All Milenko had here was an Intuition and Imagination he could tap into like other people could not.

His granparent, Ilnya Radošević, could do it, his mother, Violeta, and uncle Atanasie could do it, he could do it. The only difference was his was channelled with water. It was, at best, a way to anticipate some things. It did not change the future, it did not gave him for control. The world spoke to him through the water, just like it spoke to everyone else through daily occurrences. The world spoke to him through water, like it would to anyone who learnt how to pay attention. 

Secondly, even then, not everything he saw was something that would happen. Sometimes the water just showed him things. Things that weren’t real but bloomed into his eyes, like a living canvas of his imagination. Water allowed him to focus, water sometimes allowed him to transport himself to a world where words were at arm’s reach. He didn’t control when the water would call him, but he could induce it, sometimes. He had learnt how to write this way. 

If he was asked to theorise about it, he would say that when it came to his imagination, the water absorbed it. It created a bubble where he could interact with it more vividly, seeing not water, but what his mind had conjured to later put into paper. The water never hurt him physically, he didn’t need to breathe, or worry about currents — because if he was in danger, the water and his magic would take him to his gate, and from there back to safety. All he needed to do was to see and to trust. 

That took him to his third and last point: Whether he liked it or not, water was tied with his subconscious. Sometimes water wouldn’t show him events to come, things he had made up, or keys to understand things. Sometimes the water would just show him what was locked into his mind and he would otherwise be unable to reach.

Usually, Milenko found a way to pour that into something else, like his poetry. A way to explore what he could only see in the water but had no way to verbalise without it. Moments and feelings his brain or soul kept from him, tucked away until they were released into water like little vessels which grew, and grew, and grew once submerged. 

It was a dangerous thing for a man who was mourning. 

He would never forget the day he knew Anatole was dead, the water delivering the news to him. It was the only time he had struggled to come up to the surface, a sob catching in his throat before his magic could guide him back it. Ursula, his familiar, had had to drag him by the neck of the shirt, to the sight of his terrified mothers and his uncle, because of course Violeta and Atanasie just knew that Milenko was in danger.

When he managed to speak again, all he could repeat was “He is dead, he is dead,” as he cried, clinging to his mothers like he did when he was a child.

He had then locked himself in Anatole’s morning room, his head against the closed case of his cousin’s piano. That had been where Amparo found him, in late hours of the evening. 

It was a nightmare. Their families were all living together in the Palazzo during the plague, even if in separate wings with their own disinfecting stations for when they came from the outside. They had decided it was better to stick together, and because the Radošević-Cassano thought of their friends as the family you chose, they had invited those of them they knew they could house. Milenko’s room-mate Octavia and their sibling Sabine, a young herpetologist who had begun to work as a Court magician and was strangely fond of Anatole, as Anatole was of them. They had also extended that to Leonore Kaur and Medea Pryce. Aside from Asra, they had to be Anatole’s closest friends. 

How do you tell someone their friend died? Milenko wasn’t as close to them as Anatole was but he was close enough to know what he meant to them, and them to him. They were some of the few people who knew what had really transpired between him and Decimo Lemione, Leonore was with Milenko when the water told him Anatole was in danger, that night they had found Anatole threatening Decimo to never touch him again, that night he had told everyone the truth. They already knew, of course, Leonore and Medea.

In that moment Milenko realised how much he owed them for his cousin’s healing, and now, someone had to tell them Anatole had died. That was only the beginning. The house was a stack of private griefs. It was mistaken to say some were more justified or greater than others, they were all different. You do not mourn a son in the way you mourn a friend, because you don’t love them the same anyway, even if it’s all love. 

However people thought it was lesser. Not Vlad and Louisa, of course, but people, in general. What did they they know? How could they know? How could they know the grief that came with losing the one person Milenko thought would ever understand him, even when Anatole didn’t really understand him?

Who else if not his cousin to understand what it was like to inherit wars you did not fight, about people who still hated you? Who else would understand feeling your blood boil up from the Earth like a Geyser, coming to you from mismatched corners of the world? Who else would understand that feeling of existing in a liminal space? 

