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#okay heartbreaker
faerenjun · 1 month
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SMOOTHIE MV TEASER IMAGE // RENJUN
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i love the…. almost horror aspects of this album. all the references to ghosts and death…. and sonically, the unexpected shrieking in WAOLOM and the banging and screaming during “old habits die screaming” and even the way the tension subtly builds across the sixteen tracks and by the end you’re so stressed and shaken it’s like! losing your sense of self and feeling like you’ve become a monster is horror. and i’m sooooo glad she leaned into it
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timetodiverge · 2 months
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How to break a million hearts in under 10 seconds
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stellaretic · 3 months
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blindbisexualgoose · 18 days
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You guys don’t understand…. Amerie never got the letter
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p00sy-d3stro7er · 3 months
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Since yall ATE UP the last one
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yamisnuffles · 9 months
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Sick and twisted, really, that season 2 opens with Aziraphale telling Crowley that the creation he loves won't last and then ending with him telling him nothing lasts when he bares his heart again.
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noname-404s-blog · 9 months
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uncanny-tranny · 10 months
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Your fears that you don't have a body that will transition "well" are, sure, understandable, but there isn't truly such thing as a body that's unworthy of transition. Perhaps your changing body won't suit everybody's taste, but would you rather live for yourself or for the whims of random people who don't care about your happiness as long as they're attracted to what they see?
Transition is for anybody who wants it. It's okay to be fearful. It's okay to be uncertain. But it isn't the end of the world. You are in control, and if you choose to transition to any capacity, it should be at your behest. You and your body are worthy of transition. I hope you are able to seize transition and do what you truly want for yourself.
#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgbtq#ftm#mtf#nonbinary#have been seeing a small resurgence in some trans spaces that there is such thing as an 'untransitional' body#there are people out there who cannot transition for medical/financial/social reasons but that isn't what people often mean#kill the person in your head that says you need to adhere to cishet standards. it's okay to be trans and *look* it if you want#transition because it makes you feel happy or fulfilled. transition because it is something *you* want#while yes it's complex because appearing trans can be dangerous i ultimately want people to have the freedom to make decisions solely...#...on what *they* want y'know?#i have seen this idea that some people just aren't 'able' to transition because they won't 'appear cis' for years now and it's heartbreaking#like i used the whole 'i don't look cis' against myself because it's impossible for me *to be* cis...#...i will never be non-trans. i will never not be a transsexual and i used to hate that about myself...#...because i was taught that being trans is bad. i was taught that looking trans is a curse that nobody should EVER inflict upon themselves#and that the goal was to essentially distance yourself as far away from transness as you can#and it's okay for people to not want to 'look' visibly trans. it's neutral. what was harmful was the idea that TRANS was bad#there's a huge difference between 'i don't want to be visibly trans' and 'i think being trans and looking it is bad'
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kedsandtubesocks · 4 months
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give you something to dream about
joel miller x f!reader
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summary: It’s game night at the bar and you stumble upon the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak AU, Joel has both of his daughters, ‘strangers at a bar and maybe something more’ scenario with eventual husband!Joel, mentions of drinking, spicy making out session, Joel gets a bit handsy, gendered language / reader is addressed as “baby” & “darlin” light football discussions and terminology, lovesick and possessive!Joel
word count: 4k
a/n: this is my love letter to Joel, his love for football and maybe my own love for Texas football as well lol. To have this as my first fic of the new year and for it being for Joel means so much. To come back and write for the Pedro fandom is special and means so much. Big thank you to my babe @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream my sports girl head off about this, and for @lowlights for giving me guidance when I needed it. And lastly - thank you for reading, you are what truly makes this so incredibly special and wonderful
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A mixture of bright neon and low soft white lights bathe the bar in a cozy ambient glow. The music is barely audible, a sort of after thought. Instead commotion and the ramble of sports announcers fills the room.
You manage to squeeze through the sea of onlookers dressed in burnt orange. Maria thankfully stays close to you. Now at the bar counter relief floods you as you lean against it.
