#i've been here almost ten years but i don't have roots i don't have long term goals

[handlewithcharacter]

I'm in my "say fuck it, quit everything, pack a single bag, and go move to a small seaside town in New England" feels again

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hey hey hey I have had a hell of a day (Actually Hell) because I did too many fun things (a problem apparently) and then also we put up the christmas tree leading to the inevitable christmas tree installation arguments (they pop up every year like clockwork!)

anyway i have been overstimulated and stressed (just want to emphasize that there is NO pressure here whatsoever! id like to avoid any semblance of that actually and I know you're already working on 12 days so take your time) and it would be very cathartic to see chris dealing with similar issues (the Wonderful guy. we are pretty similar.) thanks a lot for reading this, even if you don't write anything !

Sorry this took so long, Anon! I swear I've been trying to get this written for literally almost two months now

CW: Some references to Chris's past, overstimulation, anxiety

"Hey, where did Chris go?" Laken blinks and looks around, but the living room of the house they rent - filled with laughing, happy people - shows no sign of Chris's telltale lavender hair with its new-penny copper roots.

One of Brit's friends just shrugs at them and gestures, vaguely, in the direction of the kitchen. "Dunno. He wandered off a while ago, maybe that way?"

"Oh, okay. Huh." Laken steps back, the circle of laughing people closing up tight as soon as they do. Their dark eyes scan the room, but there's no sign of him.

He'd been doing great - all but holding court, one of the most popular people at the party. He's sort of famous, since the Olympics, and people had been peppering him with questions and compliments, crowding around wanting nothing more than to be friends with the ex-pet who stood up to the bad guys on live TV. They'd seen him dancing, too, the music loud enough to nearly make the walls shake. The easy, unselfconscious dancing they loved in him the most.

He'd seemed to be enjoying himself, at the time, but...

Where has he gone?

They weave around people, stopping to pick up an ornament that has fallen off the tree. The scent of pine is subtle and ever-present, and they carefully work the ornament's little loop back over a branch, ruefully watching a couple of pine needles come loose and drift down. The damn thing is already starting to turn a little brown around its edges, thanks to Laken's roommate having insisted on buying it literally the day before Thanksgiving.

Laken doesn't even celebrate Christmas, not since they stopped going to Mass on Christmas Eve years and years ago. Still, in a house they rent with three others, they're the only one who doesn't at least pay lip service to the holiday.

And even if they don't give a fuck about Christmas, they do like having an excuse to throw a party.

The tinsel wrapped in spirals around, over, and below the ornaments glitters in the light, and the look makes them think of Chris, and how his eyes have always looked just the same, to them, when they're out at night and the moon hits the green of his irises just right.

Their search leads them to Ben, contentedly sitting on the couch, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, quietly reading something there while the party is in full swing around him. He glances up and then instinctively, immediately, uses a finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Hey, Laken. What's up?"

"Is Akio not coming tonight?"

"Oh... no." Ben blushes - it's adorable, and Laken can't help the smile playing around their lips. "He's got some kind of meeting with the gymnastics team, or his coaches? Or... something like that. He said sorry, though."

"Nah, no problem. But, hey, so. Uh, have you seen Chris, like within the last ten minutes or so??"

Someone puts Christmas music on and Laken shudders as they hear that damn 80s pop song start up again. If they have to hear that fucking song one more time...

"Nope. Not in a while." Ben shrugs, taking a drink. Whatever he has in that cup is pinkish-red and probably far more alcoholic than it tastes. Laken's roommate had insisted on a signature cocktail. "You could check outside? Sometimes when there's a lot of people, to Chris it's... too much."

Laken nods, still scanning the crowd, but their stomach knots a little with the first hit of real anxiety. Ben is right, Chris can get overwhelmed by too much noise and movement, but also he's been drinking tonight - they saw the same red punch in a cup in his hands earlier - and he has a tendency to get... hazy, when he drinks. Flirty in ways that aren't natural to him. Willing to let people hug him that he doesn't like, unable to bring himself to stop them. Sometimes his stammer smooths out, which makes people who don't know him feel more comfortable and people who do know him nervous. He starts tipping his head to the side in a way that makes the sweep of his growing-out hair hide the scar on his forehead, biting his lower lip when he smiles. It makes Laken feel a little sick to see it happen and realize Chris doesn't even notice when he's doing it.

The last thing they need is to have to come up with an explanation for Chris losing track of himself again, or why he's eating olives off the charcuterie board Brit brought knowing damn well he'll just go to the bathroom and get sick all over the place again, or... fuck, what if somebody hits on him and he's too drunk to stop it?

That hasn't happened since college, but...

They pull their phone out, uneasily checking for a text, but there's nothing. If he went outside, he'd text, right? He does, he always does. Texts can be easier and Chris is always a little nervous about being outside alone.

He insisted on coming tonight, said he was feeling good lately, but-... what if-...

They flinch when fingers touch their arm, only to see Ben must have stood up when they weren't looking. He slips his own phone into his jacket pocket and looks Laken over more closely. "Hey. It's okay, he's probably fine. You know he gets weird when parties are really going. It's like a light switch, enough to too much, I totally get it. It's why I'm on the couch fucking around on Kindle instead of, you know... talking to people." Ben says it like talking to people is literal hell, and... okay, Laken can see how that might be the case. "He probably just needed to get away from it and wandered off."

"Uh, yeah. I know." Laken rubs at the back of their neck, fingers moving through the soft, shorn undercut beneath their longer black waves. "I'm sure that's it. Just... you know, sometimes he... when he gets nervous..."

"I got you." They adore Ben, sometimes, for how often they don't have to finish the sentences they don't want to say. He knows what words haven't yet spilled, unwilling. Sometimes he acts like he belongs to us, not like he loves us. Sometimes I can't trust him to find his way back on his own. Sometimes I feel like Jake, and I hate feeling like Jake.

Words die in their throat.

Ben squeezes their arm, gently. "Let's split up and search around. I'll go outside, you go around the house, okay? We verify how he is, then whichever one finds him tells the other. Sound good?" Ben smiles, and Laken relaxes a little, finding a smile for him in return.

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Ben."

"No problem." Ben has always understood Chris, thanks to his little brother being similar in some ways. He understands Laken's worry, too, because better than anyone else here - he knows how Chris sometimes gets lost in his past, especially if he's drinking, worse the maybe twice Laken's ever seen him try an edible or a pill.

What if he got drunk and someone offered him something and he took it? Drunk Chris sometimes isn't a Chris who can easily turn down anything he's offered.

This party was a stupid idea.

Laken takes a deep breath and squares their shoulders.

Chris is not a child.

He is a goddamn grown man and Laken is not his keeper. They're not his parent and they're not a babysitter. They're definitely not his fucking... owner or whatever the bastards that hurt him would have called it. They're his partner. He can handle himself, better than they could if they'd lived his life, and they need to trust him to either know his limits and to get away if he can't say no, or to come to them if he wants to ask for help. Otherwise, they're not any better than the bullshit he's been buried in for longer than he's known them.

Ben goes to check outside, slipping silently out the sliding door onto the back porch where a small crowd has congregated in a cloud of skunky smoke, while Laken heads upstairs, peeking their head in to room after room with no sign of him anywhere. They see some movement under a pile of coats, but that's... definitely not Chris, based on the very female voices who yell at them to give them some fucking privacy, please.

"Sorry, Brit," Laken calls, closing the door tightly. "And, um, Leigh. Just looking for Chris-"

"Well, he isn't in here or we'd have kicked him out already," Brit says, cranky but without any real anger in her voice. Laken doesn't recognize the redhead whose eyes pop up from beneath the pile of coats next to her. "Check a different room."

"Yeah, I will. Uh... keep having fun, I guess-"

"That's the plan! Now leave, please!"

The door latches as they close it, and they exhale. There's one room left, at the end of the hall, and they can hear a familiar murmuring from behind the door when they press their ear up against it.

Laken knocks, rapping gently with their knuckles, and turns the knob when they hear no answer - but no demand to stay out either. The murmuring goes silent. They sigh, and the door swings open, light cutting across the carpet until it reveals their wayward boyfriend.

No one has claimed this bedroom yet, so it's bare and empty except for a couple unpacked cardboard boxes, Brit's exercise bike by the window, a couple of her yoga mats, a laundry basket with a few folded towels, and a bare mattress the last housemate had left behind on the floor when they moved out.

Laken's lips press together, eyes scanning the room. Chris's phone is on the mattress, along with an empty beer bottle, but Chris isn't. "Chris? Cariño?"

A muffled rustling makes them jump, heart in their throat, and then they realize the sound came from the closet, where the folding doors are closed. Laken pulls them open to reveal Chris curled up, knees nearly to his chin, an open bottle clutched in one hand, his chewy necklace in the other. He'd chosen the bat one tonight, and his hand is closed around it in such a tight fist Laken can tell his knuckles are white even in the dark.

Chris doesn't look at them. He's swaying, rocking forward and back, his eyes focused on something far, far away from them. There's red lines on his left wrist, where he's dug his nails in, scratching not quite deep enough to draw blood, but close. Laken takes a deep breath, shifting into a crouch.

"Talk to me, Chris."

"No." The answer is flat, and they watch his thumb rub over the little nub of the silicone bat's nose, the points of its tiny ears. "No, no, no. No."

At least he's saying it out loud.

That alone makes the knot of anxiety in their chest start to loosen. If he can say no, he isn't gone, maybe just... standing a little farther back, inside his own head, than the surface.

"Okay. Okay, that's fine. No talking, that's fine. Are you okay, baby?" Laken keeps their voice just above a whisper and lays their hand on the wood trim that frames this shitty excuse for a closet, the floor creaking under them. "You... kind of vanished on me, there."

Chris's eyes flick to them and then away again. "Loud," He manages, and he sounds like he's forcing the word out between gritted teeth. Maybe he is. "Too, too, too... too loud. Too much, too... many."

"I guess Ben called it." Laken sighs, pulling out their phone and sending Ben a quick text that they found Chris and everything's fine. they get a thumbs-up in reply almost immediately. Ben must have been as anxious as they are, if he was just watching for their text to come in. "Do you want me to call Jake to come get you, or..."

"No!" He snaps it, and Laken tries not to wince. He's just struggling with the noise of the party, they tell themself, he's not actually angry. Chris almost never gets angry, and even then it's only at himself. Which... is worse, somehow. "No. Just... Quiet, it's... it's it's quiet."

"Right. Do you want me to stay with you? Be quiet with you?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything else. His mouth moves, but no further sounds come out.

"Chris, did..." They want to ask, did someone say something to you? Sometimes people said things, referenced pets or something in a way that set him off. But even if someone had... he probably wouldn't tell them, at least not now, not when every word seemed to have to filter through layer after layer of self-protection in his mind. "Never mind. Is there anything I can do for you? Water, or..."

He shakes his head. "No. Just. Um. Quiet... quiet, now. Please?"

"Yeah." Laken leans over and presses a kiss to his hair. He tips his head against their lips and they exhale in relief. "I love you, Chris. Come back if you can, but if you can't, that's okay, too. Just don't hurt yourself, okay? Things should start winding down in a couple hours." They take the little plastic bat and push it against the hand that's still scratching at his shoulder, until he takes hold of it again, pressing it against his mouth and running it back and forth, back and forth.