Who else would understand Milenko when he asked how did one go back to a place one wasn’t born in, when the place follows you anyway? How do you go back to places which should’ve been home but turned into living hazards for people like you simply because you exist? Or raise your voice? How do you go back when a foreign city that’s not really foreign, since it’s seen you grow and has housed you safely? But still is a City that’ll never be all that you are?

Perhaps this was why the two of them ended up in Vesuvia, aside from Milenko being born there. How else do you connect ends which no one could foresee meeting if not through a zigzag City where the water ran like carrying new life into dissonant architecture? 

When Anatole, his wonderful cousin, who had put himself between the world and Milenko so many times when the world decided to be unkind to him, proclaiming he was not the great grandchild of a partisan, and the son of his mother, for him to have to stand through the world unheard. It was an echo of Milenko’s own heritage: Anatole saying those words and living by them, was Milenko saying he was not the great grandson of a partisan for him not to have earned the right to be joyful. Joy was his birth given right, and he would live by that. By joy and by love.

But how could you be joyful again when grief had made itself a place in your heart? An even bigger place at that. They said the Radošević were angry because they were full of grief, satellites amid a sea of people. Milenko had never understood that — righteous anger he did, but grief which turned to anger was not something he understood. Until Anatole died.

He still remembers one day when Anatole was 10, Milenko himself a little older, and they were playing at a park in Vesuvia. Some playground bullies had decided to pick on him, with his daydreamy quality and oddities pouring out of his mouth. Anatole had stepped between them without hesitation, despite being younger, despite being at the very least, a head shorter than all of them. 

Milenko had asked him about that years later. Anatole’s answer? “I guess it was my way of comprehending then, that you had been through enough violence in your life for you to have to stand that. No offence, Merlenko, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t entirely right either — Milenko might have not had a violent bone in his body, but he wanted to forget he didn’t when Decimo Lemione came through his mind. That was an exception, not the rule. Even if Count Lucio has steadily won a place beside that son of a bitch. 

After Anatole died, he had spent two days simmering in his own grief before he decided to take a bath. The water would wash his sorrows away so he could remember Anatole’s life had been a blessing, so his memory would be one too.

The water had other plans. Milenko didn’t notice he was zoning out with the sound of running water until it was too late. Given it was only a bathtub and not open water, Ursula did not make any fuss about it. When Milenko, zoned out to the rest of the world, walked into the bathtub with clothes, submerging himself in it, the water showed him Anatole. His cousin was everywhere. He came out of the water being unable to breathe. 

Then it happened again, and again, and again: every time Milenko zoned out looking at water, or walked into it, he’d see his cousin. Sometimes not at first, but he’d always show up. It had been the same for four years — four years where people continued to die, where he knew he should eventually move on, let go, seek someone to talk about it, but he couldn’t. Milenko already felt like all clocks should stop, like no dog should bark or wag its tail, that the world should stop moving so his grief might stop too. 

He knew that was not possible. He knew that would not be honouring Anatole’s memory, so every day he tried: he tried his best to snap out of it and live, but how was he supposed to live and write and create when the water that had previously channelled his creative energy, showed him his dead cousin all the time? 

Now he had seen him. Alive and breathing and made of flesh. It really had been his cousin standing by the fountain and talking to someone over it. He went over it in his head until he couldn’t think any more. There were no traces of his magic, he knew that. He knew how it felt to be drawn to the water, to feel one of messages coming and he felt none of that: one moment he was marvelling at the night he walked through, a gift of fragrant breeze, and the next, he was seeing an apparition. 

He got home before Octavia and when she arrived at their shared flat, she found him drinking. Milenko gave her a tired, sad look as she looked hesitant standing across the kitchen island he was sitting at. She leant forward, looking with the tenderness of friendship into his troubled brown eyes.

Milenko looked at his glass —he saw it swirl, even if for anyone else, the glass did not do anything. He put it away, and ran his hands through his curls. “You want to tell me something… where’s Sabine?”

Her hesitance resurfaced. “Talking to Medea, with Leonore… I do want to tell you something, but—” she said, elongating the ‘u’, “you’re drinking alone. I’ve only ever seen you drink during celebrations, and you don’t look like you’re celebrating anything.”

Milenko paused for a long time, offering the rest of his drink in the meantime to Octavia. She was right. Milenko drank in moderation. He had always believed life was made to be enjoyed, and wine was a way to gather friends around. Even then, he never allowed himself to get drunk, and he wasn’t, but he was still drinking for no reason. Well, sort of. 

