#been so long since i've tagged that i missed it

[prolix-yuy]

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

[stargazedwinchester]

Mine, Not Yours | Sam

Summary: The Winchester brothers are notorious for starting things they can't finish, until you come along.

Based off of this request here! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy with work :( but here it is! It's a little different to what you requested so if you want a rewrite just message me :) This’ll be made into a 2 or 3 part series depending how long I make it lmao, thank you <3

There is some gore mentioned but not a lot, just a prewarning!

Word count: 1,233

Tag List: @chaospossum @take-it-on-the-run @girlsforpjm @themidnightwitch44 @rowenalovee @amythedoctor

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It felt like it had been hours since you settled here, in the desolate corner of a forest near West Monroe, Louisiana. You're always on the road, but something has told you to stay put, to monitor your surroundings, as something isn't quite right.

You had already spoke to investigators and police prior to staying at your campsite. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, a typical civilian had been killed and no one knows how it happened. It's like you've relived this life a hundred times.

Something rustles in the bushes nearby, which breaks your thoughts. You scramble toward the nearest tree, the huge trunk hides your entire body and could cover more. Keeping your breathing steady, you hold your knife up to your chest for safety. "Sammy, I'm not sure this is the right place..." A voice emerges, footsteps slowly approaching. "It is the right place... Hold on," The footsteps stop. "Here. North." He carries on. Who the Hell are these guys and why are they taking your hunt?

You keep yourself stable, undetectable. The footsteps grow louder as they unknowingly pass someone who's more than willing to strike no matter what.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Keeping your distance, you follow them inside. The two have no idea they’re being tracked. One broad man, taller than the other. Long-ish hair just past his ears, whilst the other had shorter, darker hair. He’s holding a flashlight, scanning the room for any clues that link toward the murder. They’re conversing about something that you can’t quite make out.

Before you know it, a creature lunges out baring it’s teeth, yellowing at the gum, saliva dripping from the fangs. Your heart races, that thing is terrifying. “What the fuck…?” You gasp, and the men quickly whip out their weapons and aim. Stepping back, you attempt to see if they can handle it themselves. The creatures is almost 15 feet tall, it’s skin almost pearlescent with a weird film, like it’s sweat and slime in one.

Wendigo.

They rush to their sides, pulling out silver knives, arrows, basically anything with silver on it. You had memorised multiple Anasazi symbols, incase of emergencies. The wendigo flinched as the shorter one aimed a pistol and fired a single silver bullet into it’s collarbone. The wendigo jolted back, a bellow escaping it’s throat. It felt as if it shook the whole room.

“C’mon!” One of them roared, “For something your size, you’re not putting up a fight!” He fires another shot, this time, missing. “Dean?” He panics, slowly backing away but keeping his aim. His eyes dart from his partner to the oversized freak in front of them. “Dean!” He yells as the wendigo swipes at him, narrowly missing his chest. “Fuck this,” You say to yourself. You take your silver machete out from it’s sleeve that’s hung on your back and you make your way over to the helpless victims of this ugly behemoth.

Treading lightly, you impale the wendigo with your machete, causing it to scream out in pain. Its whole body doesn’t even have to turn around to face you, it leans sideways and strikes. You somehow manage to dodge its spindly fingers, and slice its hand. “What the Hell?” They panic, wondering who is behind the blade. The taller one’s eyes widened and his breath halters, stepping back. His hands start to tremble as he tries to keep a steady aim. “Over here!” The older-looking one shouts, grabbing the attention of the wendigo. It takes huge steps toward them, giving you a minuscule amount of time to do something, anything. You take a random marker from your pocket and start to draw a huge circle, with squiggly lines coming from it, somewhat resembling a cartoon sun. You slam your hand into the middle of the symbol, a purple spark igniting and following the same path you drew. The wendigo’s eyes light up, a sudden wave of fear takes over it. Something you don’t see when it’s normally the other way around.

Suddenly, there’s an eruption of flames that engulf the monster, starting from its feet and climbing its way up covering the whole body. Flickers of ember float to the ceiling and then disappear. Taking your machete, you climb onto a crate and ready yourself to take a leap. You jump, grabbing onto the creature, piercing your blade right through its neck, blood gushing out splattering onto your face and all over the floor. You stab again, this time the wendigos head hanging on by a thread, then falling to the floor. As it falls, you tumble to the side and let the flames hug the now deceased.