“Order me a beer, I’m gonna find our table.” Maria yells over the liveliness swirling around.
You give her a thumbs up and thankfully don’t have to wait for the bartender long.
“Like your shirt!”
The bartender’s voice catches you instantly. Bright and direct you blink towards him. He’s cute, young, maybe a grad student from UT Austin who works here.
You can’t help but glance down at what you’re wearing.
Even under your jacket the shirt is comfortably a bit larger on you. The main focus is the old cartoon type logo of Bevo, the Texas Longhorn's mascot. The burnt orange coloring is faded adding to its weathered look.
A warmth flutters through you from just seeing it.
“It’s vintage, cool as hell.” The bartender continues admiring.
“Thanks. Uh, a friend of mine gave it to me.” Thankfully the bartender nods understandingly and doesn’t press the topic more. Instead he soon asks what you’ll be having.
You order Maria’s beer and a drink for yourself.
“So, you a big Texas fan? Well okay, I mean…you gotta be if you’re here.” The bartender, grabbing a drink glass, starts up another conversation with you as his tone becomes playful.
“A lot of people I know and love are. So by default I am too.” You admit with a sleepy grin.
“Aw,” his face melts. “Now that’s sweet. Well glad to have you here cheering for Texas.”
The bartender now even winks at you. You politely laugh but then, the bar erupts silencing the conversation.
Excited yells come so loud you jump out of your skin. Quickly you turn around to view the many tvs and projectors showing the game.
From what you can tell the Texas defense managed to take down the quarterback. You even watch the replay to see what the fuss is about. It was a good tackle and the play kept the other team’s quarterback from even advancing.
The game has you memorized now. You watch as the burnt orange and white uniforms of the players scramble like chaotic ants now trying to rush after the ball was kicked, no, punted to them.
Your lips twitch. You never would’ve thought you knew this much football terminology or could at least follow the game. Yet here you are.
The bartender clears his throat and embarrassingly fast you turn back around.
Not two but three drinks sit before you on the bar counter.
One happens to be a surprise shot that makes your eyes go wide.
“Uh, so the guy at the end of the bar sent it your way.” The bartender explains lowly, trying to be discreet about it.
Your eyes instead whip up to search for the mystery man. Then your heart sprouts wings when you discover him.
Leaning against the bar rail at the very opposed end of where you are, the man seems like something out of a romance novel’s dream.
Ruggedly handsome, his distinguished aged face and striking nose glow against the mixture of neon and dim lighting. It highlights the grays in his beard and gorgeous dark hair. His chocolate eyes bore into you as if you’re the only one in this bar.
His attention on you alone has your knees weak and you wonder maybe you suddenly turned into jello.
Your mystery man lifts his beer up to you, a silent ‘cheers’ and then takes a sip.
Just watching him take a swig of his beer has you dizzy. So you readily snatch up the shot, toast it back to him and down it.
The alcohol burns, but you’re surprised it’s your favorite liquor of choice. You can’t help but cough up wildly and the bartender snickers at your reaction. It’s been too long since you’ve had a shot and you’re thankful to chase the stinging sensation down with your mixed drink.
“Hey!” Maria’s voice calls out and her bright smile greets you as she slides through the packed crowd.
“Hope you didn’t think I forgot about you.” She laughs warmly. She grabs her beer and slides a tip to the bartender.
But then her eyes notice the empty glass.
“Oh? You took a shot without me?” She teases.
You tell her someone bought it for you and her eyebrows fly up fast in eager surprise.
“Oh?” Even her tone is warmly excited. “You get a good look at who your mystery shot buyer is?”
You turn your attention towards the end of the bar, right where he should be. Except your mystery man has vanished.
A bit of disappointment trickles in.
“I did, but guess he took off.” You tell Maria a bit low.
“Well, his loss then. Come on! Let’s head back to our table-”
“S’cuse me…”
A smooth deep and accented drawl, direct and firm enough cuts through the commotion politely cutting in on Maria.