“If I told you I saw someone I thought was dead, would you think I was crazy?”

Octavia took his hand. “No more than I already think you are, and that’s complimentary... is it the water again?”

She sounded like she knew something. “It wasn’t the water. I– Octavia, I saw him, as alive as I remember him, not having any clue of who I was.” 

With the confession, a dam broke. Milenko began crying inconsolably as Octavia held him, rubbing his back as he spoke, tripping over his words about seeing Anatole again, lamenting on how this was not how it was supposed to be. The water was not supposed to turn against him, the water was supposed to keep him safe. 

“It’s been four years. Four awful years, I should be over it—”

“No,” Octavia interrupted him, “you’ve carried forward to the best of your capacity, bearing with something most people do not have to deal with. We don’t treat Amparo poorly when she has bad days because there’s too many dead tethering to her, do we, Milan?”

He sniffled. “No.”

“Milenko— I need you to listen to me: I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but you’re not crazy. You aren’t seeing things. Milenko, your cousin is alive.”

For the first time in four years, the distant sound of the canals in the City brought Milenko answers instead of torments, even if he had already half figured it out.

“I know how.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. 

“Asra.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #milenko #octavia rei #anatole's apprentice rewrites

[straightouttaneptune]

You’ll come with me, won’t you?

Pairing: Harley Quinn x Reader

Warning: It’s different. Joker is a bitch. Reader becomes kind of morally weird as the fic progresses. People die. 

Summary: Y/N is a baby psychiatrist, who just started out. Suddenly, she is trusted with the most feared case of all. Harleen Quinzel. Y/N thinks it’ll be good for her career, or will it?

A/N: I couldn’t find a good ending to this for the longest time, I’m so glad I did. Also, this is for my 500 followers fic queue :) Thank you for the love, darlings✨

—————————————————————

“Harleen Quinzel?”

That was a name you’d heard before. That was a name everyone’s heard before, at least once in their lives. But it was not the name that had surprised you, but it was the fact that her name was right there on top of your long patient list.

“Yeah, congrats Y/N. She’s pretty famous around here. Straighten her out and you’ll probably be in the big city in less than a year.” Your colleague, Megan peered into your books over your shoulders and patted your back affectionately.

You were one of the new psychiatrists in the business, and you had been dealing with criminal minors, the less mental mental patients and all the clients that newbies would usually handle. Being fresh out of university after holing up in the labs and libraries, you needed to gain some experience first before taking on the really hard cases.

Or... that’s what you were told.

“C’mon, Meg, you gotta know more than that. Why would they pass her case to me? She’s a rank SS psycho.” You pushed, looking up at her through your lashes in a slightly accusatory manner.

She gave you a look that asked; “Do you really want to know?” And you nodded.

“Well, I heard the other docs, the guys who were like 10, 20, hell, 30 years into the business, they all got their brains scrambled by... this girlie.” Her index finger landed on the profile photo of Harley Quinn, an apologetic look in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes, not necessarily at Megan, but at whoever it was that tried to deal this card to you. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s cruel, but you can always turn it down, y’know?” Megan set her books aside, her left arm cradling your slumped shoulders.

“Yeah... But I might not.”

Megan’s dropped gaze snapped back up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a good way to kick-start my career, I guess.”

\|/

“Hello, new doc.” The moment you entered the room, you regretted making this decision immediately. Harley Quinn sat in a big contraption-looking chair, her hands and feet shackled onto the armrests and legs of the seat. Her platinum blonde hair was untied and unkempt, its bottoms still dyed red and blue, although it seemed to have faded over time.

The only thing dividing the space between you and Harley was a metallic table bolted on the floor, wide enough so even if Harley broke off her arm shackles and reached for you, she wouldn’t be able to touch you. You swallowed your nerves and entered the room with a confident stride, smiling sweetly at the guards as they closed the door with eyes of concern.

“Hello, Miss Quinzel.” You thanked heavens that your words came out right, especially in front of a woman who could sniff out people’s fears from thousands of miles away.

“You’re the first girl I’ve had.” She mused, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But the light in her eyes has lost its original color, you thought. She looked much more lively in photos taken way back then. When she was just a psychiatrist.