Chris is quiet, but as they open the door to head back into the hallway, they hear a quiet, "Love, love you," from Chris, barely audible.

They smile as they close the door. Down the hall, the sounds of the party hit them like a brick, beckoning them back to the noise and the cheer and the awful fucking Christmas music still blaring at top volume. Someone yells something out and the whole damn crowd cheers, making Laken wince at it feels nearly deafening.

Maybe Chris has the right idea.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3653

today marks ten years since i started these entries.

the day i started was august 7th, 2014.

today is august 7th, 2024.

it doesn't feel like it's been all that long at all.

as i made this realization this morning, i was able to spend the day and think about how i've changed over the last ten years, about the things that have happened, about the person i've become. about what i would say to me ten years ago.

the long and short of it is this:

i grew up.

and i don't like thinking about it that way because that means my childhood is long gone, never to return. that everything from here on out is going to be hard.

so as i sit here crying, mourning that loss that i will never truly recover from, i also reflect on the personal growth i've made.

i have less tolerance for bullshit and i'm not afraid to have opinions. i found a group of people who love me for who i am and not what i can do for them. yes i am living paycheck to paycheck, but i no longer consider myself completely broke. i've gotten better at managing my time and my money. i've earned not one, not two, but three separate degrees, the highest of which was earned from a prestigious university. i have a close relationship with my sister. i've reconnected with some high school friends. i've lost so many other friends due to circumstances i was unwilling to accept any longer. i've loved and lost, but i'm happy to have loved. and even now, i have a partner who i've been with for more than half of the decade! and it's been wonderful.

i've had a dozen different jobs in different industries, i've used my knowledge to help people in a lot of places. i've made friends with people across the world and i've seen people blossom into who they're truly meant to be. and i know that everyone is a work in progress. so am i.

i'm not quite done yet. i'm almost ready to come out of the oven.

and maybe the closet, too.

in all of my thoughts today, the ones that have stood out the most have been of how i treat other people and my mental health. over the years, i've seen people from high school who i didn't really spend time around because they were in the "popular" crowd. i instantly recognized them. they were probably too busy to even try to think of where they might've known my face from. but i've learned that it's important to treat people with kindness, respect, and love, regardless of your personal history with them. that everyone deserves respect and dignity, regardless of who they are. of course, even i have my limits, but those who are out of the limits of my patience and care are usually bigots, fascists, neo-nazis, and any combination of things including any of those parts.

and my mental health - what a difference. it's night and day for how it is in my head. being properly medicated and stable and KNOWING that's it's more than "just depression" or "just anxiety" and having a therapist who understands all of it? it's a game-changer. it's great.

what i would tell myself ten years ago would be mostly about how it ends up and the process of getting there. you end up stable. you get a therapist who you love and who helps you get to the root of the trauma you don't even realize you have yet. you have people who love you more than you even know. people love you for who you are, mental illnesses, disabilities, and all. you take up crafting and d&d and playing games. you meet someone adorable and hilarious and he makes your days brighter. you lose your faith and your friends, but after all the anger and grief, you come out stronger than you ever thought you could be. and despite all of the horrors you see in the world, you're still softer than you think. you count bunnies on the way into work. you cry over your waitress, begging the universe to let her smile freely. you smile at and wave to a perfect stranger who doesn't speak your language on your way back to your car, even after a long day.

there's a lot of pain, yes.

but there is so much more beauty than you can possibly imagine.

see it. feel it. embrace it.

but most importantly, share it.

[prince-liest]

your orchids are so cool! can we see the entire collection?

I will ABSOLUTELY show more photos of my current hyperfixation, ehehehe, thank you so much! <3 I've moved the cattleya to my eastern windowsill and my dendrobium nobile is chilling in the place of honor on the kitchen counter where my biggest bloomer at any given point in time goes, and one of my violets is also in my bedroom for some pizzazz, but the rest of the orchids and violets/streps are on this plant shelf!

She's a bit tall, so I've added the dendrobium nobile (Angel Moon 'Love Letter,' lovely but mild fragrance!) side by side to avoid stretching the dash too much, haha. I have it lit with Barrina LED lights on timers, and they have a super cozy glow, don't let my camera auto-editing the lighting to be so stark fool you.

The top row is hard to get a good zoomed out pic of because the Oncostele Red Silk 'HOF' flower spike is so damn tall, so I've cut it out of the pic since it's not blooming yet - but soon! This is where I try to keep all my currently-blooming flowers, and the oncidium takes up a ton of space at the moment... and as you may be able to see, the yellow and harlequin phalaenopsis are soon to be losing their blooms! They're both growing new leaves and roots at the moment, and the yellow phal actually has been in bloom on the same spikes for 9 months straight, which is absolutely insane. They're both no ID grocery store plants, which tend to be bred for really prolific blooms!

The second row is currently housing my blooming violet and strep, as well as my two smaller non-blooming streps. The bottom left one is actually a mini, so it will be staying in that small pot forever! One of the huge pros of violets for me is that they don't really exceed a 4" flower pot size ever, no matter if you've had them ten months or ten years.

The mini strep is Fernwood's Silhouette, the larger one is DS Riushele (google this one, the blooms are a deep purple and super frilly!), the violet is Frosty Cherry, and the far right strep is Bristol's Mascara!

The bottom row is where I try to keep my currently non-blooming orchids, but the little rescue I found at the store with most of the flower spike snapped off and one measly (and super pretty) flower left made it down there as well for lack of space, haha.

The tallest plant here is a Dancing Lady oncidium orchid that has an amazing and strong fragrance. It used to be in my kitchen and filled the whole kitchen area with its scent in the mornings! The smallest orchid in the clear pot is actually one I kidnapped (with permission) from my program director's office to rehab it, lol. I'll be giving it back once it puts out another flower spike. The big pot on the bottom right has a pure white phalaenopsis that's currently growing a new flower spike for the third time in my care, and it's a flower that my mom gave me, so it holds a special place in my heart!

Then the very top left tiny phalaenopsis orchid is just a little purple grocery store mini that had almost no roots left for a long time. It's flowered twice in my care before I messed up its roots trying to separate it from being double-potted, so I'm very proud that it's now growing a new leaf. And lastly the two violets are Cajun's Queen's Lace (left) and PT Wild Plum (right, post plant surgery).

And that's the orchids and violets! :D I actually have, uh. Checks watch. 41 plants including hoyas, nerve plants, a fiddle leaf fig, and a pothos, not to mention the aquarium garden and the edible patio plants, so this isn't actually all of them, but the rest are elsewhere in the house and aside from the ones I mentioned in the first paragraph aren't in the orchid/violet category!

[justslowdown]

Because I don't think I'll be sharing most of my art, I'm going to talk about the internal processes that have been unfolding.

Pulling out my collage supplies again, poring over nature books and 1975 Nat Geo articles to pluck phrases from, marked the start of an era. Leaning into my uncomfortable sincerity!

Embodying joy and the gift of senses through taking living seriously. And with caring soft fondness for the silliness of it all.

I feel like I'm holding the human parts of me, and everyone else through that, with maternal unconditional love. It took discovering ways to maintain the core of spirituality as a layer of daily experience. Integrating that has been a difficult and almost decade long journey now.

I've felt so embarrassed to just not... get... this whole pretending to only be a lone human brain piloting a meat body, thing.

That's an artifact of our modern time and isn't the baseline of any culture. How egotistical to say we know better than tens of thousands of years of humans as ritual, trance state, animist beings. More than that, even before we became Homo sapiens!

The discovery of the cave full of Homo naledi ritual graves... fire, art, the symbology of descending deep with illuminating flames to honor your dead despite the risks. A tool to CREATE art placed with infinite tenderness in a dead child's hand.

I'll take truly offputtingly intense and sincere over pretending to be fully in This World. One foot here, the other in that place I know many of you have also felt, that words can't be put to. Where art roots in.

More and more now, that sensation underneath everyday life, which feels profoundly more meaningful and important through it. Even as the smallness and insignificance of daily life and challenges becomes so much clearer.

Another thing I've shed any embarrassment of--trance state through mushrooms. They are an earthy, rot-honoring, and infinitely interconnected ally in my journey. I've been a lot more careful and sparing with my psychedelic use compared to the first time I met this embodied spirituality, back in college. It was too frightening. I understand now why I needed to stop using them for my early-mid twenties. A pendulum swinging farther out than I was ready for.

Swinging back now to the same core state, but finding transcendent spine tingling beauty in nonduality, rather than horror at the devouring end of the Ourobouros. Hopefully I can hold this feeling close, instead of losing it as the pendulum continues to swing!

[satordl]

Ok, ✨STORY TIME✨, I guess

(but maybe "rant" would be more fitting)

Little Kings were my first ABDL diapers, before them I had only tried medical diapers: obscure local brands at first, then Tena slips, which at the time felt already like a huge achievement. I would get them from the pharmacy, only on the few days my roommate was out of town, and I was terrorized that a delivery of ABDL diapers would somehow be discovered and blow my cover. This and my almost complete isolation from the community left me of course in a frequent state of either craving, longing, lusting or all of the above, depending on the ✨inclination✨ of the moment.

Things changed around one year ago. In the meantime I had made this profile and become sliiightly less anxious (still working hard on it, I promise🫡), so I finally came to a conclusion. Maybe, just maybe, it would not be the end of the world if I took some precautions and finally ordered what I already suspected could be the diapers of my dreams. And so I did. I think it's better for my dignity (and here I am talking about dignity under various photos of myself in a giant baby diaper, ah! the irony) if I don't dwell too much on the less-than-flattering scenes which immediately preceded the arrival of the parcel, of me frantically running to the window to scan the road for any sight of the courier... approximately every ten second or so, for a good part of the morning.

Fortunately the actual delivery went by without notable accidents, and so I was finally the fortunate owner of a pack of ABDL diapers. It was almost indescribable. I grew up with the cloth-backed Pampers of early 2000s, with colors like pastel blue/green/yellow, and for my brain those are the only real diapers, the blueprint, the thing that has been so deeply ingrained in my thoughts that I have literally no memory of not wanting to wear them. With this premise in mind, Little Kings were the closest match I had seen that far. It was, in a sense, a bit like being reunited with a long lost friend... Of course, it wasn't an exact copy, but they provided a familiar sense of comfort, an invite to let go of anxiety and control over things, that was unlike any other previous adult diaper. It was, and is still valid, a mechanism deeply rooted in the sensory aspect, triggered by a mixture of texture (cloth-backed>>>>>), shape, colors and patterns.

Since then I've only tried two other ABDL brands (really few occasions to wear and even fewer places to hide them😭), and even if I had amazing experiences in both cases, which I hope to share in the future, I suspect that Little Kings will always have a special place in my heart ❤️✨

[littleslavediary]

8/20/2024

This is an old story I'm retroactively posting to my new tumbler blog. **Disclaimer: This story includes details about extreme domestic violence, if you are triggered by such content do not read it:**

My husband and I were sitting on the couch watching Youtube as usual. We got into some sort of argument and I started to hear a few voices in my head, especially Lilian an "imaginary" alien Dominatrix that often infiltrates my mind and commands me to do or say things.