You try to catch your breath, meeting the eyes of the two men that had started the fight without you. You look at them up and down, scanning their body language. You stand strong with your machete in your hand, still on edge. The shorter one scoffs. "That was some Lara Croft moves right there," He chuckles, looking at his partner. The other rolls his eyes. "Sorry. I'm Sam, it's nice to meet you." He holds out his hand for you to shake. You cautiously take it.

"I'm Y/N. Who's the Tomb Raider fangirl?" You joke, making Sam smirk at your comment. "I'm Dean. I'm not just a fangirl, I just think she's hot, okay?" He rambles, whilst you and Sam share looks. "You're digging yourself into a deeper hole, man." Sam almost whispers, and you giggle. "Yeah. I know." Dean agrees, his hand meeting his neckline and he turns away.

Sam is tall, wearing a dark olive green jacket with a red and navy blue flannel underneath. His hair falls perfectly at his ears and curls slightly outward at the tips. His broad shoulders make him seem massive. He looks gentle but like his guard is still up. Dean, on the other hand, is wearing a dark blue denim jacket, a lighter green button up and a black t-shirt. His smile shines bright in the gloomy moonlight that's shining through the boarders nailed to the walls.

"Well, anyway, I think I'm gonna go. It was somewhat fun while it lasted. Looks like I did the hard work for you." You say with a slight hint of annoyance in your voice. The size of these men is comparable to their cowardly attitude. As you’re about to walk away, one of them breaks the silence with by clearing their throat.

“If you ever, y’know…” Sam starts, stepping forward, he almost towers above you, your frame marginal. “Need help with anything, give me a call.” He smirks, and you laugh. “How am I supposed to call you without knowing your number?” You gaze up at him, and his face lights up as if he connected the dots. “Oh! Yeah, uh..” he rapidly checks his pocket for a pen, unable to find a single piece of paper or receipt. “Can I?” He asks, reaching out for your hand. “S-sure,” You say, allowing him to take your hand and write his number across your wrist. His skin is rough, callouses and cuts along his knuckles and the tips of his fingers. You watch his face as he concentrates on writing, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes scanning to make sure he’s done it right. He steps back and you look down at your wrist, then back up at him.

“Thanks, Winchester. I’ll be seeing you.”

[imaginesig]

"Ditch the clowns, get the crown / Baby, I'm the one to beat"

Pt. 2 of “Can someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived”

Lewis Hamilton x ex!reader (barely)

Joe Burrow x singer!reader

What happened between the breakup and Y/n's release of "The Tortured Poets Department: Eros." Once again I stole this entire story line from Taylor Swift. The timeline doesn't line up perfectly with the original but I do what I want

Yn_updates

Liked by user4, user83, user92, and 920,092 others

Yn_updates: after the drop of TTPD Y/n was seen at the Cincinnati’s Bengals game today!!

tagged: yn_ln

user1: she rlly said, bye futbol and went back to her roots

user2 it’ll always be Y/n and her little drink against the world

user3 chat what is going on

user4 I need Twitter to get working on a timeline bc the breakup album just dropped, but we think her and Lewis might have been broken up for a while before she went on break, but now she’s writing for a new man who is possible on either the Bengals??

yn_updates

liked by user98, user3, user1, and 928,282 others

yn_updates: Y/n at the last regular season Bengals game!

tagged: yn_ln

user1 ugh why does her break have to end before playoffs!! I don't want her to miss any games!!

user3 same! I've enjoyed seeing her and her fits

user2 even if it didnt the Bengals aren't predicted to go far this year

user4 I NEED to know what's happening bc there is no way she just up and decided to attend football games this religously

user5 and they're not just any football games, Bengals games. she didnt even grow up a Bengals fan, she was raised a Titan's fan

yn_ln

liked by user43, gracieabrams, sabrinacarpender, and 928,923 others

Yn_ln: Ugh South America!! Y’all are as beautiful as sparkling lights at midnight!! Big kisses to you all!! 🫶🫶

tagged: no one

user1 ahh best night of my life!!!