“Hm. I guessed that it would be nice to have some heart to heart, female to female.” You reassured your anxious self calmly in your head, repeating the words ‘you got this, Y/N.’

“Do you know why I’m here, and not... Damien? Who usually comes in for your check-ups?” Stowing your clipboard away on your lap, you continued.

“Yeah. Before him was another guy, then a grandpa and just... a buncha stupid-lookin’ guys. But I didn’t like them.” She replied as if it was the most simple thing in the world. The files back in the company would argue differently. Every single guy, either was tormented by her psychotic attacks or totally gone insane from her mental tricks.

“Are you going to do the same thing to me?” You asked, not really knowing what answer to expect. Your eyes remained soft, a small smile gracing your lips as you waited for her answer.

“No. I like ya.” She answered quickly, shrugging and adverting her gaze away to look down at her shackles. “Can I sit down like you?” She shook her wrist lightly, the chains rattling against the armrest.

“Maybe next time, Miss Quinzel.”

“There’s a next time? Yeah!”

You internally smiled to yourself, what a successful human being she would’ve been if not for a man like Joker to ruin her life. Right then, you vowed to whatever higher power was out there, that you’d get Harley Quinn to break free from his spell.

The people in your office were surprised, to say the least, that you were able to keep up your visits to the prison, and that an amateur therapist like you could get the queen of Gotham in a tight little leash. You didn’t like to think about it like that, but rather that she trusts you better than any of the others.

The weekly visits became 2 days a week, and from weeks of good behavior, Harley was allowed to be without handcuffs during her sessions now. You weren’t afraid she’d leap up and strangle you, because of some sort of connection the two of you formed after all those times spent together.

“Hey doc, why can’t you visit me more ‘round here?” Harley pouted, interrupting the current therapy session with an abrupt comment.

You looked up from your clipboard, dumbfounded. Why would she want to have you around more?

“Harley, I’m just your therapist.” You tapped the end of your pencil against the material of the clipboard, locking eyes with the woman. Anyone could see that she was starting to look better, particularly her eyes. They looked more human, compared to the hollow shell they used to be.

“I know, Y/N. But I’ve been doin’ some thinkin. It’s pretty fuckin clear that Mister J isn’t coming for me, and the suicide squad was probably just a one-time thing. And... You’re all I have.” She admitted, slowly sliding down from her pipe chair and laying down on the concrete floor.

The wooden chair you sat on scraped against the hard floor as you pushed it back. Standing up from your seat, you walked over to her in 3 steps. You kneeled down beside her, her skin just inches away from you. “Do you want a hug?” You questioned quietly, your voice softer and more inviting than usual. Harley felt this too, sitting up in a millisecond just as the offer left your lips.

“Yeah.” She almost crawled over to you, her arms wrapping around your neck desperately. That would’ve been terrifying if it was out of context, but she actually wasn’t trying to kill you. She genuinely just wanted a warm embrace.

You felt her slender torso tighten and loosen as if she was trying to repress a sob. Hand carefully sliding over her back, you whispered; “Let it out.”

And she did.

\|/

Time flew by as you continued to work on her case, and you fell into the worst situation a psychiatrist could possibly be in while working. You grew emotionally invested in your client. As a friend, who cared for her well being and happiness. 

Maybe... even more.

You still didn’t know if you could trust her though, you managed to keep a cool head and your mind was rational, but that only confirmed the fact that Harley wasn’t playing any tricks on you. That you were genuinely becoming attached to the beautiful prisoner.

Harley, on the other hand, did intend on ruining you at first. Make them run back to where they came from crying, so no one would disturb her again while she waited for her puddin.

But it was all starting to feel different with you.

“Hey, doc?” Harley called out from inside her electric cage. She was being a little bit mischievous that day, and she pulled an armed guard against the buzzing bars when he wasn’t looking. He probably died, she guessed.

But she didn’t like that she couldn’t be near you during your sessions. So a man died, big deal!

“Can you let me out?” She pleaded in the sweetest voice she could muster, calling out to you who was currently propped up on the usual desk, writing down some notes on your clipboard.

“No, Harley. I don’t have the keys to your cell.” You replied without looking up, but you could imagine the cute pout that Harley had when you denied her of something.

