#I know I need to go to therapy and all that but I have a question

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. it's your final year of UA High, an achievement that should be celebrated and joyous, but you couldn't believe just how much has changed in such a short amount of time. one thing you never thought you'd have to deal with is the potential of losing your best friend and being powerless to stop it.

content // spoilers for ch.362 through 424 of the manga (this is how i'm coping), aged up to 18/19 + end of senior year @ UA, teeny bit of angst mixed with emotional comfort & fluff, reader is in the support department (w/ an unnamed quirk), reader & bakugo are childhood friends, talks of ptsd/trauma/regret and nightmares about death, mentions of medical issues & therapy, emotionally vulnerable and sickly sweet confessions, extremely soft bakugo (maybe ooc? but trauma changes people's outlooks soooo), idiots in love, best friends to lovers. wc // 5.7k + crossposted to ao3 『 k.bakugo masterlist 』

tagging in the beginning to prevent spoilers if you wanted to avoid them; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @queenpiranhadon

War…is over.

For now.

The media wouldn’t stop playing the coverage on repeat, leaving you unable to escape the scene that will haunt you for the rest of your life and forcing you to realize how vulnerable you are as a human being.

((spoilers below the cut))

You knew the second that Bakugo popped out of the shell of UA’s fortress through a grainy livestream that something was wrong. The way he staggered out, covered in blood with a mangled arm…your heart sank. You had no clue what happened moments prior in that bubble, only the heroes inside knew the truth at the time. Watching Midoriya’s awestruck tears flow as they worked together to save All Might from All for One’s grasp didn’t fill you with hope like others around you - it filled you with fear, a deadly reminder of how dangerous hero society is and the sacrifices it entails. How your duty as a support technician, and as a best friend, wasn’t even close to enough to help him in such dire straits.

Your calls and texts to him went unanswered...as expected. He probably doesn't even have his phone on him. Rumors spread over the course of the week following Shigaraki and All for One’s demise about what happened on the field when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Did you hear about that Bakugo kid? How’d he even get up after all that? You mean from being clinically dead? Yeah, I heard Edgeshot saved his life on the fly. His heart exploded! No, he was punched and it ruptured. But he saved All Might’s life! That was so cool to see. Deku helped, too. He wouldn’t have made it in time without him. A lot of the other students went through a lot of shit…and they expect them to go back to school?

UA was 'kind' enough to give all students a two week break from classes with dorms and buildings open for access as needed. Two weeks to recover from everything that's happened...it was a joke.

You lost count of how many nights you woke up sobbing from nightmares about Bakugo’s death within the past week, ranging from surgery complications to being left to die on the battlefield alone, unable to reach him in time. Your therapist reiterated in your session that this is all a normal response, even when the events didn't directly happen to you and resembled a form of survivor's guilt. It only worsened your negative outlook on society as a whole, knowing full well that they’ve saved Japan today, but there will always be evil lurking and stewing in the shadows, waiting for the next greatest hero to bring to their knees.

The hospital barred anyone outside of the immediate family to see patients, no matter how much you begged every front desk associate to let you see him. You didn’t want to resort to sounding desperate, but you gave in by the end of the week, stopping by Bakugo’s family home to talk with his parents. To your surprise, Mitsuki was home and answered the door. Not more than a second passed before she was scooping you up into a hug, her shaky hands clutching the back of your shirt as if you were her own daughter returning home for the first time in months.

“Hi sweetie,” she greets, her voice hushed and somber; an entire 180 from her normal demeanor. She lets you go, moving her hands to your shoulders as she invites you inside.

You spend some time catching up with her before asking the inevitable question lingering in the air. “How’s Katsuki? The hospital wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

Mitsuki’s eyes glisten, tears pooling in her eyes as she shakes her head and swallows harshly. “He’s a tough ass kid. Surgery went as good as it could’ve, but…” she trails off, wiping the lone tear rolling over her cheek. “Why don’t you come with me this afternoon to the hospital?”

You bite your lip, hands curling in on themselves as they rest on your knees. “But they told me—”

“Screw that!” She interrupts, standing to her feet. “You’re comin’ with me. You are family to us.”

Your stomach cartwheels as the hospital comes into view from the backseat of the Bakugo family car, Masaru driving the three of you through the visitor’s parking lot. Mitsuki glances in the rear view mirror, catching the nervous twitch in your lips as you stared out the window.

“Dear, could you give us a minute?” she asks Masaru, motioning him to go on ahead. He nods in acknowledgment and leaves the car to head to the lobby.

“Do you wanna talk before going inside?”

How the hell did she know you were nervous? She’s known you for a good chunk of your live, it’s not too far fetched she’d be able to analyze your emotions like she does for her own son.

“I'm...” you say meekly, fidgeting with your jeans. “...trying to stay positive, but I’ve had so many nasty nightmares and I don’t know what to expect. I've only heard rumors at school about his condition.”

Mitsuki reaches to the backseat and gently takes one of your hands in hers. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. Shit, I’m terrified for him and all the other kids…this isn’t something everyday people experience, so it’s unfair to expect yourself to have standards on how to feel. He's alright, I can promise you that.”

You sigh, her words giving you a sense of comfort. “Thank you.”

“And if I can say one thing,” she adds, squeezing your hand to grab your attention. “That kid adores you, he’s just a stupid boy who doesn’t know how to say it.”

The laugh that bubbles up from your belly is genuine, a thin layer of anxiety dissolving at the thought of him getting embarrassed by his mom’s words. Nodding, you let go of her hand and open the car door, signaling you’re ready to go inside.

“Katsuki! You can’t be up and roaming around!”

Mitsuki’s heels click against the marble flooring as she scampers to Bakugo’s side down the hallway, Masaru trailing behind her when she catches a glimpse of him hobbling into a room that isn’t his own. You stay back, peering from around the corner to avoid being seen if he happened to glance your way. A few minutes pass before you faintly hear Masaru say, "Come on, let's get you back to your room to rest," and the sounds of their footsteps retreating down the hall.

It's almost embarrassing how long it takes you to work up the courage to follow after them - what's the big deal? Your best friend is physically here, not some ghost or a walking corpse from your nightmares. You knew in your heart what it was that kept you frozen in place, a feeling you've long shut away, burying it within the depths of your heart to keep yourself sane.

Love.

And it scared the shit out of you, especially now. 

Retreating back to the lobby, you mindlessly scan the vending machines as a distraction until a hand touches your back. You jump at the contact and turn to see Mitsuki and Masaru standing behind you.

"We're heading home for a few hours to make some dinner and come back with leftovers for Katsuki. I told the nurses you're with us, so keep this pass with you." She hands you a visitors badge and you tuck it in your uniform pocket. "I'll bring you some dinner, too, dear. Don't waste your money on snacks. Now go see him, he could use some time away from us."

You've got a chance to be alone with Bakugo to talk with him about...everything, and you're frozen in the goddamn lobby. It takes a bit of kicking yourself in the ass to get moving, but eventually, you begin to warily make your way back to the patient wing. 

A vague memory of standing at UA’s entrance comes barreling to the front of your mind, the day that the hero courses all left to prepare for the war torn city streets with the pros. You’d stood to the side, passively blessing everyone with good luck and your best wishes as they prepared to depart. When Bakugo shuffles away from his parents, he spots you in the crowd and approaches you with a straight face. Just when you’re about to say something, he grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you toward a set of hedges nearby. Not completely out of sight, but enough to hide from the majority of the congregation of friends and families.

“Kats?” You question, confused by him secluding the two of you from everyone else.

“Not another word,” Bakugo warns, cornering you in the darkness of the wall and bushes. He hesitates before reaching for one of your hands, warmth flooding from his palm into yours. His other hand scratches at the back of his neck nervously, eyes upturned to the sky as he speaks lowly. 

“Wanted to say thanks for supporting my dream of bein’ a hero all these years. Don’t go worrying about me while I’m out there, alright?”

Before you could interject, his back was to you and marching over to join the others. 

His words rang in your head every night, repeatedly taunting you about the feelings that rattled your ribs from how fast he made your heart beat.

You should have told him then.

The walk up the stairs to his floor fills you with unexplainable jitters that you've never felt before - were you dreading the conversation? Are you scared he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings, despite Mitsuki's words from earlier? Or...afraid to see the damage in person?

You find his name on one of the patient plaques, taking a deep breath as your knuckles tap on the hollow door. His voice follows soon after, "Yeah, come in."

Your hand lingers on the door handle for a moment before you convince yourself to go inside.

‘Come on, it’s Katsuki. He's your best fucking friend. He knows everything about you and vice versa. Don’t be a damn coward and make it weird.’

The door slides on the track at a snails pace, revealing your face bit by bit to Bakugo as he stares in your direction. Imagine your surprise when his eyes widen upon seeing you, mouth open to say something, but nothing comes out. You shut the door and walk over to the right side of his hospital bed.

“Hey Katsu—”

The words refused to come out as you took in his current condition - a full arm cast, a brace around his waist, oxygen tubes through his nose and multiple bandages covering his pretty face. The window sill is lined with various vases of fresh flowers and 'Get Well Soon!' cards. It's overwhelming, the lump in your throat hardening at the sight, unable to stop the lightning bolts of anxiety zapping the color from your face. Bakugo snaps you out of it when his left hand reaches across the bed and grips your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

“Stop analyzin’ the damage and c’mere already.”

Before you could react, he’s using his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you against him as tightly as he could manage. “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna come visit me.”

The tears are swiftly building on your waterline, threatening to downpour all over your cheeks and stain his hospital gown. It takes every ounce of willpower not to say 'I didn't think I'd ever see you again.'

“They wouldn’t let me, I’ve been trying for a week. Your mom convinced them to let me in,” you explain as you lay one of your hands over his heart, thumbing over the fabric and feeling the freshly raised scar tissue underneath. “I’ve called and texted you, but figured they didn’t let you have your phone.”

“I don’t even know where it is,” he huffs. “Ma probably has it, or it’s dead on my desk in the dorms.”

Bakugo’s fingers run through your hair, playing with it absentmindedly in silence, sighing to himself. “I’ve got so much shit runnin’ through my head that I can’t think straight.”

“Yeah...I thought that would be the case.” You pull yourself away from his embrace, shifting to the opposite side of the bed before settling in to the chair by the window. "What's going on?"

He pouts, extending his left hand in your direction. There’s a hint of pink under his bandages that begins blooming down his neck when he mumbles, “Want you closer.”

You pick up the chair to scoot it forward as Bakugo groans aloud, shaking his head and patting the empty space next to him in the hospital bed.

“Kats, there isn’t enough room for both of us,” you laugh, unable to hide the drag of your lips curling into a smile at his flustered expression. He stares at you for a moment longer, asking 'please?' with those beautiful ruby eyes of his.

How can you not give in to him?

As gingerly as you can, you slide under the thin blanket on the bed and up against his left side, his arm raised to make room for your body to mold into his. You’re terrified to touch him, treating him like a porcelain statue and stiffening in his embrace.

"M'not gonna break if ya touch me," he comments, patting you on the back for assurance. Reluctantly, you lay your head against his chest and drape your arm over his midsection, settling in and getting as comfortable as you could in the confined space, careful to avoid all of the wires and tubes hooked up to him.

"I'm not used to you being touchy-feely for more than a minute at a time," you joke, smiling when you hear the click of his tongue against his teeth in response. 

"My damn parents are the only ones I've been stuck with, gimme a goddamn break!"

A few minutes pass before you two carry on the conversation again, Bakugo clearing his throat awkwardly before letting go of the breath he was holding. "How...are ya holdin' up?"

Truthfully? You weren't, hoping that the light purple pockets forming under your eyes and lifeless hair were not dead giveaways of your mental status.

"I've...been better. What about you?" you reply, blatantly lying through your teeth. It wouldn't be fair to lay out all of the traumatic shit you've thought about over the last week when he's in the hospital recovering from the actual traumatic events.

"It's...lonely here," Bakugo mutters faintly, almost too low to hear. "An' I can't sleep. The nurses are nice, though, same with the therapist they sent in yesterday."

"They made you see a therapist straight out of surgery?"

"Right? S'what I said. Didn't talk much, though. Basically gave me the rundown of UA supplying all the students a therapist next month. Don't think it'll do much for me, not like I can undo all the shit that happened, but Ma talked me into goin' later on."

"Can't hurt, even if it's every once in awhile."

"...Yeah."

You trace some of the creases in his hospital gown idly, savoring his presence and the sound of his voice. Bakugo fidgets with the material of your shirt, wanting to avoid dumping all of his thoughts on your shoulders, but the weight is too much for him to hold onto any longer. 

"Izuku's...quirkless again. I don't know how to feel, but I cried like a damn child when I overheard him talkin' with All Might about it. Gave me a perspective that I never thought about before all this shit went down."

"And what's that?"

"...I robbed him of his dream."

You wish, more than anything, that you could go into Bakugo's head and pluck out all the guilt he still harbors over his and Midoriya's childhood together. It's not like Midoriya held it against him anymore, and Bakugo knew that, but he couldn't shake those demons loose that reminded him of his past self.

"You didn't. He knew the costs of One for All and agreed to it, it's not your fault."

"I know, but I feel so fuckin' shitty for treating him like he's dirt for so long."

"It's not stupid to feel," you say, feeling his body tense and relax beneath you. "But Katsuki, you need to forgive yourself. You can't let this eat away at you forever, it's been over two years since you apologized."

His heart aches at your words, knowing you're right, but he couldn't forgive himself...not yet, anyways. Maybe tomorrow, or next week, even next month, just not right now.

"...thank you," is all Bakugo can say, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from getting choked up about it for a second time. Silence falls upon the room, letting the two of you simply co-exist for a moment of peace. It had been a long fucking week, and being in the same room, let alone touching one another, was a luxury you didn't know if you'd ever have again.

"I'm out of commission for a bit, but that's not a concern to me right now. I know I can come back from this shit and stay on track to bein' number one. There's somethin' else that's been on my mind since..." he trails off, the hand on your back moving to your shoulder to tighten his hold on you. "...I fought Shigaraki in that damn fortress."

You rest your hand atop his on your shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it if it's stressful."

"No, I need'ta tell ya before I chicken out 'cause I didn't say it when I had the chance." He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, twisting the strands in his finger as he bit his lip nervously. He's thankful you aren't currently looking at him, else wise all his cover would be blown before he spoke one word about it.

"The second he broke my arm, I didn't think about the pain, all I could think about was seein' you again. And then some otherworldly shit happened, the weirdest fuckin' out of body experience. I didn't believe in any of that junk until now."

Hearing him recollect the memory of his untimely death resurfaces all of the dormant fears lying in your mind from your nightmares. You screw your eyes shut to keep them away, to shield you a little longer from the pain they inflict upon you. Bakugo was right here, right now, with you. He's not an illusion or a figment of your imagination...he's here.

"...are you shaking?" He asks, hand cascading down your back to calm your nerves. You hadn't noticed that you were trembling, focused on doing your damndest to keep it together and let him spill his guts freely. "Do you want me to stop talkin' about it?"

It's muffled against his hospital gown, but you're able to squeak out a measly 'no.' He pats your head tenderly and shuts his eyes before continuing.

"I remember focusin' on rushing in and getting hit a second time, but this felt...different. There wasn't any pain, and when I came to, All Might's vestige ghost was there. He didn't say anything when I talked to him," Bakugo pauses, inhaling deeply to compose himself. "He led me back to UA and took me to the support wing's workshop. You were testing somethin' with Goggles, giggling away like an idiot with her."

The tears welling up in your eyes were inevitable at this point - was he insinuating that while he was skirting between life and death, he thought about you?

"And then I was outside, lying in the grass at our favorite spot down by the river. You'd dropped your fuckin' popsicle in the dirt, whining about how much you wanted it. I made fun of ya a bit before givin' you mine, but you insisted we share it instead. It was...nice. Everything felt warm and peaceful. When I actually woke up to Jeanist and the others, they kept sayin' I was revived and needed to go to the hospital. That's when I jumped in to help Deku and, well, y'know the rest."

