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terrania · 1 year

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ONE SOUL BETWEEN US

A STORY ABOUT TRAUMA, QUEERNESS, AND EVERYTHING

WRITING SAMPLE:

Andrea first felt cold, half-smooth wood beneath her, in a curved set of planks. A low soft symphony of crickets stirred her, before she was jolted up the rest of the way by the deafening siren of a passing helicopter. Seeing the scene around her, she couldn’t help but find a slow chuckle escape her lips- waking up on a bench in the middle of the night, yet again.

5895 WORDS LONG

ABSURDLY FAST-PACED

CW: CHARACTER DEATH ALLUDED TO, EMOTIONALLY INTENSE SCENES

PLEASE CONSIDER READING

ONE SOUL BETWEEN US

A STORY BY JOAN

It felt like a thousand years ago, but it felt like just yesterday, too- doesn’t it always? Like that maxim- “changing the course of your life forever.” Everything she did from that point was because of it, in some way or another. In every action, she could still feel that pain, the echoes of the horror from that day, the guilt and anger in tandem.

It always shocks a community when that happens, but of course it wasn’t in a positive way. Not in that Town, after all- not in the town that, itself, killed him. People mourned for maybe a week, and by the time a month passed, nobody had even really changed from it- maybe they acted a bit more vindictive, or a bit kinder to her and the other couple people who knew him, but it never really added up- and soon enough, she was able to feel that same overbearing density in the Town’s air he did again, and she knew she couldn’t stay.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened if they didn’t find his body in those woods, or if the guy he met when he got into the City didn’t rat him out, or he didn’t slowly starve and become delirious when he came back. Maybe all of it would’ve happened anyway, and they’d be in the city with him now. What was certain was that she had no option but to escape when talk of him died down, and talk of her queerness returned in kind, when they started harassing her girlfriend again, when they started asking her to just “move on,” as if her life would ever be the same. Well, now it really wouldn’t. They’d do it right this time.

~~~

There it was, 1330 Edmund Blvd, a massive apartment building, dingy but with bright light shining through its windows. Emma texted her that address when Andrea was finally done crying behind that Waffle house after completely blowing up during her job interview, ending just shy of getting the cops called on her. While she was sad she couldn’t finish what she wanted to say, she could still be glad that she didn’t have to talk with the pigs- they’d identify her immediately, sending her and Emma back to the Town they were raised in.

PART ONE

When she stopped sobbing, she saw that the golden hour light had turned red-orange, and the lot around her was empty, the heat from the pavement sticking only to her worn shoes. There was still heat from the road in her, heat that stayed in her chest and throat, all the way here. Now, the sky had made its way to the silver hour with only a trace of the afternoon at its edges, and as Andrea glanced at it, she realized that, for once, there were no stars within that sky, where they once were in the Town. The people rushed along the sidewalk around her, but she knew nothing of any of them. She knew nearly nothing of this City, even still.

1330 EDMND BLVD

As Andrea approached the building, she noticed Emma immediately, directly in front of the glass door, leaning next to the buzzer. In front of her shirt- still dirty from that fall on the road to the city- she had a black, worn fabric jacket, with a university label on it- one that Andrea didn’t recognize at all. The conviction on her face was as clear as the fear, but as she noticed Andrea, she immediately shone with relief.

Confused about the situation but happy to see her, Andrea simply asked “Emma?”

“Andrea! God, I was getting so worried.” Emma certainly seemed to be, but if she was, why did she leave Andrea in the lot in the first place?

“You know you don’t gotta worry about me, Emms.” Andrea attempted to say this with enthusiasm. “That said, are you okay? The hell’s up with these apartments?”

“...Right,” said Emma, adding a light, anxious chuckle. “Look, we... we should talk.”

“Yeah, looks like we oughta.” “Look, Andy. I know you want this to just be... us. I know we’re in this together. I know we’re better than where we’re from, and as good as where we’re going. I know we have to do it right.”

“...But?”

“But it’s killing you! I, I mean look at you, you haven’t eaten in two days, your shirt’s ripped through... you just spent two hours breaking down behind a waffle house?? Five days ago, you- you were promising to protect me! You were saving me from that Town, the way we always had to! Where the hell’s that Andy??

Andrea’s fists clenched. The hell did Emma think that the Andy protecting her was when she was working her ass off to get food and a job? “I am protecting you! That’s why you’ve been eating my last meals! That’s why I’m getting this job! I’m doing all of this for you!”

Somehow, Emma looked even more unhappy. Her eyes squinted and peered down, and she gripped the side of her sweatpants. “You’d... You’d die for me, wouldn’t you?” It didn’t come out as a genuine question, but more as a realization on her own part- and in a low, quiet tone of voice, yet still like there was disdain worthy for such a practice. “You’d die for me,” a grand accusation in an inexplicable sense, a declaration of guilt in an angle Andrea couldn’t even understand. In spite of it all, she still answered with her heart. “Yes. Yes, Emma, yes I would.”

“Of course you would. You’re so, so focused on creating this world for me, and forcing the rest of the world out. You keep refusing to stop- you’re letting yourself die, right now, just to make it a margin better for me. You’re trying to be a goddamn martyr!”

“Emma. The hell is wrong with that??”

Emma’s face was red now. “What’s it going to take for you to realize that my “ideal world” you’re dying for needs you in it???” It ended as a shout, piercing through Andrea’s forehead, dissipating in the saliva building in the back of her throat, settling in her stomach. She doesn’t cry. She wasn’t about to start.

Silence passed between the two of them. The sound of those crowds going by and by and by. A plane landing in the distance. The screech of a car horn.

Finally, Andrea found the words within her. “Emma,” she said- in a deep, gravelly voice so she didn’t start sobbing- “why are you in front of this building?”

“This can’t work!”

Emma pushed it through a choked sob, and hunched a little on the step. “We can’t do this alone. You can’t do this alone. So I got some help.”

That’s when it clicked for Andrea. The golden light coming from the doorway. The black jacket. That sense of conviction Emma came into this with. She did it, what they’d promised each other they’d never do, above all else. Here she was, in front of the house of a stranger she decided to trust, in the city, away from her. She’d chosen to stay here.

“Emma. Emma. Emma.” A look of guilt passed through Emma’s face. She knew exactly what this meant to Andrea.

“Emma. You know what happened to Spencer.” “Yes. Yes, I know what happened to Spencer.

“We saw him die, Emma. We saw him die. And now you wanna die the same way.” it was as cold as Andrea could muster, but the exact same way she was to everyone but Emma. “Andrea. In, in those days that Spencer was trying to get out again, to get back here, to where we are... you know how focused he was on escaping?” Andrea stayed silent.

“I saw him stop eating. I saw him do nothing- think of nothing- but getting out. I saw him care about nobody but us- not even himself.” Andrea’s heart beat faster. The light behind Emma was blinding. “Then, I saw him die.”

There was nothing Andrea could say, now, nothing left but to wait for what Emma was about to say. Of course, she knew exactly what was next. Emma would hold her hope close to her chest, take one more shaky step silhouetted by the light, and ask...

“No,” Andrea blurted out.

Tears finally burst out of Emma’s eyes. “Andrea, please!”

There was nothing else Andrea could think to say. There was nothing more important in the world than saying it. “I’m not going to go with you. I’m not going inside that house, and I’m not going to give up on making a name for ourselves.” Her face reddened. “And no, I’m not a martyr because I’m doing it all for you. No, I’m not starving, and no, I’m not fucking destroying myself!”

Andrea’s gaze was blurry as the last shouts left her. Her head pounded against her eyes, the bursts of pain finding their way out of her, any way they could. The crowds outside were so, so loud. Emma, though, couldn’t say a word.

“You’ll get that soon. You’ll come back for me, and you’ll see how well I’m doing, and you’ll understand. Text me when that happens, and until then, don’t fucking talk to me.”

She turned around. She didn’t glance up to see Emma’s reaction. She didn’t let herself look back at that apartment building. She just kept going where her legs took her, not knowing where she’d end up. She had to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but with her.

PART ONE COMPLETE

Andrea shut the door of Emma’s room, immediately jumping and falling, full force, on her bed. She rolled over and let out a loud, excited wheeze, filling the room with pure electrical joy.

Emma giggled, which she knew to be an immensely comforting sound in Andrea’s ears, that got her heartbeat to pick up once again. “Oh my- hehe- GOD, what’s up with you?”

Andrea slid up on the bed to rest her back on the bed frame, trying to maintain a Coolguy pose despite her obvious earnestness. A fiery blush lit up her face- she was high enough on life to overdose. “Dude, I’m just realizing that the last thing my brother will ever hear from me is telling him to fuck off!”

Emma hopped right onto the bed as well, stretching out in the sunset’s fading sunbeams. “He’d better, after outing you to your parents!” She did a sort of scamper over to where Andrea was half-sitting, cozying up against her side and burying her face in her chest. This was the woman who’d protect her from the town. This was the woman who’d bring her to the city... Holy shit, tomorrow. This was their last day in this town!

“God, this still feels unreal.”

“Hmm?” Andrea glanced down from the window she was peering through. Despite the mundanity of her response, she looked at Emma with such warm reverence, with such hope...

“Like, this being our last day in this town. These people...” Her eyes widened. “they have no clue!”

Andrea let out a burst of laughter, sliding down a bit on the bed and turning on her side to Emma. Her expression, though, became a bit more anxious for a moment, and she took a deep breath, calming down the best she could.

“...Hey, we’re completely sure about this, right? If you ain’t, now’s the time.” She averted her gaze, putting on a cautious smile.

Emma expected this, honestly. This was probably the last moment before the two of them were fully committing to the plan, the last chance to drop out. Admittedly, Emma was a bit nervous about this, and there were still people from school worth talking to, people who’d probably miss them, an entire world they were leaving behind...

But Emma looked at Andrea, and saw every moment the two of them had had together, Andrea’s drive to protect her and her own drive to make Andrea feel loved, and the desire within her for this girl was too strong, too ecstatic for her to say anything other than...

“We’re in this, Andy.” The kiss that followed was a burst of bubbly electricity, a moment of pure, ecstatic togetherness.