Just as fast, there’s suddenly a deep warmth behind your back. The presence is broad, warm, and smells of the beautiful hint of a sandalwood cologne.
“If you don’t mind, I think I might steal this pretty gem for myself.” The accent seems thicker now and melts off his voice like sin.
He’s talking about you.
Maria smiles wildly entertained while her eyes flicker between you and your mystery man.
Silently you stare back and with pleading eyes you mentally communicate that yes you want to stay, yes it’s okay for her to head back.
“Alrighty then, see you two later.” She says grabbing her beer and gives you one last amused look before heading back to the table.
Your heart races so loud in your ears you don’t even notice the upset yells at a bad call given by the refs.
“…Howdy…”
The voice purrs, absolutely dances against the noise of the bar and beckons to you, your personal siren’s song.
Turning around the shadow of the mystery man falls over you. He stares down with those obsidian pool eyes as his lips turn into a boyish grin.
“I’m Joel. S’nice to meet you.”
You think about all the songs that sing about Texas beauty and how they all must have actually been speaking of this man.
Joel extends his hand out to you and the simple pure southern gentleman introduction has excitement bubbling in you like you’re a champagne bottle about to pop.
Your lips fight back a disbelieved smile as you introduce yourself and shake his hand.
It’s larger than yours, warm and beautifully callous that speaks of hard work. Joel leans closer to you and you can’t help but slide more towards him as well.
“I like your shirt.” His fingers playfully tugs at the bottom edge of your shirt.
“Thanks,” you take a sip of your drink to gain more courage. “A friend of mine let me wear it.”
Joel laughs. It’s warm, touches his face and sounds like it settles in his chest.
“A friend huh?” His voice grows even more amused.
You simply hum a nod as you take another sip of your drink. Your body hums with so many wonderful emotions like a jenga tower trying to hold onto its form on a moving table.
“That friend of yours a boyfriend?” Joel asks, a dark drawl sticky as molasses and trapping you to him.
You can’t help but shake your head no. The taste of your drink momentarily settles you.
“Pretty thing like you single? Ain’t that a shame.” Joel comments with a low rumble and all the ease you had gathered floats away.
Your eyes flicker back to Joel. But your focus goes between his stunning eyes and his lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over, become hooded with a hazy desire. How much it intensifies his gorgeous features makes your stomach flutter.
The game must have quieted down or maybe you’re just this focused on this man.
He moves to whisper in your ear.
“So…Wanna find a nice quiet spot to chat? Get to know each other better?” His lips softly graze your ear and an electric current runs up your spine.
“Yeah.” You mutter back now tipsy off Joel’s presence.
The moment you agree, Joel’s hand slips towards your waist and draws you to his side. He quickly slams down plenty of bills on the counter to cover for the drinks and tip. Your poor drink and his are forgotten.
Now Joel shifts into a man focused.
Squaring up his shoulders, he stands taller as he takes the lead. His broad shoulders become a guiding force, keeping you close to him. His hand intertwines with yours while he navigates you among the crowds.
His larger hand suddenly squeezes yours, a reassuring pressure that draws you closer to him. Moving through the tables against the crowds, you arrive at the outdoor patio where the early night air clears your mind.
Joel continues guiding you to a smaller area where the bathrooms are outside by the patio. You stand before the family restroom that holds the sweet title of “cowpokes” on it. Opening the door, Joel leads you inside. You take in the slightly larger yet still small rustic bathroom that glows under the murky amber light.
The door locks behind you and you turn around to find Joel staring you down with hunger brewing in his smokey eyes.
That’s all you can focus on before you get caught up in a dizzying whirlwind.
Hastily Joel rushes forward to pin you against the wall. His body firm and large presses so deliciously against you. Before your eyes can even soak in the close sight of him, he sweeps in and kiss you with a ravenous fierceness that steals your breath.
He quickly consumes you.