Your body shivers, the hiccup you were desperately holding in coming to the surface in a muted sob. He silently lets a few tears fall, too, the bandages growing saturated with saltiness and stinging the open cuts on his face. His stomach was in knots, but shockingly, he welcomed the foreign feeling. To him, it only confirmed what he felt was true. He didn't know jack shit about love, but was more than confident that he could untangle the complexities of it with you.

"I was knockin' on death's door and you led me back home. Before I left, I was gonna tell ya how important you are to me...now more than ever."

You pray that Bakugo can't feel, or hear, how hard your heart was beating against your sternum, hammering away at his unexpected confession. The whirring of the medical machinery accompanied his words hanging in the air, swirling in tandem with the thoughts in your head.

Do it.

Say it.

Take the chance.

Cautiously, you attempt to sit up and haphazardly slip on the sheets, colliding foreheads with him while trying to catch yourself. Instead of scolding you, Bakugo bursts out laughing, a few stray tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "Y'coulda said something instead of head butting me, brat."

"Like you gave me a chance to say shit!" you scoff, poking him in the chest playfully. When your eyes meet, reflective hearts are bouncing between your gazes, faces lingering dangerously close to one another. "I've...been waiting to tell you something, too."

"Yeah? An' what's that?"

Your vision begins to blur, eyes falling shut as the gravity becomes too much to bare any longer. Your left hand glides up his chest, finding purchase on his collarbone while your lips rest plush against his. Electricity races through your veins and time stands still, all the clichés about love coming to the forefront of your mind and how true they proved to be in the moment. You barely notice when Bakugo's free hand threads through your hair and settles at the nape of your neck, melding the two of you into a deeper first, and definitely not last, kiss. When you part, it's not met with gasps for air, but with breathless sighs of bliss. You're pulling away only to gravitate back into his orbit, unable to resist his advance when he lurches forward to steal a second kiss. Your lips quiver against his as the words in your heart beg to be released, unable to cage the emotions thrashing around in your chest.

"You have no idea how many nightmares…I had about you not coming home…or that it was too late…to bring you back to life in the hospital,” you mutter between delicate kisses, finally having the strength to lean back and lock eyes with him. “I'd be standing at your goddamn grave like a widow whose husband returned from war in a casket, vacantly staring at the ground while the rain soaked through my clothes. The roses always had thorns that cut my hands open. It changed every single night, a new version of losing you before getting the chance to say...," you stop, attempting to swallow the pain long enough to confess, but your voice betrays you and cracks as you blurt out, "that I love you, Katsuki, and—"

He dreamily exclaims, "I love you, too," before the realization hits that he said it out loud and not in his head. It catches you both off guard and sends him into an adorable panic, the previous pink hue to his skin growing deeper by the second.

"S-shit," he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose to hide his lovesick expression. Your run your finger along his jawline, careful not to catch any of the bandaging, and stop at his chin to coax his attention back to you.

"I want to be the loudest person that you can hear cheering for you in a crowd when you save a little kid or capture a villain." Your hand cups the right side of his face while you continue to pour your bruised heart out. "To be your number one fan at signings and promo events that an agency is going to force your grumpy ass to do, the one who picks up your broken pieces when no one else is around. I want to give you everything because you deserve nothing less than that."

For the first time in his short life, Bakugo is speechless. What did he ever do to deserve your endearment? He wasn't one to shy away from expressing what was owed to him through blood, sweat and tears - like working hard on an assignment and deserving nothing short of a 100% passing grade - but this was unlike anything else. He truly didn't know why you were so captivated by his energy, even before these confessions came stumbling out into the open. What about him appealed to you in such a way to make you desire him so deeply?

"I—" he struggles to find the words to say, searching his brain incessantly for something to match your sweet sincerity. "I'd be happy sharin' popsicles with you by the river for the rest of my life if that's what it came down to. I don't need money or fame as a hero, bein' with you is more than enough for me."

In the past, something so sickly sweet would make Bakugo gag and be an immature jackass over the sentimentality, but now? He wouldn't admit that he enjoys the warmth blossoming in his chest and how it gives him stupid ass butterflies, especially when it comes to you. It struck at the most random times; when you'd laugh at his dumb jokes, toss him a smile in the hallway between classes, sit on the countertop while he cooked dinner for you two in the common room kitchen, fall asleep during your movie nights on his shoulder and drool on his shirt...the list kept growing exponentially until it kept him up at night, yearning to be by your side whenever you two were apart. 

He should've known the moment you approached him on the playground over a decade ago, joining him on that rusty swing set out of nowhere and started talking his ear off about the dandelions by the riverbed. 

Fuck, he was smitten as hell for you.

Your eyes well up with crocodile tears, lower lip wobbling and unable to stop the fat droplets coating your lashes, staining your strawberry cheeks and dripping down your neck. 

"T-thank you," you choke out, wiping your palms over your face to erase the tears. Bakugo chuckles under his breath, reaching to cradle your cheek in his hand. 

"So, do I still gotta ask you?" he jokes, smiling awkwardly as his eyes dart to the ceiling. 

You don't know what he's referring to. "Ask me...what?"

"...Seriously?" Bakugo lets his hand fall from your face. The blank expression on your face confirms you are absolutely clueless to what he means.

"Fuck, fine." He rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders dramatically before shifting in the bed to re-position himself. He leisurely tilts his head forward and into your space, close enough for his breath to fan over your lips as he speaks. "I want ya to be mine."

"Didn't sound like a question to me," you tease, lovingly nuzzling your nose with his.

"Shut the fuck up...wanna hear ya say it."

Uh oh, gravity is kicking in again.

Your lips part with half-lidded eyes as you purr, "I'm already yours, Katsuki," before melting into him, sealing your promise with another kiss. He tries to control it, but the tiniest moan floods out of him when he experimentally swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, ferociously flaring your cheeks into a deep scarlet flush as you reciprocate. Instinctively, he moves his right arm to cradle you closer and is met with searing pain, jolting away from your lips unexpectedly.

"Fuck!" he shouts, out of breath and wincing at the pain burning into his shoulder. "Sorry, s'my fault for trying to move the damn thing. Wasn't thinkin' and forgot where we are."

The sparkle in his eyes dim as he cast his gaze downward to analyze the cast. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I was never good at timin', but dammit, I wish I could hold ya properly."

"No, no, it's alright, we've got plenty of time when you can."

Bakugo exhales while shifting his weight to readjust, making room for you to lay on his chest and tucking you back under his good arm a second time.

"Promise me somethin'," he sighs into your hair. "No matter how awful shit gets in the future, don't lose faith in me or the others over some dumbass villains and let it sour your outlook on the world."

Wow, were your feelings that obvious?

"It's...not that." Guilt trickles down your spine, goosebumps prickling up your arms from pinpointing the negative associations you've built up in your head. "Of course I believe in you, Kats, but it scares the shit out of me that this all happened before any of you had the chance to be pros. I know you said you're not worried about it, but I am."

He knows you're right, you have every reason to be concerned over the state of the world and what that means for the future after everything that's happened this year.

"I have hope," he starts, letting his head fall back against the stack of pillows. "Doc told me my right arm is dead in the water 'cause of all the bone segments they had to join together in the surgery, but the possibility of it healin' isn't out of the question."

Your heart sinks in the pause of conversation. How could he have such a positive outlook after being legally dead?

"I refused a prosthetic and wanna try rehab first. M'not gonna let it ruin my approach to bein' a hero. The real challenge is my heart, but that's not—"

"Wait, what's wrong with your heart? I thought Edgeshot patched it up?" you interrupt, turning up at him with your brows scrunched together. It might be a silly question, all things considered, but Edgeshot was a masterful surgeon with a high success rate in his field...everything should be fine, right? 

His heartbeat kicks up in tempo under your cheek - that can't be a good sign.

"He did...but it's not that simple, sweetheart. I've gotta take it easy for at least six weeks, maybe some meds to keep things stable. Shit sucks, considering I'm used to training daily, but it's not impossible to deal with. I can handle it. Plus, I got you an' your gadgets on my side."

"And you're telling me all this, but are worried about my feelings and Izuku being quirkless instead of yourself?"

Damn, you hit the nail on the head. Bakugo smirks, laughing to himself. "Heh, yeah. Guess so."

"Typical Katsuki, silently caring about everyone else before himself." You snuggle into him, a yawn falling out of you as you pull the blanket up to your shoulders. "Stop making me like you more and go back to grumpy, please."

"Only if ya promise to stick with me." 

"Like you have to ask. I promise."

He places a kiss to the crown of your head. "Good."

Your eyes fall shut, the rhythm of Bakugo's heart beginning to lull you into a tranquil, and much needed, sleep. Before you pass out, you drowsily slur, "Everything's gonna be okay. You're the strongest person I know...love you, Kats."

Pearlescent tears pool at the corners of his eyes, the ones that escape rolling over the gauze on his face and soaking into the material once more. All the pain, worry, and relentless thoughts about failure temporarily fade away into nothingness, offering him peace and a sense of safety to drift off to dreamland. He closes his eyes, lips upturned into a smile as he whispers, "Thank you...love you too, princess. Sweet dreams."

The door to Bakugo's room creaked open a half-hour later, Mitsuki and Masaru returning with dinner as promised. "Hey kid, we're—"

She stops herself, putting a finger to her lips and turning to Masaru, signaling for him to quietly shut the door. They can't help but jointly smile at the sight before them, the two of you are snoring away on the hospital bed together, cozied up under the sheets and out like a light. 

"Reminds you of us, doesn't it? I had a feeling seeing her would help him relax," Masaru says, lightly stroking Mitsuki's back. "Why don't we come back in a bit to see if they're up?"

She nods and hands the containers of mabo tofu for him to take while she approaches the hospital bed. Her palm glides over Bakugo's cast, thumb tracing over his right wrist as her mind wandered back to memories of him as a little firecracker of a child; chasing butterflies in the backyard, playing super heroes with Izuku, and his toothy little grin anytime he was excited about something. Nineteen years flew by, and Mitsuki couldn't be prouder of her bombastic hero. Before turning to leave with Masaru, she affectionately pinches Bakugo's cheek, light enough not wake him from his slumber. She peers over at you, admiring how much you've grown, too.

'If anyone's gonna take care of my brat, it's you...thank you.'

The two of them leave you to enjoy each other's comfort. 

The hurricane has passed and there's sunlight shining on a new future. The will be storms to come, but society has been given a chance to heal, all thanks to the next generation of pro heroes sacrificing their youth to challenge the status quo. Things won't be easy, that's for damn sure, but it's gonna take something stronger than the depths of hell to keep Katsuki Bakugo away from his dream - and you. 

written in a frenzy while listening to epiphany // evermore & semi-proof read through my own tears, so apologies if it's just a bunch of mushy ramble. i have a bunch of other projects to work on, and am shifting back to them, this just was in my head and i needed to get it out. thanks for reading. <3

[mxmmyprentiss]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: JJ was always observant of her surroundings. It's one of the skills that made her an excellent profiler. So when JJ saw you walk out of the supply room one afternoon followed by Emily leaving a minute later from that same supply room, she decided something was up. She has watched you and Emily closely since then. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader / Emily Prentiss & Jennifer Jareau / Jennifer Jareau & Reader Warnings: jealousy, teasing, suggestive/implied smut (no actual smut scene) Word count: 3.4K+

A/N:

This idea suddenly came to me today and I just had to write it to get it out of my head. Enjoy!

All likes, reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated! :)

AO3

JJ was always observant of her surroundings. It's one of the skills that made her an excellent profiler.

So when JJ saw you walk out of the supply room one afternoon followed by Emily leaving a minute later from that same supply room, she decided something was up. She has watched you and Emily closely since then.

—

It’s one of those rare days that the team had no active case but there was a lot of backlogs on the reports and other paperworks so Emily distributed them on the team asking for help. The team willingly helped her (with the bribe of dinner and drinks later this week).

The lingering touch of your hand on Emily’s hand when she handed you some folders didn’t get past JJ’s sharp eyes.

She decided now was a good time to start her plan. She stood up and walked over to your desk. “Y/N, can I ask you for advice?” JJ asked, sitting on your desk. Emily looked at JJ too.

“Yeah, sure. What’s it about?” You answered with a smile.

JJ rubbed the back of her neck and stretched her back. “Don’t you have a background in physical therapy?”

“Yeah, I did rehab medicine for like a year then I got bored of it.” You chuckled, wincing at the reminder of your decisions. “Why’d you ask, JJ? Do you need one? I still know -”

“No, no…” JJ rubbed your arm up and down. “I was wondering if you still know what could be causing this stiff neck I was having lately. Right here,” She dragged your hand on the back of her neck.

Emily watched the exchange between you and JJ and couldn’t help the small fire starting inside her.

“Must be your sleeping position. Do you know how bad your sleeping and sitting positions are, especially on the jet?” You let out a ‘tsk’ sound as you shook your head, still oblivious to the way Emily was looking back and forth between the both of you.

JJ wasn’t letting your hand go, now she was holding your hand on her lap. “A good massage would cure this. Do you want to go to a spa with me tomorrow night? My treat.” JJ winked at you, grinning.

There was a small kick at the back of your foot and you realize Emily hasn’t left yet. She was clenching her jaw.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t. I have plans, JJ.”

JJ’s grin turned into a pout. “Such a shame. I was hoping I could finally see that tattoo on your back.”

“You have a tattoo?” Spencer spinned around in his chair, curiously turning to your table upon hearing what JJ said. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You quickly dismissed the questions. “Let’s all get back to work, shall we?”

The squeeze that JJ gave your shoulders didn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes. She asked you to follow her to her office and bring the folders she just handed you. You followed her without a question.

Emily closed the door to her office, almost like a slam but not quite. “So, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” You asked, confused about what she wanted to know. “My tattoo? You’ve seen it.”

“Don’t play dumb.” Emily rolled her eyes, back leaning against the desk. “JJ was clearly flirting with you.”

“She was?” You frowned, thinking. “She was always friendly.”

Emily shook her head, biting her lower lip for a second. “Not like that. She’s not usually this touchy.”

“Well,” You cleared your throat. “Don’t think too much about it now. It’s fine.”

Emily didn’t think more of it for now and dismissed you to your desk.

—

It has been happening a lot lately. You sleeping over at Emily’s apartment.

You let out a loud yawn, gently rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you enter the kitchen. The smell of bacon made your stomach grumble and the scent of brewing coffee filled your nose. You saw Emily in her adorable peach robe, busy making an elaborate breakfast on the counter. You shuffle behind her, pressing up close to her back and wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Good morning,” You greeted her, pressing a small trail of kisses on her neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a log.” Emily smiled. She slightly leaned her back onto your body, feeling like she might just fall asleep again snuggled up against you. “Breakfast is ready.”

“And she cooks.” You said cheerfully, grabbing two mugs and pouring a freshly brewed coffee for both of you. “Thank you, my love.” You gave a quick peck on the lips before sitting beside her.

“Eat up. We have to be at the office in 30.”

“We’ll shower together to save time. Then you’ll drive. You can be a reckless driver.” You teased, chewing on the food. Emily glared at you, knowing all too well that you’re right but not enjoying the fact that you are. “Remember that you love me.”

“Not when you’re so smug.” She gave you a deadpan look, before cracking and smiling lightly upon seeing the little bruises that scattered your neck and shoulder.

—

You both got to work on time. Emily got in the elevator first and you got into the next one to make it less suspicious.

Emily was just about to enter her office when you stepped out of the elevator. You pushed past the glass doors and said hello to everyone. Reid offered you a cup of coffee and you accepted it wholeheartedly.

Meanwhile, JJ had a knowing look in her eyes as she watched you and Emily over the top of her computer screen, but kept quiet for a moment and pretended to work, waiting to see if she could catch any more ‘suspicious’ activity between the both of you like how you always arrived two minutes later after Emily did for the past few weeks now.

To put her plan in motion, JJ sat on your desk, asking you random questions that weren’t work-related at all like if you saw the latest episode of the same TV show that you were watching, or if you listened to the latest album release of Taylor Swift.

You couldn’t help glancing at the distracting way she was alternating her thighs as she sat in front of you.