user2 she was so giddy and happy tonight

user3 im glad someone else noticed

user4 guys the surprise songs tonight where the first ones since the breakup about Lewis that she wasn't mad or sad

user5 was Lewis in attendance? Are my parents back together??

user6 nope, while Y/n was giggling her way through Delicate Lewis was attempting to overtake Lando in Italy

user7 we all see her smile right??

user8 I NEED to know who was behind it

user9 I've been searching but as of right now no one other than family and close friends were in the VIP tents

user10 when she sang it seemed like she directed it in one area of the crowd not the tents, so maybe this mystery person was on the floor

user11 normally I would call this theory crazy but people who were there said it was clear the second surprise song was clearly aimed at someone in the audience, but no ones been identified yet...

joeyb_9

liked by user93, lahhay10_, teehigins, and 823,929 others

joeyb_9: "You look like bad news, I gotta have you" or sum

tagged: lahjay10_

User12 HE DID NOT

user1 WHAT

user2 guys is this who I think it was

user3 my worlds just collided

lahya10_ great night- one for the books!

joeyb_9 you got that right

user4 OMG JOEY B AND J'MARR AT A Y/N CONCERT??

user5 im assuming we're all thinking the same thing...

user6 they were on the floor too, not in tents

user7 J'marr only posted a story about the night and didnt dress up, so it has to be Joe

user8 THE CAPTION HELLO

user9 brother thinks putting "or sum" makes it less obvious

user10 what if he's just a girl like us with hyper specific captions

user11 the fact that he dressed up on theme for the concert made him 10x hotter

bengals

liked by yn_ln, joeyb_9, user5, and 678, 982 others

bengals: "It's been a long time coming..." 🏆

tagged: no one

user1 admin you aint slick 🤨

user2 AND THE BENGALS ARE SUPER BOWL CHAMPS WHOOO

user3 AHHH DID ANYONE ELSE SEE Y/N'S FACE AT THE END

user4 her face?? Babe I saw her whole body go flying up when they won!

user5 ugh she's a good luck charm across all sports

User6 but this time the man backed her up with his own skill…

User7 damn Y/n fans switch up quick

joeyb_9

liked by yn_ln, teehiggins, bengals, and 918,289 others

joeyb_9: WE'RE CHAMPS BABY

tagged: bengals, yn_ln

yn_ln so proud!!

joeyb_9 ♥️

lahjay10_ HELL YEAH BROTHER

joeyb_9 💪💪

teehiggins that’s how we do!!

joeyb_9 that's how we do 👏👏

User1 OMG HIM AND Y/N???

User2 their celebrations were adorable!!

user3 I’m glad after all the speculation they’ve made it official \

user4 He is not afraid of showing her off🥹

user5 it makes me so happy for her

yn_ln

liked by joeyb_9, user93, user3, and 928,928 others

yn_ln: I'm with the winning team

tagged: joeyb_9

joeyb_9 so much better than a good luck charm ♥️

yn_ln ♥️♥️

user1 Lewis punching the air rn

user2 fr, she really called him a loser with the caption

user3 lmao I love shady Y/n

user4 HER AND JOE?? THATS THE CUTEST PIC EVER

user5 IKR

user6 THEY'VE BEEN PUBLIC FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS AND THEY ALREADY MAKE ME FEEL SO LONELY

user7 is she with the winning team or are they the winning team??

user8 y/n and Joe >>>

Yn_ln

liked by user79, user91, user91, and 918,901 others

Yn_ln: surprise!! "The Tortured Poets Department: Eros" out now!! This edition includes two new songs, "So High School" and "The Alchemy"

tagged: no one

comments have been disabled

Twitter post songs release:

Twitter first Paris show:

yn_ln

liked by joeyb_9, user82, landonorris, and 829,927 others

yn_ln: Fuck me up *Paris*!!!

tagged: no one

user1 AHHH TTPD SET WAS INCREDIBLE

user2 ugh buying more tickets now bc I HAVE to see the new set

User3 all the symbols I CANT

User4 she looked so stunning

User5 I cannot y’all Joe was there!!!!

user6 I lost my mind at all their moments!! Hes so shameless unlike Lewis

User7 Paris was so lucky!!

user8 it was adorable to see Joe smiling and SINGING all throughout the show, including his songs/TTPD set

user9 ahhh the singing got me!!! her exes would never

user10 all the friendship bracelets her received and wore-- he was so cute

user11 I love that he has arms full and refused to relive himself of any!!