~~~

Andrea turned to Spencer. “Dude. I’m saying that you’re getting somewhere with this, but that you can still goddamn do it without starving.”

Spencer raised his head from where he was lying on the bed. “Cmon Andrea, you know I’m fine.” “I can see you, man. You’re goddamn emaciated.” Andrea felt childish trying to be kind like this. They’d never had this kind of serious conversation before. Spencer finally sighed and got up. “Look, Drea, it’s hard to eat in this house, when I only get the chance around my family. You know that.” The bags under his eyes were all the more apparent.

PART TWO

Andrea slowly stepped to the bed from the window. She knew better than to get angry here, but this had to be said. “If you can handle being around your family for just the one week, we’re golden. We’ve got a place to stay, we’ve got fake documents, we’ve got goddamn everything.” She moved up to Spencer, intensifying her expression. “For the love of god, last that one week.”

“I’m gonna, Andrea,” Spencer said, defeated. “Just trust me.” Andrea wished she could.

NOWHERE, EVERYWHERE, THE ALLEYS

She walked and walked and walked. Her head hung low, and her movements grew shaky for moments, but she continued. Building after building passed, dark and imposing, the signage shadowed, hardly visible, and the roofs impossibly high. Andrea was a shrub on the side of the road to the passing cars, a pebble to the skyscrapers, a blur to the planes. The crowds had mostly dispersed, and she didn’t spare anyone who was still out a glance. Andrea was alone on the streets.

The shelter was about a quarter of a mile from here- the shelter, where she could rest, where she could make it to the next day, and make a recovery. The shelter, the one place her route could lead her, her only option, her savior. There was nothing more to it- nothing to think on, nothing to be done. She could keep going like this. She was about to keep going like this.

So she went, thinking nothing, feeling nothing, and watching those facades. Her head began to ache in spite of herself, and here she realized that she hadn’t had any water since Waffle house, three hours ago now. She could, she supposed, have gone in the apartment just to take some water and dip- she’d love to, honestly, but her future was this way, and the shelter had a water cooler, anyway. Still, without anything to drink, or anything to buy water with, her vision started to blur, and her steps became heavier, as her back hunched, and her mind went into a haze...

But she snapped out of it. The air and the lights were crisp again, and her eyes were set on the path forward. 9 more crosswalks, now. Tomorrow was within grasp, and that tomorrow would be a better one- even without Emma, she could make that day’s interviews, and she could thrive soon, she could make it all better. It was all about to get so much better.

But it can’t get better for Emma.

What?

Not without you.

...Sure, but it could’ve gotten better for her if she did come back with Andrea. The choice to forsake her was ultimately made by Emma- she chose to stay where it’s safe, to not commit to the life that the two of them had so earnestly planned, and now she was facing the consequences. Andrea’s steps quickened. She began to breathe from her mouth, tasting the warm city air. Besides all that, Emma would inevitably see Andrea’s success, and return to her. Tomorrow would be better. Andrea would survive.

You act as though you are completely above her. Wasn't she who you were doing all this for? She could adapt. She could support herself, too. Her rubber soles scraped on the concrete. Surely, one wouldn’t suspect that Andrea had lost the drive to continue for her own sake at this point? She still had the motivation to live, to make it better for herself, and in all honesty, she was convinced enough of this goal to see it through, as she always did. She wasn’t just someone who gave up at the first sign of hardship. I mean, she was a better person than that. Better than...

Than those who failed before you?

Oh, god- no, she was-- Andrea blinked. Her surroundings were suddenly far quieter. Her eyes refocused, and she noted that the one source of light around her was from the windows of the surrounding buildings, and that the pain in her legs had vanished, with a fuzzy, null feeling replacing it. From one side of her, the alley seemed to stretch out, windows and trash bins and concrete, again and again with no roads or visible endpoint- and from the other side, the same. The air was heavier. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fucking right at all. You aren’t doing this for yourself alone.

No reaction? Just going to keep prattling?

You can’t outrun your shadow.

The sky above her was starless, but now even the moon was under cover of cloudless, indefinable shadow. A few wisps of clouds- orange from the glow of the streetlights- passed above. That... must’ve meant she was still in the city. That must’ve meant that she was just lost, and she could find someone, and get directions, right?

So Andrea moved one foot forward, continuing past gold windows and concrete floors, glancing left and right for someone behind a window or for any other sort of opening, somehow knowing for certain that the next window, the next step, would be the one that brought her out of this, back to the streets, back to the shelter. Her thoughts looped in this fashion like clockwork as her legs’ movements grew a tentative franticness, and soon the windows passed with such speed, the walls with such ferocity, that-

You can’t check for anyone inside. You’re paying attention to nothing more than your own struggle.

So? The way forward was more important. Yet you still wish for the presence of another.

As if on command, the windows glowed brighter- yet at an angle that brought the shining path of their light to the ground. Andrea’s steps quickened once more, glimpsing at each pane to see nobody silhouetted against the light, but feeling eyes on her anyway. Andrea would find someone, eventually. If Emma didn’t return- which she would- she could meet someone else.

But is there anyone you can really love?

In this City? There’s probably someone for her. This was a dead sprint now. Somehow, Andrea wasn’t tiring as she took each step. As her body bounced and bounded, she spotted something- another building, far taller than all those surrounding her- such that its roof was higher than she could make out- lit up with golden windows, right at the end of the alley. A goal. A hope.

Though it felt impossible to quicken her pace, Andrea was moving faster despite herself, eyes trained on nothing but the points of light before her. Just a couple minutes now. It was time to get out of here.

Listen to me. There is not a single person in the city that you would accept.

Bounding and bounding. Each leap monumentous, each drop like a simple tap on the earth, like running on clouds. The past is within you. You remember every person in the Town deeply. Deep enough that everyone you meet will remind you of one of them.

Her vision was a camera with the field of view at its minimum, a single static image of that tower. There was nothing around her but the end. The tower swallowed the space around it in her eyes, and her vision was soon concentrated on one single window within it, everything she could perceive, everything she knew, being within a wash of golden light. She was filled with hope like water fills a tall glass, joy spilling out the top of her.

You will never know someone you even *like* if you continue like this. You’ll always find something wrong with them. You’ll never let them really know you.

The gap between her and the building was infinitesimal. This was it. This was it.

If someone were to know you, they’d know that you’re destroying yourself, and if they really care about you, they’ll try to help you through this. You’ll never let yourself be helped, and you’ll always scorn those who aren’t close to you. Do you get what that means? Do you get what this is all *leading to?* You’ll never know anyone again. You’ll never get where you really want to be. If you continue like this, the time you have left will be measured in weeks. You can’t keep going.

On that last bound, just before the end, Andrea felt a horrible, inevitable presence on the toe of her right sneaker, and the unmistakable sandpaper texture of concrete scraping on rubber, and her left leg finding nothing to support it, as she moved through the air, head sailing infuriatingly closer to the building as she barreled to the ground. She anticipated another scrape of concrete, the pain of impact, to feel her skin torn from her forehead...

But she opened her eyes, and saw that there was nothing.

PART TWO COMPLETE

Listen to me. The mind’s modus operandi is absorbing data from the world, to grasp a fuller picture of everything there is. The mind stores memories where they can become information, information where it can become one’s beliefs, beliefs where they can become identity, identity where it can become one’s self, all the way to the deepest layer of the psyche. You are the culmination of everything you’ve experienced, from memory one onward. That’s not all, though.

Your mind hasn’t just picked up on memory or information. There’s more at play.

There is a strong, strong force in this world that wants you dead. There are a thousand thousand Towns like your own, oppressing a hundred million people like yourself. There are an insurmountable sum of lawmakers, a thousand million people who desperately want you gone, a vast majority who will never understand you or your people. The world, in large part, hates you. But there’s more at play.

There’s a weak force, but a large one, that wants you to succeed. There are another thousand million people in the world who love your queer kind, who wish to protect you, who will always remain sympathetic to your plight. There are so, so many ways that your people’s love, your pride, moves back to yourselves, through art and relations and policy. Within this great love, something can manifest- something intangible. Something undefinable. Something compassionate. Something the mind can pick up on. This force is within you. I am within you, and my will is that you feel the same love that so many people have for you. Be strong. I love you.