From her office, Emily could see the whole thing. JJ was sitting on your desk and how your eyes sometimes fell on JJ’s thighs that were barely covered by her skirt. A small twinge of jealousy flared inside Emily’s chest but she tried to tamp it down and not feel that way. JJ was a friend and coworker after all, and there’s no way that she or you would do anything more, especially in the workplace. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down and not let her mind run away with unnecessary thoughts.

That was the plan until Emily saw JJ rubbing your shoulders and arms. The sight made a small frown cross her lips, and that twinge of jealousy in her chest grew slightly bigger. She kept her expression composed as she watched from the corner of her eye, still attempting to not let her worries get to her but slightly failing as she noticed JJ getting more touchy with you.

Emily felt like she was about to lose it. Her jaw clenched slightly and her fist accidentally crumpled a piece of paper as she watched JJ wipe the coffee stain off your chin. That twinge of jealousy flared and turned into a blazing fire burning in her chest as she saw JJ’s touch being so close to your mouth.

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise as JJ accidentally spilled some coffee onto your shirt. A flash of annoyance flickered across her face. Although she still held the expression at bay, her annoyance was quickly becoming more evident as she saw you follow JJ out of the bullpen and away from her line of sight. The roaring fire in her chest was getting bigger and bigger.

Emily’s fists clenched tightly at her lap as she saw you come back wearing JJ’s shirt. The sight of it only made her feel more annoyed.

She felt her annoyance growing by the second as you approached her office.

“Hey, do you want coffee? I can get you some at the break room.” You said in your usual cheery voice.

“You look ridiculous.” Emily spat without even looking at you, pretending to read the reports in her table.

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. You took a quick look at your shirt. There was nothing wrong with it. “Huh?”

Emily stood up, closing the blinds of her office, sensing that this conversation might be long and need privacy.

She finally looked at you. “Well, you’re walking around looking absolutely ridiculous in that shirt. You could have just taken it off rather than walking around looking like a fool.” Her voice was bitter and sarcastic now, clearly agitated by your current appearance that screamed I’m with JJ!

“JJ spilled coffee on me.” You reasoned.

She rolled her eyes, her mood growing more agitated as she listened to your excuse for your outfit. “You just had to put on her shirt. Why didn’t you just take it off, huh?”

“You want me to walk around topless? I don’t think people would approve.”

“I never said you should walk around topless. I said to take the damn shirt off since you already look ridiculous in it.” Emily let out an annoyed huff, glaring at you. She couldn’t help but think you looked like you’re parading around with JJ by wearing her shirt, and that did nothing but stoke the blazing jealousy inside her.

“What’s exactly wrong with it? It’s comfy. I’ll change later if I really look so ridiculous.” You said, still oblivious why Emily was suddenly acting like this. “JJ said I looked good in it.” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Emily heard it.

She let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at your words. Your statement only made her feel more aggravated. Her hands gripped the armrest of her chair, jaw clenching as the jealousy burned like wildfire inside of her. “Oh, of course. You always do what JJ says, huh?”

“Wh - what?”

Her eyes narrowed, voice cold as she responded to you, “You always do what JJ says. She says you should wear the stupid shirt, she says you look good in it so you take the compliment, she says anything and you do it without question. Isn’t that right?”

Emily never felt possessive or jealous like this before, but she was feeling it now and she couldn’t exactly control it.

You took a step closer to Emily. “It’s just a shirt, Em.”

She scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes again. “Of course it’s just a shirt. But it’s a shirt from JJ, and that’s what matters, right? You’d rather have anything that she gave you rather than something from me?”

So that’s what it was. It finally clicked into your thick skull.

Without saying a word, you took off the shirt, leaving you in your bra.

Emily’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you taking your shirt off, revealing your bra and making her feel slightly flustered. Her eyes darted across your figure before snapping back up to your face. She swallowed thickly, quickly trying to regain composure, crossing her arms in front of her chest and still glaring. “Well, are you happy now? Because I’m sure JJ must love seeing you standing around in your bra.”

You let out an exasperated groan. “I wear it, you complain. I take it off, you complain. What am I supposed to do?”

“I want you to dress like a professional. A bra is not a proper attire and I can’t have you parading around the office in only that while everyone can see you. It’s embarrassing.”

“God,” you sighed. You quickly put the shirt back on.

As Emily sees you put the shirt back on, she felt satisfied that you were no longer standing around half naked. “Good. I don’t want you half naked out in the open where absolutely anyone can see you.” Emily walked closer to you, pulling the hem of the stupid shirt. “You’re mine and that’s enough. I don’t want JJ or any other agent getting any ideas.” She muttered under her breath in a bitter grumble.

You let out a small laugh. “Is this what this is about? You want to stake your claim on me?”

“What else do I need to say to get through that thick skull of yours?”

Emily was caught off guard by the quick peck on the lips that you gave her. “You look cute when you’re jealous.” She rolled her eyes again. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You know I love you, right?”

Emily nodded shyly, not meeting your eyes.

“You know I love you and only you, right?” You asked again, lifting her chin, forcing her to look you in the eyes.

“I know.”

“I was never not yours, Emily.” You reassured her, brushing your hand on her forearm, squeezing it lightly.

And in an instant, the wildfire in Emily’s chest started to die.

And when you got home that night, Emily shoved you on the couch and ripped JJ’s shirt from your body. You hoped JJ would forgive you. Or Emily.

—

As usual, Emily was just about to enter her office when you got out of the elevator. You walked to your desk with a cup of coffee in hand and your handbag on the other.

JJ’s eyes roamed over you and the dark green turtleneck you were wearing, taking in your appearance before sitting on your desk and greeting you. “Morning, hot stuff. I like the turtleneck.”

“Uh, thanks. I just bought it.” You felt your cheeks warming up.

“It suits you.” Luke commented with a cocky smirk on his face, taking a sip from his mug as his eyes roamed over you in that intense, curious way he did with everything he investigated. But this time the look held a hint of teasing to it, his eyes slowly going over you as if he could look past the turtleneck to see the hickeys you were obviously hiding.

“Stop staring, guys. Seriously.” You said, the blush on your face intensified.

“Why? You can’t handle it, hot stuff?” Luke smirked again before taking another sip of his coffee. JJ tried to hide her chuckle behind her own mug.

You shot him a glare and he only chuckled. You turned to JJ for backup. “JJ, make him stop.”

“I’m telling Prentiss to move your desk way over there so when Garcia gets out of her lair, you’ll be the first person she sees.” It was your turn to smirk, watching Luke suddenly tensed a bit at your words, a hint of color appearing on his face.

“Looks like you still have it bad for our sexy tech analyst.” You teased, eyes twinkling as you challenged him to say something to refute it.

Luke shot you both a sarcastic look, his eyes narrowing with slightly annoyed defiance at the teasing.

You and JJ did a high five, watching the way Luke’s ears slightly reddened and the way the color rose on his cheeks in a blush as he walked away.

When JJ stood up to get back to her desk, one of her heels broke causing her to stumble and somehow landed heavily on your lap, her hands grasping at your shoulders and steadying herself as she fell onto you with a stunned look on her face.

“You okay?” You asked JJ, worried that her ankle might have been sprained or something.

JJ stared at you for a moment before the stunned look on her face was replaced with a smirk. She stared down at you with her arms around your shoulders and her face inches from yours, a teasing smile on her lips as she replied, “Oh, I’m perfect. You’re not a bad cushion, I’ll admit.”

You felt a tightness in your throat. Not because of JJ on your lap, but because of Emily glaring from her office.

“Y-you should get up, JJ.”

“Why? I’m comfortable.” JJ whispered huskily, trailing her fingers along your shoulders and gently squeezing them.

“I … we should …”

JJ’s eyes suddenly widened as she saw Emily step out of her office, watching as Emily’s gaze immediately landed on her. JJ stayed put in your lap and you remained sitting, frozen and frankly scared.

“JJ, come on. Prentiss is h-here.” You said, trying to mask the stutter on your voice. Your heart started beating rapidly as Emily stared angrily.

A smug smile continued to spread on JJ’s face as she continued sitting still. “She definitely doesn’t look happy, right, hot stuff?” Her fingers trailed on the back of your neck.

“I … “ You finally pushed JJ up when Emily stepped back into her office.

Emily had just gotten into her office when you came jogging quickly to her, slightly breathless as you reached her office. You saw her looking down at her desk with her knuckles on it and a fierce, possessive look on her face, almost looking like a predator about to pounce. Jealousy and possessiveness were consuming her mind as she replayed in her head the sight of JJ sitting on your lap.

“Emily, it’s not what you think.”

Emily was silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the desk, her fists clenched on top of it, anger and jealousy swirling in her eyes as the image replayed in her head over and over. Her chest was rising and falling in sharp breaths of anger.

You were scared to say something but you tried, even stuttering. “E-Em, i-it wasn’t …”

She was silent for a moment more before she finally looked up to you as you nervously stumbled over your words. Her burning, jealous eyes roamed over you.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Tell me I’m the only one allowed to touch you. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you belong with me.” Emily finally spoke, rising from her desk and stalking over to you, eyes burning intensely as she prowled towards you.

“You’re the only one allowed to touch me. I’m yours. I belong with you.” You told her confidently, without stuttering, and truthfully.

“Damn right.”

Emily was about to kiss you when a knock interrupted her plans. She growled under her breath, her body tensing as her eyes darkened and she glared at the door. “Come in.”

As if to make things worse for you, it was JJ who came in.

You stared at the two women having a stare down. Emily’s hand reached possessively around your waist.

JJ ignored Emily’s heated stare as she turned to you. “I like my shirt better on you.” She sauntered towards you and pulled the hem of your turtleneck.

You could feel Emily tightening her grip on your waist, yanking your body against hers and away from JJ.

“Relax, Emily.” JJ said, letting out a small laugh.

You swallowed before taking a deep breath. “I-I think we should … all calm down and … t-talk.”

Emily’s breathing was still heavy but it slowed slightly at your words, her body still pressed firmly against yours.

But JJ only smirked at your stuttering words, staring down at you with amusement as she cocked an eyebrow. “Am I touching what’s yours, Emily?” JJ’s finger trailed on your stomach. “You really shouldn’t leave your toys hanging around so nicely. Somebody might take them.”

“JJ.” Emily growled possessively at JJ's taunting words, her fingers digging deeper into your hip, her eyes burning dark and fiercely possessive at the idea of someone trying to take you from her.

“JJ, I’m with Emily. I’m Emily’s girlfriend.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly in stunned surprise at your sudden admission, before a flicker of smile tugged at her lips, warmth and affection replacing the burning jealousy filling her eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, JJ burst out laughing and Emily furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and annoyance.

“Come on, Emily. I’m just trying to get you guys to admit this. You really don’t think I would steal your girl, right?”

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise as JJ suddenly pulled her into a hug, her body tensing at the sudden contact, but then slowly relaxed into it, and hugged JJ back.

“You … are evil, Jennifer Jareau.” You let out a deep breath, finally the tightness on your throat and chest were gone.

“I’ll get you back for this, JJ.” Emily mumbled on JJ’s ear before pulling back to which earned a laugh from the blonde.

“I’ll see you guys later. And you!” JJ pointed at you. “You better take care of my friend or I will kick your ass.”

You gave her a salute and a smile.

[autball]

Part 4 of a 5 part series about the ways harmful practices can be made to sound appealing and how to spot the differences between helpful and harmful approaches.

Sensory sensitivities are a huge part of being autistic (and sometimes ADHD, too). They can range from kind of annoying but manageable to debilitating and meltdown-inducing. They can fluctuate from day to day and situation to situation. They can seem to pop up one day out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly.

Sensory differences are dynamic, which can make them unpredictable and disruptive. Not many people want to live that way, so working on sensory desensitization with someone who has a lot of sensitivities sounds like a thing that could help. Fewer meltdowns and able to do more things? Yes please!

But as you might have guessed, there’s a giant problem with that: reducing sensitivity isn’t really a thing you can do TO someone. At least, not without inducing a trauma response or two. You can certainly get someone to learn to ignore their own body signals or pretend to be fine when they’re not, but that’s not a sensory thing. That’s a dissociation thing.

“Sensory desensitization” is usually code for exposure therapy. Exposure therapy has its uses, but addressing legitimate sensory issues isn’t one of them. And it should only be done WITH someone who can fully consent and actively participate. Coercing and/or forcing someone to interact with distressing sensory input until they stop reacting is not that.

“Sensory desensitization” also operates under the assumption that people just get used to, or habituate to, the noises and sensations around them, even ones that bother them. But studies have shown that autistic people actually don’t habituate to sensory stimuli the way non-autistic people do. It may take way longer to happen, or it may never happen at all.

You know what can and does happen? Sensory sensitivities can just kinda…change. All on their own. We grow up, our hormones change, our stress levels change, our environments change, and our sensory profiles are affected by all of those things (and more!). Sensitivities can just disappear, naturally, without any intervention. And that’s about the only thing I’d ever refer to as real sensory desensitization.

But sensory sensitivities can go any which way. Maybe new ones rear their ugly heads. Or maybe something bothers us at a level 7 one day and 2 the next, then goes all the way up to 11 next week. And then there are the ones that just stay pretty much the same, all the time, forever.

I could not handle pants for a long time as a kid, but then somewhere along the way, I could. I really couldn’t tell you when it happened. There are some foods that used to make me gag that no longer do, and there are some that I still just cannot handle. I have never been okay with things that stick to my hands, and that really hasn't changed since as far back as I can remember. 

You know what all these sensory sensitivities have in common? Someone made me “tolerate” them at some point, often repeatedly. And none of them changed (or didn’t) because of repeated exposure, but because of my natural development. All I got from forced exposure was this lousy tendency to disconnect from myself.

Sensory desensitization is just not a thing we should be trying to do to people. Sensory *integration* is a real thing that can help people, but that is a whole different animal that requires more than just exposing people to stuff that bothers them. You’ll need an OT (Occupational Therapist) with the specialized training for that. Just make sure they’re not sneaking behaviorism tactics or exposure therapy in there either (yep, the words “sensory integration” can be used to misrepresent what they’re doing, too).

It is a far better thing to help someone learn about their own sensory profile and how to manage their sensory needs than to make them ignore their own body signals. Alexithymia is not #goals.

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

[perfectsunlight]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟑]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEEEE WE CHEERED.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

sm entertainment officially announced ningning’s hiatus one month after her arrival at the rehab center.

they said she was taking time for herself in order to focus on her health and wellbeing. most people had no idea where she had gone. 

dispatch had no sightings of her for weeks. they did not even know when she was at the hospital either, to which everyone was thankful for. the company was shocked to know that the chinese idol was willing to get sent to rehab. 

however, despite the initial shock, they offered to pay for all the expenses and also said she could take all the time she needed in order to get better. 

the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you

i don't dress the same

yizhuo needed to be away from the city. she needed to be somewhere where she could find who she truly was. geoje was where the company decided to send her. it was a 4 hour drive from seoul, making it just far enough for her to get away, but also close enough for people to come visit. the city was right off the coast of busan, situated on an island connected to the mainland via bridges.

she would hate to admit it, but part of her never wanted to leave geoje. it was beautiful, and she felt like she could be herself within the sanctuary of the rehab center. it was a bit difficult at first, opening up to complete strangers about her issues, but she was willing to try her best.

that was all anyone expected of her here — to just try her best.

she had never had that environment. it felt nice to have such a change. it felt right. 

me and who you say i was yesterday

have gone our separate ways

most of the people who arrived at the center were older than she was, meaning they had no idea who she was. there was an older woman who worked as an instructor for an art class that the facility offered, and whenever ning would go in and draw, she would sing.

she had told yizhuo that she should become a singer when she gets out because her voice was outstanding. all the chinese girl could do was smile and laugh a little.

it was ironic for her. she used to love being known by everyone as “ningning from aespa”, but here she loved being unknown. when she arrived, she said she was an international student studying korean language at yonsei. 

it was a believable cover story, and no one questioned it. the anonymity was a relief. she could walk around without the weight of her idol identity. 

there were no fans to impress, no expectations to meet, no cameras capturing her every move. 

she could just be yizhuo, a young woman finding her way back to herself. 

left my living fast somewhere in the past

'cause that's for chasing cars

days at the center had a gentle rhythm. mornings began with a communal breakfast, where she’d chat with the other residents, exchanging stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. after breakfast, there were various therapy sessions. she found solace in group therapy, where she realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles. the stories she heard, though different from her own, were a reminder that everyone had their battles. in the afternoons, she often joined the art class. 

the instructor, mrs. lee was her name, was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties, with a voice that was both soothing and encouraging. she felt more of a mother to yizhuo than her own had. her words of praise and encouragement made ning feel seen, not as an idol, but as a person with potential beyond her public persona. 

it was different to have someone so maternal, but she thoroughly felt better. whenever it felt difficult to open up, she would talk to mrs. lee. she had a way of listening that made yizhuo feel understood, without judgment or pity. the idol realized all she ever needed was someone who wouldn’t pity her.

turns out open bars lead to broken hearts

and going way too far

the two became closer when the older woman found her crying after her first few sessions of therapy with the facility’s psychiatrist. mrs. lee never asked any questions, and simply just embraced the younger girl in a tight hug until yizhuo’s tears stopped. from that day forward, ning went to mrs. lee for everything.