joeyb_9

liked by yn_ln, user9, yn_updates, and 918,928 others

joeyb_9: Baby, you're the one to beat ♥️

tagged: yn_ln

comments have been limited

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@swifth0lic

@erbri3r

[starsoftheeye]

TMagP 17 Reaction

Pre-Episode

I've discovered that acting disinterested literally makes the episodes show up earlier on my youtube account, so I've gotta play mindgames on this app every thursday to get to see the episodes less than half an hour after they release lol

Pre-Statement

Ah Celia is back on her bullshit

Wait did she just nearly get ran over???

I feel bad for laughing at her but her only reaction being "Oh for gods sake" is super funny to me how long has she been doing this

oh hi sam

oh god she missed their date :[

something tells me a habit is going to be made of this, especially considering she literally cannot help it

"it really wasn't" yeah no wonder you nearly became roadkill

theyre so cute i love them

ooh shes mad

Statement

"catalyst" huh, have we heard that before or is this the first time

pfft not the interviewer getting read to shreds

wild theory before i keep going, based on the title "saved copy" and the "identity crisis", "existential horror", "temporal distortion" and "captivity" tags, im going to assume that this person going to therapys having the details of their life copied somewhere for something to replicate and replace them, and the doctors gonna attempt to get rid of them but obviously it didnt work. either that or the guy outside the office does something

as someone whos never done meditation before this is not encouraging me to start

ah office spaces, the worst of cosmic horror

wait did they get teleported or something

tbf if my taxi driver started driving completely the wrong way i'd assume the worst and start "exchanging words" too

oh my god was i right

wait is this copy based on their therapy, a version of themselves with no problems whatsoever? and is this gonna be a "there can only be one" type scenario?

oh wait no i forgot siblings exist

wait nvm them having the same name is weird

"dates and times" so this is where the temporal distortion comes in ig

yup

i'm sticking with the "rich-darrien is a copy trying to assimilate into og-darriens life" theory for now

yeah because thats not normal darrien, even if youre related no-one looks completely identical apart from glasses, teeth colour and a lack of a beer-gut

do they both think the other is the copy, or does sharron just not know?

oh god what is he hiding

does he beat up a real person every time hes upset

of course it was his father that makes sense

oh my god the sound design

oh my god he's the one who assimilated thats so cool

good for sharron i hope shes doing okay

off-topic but i love the way the voices get more real as the statement goes on then go back to their more robotic tone at the end

Post-Statement

as a celia fan i am eating well this week jeez

celia my dear what do you mean by that "not exactly the same though, it is?" girlie what have you done what are you hidinggg

alice!

who was playing the music in the background there?

as someones whos computing department in school consists of keyboard with never-before-discovered types of bacteria wedged between the keys thats valid

alice dyer i love you so much

ah the dyhard is dyharding

ah yes the mutual "i'm traumatised and i know you are too but i don't like you enough to give details on mine or ask about yours so we'll just sit and suffer in silence til the ice somehow breaks" dynamic

also colin mention woohoo i love the scottish man

the computer start up noise and power down noise at the beginning and end of every episode kind of makes me think that someone is watching all of this (maybe us, or more likely someone in-universe)

anyway that was fun, i'm doing this late but this was a nice way to spend my first proper off-day since finishing all my exams

[buddyfunnyspendtime]

ok i;m normal now new mao card so good.. 1 he is super duper pink here welcome back princess mao i missed u girl 2 the camera angle.. voiceline mentions being number 1 star and his talents and if u know mao's complication with both of those things from ex. autumn live it really makes u think that NO FUCKING WAY HAPPYELE IS ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING WITH MAO'S CHARACTER

his complication with being number 1 is the fact as a kid this guy always wanted 2nd place as to not hurt anyone if he got 1st he's a guy who doesn't want conflict and is a general people pleaser so the fact it looks as though he's looking down on us means he truly is at the top

he's at the top but at the same time he's stretching a hand out.. he's accepting and actually competing for the top but at the same time he still stays true to the part of him that wants to help others also goes along with the fact that trickstar may've been at the top at some point but they were still approachable..