Andrea felt, within that void, a presence- an intangible gesture like a tight embrace, made all the more abstract by her seeming lack of a body. There was, for a moment, nothing- yet at the same time, there was everything.

~~~

Andrea blinked. She was on a sort of concrete block, facing a long, dark alley that stretched far into the distance- the walls, floor, and sky meeting at a single point. Closer, there were two structures, made of the same concrete, between the alley and her- dividers, like the sort you see on highways. Her knees had a dull throb to them, and she felt the effects of exhaustion viscously flowing within her bones, but she found the strength to get up, anyway.

PART THREE

Moving nearer to the divider, a second glance at the tower revealed that the lights behind the windows were now all off, a dull blue in place of their illumination, and cheap blackout shades blocking their rooms. The tower was monochrome and brutalist up close, like someone turned a parking garage into a skyscraper. There weren’t even support beams near the overhang housing the block on which she woke up, which was actually built into the wall- a bench, maybe? There was nothing more than that potential bench and a single door, miniscule around the swath of concrete on the wall they were attached to- and the door appeared especially small, being the sort of door that separated rooms within houses, complete without so much as a lock. Andrea took a deep breath, looked once more at the infinite alley, and reached toward the knob.

37 ALBATROSS RD

Treading across the carpet, Spencer tentatively turned the knob for Andrea’s room. In the short span of time before she noticed him, he could take her room in- smaller than average even for the town, walls painted off-white, containing a bed with a metal frame, a small bookshelf, a smaller desk, hardly better than the type you’d see in schools- and not much else. Clothing covered the gray carpet, and golden-hour light came in through the windows. The shelf was of a sort one would expect to see in a kid’s room- old tchotchkes Andrea must’ve taken from her mother, coins and similar trinkets, and a small collection of books- seemingly organized by reading level, that petered off around the fourth grade. There was a disparity of mugs and bowls around the desk, surrounding a single, ancient-looking laptop with around 20 tabs loaded, the City’s tourism website being the open page.

Gasping a bit as she noticed his presence, Andrea turned to Spencer, giving an immediate light sigh of relief when she saw him. “Spence. Good to see ya.” “...Sure, likewise.” Spencer felt something bitter settle in his throat immediately, despite the conversation only having just started. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting going into this, but he wasn’t expecting her to be this... casual, right out of the gate. It had been a while since the last time the two talked, after all. A very long while. “...Drea? Are you feeling okay?” This came out annoyingly curt, a habit he was trying to break out of- that sort of curtness, that professionalism, the overwhelming cold confidence of it all... those were his last impressions on Andrea and Emma. Despite everything, it was easy for Spencer to feel a bit angry at himself for maintaining that habit all the way to the grave.

Andrea’s voice instantly woke Spencer from this train of thought. “Never better.” Spencer could notice the obvious signs of having been better in Andrea, showing up in the same spots that they had for him- eye bags, low, gravelly voice, clearly not eating enough- and giving the impression that she’s almost drifting in and out of consciousness, like you’re part of her waking dream. Once again, Andrea piped up mid-thought: “So, you’re here because...?” The bitterness in his throat moved to his stomach, flowing dark and deep, like oil. She was just as curt here as he had been, just as confident.

...Hm. Actually, that pattern made sense in Spencer's mind- same dictation, same goals, slowly dying the same way... Spencer knew what he did wrong the first time, so that would mean... “Alright, Drea, just so we’re on the same page... Two weeks ago, you tried to get someone to help you in the city, and that person ratted you out to the authorities.” Andrea’s previously glassy gaze shifted to a more attentive one. It was already clear that she wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation.

“...That’s right. Anything else?” Same curt tone of voice he was using, too. God, that was hard to talk to- pure dismissiveness, like shouting into the void. Spencer reminded himself the best he could that there was a part of Andrea that cared- there had to be, as long as part of him did.

“...And now you’re holed up in your room, not letting anyone else even be concerned about you.” If he was actually talking to his past, almost-dead self and not Andrea in his position, that’s when the past Spencer would tell the current Spencer simply to fuck off, but-

Andrea rose from her chair, making a point of looking Spencer directly in the eyes. She was still squinting, but with an expression conveying far more resignation- deeply unhappy that she was about to say this, but finding no other option, pushing her friends away to feed her work, again just like--

“Listen, Spencer.” Her tone was gravelly, again- a tone Spencer remembered her using on her parents when they were in a bad mood, or the cops on rare occasions, if only to deal with them all a little faster. “I’m tired of all these people trying to tell me that they know me, that they know what’s good for me.” She rolled her eyes a little. “I’m tired of everyone telling me I can trust them, that everything’s gonna be okay. I’m tired of goddamn pretending I can be helped, that there’s people... worth trusting.” Something flashed in her eye for a moment, and her expression became glassy again- “...Aren’t you?”

...No, he wouldn’t stand for this. Spencer shut his eyes tight, breathed in, breathed out, and swallowed hard. This was it. “You’re gonna call it coincidence when it kills you.” The room was instantly silent, a sudden lack of chirping birds or car engines outside the window. “I know I did.”

Andrea was visibly caught off guard. “...Excuse me?”

“When you see that you could’ve gotten help. You’ll say that since you got hurt once asking for help, and once not asking for help, it was random chance either way, that you couldn’t’ve prevented it.”

“...Spencer, what the hell...” Andrea tensed up. Her pupils contracted, and her gaze started flitting around the room. The dread within Spencer finally lessened, the oil singeing on the edge of hot, hot hope. She was starting to get it. “...What... is this?” Somehow, she managed to say that with a slight chuckle, the sort you use to maintain your authority in tense situations that question it. She was beginning to look dizzy, instinctively moving to hold her chest, staring just below the middle distance of his eyes.

“Andrea, asking for help isn’t what killed me.” Spencer stepped forward, holding onto his hope, making his stand. “Being betrayed didn’t kill me. The Town didn’t kill me.”

Tears were welling up in Andrea’s eyes, shock across her face. Spencer took one more breath.

“What killed me wasn’t choosing to get help. It was choosing not to get help. It was choosing not to let Emma force me to rest, not to let you help me scope out opportunities. It was choosing not to eat, choosing to bury myself in my work...” He shuddered. “Until there was nothing left, and that nothing walked out into the woods and died.” His eyes began welling up, too. In this moment, he remembered those two gay idiots he tried to save all that time ago in full- their struggles, their joys, their love for each other. For better or for worse, he died for them. He was going to make that death worth it. “Andrea, I could’ve asked for help again, and I would’ve survived. Please, no matter what- Emma needs you to survive. Whatever... set this up needs you to survive. I need you to survive.”

Andrea broke down crying, and at the same time something clicked behind her eyes, like she finally remembered. She ran to Spencer, practically tackling him as the two fell onto the fake ghost-memory of her childhood bedroom’s low-quality mattress. She held him for dear life, like he could slip away again at any moment, like he was that ending, that goal she was searching for.

“I fucking missed you, Spence,” she gasped through choking sobs.

She was back, that baby-gay butch he’d done it all for. Spencer knew, once again, that she’d do great things, that she’d finally bounce back. “I missed you, too.”

The two stayed like that for a long time, but a finite one. Slowly, light filled the room, and Andrea passively felt her perception start to fade, this dream of a body being forgotten, bit by bit, by her real one. Andrea knew they were leaving without saying goodbye again, but this was goodbye enough. They’d see each other again, anyway.

PART THREE COMPLETE

For the first time since... Since the night before that Waffle House Breakdown, which would be a great name for a band- Andrea was thinking straight. Checking her phone- and feeling a wave of pride for Emma, for not having tried to message her again, which would thereby enable her after that ages-ago argument- Andrea saw that this park was only 3 blocks away from that apartment, 1330 Edmnd Blvd. Feeling crisp, clear moonlight on her skin, seeing those city lights surrounding her, stretching out her sore, sore legs, Andrea took one more deep, deep breath, filling her lungs as much as she possibly could. This was a breath that meant: Thank you. I’m going back.

3 more blocks. Not everything would be okay, but it’d be survivable with Emma by her side. It wasn’t going to be that solution for everything she strived for, but it would be enough.

~~~

Warmth fluttered between the two embracing lovers somewhere on Edmnd street, yet somewhere far from it. Within deep primordial darkness, physical form ceased relevance, the energy of their spirits entwined shining bright through the dark. Spencer’s love, the love of those thousands of allies, the love of each other- everyone was within this moment. They were together again.

Made with love by Joan

Thank you so much for reading, I put so much of my heart into this... I hope I can spark even a little of the absolute joy that went into it within you. Remember how many people love you, just for existing!

Special thanks to:

Kayla

Sofia

Owen

Sam Charlie

My parents

The lovely people at my Art Of Writing class

The small, urethrally beautiful community we’ve cultivated on the Jumbo Josh discord server

My influences creating this, that being the great visual novels by NomNomNami and The Echo Project, as well as Disco Elysium

The oceanic bundle of love and energy that is the queer community

Anyone that I’ve missed! You all rule unequivocally

And you! You the audience member! You’re the best and I love you!

If you enjoyed this, check my blog out. This is the first real piece of art I've made, but i'm down to make some more in the future. One more time, thank you for everything.

#joan's extra special writing tag #writing #please please please read this #i spent so so long on it #<3

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the-firebird69 · 1 month

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We do have reports and we're going to give them now.

-- The Pseudo Empire under severe attack. There are large numbers of troops going after them. They were at about 30% last night they got back to 25% and right now we expect them to be down to probably 40 to 45% after tonight and their population is dropped they worried about 7.4 percent For real they did lose about a percent it's a lot and it brings it to 6.4 percent. It's a real hassle talking to you people and he just wants me to wait and see it when I can it makes sense we'll just keep beating you up. OK the Pseudo Empire in the Eastern Hemisphere is at 40% again that's really functioning bases it's not really their intermingled areas that's where people are coming from the general populace. It's hard to include that in formal basis which they're defending and that's percentage of population which are in smaller increments and it's hard to detail here so we're gonna do that later

-- The stashes and caches in the Western Hemisphere of Trump are pretty much at 10% out and they are going to be I would probably 20% total after a few more days the pace is still slow it's about the same overseas it'll take them a little to figure out what trump is up to

-- The nuclear bunkers the status is changing Usually it's similar to the statues and caches right now both of them are cordoned off but the nuclear bunkers are going to be at 30% out in the Western Hemisphere fully out tonight and tomorrow probably 30% in the eastern hemisphere and it is because they recognize it as the threat they're holding to hang onto the ships and the Mac proper are starting to attack. We are completely sick of this moron Trump reminding us of our job we are going to obliterate him and we're going to start picking targets i've had enough of this the cities are drawing a lot of attention and they're finding out that they took a lot of stuff. And they found out from the financial centers and those are dreaming of people of the trumps they are losing people very fast. so far in each center there 10 to 20 million top level people running it and each of those has lost half or 75% of them and they are losing a lot more and the guy is Teflon Donnie says it's so damned annoying that nobody can believe what he's saying and you can see that in all the movies nobody believes him at all he's **** everybody off and he's getting killed. A couple more things we'll take a break.