“you're stronger than you think,” mrs. lee would often say, her aged eyes filled with kindness. “you’ve done well. only you can be the best version of yourself, for yourself.” these words resonated deeply with the young idol. she began to see her journey not as a series of failures, but as a testament to her resilience.

she was ning yizhuo, a girl who did the best she could. and that was all she could ever want to be.

take one, pour it out

it's not worth crying 'bout the things you can't erase

on days when she felt particularly overwhelmed, yizhuo would take long walks along the coast. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was therapeutic. ning had never been a fan of beaches (mostly because of the sand), but upon arriving in geoje, she fell in love with them.

at first, she would just walk to the steps that led down to the sand but not descend. she’d only lean against the railing and watch the water from above, not wanting to touch the sand. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides calmed her, the vastness of the ocean making her own problems seem smaller, more manageable. 

like tattoos and regrets

words i never meant and ones that got away

but as days turned into weeks, she found herself longing to be closer to the water. one morning, she took a deep breath and made her way down the steps. she hesitated at the bottom, toes just inches away from the sand. 

with a determined sigh, she stepped onto the beach, feeling the grainy texture beneath her feet. the initial discomfort faded as she walked along the shore, the cool water lapping at her ankles. it became a ritual for her—each day, she’d venture a little further, letting the sand and sea become her sanctuary. 

she began to see the beach not just as a place, but as a metaphor for her own journey—constantly changing, yet always moving forward.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

and took another road

the young woman found herself collecting different things from each trip to the shore. on some days it was a small rock, and others it was other things.

she often collected seashells to save them for you. they were like little pieces of happiness for her, just like you were.

sometimes, she’d even sit on a large rock by the water’s edge, watching the waves crash and retreat. one of the gifts you had given her before she left was a digital camera. without missing an evening, ning took photos of every sunset. 

it reminded her of you, after all. it was only fair of her to show you.

the beach was quiet. ningning hated the quiet before. now, she loved it.

quiet meant she could breathe. she had control of her thoughts and emotions. she no longer let her mind bully her.

turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon

there's somewhere else to go, oh

visitors were allowed to come once a week, meaning most of the time, her members all came to visit her together. of course, she didn’t have a visitor every week, but sm made sure to keep these visits out of the public’s prying eyes when you or her members did come and visit. 

karina usually brought her new stationary, minjeong brought snacks, and aeri would bring her new sd cards for her camera or clothes for the seasonal changes. although ning was away from everyone she knew, she never truly felt lonely.

she had made peace with her isolation. however, the only person she constantly missed was you. 

she’d never thought of ever writing a letter, but she was over the moon when she saw you had written her one a few weeks after she was sent to the facility. mrs. lee teased yizhuo by saying she’d never seen her really smile until she saw her reading the letter. ningning missed you more than she could understand. 

it wasn’t a bad feeling of longing either, but rather a feeling of curiosity for what you were doing at the moment. before she had left seoul, you had mentioned to yizhuo that you had broken up with aeri the night she was hospitalized. 

ningning didn’t need to ask any questions about it, she knew why it happened. you cared about ning. more than anyone else, or anything else. 

and she cared about you, too. more than anyone else, or anything.

i know i used to be crazy

messed up, but, god, was it fun

after being in rehab for 6 months, ningning was finally comfortable enough to return to seoul. 

on her last day there, mrs. lee had brought her a gift. it was a beautifully wrapped box with a note attached to it. the note read, “for the journey ahead. with love, mrs. lee.” ning carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a set of watercolor paints in a case with her initials on it.

mrs. lee smiled warmly. “i thought you might want to continue expressing yourself through art. remember, these are tools for your journey, just as much as your voice is.” tears welled up in yizhuo’s eyes as she hugged the older woman tightly. 

mrs. lee must have known who she really was. the idol decided not to question it.

“thank you for everything,” she whispered. “i’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.” mrs. lee simply patted her back gently. “go out there and show the world who you have always been. and never forget, you’re always welcome back here if you need to escape.”

i know i used to be wild

that's 'cause i used to be young

the facility threw the young idol a send off ceremony the day before she was leaving. there were games and delicious food, and even karaoke. naturally, yizhuo stole the show with her voice. mrs. lee had been taking photos and videos for the chinese girl on the camera you got her. even though rehab was tough, ning didn’t ever want to forget her time here. 

“i’ve learned a lot here. thank you all for helping me remember who i truly am.” yizhuo said with a warm smile as she bowed, concluding her parting speech.

the applause that followed was heartfelt, and ningning felt a sense of closure and gratitude. the friends she had made and the experiences she had shared in geoje were now a part of her story, a chapter she would cherish forever. 

as the evening wound down, yizhuo mingled with the staff and residents, sharing hugs and promises to keep in touch. later that night, she found herself back at the beach for one last walk. the moonlight danced on the waves, creating a serene scene. she took out the camera and captured a few final shots, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

with a deep breath, she whispered a goodbye to the ocean, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. she was ready to move forward, but she would always carry a piece of this place with her. 

those wasted nights are not wasted

i remember every one

sm entertainment had expressed their excitement in regards to yizhuo feeling well enough to return to seoul. she was a bit nervous for facing the public and their questions to where she had been, but one thing the idol had learned was boundaries.

she didn’t have to tell the world where she had been. only the people who needed to know, knew.

ningning didn’t bring her phone with her to the facility. it was something the facility had requested before her initial arrival. it was quite the laugh when the chinese girl showed up with a mp3 player. however, the idol was thankful she downloaded as many songs as she could have because the upcoming 4 hour drive would be a bit more boring without it.

a car pulled up to the curb, and for a moment ning was confused. she couldn’t see who was inside because of the tinted windows, but when the passenger side window was lowered, she couldn’t help but smile.

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

you smiled and ning swore she was about to throw up from excitement. she practically bolted inside with her backpack and duffle, almost hitting her head on the roof when she got inside.

“hey, stranger,” you greeted her warmly, your eyes twinkling with joy. “ready to go home?” the chinese girl nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. she had missed you, she had missed seoul, she had missed her members.

 “more than ready.”

you tell me time has done changed me

that's fine, i've had a good run

“you didn’t forget anything, right?” you teased as you set the car into drive. the idol laughed at your remark before pretending to feign thought. “hm,” she hummed as she tapped her finger against her chin. “just this.”

ningning leaned over the center console and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

your cheeks flushed with a warm pink, and you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes playfully. “definitely not something to forget,” you replied, feeling a happy flutter in your chest. with one hand on the steering wheel, you took the other and intertwined your hand in the idol’s.

“let’s go home.”

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫.

a/n: WE CHEERED ! thank you for all of the support for this series, i love u all <3

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

[navree]

still on this, THE THING IS the bones of this aren't even actually that bad.

bruce has done something horrendous, something objectively heinous, to his child, and to his child who has already suffered so egregiously in such a short lifespan (until they start letting dick grayson be a man in his thirties jason cannot be older than early twenties, like, college age early twenties, at max he's only barely legally allowed to drink). and he has the perfect out he could use if he wanted to deflect responsibility, it was zur, it wasn't really him, so he cannot really be faulted for what he's done. but he doesn't take it, he chooses the hard path but the right path, and takes responsibility. he acknowledges that even if he wasn't in his right mind, it was still him, a version of him anyway, that did something really, really bad to someone he's sworn to love and protect and who did not deserve anything like that. bruce taking the ownership for his shitty decisions rather than trying to find the loophole, that's good. and it can even work with jason attempting to brush it off, like i mentioned before, jason is canonically a forgiving person who does not prioritize himself, and will continuously turn the other cheek to those who hurt him if they happen to be people he loves. i can absolutely see jason trying to give bruce that out (though not with that fucking therapy speak bullshit, jason todd has never been to therapy because people with healthy coping mechanisms don't create the fucking red hood plan at the big age of sixteen).

the thing is, the thing that could have made this good but didn't because instead they decided to continue making this story shitty from start to finish, is that bruce can't take it. it's good that bruce is owning what happened and bearing the responsibility and referring to it as "what i did to you" rather than passing it off in a bid to get jason to move on. and it can work that jason would try to go "it's fine it wasn't really you" about it. but you lose any good when bruce agrees with him and just goes "yeah you're right. anyway!" what's the point of bruce taking responsibility for a horrific deed in a symbol of growth (and we know it's supposed to be about growth because he prefaces it with talking about how his kids are his family and he needs to acknowledge that to them and let them know what they mean to him) if it's immediately smoothed over? it's utterly meaningless, he might as well have just told jason that he can't be blamed and jason could have just nodded and agreed. the bones were there but then ya fucked it, it literally doesn't mean anything at all. it's the narrative equivalent of going "i have a lit stick of dynamite" only for someone to immediately pour water on it. it has no impact now and it loses any catharsis for the readers, let alone deflating that emotional beat in narrative and making everything just seem stupid. even if jason attempts forgiveness, it doesn't work if bruce accepts it. he needed to say that even if jason is trying to absolve him, he still did it, he still needs to own up to it, jason is still entitled to whatever feelings about it, and he still needs to fix it along with actively working for a redemption and acknowledging his responsibility in that regard. not just go "yeah you're right it's in the past hakuna matata never gonna blame myself for my own shortcomings ever again" and promptly move on to more bullshit.

and like, you're nerfing your own ability to write good stories in the future! for one, it's good if bruce grows from this whole debacle, and does consistently put effort for future issues into not just reminding himself he needs to acknowledge his family, but that he can't take the easy way out and he needs to own up to things even when they were done when he wasn't totally himself. for two, you could have a story where bruce doesn't just have to atone, he has to actually fix his mistake. jason's got this chip in him, bruce has acknowledged that this is something HE did and needs to take responsibility for, have him be the one to fix it! have him be the one to try and find a solution, a way to undo it or nerf it or get it out. have him work to fix this issue that he caused, have him be the one to attempt to mend it and do right by someone he did wrong.

not to mention, it can work from a narrative perspective. batman is a detective, have the search for a cure/fix/whatever be a detective story. false leads, dead ends, red herrings, clues that need to be uncovered, new twists and turns. and for another thing, it works to have bruce try to right a wrong he did to jason specifically. bruce's big failure, in his mind, his greatest unforgivable sin, is that he did not save jason. that jason needed his help and bruce failed him, bruce wasn't there. so it makes sense that, when given the opportunity to make up for that in a way, to be there when he's needed, to help him when he needs it, to essentially make it in time in a way he couldn't on the day jason died, of course he'd throw himself into it with 110%. of course he'd decide that, this time, he won't fail. jason is hurting and in need of help because of him but this time it won't end in the worst way imaginable. this time, bruce is gonna fix it. it would make for great storytelling, and good character moments for bruce AS a character.

but i never get the things i want so instead i got some decent legs to build on that were immediately hacked out from under me in the same fucking panel and the chip thing is likely gonna be solved off-page without any real introspection into bruce doing this really horrible thing to jason or growing from his fuckups or growing in his relationship with jason or jason dealing with this and the two of them actually putting in some work to come back together strong than ever and build a new, better baseline as bruce accepts accountability and jason offers forgiveness once it's earned, for once in his life. and this entire plotline will literally never be brought up again except to explain why tim has a clone-damian suit that looks ugly as shit.

[etherealsworldvision]

What is a step you can take toward your own well-being?

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Marine Conservation Institute. They’re a non-profit organization working to defend our ocean by advocating for stronger protection and to save the ocean for all of us and future generations. If you’re interested do check them out and if you’d like to further support this organization click donate.

New song discovery for the reading: Elijah Waters - Perfectly Silent

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings!

Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.

[ Collective Messages: 234 (or 2:34? I’m not religious but for some reason I got this?); Leaving the past behind; Elevating; Patience; Timing; Learning to walk again; Stumbling; Material abundance; Getting news about material/job offers; Your confirmation is Yes; Positive changes; Water wheel finally turning; Think before speaking; Rainbows and Sunshine. Mars Placements.]

Pile 1

“My head is like a washing machine. Tried to wash away these thoughts, still can’t get clean.”

Cards: 9 of Wands Reversed; Emperor; 10 of Cups Reversed; Empress Reversed; 2 of Hearts; Queen of Clubs; Six of Clubs

[ Messages: Stubborn; Self-Sabotage; Fear of Change; Overthinking; Stagnation; “Just Do It”; Red Sox; Baseball; Taking initiative; Ares; Aries placement; Coffee; Accepting your heart; Janine Teagues; “Things will go wrong whether you’re doing what you want or not. For me, regrets are always harder to live with than consequences. I don’t regret […] living my life to the fullest […] it’ll be alright, trust me.”– Mr. Johnson ( Abbott elementary S3EP14 timestamp 16:10 - 17:08). ]

The first thing standing out to me is your emotional and mental health. You may be experiencing a time where you’re unable to take care of yourself. This isn’t to shame you, I just want to acknowledge that you’re already doing enough. If no one said this to you today; I am so proud of you. Another thing I do want to say is: please reach out to your support system or check in with yourself. Honestly you don’t need to prove anything to be deserving of love and happiness. It’s okay to want and need something that emotionally fulfills you.

I feel like this pile is very independent and an over-thinker which can cause burnout, as well as aiding in self-sabotaging tendencies. For some reason I feel like you may “psych yourself out of it,” meaning you’re so excited about something only to get worried before having a chance. I know it’s a hard pill to swallow but it needs to be said. Self-sabotaging and overthinking is what’s holding you back. You may be experiencing Imposter Syndrome and Control issues as a result.

With the emperor, empress, and queen of clubs here — you are very much qualified to go after what you want. It does look like you're someone who knows what to do, is aware of the things you need, and what you want. I don’t know if it is a job or related to your social life, however, there’s this feeling of being overqualified for something or feeling deserving of more/better.

There is also a confirmation here that things will get better and you will get what you want. However, it is you who decides to go after it. I do recommend looking up books about self-sabotaging or YouTube videos about this topic. If you are in therapy, maybe this is a subject you’d like to bring up?

A good question to ask yourself is: What have I always accepted as true that turned out to be false?

So that’s all I’m getting. I know this reading is short and straightforward. I would like to say thank you for taking your time reading this and I hope this reading resonates with you.

Pile 2

[ Cards: King of Swords; The Devil Reversed; Page of Wands; Queen of Cups; King of Spades; 3 of Hearts; Jack of Diamonds; 5 of Hearts ]

Messages: Retreating; Refuting; Verbally Vindictive; 3H Mars; Leo or Cancer Mars; Fire and Water Placements; Trauma Dumping; Changes in Communication; Online Regina George Trope; Air Signs (Specifically Suns); Birthdays; Online Personality; Healing; Dictator - Rei Ami; YouTube commentary or essays about online ( trends )

I feel a bit overwhelmed when reading this pile. As if I have to be someone I’m not? I feel that social media is really coming in, especially TikTok/Twitter discourses. There’s this sense of having to upkeep and over consume to be considered a: ✨main character✨ otherwise “you’re just not cool and an utterly boring, basic loser, yuck 🤢 🤮, You’re not even a side character yikes.” /J (I am using sarcasm and joking).

For some of you I get the feeling that this could be stemming from social media addiction, others it may be, that you are embodying the online personality. Over all this just feels like a huge weight on your shoulders or a ball and chain on your leg. In an odd way; maybe your phone or whatever you use is home to you? It’s where you can express yourself via feelings, personality, opinions, etc. This is in no way to shame you at all. I also use social media and so does the next person, right?