I don't ever tell anyone about the voices I hear, but if I did I wouldn't admit how real and organic they are to me. To me this alien is a very real being telepathically communicating with me. I sat with my face in my hands on the couch.

He asked me, "What are you thinking about? What's wrong?"

For a long time I sat in dramatic silence, overwhelmed by Lilian and other voices in my head chanting insults at me, and not sure how I could possibly explain it to him. I didn't want to tell him.

Finally I blurted out, "I'm hearing voices."

I didn't expect him to become angry but he did.

"What? What do you mean?" He asked, I didn't reply.

"I don't believe you." He started, "Why haven't you mentioned it before?"

"I have told you I am Schizo. And I was on heavy medication against my will for years. I wasn't hearing the voices so I didn't mention it to you, I thought it was in the past."

"You know Schizophrenia is a a very particular thing. This sounds made up. And honestly I'm offended because I've known real Schizophrenics before and you don't know what they go through. This doesn't sound real at all."

By these statements I was perplexed and overwhelmed. He knows I have been hospitalized against my will more than ten times. He knows I was tortured (almost to death) in jail during one of my first psychotic episodes at the tender age of 22. I didn't expect him to react in disbelief. I wasn't at all prepared for this.

I asked him, "Haven't you heard about the Hearing Voices Network before? All sorts of people hear voices and--"

He interrupted me, "Why would you lie about something like this? You know it really breaks my trust. Honestly, it makes me regret marrying you. Do you want a divorce? Do you want me to drive you to the airport right now?"

"I'm not lying." I whispered, my voice meek and shaking.

Suddenly he exploded toward me on the couch, slapping me as hard as he could across the face, backwards and forwards at least six times. For the first time ever, I started to cry uncontrollably in front of him.

The strikes were so hard I heard loud ringing in my ears and my brain started to throb from bouncing against my skull so hard.

None of my tears slowed him down. He grabbed the red, burning and stinging flesh on my face. I looked into his amber brown eyes, which were filled with such rage and hostility.

"Are you going to keep lying to me?" he asked, squeezing his nails into my cheeks.

"I'm not lying," I wailed, tears and snot copiously falling down my burning skin and over his big rough hands.

He released me, "Then what do they say?"

Exhausted from the crying and panic attack I claimed it was too embarrassing to say. But they were like imaginary friends from my childhood that I couldn't get rid of.

"So they are Tulpas?" He asked, finally this mutual language from our spiritual discord server roots brought so much instant understanding to the conversation, and we talked for a while about Tulpas and calmed down.

I suppose this is one of the cultural differences between the West and the East. I am in the Middle East now and people are very different here. I am not used to being held to religious standards. The next day I woke up and remembered the interaction with fondness. It had felt good to cry that hard and his after care was good too. The voices are also less disturbing to me now and I feel better.

He has never shown remorse for responding this way and I have never expected him too. Yes, it's not perfect. It was dangerous and unpredictable, which is what I love the most about Daddy. So some people might think of this as a horror story, but to me it is just another chapter in my fairy tale.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I have to admit it's been really strange seeing the far left go full pro war neocon. More over it's been even more strange to see the far left go full racist and pro segregation. I really don't get it. See I've been told most of my life that it's the right that is racist. It's the right that's the bigots. It's the right that love war and conflict. As it turns out that's not the case.

For those that don't know, I've grown up in the south, between Texas and Louisiana. Christian conservatives EVERYWHERE. In truth, I hated my life sometimes growing up because there were quite a few times I was forced to go to church, after I had stopped going on my own. Me personally? I'm a libertarian moderate. Not an Ancap. And not an anarchist. And not wherever the BS definition of libertarian is these days. But I'm small l not big L. I consistently see people screw up stuff though. In what regard you might ask? People's belief that this comic is wrong-

And I'll see people say, "the right has moved further right for sure". In what way? No really aside from select CNN clips of actual extremists, what have they changed their mind on? Abortion? Nope same place they've been. Except some have moved further left on the matter. Gay rights? Nope same place they have been. They think the government should stay out of marriage entirely. Many have still moved left on the matter. Gun rights? Nope same place they've been for years except some have moved further left on the matter. Are you seeing a trend here? They've either stayed in the same place or moved closer to the middle. Meanwhile you have the modern neo liberal left, made this insane little poster:

Kinda funny because this entire poster which was up at the SMITHSONIAN MUSEUM implies that white people literally created everything. They created time, schedules, language, and just a bunch of other things in general that predate "white culture". Then you had stuff like this that more or less show the farther left you go the more likely you'll support white saviorism and racial segregation.

Because racial segregation is somehow fine so long as you're reasoning is "good". Frankly speaking, it's almost like white nationalism and bigotry has co-opted the far left and are now pushing it to it's most radical point as if trying to destroy what it means to be moderate.

Then we have tens of thousands of detransitioning TEENS and super young adults whom are being suppressed, ignored and treated as if they don't exist by radical trans activists. People whom think a 2yo can be trans. And when you ask them how they know they go, "oh well you see, they like girls clothing and act like a girl despite being a boy." Oh? So now the clothing got like makes you trans? Oh so a kids natural learning process, (imitating those around them to learn about the world) which means a little boy imitating mommy somehow makes a TODDLER trans? And before you say, "oh well what about the people that need to transition so they don't off themselves?" You mean the people that need to be in therapy? For probably years in hour long sessions where they are rebuked to see if they really are how they say they are? See fun fact about proper psychology. It has nothing to do with affirmation and everything to do with finding the root of what's going on actually is. And before you say, "body dysphoria proves it." No, it really doesn't. Everyone goes through body dysphoria. Especially today when there are people whom could pass as models all over social media. If I were growing up today? Having been raised by a number of Southern women, people would have probably tried to convince me I'm trans. Then I'd end up another sterilized youth, possibly with his junk removed, only to figure out later that what happened to me was peer pressure and uncertainty. Things we all go through. But what about all the kids and teens being mutilated chemicals and physically now? No one gives a shit about them. So long as one actual trans person gets what they "need" it's fine right? Sacrifice the many for the few right?

Never you mind the fact doctors and hormone medication companies are quite literally making absolute bank off of all this. Which in retrospect is even funnier. All the "liberals" who used to be anti big pharma are now bending over backwards to deep throat them. Making them realize they don't have to follow the rules they can just chase the money. Need proof of that too?

Huge money maker. (I'd also like to point out even the *healthcare capital of the world* the Scandinavian countries, have mostly shut down "affirmation" surgeries and medications.) And I could find more given more time. Transitions are at this point a for profit practice not a for health one. And detransitioners are being removed as if they don't exist. Then you have teachers now, trying to socially and politically indoctrinate kids. Which several undercover videos have more or less proven. The left very much moved to the extreme and it's beyond pushed by mainstream media, social media, and big corporations whom get their information of "what people like" from Twitter. It's not that moderates are right wing now. It's just that when you run as far from the middle as possible, trying to move what the middle is, you make it look like everything slightly right of Stalin is right wing. News flash.... It's not.

[lithi]

[translation of one of Spoon’s posts on her blog]

I just read on Spoon’s blog that she had herpes zoster in 2017, but I didn’t know what that was so I looked it up and

I hope Spoon is okay... I know she has some serious health issues, maybe it’s linked to that...?

She also has disc problems....

....And shingles

« hello, long time no see

To report on the status quo...

I'm having a hard time with a disc in my back because I only sit and work.

I bought a standing desk

When it hurts, touch the button and stop when you stand up~~

But I knew I would now be invincible, and after standing up for 8 hours at a time, I got sick and my feet hurt (Don't cross your legs.)

Even if it bothers you, sit and get up, sit and get up, sit up, get up, sit and get up..

I have cleared all immune-related diseases. Atopy, allergy, etc. Decorated with the last shingles (Fortunately, I caught it within the a good time and there was no major pain.)

I think I'm overdoing it because I'm really bad with shingles in my 20's... My whole body is full of diseases.. The immune system is only good to eat and rest well, so why do people have to make money?

Because of the disc, my body is really twisted a lot, so I am being corrected at the rehabilitation center, and after 3 months of correction, I improved a lot and am now 1 centimeter taller (I wasn’t standing upright and my body was bent to the side; like a pretzel)

Of course, my body is still messed up, but I hope it gets better...

And recently, because of stress, I kept clenching my teeth and my jaw joint came out. Usually, when temporomandibular joint disorder comes, I can't eat and lose weight, but I've learned to swallow without chewing (like a pig), because I have to eat something, so I won't die of sickness.

And surprisingly, insomnia also came back. What kind of magic is this year cursed with? The diseases comes back and forth

They say the root of all diseases is stress... But I have so many things to worry about

I was so sleepy I was going crazy because I couldn't sleep. I almost fell asleep, but then I woke up to the sound of my phone, I was so tired and almost cried ;;

I went to the hospital and got some medicine and got better. The hospital is the best..

I think my back will be bent due to hospital bills, but insurance is a big help. I didn’t get sick when I was younger, I thought I had taken [the insurance] for nothing? It’s been less than ten years, I didn’t expect I would use it that much... (Let's all get insurance. Make sure to go to the hospital to not loose your life..)

Things I drew when I first bought a desk

Maleficent Romance Fantasy Novel [This Is An Obvious Fraudulent Marriage]. The drawing of the male character feels a little bit sloppy (like he’s a drug addict right)

And I’m studying sketching

In March of this year, I didn't even know the based, but now I know how to draw buildings like that.. (Thanks to the YouTube tuto videos..) I'm very happy

It’s really a bummer, I’m like a primitive man sculpting with a stone tool (professionals used plug-ins, but I don’t know how to do that so I draw everything one by one..) It seems stupid, but I really don't know how ㅠㅠ Haha

I've never had anxiety about not being able to meet deadlines (I've done it for a long time, whether I was half dead or whatever) It's not a matter of ability or strength, but rather a matter of my body's inability to work, because it won’t follow [my orders]... [I have to] calm down...

So I'm living like this

I don't think I've ever wanted to tell you [all] something so painful.

It's not that moving is difficult or anything. I can do it , but it's a bit crooked here and there~ It's a bit sloppy here too~ If I get better here, it hurts there~ Ah~ I don’t want to break my concentration, but it hurts so much I have to take a break~ This is how it feels (a bit annoying)

When people say they want perfect health, people say that no one is perfectly healthy TT Haha, that’s reality.»

[mmvalentine]

Five Minutes | Feysand

I got this request from an ao3 user who later clarified they would like a "wrong bed fic" and I honestly don't even know what that is?!!! But of course I will give it a go...

The Day Court had the most beautiful theatre. Where the artists' quarter in Velaris was a passionate, bohemian little community, the theatre company of the Day Court was a high art rooted in millennia of culture and esteem. Rhys and Feyre were ushered down an honest-to-goodness red carpet on their way in, and their private box somewhere near the soaring arched ceiling was upholstered in rich, ox-blood velvet. Every ten years an invite went to all the courts for the grand opening of the Day Court's newest opera, and the event was the social gathering of the decade. The grandeur and class of the night was unrivalled across Prythian. And yet Rhys could not stop staring at Feyre's ass in that dress.