“But would you open it if you did?” You looked up at that question, seeing her smiling from ear to ear now, anticipation glowing in her eyes.

“Maybe. I know you won’t hurt me.” You smiled back at her, watching her facial expression carefully. How would she react if you showed some warm friendliness towards her? Could she possibly return to the life she used to have?

“Maybe I will, doc. You don’t know what goes on in here.” Harley leaped up to her cloth swing she’d made for herself, her now almost completely platinum hair draping down her back.

“I hope you won’t hurt me, then.”

You couldn’t forget that split second where Harley’s eyes looked more humane than it ever has been for many, many years.

\|/

“Warning. Warning. Escape Attempt in Sector 9H11.”

The sound of the speaker and the blasting alarm merged together in a chorus of chaos, guards and officers running around to stop whoever the escapee was.

It was 9:30AM and you were just about to enter the asylum for your shift, when this sudden noise almost blasted your ears off. Before you could process what was happening, a bomb went off right next to you, making you scream and clutch your head as you ducked.

The debris fell everywhere along with broken pieces of concrete, and you just stayed there trying to collect your thoughts. Right when a random hand grabbed you by your wrist. 

“Hi, doc. I was lookin’ for ya. You’ll come with me, won’t you?” Harley pulled you to the side, hiding the two of you behind a few bushes. Her eyes were electric making you realize that the true “Harleen Quinzel” you’ve been trying to look for is right in front of you now.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” You didn’t hesitate to take her outreached hand. Your mind had already been made up since the first time you laid your eyes on her. 

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x y/n #harley quinn x you #dceu #dc #suicide squad #birds of prey #harley quinzel #harley quinn fic #harley quinn imagine

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA FIC PROMPTS

A collection of all of the fic ideas from that ask game, as of now. I’ll throw in new ones if i get any and when I remember. Feel free to use any of them, I’d love a link if you did!

with hands to the sky, I beg (what will save us?)

Izuku is a god who asks to be reborn as a human to try and help. He is warned he can’t return to being a god and will join the mortal realm, ever reincarnated. He agrees.

Izuku is a child with faint memories of a life he never lived, who knows too much about the world but not enough about the people around him. He’s not listed as having a quirk but he’s never gotten sick, never been hurt. He scares the other children and the adults don’t like his precocious nature. Inko loves her little miracle.

 My Soul is Like a Supernova

Things happen around Izuku. Always have. Everything from earthquakes and villain attacks to miraculous healing and lottery wins. He’s always attracted big events like this - as if even the universe can see how important he is and it warps itself around him.

He sees this as perfectly normal. 1A is begining to notice a stressful pattern.

This one regret of mine

Character study of Inko and how she deeply regrets so many things she’s done in her life, from her husband, to giving up on her carrier, to telling Izuku he couldn’t be a hero and then letting him keep going to UA.

But no matter what she’d never regret her son.

Of souls and lost causes

A good ol’ Izuku sees dead people AU, focused more on his younger years when he’d wander around the city helping as many spirits as he could, only to return home at the end of the day exhausted and dirty to an increasingly worried mother who believed the doctor when he said seeing ghosts as a quirk would be impossible.

my life.your choice

Underground heroics AU (i dont think ive ever posted that au huh): Izuku is the well-known son of japan’s immortal emperor, All for One. Born quirkless, he’s been emotionally abused but violently protected his whole life by his father, his mother killed before his eyes for trying to take him away. He’s never been able to make a choice for himself save for his bodyguard - his childhood friend, Bakugo Katsuki.

Katsuki made a pledge to protect him when they were in kindergarten and he’ll be damned if he breaks it now. And if it takes the two of them joining the resistance, meeting a vigilante by the name of All Might thought long dead and Izuku receiving a near-mythical quirk? Well, that just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?

I forgot that you existed

Izuku gets hit with a quirk that not only makes people forget him, it prevents them from seeing him as well - all but erasing him from reality for everyone he knows. He can still interact with things but all it manages to do is just UA shut down under fear of villain infiltration. They find Izuku 18 hours later when the quirk wears off - a motion tracking gun trained on his forehead.

certain uncertainties

No one can predict the quirks trapped in One for All or when they’ll show up. Anthology fic of Izuku discovering each of them, some being rather helpful, and at least one piece of merch being sent into a low orbit.