-- Jason figured it out yeah at the farmers market and he helped our son out and he figured out trump was hearing it somehow and he did see it get released and said this is a relief and it is nobody wants to in charge of anything and it's gonna be great he's a huge irritating **** ohh and he's going to be gone

Shell County is now a mess it's Charlotte County and their bodybuilding thing went off and they did look weird and they're disgusting they did not do well and they did not place well and they're not going to place well in general competition and it's their main characters no so they did on purpose and they're rude and they **** and they wanted to show them how gross they were and sick and gay and dumb and he stayed away from 'cause he doesn't have money to go anyways so their whole act was on each other in the hate each other they're a bunch of retarded faggots. and the afterparty. none. and comcon was slow if anything. empty booths too they left nobody comes here. now or ever. and went home and sobbed. tons of them yes. ahlf out by the end of the day. sunday will be slow. lame.

even our sons presence would not help a ton they said and no your not right. and they said it he alwsy attracts a crowd. and tons of htem. nad they said this we lose but no are ducking and using him. and so the others see it. stay away ad duck and then this oh no. and are terrified. true too.

Now this is the story of what they're doing wrong. They need information and they won't have it and it's too late now and there's cities are isolated and .... and there's cities are isolated and it's dumb and they don't have protection and they have to try and do things to the other cities and they're gonna get their **** beat. And it is the tale of two cities and both cities are pretty much corrupt and it is what happened back in the day and we have war to report but we're gonna print

and we have war to report but we're gonna print

Thor Freya

Zues Hera

Olympus

and slowed down and odd. and suspicious. so we look they are at each other yes. and over money. and a big fight ensues later tonight yes. the rings heat. about four hundred million soon tons more. and the say it we are at it now and mean.

we will pour in no but pour the allchohol and now too shipping it. tons. and the first batch no but first for hard stuff. They have it out there they are not dry it's really not that good and it's hard to dream so don't drink much of it and they put in stuff to kill the germs and taste funny and the tired of doing it and our stuff is coming out and it's good and there's a lot of it coming out I mean it is an enormous amount of alcohol it's enormous. And it is going out of the Midwest and it's going out of the other middle areas wine beer hard alcohol and other spirits and minerals lots of it there's a huge amount of rum being requested and we're going to post something

Thor Freya

things wil go to our son shorlty it is not too bad here no it is but he stiill can get things needs funds and that is low. but is ok. now we iimprove and nail the issue people. and tons ssay they take the mone it is all over the place and true they do from shitty cities and more. to here. and he will use it and attract dufuses. mamcs wil use it and as cover and insulation for their coded messages and will use up the morlock. tons say it starts soon they re ut when it drops and then they have to

true too

Thor Freya

good im ok slow stuff here annoying

Hera

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stealforreal · 3 years

Text

Future kids - Todoroki Shoto I

Todoroki meets his children from the future. Part 2 is up now you can find it on my tumblr masters list. Or click [here]

Todoroki Shoto x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Todoroki was understandably confused. One moment he was eating his cold soba in peace and quiet, the next a little girl came barreling into him. Clinging onto his pant leg for dear life, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Todoroki tensed, even if he was coming out of his shell, dealing with a little child while not having complete control over his flames terrified him. What if he ended up hurting her, when he wanted to help? He refused to be like his father. hurting small children.

A small tug on his leg brought him out of his thoughts, and back to the reality that a young girl probably no older than 6 was clinging to him. He could feel his pants getting wetter by the minute, drenched in the redheaded little princess’ tears. Kneeling down to her height, he put a hand on her head and pattet it gently. It was the only form of comfort he could think of would be appropriate. “ Hey snowflake, where's your parents?” Todoroki asked the little girl, making her look up at the stranger whom she was clinging to. A small gasp escaped her lips, as she began to sob harder and cling to him even more if that was even possible. “ I-Im so so sorry daddy *sniff* I can’t find Ren” Todoroki stiffened. Daddy? He wasn’t a dad, not yet anyways. But that didn’t matter when he was comforting a young girl, so he would play along for the time being. Besides he felt drawn to the little snowflake, maybe it was the fact that she was comfortable enough to seek comfort from him. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like him, with beautiful heterochromia eyes, one classic Todoroki cerulean blue and one e/c.

“ Take a deep breath, little snowflake. Can you tell me what year it is?” His usual monotone tone, took on a softer note talking to the girl. He was kneeling at her height, rubbing small circles on her small back, while she clung to his shirt, sobbing in his chest. She looked up at him with her big mismatched doe eyes brimming with tears “ Its 20xx” okay weird that is 15 years in the future, Shoto wasn’t stupid this was probably the work of a quirk. He then proceeded to ask her if she was indeed hit by a quirk.

She told him that apparently her and her twin brother Ren, were playing with some of their friends at a park. But when they were playing tag one of their friends got their quirk, and the twins got separated. When Reina, as she told him her name was, woke up and couldn’t find her twin brother Ren she began to panic. Then she began looking for him, but then she recognized the dual colored hair and ran to him.

In between her telling the story and sniffling quitely, Shoto had picked her up. While she was calming down in his arms, he began making his way back to the campus grounds. Mr.Aizawa would hopefully know what to do, and maybe they would find Ren on the way. It broke his heart to hear her sniffle, his little snowflake crying was heart wrenching. Even if she technically wasn’t born yet, she was still his little snowflake and he would protect her no matter the cost. He was so possessive of his little girl already and he had only met her 1 hour ago, he promised himself then and there that he would be a better father than Endeavor ever was.

Her sniffles and sobs stopped, and her trembling figure relaxed in his hold. He could feel the little one's gaze on him, and he turned his head to her tilting his head a bit to ask what was wrong. “ Why do you look so young, daddy? '' She asked with the little innocent voice of an angel, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her question. “ Well my little snowflake, right now I’m 16 and you haven’t exactly been born yet. I’m guessing your friend's quirk is something along the lines of time travel” he patiently explained to her, she nodded her head along as if she understood him. And if she inherited his intelligence, she just might have understood what he just told her completely.

The walk back to the dorms were filled with idle chatter, Shoto asking Reina about his future and how he was as a father. To which she exclaimed with a bright toothless smile ‘Daddys the best daddy in the whole world’ and he was so relieved that he wasn’t a horrible father like his own was to him. He ended up stopping for a minute so Shoto could pepper her with small soft kisses all over her cute slightly chubby cheeks. Her squeals of excitement warmed his heart, and a soft smile made its way on his face.

To onlookers they looked like a cute set of siblings, and small aw’s and so cute were heard in the background. But inside their little bubble, nothing could burst Shoto’s happiness at knowing he wouldn’t repeat his fathers mistakes. The long walk back to the dorms felt a lot shorter with his little snowflake talking his ear off. It was adorable really, she stumbled over a few words every once and awhile. She told him all about her and Ren’s adventures, how they accidentally froze their teacher when Ren got his quirk, and how he had to come and free the teacher.

Shoto was inexplicably happy that Ren got his quirk from his mothers side. But one thing caught his attention was the mention of their mother. He realized that Reina not once had mentioned her name, and as much as Shoto would hate to admit it he was beyond curious as to who he would ultimately spend his life with. A big part of him hoped that it was you, since he had finally found out what the fuzzy feeling he had around you was. Yep Todoroki Shoto was utterly and completely enamored by you, your personality was sweet and you would do anything for family and friends. Alongside Midoriya you were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

The closer to the dorms the two Todorokis came, the more his curiosity nagged him to ask his daughter who her mother was. When he could see the height alliance building a little longer down the road, his curiosity won. “ Snowflake, you never told me your mom's name. '' Reina brightened when he asked about his future wife, a big tell that his little girl adored her mother as much as she adored her father. '' Silly daddy, mom's name is Todoroki y/n of course, ``she said giggling. A bright smile adorned his handsome features as Todoroki stepped into the dorm's living room with Reina still in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

Class 1-A consecutively looked towards the door when it opened. They were trying to calm down the child that was crying on their sofa, who also happened to look suspiciously like their dual haired classmate. The young boy had dual colored hair and cerulean blue eyes, his hair was half white and half y/h/c. The child was obviously confused and scared, and had only stopped wailing when Kaminari short circuited. But alas he was still sobbing and the class was almost out of ideas. He had been asking about his parents, and calling for a person named Reina.

There in the door stood a smiling Todoroki, holy damn was the world ending. But what also caught their attention was the little redhead in his arms hugging him, the little girl's voice reached them and their jaws dropped. “ Daddy, is this the place you and mommy met?” It was such an innocent question, but 1-A was in a frenzy, so much so that they didn’t notice the little boy springing up from the couch and dashing toward Todoroki and the girl. They only came back to earth when a small happy “Daddy” was heard.