After being married for ten years, he really thought the urge to bend her over the nearest table would have dimmed. But there they were, given in the best seats in the house, with a production ten years in the making on its way, and all Rhys could do was drag his gaze over the curves of his mate's hind quarters. She was talking to someone, he had no idea who in the mother it was, and he was trying to look like he was listening as well while he snaked his arm around her and stroked his fingers over her hip.

In his defence, Feyre had spent a large portion of the last decade running after Nyx and wearing comfortable clothes that didn't mind getting all manner of stains and spills on them. Not that she wasn't achingly sexy in tights and one of his old sweaters, in fact his clothes on her drove him wild. But it had been a little while since she had worn something that hugged her like this, cupped her breasts and clung to her waist, hips and thighs before pooling on the floor. It was obscene. How were they in public right now?

Watch your hands, Feyre warned in his mind. We have company.

I can't help it, Rhys responded silkily. I just want to peel this thing off of you. Or maybe tear it to shreds with my teeth.

Well you'll have to wait, Feyre shot back. Believe it or not, I actually want to see this play. And besides, this dress was made by Emerie, you couldn't tear it if you tried.

Rhys bared his teeth in her mind. Would you like me to try? he asked. He slid a midnight claw over her mind. She batted him away.

I said later, she said. Now behave.

At that moment, a silver bell rang out over the theater, and Helion's voice drifted through the air with an amplifying spell.

"Welcome, dearest guests," the High Lord said. "I am so pleased you all could make it. If you would like to take your seats, the show will begin in five minutes."

Feyre bade goodbye to the guest she was talking to- Rhys just gave a curt nod, not at all caring who they were- and slid her arm around Rhys' waist as they walked off to their box. As soon as the guest had turned, Rhys squeezed a handful of her backside. Feyre swatted his chest.

"What's going on with you?" she asked. "Nothing," Rhys said, his lips against her temple. He drew the curtain to their private box. "You look incredible tonight." "Well thank you," Feyre said. "You're not bad yourself." She kissed him, and made to sit down next to Rhys, but he pulled her into his lap instead. Cupped his hands over her rear and pulled her lips back to his.

"Let's take a little walk," he said into her mouth. His hands squeezed at her waist. "Rhys, we're at a show." "He said five minutes," Rhys argued, and licked his tongue up the side of her throat. Feyre shivered. "Five is not so long," she said. Rhys grinned against her neck. "Five is plenty," he said, and then winnowed.

Feyre found herself in a darkened bedroom, door closed and curtains drawn, and Rhys pressing her down onto cool sheets. "Where are we?" she whispered. "Mmm," Rhys murmured. "I don't know, it's been so long since I've been in Helion's house. I just remember there being a bed here."

He pushed the skirts of Feyre's dress up her legs, and put his mouth right on her core, over her underwear. Feyre gasped at the suddenness of it.

"On someone else's bed?" she asked. Rhys pulled her underwear to the side, and licked her all the way up to her clit. "They'll never know," he said, and then she heard the clink of his belt buckle as Rhys resumed his attentions. A minute later, his face was back up over hers, lips wet from being between her legs.

"Ten years," he mused. "And I still just want to spend hours licking your every scrap of skin." "Five minutes," Feyre reminded him, and he grinned. "I can make you come in five minutes," he said, and kissed her at the same time as sliding straight inside her.

Feyre moaned into Rhys' mouth, and Rhys pulled back. "Hush now, darling," he whispered. "We're in someone else's house." His eyes sparkled. "I am going to fuck you hard until you come, and you are not going to make a single sound. Do you understand?"

Feyre nodded, and Rhys caught up her lips again. Started rocking into her, and then matching the movements of his tongue to his hips. Feyre's heart beat strong beneath him, and he hooked one of her legs over his elbow to get a deeper angle. Feyre huffed out a breath, but stayed silent.

"Good girl," Rhys crooned, and licked his thumb before placing it over her clit. He moved faster now, and kept up a steady and pounding pace.

"Do you know," he said in her ear, "I have been absolutely out of my mind all day, watching you." He moved his lips to the hollow under her jaw. "You, and your incredible ass in this fucking dress." Rhys began pressing kisses down her throat, open-mouthed kisses, kisses that gave way to a bite and a suck. "And all I've wanted to do for hours is get you alone." And all the while, he kept up his relentless rhythm. Feyre's breathing was coming in shallow pants now, and she had her bottom lip clenched between her teeth to keep her from crying out.

"Is that good, Feyre darling?" he asked her. She just nodded. His thumb pushed down a little more on her clit. "I love watching you like this," he told her. Driving his hips home. "On you back for me. With me deep inside you, right where I'm supposed to be. Do you know how fucking good you look?" He stopped speaking then, bit off a groan and listed to the incessant squeak and protest of the bed creaking. Feyre's mouth was moving with silent sounds. He smiled down at her.

"Are you close honey? Do you want to come for me?" Feyre nodded again. "Almost. I'm going to count down from five, and you can come when I tell you to." Feyre's eyes burned in the dark.

"Five," Rhys murmured. He leaned back a little, changing the angle and getting deeper still. "Four." His thumb moved in tight circles over her clit. "Three," he said, and now his own breaths were coming ragged. "Two." He sped up, his hips now moving erratically. "One," he ground out, close to the edge now and loving the view of Feyre writhing in tortured silence. "Now," he commanded, and Feyre exploded around him at the same time as he came hard inside her, clamping down on his own moans as Feyre's nails scratched at his back.

Rhys fell to Feyre's side and tugged her body into hers. "Good girl," he breathed again, and kissed her until they were falling asleep and somewhere far away, an opening curtain was rising.

Four hours later, Helion opened his bedroom door to find the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court in his bed. They blinked at him when he flicked the light on.

"Well," he said, voice full of merry amusement. "Is it my birthday already?"

*****

This is a little rushed because it's almost 1am but it's also the first time I've been able to post all week and I hate that. So I'm sorry if it's a bit of a mess! I miss you guys when I get too busy x

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist

MASTERLIST

UPDATE: There's now a Part 2!!! By special request.

[hanadoesstuffbadly]

Daughter of Giants

"You should move along, Giant, we don't want your sort around here." The bartender's voice was low and authoritative, the voice of a man not easily ignored, but one didn't need the ears of a bat to make out the tremors coursing through it. Everything about him was a well made manor with good foundations, but Aravis could tell it was built on sand. Give him a little shake and everything would start slipping.

Aravis smirked and tapped her fingers idly against the bar's puckered wooden surface. A part of her cursed  how ineffective her disguise had been proving recently, even after she's taken to covering her folc markings. The last thing she needed now was to have word of a nomadic folcwoman travelling the Engle Lands like a sad silk trader. Her tankard's rim just brushed her lips as she held it there and she concentrated on the fact that the man had not moved along, still standing just out of sight behind her mustard coloured hood. If he just needed a shake, why was she feeling inclined to rattle him until the very bricks of his character were dust to be scraped off of her heel. Maybe she was too tired for this today, too done with walkers and their sloppy, indelicate ineptitude. But at the same time, her ichor was roaring through her veins, violet and rushing. It made her lungs burn like magma beneath the island's crust. Her titanic heart yearned for a fight. It had been too long.

"My sort?" Silk dropped into her tone inadvertently, turning her deep, hoarse, broken voice into an almost mechanical purr. Fear rippled through the room like ribbons. It was a cool breeze in a suffocating glare of self-importance and Aravis breathed it in.

"You're a bounty-hunter!" Not the bartender, but a nasal, underdeveloped voice called from the crowd of patrons that had interrupted their own meals to gawk like a gaggle around what had been a peaceful evening drink. Aravis didn't bother seeking out the speaker (though she suspected one of the pasty, mealy shepherds seated closer to the entrance. An easy escape, she mused, smart choice.) Her brow, however, creased at his choice of words. Bounty hunters were perhaps the lowest of the low creatures grovelling on the earth's filthy surface. Turning in fellows of your kind for the reward of others? Had they no sense of honour or kinship at all. Had a folcman or woman acted in such a way, they would be plunged beneath the clouds to the endless oceans below and ripped to shreds by the wild, Bacchic merpeople of the depths. Honour, trust, loyalty; mere dramatic concepts to be learned and forgotten by those thugs like poor poetry.

"Now what would give you that idea?" Likely her stature or lack of ladylike grace. Maybe-

"The ends of your hair. They're white." The thought died before it even took shape in her mind. A chill crawled up around her shoulders, turning the thick muscle there into cold stone. She was frozen in place, barely able to open her mouth to reply through gritted teeth, her head bowed lower toward the counter and her tankard rested against her suddenly ringing forehead.

"Why," she ground out, "would that," turning slowly like a tin doll, her eyes flashed, "mark me out?" Moonlight flashed against a bronze knife behind the bar and it set the room aflame. The man- boy really- stood and quaked like a tethered kite before the entrance like it was a headwind. He had a round, dark, unfinished face; the face of a scholar or bard, not a warrior. Nevertheless, Aravis wanted nothing more than to turn it blue with bruises.

"I've heard stories," He shuddered and searched any face but hers for help "my father's a pepper merchant, he told me about you and your kind." The idea of some miserable, slimy, slithering underwalker's tongue speaking of her ‘kind’ made Aravis' fists curl. "Your hair is dark and- and blue, right?" He was slipping, but didn't run. Yet. "He used to say, when- when what was inside your head became darker, your hair literally started paling in comparison... Making the tips turn white... And- I-I thought..."

"Tom Tom, that's enough." Hissed the bartender.

Aravis was very still. Whispers are meant to be lost in the chaos. Aravis’ words were like breaths, yet each one rang in the floorboards and out of the door like the echoes of screams.

"Your father is well-learned. Darkness seeping into every crevice of the mind, turning you into a miasma veiled in flesh? What better fits that description than a callous, underhanded criminal? What could be so dark, so evil, as to turn the tips of my hair so pale?"

With one hand she tore the hood from her head. And not a breath was drawn as their pathetic faces took in the blank, dull cascades, the colour of new snow. Cold and dead. White to the roots.

She closed her eyes when the whispers started seeping into their fear, and as always, before her there stretched a great gash in the clouds on which she, still an adolescent wrapped in sunlight, stood. Beneath that crevice she saw the island of the underwalkers. But she wasn't looking at them. Instead, all that filled her vision was the great, massive warrior lying like unwanted venison beside the hulking, grotesque, monstrous corpse of a Beanstalk. And the underwalkers were dancing. At their head, leading them on there stood a creature of pale flesh and golden hair. To others he might have looked like a child, beautiful and beaming. Aravis knew what he really was. The axe was still in his hands. That smiling, glittering face was the last thing she saw before the vision cleared and Aravis opened her eyes to the bar counter. 

Shards of metal and broken wood lay before her. Her hand was bloodied by purple ichor. Still lodged within the cut were some remains of the crushed tankard. But it was her eyes that were burning with pain.

The whispers had ceased. And so had the roar in her veins. She was ice.

Standing, she swept her cloak aside to rest both hands on her hips, her feet apart. She was taller now than she had been when she entered, and now the crest of her ringed headband just skimmed the ceiling. Everybody in the room cowered below her. It felt right.