the star thing where mao considers himself as a mere flashlight compared to the bright stars that the other trickstar members are his whole inferiority complex that soon gets shaped into him using his low self esteem as a flashlight that although he may not shine as bright he can still be the person he wants to be by being able to be other peoples sides as their light.. however this time he WANTS to be at the top of the sky as a true genuine star just like the trickstar who showed him true wonder whom he wishes to be with

the chandelier in the bloomed shining down at him to show how bright he is now is so good i love it

mao thinks himself of as a jack of all trades master of none so he thinks he has no outstanding talent but regardless of his own interpretation of himself he's going to push through it in fact the amount of effort this guy is willing to put in no matter how much it takes or troublesome that's his talent it seems ordinary on paper to mao but really it's a part of what makes him so important to the people around him who see him so brightly that he just doesn't seem to see for himself

i was so worried that mao being one of the first 2 4piece auditioners would mean he was only setup for 4piece exposition and be pushed to the side again but now it feels as though it's an ending to mao's arc that was left started in autumn live but never received an ending

i really am excited for this story but at the same time i'm also holding myself back for probably the more obvious conclusion of nothing really happening or something big happening that really ends with nothing but if happyele can AT LEAST let this be a push for mao's character in the 2nd year of !! era i'll be a happy man this is what i've been waiting for For so so long

first mao card of 2nd year of !! era being a love letter to his character makes me really happy it feels as though i could die

[rassebers]

(Silly trio in fighting anime) ok. shonen won this time guys

[zigtheeortega]

they're flipping tyril off <3

i wiped my computer recently and found this in the depths of my commissions folder when backing everything up – i can't believe i forgot about this gorgeous piece! thank you so much to @plejaades for capturing my vision! i miss zilyana and mal a lot and i have not played blades 2... but happy book finale day to all who celebrate !!! :)

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[mossy-starlight666]

some of these bots names remind me of Homestuck pesterchum handles lol

[willowser]

you feel like home (you're like a dream come true)—

bakugou x reader

wc: 3k+

tags: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 359+, explicit language, angst, this is trash garbage but it's how i'm coping

Dynamight wins the For-All Selfless Service Award.

A wet, cement-like dread fills your belly at the sound of his name echoing across the atrium, thunderous and so powerful that, for a split-second, you fear it will shatter the glass ceiling.

It's like the awakening of an old God, one that wanted to be left well enough alone; summoning him is a swarm of night-black clouds, filled with ample rain to drown all those that dared disturb his slumber. Not a breath is spared as you all wait for the downfall.

Beside you, Masaru shifts, turning in his chair to peer out over the sea of well-dressed tables and shining Heroes, as if he's lost his own. It's not until Red Riot shuffles sheepishly across the lit stage, waving shyly as he accepts the golden FA Best Jeanist is cradling gently in his hands.

There's a hint of hesitation before the retired Pro relinquishes it, a small exchange that's lost to the low blooming chatter across the ballroom. Kirishima beams a signature smile as he takes it and has to lean down into the mic, like the gentle giant he is.

Almost in unison, the room heaves a collective sigh; disaster avoided.

"I know Dynamight is so honored to receive this…honor,"

It's been a long time since you've seen him.

"So on his behalf, I want to thank everyone that has supported him all these years—"

Been a long time since anyone has.

Bakugou's been out-stationed for a half-decade, maybe more, but you can still remember the tension lining his face in the flat light of the train station. In public, with his parents and friends and their ready goodbyes.

All he'd given you was an insincere glare, half a hug, and a gritted demand to call him later, once he'd arrived at his new agency. It seemed a silly request; he's always been terrible about voicing how he feels, maybe a little smoother on the phone and out of sight, but just as stilted and unsure as ever.

On the high definition screens above the stage, photos of him shuffle, too reminiscent of a memorial to settle your upset. Stills from recorded footage of his takedowns and captures, of his rescues. The same ID picture on his Hero profile, from when he was 22, and his graduation photo. A smile haunts your face; he's never been one for cameras.

Masaru settles back into his seat, straightens his tie and shrugs at the team, who are all watching him with crest-fallen faces. You try to stay neutral, avoiding all their gazes as you fiddle with an eloquently folded napkin on the table.

Like a child, some giddy part of you hoped to see him take the stage, accept the award in all his glory. Unashamed and confident as ever, not so disheartened by his loss, because that's always been Bakugou.