Todoroki was about to answer Reina’s question, when he heard the little cry “Daddy”. He turned his head towards the sound and so did Reina, she began bouncing in Shoto’s arms. “ Ren '' She shouted, making Shoto bend down and extend his arm that wasn’t holding Reina. Ren launched himself into Shoto’s chest, and Reina began hugging her twin brother as much as she could in their fathers embrace. “ Don’t worry my little snowflake, daddy’s got you” He whispered softly, calming Ren immediately. The rest of the class stood gobsmacked, daddy?

“Now my little snowflakes, let's go find Mr. Aizawa, so you can go home” Shoto’s arms were full, his little boy on one arm and his little girl on his other arm. How is he supposed to open the door? “ Midoriya, would you come with me to open the door?” Shoto’s tone was monotone as always, but slightly softer in the presence of his children. Midoriya simply nodded dumbfounded, nobody said a word. What were they supposed to say, with all the daddy claims, and seeing the children in the arms of their classmate confirmed it. They looked like the spitting image of the dreamy heterochromia boy, but with some tweaks. There were the y/h/c and the girls one e/c eye, that obviously must’ve come from their mothers side.

On the way to the teacher dormitories, the twins talked excitedly with each other, while Shoto explained the situation to Midoriya. Midoriya felt like he had seen the features on the twins that certainly didn’t come from Todoroki’s side, but with how much they looked like their father it was nearly mission impossible.

Coincidentally on her way to Mr. Aizawa as well, you spotted the tuft of green hair and tufts of red and white hair. Hm, must be on their way to Mr.Aizawa as well you thought. Jogging up to them, you poked Midoriya’s shoulder. Even if you were in class 1-B, you had a pretty good friendship with the cute green haired cinnamon roll. Your quirks were similar in a sense, since yours was a boost of strength as well. Not nearly as strong as Midoriya’s, but still. That is why you were training partners, and through him you had met his friend circle. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see Midoriya and Todoroki together.

But when they turned to you, you were left flabbergasted by the two cuties in Todoroki’s arms. Before the boys could react, Ren began squirming chanting ‘mommy’. Shoto sat him and Reina down, because she too began squirming once they caught sight of you. The two children that were previously in Todoroki’s arms, now tackled you in a hug. “Daddy look, we found mommy” they said in unison. Two children around 6 years old launching at you, could make even the best of them fall on their butts. Which was exactly what happened, they were squeezing you as tight as their small forms would allow.

Choosing to ignore the small ‘mommy and daddy’ comment, you carefully scooped them up in your arms. The look that Shoto gave you was enough to go along with this little charade, he looked at the three of you like you were his entire world. His eyes were shining with happiness, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. Lightly bouncing the ecstatic but sleepy children in your arms, you turned your attention to the two males before you. “ You wouldn’t happen to need Mr.Aizawa as well, would you?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. The two boys nodded, and you began walking again towards the teachers dormitory. You sent Todoroki a small pointed glare, silently commanding him to explain the situation.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt shorter than usual, since your attention was occupied. Todoroki explained his theory that a quirk sent the twins to the past, and that the two of you were their parents. As crazy as that sounded it made so much sense, and looking at the children you would lie if you said you didn’t see the resemblance. Midoriya explained how Ren was crying before Todoroki arrived, and how confused they were when they heard the little boy yelling ‘daddy’. Ren was probably the most scared, since he didn’t recognize anyone in his panicked state. Besides, most of the students probably look a lot different in the future, so it's kind of a miracle that the twins recognized you. Shoto will always be pretty easy to recognize, with his distinct hair, eyes and the showstopping scar. It complimented the handsome teen next to you so well, no wonder he was one of UAs top heartthrobs. Stopping for a second, you just realize something. If the twins in your arms are you and Todoroki's, then that means that you ended up scoring the half-n-half quirk user. Nothing could wipe the shiteating grin that made its way on your face, eliciting concerned and curious glances from the males beside you.

Mr.Aizawa had his fair share of strange situations. He had been teaching at UA for some time, and student’s quirks weren’t always a walk in the park. Never had he ended up in a situation quite like this though, he had to rub his eyes twice to make sure it was real. In front of him were 2 out of Class-1A’s trouble makers and one of his favorite students from Class-1B, they had two small children with them. Easily recognized as twins, and they looked like the half - n- half troublemakers children.

This was going to be a long night.

#mha #mha x reader #dad au #shoto todoroki #mha midoriya #mha todoroki #mha x y/n #dad todoroki #Twins #timetravel #quirks #Shoto is so cute #futurekids

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Heyo! I'm a REALLY REALLY REALLY! Big fan of angst and your works, so I have a suggestion! So like, in this au Bakugou and Y/N are aged up and they have a daughter (let's just say her name is either Katsumi or Kirumi). So, the child is 4 years old and she didn't get her quirk yet. Let's just say Bakugou got drunk when his friends dragged him to a bar and this woman decided to hit him up and let's just say he cheated- so Y/N found out because kiri just had to tell her because it wasn't manly at all for him to keep a secret and Y/N left him with his child and boom! Bad ending. Please tag me in this one tyy!

Bet.

(Changed it up the slightest bit to make Katsumi remember bc I kinda wanna do a part 2 for this)

Nobody to Blame but Yourself - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, cheating, alcohol consumption

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

You have a small, beautiful family. Your loving husband, Katsuki and your adorable daughter, 5 year old Katsumi.

Katsumi was your precious baby girl. She had Katsuki’s ash blonde hair with your silky smooth hair texture. She had your E/C eyes and Katsuki’s porcelain skin. She had Katsuki’s bravery and boldness along with your kindness and compassion. She was a perfect mix of you both.

Y/N and Katsuki have been together ever since their childhood. Their families were close and they grew up together. Katsuki always swore to protect his princess. They got together in their junior year and about 5 years after they graduated from UA high, Katsuki proposed.

—

“Be back soon, okay Suki?” You sweetly said to your husband as he got closer to the door. He pulled you in with a smile and pecked your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah Teddy Bear. I’ll probably be back sooner than you think, don’t even wanna go with those losers.” He complained with a strained face. You giggled at his expression and went on.

“Those losers have been your best friends since high school. You love them. You know you do,” you teased. “Besides, you haven’t spent some time with them in forever.”

“Yeah Y/N. I’m a husband and a dad. I don’t need to be around my friends, I need to be with my family.” He exclaimed with a playful voice.

“Well your family will still be here when you get back. Just as long as you always come back to us too.” You said with a wink.

“Always will Teddy Bear.” He said holding you tight. He held you close until you both heard the little pitter patter of feet running to the front door. You both looked down and saw your daughter in her pjs and watched as she jumped onto Katsuki.

“Be back soon daddy!” She said with a squeal. Katsumi was definitely a daddy’s girl. Her and her father were attached at the hip the second she was born. They were best friends and you loved their father-daughter dynamic.

“Katsumi, you’re supposed to be sleeping, love.” You said with a chuckled as you held her tiny hand while Katsuki picked her up in his arms.

“I wanted to say bye to daddy before he went to see uncle Kiri! And uncle Denki and uncle Sero and Auntie Mina!” She said and watched as you and Bakugou lip synced to her voice as she said the Bakusquad’s names. She laughed at her parent’s teasing as Katsuki assaulted her in kisses.

“That’s sweet baby bear. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. So get to bed you brat,” Bakugou said as he placed his daughter down and ruffled her hair. Others would look down on the rough treatment but you knew Katsumi never took it seriously. She always laughed and played back with Katsuki whenever he put on his ‘mean guy act.’

“M’kay.” Katsuki bent down to kiss her cheek and you followed doing the same action before Katsumi ran back off to her room. You and Katsuki said bye to each other after Katsuki gave you a loving kiss. He walked out the door to meet with his friends as he knew he was in for a long night.

It would soon shock him to see how true that statement would be.

—

The night was going well. Katsuki left around 8:30 and he said he would be back sooner than you thought so considering he was now a family man, you thought he’d be back by midnight. However, you woke up in the middle of the night and saw it was 3 in the morning...and he still wasn’t home. You were starting to get worried now.

If this was back in your earlier years of marriage, you’d say this was okay. Not great but okay, except now, Katsuki has responsibilities and promises that he vowed to keep. He should’ve been home a long time ago. Where was he? You stayed up deciding to sit and wait for him to come home and after almost 2 hours, your phone rang.

You picked it up quickly with a little bit of fear and anger sitting in your stomach. You didn’t even bother to check who it was so when you heard the voice of your husband’s best friend instead of Katsuki, you grew concerned.

“Katsuki! Where are you?!” You asked with worry as you slightly shouted into the phone.

“Hey Y/N..... It’s Kirishima. Umm...I have something to tell you.” He said with sadness detected in his voice.

“Kiri? Is everything alright? Wheres Katsuki?” You asked.

“I’m so sorry Y/N...”

Listening to the red head’s voice made your eyes pop. Your body trembled and tears began to pool in your eyes as you shook your head in denial. Katsuki loved you. You both had a daughter! A family! He would never....he wouldn’t....right? After talking to your friend for some time and getting the crucial information you needed, you made up your mind on what you had to do.

“T-Thank you, Kirishima. Goodnight.” You said into the phone with a hiccup.

“I’m sorry Y/N. You don’t deserve this. You and Katsumi....goodnight.” He said and hung up the phone. You placed it down and sat in silence for a moment. After about a minute, you broke down again and cried into your hands. You sobbed as tears flowed down your cheeks. Rivers of heartbreak and anger streamed down your face as you cried the night away.

Well..you couldn’t cry all night. Katsuki would probably be back in the morning and you had plans. You’d have to save your tears for later. You looked at the time.

4:18 a.m.