Joel faintly tastes of beer and something intoxicatingly uniquely him. While his hand moves to hold your face, his tongue licks into your mouth, diving in, almost trying to get drunk off you. You can’t help but draw him closer to you as much as you can. You want your nails to dig into him the same way he’s burning under your skin and seeping into your core
His hips begin to grind against you with an eased pace and you moan into his mouth. You want more, need more.
“Oh baby.” Joel groans out and sounds like sticky delicious sin.
Suddenly the loudest cheers leak into the bathroom.
So fierce in their excitement it echos into the room and freezes you and Joel immediately.
He sighs against your lips.
“We must‘ve scored.” Joel mutters.
“Are you upset you didn’t see it?” You ask gently and kiss his lips soft as the heat begins to settle.
“Nah. I’m aimin’ to score here myself.” He grins and the line has you laughing. Your face goes to rest against his as you continue to snicker. The prickle of his beard gently scratching against your skin feels wonderful.
“Darlin’ you’re killin’ me. I wanted to sound slick.” Joel sighs again, sounding deflated now.
“You did...sort of.” You smile.
“Forgive me,” He smirks and turns to press another soft kiss against your lips. “Been outta practice for a while.”
“You aren’t too bad, cowboy. You managed to get me in here.” You hum amused while your fingers run against his jaw, through his scruffy wonderful beard.
Joel chuckles and it dances within his chest, resonating through him.
“You’re the only one I want in here.” He mutters.
You and him share a few more soft slow eased kisses that are rushed, almost shy now.
With one last kiss, a deeply melting one that now makes you ache to keep him here, Joel pulls away. You hold yourself back from pouting.
But, you’re now rewarded with the sight of Joel fully before you. The dim amber light paints him like something pulled from a sunset dream, an aged handsome man so sweet with his furrowed concentrated eyes.
You watch Joel pat around his jean pockets and suddenly your eyes go wide.
“Joel Miller if you lost them-”
“Calm down!” He huffs cutting you off while he rapidly digs into his deep jeans pocket. He yanks something out in his grasp.
He smoothly slides closer back to you and holds out his palm where two wedding rings sit waiting.
His and yours.
Your heart melts out of your chest seeing them and your ring finger itches for its missing piece. You grab Joel’s ring, leaving him yours and move to slide his back onto his hand.
In the same manner, Joel slides your wedding band back onto its rightful place. The memory of when you did this at your actual wedding faintly flutters in and settles warm in your heart’s chamber.
Joel draws your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.
This man, your husband - you yank him towards you again to kiss him.
It’s a kiss that’s like coming home, of sweetness and cultivated bliss reuniting together again.
“Wanna see that bartender try flirtin’ with ya now with that ring on your finger.” Your grumpy husband grumbles adorably.
You bark a laugh. “Oh please, he was being nice for the tip and you know it.”
“Uh huh.” Joel dryly huffs as he stares at you unamused.
“Hey he was nice. He even liked my shirt.” You reply back.
“My shirt.” Joel clarifies strongly. “That’s my shirt.”
You roll your eyes playful.
He is right though. The shirt is his. Your husband is a superstitious football fan. And ever since you wore his shirt and Texas won, Joel used his beautiful brown eyes as weapons to get you to wear his shirt every game since then.
“Come on, curious to see what the score is.” With one last sweet kiss, Joel leads you back out into the evening air.
Hand in hand with him, you find your way to Tommy and Maria. Both of them brighten up at the sight of you and Joel.
“Hey! Look at that! You’re a married man again!” Tommy cries happily and you laugh. Joel, after sliding your chair in for you, rolls his eyes now while you and Maria snicker to each other.
“Bet it was fun while it lasted.” Maria grins.
“Eh.” You shrug but the truth tugs at your lips amused.
A few nights ago, when you and Joel had come up with this idea of going to the bar without the rings, pretending to not know each other, you worried for a split moment that you’d enjoy the freedom.
You worried you would realize how much you missed and enjoyed the playful banter, the flirting and pull that comes with being single. But instead you simply found your way back to Joel.