There’s this need to give yourself a balance again. To double check with yourself on how you’re feeling after using social media. I feel most of you are ready to gain control of your media consumption or at least contemplate the effects it has on you. Taking a step back from social media — maybe trying out a hobby or just reconnecting to something that makes you feel like you may help.

Also if you want YouTube recommendations on over consuming let me know, I can send you the links. The number one takeaway is that it’s okay to be yourself. You being you is main character energy. No amount of products, social media influenced personality, or aesthetics can take that away from you. You are enough, I promise you that. It’s okay to want to change but if you’re feeling influenced by something that isn’t true to you then you might want to ponder on that and ask if that is really what you resonate with.

A good question to ask yourself is: What is one small step I can take today towards a goal that feels out of reach?

That’s all I’m getting for you pile 2! If you stuck around this far I’d like to say thank you so much. I greatly appreciate it and hope you resonate with this reading.

Pile 3

[ Cards: 4 of Cups, Ace of Pentacles Reversed; Five of Pentacles Reversed; Queen of Cups; 9 of Diamonds; 6 of Diamonds; Queen of Diamonds; Ace of Hearts ]

Messages; Open mind and heart; Chihiro by Billie Eilish; Money Growth; Finances; Earth and Water placements; Fear of Missing Out; Take out; Diners; Over consumption; Capitalism; Low Income; 111; Unemployment

( Tw: financial experience and control issues. Disclaimer: for some reason I feel called to talk about my financial experience and how I dealt with this. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for in my experience? )

So I had been unemployed for two years then found a job for 3 months then unemployed again for a year. When I tell you, I searched for a job everywhere, I mean everywhere! I applied everywhere and every time. I even tried to save what I could and budget with what I had (I live with my family and occasionally would get money. I understand/am aware of the privilege and support I have. I’m also very grateful and appreciate them)

I yelled at the universe, cried, and had sleepless nights. However, what helped me (besides living with my family) through this tough time is to focus on things I can control while applying for jobs. That’s what honestly made me stay afloat. So maybe this is what can help you during this trying time?

Finding a (free) third place meaning: the park, public library, or just a walk may help ease a bit of tension. Sometimes journaling or confiding with someone will help as well. Doing something that helps you remain in the present and eases the anxiousness could help. I know this may not be what you were looking for and I wish I can give you financial advice but that is not my forte.

There is only so much control we have when it comes to finances and it is certainly not a lesson from the universe or it’s not happening to you or happening for you. I don't care what they say, it is not a lesson! It is just an unfortunate situation to be in, it just is. Like yes you can learn from it but it is not something (pre)destined or “contract” written. It just happens and we live in late stage capitalism. That’s me being real with you.

So yeah, I’m sorry for the little tangent. What I am getting is to fill your emotional cup for the meantime. Yes, do what you need to do with your finances; finding a job or to save/budget money whatever you can do to the best of your abilities.

You just have to remember to do things that are within your control and to not neglect your emotional/mental health. If singing, drawing, talking, or simple things like cloud watching helps you stay present and makes you feel in control then by all means do that.

I’m not saying to use escapism but I am saying to do your best to emotionally check in with yourself from time to time. Also if you have a support system do talk with them or be around them. A good question to ask yourself is: “Who do I feel most myself around? Why?”

This is all that I’m getting for the reading. I hope this reading resonates. Again, I am so sorry if I made things worse or didn’t help! Please remember to check in with yourself — take care :)

[tthesongofachilless]

F1 DRIVERS AS TEACHERS

Max Verstappen - Geography Teacher

— Randomly quizzes students about which country is in which continent

— However he can take jokes

— Randomly trauma dumps (one student even asked him if they should call Logan)

Sergio Perez - Spanish Teacher #1

— " You used Google translate for that... tsk tsk.. "

— Oral assessments every friday no questions asked

— He and Fernando talk in Spanish in the teachers lounge to avoid eavesdroppers

Charles Leclerc - Music Teacher

— Has a pictures of his dog as his pfp on Google

— Forces everyone to listen to his newest piece before class ends

— Rumoured to have kissed Max outside of school (he denies it)

Carlos Sainz - Spanish teacher #2

— Seen teasing Lando during lunch and blushing

— Hates basically every student who refuses to learn any Spanish

— His favourites tease him about Lando in Spanish and he curses at them to stop

Lewis Hamilton - Art Teacher

— Really passionate about his job

— " Did you hear about Logan and Oscar? " " WHAT?.. oh... what..? I can't discuss this with my students. "

— He actually gives you tips on how to improve your work and doesn't mess up your work by drawing over it!

George Russell - English teacher #1

— " Girls can we please put the eyelash curler away. And the makeup brush... and the hairbrush, gosh how do you fit this all into your pockets!? "

— Deffo dating Alex but doesn't admit to it

— Homework every single week, will report to your parents if not handed in

Lando Norris - PE teacher

— He doesn't know himself how he got the job

— Basically lets the students play dodgeball all year

— Giggles and kicks his feet whenever Carlos pops by to say hi

Oscar Piastri - English teacher #2

— Has been seen napping in the teachers lounge multiple times, Logan sometimes acts as his pillow

— " Guys can we not.. Nando is going to kill me if he finds out I'm giving out sweets. "

— Voted most gay teacher by the students

Fernando Alonso - Head of Year

— Brings the teachers snacks to their lessons

— " What the skibidi .. " " Mr. Alonso never say that again. "

— He deffo doesn't have favourite teachers (wink wink)

Lance Stroll - Woodwork teacher

— Definitely not suited for his job

— Just eats his lunch in the middle of lessons because he doesn't wanna be with the other teachers (Estaban isn't there)

— Watches on as students try and hammer in screws and does nothing about it

Daniel Ricciardo - Science Teacher

— He only applied because he wants to do cool experiments

— " Follow the instructions. " " Sir these are in french.. " " uhmm.. does anyone wanna watch the martian? "

— Everyone loves him

Yuki Tsunoda - Food Tech

— " That looks like if Mr. Norris tried cooking. "

— Randomly gives out snacks while he's doing instructions

— Disses the other teachers but when someone mentions Pierre he gets all excited asking how his lessons are going

Kevin Magnussen - History/Religion Teacher

— He just wants to go home after the first hour everyday

— He has shelves dedicated to historical Lego builds

— Has no favourites (" You always let Fred go early. " " Fred is doing the work. ")

Nico Hulkenberg - Cover Teacher

— Laughs at dad jokes that weren't even funny

— Probably wants to apply for a different job but can't

— Dressed up as the hulk for Halloween

Valtteri Bottas - Maths Teacher

— " Guys.. I know you miss Kimi but I'm basically him but, more ass, you know? "

— Bff's with Lewis and Zhou

— Let's the class play blooket every Friday instead of work

Zhou Guanyu - Textiles Teacher

— Voted most fashionable teacher of the year

— Randomly gives out sweets to his favourite students

— Actually puts work into grading

Alex Albon - Science Teacher

— " Sir, are you dating Mr. Russell? " " I have a girlfriend. " " Show her then!! " " No. "

— Never gives back tests

— Gossips with George and Lando in the hallways

Logan Sargeant - Guidance Counselor/Cover Teacher

— He needs therapy himself instead of giving students it

— Follows Oscar around like a lost puppy, it's rumoured he's absolutely whipped for Oscar but is too shy to do anything about it

— His favourites edit him and Oscar to 'Lacy' and he can't hear the song anymore without crying

Pierre Gasly - French Teacher #1

— Him and Estaban have BEEF

— stares into your soul when you awnser a question

— " But the other class didn't have to do this! " " That's because Mr. Ocon doesn't want his students to learn proper french. "

Estaban Ocon - French Teacher #2

— " I don't understand what I did to Mr. Gasly. " " You snitched on him giving out sweets, sir. " " I don't see the issue. "

— Only talks in french in the lessons

— He himself gives out sweets and such

[rookfeatherrambles]

Hey Tumblr, its been a hell of a few days for me. For those that don't know, on Sunday (June 2nd), I was in a car accident that really traumatized me, and I don't know if its going to affect me for another week or another 10 years. Details under the cut, as well as pictures of my injuries (no blood but bruises and scrapes, will be tagged appropriately).

My friend came up from Washington state to see me and wanted me to meet her at the hotel she was staying at. No problem. I'd just take an uber, from where I was located it would be an under 10$ trip. The uber gets there, I introduce myself, I place my purse into the car, and as I'm getting in, my earbud falls out and bounces off into who knows where. So I pause, one foot in the vehicle, one foot out, as I'm sort of stooping to look for this missing earbud. (It was important to me, more on that later). The back seat door is still wide open, but then, the driver decides to start driving. My foot is dragged back and twisted, and the rest of my body follows, and I'm screaming as I hit the ground and feel the wheel going over my leg. I think my first thought was that it had been ripped from my body. I was dragged a few feet down the street while passengers screamed to the driver to stop the car, and I don't think I've ever felt that kind of pain before. My throat is raw from screaming and crying. The car stops, people come and the driver tries to control the situation. All I ask through my sobs is 'is my leg still there?' and yes, miraculously, it is still there. I'm offered hands, but I lift myself up under my own power, extremely in shock. I'm not bleeding. Just scraped to hell with a tire track on my skin like a brand and terrified. Other parts of me also were scraped up, but I didn't notice until later. People are talking to me, all I want to do is be with my friend, so I look the driver in the face and tell him to take me to my destination, where I meet up with my friend. I am in shock all night. The driver asked me if I was okay, and upon me saying yeah, fine (I was not fine) he tells me he's not going to report this to Uber because its just a few scrapes. Anyway, I visit with my friend, and under guidence of my great roommate, I go to a walk in clinic and wait for nigh on 4 hours to get my injuries documented and get checked out. The verdict? Whiplash, no broken bones. I ache like I'm 90 but that's to be expected. I'm off work for a week, I'm given a 200$ physiotherapy prescription, but unless I want to pay out of pocket, I need to contact uber and start an insurance claim. I do that. They tell me they're going to put me in touch with an insurer. I don't believe them. I get a consultation with a personal injury lawyer set up for this friday, and now we come to here and now. I need headphones to cope with sensory hell outside of my apartment, and they were not on me when I left, so they're long gone. 180$ earbuds. Truthfully, I have this gut feeling that Uber is going to do their best to discredit me and what happened, just like that driver. I can't get into a car now without remembering that agony of my leg being crushed under the wheel, and when I'm in any vehicle now, I'm plagued by panic and horrid images of gruesome demise. I genuinely think I might have PTSD, though I'll be looking into a formal diagnosis when i can get to it. When I can AFFORD it. I hate to do this so soon after asking about my back, but I'm out of work for I don't know how long now, I don't know how many physio appointments or THERAPY appointments i will need to get over this. I need to recoup my headphones, I need to get groceries delivered now (which is really pricy), I need to keep myself afloat until Uber decides to (or decides not to) make amends. I don't even know if they fired the driver. I just want to feel safe and I just want something done. Anyway, if you can donate, please do. I know I'm just the silly AU person (one of many) but I have to ask. I have no other choice. I'm just sorry I don't have anything to give in return. Paypal.me/xcannibal Proof of injuries below.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Johnny has a good day.

Tw: ableism; implied sexual assault

#

That night you dream about fucking the two neighbors in 5C.

It’s good sex, too. You can tell by the sweat slicking your skin and the ache in your thighs. You are naked on the big one’s lap, his huge hands on your hips while he bounces you on his cock. Behind you, the shorter one loops his one arm around your waist and grinds his cock against your bare arse. 

“Did Jesus send ye?” his voice rasps against the sensitive side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room to suck and kiss and bite. Then, as his hand slips down to tease where you need a soft touch the most: “Are you gonna finish me off?” 

The one beneath you cums, a flood of warmth deep within your aching cunt. His groans have you teetering on the edge of your cut of the pleasure. You lean down to kiss him, but before your mouths can meet, hands grip your hips and lift you free—his cock slides out with a wet rush of fluids, leaving you feeling cracked open and empty.  

Your boyfriend passes you on to his friends who are waiting for their turn with you, and then it is no longer a dream, but a memory. 

#

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for physical therapy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are for cognitive rehabilitation. Both of these are paid for by the British government and accomplished in the ‘comfort’ of Johnny’s own home. Like that’s supposed to help; he’s going to have to sweat (literally) and bleed (probably figuratively), but as long as it’s on his own carpet, that’s quite all right. Johnny isn’t sure which he hates more, the physical or cognitive rehab. Both hurt, just in different places; one hurts the stump of his arm, the muscles of his shoulders and neck, his fake knee. The other hurts his pride, leaves him tired and second guessing his broken mind. 

The other scares him. It’s one thing to lose his arm—one terrible, traumatizing thing. But the idea that he’s going (or gone) simple is too much to take.

The cognitive rehabilitation therapist’s name is Anna. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and sloppy buns that Johnny fantasizes about gripping in his fist and throttling her with during their less productive sessions. 

By sessions, he means they play games together. Simon sits on the sofa in the living room pretending not to watch. He thinks he’s so fucking clever, turning his pages even, but Johnny knows. Simon’s gaze is a tangible thing, as physical as a touch, like a finger running up the back of his neck. There’s no hiding from it. You don’t get a name like Ghost without raising the hairs on some people’s arms with just your eyes. 

“It’s your turn, Johnny.” 

“I fuckin’ know it. Sorry—sorry.” 

Anna puts up a hand to stall his sorries. She is younger than he is; shouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t that make this less painful? “Take your time.” 

It’s a simple matching game. There are less than a dozen tiles left on the board, and Johnny has seen most of them two or three times by now. He keeps forgetting their placements, even though he is burdened with the memory of having chosen them. 

His shaking fingers reach for a tile…a red car. Sweat breaks out on his brow. He’s seen this fucking Red Car no less than six times. His fingers hover over the board, moving from one tile to the next. Here? Or here? If he sees the Rose again, he’ll lose his head; he knows it. He can feel his blood pressure rising like the mercury in a thermometer, up up and away, blackness eating at the edge of his vision.  

Finally, with absolutely no idea where the other red car is, he picks a tile at random. 

Red Car. 

Johnny shouts out in triumph, holding up the tile for Simon to see. Even Anna—eternally unimpressed Anna—gives him a smile, infected by his joy. 

“Good job—now do it again.” 

Groaning, he picks up another tile. 

Rose. 

#

“Come lay down with me,” he says to Ghost after taking two of the green, oval pills that are the only things which take the edge off his pain. They make him so fucking tired, though—perhaps that’s their secret; if they can’t take the pain away, they’ll at least help him sleep through it. 

“Alright,” says Simon, putting his book down. He doesn’t bother marking his place; they both know he wasn’t reading it.  

The two of them slip into the bedroom. It isn’t much: a bed against the southern wall, the doors leading out onto the balcony—blinds pulled shut to keep out any hopeful rays of sunshine, a desk piled high with medical bills that the government will front. 

Johnny is pretty good about getting his shirt off with just one arm. He reaches up and back, gripping the collar, and tugs it off over his head in a smooth, fluid motion. He’s thinner after his three-month stint first in the hospital and then in inpatient rehabilitation, but he still looks good. 

He hates the stump where his arm used to be, but today he doesn’t even care. It’s a good day, a purely tolerable day. He presses himself against Simon and kisses him, the first true-kiss he can remember giving him since the accident, though his memory is not what it used to be. Simon’s hands—large and warm and strong—settle on his waist pulling him closer. It’s desperate and messy, too much teeth and tongue, neither of them quite settling into the old easy dance they used to be capable of; likely because they aren’t the same people anymore. 

“Fuck, I want you,” Johnny pants against Simon’s feral mouth.

“You can’t,” Simon grits out, dragging Johnny’s hardened cock against his own. 

“Like hell I can’t!” Though…already his knee throbs, a deep ache punctuated by glass-like shards of sharpness when he bends it. He could take it—but it would hurt. But fuck, what doesn’t hurt these days? “I need you, Ghost.” 