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance

Set in the same universe I wrote console reset in; during the two heroes movie: they never defeat Nine and he slaughters the whole island and his class, leaving Izuku till last. He comes back at the start of their first day on the island and doggedly makes friends with every islander he can because while it hurt seeming them die, it hurt even more knowing he’d never even learnt most of their names.

They win this time the first time they meet him, even if it’s a marathon fight of 8 hours with him and Bakugo doggedly wearing him down. No one dies. Izuku thinks it’s worth dying as many times as he has to to keep the people he loves smiling.

The immortality of the heroic spirit

One of the quirks in One for All is determination: if you have something you desperately want to do, you can’t die - no matter how much blood you lose or home many pieces your body is crushed into - you’ll just heal back to where you were before you died. All Might and Aizawa find this out to horrifying effect during a brutal villain fight they are stuck watching on the news with the rest of a terrified UA.

In hindsight this makes a lot of sense to Izuku. Aizawa wants to scream. All Might has coughed up more blood than is probably healthy and all of 1A bruised hands from where they were clutching each other’s when it got too tense.

Shine on you invincible legacy

Izuku becomes a top 10 hero before hes even out of high school, hitting No.2 the second he graduates and taking No.1 from Hawks literally the next time the ranking is counted. 1A will not stop throwing him parties each time he moves up in the ranking, even if in 3rd year it was every other week. All Might comes to ever one of them.

Shake the Dirt from Your Shoes

Izuku will be a hero and no one will stop him - an AU a fair bit like the beginning of canon except Izuku fights back, remains unending optimistic and maybe engages in a light bit of technically legal vigilantism, accidentally befriending a vast array of heroes and a student or two.

To his horror, they recognise him out of costume as soon as he speaks to them, resulting in a very eventful first day at UA.

do you feel with a heart of steel

Original Sin AU, young Izuku finding feeling emotions difficult and not knowing why. He finds a dying animal on the way home and sits with it, patting it until it passes away. He doesn’t think he feels anything, but his cheeks feel wet.

all you want is milk and honey

Villains have been trying to use Izuku his entire life, much to his annoyance and confusion (I wonder who in his family might make him known to villains? hm). He’s gotten very good at being intimidating, even as a child.

When he gets kidnapped with Bakugo on a primary school field trip he decides to hell with it and breaks out all the stops. Turns out villains don’t tend to want a 10-year-old who can describe in great detail how they would hang you with your own intestines.

Bakugo decides that fuck Izuku being quirkless, he’s kind of amazing.

Even the stars

Izuku dies young and no one but the stars cry for him. They bring him back, but his body is cold and he has a nova burning where his heart should be. A four-year-old who has known death and walked among the stars is a terrifying thing. His skin has a shimmer to it, his eyes look like planets with no visible pupil, and he knows far too much.

The stars still speak to him, and they see everything.

bitter dreams and optimistic nightmares

Bakugo and Izuku grow up good friends, until Izuku is taken by villains age 9.

Bakugo’s determined to be a hero to save Izuku, even if it hurts to be at UA without him.

Izuku hates hurting people but he’s determined to make the most of his horrible situation by leaking information to heroes whenever he can. He’s given to All for One to serve as a lab hand to the doctor when All for One finds out this rag tag outpost of his had been hiding a valuable resource.

They meet at the USJ.

Mind Games for Two Shinsou and Izuku are both gen ed students in the same class, but with Shinsou stubbornly refusing to make friends and Izuku being the vice president they are almost strangers. UA has a no quirkless students policy and Shinsou has accidentally discovered that he student in his class with an analysis quirk, doesn’t, actually, have one. Izuku is aware Shinsou knows. They both want to get into the hero course but are under the impression there is only one spot.

It’s tense.

The Melody Stuck in My Soul

Izuku has an empathy/emotional control quirk that hears other’s emotions like music. He uses this both to read people, to defend himself, and, because hes Izuku, to ramp up his adrenaline/motivation/anger to kick ass. He and Bakugo are friends because baby Bakugo was lowkey impressed Izuku managed to weaponize his tears.

Advantage of the musical element: it gives him something concrete to latch on to and change, and it was very easy to work out which emotions were which. Also he has his own theme song, even if he’s the only one who can hear it.