The excitement of seeing him, of having that same sensation rush through you like it did when you first met him, was nostalgically addictive for a moment.
However, you instead soak in the comfort of sitting beside Joel because it feels like coming home. While being single for another moment again was fun, you want to find Joel in every lifetime, find him as your husband in every universe.
The bar suddenly breaks into wild excitement. Joel as well cheers so loud. You turn to the game and find Texas intercepted a pass.
Now you go to check your phone and find both your daughters thankfully are doing fine. Sarah even sent you a photo text of her and Ellie at the classmate’s birthday party they’re both at. There’s a lightness that settles into your bones seeing them and having their father, your husband, beside you.
Joel and Tommy, as if they’re ESPN announcers in deep analysis, dive back into how Texas needs to sharpen up their offensive line. It’s adorable. It makes you fall in love even more with him.
Maria goes to ask Tommy something about the game and Joel leans towards you.
“You happy to be married again?” His voice drops soft and low. You catch the hint of true curiosity and almost hesitation residing under his tone.
“Of course. It’s my luckiest day all over again.” You truthfully tell him with a warm grin.
“Yeah?” He mutters tenderly as his eyes flicker to your lips again. “Make sure you share some of that luck with the team alright?”
You playfully nudge his arm and Joel smirks. You love him like this, light and teasing.
Joel drops a kiss to the side of your head.
“Don’t worry baby, this is my lucky day too. Goin’ home with the most gorgeous person here and I’m married to her.”
You could say the same thing. You’re leaving with the most handsome man and knowing you’re married to him? You feel honored, proud, and grateful.
Even when he starts yelling at the quarterback as if the poor guy can hear him.
“I could throw a better pass than that!” He argues upset.
You’re not as big of a fan as Joel, but Texas holds a place in your heart forever. It intertwined you and him in its own unique way.
Back when you were dating Joel patiently explained the game, so gently spoke to you without any judgment when you asked questions you were sure would make any other seasoned fan mock you or get annoyed. But not your Joel.
The first big moment you met Ellie and Sarah it was over at his place during a Texas game.
You experienced how wildly invested Ellie got, just like Joel, and how amused Sarah got seeing her dad and sister scream at the tv. From that point - all the days, the games, laughs and moments cultivated into a path that has led you to this moment, to this bar.
And now, here you are.
You love Joel’s love for the game, for the sport. You love how it’s connected you to him.
“Honey, you okay?” The voice of your husband pulls you from your thoughts, like a call home.
You turn to find Joel intently looking at you, your sweetheart provider. You can’t help but grin and nod.
“Yup, just thinking about the handsome stranger I met earlier. Hope he asks for my number.” You tell him.
Joel breaks into a chuckle that touches his earth eyes.
“Between you and me, he’d be a fool if he didn’t.” His hand now slides to yours, his thumb even begins to twist and fiddle with your wedding ring, a sweet habit of his.
You snort amused at how effortlessly he can play along with you.
Before you can tease him again or even wander back into your thoughts, the crowd roars to life with shouts. All eyes including yours snap to the game.
Texas just intercepted the ball and the play breathes life into the bar, into your husband who claps loud and proud.
It’s a great energy to see the end of the second quarter and the start of the halftime.
Suddenly, Joel’s hand begins softly trailing against your thigh. Warm and almost eased, the slow movement ignites a blooming desire in your chest.
Joel easily laughs with Tommy about the game. His eyes stay on his brother. Yet Joel’s hand slides now confidently deeper into the inside of your thigh. Your throat tightens and heat now begins to soak between your thighs, almost daring him to touch you.
Then a collection of happy cheers burst in the bar and steals all the attention.
All the tables nearby including yours turn to find a group of ladies. One of them currently grabs the cowboy hat off a taller man who grins so warmly down at her. She laughs loudly after doing what had to have been a wild shot.
The guy orders her, and her friends, another round causing them to squeal loud and excited again. Maria leans back to talk to Tommy and so you too lean closer to your own husband.