Simon grips him by the hair which has grown out too long and badly needs trimmed. He tugs back til Johnny’s neck pops uncomfortably. “You’ll take what I give you,” Simon says, sounding on the verge of madness, at least as desperate as Johnny feels. 

“‘n what? I can’t beg for more?” 

“Oh, you can beg,” says Simon darkly. 

He pins Johnny against the sliding doors of the balcony, rustling the blinds around his body. Knees bent to bring them to just the right height, he fists both their cocks in one large hand, his face buried in Johnny’s neck, muffling groans against his skin.

“Yes,” Johnny gasps, his nails digging into Simon’s back. “Yes, jus’ like that—fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—“

Simon keeps jerking off his spent cock well after Johnny cums, even after he begins whining and pulling back, shoulders thudding against the glass doors behind him. Ghost makes Johnny fuck his fist through the sensitivity until he cums too, both their seed slickening his hand and turning the sound of his handjob filthy-wet. 

“Thank you,” Johnny sighs, blissed out. He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his stump or his knee or his head or anywhere. Maybe it’s the pills, but maybe it’s Ghost. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they haven’t fucked up their relationship beyond all repair, that they’re still capable of loving one another like this. “I needed that. 

Simon feeds two fingers soaked in cum past Johnny’s full lips, relishing the way his hot mouth sucks the digits clean. He admits: “So did I.” 

He cleans them both up and they curl up on the bed together for Johnny’s afternoon nap—the doctors say all the sleep he needs is good for his brain. 

Simon doesn’t intend to fall asleep. But he does. 

And when he wakes, Johnny is not there beside him. 

#

You’re just thinking how cold it is out on the balcony, wondering if it is worth it to risk going back inside for a sweater, when the balcony doors from 5C open and out steps the man you almost hit with your car. He looks likely to be cold as well, wearing only a t-shirt and loose pants, his feet bare against the concrete. 

A cigarette is tucked in the corner of his mouth, unlit. He gapes at you, and it falls to the balcony floor. Glancing behind himself into the darkness of his apartment, he shuts the door with careful tenderness before bending down with a wince to pick up his cigarette. 

 The sleeve of his missing arm dangles innocuously. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.” 

“Sorry,” you say on instinct. It’s ingrained in you; a lifetime’s worth of apologies. “I can go in and give you some privacy.” 

“World’s big enough for two,” Johnny says coolly. There are chairs out here, but he doesn’t sit. Instead he leans against the doors with his good side and pretends to look out. It’s a lovely view of the parking lot. You do the same, except you can see the spot from here where you almost hit him with your car, and it makes your stomach turn. Speaking of: “Sorry about all that in the parking lot. My temper got the best o’ me.” 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you admit. “I was distracted. I can’t say it enough, I’m so—so sorry.” 

“Water under the bridge,” he says. He holds out the only hand he has left. “Johnny MacTavish.” 

You hold out your own left hand, shaking via air from the distance between your balconies. When you give him your name, he mutters it under his breath two, three, four times. 

“I’m going to forget that,” he warns you at length with a sad little laugh, fiddling with the unlit cigarette still in his hand. “It’s not you, it’s me.” 

“It’s alright,” you forgive. “It’s pretty forgettable.” 

Johnny frowns, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and working his hand into his pocket. His accent is so sweet to listen to, syrupy and dropping the consonants off of his words as he assures you: “Didn’t say that, did I, lass? Don’t get twisted.” 

Mollified and embarrassed in equal measure at his simple admonishment, you duck your head. 

“Got a broken brain,” he says in explanation, reaching up to tap the cigarette against the scars at his temple. “Forgot one of my own sisters’ names on the phone last week and she wept like a bairn. In my defense, I have several of them.” 

“I forget people’s names and I don’t have a head injury,” you say. 

Johnny snorts softly, the sound carried away by the wind.

He withdraws a lighter, one of the cheap disposable ones you can buy beside the registers at gas stations. His hand shakes as he tries to spin the sparkwheel once, twice, thrice, but no dice. Johnny takes a deep, slow breath, like a little boy trying not to lose his temper. He tries again, the familiar noise of steel rasping on steel, but no spark. 

You wait, patiently, eyes turned out toward the parking lot as he begins muttering curses beneath his breath. Anxiety itches beneath your skin. His building anger is a tangible thing in the air like heat thrown off by a lit flame or the smell of burnt rubber, tires squealing in the parking lot as you slam on the breaks. A man’s anger is familiar to you. It predicts pain. Your skin flashes hot and then cold, and you are just about to make a polite escape inside when: 

“Can you catch?” he asks, sending your gaze swerving to him from the parking lot.

“Can I—? Fuck!” you throw your hands up just in time, scrambling for the lighter even though he only tosses it underhanded like an easy pitch for a tee-baller. It slips from one of your sweaty hands to the other like a slapstick comedy routine, but it doesn’t clatter to the concrete nor does it fall off the balcony altogether. Holding it in your hand, you light it easily to make sure it works, missing the hungry, bitter expression that comes over his face when you do. “How? I can’t reach you from here.” 

“We can meet in the middle.” 

You can’t. Even with him outstretching from his side of the balcony and you from your own, there is a good half a meter of distance between you both. You can’t help but remember the other man’s words—I just want one fucking cigarette without worrying about him taking a swan dive off the balcony. 

“Be careful,” you admonish when Johnny slips a little, his ribs digging into the iron-wrought railing. He doesn’t have good balance, you realize. Does losing an arm fuck something like that up? The answer you don’t know: it fucks up everything. Taking a deep breath, you glance over the rail and take note of how high you are from the ground. High enough for a healthy splat should you fall…

“Forget it,” he says morosely, his brows low. He is the picture of dejection, a kicked dog. “Doctors say ‘m not supposed to smoke anymore anyway.” 

“Don’t they say that to everyone? Just—hang on.” Tucking the lighter into your pocket, you throw one leg over the railing. 

“What are yeh—you-uuu fucking nutter,” he laughs as you test the stability of the railing. It doesn’t shift or creak at all under your weight. Heart in your throat, you lift your other leg over, feet lodged in the narrow space between the railing and the concrete floor. Gripping the rail with a tight fist, you let your weight lean into the space between your balconies, reaching into your pocket to remove the lighter and flick it to life. 

Johnny looks like he could laugh or cry or both, stretching out his shaking arm so you can light the cigarette and then quickly bringing it to his mouth to suck it to life. 

“Yer crazy,” he says breathlessly, words tinted with smoke as he watches you scramble back over the railing and to safety. 

The sliding doors open. For a moment, you mistake the sound for being closer than it is—for being your boyfriend finally noticing how long you’ve been gone and coming to find you. He’s going to find you out here with Johnny and the same arguments will be born all over again—arguments about your disloyalty.

But it’s Johnny’s doors which slide open. The taller man comes out, the circles under his eyes standing out darkly  against his pale skin in the late afternoon light. At the sight of Johnny, an expression of raw, poignant relief comes over his face. 

Johnny drops the cigarette over the ledge of the balcony, face sheepish. 

“Was just meeting our bonnie neighbor,” says Johnny, slipping his arm around the other man’s waist. If there was any doubt left of what they were to each other, it disappears: seeing them together, you can see the magnetism that draws them together. They act like plants which turn toward the sunlight, except they are the sunlight. The bitterness inside you rises up in the back of your throat. “Grateful to be doing it without a car in between us. This is Simon.” 

“Nice to meet you,” says Simon. 

“You too,” you offer, like perfect strangers. 

You don’t find the lighter still in the pocket of your pants until later, when it is past midnight as you are collecting your clothes from the floor, aching between your legs and raw-eyed from crying. You flick the sparkwheel, watching the flame come alive. Glancing behind you, you make sure your boyfriend is fast asleep before creeping to your dresser drawers, opening the one with your socks, and shoving the lighter towards the back as far as you can. 

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #5021:

I’m not even that into villain stories (I literally like ONE villain enough so for me to say I’m a fan) and still, I can’t with this mindset:

"it’s okay to like problematic things BUT… not only is it important to know they’re problematic, we also must know the ways in which they’re problematic. It’s the responsible thing to do."

You know? The human’s brain is a mystery… and sometimes, I just want to watch or read some effed up thing for the sake of it being effed up. It’s so tiring the idea of people having to consume “problematic” content only and as long as they do it ~critically~.

Now, it’s important to point out that I’m an adult. I’m in favor of teenagers being supervised when watching some things or parent not even letting kids watch something that’s not for their age. With that in mind, we as adults are old enough to know better and if you don’t… well, that’s not on fiction and maybe you need therapy or something (not saying it in a bad way, I believe we all need therapy as much as we need to go to the doctor).

[thehusbandoden]

He Doesn't Realize How Much he Needs You Until You're Gone Part One- Dabi

A/n: 100th writing I've posted :3

I hope you like it haha.

General info:

Genre: pure angst \\ wc: 2,425 \\ female reader \\ posted: 06/06/24

Warnings!: arguing, neglect, pure angst, crying, yelling, screaming, hurt, feeling betrayed, injuries (reader gets burned- not by Dabi), pushing your partner away (both parties), feeling worthless, feelings being discarded, mention of therapy, thoughts of leaving, thoughts of death, fear of a loved one dying, numbing your emotions, Dabi raging (burning things), leaving, partner being very tsundere, mention of blood (Dabi's tears), regret, guilt, becoming a husk, I think that's all haha. Pls lmk if I miss anything! <33

I will post two endings, one with angst and one with fluff. Lmk if you want to be tagged!

Tears roll down your cheeks as you spam Dabi with texts. You had just gotten into an argument with your beloved when he stormed out, cursing you out.

"Please." You quietly plead, your voice broken with sobs. "Don't leave me."

All of your texts remain unread. All your calls declined. You were having a panic attack by now, yet nothing seemed to get the villain's attention.

Just as you're about to completely lose it, you hear footsteps. Your freeze, listening with an indescribable intensity. The window opens. Your eyes dart to the activity.

Familiar black combat boots peek through the gap, falling to the floor. Your eyes travel up the familiar torn jeans, the worn out t-shirt, the burned neck, the crooked frown, and finally to the comforting turquoise eyes.

You let out a sob of relief as you see your Dabi standing in front of you. He looks down at you, grimacing.

"What happened to you?" He scoffed.

"I-I was worried." Your voice was hoarse and broken from your sobs.

"Worried?" He grunts. "You're more idiotic than I thought." He groans, grabbing the sandwich you made before the argument.

"I-I thought you were leaving me."

"I'm not gonna leave ya. No matter how annoying you are." He scoffs.

Annoying....

Your mind repeats the word several times, your face stiffening as you numb your emotions.

"Sorry..." you mumble.

"Don't start that pouty crap." He scoffs, shooting you a glare. "I'm tired of you being such a bother. I have so much to deal with. Your pathetic emotions isn't on my list."

You quietly fold your arms, moving to the couch. You watch Dabi silently, taking deep breaths to contain your emotions.

"I'm leaving for a mission tonight. I'll be back before next week."

His voice was less harsh, but nowhere near as warm as usual.

"O-okay.." you mumble, fidgeting with your sleeves. He rolls his eyes with a scoff, stomping into your shared bedroom.

~~

"I'm leaving now, brat."

You scramble to your feet, swiftly moving to his side. You lean up, hoping for a kiss as you ever so slightly pucker your lips.

You know your husband. He will notice... won't he?

His cold eyes move down to your lips. He grunts, turning around and leaving. "See ya later, brat. Don't be pouting when I get home, you hear?" He mutters, hauling himself through the window.

He always came in and out through the back window... it would be bad if your neighbors caught a highly wanted villain in your apartment.. hence the sneaking.

You've lived together for over a year now, you've moved four times now.

"Wait-" you call out, reaching out to your husband. His cold gaze burns into you.

"Um- a-aren't you going to... going to.."

"Spit it out, woman."

"Aren't you going to.. kiss me?" You blush. Dabi scoffs.

"Don't expect needles privileges after your attitude yesterday."

"Attitude?! Do you mean our argument?" You protest.

"Here it goes again." He groans. "You're always complaining and refusing to take accountability."

"Thats nonsense." You clench your fists, trying to suppress your emotions. Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them shed.

"What's nonsense is your attitude. You can't even keep me around now can ya? Your attitude always drives me off! I wonder why I ever married you in the first place. You give me attitude and then act like I'm the victim. Pathetic."

Tears well in your eyes. You bite your lip. "I won't ask for anymore from you." You whisper.

"Good. Keep it that way." He lands outside, shrugging his shoulder before walking off with an nonchalant attitude.

You close the window, leaning against the wall as you try to slow down your breathing. Tears fall down your cheeks as you curl in a ball, feeling hurt, angry, betrayed, and worthless.

The days pass by as you wait for Dabi to return. You didn't hear from him, and he was gone far longer than he said he would be. Every text was left unread, every call ignored, every voice-mail left un-listened to.

Eventually, you stopped trying. You got a therapist, and ended up deciding on what was best for you. When he comes home, if he doesn't treat you better, if he doesn't even listen or try to change, its better for you to leave. Even if it was just for a little bit.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks blur into months. Many nights you lay awake, doubting yourself. Doubting your worth.

It killed you inside. Your self esteem plummeted. You stopped going to therapy. All you wanted was your husband. Your husband's love, his validation, his touch, his mere presence.

Curled in a ball, you stared at the wall with a blank expression. Horrid scenarios went through your head as you imagine your poor husband alone, injured, and dying.

Tears blur your vision as you imagine him already dead, his loving soul leaving this world without even telling you goodbye. You hadn't even gotten a kiss. Or an I love you.

The tears don't stop. And they didn't as the hours slowly pass by. You felt like ripping your hair out, screaming, hitting, throwing things- anything to get your mind off of your husband's doomed death.

The window opens. Your eyes dart towards the unlocked glass pane. Combat boots pokes through. You gasp in relief.

A worn, exhausted, injured, and in pain figure follows the boots. Revealing your beloved, Dabi. You let out a small sob, launching yourself at him.

You close your eyes in relief as you feel his warm chest, the familiar staples bringing you comfort. As you move to open your eyes you feel a hand to your shoulder, your backside hitting the floor.

You look up in shock, Dabi looking down at you in disgust.

"I thought you said you wouldn't ask anymore from me." He scoffed. You grab your arm, holding it to your chest.

"I-" you start.

"I really don't want to hear it. Just let me rest." He groans. You slowly lift yourself off of the floor, silently moving into your shared bedroom.

You curl in a ball, hiding under the sheets. You hear him walking around outside of the room, silently listening. Tears blur your vision once more. You cover your mouth, tightly closing your eyes.

You shake with sobs, doing your very best to stay quiet. You can't help but feel worthless. Tears stream down your cheeks as you listen to your husband's familiar footsteps, glad he's safe at the minimum...

Hours pass by as you cry yourself to sleep, your stray tears staining your cheeks.

~~

Dabi's POV

Dabi strolls into your shared bedroom. "Oi, make me a sandwich will ya?" He grunts. Yiu don't move, irritating him.

He moves to your side, snatching the blanket. "I said-" he stops as he sees you asleep, tears stained on your cheeks. A strange pain dtabs at his chest. Shaking it off, he drops the blanket.

Staring at you, he gently cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls away, caressing your cheek. "I've missed you. Even though you're a pain." He whispers before pulling away.

~~

Your POV

The next morning

You blink open your eyes, rubbing at the lingering sleepiness. Yawning, your eyes lazily run over the room. The curtains were hiding the small bedroom from sunlight, the entire room encompassed in darkness.

Sitting up, you rub your puffy eyes once more. Dabi was no where near sight. Sighing, you absent-mindedly trace the bruise on your arm where you fell.

Your heart aches as you remember your therapist's words. This isn't healthy. It needs to stop...

The door opens, revealing Dabi. "Finally awake, sleepy head?" His voice wasn't the cold growl like last night, but it was no where near gentle.

You nod, timidly. Afraid of upsetting him once more.

"I'm starving. Want to make breakfas..?" This was his way of asking you to. If you agreed, there would be no thank you, for you "wanted" to.

If you said no, he would be irritated for a while. He won't cook, no matter how many times you beg him to while you're away, so he will oftenly go without eating if you're unavailable or refuse to cook.