"Indeed. I am a hunter. But what I'm after is not the reward of a slippery, stupid nobleman. It is justice. And it is mine alone." the low rasp of her voice grew full and round as pride swelled within, "as a daughter of the mighty Laestrygonians."

At the name of her folc, new horror trickled into slow running red blood all around her. So many eyes darted to the door, for escape. Many more became fixed on her lips or, more specifically, on the teeth that lay behind them. Aravis didn’t need to be a mind mage to know they were wondering how much mortal flesh had been shredded upon them. That stout bartender was the first to finish quivering.

"Who do you seek, great Giantess? I will tell you all that I know, just don't hurt any of my customers, I beg of you!" Ugh. Begging. Typical underwalkers.

"I'm hunt Prince Jack of Gaul. As I have for almost ten years." Voice rising such that everyone might hear, she let fear carry her words. "He has taken something very precious from me, many things in fact, and I intend to exact justice."

“But, he’s been missing over three years! Many young princes have been.” Aravis was well aware of that. So close. She had been so close she could see the ridiculous peak of his hair, illuminated under dragon fire. But the presence of one of the more powerful fae had forced to keep her distance. But she had him cornered. It was almost over. And then he was gone.

“Haven’t you heard? They’re back, now.” Every head turned back to the scholarly boy by the entrance. “Yeah, the entire Fearless-”

But Aravis was deaf to the world.

They’re back now. He’s back now. He’s back. Again, and again, and again. The sound of clouds being split down the middle and the shining eyes of the blonde, beautiful murderer. And dancing. Aravis’ eyes were filled with axes, ichor and dancing.

Her bident spear was in her hand one moment and whistling across the room the next. The boy- Tom Tom he’d been called- was pinned between its prongs like a fish, flailing and panicked. He grasped at the twin spikes which were twice as thick as his arm. As Aravis strode over, he just resisted going limp.

With her feelings crashing and shrieking in her head, Aravis paid no attention to the fact that the ceiling had splintered around it. She didn’t notice the splinters to timber that clawed at her waist, nor the frigid night air whipping her face as she waded through the bar like mud. People the size of dolls scurried for the exit, while the one she wanted remained pinned. Until she knelt down and gripped the long handle of her weapon, pushing it closer into his throat.

“Where?” Was all she managed. Everything inside was a storm that even she herself was becoming lost in.

“I- I don’t know! I was told by a friend!”

“WHERE?!” Her bellow ricocheted off the dark sky itself like thunder and the bident spear-head pressed harder against his trachea until he gasped for air.

“STONEBURY!” Violent sobs wracked his body but Aravis did not relent, “GLASS STONEBURY! MY FRIEND HORNER IS IN GLASS STONEBURY! HE CAN TELL YOU!”

Only then, with a grunt of dark satisfaction did she pull the spear from the wall, releasing him. With the first real, tangible feeling she had felt in years melting into her veins, she shrank back down until she was practically the same stature she had been when she had arrived. The bar’s roof was gone, allowing freezing wind to howl through. She cared not.

Aravis finished a drink that had been abandoned on a table in the panic. It was revolting, crude stuff, typical for underwalkers. But a smile was curled on her face regardless.

"What will you do once you find the prince? He's a hero, and has many powerful friends!" So the bartender had stayed, she hadn’t counted on that. She graciously turned to look at him, feeling lighter than she had in almost four years.

"Simple. I will rend his arms from his sides. I will cast his broken body across the air until each and every bone is ground into dust."

"They'll see you coming, people have already run to tell others of you."

"You speak as if I’d intended this to be a slaughter. You are wrong.” Aravis’ hood fell to the floor and her hand reached into her satchel. She sighed softly when her fingers met the gentle, rippling fabric of her cloak. Her mother’s cloak. “It’s an execution.” she pulled it free, letting it grow in size until it could wrap around her completely. Her legs and torso disappeared from sight. “And I must have him know his sentence.”

Turning, she vanished behind the concealment of the cloak and into the darkness of the night. The Engle Lands were solitary, located deep in the marshes of Fairytale Island. 

It wasn’t far to Glass Stonebury. And then all that was left was to find this Horner.

Just an intro that I couldn't get out of my head since creating Aravis (her name was Astrid originally). I kinda want to write a whole fic about this but I'm not sure since it would be pretty much all my ocs... I'm imagining basically zootopia but with a Giant princess and a bounty hunter.

Also ive already started about two big projects with no third chapter soooo.....

[86-was-his-year]

Say My Name | Park Seonghwa Smut |

Warnings: Dom/sub relationship, swearing, selfcest (basically fucking yourself you'll see), oeal (female receiving), anal, male x male, voyeurism, hair pulling, chocking, use of belt as leash (?), crying (again), orgasm denial, orgasm control, Seonghwa being a dom, consensual non-con (but like not?? Idk if this falls in that category,everyone agrees but like non-verbally? Gonna put it here for the peeps who can't read things like this it's okay and of you need to talk I'm here), brief violence 

Summary: Seonghwa has to beat his dark alter but it's not in the way you'd expect.

A/N: if you're not comfortable with selfcest you don't have to read and if you don't know what it is then I suggest you look it up so you know if you want to read this. Idk it's been stuck on my head lately and I wanna share my wonderful ideas with you!!

.

Everyone had a dark alter. You could meet them anywhere, at any age, and at any time. No one knows how it happened but the elders speculate that sometime somehow our two universes collided and pushed our dark alters into our world. There was chaos at first, no one knew who was the dark and who was the good many people went mad. People became obsessed with getting the dark alters into their own universe, scientists even dedicated their lives to it.

The dark alters roamed our world until we found a way to get them back. A man found his dark alter and fought him making sure that he made the dark alter recognize that he was the fake, that he was the copy. And he disappeared the dark alter went back into his own plane and the man was free, but that was ages ago it passed into legend and most people who met their dark alters never lived to tell about it, the dark alters taking their place in our universe.

I met my dark alter when I was a child at the age of 10. My parents were shocked but they couldn't help. To get rid of my dark alter jihad to make her see that I was the real one. I had to make her see that I had a real identity and she didn't belong here. My ten year old brain could only think of one thing that could take her down. A game of rock, paper, scissors. It was a risk but at the same time I was the reigning champ in my 4th grade class.

Well, the game went by easily. Loser had to say the winners name to show that they were the real identity and she faded away like dust blown off an old book. After that I was never the same. I became the youngest female to defeat her dark alter but if I was being honest the publicity and fame didn't make it worth it. Watching myself fade away like that is something I would never forget the pain in her face as she grasped her throat was something that has haunted my dreams almost every night. I was depressed and couldn't regain the happiness I had felt before watching her die, before I met Seonghwa.

His dark hair and dark eyes lured me in and ever since I've been in love with him. We met in freshman year of high school immediately bonding over a certain teacher we hated, convinced that she was actually the dark alter. No one with such a pretty face should be so evil. We figured out that We had most of the classes together and became friends, rumors spread and people talked and it all came back to us in the form of blushed cheeks and quiet giggles in class.

We went to college together and had been dating ever since we occasionally had our fights but who didn't. We always loved each other in the end and then we met his dark alter. Seonghwa had lost his cute boyish charm and was a man, the dark hair was no more and blonde hair took it's place. I personally loved it and I think he knew because every time his roots came in he would touch them up and make sure they were blonde as well.

I was walking around campus when I saw a familiar blonde boy walking with a girl. She was someone that Seonghwa and I had always hated. She had made fun of our relationship a multitude of times and I could feel the anger well inside me as I saw him slip his arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, Y/N!" I heard Seonghwas voice and looked further up. He was still talking to her but I couldn't hear him. A hand wrapped around my shoulder and turned me around. I saw Seonghwas bright smiling face and I immediately knew what was going on.

"S-Seonghwa?" My heart dropped when I saw the worry in his face.

"What's wrong babe? Are you okay?" His hands went up to my face and looked into my eyes. I could feel them start to well up, he would have to go through what I went through. He would have to defeat his dark alter. Once you see them one cannot live while the other walks in the same plane. There was a chance that I could lose him.

"I-He is here." He looked over at the pair and they haven't moved. Still talking and giggling together.

"Who is baby?" He was rubbing the fresh tear from my cheeks.

"Y-Your alter." I instantly saw his eyes darken. He looked around the hall and immediately sad him leaning against the wall, twirling the girls hair in his finger. He looked back at me before pulling me in for a tight hug. I could hear his heart beating against his ribs. He knew that he could lose, that I could lose him and we were both scared.

"It's okay baby, go home." He rubbed the back of my hair before pulling away. He handed me his bag and escorted me towards the door.

"Seonghwa what about you?" I turned in his grasp and stared at his dark drown eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him and he home before you know it." He pecked me lips and help the back of my neck. "You go straight home, do you understand me?" The authority came out in his voice and I bit my lip.

"Yes sir." He knew it was the only way to get me to do the things he asked and I knew I couldn't deny him in this state.I gave him one more kiss and walked out the doors to my car, regretting every step I took. Knowing that may be the last time I ever see him again.

The house was quiet. I had set down my stuff long ago and I was on the couch finishing some homework. It had been 2 hours since I last saw Seonghwa and my heart raced as I thought of what is happening to him right now. He could never walk through that door or he could but it could be the wrong one. Not my loving Seonghwa but his alter, someone who I wouldn't want to be face to face with ever.

Tears filled my eyes as I shut the book I was working on. I couldn't lose him, not to someone like that. Just as I was thinking about going to the school and finding him the door latch clicked and the door opened harshly.

"Seonghwa?" His hair was disheveled and he had small amounts of blood on his grey sweater. But that wasn't the worst part about it. He went further into the house dragging his alter by the hair. His nose had traces of blood on it but that's the only thing that was wrong with him.

I watched as the scene played out in front of me. Seonghwa shut the door and slammed his alter up against it. The shock I'm the dark alters face was evident. He thought that he was going to win the fight and here he was, pressed up against the door like an animal in a steel trap.

"You thought you could beat me?" Seonghwas voice was rough and scratchy. His hand slammed on the door behind his alter and I could see the fear in the alters eyes. The way he acted in the hall was nothing like I saw now. The wave of confidence had dried out and he was in the low tide.

"I-I" the alter had nothing to say his face winced in pain as Seonghwa pulled in his blonde locks. The alter grabbed at Seonghwas wrist and shuddered.

"Are you liking this? You like me pulling on your hair? Roughing you up like you deserve?" He took his hand from the door and put it to the alters throat and that's when I lost it. I was standing up at this point rubbing my legs together to get any kind of friction at all, the scene that was taking place too much for me. I whimpered and they both seemed to remember that I was here.

"Seonghwa?" I gasped out and he turned to me. His eyes dark and his face set, his dom face. I almost immediately wanted to call to my knees but I held myself up as he walked them both over to me, his hand still in the alters hair.

"Look baby, he submitted just like you did." He leaned into the alter pulling his head up to look Seonghwa in the eye, "all he needed was a few hits and he was on his knees begging for it to stop." Seonghwas mouth was so close to his alters that I could almost feel them on my own. He was teasing the alter and it was so fucking hot. The alter opened is mouth and fluttered his eyes shut. Seonghwa brushed his lips over the alters before pulling away the later trying to follow before Seonghwa pulled back on his hair, getting a tiny hiss out of the alter.