Disadvantage: He cant turn it off. The stronger the emotion the ‘louder’ the music (it doesn’t cover up natural sounds because its not technically there, you get me?)

Error 404, childhood not found

A Hero’s Son AU, snapshot’s of Izuku’s childhood with No.1 Hero All for One as his abusive father.

Age 4 when his quirk never comes in and All for One abandons all pretences of loving him. Age 6 when he realises his son is intelligent and has a use as a lab assistant for the doctor. Age 8 when Bakugo first realises something is wrong. Age 9 when his father is almost killed by the No.1 villain All Might. Age 9 when he’s made to work in the labs with the doctor.

Age 14 when he meets All Might. Age 15 when he makes it into UA.

Darkness Growing (The Light Ever Smaller)

Villains take over Japan after the current arc, leaving all heroes and students that don’t switch sides on the run. 1A is instantly separated with a few of them  being killed, most of the living students with Aizawa and Izuku and Bakugo by themselves, both too stubborn to leave the other.

Aizawa is desperately trying to get to Izuku and Bakugo in an attempt to keep them safe, while the two of them are avoiding Aizawa to keep the rest of their class safe(er), all while avoiding the villains, turncoat heroes and police out to get them. Public support is spotty at best with anyone found ‘harboring a criminal’ given the same punishment as the hero.

Lost soul of last hope

The first wielder has been Izuku’s imaginary friend since he can remember. He’s not very imaginary.

Featuring Izuku with the world’s strangest older brother, Inko coming to the realisation her son can see a ghost, but only one ghost and no one will believe them, Izuku’s quirk being listed as Inko’s because the first wielder can help him fake it, and Izuku wondering why first looks so much like that picture of his father on his mother’s bedside table.

The kids the system failed

100% The 1A run aways au with 1A, Aizawa and Mic being runaways kids of various ages that band together to stay alive and maybe do a little vigilante work on the side.

Izuku has All for One and uses it like you’d expect a traumatised kid to - cautiously at first but when he gets the hang of it there are suddenly no more criminals with quirks in their area, and it looks suspiciously like Uraraka can fly.

Just a second to soon? For the Fic thing?

Aizawa struggles and gets knocked out just before Shigaraki lunges at Tsuyu. She and Izuku are left horribly injured by his quirk with massive facial scarring, and in Tsuyu’s case, the loss of an eye.

Daze

An illusion/fear quirk makes his teachers look like villains and convinces him he’s in danger. They try and stop him without hurting him but it’s difficult considering Izuku is convinced he’s protecting his friends, considering he can only see them broken and bloodied with villains he thought were locked away loaming over them.

Even as Aizawa cuts out his quirk Izuku still tries to shield his friends, snarling ferally.

Morning Glories and Forget-me-nots

A memory quirk of unknown duration hits Izuku, leaving him remembering none of his life. 1A starts to fall apart without one of their pillar’s.

hopeless but not broken

The Long Con au where Izuku asks All Might if he could be a hero without a quirk - he’s really asking if he can stop pretending to be a villain, if he’s worth anything without the quirks he’s been given, if he’s worth something as himself rather than the limited use he can provide. He doesn’t know how to say all of that, so he just asks if he could be a hero.

All Might says no. And Izuku basically decides right then that the only way he’ll ever be able to help people is by being a mole for the heroes like he’s been since he was 10 - that he isn’t worth anything because he’s quirkless and to be considered just as valuable as the people around him are he needs to give his life and more.

He shows up to the bar crying because of All Might and Shigaraki moves his murder plot forward a few months.

Sunflowers and Summer Gardens

All Might starts a garden on campus and 1A like to help. He uses it as a nice place to chill and as physical therapy. He likes to give the different classes bunches of flowers when they sprout.

For Dos and For Donts

Izuku runs into some of his old bullies when out with some of his friends. Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Shinsou and Asui intimidate the fuck out of them, and Izuku realises hes not scared of them any more. Then they get frozen yoghurt!

your mistakes, my unbecoming

Aizawa assigns a project on quirk related issues, Izuku ends up with quirkless discrimination, Aizawa assumes his discomfort is just him being upset he doesn’t get to talk about quirks. He doesn’t realise his mistake until he finds Izuku dissociating on the roof.

one and one into the vast

Original Sin AU, All for One and Izuku seeing the vestiges together. One for All sees his brother for the first time and Izuku learns a lot about the voice in his head.