“Maybe I should pretend to be single again.” You tell Joel. “To see if I’ll get free shots and attention like that.”
Not that you’d want any of that. You just enjoy teasing your sweet grumpy husband from time to time.
“Nope.” Joel says with an unwavering sharpness. “You ain’t going anywhere without that ring Mrs. Miller.”
His words are rather light, almost playful, but you catch the underlying possessive simmering. It ignites an even stronger warmth beneath your skin.
“And who says you don’t get free shots? I’ll buy you as many as ya want.” Joel adds and his clipped almost ruffled voice has you laughing.
But as you settle, your thoughts wander. The smell of Joel so close, the mixture of his faint cologne and the detergent you use to wash his clothes, brings back the sensation of having that smell surround you when you were in the restroom with him.
It makes you ache.
Your hand now softly wanders to rub his warm broad chest. A low rumble comes from him, an awareness of your presence as you drape against him now. Maria and Tommy thankfully have begun to make fast friends with the couple sitting beside your table.
Your face leans to rest against Joel’s and the slick honey like desire you felt earlier creeps over you once more. It urges you to be bold.
“Wanna go mess around before halftime is over?” You offer soft and low, only for his ears.
Joel peers over to you, his eyes now smoldering coals.
“You wanna?” He mutters back.
Your answer comes as a soft kiss you place against his cheek. However, your hand now begins to slide up his thigh just like he did to you earlier.
Joel loudly clears his throat and sits up fast which untangles you from him. Immediately he yanks out his wallet to slam his card on the table.
Tommy and Maria now blink back at the sudden action.
“Order anything y'all want. We gotta grab somethin’ from the truck.” Joel lies effortlessly.
But Maria knows as she grins knowingly while embarrassment instead rises in you.
And apparently her husband isn’t as easily fooled either.
“Yeah yeah! Get outta here ya horn dogs!”
Joel barks a sharp ‘hey!’ at his younger brother’s crudeness while you can only laugh against him. Tommy simply makes obnoxious kissy faces while Maria snickers besides him. Unable to endure anymore teasing Joel playfully calls Tommy a piece of shit and with that you wave a quick and thankful to Tommy and Maria.
Joel once again leads the way to the entrance.
The two of you now stay stuck together closer than earlier. An almost giddy frenzy now keeps you both hyper aware of the other. His hands keep you so firmly close to him.
The giddiness you had earlier while pretending to be single with Joel is nothing compared to this. This feeling swirling in you comes from knowing you get to sneak away with your husband. It has you floating, only tied to this world by Joel keeping you steady and protected.
Around you, small chatter about the game hangs in the air.
Texas might not win. But as you slide closer to Joel, a unique shade of triumph washes over you.
Your good man, your wonderful husband.
He is your victory and champion.
Your victory lap and your welcome home party all at once.
And when he kisses you wildly against the side of his truck…you think he might also be your sneaky devilish opponent as his hand already starts to slip under your, no his shirt.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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hoarding-stories · 6 months
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And that was the most extended example I've seen of Matt's dead serious "I really have to do this to them" face
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illustoryart · 9 months
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“The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it’s a world, or a relationship… Everything has its time. And everything ends.”
(Doctor Who)
*our angsty journey continues*
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emry-stars-art · 7 months
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Find the mer au masterpost here 💕
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koddlet · 6 months
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yellowjackets pkmn au: laura lee and lottie!
jackie + shauna // taissa + van // nat // misty
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ursickandmarried · 6 months
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On codependent friendships and their inevitable demise.
V.E. Schwab, A Conjuring of Light // Sally Rooney, Normal People // Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe // Isaac Fellman, Dead Collections // Elliott Smith, Waltz #2 (XO) // Mitski, Why Didn't You Stop Me? // one of our last conversations.
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crybaby-bkg · 8 months
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cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst
When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.
It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.
“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.
“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.
“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.
“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.
“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.
“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.
“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.
“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.
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