Biting your lip, you nod. He gives you a short grimace, something similar to a small smile before walking out. Standing up, you yawn, stretching your arms. Your eyes ache from all the crying, but you push that to the back of your mind.

You walk out to the kitchen, beginning to cook. You feel Dabi's eyes on you, but you don't pay much attention. You were guarded, unsure why he's acting so differently this morning. Cautious of unleashing the monster once more.

"Dabi?" You murmur. He grunts in response.

"I talked to a therapist when you were on your mission..."

"A therapist? What for? Did you leak my identity?!" He snaps.

"No, I didn't. I was really struggling for a while and needed someone to help me."

"So you relied on a stranger?!"

"You wouldn't answer. I called, texted, I left voice-mails."

"Oh so you think that your crappy attempt to get my attention justifies getting help from a stranger!? Was he a guy?! Were you sleeping with him?!"

"What?! No! I would never!"

"Then what were you doing with them?!"

"I was getting help for my mental state, Dabi!"

"Oh poor baby, you think being lonely justifies that?!"

"You're being unreasonable. Dabi she told me it was best for me to leave you if you keep treating me like this. I'm telling you this so you can wake up and change. This isn't okay." You snap, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Leave me?!" He laughs. "You wouldn't. You can't live without me."

"You've been making me live without you for months, Dabi. You don't tell me you love me, you don't show me affection, I'm lucky just to have you not yell at me!"

"You're being dramatic." He spits. "You're a spoiled brat. I've been working my arse off for you and you're this ungrateful."

"You've been working for revenge! It's not for me, it never was! I have my own job that pays for all or our bills Dabi!"

"You're listening to a stranger's advice and plan on leaving me?!"

"Only if you don't change Dabi!"

"You knew what you were getting into when you married me, y/n. Stop playing the victim."

"You didn't treat me like this when we first married."

"Keep telling yourself that." He spits, putting his jacket on.

"Where are you going?!" You cry, the food far from recovery, you hazardously shove the pan into the sink, burning your hand. You cry out in pain.

"Y/n!" Dabi yells, hurrying your side. He aggressively graps your hand, making you cry out once more. "Idiot! Why did you hurt yourself like that?!"

"Just leave me alone!" You try to yank your hand away but Dabi yanks it back.

"Stay still!"

"Let me go Dabi!"

"Y/n just sit still!!"

You push him back, protectively pressing your injured hand to your chest. "I said to let me go!"

Dabi's face scrunches up as he looks down at you. After a few silent moments he turns away. "I'm over you and your dramatic act." He mumbled.

Walking to the door, he pulls his combat boots on. "Don't leave!" You cry, coddling your burning hand.

He ignores you, moving to the window. "Dabi! If you leave without us finishing this I'm leaving."

"Go for it. I don't need you. I never did." He sneered.

Your heart throbbed as your beloved husband jumped through the open window, not looking back. Falling to your knees you break into sobs.

You cry over the absence of your beloved, you cry over the pain, and you cry over the dreaded feeling of being completely alone.

You don't stop for hours. It goes on and on until your completely out of tears, numb to the feeling of utter loss. Your hand aches. Your eyes aches. Your heart aches.

It all just- hurts.

You slowly drift to sleep, the cold kitchen floor being the only thing that grounds you from the pain of betrayal.

~~

Dabi's POV

Three days later.

Dropping from the window Dabi nonchalantly glances around the room. It seemed unusually cold an empty. Paying it no mind, Dabi hazardly tossed his jacket and boots towards the front door.

"Y/n, I'm home." He calls, running his hands through his greasy hair, his roots were growing out. Rolling his eyes, he opens the fridge. It was... empty.

"Y/n!" He calls once more, huffing in annoyance. "I get home and can't even eat?!"

No response. "For Pete's sake you petty brat! Get out here!"

Silence.

Anger fills his being before he remembers your words before he left. A strange pain shoots through him, his eyes widen as he runs into your shared bedroom. Everything of yours was... gone.

His heart quickens as he searches the entire house for you. Nothing. Not even a trace. His breathing quickens as he pulls at his hair. Taking a shuddering breathe, he shakes his head.

"You'll regret this y/n... you'll be back and I'll laugh in your face!" He chuckles, losing a bit of his sanity. "I DON'T NEED YOU! YOU'LL SEE!" He screams, activating his quirk as he knocks over a chair. He let's out a scream, lighting anything and everything in sight on fire.

Months pass by. Dabi has turned into a shell, simply surviving. Work, sleep, work, sleep, work... a "good" day is when he remembers to eat or drink. A shower or change of clothes is out of mind.

Walking through the streets, he walks inside the charred apartment. Stepping inside, he closes the door. He doesn't care about his identity anymore, or anything really.

His turquoise eyes scan the apartment, his eyes landing on a photo of you and him. His heart strangely aches once more. "Y/n..." he murmured, his fists clenching.

Falling to his knees, he lets out a broken sob. His eyes burn, tears would be running if they could. Blood drips from his charred tear ducts. He falls to the floor face first, nothing but his beloved wife on his mind.

How could he be so stupid?! How could he be so utterly retarted?! He lost the one thing in this world that actually loved him. Grasping his phone, he dials your number.