"Sir?" I watched as he turned to me, his aura demanding submission.

"I want you to go into the room, strip, and sit on the chair. Keep your legs apart." I shuddered as he grabbed my chin gently kissing my lips before setting me on my way. "As for you, I'm going to fuck you. Hard." I heard his words as I walked to the bedroom and I found myself moaning to myself. I was in for a show.

The cold air wasn't something to be desired but I heard them wrestling around in the living room and I began to pout they were doing something in there and it sounded like fun but I stayed with my feet planted to the floor as I imagined the scene that would happen in just a few minutes. He was going to fuck himself and I couldn't be more excited.

The footsteps became louder and louder and I gasped when they entered the room. His later was in nothing, his cock spring out onto his stomach leaking precum all over. Seonghwa had his shirt and his shoes off leaving him in nothing but his black jeans. The sight made my mouth water and I couldn't help the twitch in my leg as I saw what Seonghwa had done to his alter. His heavy black belt was around the alters neck and he was using it as a leash, the poor doppelganger looked helpless as Seonghwa pulled him along. 

Seonghwa turned and looked at the man, he was shaking and I don’t think it was form the cold. His thighs and stomach tensed and relaxed in a spastic movement like he didn’t have any control over his body as Seonghwa rolled is hand around the belt, pulling the boy closer and closer to him until their naked chests were touching. The alter sighed at the contact and Seonghwa chuckled darkly. 

“What a pretty boy,” He traced his forefinger along his jaw and held his chin in between his fingers. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” Seonghwa yanked on the belt and the alter came forward before he was pushed back by his chin. 

“I-I’ll be a good boy for you.” His voice was broken the weak sound of it had Seonghwa smirking. 

“Wow, using his words. Y/N? What do you get when you behave?” He turned to me and that caused the alter to look at me as well. Two of the same face looking back at me yet one was significantly more wrecked than the other.

“A reward, Sir.” I put my hands on my thighs and dug my nails into the soft flesh there. Not touching myself was proving way harder than I thought. Seonghwa smiled at me before turning back to the alter. 

“Good girl. You get a reward.” Seonghwa tilted the boys head up once more and planted his lips gently on the alters. He let out a breathy whine and it went straight to my core, the sound coming form the alters mouth desperate and choppy. The alter placed his hand on Seonghwas bicep and he pulled away ‘tsking’ at the boy. 

“Please?” The alter leaned up again only to be stopped by Seonghwa.

“No touching, remember?” He gently took the alters hand off of his bicep and put it behind his back, the other following shortly. “Stay.” He ordered the dark and went back to his lips. He grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to get a better angle. The sound of their hard breath and the slight mashing of teeth and lips had me aroused all over again. Seonghwa was soft with his kiss yet I could feel the intensity from all the way on the other side of the room. 

Seonghwa let the belt go and trialed his hand down the alters chest, flicking his nipples to get another heavenly sound out of the other boy. He smiled into the kiss and continued downward, scraping his blunt nails onto the boys torso. The alter let out a shocked gasp before searching for Seonghwas lips again. He seemed drunk off of his kiss, wanting more even though he already had what he wanted. It wasn’t until Seonghwa touched his cock that the alter backed away. Seonghwa was quick to grab the belt and bring him back in. 

“What did I tell you to do?” Seonghwas voice was dark and I could tell that he wasn’t happy with the boy moving. I winced at his mistake, it was rookie but it was one that could easily be dismissed as inexperience. I know I did it in the beginning. 

“You told m-me to stay.” His voice was shaky and his breath was increasing by the second. 

“And you didn’t.” Seonghwas jaw was sharp and focused, he was gritting his teeth at the alter and I began to roll my hips as I watched it flex. 

“But you-”

“Are you shy because I touched your cock?” My thighs twitched at his words and as I looked over them so did the alters.

“I- You.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “Yes, sir.” He looked at the ground like he was ashamed. 

“It’s okay, pretty boy. Just relax.” He led the alter towards the bed and he sat on it, face to torso with the alter. If he bent down just three inches the boys cock would be in his mouth and my breath hitched at the thought. “Hands behind your back. Now, stay still. I’m not telling you again.” The soft encouragement in his voice was gone and he was commanding once again. He gripped his cock again and the alter whimpered, his fingers squeezing his forearms for support. 

Seonghwa smirked up at the boy and I could see the enjoyment in his eyes. The little sparkle that popped in them when someone followed his orders correctly. He was stroking his cock firmly drawing it out as the alter whimpered and cried out, the sound of his precum sliding in between Seonghwas fingers became addicting. The boys whimpers got louder and louder, my whines following his. 

“Are you going to cum?” Seonghwa stroked the boy faster, appearing to help him reach his high. 

“Yes, Sir. I’m gonna fucking cum!” His cries filling the room. Seonghwa pulled off of his cock and put his hand on his thigh.

“Hold it. Don’t cum.” The alters cock was red and engorged. It wanted to release so bad and by the way he was rolling his hips into nothing he was almost there. Seonghwa had this evil power of knowing exactly when to stop touching you if he didn’t want you to cum. He’s done it to me multiple times and I could only empathize with the alter. The pain of not being able to cum when you know you could just unload is the hardest thing. 

“Please, Sir. Please let me cum.” Seonghwa was moving his forefinger around his head pulling his finger off the watch the streams of precum connect his finger and the boys cock. The alter seemed out of breath and desperate as he pulled his hips away from Seonghwa only for Seonghwa to pull his hips back and continue his torture

“No,” Seonghwa stood up and cupped the boys jaw once again tilting his head before kissing him, his favorite distraction. “I want you to lay on the bed hands and knees. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” The dark alter hiccuped and let his hand fall to his sides. Seonghwa walked over to me and grasped my chin smiling when I looked up at him. 

“You’re being such a good girl today.” He bent down and kissed my lips tenderly. “Keep it up for me.” I nodded and he kissed me one last time before moving back to the bed. The dark alter was positioned exactly as he was told. Hand and knees with the belt dangling between his neck and the plush covers of the bed. 

I watched closely as Seonghwa got what he needed form the bed side drawer. Lube and condoms. He was possibly the most responsible dom I’ve ever met and I smiled as he put them on the bed neatly before stripping completely. The control this man had amazed me sometimes, his cock was hard and at attention but it wasn’t red and touch starved like the alters was. I guess that was one thing that separated them. 

“You have to relax for me baby boy.” Seonghwa was behind the boy, lube in one hand while the other rubbed up and down his back. The boy had his head down and was breathing shakily. He nodded his head and let his back arch instead on holding up like he was. His head came up and we made eye contact. The blush on his cheeks was amazing and I watching his eyes roll back as Seonghwa inserted the first finger. 

“F-Fuck.” It was like the alters voice went up 10 whole octaves, nothing compared to Seonghwas dark tone that he was using throughout the night. 

“You’re being such a good boy for me. Just relax let yourself feel it.” He was rubbing up and down the alters back, encouraging him to do the best he could while rewarding him for his efforts. Seonghwa had picked up a steady pace and the boy didn’t care what he looked like anymore. He was moaning and fucking himself back on Seonghwas fingers, his cock twitching and his voice raising every time Seonghwas hit that special spot inside of him.

“Can I have your cock, please?” The alters voice was sharp and cut off by moans but he made his sentence out. His eyes were permanently shut for the time being and I watched as pleasure rolled off of his face every time Seonghwa pulled out and pushed back in. 

“You want my cock? You think you can handle it?” He was teasing the alter but he was also stalling. He wanted to make sure he was stretched out even before he tried to put his cock anywhere near his ass. The alter was getting impatient and Seonghwa would let that happen as long as it didn’t go to his head. 

“Yes, sir I want your cock. Please.” The alter whimpered as Seonghwa pulled his fingers out. The alter was a  panting mess, his eyes were glossed over and I wanted nothing more that to come over a tell him how good he was doing. Seonghwa was gently rubbing the swell of his ass and I guess that was acknowledgement enough, I watched as Seonghwa rolled a condom on his eyebrows drawing in the middle of his forehead with pleasure. 

“Are you ready?” Seonghwa was asking a serious question but it had a teasing lift to his voice to keep the mood up. The alters back was arching and shaking at the same time. He was trying to run away from the feeling but he was also trying to go towards it, his thighs trying to push together.

Seonghwa was the master of going slow, letting whoever he was fucking to adjust to him however long they wanted. It was no different when he was fucking his dark alter he let him take some deep breaths before putting the head of his cock against the alters puckering hole, pushing in when he felt the alter was ready. 

“Fuck!” The alter let out a loud yell and threw his head up. It was hard to tell whether it was from pleasure of from pain but Seonghwa stopped and rubbed the boys back encouraging him to relax once more and let Seonghwa continue. It was so hard to see but I could tell that Seonghwa bottom out when he bit his lip. He doesn’t like to let out moans when he’s in charge showing that the person didn’t make him weak even if they did. The alter shuddered and let out the most beautiful sounds. I couldn’t help but close my legs and hope that it would give me some type of friction.

“Baby, what did I tell you to do?” Seonghwas voice wasn’t strained or held back and I whimpered at the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“To keep my legs open.” I complied and opened them back up, putting them on the arms of the chair this time. 

“So good for me.” He looked down to the area that his dick and the alters ass met and pulled back just a bit before slowly pushing back in. The alters arms began to shake and he just gave up his face falling into the mattress as Seonghwa continued his shallow thrusts. His whines and whimpers were concealed by the thick cover on the mattress and I guess Seonghwa didn’t like that because he bent down and grabbed the alter by he hair, pushing his head up and his back automatically went into a smooth arch. 

“Fuck, I can’t take it. Please I want to cum.” His voice was high and whiny, the sound of him crying out echoing around the room. 

“Oh baby are you crying?” Seonghwa pulled back again and then pushed forward, moving the alters whole body as the sound of skin slapping on skin continuing to echo around the room. 

“Yes, I need to cum please fuck me.” His words were coming out short and jumbled. 

"You shouldn't be crying we barely begun." The alters eyes rolled back into his head and his cock began to leak profusely.

"Please, please, please!" His begging was only getting him so far, Seonghwa was a sucker for begging and I could tell it was really getting to him. His speed picked up and the alters breath began to hitch in his throat.

"You want to cum?" Seonghwa slowed down again and was lightly rolling his hips into the alter.

"Yes, please Sir! I want to cum so bad." The alter looked up at me almost begging me to let him cum and I gave him him a sad smile.

"You gotta do one thing for me," Senghwa pushed in quickly and the alters jaw fell open, "Say my name." The alter gasped and went to look back at Seonghwa only to be stopped by the hand in his hair.

The alter swallowed and nodded and that was Seonghwas invitation to start pounding into the boy, his hips meeting the alters ass with such force. Seonghwa pulled him up by his hair and put one hand around his throat while the other went straight to his cock, stoking it smoothly.

"You can cum, baby. You did so fucking good for me." Seonghwa bit the alters shoulder and the alter finally released.

"Seonghwa!" His voice was broken but he said his name. Seonghwa pulled out and peeled off the condom before throwing it in the trash bin by our bed. The alter was laying scrunched up in the bed as he began fading away. His eyebrows went together and he sighed before completely disappearing.