You set your alarm for 6 and went back to bed. The whole night, all you could think about was your precious baby girl. This was going to break her little heart. Instead of crying over your husband’s betrayal, you wept for your daughter’s future without her best friend. Eventually you cried yourself to sleep and the sun rose in time.

—

10:00 a.m

Katsuki opened his eyes to the alarm on the nightstand. He yawned a bit before adjusting his eyes to morning light. The more he looked at the stand, the more he realized he didn’t recognize it. Nor the alarm clock. He looked around and noticed he wasn’t in his bedroom. Katsuki shot up and sat on the bed and looked down to notice he was completely undressed. He looked to the side and saw some random woman. A complete stranger who was also naked in bed with him. His heart grew rapid as his eyes grew frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no, no this can’t be happening..this can’t be happening!” Katsuki said as his hands found way to his hair as he tugged on the blonde locks. The woman next to him awoken to his shuffling and smiled up at him. She placed her hand on his bare chest and cuddled in close to him as she sighed in content.

“G’morning handsome. Had a fun night?” She teased, reminding him of his affair and unloyal actions.

“Get the fuck off me!” He said as he jumped out of bed and found his pants. He pulled them on and continued to scream. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! The hell did you do to me you fucking slut?”

“What’re you talking about? And who the fuck are you calling a slut?” The woman said with sass.

“Just tell me where I am!” Katsuki demanded.

“A hotel! You know, the hotel you dragged me to so you could get your dick wet.” She said as she sat up from the bed but still covered herself with the blanket.

“Why the fuck would I do that?!” He screamed.

“You tell me. All I know is that I saw you in that bar, you drank a hell of a lot with your friends, I came up to you and flirted with you, you flirted back, we shared a few more drinks, and you dragged me here. I mean, I consented of course but still.” The stranger explained. Bakugou shook as he looked around in a frenzy. “Anyway, round 2?”

“You fucking bitch, I have a wife!” He screamed at her as he got himself dressed.

“Heh, wow. Well when your wife leaves you after she finds out you cheated, give me a call.” The woman said as she layed back down on the bed. Katsuki seethed at her as he squinted his eyes in disgust.

“You shameless slut. Like hell I will! And Y/N’s not gonna leave me! She loves me! And I love her-“

“Sure didn’t seem like it last night~” the woman said. Bakugou had enough and blasted the bed she was on with his quirk before cussing her out and leaving her there. He quickly ran out the hotel and found his car. He hopped inside and started it as he quickly sped off home.

“Shit!” Bakugou screamed at himself. How could he do that?! How could he cheat on you?! You were his everything! You and Katsumi! His two girls were his entire world! And he betrayed the both of you by doing this. He could only hope that you wouldn’t find out. He can’t tell you what he did. He would lose you! He can’t lost you! This whole thing just has to pass over and things will be fine. Right? Well something didn’t sit right with him as he inched closer and closer to his house.

—

When the 6 o’clock alarm rang, you woke up, ready for the day to begin and the drama to unfold. You were quick to get yourself ready. Brush your teeth, shower, get dressed, a little makeup, and you packed your important belongings and your clothes. Everything else would be replaceable. You put on a pair of shoes and put the rest in the large suitcase you had.

You made a quick call to Mina, assuming she already knew what happened. You asked if you could drop Katsumi off for some time and she of course said yes. After saying ‘thank you,’ you brought all your bags into your car and went back inside to get your daughter.

You walked into your daughter’s bedroom to see her sleeping peacefully. Next to her bed, a framed picture of your once happy family. It was Katsumi’s 4th birthday and she didn’t want to spend it with anybody else except for Mommy and Daddy. Now, you were gonna have to take someone out the picture. You shook your daughter awake and watched as she opened her beautiful E/C eyes that resembled your own.

“Katsumi..hey baby, wake up.” You softly said with a reassuring smile to not alarm her. You watched as she rubbed her eyes with her tiny fist and looked up at you.

“Mommy? What’s going on?” She asked as she looked around in a daze.

“You’re gonna have a little play date at Auntie Mina and Uncle Kiri’s house. Uncle Denki and Uncle Sero will be there too! You excited?” You asked with enthusiasm to hide your pain.

“Really Mommy?!” Your daughter asked with excitement.

“Mhm! Get ready and get dressed for Mommy. They’ll be here at 8, okay?” You said rubbing your daughter’s back before she quickly jumped out of bed and into her own bathroom.

“Okay Mommy!” She said as she ran into the bathroom, turning on the sink to begin her morning routine. Some time passed and Katsumi got dressed and you went back in her room to help her dry her hair. You helped her put on her shoes and by the time they were on, Mina and Kiri were already at the door.

You opened it with a soft smile and the couple looked at you with supportive, sad eyes. “Hey guys..”

“It’s okay to be sad Y/N, we’re here for you.” Mina said. Your eyes teared up at her words but you shook your head and gave her a hug.

“Thank you, but I promise myself I wouldn’t cry. At least, not when Katsumi’s around. I gotta be strong for her. Her whole life’s about to change after all.” You sadly said as you looked down and released your hold on Mina. Your pink friend nodded before walking into the house to find Katsumi in her bedroom. You and Kirishima stayed at the door and talked a bit more.

“I’m so sorry for all of this Y/N. I should’ve been watching him more.” Kirishima said as he looked down in sorrow.

“Kiri, you shouldn’t have to watch him. He cheated and that was his choice. Your choice was being a true friend and telling me. A true man,” you joked. You both gave a little bittersweet laugh before calming down again. “Thank you so much Kirishima.”

The red head did nothing but pull you in for a tight hug. You almost cried on his shoulder before your daughter came to the both of you. “Uncle Kiri!”

You both separated and looked down at the excited 5 year old. She jumped onto her uncle and he happily held her in his arms. “Hey squirt. Ready for a day full of fun?”

“Mhm!” Katsumi replied. You all talked some more before Katsumi said her goodbye to you and went off with Kirishima and Mina. You shut the door and took a break as you allowed a few silent tears to drop. You wiped them away and went to pack your daughter’s bags. Just a few more hours and he’d be home..probably. All you knew was that you’d have to face him eventually.

Finally, you finished packing your daughter’s things and placed them in your car. You put on a jacket and waited for Katsuki to walk through the doors. Soon, this perfect little family would go crumbling to the ground.

—

Katsuki pulled into his driveway and his eyes took notice of your car still there. He smiled at the sight and quickly got out of the car. He slammed the vehicle door shut and ran to the entrance. He unlocked the door in a rush and to say he was happy to see you on the couch, still there, was an understatement.

“Y/N! Hey Teddy Bear! I am so sorry!” He said as he ran to you and sat down next to you on the couch, pulling you in for a tight hug. He was too happy to even notice your jacket and shoes that you wore.

“Katsuki, you were gone all night. Where were you?” You said in a soft voice as you placed your hand on his chest so you could face him.

“I-..I overdid it and spent the night at Kirishima’s. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, love. I was passed out the whole night.” He said and attempted to pull you in again but you pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. You couldn’t believe he was going to lie to you. Actually, now that you think about it, cheating wasn’t below him so why would lying be either?

“So why didn’t Kirishima call me? Or Mina?” You questioned. Unfortunately, you underestimated Katsuki’s quick tongue. He was a good liar, and if you hadn’t already known the truth, you’d probably believe him.

“Shitty hair’s phone died and Alien girl was asleep by the time we got back. By the time he put me in the guest bed, I knocked out so don’t asked me what happened after.” He said. Your anger and fury grew at his lies but he didn’t notice. “Look, I’m so sorry I came back so late but I can make it up to you Teddy Bear. Now would you just give me a hu-“

“SHUT! UP!” You screamed as you pushed him off of you. You stood up from the couch and Bakugou watched you in “confusion.” Bakugou felt his heart racing as he had a guess at why you were so mad but he refused to believe it.

“T-Teddy Bear, whats wrong?” He asked with shaky hands as he tried to reach out to you but you dodged all his attempts.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You’re fucking lying to me! You’re lying to me after doing what you did! Katsuki, are you just gonna act like you don’t know what you did?! Because I know! So why don’t you?!” You screamed at him. Bakugou still couldn’t believe you knew so he tried his soft attempts once more and reached out to you again.

“Baby, please calm dow-“

“Are you fucking serious Katsuki? You’re gonna tell me to calm down?!” You laughed out in disbelief. You watched as Katsuki’s lip began to tremble and he looked down in shame. “Say it.”

“What?” He spoke softly.

“Say what you did.”

“......”

“Say it Katsuki! Tell me what you did and how you betrayed not only me but your daughter too.” You specified. It took Bakugou a second before he spoke up in a soft, quiet voice.

“I cheated on you...”

“Louder.”

“I cheated on you!” He said while standing up and facing you with tears in his eyes. “I cheated on you! Okay?! I got drunk last night and slept with someone else but baby I swear I didn’t mean it!” He said as he walked to you and tried to hold you. You once again pushed his hands away before speaking back.

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not Katsuki! You still did it!” Your voice grew dry as it began to break. Your eyes pooled with tears as you continued. “I would’ve NEVER done that to you. I wouldn’t even be CAPABLE of doing that to you Katsuki! Because I love you!”

“I love you Y/N! I swear I do!” He fought back but you retaliated.

“It doesn’t seem like it! Because you slept with someone else! You promised me you would never hurt me. You promised you would always protect me. You promised me that you loved me and only me! Not only that but you promised your daughter that you would never bring harm to her! Guess what?! You’re the reason her whole life is going to be so fucked Katsuki! Do you realize that?!” You screamed at him.