But a small part of you is relieved; he's not a stage monkey and it wouldn't be Bakugou either, to give a rehearsed speech of false thanks. Blowing it off, a fuck you to what remains of the Comission—that's more like it. You want to believe it means some things haven't changed.

The show plays on without another hitch, something that bothers you, and when your coworker leans in to whisper a harmless "I wonder where he's at", you are up and abandoning the table, set on a mission of unknown expectation. The wants in your body are all coalescing into one another—to find him, to never see him again, to come clean about how you feel, whatever that may be—becoming a resounding overlap of voices that set you to autopilot.

You heard his voice last nearly six months ago, when Masaru called his number on speakerphone so the team could sing him a happy birthday. It was met with ill-tempered complaint, irritated at his father blowin' up my phone for nothin', but Masaru was smiley as ever, unaffected.

How jealous you were; if only the tone of his voice could mean so little to you.

It's something you remembered often in the middle of the night, when you would turn to the empty space of your bed and recall how pliable he was, whenever he worked up the courage to stay with you. Bakugou would let you kiss his cheeks or poke at his stomach or hold his hand—little affections he was too resistant to in the daytime. He would always claim to be half-asleep and unaware, but you'll never forget the red gleam of his eyes as he watched you through his long, dark lashes.

When you come into the open lobby of the hotel, you find it astonishing to see his solid figure at the bar-top, suit jacket haphazardly draped over the chair he's in; it's rare that he drinks, only on few occasions with Masaru and the requisite glass of champagne at events such as these—though he doesn't attend many. After everything that's happened, all that's been said in his wake, to see him now is—

Not Godly. Just a man.

You sit to his left, without a word. Maybe if you were a better person, you could say that it was for his benefit, that you're offering the space for him to reveal himself at his own choice—and while those things aren't untrue, the matter of the fact is that you don't think you're ready to see it just yet.

There's only a half-empty glass of water in front of him, and he's drawing lazy, mindless doodles into the frost with his left hand. His right arm is still entirely bandaged, wrapped up in a sling he's keeping close to his chest.

If he recognizes you at all when you sit down, he acknowledges nothing, minutely raising a shoulder as if to curl further into himself. The bartender takes your request for a glass of water, too, and at the sound of your timid voice, Bakugou stills completely.

For a long time, you've thought about this moment. What you would say upon seeing him again. There's a script somewhere in the ridges of your mind that's been perfected, one you've poured over and over again on sleepless nights, when you felt alone and angry and hated him.

The last full conversation the two of you had was set up similarly; chock-full of tension, trying to hide from the obvious as it made space between you. How unfair it felt, to be mad over something that hadn't gotten the chance to blossom just yet.

No point in tryin'. Gonna be gone for, shit, I don't know. Should just find someone else.

You felt ashamed for loving him so badly. For wanting him more than anything and being unwilling to voice it.

All you care to say now is, "It's so good to see you again."

It directs him to you immediately, though when you dare to look up, he turns, ducking his chin on his right side. The very notion of it makes you sick; not the wreckage itself, but what it's done to him, how it must make him feel if he can't even look at you.

To be so afraid of it initially wells a guilt the size of his tight fist in your chest. How selfish. How vain.

Bakugou tries to speak, but has to clear his throat once. "You—got some weird thing with my dad, or what?"

You let out a sudden spark of laughter, bewildered at the question. You make a face, considering, and take a sip of water. "I mean, he is pretty handsome."

"You're disgusting."

A balloon of relief airs in your lungs as you laugh again; some things never change. From the corner of his eye, the sound draws his attention again, gaze jumping from your face to your dress and back to the safety of his glass.

"No," you tell him, "I'm on his team designing costumes, and stuff."

A wave of embarrassment washes over you that he didn't even know about your career. With as much time as your work squad spends with the Bakugou family, you would think that you would have been mentioned, at least once.

In fact, you're certain it must have been brought up; Masaru cares too much. Buys you special edition mugs on your birthday and brings coffee for everyone on those early mornings, is the last to leave some days. On the news that morning, when they'd broadcasted the battle—Dynamight's Downfall?—you were the first person he'd looked at before rushing off to find his wife.