All for One has a mini-crisis about his not son learning he’s a horrific villain, especially considering he has the power to cast his soul out at any time, killing him at will. Izuku doesn’t kill him. He admits its probably not right of him to let AfO remain considering the things he’s done, but All for One is a part of him now and it would be like killing a friend.

All for One quietly decides to hold off on the villainy until all of 1A is dead, for Izuku’s sake.

between the stars of our souls

Izuku and All Might are old gods who keep getting reborn into human forms with their memories regained when they turn 4. Normally finding each other takes a while, and their last reincarnation they never found each other, so this time he resolves to make himself as easy to find as possible, all while saving as many people as he can.

Izuku, aged 4, memories fresh in his head, makes it his mission to get into contact with the man he knows is his father/mentor’s reincarnation. All Might’s agency was not expecting a 4 year old to repeatedly try breaking in to their office, and they especially weren’t expecting him to be so good at it.

you really should have thought this through

Different (and ill-advised) attempts at special moves or team up combo moves. Featuring:

Izuku managing to break Kirishima’s nose.

Uraraka sending Bakugo so high he broke the sound barrier coming back down to earth.

Kaminari and Shouto managing to electrify ice.

Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugo levelling a whole suburb (at least it was condemned???)

I'll Break Anything You Give Me

Different times Izuku desperately tried to repair his relationship with Izuku over the years and the one time Bakugo fully grasps how much he fucked up and reaches out his hand to try to fix it for the first time. Probably includes a lot of screaming, Bakugo learning how to say sorry, a field trip and them having a conversation on Aldera’s roof.

Sinking

One for All kind of possesses Izuku during a quiet night at the dorms. One for All, made of 8 people, 7 of which are dead and had their last experiences in life be rather painful and violent, breaks down, Izuku alone not enough to drown them out. They lash out at anyone who tries to touch them, their quirks tearing Izuku’s body apart.

All Might’s vestige reaches out a hand to Izuku to keep his mind from being torn apart as 1A set about both trying to protect Izuku and get Aizawa who was off campus on patrol.

Feat. Bakugo and All Might being the only people with any idea about what’s going on and getting more and more stressed each second that passes. Iida, Uraraka and Todoroki being good heroes and even better friends. Blood King deciding he’s never watching 1A for Aizawa again, and Aizawa deciding he’s never leaving 1A alone ever again.

A Long Way From Home

Shirakumo wakes up in Kurogiri’s body in Tartarus with only shadowed memories of his time as a villain. He’s scared and alone and he just wants to see his friends again, even if he’s scared they hate him because at least that’s something he knows.

Too Far Gone

The other side AU, it comes out Izuku is a villain with (knockoff) All for One and he has a showdown with Mirio. He and Izuku trained together under All Might and Mirio tries to plead with him but Izuku has to basically tell him to go to hell to not ruin his placet as crown prince of the underworld.

Of course, he’s not only doing this to save people, he’s also doing it with All Might’s blessing - taking over from All Might himself serving as a villain after he killed All for One to prevent a power vacuum.

Doesn’t mean that his friends in 1A know that.

Snowy hills and sunlit peaks

Probably an AU about All Might being a mountain spirit with a little shrine that Izuku is the only one who visits - Izuku gets in trouble and All Might manifests himself, saves him, and tells everyone to keep their hands off his human son.

Wilting

Izuku gets sick and he tries to hide it because he’s scared its something serious but he just gets worse and worse. His friends are the ones who eventually step in and comfort him.

I’d probably write two endings with one being a bad end and the other a good end.

My wish came true without me realising 

Izuku wakes up one morning, comes downstairs and just starts crying. Everyone panics and he reassures them they are happy tears and that he's just glad to be here. They all call him sappy and give him a hug. Later in the day he and Bakugo chat and Izuku reveals he never even expected to live this long, let alone become a hero. Bakugo grumbles that he’s too stubborn to die, and not to get too cocky. Izuku promises he wont.

#38 of them damn #bnha prompts #mha prompts #prompt list #bnha #mha #bnha au #boku no hero #my hero academia #hero aca