“I do, Teddy Bear, I do!” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that Katsuki!” You said with an exasperated voice. Bakugou shook his head as he walked to you and kneeled infront of you.

“Baby, please! I’m sorry! I was drunk, it didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake but if we can forget about this I promise I’ll make it up to you!” He begged.

“Forget? Forget?! Are you insane?! I’m never gonna be able to forget any of this Katsuki. How the hell am I supposed to forget that my first friend, my first love, my first kiss, my first everything betrayed me like this! How am I supposed to forget that my husband, who I’ve known since we were fucking babies, cheated on me?! Tell me!” You said as the tears finally fell.

“I don’t know...I don’t know but I promise I can make it up to you! So please forgive me! Please stay!” He pleaded. The whole time he couldn’t let go of you. Every time you pushed him off, he just came right back.

“How am I supposed to trust that you’ll actually keep that promise?” You said softly with a sad voice. “If it wasn’t clear already, I’m not staying. We’re getting a divorce, Katsuki.”

Bakugou felt his heart shatter. He looked at you with his trembling body and shaky irises. “W-What?”

“Katsuki...you cheated. There’s no other way around it. No explanations or excuses. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I’ve been blackout drunk before too and the idea of cheating on you never even crossed my mind. You have nobody to blame but yourself.” You said with a broken voice and a shrug. “We’re getting a divorce and I’m taking Katsumi with me.” You said and began to walk to the door.

Bakugou couldn’t believe what he just heard and so he got up from his knees and ran after you. He ran in front of you and held you by the shoulders. “What?! No! Baby!! Please, that’s my daughter! You can’t just take her from me, please!”

“I won’t be taking her from you,” you said and pushed his hands off your shoulders. “We can co-parent, but when she’s old enough, when Katsumi asks why we’re no longer together, I’ll be telling her the truth. So you can still see her, but when she’s ready to know, if she decides she hates you and doesn’t want to see you ever again, then you’ll have to accept it.”

At this point, Katsuki began to openly cry as he allowed his fat tears to flow down his face. Hiccups left his mouth as he shamelessly sobbed infront of you. “Y-Y/N....please don’t go. You guys are my family, you’re both my entire world..I-I love you both so much,” he said and went in to grab your hand, which you allowed. “I know I hurt you both a-and I know I fucked up, but please just give me another chance. I swear this was just a mistake, I never meant to do it. Please stay...please let me fix my mistake. I love you.”

Tears once again filled your eyes but you didn’t allow them to flow. “.....I love you too Katsuki,” at those words, Bakugou felt a bit of hope. “But I just can’t stay with you. If it was just me..I probably would give you another chance..but Katsumi is your daughter Katsuki. She’s your own flesh and blood and you betrayed her. You’re supposed to be her hero and you betrayed her like this. I just can’t trust the fact that you won’t do something like this again, and not just for my sake but for our daughter’s too. I’m sorry, but this is where we end.”

Once you said that you walked away from Bakugou, leaving him in shock. He stood there, regretting everything. Not just his mistake, but all the times where he could’ve been a better husband.

‘I should’ve held her more..I should’ve been home more...I should’ve been more for them,’ he thought until he heard the door open and slam shut. He turned to face it and looked around the now very empty house. He allowed silent tears to drip down his face and then he took a little tour of his new environment.

He walked to the master bedroom and saw all your belongings gone. He saw your closet was empty, all your shoes gone. He went into the bathroom and saw all your stuff was missing. The tears flowed faster and when he walked into his daughter’s room, it made it 10x worse.

He opened the door to the pink room and saw her bedsheets missing, all her toys gone, her closet was barren, and her bathroom was hollow. He walked back out to his little girl’s former bed and sat down. He cried on the bed and sobbed into his hands. He broke down as he thought back to your words. You were right.

‘You have nobody to blame but yourself.’

Katsuki looked up from his hands and when he did, he took notice of the picture frame that was left faced down on the night stand. He picked it up and his heart turned to dust. It couldn’t break anymore. He looked at the picture of his once happy family. His beautiful wife, his blessing of a daughter. His two girls who had a protector...that protector was supposed to be him...and he failed. He smiled at the picture but continued to cry. It was a beautiful sight but you left it behind.

He took the picture with him as he walked to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and held the frame close to his chest as he layed down on the cold mattress. Tears still freely fell as a shadow casted over his eyes. No words could be said except for a few.

“N-Nobody to blame but myself.”

@darl1ngmei

A/N: Hey Cubs! It’s been awhile since my requests have been closed AND THEY STILL ARE but the reason why I took this one was because I’ve been on a writing spree recently (I literally have 15 drafts full of different writing pieces🤣) and I rly liked this request! Please don’t start sending requests because they may just get lost. When I open up my requests, then you guys can send some because I love to satisfy! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this piece and thank you to the cub who requested this! 🧸💗

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

#bnha 326 #all might #yagi toshinori #stain (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

Note

If it's not going to be triggering, could you write just something with Hotch involving self harm? It doesn't have to be him being the one doing it. I've just read your other ones and they're very comforting so... yeah. Thank you and don't worry about it if you can't

cw: self harm, suicidal ideation, violence (Foyet), abuse mention

At first, Aaron doesn't think anything of it.

When he finds himself particularly anxious or upset, he presses on the places where Foyet stabbed him, relishing the pain and sometimes even blood that seeps through the bandages, reminding him that he is real, that his pain is real.

It doesn't seem like so much of a leap, then, when the stab wounds finally heal and Aaron realizes he'll have to cope in a different way. When he picks up his Swiss army knife - a gift from his father, which seems fitting. When he cuts into his thigh on purpose.

It's not like anyone is going to find out, he thinks. It's not like Haley or Jack are around to notice. It's not like anyone else in the world really cares.

He tells that to himself over and over, every time he refuses to cry, every time he feels like he's going to drown in the shame, every time he harms his own body without a second thought.

In time he moves from his thighs to his arms, recognizing that it doesn't matter - that nothing matters. No one will ever notice, because he'll never let anyone get that close to him ever, ever again. Besides, he thinks. Foyet is probably going to kill you anyway. It's only a matter of time.

Of course, Foyet does not kill Aaron. He kills Haley, and he tries to kill Jack, too, and Aaron destroys him with his bare hands.

When Morgan pulls him off of Foyet's body, Aaron thinks about how he is a monster.

When they find Jack safely hidden in the same house where his mother has just been murdered, Aaron thinks about how he is a monster.

When the paramedics come and Spencer helps Aaron out of his shirt so they can look at his hands - when his arms are on full display - when Spencer can see what he's done to himself -

Aaron thinks about how he is a monster.

"Hotch," Spencer says, ushering the paramedics away until they're alone in the ambulance. "Hotch, look at me."

Aaron can't do it, can't let his eyes meet Spencer's, can't acknowledge what he's done, both today and before. He just stares at his bandaged hands and wishes Foyet had taken him instead of Haley.

"Hotch," Spencer says again, softer this time. "I'm not judging you, I just want to know if you're okay. Because I think you're probably not. And that's all right, I just... I just want you to know I'm here."

"Nobody's here," Aaron mutters. "You shouldn't be here. I'm toxic."

"No, you're not," Spencer says quickly. "You've been through an incredible amount of pain, and a huge loss, and a lot of fear. You're allowed to break down, just... let someone help you through it. It doesn't have to be me. Do you want me to go find someone else?"

"No one else," Aaron whispers. "Just you."

"Okay," Spencer says, sounding more sure of himself even with just that one word. "Can I ask you something? Will you be safe if you go home alone with Jack tonight?"

"I would never hurt Jack."

"Hotch, I know that. I'm not worried about Jack's safety, I'm worried about yours."

Aaron shrugs.

"Do you think..." Spencer hesitates. "Can I stay with you and Jack tonight? Just in case you don't feel safe?"

Aaron chokes back a sob.

"You don't have to do that," he says.

"I know I don't. I'm asking if I can. Because I care about you."

"Okay," Aaron says, so quietly he can't tell at first if Spencer heard him.

"Good, that's good," Spencer says. "Will you wake me up if you need help? Instead of, you know..." He motions toward Aaron's arms. "Instead of hurting yourself?"

"I can try."

"That's enough for me," Spencer tells him. "Thank you, Hotch."

"For what?"

"For trusting me."

"I might as well trust you," Hotch murmurs, "since I can't even trust myself."

"It's going to get better, Hotch, I swear," Spencer says. "You're in the worst part of it right now. It won't feel like this forever."

"You promise?" Aaron asks, his voice full of tears.

"I promise."

#most of my tags are going to stay the same #but i'm putting my content warnings at the top instead of in the tags #because i know some of the scary ones might get blocked #all the other tags will stay down here <3 #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #maya writes more than 5 sentences

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topazy · 3 years

Text

Silent bloom

Pairings: Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood and vomit

Chapter: 2.04

You sat inside the commander's tent shaking, as you stared at the blood on your hands. Raven’s scream echoes in your ears.

Clarke sat down beside you, "Y/N … I don’t know what to say."

You began to frantically wipe the blood off, rubbing your hands against your trousers until Abby and Kane entered. Abby immediately pulled her daughter in for a hug.

Clarke stepped back from her mom and looked at you sympathetically. "They would have tortured him. You did what you thought was right."

"What did I do?" You sobbed.

Before Clarke had a chance to say anything else, Gustus entered. "The commander will talk now."

"Blood has answered blood." Lexa said, stepping forward. "Some on my side say that's not enough; they want the murderer to suffer as our tradition demands. But they do not know that your suffering will be worse. What you did tonight will haunt you until the end of your days. Still, there will be restitution. The body will be given to Tondc. The murdedered and the murderer will be joined by fire. Only then can we have peace."