Either Bakugou never wanted to hear about it, you, or he's just scrounging for conversation.

Silence settles as you ponder. When you come back to the here and now, you take in what you can of him; the smooth plane that he allows you of his face, the few faint scars that have appeared in the time since you last were together; his hair is a little shorter now, albeit just as ashen and wild, not tamed in the slightest; the top two open buttons of his shirt, and the tie that barely hangs around his neck. You're surprised he even put it on.

It dawns on you how much he must have changed over the years, even before all this. How much you've missed. Traitorous tears sting the backs of your eyes and you have to sniff to keep a handle on your composure, and not a second of it goes unnoticed by Bakugou; you become aware of the anxious jerk of his leg as he bounces it, how he shifts and curls and clears his throat.

Begrudgingly, he murmurs, "'m not takin' that damn award."

You hum with assent, leaning forward to cross your arms on the bar, prop your chin in your palm. "I don't blame you, it's like," you shake your head, thinking, "'Thank you for your service. Sorry you almost died.'"

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he takes a drink of water. "For fucking real."

You'd said it carelessly as a joke to ease the tension, settle the nerves bubbling in your stomach, but now that the words are out, the mention has you feeling ill again.

It's all anyone has been talking about for days: Bakugou’s damage, how much he must have suffered, how he'll never be the same again. To hear it, and then to speak of the calamity to the man himself—it adds weight, that slow-drying cement.

Selfishly, you think of him before, when you were both young and standing at the precipice of something neither of you knew how to handle. If you'd known what you know now, you wouldn't have let him walk away. You wouldn't have agreed quietly, broke your own heart because you were afraid.

Another wave of emotions swallows you, and no matter how fast you blink or how far back you tilt your head, the tears rise and fall.

If you speak any louder than a whisper, you'll crack. "I was with your dad that day, we all were, because he always leaves the news on, you know? Keeps it—keeps it muted in the workshop, and when he—when the volume went up and we all looked and—" you frown, hard and dissolving, and hate how it must make you look. "And all I could think about was all the things I never said to you that I—"

In a flash, Bakugou shoves away from the bar, grabbing his jacket as he rounds the chair and mutters, "I can't listen to this right now."

You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hold back the sob that threatens to ruin you, but the fissures run deep, echo down to your bones.

Some things never change; he's always had one foot out the door with you, ready to run at the first sign of that all-encompassing feeling he didn't know how to escape. On the rare nights he allowed himself to spend with you—even then he wore a deep frown, tucked his face into the crook of your neck as if he wanted to stay buried there. Held you tightly, enough to leave little reminders long after he was gone.

The first time he'd kissed you, he shouldn't have and you both knew that. After graduation, waning in the shadow of his looming departure. The shitty studio apartment you rented, that cost more than it was worth; Kirishima and Bakugou agreed to help move what few things you had at the dorms, what was left over at your parent's house. It wasn't much, but the process went much smoother with the two of them.

You'd spent most of the summer together, by chance, and all of your efforts went into diverting the feelings that threatened to grow under your surface. Most everyone that you knew was quick to issue a warning: Bakugou wasn't interested. In all the time they'd known him in school, very little of his attention went to girls and dating, and setting your sights on him was a doomed task.

At that point, you'd refused to acknowledge that's what you'd done; Bakugou made sure everyone got home safely and not just you; he got lunch with Kiri and Mina just as often as you two did; he didn't look at you in the dark any special way, so close on the couch as a movie danced on the TV screen.

It must have been an accident—that's what you tried to tell yourself for a long time.

After the boxes were moved in and Kirishima was gone, he stood in your tiny kitchen and claimed to hate it. Opened the cabinets and poked at your oven and tested the temperature of your freezer, looked through the narrow window that offered a view of—nothing: the back of a small pharmacy.

You asked him what was wrong and his face twisted up, like he was going to be sick or cry and then he grabbed you. Hands trembling against your face and tangling in your hair, lips clumsy and harsh, furious like always. Like it was his last chance.

Half a decade later, more than, and you still swell at the thought of him.

You wipe a hand under your eyes gingerly, wary of your airbrushed makeup, before sliding off the chair. The rest of the team has probably conjured up all manner of conspiracies as to where you are, and perhaps you should tell Masaru of his son's state.