"Fuck," Seonghwa ran his hand through his hair before looking up to me. "You're glistening, sweetheart." I looked up at his smirking face and blushed. I felt so vulnerable as my juices flowed put of me and onto the chair.

"It hurts." I put on my best whine for him and he shook his head while getting up and and walking over to me.

"It does, doesn't it?" I nodded and he grabbed my chin, images flashed in my head of Seonghwa grabbing his alter by the chin and I whimpered. "Would you like your reward?"

"Yes please, Sir." He chuckled and let me stand up, the feeling of my thighs touching has my head spinning. It was giving me the friction I wanted and I indulged in the feeling. The room was hot and both Seonghwa and me had a thin layer of sweat on our bodies. I mean Seonghwas was a little more understandable because he just fucked someone into oblivion, literally. As we laid on the bed I thought more and more about the dark alter. The way his face scrunched and he just disappeared. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Seonghwas head was already in between my thighs and he placed light kisses on my calves and thighs. 

“Do you think he’s dead?” I took a deep breath as Seonghwa nipped at the soft skin of my thigh. He nuzzled his head into my leg and looked up at me. 

“I think he’s okay. I think he’s back where he belongs now.” His dominate persona was gone and it was the loving Seonghwa. He didn’t let his loving side come out when we were in the bedroom but I think he could tell I was struggling  with the alter and he just wanted to be himself.

“How do you know that for sure?” I asked while grabbing the sheets under my fingers. 

“I can feel it. He’s okay, I think they were just here by mistake. A chance meeting." He kissed up my thighs again and my breath hitched.

"Please make me cum." The confirmation that the alter was seemingly okay helped me relax and I gripped the sheets below me. I had been waiting for him to do something the whole night and I was aching at this point.

"You don't have to hold it today baby. I give your permission to cum." That meant I was a really good girl today and he was impressed. Getting permission to cum beforehand was the biggest acknowledgement of my good behavior and was indulging in the non verbal praise.

Seonghwa went right for it, giving my clit small kitten licks before finally just going at it. The sounds were the dirtiest things ice ever heard, Seonghwa moaning against my clit as his tongue smeared my juices everywhere. It could be something out of a porno and I bucked my hips into his mouth. He gave my clit a light nip and it had my eyes rolling backwards, it was a warning for me to calm down and stay still but it felt so damn good. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and pushed them open more while holding them down, giving him better access to his work. After all this time watching him fuck his alter I could burst, the vibrations and the sucking of my clit al.kst pulling me off the edge.

"Please please please. I'm so fucking close. I need to cum please, sir." I knew I had his permission but I couldn't help but ask. It was so ingrained in my brain that, 9 times out of 10 I wouldn't cum without it.

"Be a good girl and cum for me. You can do it." He stopped briefly to encourage before going back a nipping my clit before sucking on it and that's what pushed me forward. It needed that one bit of praise, that one bit of encouragement and I could do it.

My vision went white and I squeezed the sheets with all the strength I had left. After an hour of sitting with no friction the orgasm tore me apart. I could feel myself screaming and I could feel my legs shake around his head. As he continued to push me through my orgasm, pulling every ounce of pleasure from me until I was flinching and bucking my hips from the sensitivity.

"You're such a good girl." He kissed up my body until he found me lips, slowly molding then together until I could taste myself in his lips. I moaned and my legs closed around his hips, the throbbing of my clit making it hard to focus.

"I'm sleepy." The orgasm had drained everything in me and I just wanted to sleep. He chuckled and got off of the bed letting the cold air assault my most sensitive areas. He came back from the bathroom with a pair of boxers on, and washcloth, and an extra t-shirt. He wiped me up gently even though I closed my legs around his hand a couple of times, and put me in his t shirt before covering us up.

"Good night, baby. I love you." He whispered into my ear as he pulled me closer to him, my head on his chest.

"I love you too."

It was a good night but the thought of the alter swam around into my mind, clouding my dreams with the thought of him and Seonghwa.

[bakugaykatsukii]

I Talk About Bakugou Because I'm Bored

Bakugou. He's best boy. My son.

No, actually, I'mma explain in as few words as possible why I absolutely adore his character.

Oops this got long.

Okay, so it's the first chapter/episode (I'll go off the anime because it's practically identical and more widespread) and it opens with Deku narrating. This is to establish an immediate connection between the audience and the main protagonist; it conveys how important Deku is. Plenty of shows do this so it's not really a big deal, just common practise. HOWEVER, the second character we hear speak is Bakugou, who is insulting Deku.

This is framed in a way that's supposed to make us dislike him, and continues all throughout the first episode. He's presented as a four year old trying to beat up our main character, and then his next scene is being ten years older and Still Trying To Beat Up Our Main Character. This makes him seem rotten to the core, as his character hasn't changed whatsoever in that time, and as an audience we know very little information about him.

On top of that, within this first episode he is deliberately made to have no redeeming qualities, nothing that could make him sympathetic in any way. The Sludge Villain fiasco isn't until ep2, and in this one he literally tells Deku to kill himself, reaching peak middle school bully. He destroys something the Main Protagonist clearly treasures and is privelaged in every conceivable way, even his (later obviously intense) desire to be a hero is simplified to monetary gain, with "I'll be even richer than All Might himself!!!" (or something to that effect). Later on I'd explain such a line to be a result of young Baku trying to quantify his future success, something he never mentions again after the Sludge Villain.

In these first twenty minutes of the anime, he's been absolutely dragged through the mud. Not only is he this arrogant, selfish, mean bully, he's also the sort of bully we can all relate to having, making him even more dislikable! It's so easy for an audience to write him off as irredeemable almost immediately.

But then comes ep2. Seasoned anime watchers likely brush over some small details, but the fact that the Sludge Villain attack happens when Bakugou is 14? Wow. At this point no one likes him, and to many people seeing this happen could come across as a sort of karmic punishment, deserving and therefore less sympathetic. And so Horikoshi succeeds in continuing to make him dislikable but also adding depth to this character who so clearly believed he was invincible.

However, any such depth is pretty much ignored by the audience. I've watched many reactions, and, at this point, due to Bakugou's sub par personality, most people don't care about what happened upon first viewing. To be fair, it's treated as background until Deku steps in and proves himself a hero, at which point he's promised a quirk and That's all anyone can think about.

(also there's some symbolism in this ep because Bakugou and Deku were both attacked by the Sludge Villain and saved by All Might, showing they are actually equals in character and have a lot in common.)

Anyway, so for the first few episodes no one gives two shits about Bakugou because he's meant to be dislikable. He's set up to be as bad as possible without needing to be arrested/never being redeemable. Yet, he's also not clearly set up to be redeemed whatsoever. Let me explain:

Quick break from bnha to head over to atla, Zuko is the perfect redemption arc. And some of that can be attributed to his presentation in the first few episodes: where he's portrayed as antagonistic but still honourable, and has a tragic past. He's the sort of character you know isn't actually bad at heart. But Bakugou hasn't got any tragic back story to speak of, and certainly isn't honourable, so we don't expect a redemption.

That's so interesting to me, because it basically means his character could go in any direction but most shounen fans expect him to be the typical rival. He's mean now and will be mean later, nbd. Will probably betray Deku in order to gain more power. That sort of stuff.

But, as the first season progresses, we're shown that Bakugou (on top of all of his anger issues and cruelty) is also so incredibly determined, to the point where it's harmful. A lot of people, even in season three, expect him to accept the LoV's offer, but as early as ep7 he's shown to be dedicated to being the best on his own. He utterly fails at pretending to be a villain, and doesn't manage to work with his "villain" teammate. When the USJ attack rolls around, he fights alongside Deku.

I feel like I've just word babbled for a while so here's a picture:

Isn't that adorable? Anyway, I continue.

Okay, recap: Bakugou is presented initially as bad and in no way sympathetic, but throughout season one some of his good qualities do get highlighted.

The Sports Festival is probably when I was most on edge about who my favourite character was. Todoroki vs Deku vs Bakugou was a whole internal debate. We all know who eventually won though. Point is, this is the first time Bakugou is supposed to seem likeable.

Like, yes, he helped out at the USJ, but he was still reckless and angry about it. In this arc his flaws stop seeming so antagonistic (even though he's now more at odds with 1-A than he's ever been) and are framed humorously; if you think about it, the only times you're not rooting for Bakugou in this whole arc is when you're laughing at his antics. He stops seeming like a massive unforgivable bully and becomes a secondary threat behind Todoroki, even though he ultimately wins the Festival.

One of the first things he does in the season is tell people messing with their class go away, albeit bluntly, and is then complimented for it by Kirishima, who is the nicest guy in the class! No longer are we supposed to necessarily dislike him, as he's being developed after all of season 1. Him saying "I'm gonna win" as his speach is expected by the audience and laughed at- absolutely nobody watching was scared he'd hurt Deku in some terrible way due to it.

The cavalry battle demonstrates that he can work in a team after some adjustment time, and he gets his own antagonist (Monoma) who we all root against! This makes us closer to his character, as in a way we have a common enemy.

Then obviously the single battles are super interesting, his one against Uraraka especially turning people to his side. Since Aizawa, who as an audience we trust after his actions at the USJ, backs up Bakugou's actions, we accept them as the right thing to have done. Especially since Bakugou later calls Uraraka "not fragile", demonstrating that he can respect people and actually isn't as discriminatory as his earlier actions against Deku might lead one to believe. Everything about this fight is pure gold.

The rest of his fights are also very interesting, so let me go off on a little tangent. He's the only person to 1) be uninjured by the end of the festival (he did win tho so...) and 2) he's the only person to win all of his fights by forcing his opponent into submission. He knocks out Uraraka and Kirishima, goes to knock out Tokoyami but has him give up instead and then knocks out Todoroki! His fights are so much more violent than the others, who are primarily trying to win by pushing their opponent out of the ring or by immobilising them, which could make him come across as more aggressive (which he is). But it actually works for his character considering the way he demonstrates respect is by giving his all, therefore in order to show he cares about these fights he has to go for absolutely decimating the person against him.

Also, interesting side note to all that, out of our main three festival contenders, Bakugou is the only one who actually needs to use the festival for its intended purpose: impressing scouts. Todoroki, as the son of Endeavour, is already known throughout the hero community as a promising young talent, and could even get the No2 hero to coach him if he so wished. Deku even says himself that he doesn't necessarily need to get scouted when All Might is already teaching him. Out of the three Bakugou has the most incentive to actually show off here, no guilt/baggage required.

Anyway blah Stain arc blah. Bakugou picks Jeanist to intern with, which many might think makes him shallow. Their quirks are in no way similar and their images are almost diametrically opposing, and Bakugou only chose him because he's such a highly ranked hero. However, I believe the creators crafted this pairing in order to convey how good of a future hero Bakugou promises to be. BJ, in these episodes, is all talk. He's such a superficial hero that, in order to rectify Bakugou's foul personality, he gives him a haircut. He demonstrates the arrogant nature that Stain hates so much. Meanwhile, Bakugou ignores him and is still arrogant in his own way, obviously, but not for anything other than his own pride. He, when you break it down, spends all of his time working towards a genuinely good goal, just to prove to himself that he's worthy- no desire for fans or fame in there, he wants success but isn't actually looking for any of the perks that come with it. This, imo, makes him better than BJ. Also, Bakugou never actually says he is working with BJ due to his rank and could be doing it because their quirks botha require so much time, practice and effort.