Please. Please pick up... please... I need you...

~~~~~

Part two (coming soon) | alt. ending (coming soon) lmk if you want to be tagged!! <33

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | Tips<3

Reblogs make me smile (bonus points if you tag) and comments make my day!!

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging. 

[devonaeya]

Some of the Batkids' "roles" in the narrative

Dick is introduced as a mirror of Batman's own character. Their back stories eerily match up but Dick grows up to be very different and yet so similar to Bruce. Nightwing is what Batman could never be. Flips and showy tricks, jokes, smiles and quips. But at the same time, he has a simmering anger under his skin at the world. He took up a mask to make the world a better place, to prevent other kids from losing their parents like he did. Which was also the origin story of Batman.

Cass is an ideal version of what Batman should be. A skilled fighter who knows their limit. An unwavering moral code that refuses to kill. Cass did not lead the same life as Bruce. She was trained from a young age as a weapon and forced to take a life. After that one kill, she decides to never do it again. It's what solidifies her morals. Why she would never cross that line. Cass joined Batman's crusade because he didn't kill instead of the other way around. She is the most like Batman and imo is the one who should take up the mantle in the future.

Tim is what Bruce could have been. This section is mostly headcanons but still takes from canon. Tim's whole thing is avoiding being Bruce while the narrative (bruce himself) continues to push him towards that character. As he grows, I see him being the first to go to therapy to deal with problems. His whole thing in Red Robin was being so much like batman but younger, making Ra's so interested in him and then turning that around and being "I'm not Batman, I have friends". He is exactly like Bruce but only at the worst points of his life. After all how do you get the bitter old man from the young bright souls whose need to help doesn't come from a personal tragedy? By taking away everything he holds dear at once.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Extreme trigger warning but I just came across a list that speaks volumes and the point they made hut ne like a truck...

That point being that Wukong was literally suicidal in s3 when he decided he was going to try to take the Samhadi Fire and use it to burn LBD up.

The Fire is known to be one of the few things in existence capable of killing him, he knows that Ao Lie taking on just a portion of it likely resulted in at minimum a shortened lifetime and very likely lead to his actual death, and that if left unchecked it could destroy the world. It's why they all sealed it away to begin with! And yet, this stupid, self sacrificial, immortal monkey was going to literally let himself be burned to a crisp in a half-baked attempt to stop LBD AND NOT THINK TWICE ABOUT IT! You can bet he fully expected to die in that moment and didn't care!

And throughout s3, you can tell Wukong wasn't quite right. He started the season with everyone angry at him for not warning them about LBD and going off on his own, inadvertently leaving MK to deal with the spirit on his own and putting him in danger. Wukong knows this and fully regrets it, you can TELL he's beating himself up over it the entire time, he's just hiding it because that's what Wukogn does when faced with uncomfortable emotions, he puts on a laid backed persona and pretends nothing bothers him, that such things are beneath him becaue its only for "dorky mortals," not an immortal hero like himself. It's what years and years of pain and misery and abuse had taught him to do. Because he's gotten to the point that all he and all he believes he can be is the Monkey King. The Legend, not the person.

Which reminds me... Throughout all of Lego Monkie Kid, nobody ever refers to Sun Wukong as his actual name except for one notable exception. Macaque. The person who was once Wukong's closest companion turned the most hateful enemy up u til that point. Someone who specifically targeted an innocent bystander simply for the crime of being Wukong's apprentice. How messed up would that make you, to get hundreds of years in isolation only for the first people you reach out to to never call you by your name? For the people you've come to love to only ever call you by a title you, more than likely, hate. The only person to call you is your own name, Macaque, who is actively trying to kill you and despises the very air you breathe and your very existence.

BIG TW cus its pretty heavy topic.

Me and another asker discussed this a while ago about how Wukong's canonical actions and behavior throughout the series are eerily similar to someone suffering from depression.

But I don't think he's actively trying to kill himself - at least he doesn't think he is. For Wukong; hosting the Samadhi Fire will either go off without a hitch - or he can leave the mortal plane in a huge final Big Bang.

It all goes back to his self-sacrificial nature, and becoming self-destructive after losing his Pilgrim brothers/support system.

The fact that he's been reduced to a "character" in the eyes of the public honestly makes him feel kinda sick. He can't think of who in his life would actually call him by his name - other than his enemies.

Also you are incorrect about Macaque being the only one to call Wukong by his name; Nezha and DBK pointedly call him by his name, albeit during moment when he's not in their good graces. Perhaps in Wukong's mind, the only people who really "care" about him anymore are the people who hate him/want to fight him.

Its sorta why a lot of my aus have Wukong re-establish a support system with assistance from the universe.

Wukong needs a therapy episode.

[multifandombullshitbabes]

Random Merlin Rewatch: Where a random number generator gives me a season and an episode from BBC Merlin; and then I comment on it as I go.

Today's episode: Season 4 Episode 7 - The Secret Sharer

Before I start, let me just say and I have done my uni exam and that's why I haven't been posting these even though I really wanted to. Not joking, I had to let my fingers rest 'cause I wrote all my notes and shit. It was a lot. Anyways, let's fucking do this.

LET'S GO INTRO!!!! YOUNG MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOH

EWWWWW WHY IS AGRAVAINE TOUCHING MORGANA LIKE THAT I'M GONNA PUKE BRO

Damn, Morgana's eyes are so GREEN, that makeup really does it for her. Kinda funny she's wearing it to bed though. Girl.

GOOD LORD MAMA, HELLO

Agravaine needs to chill the fuck out. Every time he's on screen he gives me the ick. Ugh. Also Morgana looked so damn paranoid talking about Emrys. "He knows everything. All our plans, all our secrets." Girl.... RIP Morgana you would've loved therapy (or not).

Ohhh... interesting Morgana's reaction to Agravaine's accusation of Gaius, saying that he's the ones working with Emrys. She almost looks... hurt? Like. She really doesn't want to face the reality that Gaius exists, in the sense that she's just so hurt by everything these people that "loved" her have done. She just feels so betrayed by everyone, so hurt, so ANGRY. It's so tragic.

Oh my GOD. I NEED PEOPLE TO STOP MANIPULATING MORGANA!!! I'M SICK OF IT!!!! The way she hesitates!!! When she knows that it means that they're going to use Gaius or maybe even kill him!!! The way that she moves away from Agravaine, processing this, the way he INTERRUPTS THIS and insists, again, that it has to be Gaius, they have to do something. And for a second she almost looks so fucking scared, like!!

LOOK AT HER!!! ANOTHER PERSON THAT'S BETRAYED HER!!! SHE'S SO HURT AND SCARED!!! OH GOD HER AND ARTHUR ARE SO SIMILAR.

She even blinks her eyes after that line from Agravaine, like blinking away tears, her eyes are so shiny bro, I'm gonna cry :((. And after blinking she turns all smirky and "evil" and shit. Jesus Christ. I could write a whole thesis about Morgana and her character progression holy shit.

LET'S GO MUSICCCCCCC

AHHHHHH the iconic breakfast in bed scene!!! Yay!!!

I don't blame Arthur for spitting that out, shit looked dry as FUCK. Also there's a bunch of crumbs on the bed, Merlin, YOU'LL have to clean that up!!! Don't give yourself more work!!

"I don't know anything about Polishing." We really need more appreciation about how Bradley delivers his lines, this one is just too funny, only hearing it, bro. Also. Merlin writes Arthur's speeches. One of the best pieces of canon in my opinion. It's just so comical, for some reason. And they must be good too, 'cause no one's questioning them. It's just such a subtle way to show that Merlin IS smart. Sometimes. A little bit.

Merlin, babe, you cannot be serious. You writing the new bible or something, what the fuck is this.

"You don't have hours." Most threatening and terrifying Merlin's ever sounded. Arthur's better than me, I would've have an anxiety attack so bad it'd send me straight to hell.

THIS INTRO IS EVERYTHING!!! WHY ARE THEY SAYING THINGS SO PERFECTLY SILLY!! I LOVE IT!!! Also, damn, Arthur's BUSY. I guess we do forget that kings had to, y'know. Do basically everything, like be a judge sometimes. Hello??

Ah yes, what I've been waiting for: the wrestling Arthur out of the bed scene. Love it. No notes, really.

"You're doing very well, Arthur." WHAT IF I CRY???

"I don't think so."???? ARTHUR WHAT IF I SMACK SOME SENSE INTO YOU, SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE DOING PRETTY GREAT IN MY OPINION, LISTEN TO YOUR MANSERVANT FOR ONCE.

A tiny bit of appreciation for Arthur's chest hair.

Thank you.

Love that Agravaine just. Ignores that it's Merlin writing Arthur's shit. He must have gotten such a shock right at the start and now nothing's surprising anymore.

The fact that Morgana, all in black, has a white horse is so fucking cool to me. Work that shit, queen.

OK GORGEOUS?????

Hate the way Agravaine speaks. Shut the FUCK UP.

Arthur. Arthur, honey. Yeah, you've got to stop being so easy to manipulate. I know it's hard, but your uncle is so fucking obvious doing it, please, please, just. Please. Holy shit.

Morgana's dress (cloak?? hood?? idk) is so pretty.

Morgana being the last of her kind, High Priestess of the Triple Goddess. Merlin being the last Dragonlord. Something something...

Also. Some obvious orientalism is this episode. Kinda icky, but unsurprising giving it's BBC and also like. 2011 or whatever. But still. Ugh.

Welp. Welp, welp. Can't really say much about that, can I??

I can't remember, but I'm assuming that bracelet she gives to the Catha is from Morgause, simply by the look of pain in her face when it's out of her grasp. Literally, when will my wife's suffering end?

I wonder just how many different kinds of magic beings and users there are in JUST the five kingdoms. What about the rest of the world?? Like. that's just so cool!! I love world building, maybe one day I'll waste away some days just building up lore and lore, probably some made up, but mostly from all cultures and countries. That would be cool as fuck actually.

Agravaine's smile is so FAKE, FUCK OFFFFFFF

Ew, why does he just touch everybody. Weird uncle vibes, for sure.

Oh, I just don't like how Arthur's so quiet. I bet Agravaine's just gotten in his head so bad. He already looks ready to cry, like Gaius has already betrayed him. He's so used to that, what's one more?

Jesus, this hurts to watch. The fact that Gaius knows exactly what's happening, and he's trying to be as truthful as he can but Agravaine's just. making it all worse and horrible. This is so bad.

Ok, Gaius, I know you're better at lying than this. Fucking damnit.

EW. Agravaine's little smirk?? What the fuck is wrong with him? Jesus, I feel so sick watching this, knowing that he's just basically sentenced Gaius as a liar!! Fuck!!!

Well, at least Arthur noticed that Agravaine was being a fucking bitch. Not all is lost.

"... we might find some (proof)." Oh, ok, so you're just admitting that you're going to fabricated evidence against Gaius? Oh ok.

JESUS THESE MAN'S TITTIES ARE JIGGLING GOOD LORD

OH MY GOD, NOT THE PECS FLEXING??? I'm assuming normally you don't see that when you're on a horse adjusting yourself 'cause you got clothes on but this guy DOESN'T and you can SEE EVERYTHING.

The way that Merlin opens the door is so funny. He is NOT amused to be called upon by Agravaine. Mood.

Why is Agravaine's smile literally so disgusting, I cannot.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WHY DOES HE SMILE SO MUCH???? VERY MUCH WEIRD UNCLE VIBES. VERY MUCH "PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, YOUR UNCLE'S COMING." VIBES. EW. EW EW EWWWW

Love seeing Agravaine getting humbled, thank you big titty man.

Really? Really??? A book boldly proclaiming that it's about magic and sorcery, kinda hidden by one (1) sheet of paper as your proof? Really??? Are you for real right now?? Fuck off.

It is actually so upsetting seeing Agravaine in Merlin and Gaius's space. Like that's not for you, disgusting bitch.

Not Merlin finishing polishing the dagger and setting it on Arthur's nightstand JUST as the warning bells start to sound. Lol. Lmao even.

OH MY GOD THEY'RE DESTROYING GAIUS' SHIT??? WHAT THE FUCK

No no no. I hate this. The fact that Merlin now get's why Agravaine made him polish that dagger. He's fucking blaming himself right away, oh I can't do this.

Merlin literally looks like a baby in this shot, holy shit. My baby :(((.

Agravaine's acting (not the actor's, is the actor acting the character acting!! which is so fucking cool) is so fucking annoying. It's so obvious, dammit, Arthur, you're a king, how can you not see it!!! I know he's family, but you barely know him!!! I know he's from your mother's side and you want THAT side to be good unlike your father's side that's brought you so much pain, I know, but come ON!!!

Oh, Merlin's so mad, not at Arthur, at Agravaine and himself, but he's so hurt, so scared, so pained that it comes across as quietly, restrained angry, and it's fucking heart breaking.

Oh god. This is one of their most painful fights in my opinion. I think they get so fucking heart breaking when it's Merlin just. trying to show his side, trying to get Arthur to understand but Arthur just cannot because he's been given a certain information that WOULD make his actions sensible, but WE know they're lies!!! We do, Merlin does, but he can't just say that 'cause it might reveal HIS lie, and it's just UGH!!!!!!!!!! FUCK

MERLIN IS FUCKING TEARING UP I CAN'T. "He would not leave without saying goodbye to me." I AM GOING TO PUKE.

The way Merlin turns away when he's close to crying, ohhhhh. Oh BBC Merlin writers when I catch you. Colin Morgan when I catch you.

"I don't wanna lose another friend." I think these are the moments that really make me wanna chortle Arthur. I truly feel like he cannot understand the depth of the power that he has compared to Merlin. 'Cause what does that threat mean? Just them stop being friends but Merlin's still employed? Arthur sacking Merlin? Arthur treating Merlin how he's treating Gaius right now? Because, truthfully, with the power that Arthur has, any of these options is viable. I think this is what scares me, Arthur just cannot comprehend that he just cannot threaten his friends, his loved ones, like this just because he's king now. He simply cannot. The weight of it is different. Even if he would never hurt them, it doesn't matter, he has the POWER to. That's what's so scary. And then he wonders why Merlin doesn't tell him things. How can he?

The way things just. Change between the early seasons and now. The way Gaius talks to Morgana, knowing she wants to kill him, when he saw her grow up. I'm gonna be so fucking sick, y'all, what the fuck.

Does she braid some of her hair with leaves?? Or a green ribbon? What is that in her hair??

Not gonna lie, Morgana is so hot in this scene. Jesus. Love that voice, and that's all I'm gonna say.

HE LOOKS SO BABY!!!!!!!!!!1

I love that Gwen doesn't even question that Agravaine's behind it. She's like "I'll use my charms to get Arthur to see reason, don't worry bestie."

ICONICCCC GAIUS USING MAGIC!!!!!!!!

Oh, I love when Merlin doesn't even use words. Just golden eyes and BOOM. Magic.

MERLIN FOR FUCK'S SAKE BRO YOU CAN'T EVEN SNEAK OUT CORRECTLY WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!! That's so fucking funny though, I'm losing it-

GWAINE!!!! MY BABY!!! You look like a puppy :,).

Oop. Cock blocked.

Merlin is just in a fucking mood and honestly he deserves to be. But it is interesting how differently he acted with Gwaine and Gwen. I wonder if he's being shorter with Gwaine 'cause he's a knight now, and he knows that knights talk and are closer to the king's views than the servants. Classic class division and such, even if Gwaine is not like other knights. He just cannot be sure now. Also 'cause he almost got found out my Agravaine which does not good for your nerves I bet.

WOW. Gwaine, baby, STAND UP. Get some self-respect. Good god. At Merlin's back and call, it's really ridiculous bro.

Immediately on a secret mission, love these boys.

Not Agravaine seeing his plans fall apart, GET REKT LOSER.

I wonder if Morgana's a good cook. I think she isn't actually. Just never gets recipes right. Burns things, undercooks others.

Oh, poor Gaius... he really tried to fight it but...

It's really fun watching the series and recognizing common clips used in edits.

The way Gaius speaks about Merlin with such wonder and pride... crying rn.

LMAO NOT MERLIN JUST COMPLETELY TRIPPING BOTH OF THE GUY'S FEET. ALSO THE WAY THE CATH TURNED??? HELLO??? HE LOOKED LIKE A SQUIRREL.

"We should split up." "Yeah." two dumb bitches saying "exactlyyyy"

"If you find him, don't wait for me." Gwaine IMMEDIATELY disagreed with that, Merlin dearest, he's not gonna let that happen.

Oh my god, Morgana hasn't met Gwaine yet. All she knows, from Agravaine, is that he's a "hothead". Lmao. lol even.

I love how Agravaine, literal dagger to Gaius' neck, is disagreeing with Gwaine's very keen observation, that he's the kidnapper and traitor. Girl, shut the fuck up.

Gwaine is so handsome. Also, yes, not completely stupid because, if Agravaine didn't kidnap Gaius, how did he know where he was, hm?? Bitchass.

Jesus. Credit when credit's due, he can be a good liar. Also, I feel like Gwaine's acting like he believes Agravaine's innocent, mainly because he can sense something fishy about him. His question, "So you agree he was abducted then?" is so SMART. 'Cause what else can Agravaine do but agree and declare Gaius an innocent man? Yeah that's fucking right, bitch.

Morgana is literally so hot and tragic when evil, good lord.

UGH, Morgana using magic without words, YES!!! Love her being powerful.

Face card never declines for either one of them, good god. Y'know what, more and more I understand Mergana. Just. Look at them!!!

OH THE WAY MERLIN KNOWS THAT ALATOR KNOWS HE'S EMRYS. OH MY GOD?????

Oh jesus, the way Morgana's just RELIEVED to finally know who Emrys is, she's so scared of him she just doesn't want to be scared anymore. Her voice is so soft here :(.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE YEETED THE FUCK OUT OF MORGANA WHAT THE FUCK, WOAH!!!!!!!!1

Oh wow that scene just gave me chills, holy shit holy shit. The way Alator just kneels and allies himself to Merlin. Jesus Christ, that's my drug bro.

Gwaine and Arthur interacting. Gwaine being so soft about Gaius, so worried :(. Arthur too :(((.

I really do love how royals just think the servants can't fucking hear. Gwen is right there as they speak very sensitive matters. Like bitch?? They have ears I promise??

The way Gaius and Merlin communicate their fears and anxieties :((( I'm so emotional bro.

"My worry is Arthur." and THOSE are your loyalties, while Alator and other's loyalties are to YOU, Merlin, 'cause you're supposed to bring forth Albion, but you're too busy having a fucking CRUSH TO DO IT!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, the way Arthur walks into the room and Merlin cannot even BEAR to look at him. He's HURT. As is his right.

The way Merlin immediately lightens the mood, 'cause he wants things to be easy as possible, even if it gets hurts swept under the rug like this. UGH. AGHHHHHHHHH.

Boys. Stop eye fucking. You're supposed to at least be a little mad at him, Merlin, you kinda deserve that, y'know.

Love that Arthur believes without a doubt that Gaius withstood torture for him and Camelot and won. Like. He truly sees Gaius as this strong figure. Just always there since he was born, bro. Even before, while he was being made!! That's bonkers.

I love how Arthur understood Gaius' lied even though Agravaine talks in the "evil manipulative guy" voice all the time. Fuck off bro, I swear.

The Gaius is trying to teach Arthur to understand the complexities of magic, that it's all evil or all good, it's all different. I love this scene so much.

Pretty boy.

And that is it!!! God, what an episode!! I feel like this episode is a good starting point for a show rewrite, in which Arthur gets more and more curious about magic and tries to understand, and maybe we'd get a magic reveal and shit like. I like that a lot.

[scarlethexelove]

hi, can you please do agatha harkness x fem reader, where reader was sexually abused by ex girlfriend badly and has trauma so agatha helps to overcome it? their first time being together...

Soft

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 1684

Warnings: Soft sex, Smut, Soft Agatha, Fingering, Oral, just fluffy smut

Pt 1

A/n: I hope it is ok that I'm making this as a second part to my other fic. Aggie is just so sweet and soft and caring. I just can't with her. Hopefully this is ok and what you wanted.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your clothes slip off your body as you undress after the most perfect date with the perfect woman. Agatha has been so gentle and caring. She always checks on your boundaries after you explained your past to her. You don’t know how you lucked out on finding her but you are so grateful. 

You turn around to admire Agatha as she slips her clothes off. She is only left in her bra and panties. “Aggie.” She hums, turning around to look at you. “Oh shit. I’m sorry sweetheart.” She adverts her eyes from your already naked form. “Aggie it’s ok. You can look.” You say a bit shy. She looks back at you, her eyes filled with admiration for you. She always respects your body and always takes your feelings into account. You make your way closer to her and take her hand in yours looking up into her eyes. You give her a soft smile. “I think I’m ready to try.” Your voice is soft. 

Agatha looks at you searching for any hint of hesitation but finds none. She gives you a soft smile back. “Are you sure sweetheart?” You give her a nod. “You make me feel safe and loved. I’m ready to try.” You see nothing but the love and admiration she has for you. “If you are sure then I would be happy to. But if at any point you want to stop just tell me and we will stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Your heart melts with her concern for you. It has been many months of therapy for you to get to this point. You have gone to both personal therapy and couples therapy. It’s not that you needed to do couples therapy but you both wanted to learn about each other and you both could work on slowly introducing sex back into your life if you so wish. There have been countless conversations about your boundaries. It has never been too much to go over it multiple times in order to make sure that you are comfortable and you are so thankful for that. 

Agatha takes your hand and leads you towards the bed. As you crawl on the bed Agatha strips down the rest of the way. You can’t help but stare at how beautiful she looks. She catches you staring which makes you blush and looks down. She crawls on the bed moving to hover over you. She gently lifts your chin and kisses you softly. “You’re so beautiful baby.” She whispers against your lips. “Not as beautiful as you.” You whisper back, making Agatha shake her head. “I have never seen someone more beautiful than you.” If possible your cheeks turn a darker shade of red. 

The sound of your heartbeat is all that you can hear as your anxiety spikes. You tense slightly when Agatha gently grabs your hips and kisses your neck. She stops immediately feeling you tense. “Do you want me to stop?” She asks you worried. “No.” You shake your head. “Sorry.” Her thumb rubs gently against your skin which makes you relax. She pecks your lips softly. “Okay.” She smiles. “Just try and relax and I will do all the work.” You nod at her words as you lean back and try your best to relax.

Agatha kisses your neck starting to trail kisses down from your neck and to your chest. She is making sure not to leave any marks behind as she works her way down. She wants to make sure not to cross your boundaries that you set. She trails down further until she is laying between your legs. “Is this ok?” She asks you. “Yes.” It comes out a bit breathy as you nod, you’re already getting worked up from her small touches. But not worked up in a bad way, excited for the chance to give all of you to Agatha. 

Soft kisses are placed on your thighs as Agatha gently caresses your hips rubbing soothing circles there. You reach your hand down for her free one looking for a way to ground yourself before you become too overwhelmed. She takes your hand and laces her fingers with yours and smiles softly at you. 

“May I?” Agatha asks. She wants to check in with you every step of the way which makes your heart swell with love. “Yes… Please Aggie , I need you.” You haven’t felt this desperate in so long that you are a little taken aback by how you sound. “Anything for you sweetheart.” She leans in placing a kiss on your clit, which makes you shudder. An old sensation that feels new… different. 

You squeeze Agatha’s hand as she sucks your clit in her mouth. In all of your talks about boundaries it was agreed upon that your first time would only be mouth and fingers and only two fingers. Agatha doesn’t want to overwhelm you with more, giving you just the perfect combination. She can keep it gentle as she works you up. 

Agatha gently sucks your clit causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. Agatha feels her chest swell in pride for being able to make you feel safe. Your arousal starts to leak down onto her chin as she licks and sucks at your bundle of nerves. Your hand never leaves her as she grounds you. Any worry you had washing away as she slowly builds you up. She brings her hand not holding yours down, slowly teasing your entrance with one finger. 

Iridescent eyes find yours silently asking your permission. You nod your head breathing heavily as you look down at the woman between your legs. She slowly pushes her finger into your waiting hole. Once fully pushed in she lets you get used to feeling. The feeling is slightly overwhelming causing you to grip her hand harder. She gently rubs her thumb on the back of your hand trying to relax you. After a moment your grip relaxes and she starts to slowly thrust her finger. 

You hate to admit how embarrassingly fast the knot in your stomach is growing. The new feeling and how soft and attentive Agatha is being is bringing you closer to the edge. Your hips start to lightly buck into her face the more comfortable you feel with the woman. You can feel her smile against you as you do so. Her finger curling as she pulls out hitting that perfect spot inside of you. Moans start to tumble from your lips the more pleasure that you feel. 

Agatha adds her second finger stretching your walls more as she builds you. Her expert tongue toying with your clit has your walls clenching around her fingers. She can feel how close you are getting. Your hips buck as your thighs tighten around her head. A pleasure that you never thought you would welcome again slowly taking over. 

Agatha can tell you're close to falling over the edge as she works you up keeping a gentle and slow pace. “Cum when you're ready baby.” She mumbles against your clit. The vibrations sending you over the edge. You moan as your thighs clamped around her head. Your walls pulsing around her fingers as you coat them with your cum. Your hips wildly buck when she sucks on your clit. She rides you through your high before it starts to become too overwhelming for you. 

You close your eyes feeling tears well up. Agatha stops and pulls away slowly not wanting to hurt you. When she sees the look on your face and you open your eyes she panics. “I’m so sorry baby. Did I hurt you? Oh god I’m so sorry.” You can see the panic and worry written all over her face as she sits up and looks you over. She sees the unshed tears and panics more. You shake your head. “I’m ok.” The tears were happy tears. You had thought that you would never be able to be intimate with another woman after your ex but here you are with the most amazing woman ever. 

Agatha doesn’t buy it though still worried that she has some how fucked it up and ruined all of your progress. You shake your head and pull her hand towards you gently kissing the back. “I’m happy Aggie. I can’t thank you enough.” You tell her admiration for the woman in front of you. You can see her relax at your words so thankful that she didn’t hurt you. She moves to lay down next to you. You instantly move closer to her and she wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you closer to her. “No need to thank me baby. I would do anything for you.” 

You can tell Agatha wants to kiss you but is hesitant. Your juices are still coating her lips. “Aggie, you can kiss me.” You tell her. “Are you sure? If you aren’t ready I can go brush my teeth and clean up.” You shake your head with a wide smile on your face. So thankful for her always putting your needs above her own. “Kiss me.” You mumble leaning towards her. She can’t resist you and meets you halfway there as your lips meet. It’s odd to taste yourself on her lips but oddly satisfying.  

When the two of you pull back you lay your head on her chest as the room falls into a peaceful silence. “What about you?” You look up at the older woman breaking the silence. She shakes her head with a soft smile. “Tonight was about you sweetheart. Don’t worry about me.” You're hesitant. “Are you sure?” Agatha kisses your head. “Absolutely, I don’t need anything other than you. You can next time, how about that?” You smile and nod. “Next time.” You whisper as you cuddle in closer. Both of you slowly drift off to sleep in each other's arms. Content with life and excited about the progression of your relationship. It isn’t always this easy in the future but you always work together to make things right.