When you turn to retreat, however, Bakugou is standing there. Not ten feet from you, like he meant to run before thinking better of it. Fully open. Bare.

Human.

The right half of his face is still tender, shiny and raw, and his eye is ringed in red. It's jarring; Bakugou has always been a pretty boy, despite his animosity towards the label, and the tabloids stay littered with mentions of him and his dangerously good looks.

There's been nothing but speculation about how he's come out and you'd been admittedly nervous, because you were afraid to find that you were more vain than you'd ever known, unable to look upon what remains of the boy you knew.

But to see it so blatant; the untouched side of his face in comparison to what's been war-torn.

All you can think is—

"I'm so glad you're still here."

You don't miss the shine that waters his left eye or how hard he swallows, averting his gaze even further. When you step up to him, he doesn't resist you, only lets out a breath you feel as you run your hands across the marble of his chest.

Despite everything, you waver with a watery laugh that captures him again, because you mean it. All the years and anger and hope and terror and silence and waiting—it holds no candle to him, here and alive and looking at you as he did in your kitchen that day.

Carefully as you can, you wind yourself up in him, around his sling and neck and pressed as close as you can be, and it's not until you nose against his throat that he wraps his arm around you. Tight, like it might be his last chance.

"You," he murmurs, and you can feel how hard he's clenching his jaw from the way it digs into your cheek. "And the shit you didn't say?" Bakugou breathes in sharply, unaware of how deep his fingers dig into the skin your dress exposes. "All I could think about is what I did say, how fuckin' stupid—"

I'm leavin', so don't—I can't—just, don't expect anything from me.

All the long nights and dropped calls and heartbreak and distance—it holds no candle to him, here and alive and looking down at you through his dark, wet lashes.

You slip up onto your toes and kiss him as you've wanted to for years, as you were too afraid to; fingers gentle against his cheek, thumbing the edge of his jaw, passing all that you've kept from him through slow and purposeful lips.

It takes him off guard, which you expected, but only a moment passes before he's gripping you with intent, melding into you as his trembling hand goes to your neck. You can't help the smile you curl into, one he feels, and Bakugou huffs, annoyed, before slanting his head, parting your lips with his own as he dissolves.

It's foreign now, to what it was years ago. Unhurried, no longer afraid, giving instead of taking all that he could hold in both hands. Half a decade later, maybe more, and you swell at the promise of him, the thud of his still-beating heart as it echoes in your chest.

And then there's a loud roar of applause from down in the award show room and you freeze, suddenly put back into place as the sound of glasses clinking and heels on the tile and murmured conversation surrounds you.

"Sorry," you gasp, trying—and failing—to pull away as his hold tightens. Insistent, like it will never slacken again. "We're in public."

"Don't care," Bakugou rasps, gently butting his forehead against your own as he sighs, great and lax and slow. Just before he goes to kiss you again, he says, "'m just glad I'm still here."

[pigeonrobespierre]

Finally got the Hollow City graphic novel :>

I usually don't read in Italian but it was such a rare find aaahhh. I adore the artstyle, these are so cute!

[fuckyeahyukiharu]

yOU ALL IM LAUGHING SO HARD

The archive is still there too, and all those fans who created works in the past still deserve some attention too, so please check out the archive if you haven't in a while and if you're also missing Tsuritama!!

Also, if you're interested, please check out my YukiHaru A.M.V \o/ (Made a few years back for YukiHarus shared birthdays specifically!)

{All I did was reblog some old gifs I missed to keep blog active, but I'm glad if people still appreciate this blog existing!!!}

(I may also have another A.M.V. or two planned for future years, if I can finish them in decent time!)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[kindahoping4forever]

I miss your fics. I hope you’re doing well tho

I appreciate this, thank you 🥹

For the record, I miss my fics too! This unofficial hiatus has been out of necessity rather than choice, and I can honestly say there hasn't been a day where I don't fantasize about A Grand Return. 💙

[taeminning]

hi c:

[simgerale]

hope everyone is doing well!!! ♥ made a cute fairy girl as an excuse to post something lol

[ladyseidr]

okay hello car.rd isn't finished but that's okay, all muses listed on it are still open for business. i also have a new theme and things are feeling! clearer! less overwhelming here now! so uh. hello. shoving my muses at you. comes harass them if you'd like

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!