Okay, so, now for the final exams. This is where I decided he was my favourite. He works with Deku etc and proves to the audience that he can work with him and won't necessarily become a villain, plus All Might lets loose a little and proves he too can be violent and mean.

What I really love is about ep24 s2 is actually the bit that makes a lot of people chuckle: where Bakugou bites AM's hand. This kid has been giving his absolute all, putting every ounce of strength into beating his idol, because, lbh, his self worth depends on his success here, until he literally cannot raise his arms to punch anymore. And yet, he still refuses to go down, despite every odd against him. Something about that tenacity is just so incredible to me.

It's almost 1am, let's have another break, shall we?

Idk I thought it was funny when it came onto my dash.

Btw, it's now I wish I knew how to hide most of a post lololol.

Season three is just Baku's season, ngl. Like,,, so many of his Stans got their start here, and it's not hard to tell why. A big reason why Bakugou felt irredeemable was because he had no reason to be so mean, but the narrative makes up for that by then putting him through so many bad experiences.

There's been a million metas on why he's so perfect in this season, and this is already abhorrently long, but ah well.

Okay so he's captured by the League through no fault of his own. As the audience when we find out Bakugou is missing we immediately think he's done the dumb thing and gone off on his own, but it's quickly revealed that he's already been kidnapped. Tokoyami is also taken, cementing that the LoV are looking for kids with some villainous feature, but also showing that their perception of what makes a child villainous is skewed, since we know Tokoyami is good.

At the hideout Baku is entirely restrained and silent, so clearly against his will. If we remember every other time he's been restrained (so goddamn many) we'll think back to the Sludge Villain, finding out Deku had a quirk, after his *win* against Todoroki and his internship with BJ. In this way, it's obvious to tell that this is all a Bad experience for him, as those were all very negative times in his life. There's no way he'll join them.

None of the pros even consider it a possibility. Aizawa defends him against the press (and, once again, we like Aizawa! So we trust him) and none of his classmates think he could be evil, they're all primarily concerned for his safety. Even BJ, who insinuated that Baku could easily become a villain, doesn't appear to believe he'll turn down that path.

Also Baku is pretty cool when he fights of the villain like I'm ngl.

And then, when he sees All Might? And his face screws up? With his lip trembling? It's undercut with a joke but he's so obviously just a scared/relieved kid in that moment and it's gut wrenching to remember that.

It's really getting late and I'm at 11% here so speed round through the provisional licence exam.

He can tell Shindou is two faced

Even though he's blunt he's still got the instincts and smarts of a hero

The class looks up to him

Aizawa has a lot of favouritism for this child, y'all, how did I not notice this?

His failure here is intrinsic to his character growth as it means he hits absolute rock bottom and we can move onto:

Deku Vs Kacchan 2

Where to even start. The guilt and pain he experiences has made me tear up several times just from thinking about them, and that GODDAMN VOICE CRACK AS HE YELLS nope it hurts too bad.

It's sort of the culmination of every emotional issue Bakugou has exhibited throughout the series. He can't find self worth without constant praise and pressures himself to be unimaginably perfect, to a self destructive point. He has no support system in place to help him with these issues. His anger stops being repetitive/funny/annoying and is finally, clearly shown to be more damaging to himself than to anyone else, as he feels the only way he can deal with his stress and hurt is by lashing out at those who try to help him.

In this fight we also learn why Deku, even though he's Baku's victim, still looks up to him so much. And the whole dynamic is so perfect I might cry rn.

I am annoyed, though, that further than that Baku's mental health has been pretty much entirely ignored for 200 manga chapters. Probably my only complaint about him.

.

.

.

At an entirely selfish level, I can relate to Bakugou. Obviously I'm not a teenage boy with explosion powers who bullies people in order to feel any self worth, but the high standards for himself? The pain at any failures? Being told through childhood how great you are only for it to be torn away in your teens? That's all so painfully relatable to me, and so I feel an even deeper connection with his character.

One last picture to finish off:

[itoshit]

Speechless, I didn't add anything, half listening to what Senju was saying. She gave me a place and a time to meet. It was in less than thirty minutes, so I'd to leave now.

Standing up and picking up my phone, I didn't even notify Haruchiyo of my whereabouts, as if I was in a daze. And I was, probably.

Hopping in the driver seat, I quickly started the engine, my leg bouncing with anticipation. The drive seemed to pass fast enough, or maybe I drove a bit too rapidly. The journey was a big blur.

Finally arriving, two minutes early, I received a text from Senju, telling me that they were here.

Head resting on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white with the pressure I put on them, I breathed deeply, in and out. Like Shin taught me when I was a kid and my panic attacks were appearing. Eyes closed, I focused on me, my heart threatening to stop beating. Opening the door, I looked around for a while, only to spot Senju from afar, sitting at a coffee table, facing a guy, back turned to me.

Black hair.

Takemitchi.

Walking to them, I kept my gaze high, trying to imagine how the discussion would go.

Jiro! It has been so long since the last time we saw each other. Jumping on me, Senju hugged me tightly. Patting her back, I lowered my eyes, meeting Takemitchi's ones.

You haven't changed a bit, Takemitchi.

Mi-Mikey!! Tears running down profusely on his cheeks, I couldn't help snorting.

Once a crybaby, always a crybaby right?

Sitting next to Senju, face to face with him, I stayed silent.

How are you...?

Hm. Hard question, not good, not bad. Just vibin'.

I've heard you tried to kill yourself?

Eh?? How do you... Nevermind, I've learnt that your ways were almost like stalking. Very borderline.

Shrugging, Senju simply smiled at me after.

So. Why the fuck am I doing here ?

Listen Mikey. I know... I know what happened between you and the guys back then. You- I know that since Emma-

Don't mention her name. Don't mention them too. If it's about recalling our cute moments back to Toman's era, I don't have your time. And delete my number, Senju.

Standing up almost making my chair fall on the ground, I was about to leave, but Senju gripped my wrist tightly, forcing me to sit down.

I'm gonna talk now Takemichi alright? Jiro. He's one of the people I was in contact with during all this time. Believe it or not, but some people want to see you get better and find happiness. You've become uncontrollable, and Bonten isn't helping you. Your executives are the worst, and I've one in mind in particular.

Enlighten me then?

Sanzu Haruchiyo. You should keep your distance with this man, trust me.

Your brother is part of my organization.

Takeomi isn't better. I've already told you that. Our goal isn't to worsen your life, but to improve it. You need to get away from all those toxic people.

Scoffing at her bold words, I sighted, before answering.

What d'you really want ?

Save you. Bring you back to us. Draken, Chifuyu, Hakkai and-

I despise them. And you too, Takemitchi. Don't make me laugh, save me? But I'm the one who chose this lifestyle. How would you react if I shot you in the leg now hm? Would you still want to save me ?

... yes. Mikey, as you did years ago with Toman, dismantle Bonten. I'm getting married soon, you're invited. I want you to come, everyone wants you to come.

Good for you, but I'll have to decline the invitation. Checking the time, I realised that I was almost an hour late to pick up Venus.

I need to go. Don't-

They're not good for you, Jiro. They're rotten to the core. I can't tell you yet, but you need to believe us. All the evidence suggests that some of them, if not all of them, are with you only to manipulate you.

My head was ready to burn with all the information. I couldn't possibly listen to her, but Senju saved me on multiple occasions during these past months, and seemed to know things that I didn't. Sighting once again, I turned to Takemitchi.

What about you?

I fully support Senju. And I'm not going to let you go this time, Mikey.

Pff. I really need to go but-

Could you give us a ride though? Someone brought us here.

Rolling my eyes at their demand, I played with my key before nodding.

I need to pick Venus up so you'll have to wait a bit.

Venus?

His whore.

Senju.

Sorry, didn't mean it.

When we reached my car, Senju sat in the passenger seat, next to me, while Takemitchi went behind her.

Driving a while, the two were fucking exhausting talking loudly, we finally arrived at Vee's building, and she was still waiting in front of it. Guilt was spreading through my body as I honked at her, and she looked mad.

I've waited for one hour. Do you-

Heya Venus! You look good.

Biting my lip, I turned to Vee.

Yeah so, I got a mishap.

-Mikey

A big one. I agree with a false smile, staring right at a beaming Senju whose ass is currently occupying the passenger seat—my seat. I’m rooted in my spot for a few seconds, not making any move to get inside the car, only staring at her. Senju’s not stupid; she knows exactly what she’s doing. So when her face slacks in some sense of pseudo-enlightenment, I don’t buy it for a second.

Oh— did you want to sit here, Vee? she asks, body shifting as she reaches for the seatbelt.

No, stay there, I instruct, catching Mikey’s stare right when I say it. His eyebrows furrow at my words. You were there first, after all.

I crawl into the backseat with that, but not without a noticeable and tense slam of the door. Senju always seemed to come around the second Mikey and I were warming up to each other. It’s like the bitch had a sixth sense for when he was on thin ice with me. Rolling my eyes, I throw my bag beside without looking, and I’m immediately shocked by the grunt that sounds shortly after. The source of the sound is a dark haired man with his eyes shut in obvious pain… and my bag is the one responsible for it, lodged between his legs and telling by his twitching hands, directly on his crotch.

I’m so sorry! I apologize profusely. I didn’t even see him. Need me to run back inside and get some ice?

It’s fine, he insists through shaky laughs, waving away every apology I give. ‘m fine, promise! My name’s Takemichi Hanagaki.

Venus, I reply, offering a hand to shake. Sorry again, I don’t usually try to castrate men I just meet. Are you a friend of Senju’s?

And Mikey, he adds and I’m surprised. He doesn’t look like a guy Mikey would touch with a ten foot pole. Unless he needed a spy or something, then this harmless, innocent looking man would be perfect.

Really?

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. We haven’t been in contact in a while, but yeah.

I hum at that, totally understanding. Mikey definitely wasn’t the type to rekindle lost relationships, even if he really wanted to. You’d have to come find him. The little shit’s lucky people still scare enough about him to look.

How did you and Mikey meet?

Senju answers for me. They fucked, then Mikey thought she was a mole then kidnapped her, then they forgave each other, and then she got kidnapped by the yakuza, so Mikey had to rescue her. How’s your thigh anyway, Venus?

Why the fuck would she— breathe, Venus. Great. I beam at her, face falling when I meet Mikey’s eye again.

The yakuza? Takemichi’s eyes are wide, scared.

Long story, I dismiss. The last fucking thing I wanted to do was go down memory lane of a fucked up time with Mikey, a stranger and Senju. While I couldn’t quite put my finger on what exactly Senju felt for me, I knew how I felt about her, and with the way I felt about her, we couldn’t stay in the same vicinity long. I tap Mikey’s shoulder from the backseat.

Can you take me to my car? It’s still at the bar where I left it. You guys should get back to what you were doing.

Vee—

That’s a great idea, Jiro. We still were catching up, after all.

Jiro… crescents indent themselves in my palms as I clench my fists, the only thing preventing me from slamming her head into the dashboard.

See, Mikey? Senju thinks it’s a great idea.