Kane shook his head, "No, no, we've done enough. The boy should be buried by his own people-"

"Enough? We were owed the pain of 18 deaths, we were owed the righteous kill my village deserves justice." Indra spat.

Your heart hammered in your chest. You kept thinking of the last real conversation you had with Finn. His voice was so clear inside your mind, he could have been standing beside you.

‘I was scared... when you disappeared. I thought I’d never get the chance to say I’m sorry, and I needed you to know that I love you.’

Why didn’t you see the signs then? He was saying goodbye. Thinking back, you knew Finn must have already made his mind up to hand himself in.

It was all too much for you. You jumped up and ran outside the tent to throw up, ignoring the dirty looks you were getting. Nobody could hate you more than you hated yourself at that moment. Once you had composed yourself, you noticed Raven crying over Finn’s body, and slowly made your way over to her.

"Go away."

"Raven," you sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"I said go away!"

The brunette couldn’t even look at you, and you didn’t blame her. "I’m so sorry. They were going to torture him. I couldn’t let him suffer."

"He loved you! He loved you, and this is how you repaid him!" Raven eventually lifted her head to look at you. "He was the only family I have, and he’s dead because of you."

Hearing the words coming from her mouth made your body physically ache.

Clarke placed her hand on your shoulder as she stood beside you. "The commander had now agreed to help us," she said quietly before facing Raven. "I know how hard this must be for you, but I'm leaving with the Grounders and I need you to work on the radio."

The brunette stood up and glared at you. "You agreed to this? Is that why you killed him? For some deal?"

"What? No," you pleaded. "I just … I couldn’t let him suffer."

"We're taking him back to the village where the massacre took place. There's a death ritual." Clarke cleared her throat. "It's the only way to get our people out of Mount Weather."

As the grounders began to move Finn’s body, you jumped back when you saw his eyes open wide. You rubbed at your eyes and then they were closed again. You were going insane.

"Daisy?"

You turned to face Clarke. You knew by the look on her face that whatever she was about to say wasn’t good. But then again, things couldn’t get any worse. "What’s going on?"

"I think you should stay."

"Wait … Have you decided that I'm going to stay here as some kind of punishment?"

The blonde let out a sigh. "No. Look, Daisy, I’d be lying if I said the thought of doing what you did didn’t cross my mind. I understand it, I really do."

"But?"

"I spoke to my mom and she agreed it would be for the best. A lot of the grounders still blame you for what Finn did, and now-"

You finished the sentence for her, "now our own people hate me."

"I can walk you back to camp before I go? I don’t think you should go back alone."

You declined Clarke’s offer. "It’s fine, thanks though."

If anything happened to you, you’d deserve it anyway.

—

"I know why you're hiding."

You glanced up at Murphy as he sat down beside you. You had been hiding out in your room since you thought Finn was sitting across you in the canteen. He was everywhere. Screaming at your dead friend and telling him to leave you alone definitely drew some unwanted attention.

Shrugging, you looked away from him, "I don’t know what you mean."

"When the grounders first took me … no, actually even before that. When I was banished and alone, I used to see her while wandering the forest."

You finally turned to face him. He looked so broken compared to his usual smugness. "Charlotte?"

Murphy nodded.

"I see Finn everywhere I look. A part of me is glad that I’m seeing him; it’s keeping him alive." You stopped talking when you saw the look on Murphy’s face.

After a few moments of silence, you let out a laugh. "Why are you here?"

"Well, the council decided to send a bunch of teenagers to earth-"

You let out a soft laugh. "Don’t be a smartass. I meant in my room, not on earth."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I know how it feels."

You gripped your knees into your chest tighter as you let out a shaky breath. Never in a million years did you think John Murphy would be the only person able to comfort you.

"Why did you come back here? I thought you would have stayed with Finn’s body."

"Clarke and Abby didn’t want me to," Murphy frowned, letting out a scoffing noise. "It would have been more difficult to get the deal to run smoothly with me there, and I think they are right." Raven would have been so consumed by anger towards you that she wouldn’t have been able to focus on the radios. "I just wish I’d gotten to see Octavia before she left."

But not Bellamy. You wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye.

"You know, I actually wish the mountain men took me instead of the grounders," you sighed. "Finn would be alive, and I wouldn’t have destroyed Raven."

"You're wrong," he replies. "Finn would still have needed to pay the price for what he did. We all do eventually. But one thing would have been different."

"What?" You asked.

"Raven might have traded me. You think you destroyed her? I shot her. I’m the reason she almost died."

"Was it an accident?"

Murphy frowned, "Of course it was."

You let your legs go straight because you're feeling them start to cramp. "You shouldn’t punish yourself for it; what’s done is done."

"You're such a hypocrite!"

"No I’m not!" You yelled back. "You didn’t mean to hurt her, I meant to kill Finn. I meant to kill my best friend." Shaking your head, you stood up. "Thanks for the company, but I need some air."

—

His blood on the ground was still surprisingly fresh looking.

I’m so sorry Finn.

The whole area seemed eerily quiet now that all the grounders had packed up and gone. It was as if nothing happened.

Sighing, you placed your hand against your chest, which now felt bare. You’d lost the daisy necklace that Finn made you years ago, and without it you felt naked.

How would you ever move on from this? You would need to eventually. It would be difficult, but Monty and Jasper still need your help. You would need to push your heartache to one side until your friends were safe.

Hearing a rustling sound, you glanced over your shoulder. Shit. You were stupid to think it was safe to leave camp yourself. Quickly, you started to run towards camp Jaha when a cloud of thick smoke appeared around you. It wasn’t acid fog, it was something else. It was thick, red, and caused you to choke.

—

"Y/N?"

You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the harsh light. You tried to sit up but were unable to. Fuck. White leather straps covering your wrists attach you to a bed. You gave up fighting against the restrictions. You looked to your left and recognized the blonde in the bed next to you.

"Harper?"

Her hazel eyes were now bloodshot red, and her face was puffy from crying so much. "There’s no point fighting, it just makes it worse."

You took in the rest of the room. It looked like a hospital, judging by all the monitors and IV drips. "Mountain men?" Harper nodded. You looked at her worried, "What do they want with us?"

"Our bone marrow."

#the 100 #bellamy blake #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fandom #John Murphy #John Murphy x reader #John Murphy x you #Clarke Griffin #abby griffin #heda lexa #lexa the 100 #bellamy blake x reader #Bellamy Blake x you #slow romance #slow burn #harper mcintyre #Harper the 100 #mountain men #grounders

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Shmi Skywalker #Mace Windu #Quinlan Vos #Shaak Ti #time travel #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #Phoenix Answers Asks #phoenix posts #Tusken Massacre #death mention #dehumanization mention #institutionalization tw #involuntary hold tw #sedation tw #involuntary sedation tw

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star-anise · 3 years

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Thank you for your reply. My ask was kind of all over the place. (I've done some dbt before with a previous therapist and it helped! But that therapist was not a good fit I'm at a new one now tho).

Random thing, you mentioned bpd I heard in my abnormal psychology class that a lot of therapists won't treat someone diagnosed with bpd??? It was the teacher who is a grad student studying to be a therapist who said it. And like. I don't understand. They sound like a very in need population who was often abused and there's a whole huge book of treatment resources written by someone with bpd. I've heard they're "hard to treat" and talked about like they're hopeless. but like why be a mental health professional if you don't like mentally ill/different people?

This is also the same professor who insisted trauma is only the few things listed under dsm ptsd definition as traumatic events.. like she said parents getting divorced isn't a traumatic event because you aren't physically in danger... that class really scared me about the mental health field because of all the awful people in it aspiring to be therapists including the teacher.

Sorry for all the asks I love the work you do on this blog

Ahahaha, what IS it about undergrad abnormal psych professors? Mine said he wouldn't touch clinical practice with a ten-foot pole, and told a story about how once a student told him she had schizophrenia, and he knew that she was lying because obviously nobody with schizophrenia could actually manage to attend university.

(It's seriously untrue. I've had both friends and clients with psychotic disorders who succeeded in university. He was being an ableist bastard. Like, I know psych students can tend to over-identify with a disorder they're studying without actually having it, but that doesn't mean no psych student is ever entirely correct about their deal.)

Okay so, BPD. The thing about BPD is that it requires a special skillset that does not come standard in most clinical training. If a therapist who doesn't have that skillset tries to treat someone with BPD, the therapy will not be very effective and the process will be very frustrating for both them and their client. To be very frank, it's just as true that ordinary therapists are bad at treating BPD and don't like feeling stupid, as it is that people with BPD are hard to treat.

(And training to deal with people with BPD clinically is often not included in grad school education. DBT training is expensive and they won't accept you unless you have an adequate clinical placement.)

Also, part of dealing with BPD in particular is... people with BPD often have trouble seeing authority figures with anything more nuanced than "adoration and compliance" or "fear and loathing". As a therapist, you're signing up as an authority figure. Part of the work means letting your client express all their feelings about you, and helping them work to something more nuanced and sustainable, like, "I am furious and enraged that I'm in pain and I wish my therapist could take that pain away, but I realize that's not within her power. I have to admit that she's not being an evil villain here, so I can feel my resentment but let it go."

Which can be stressful to deal with, as a therapist. You have to live with a lot of hurt and anger and rage headed your way, and keep your perspective. Be empathetic without getting carried away in those emotions. You have to be able to face that pain and say, "I can't take that away. I can only help you learn to bear it."

Basically everyone I know in grad school had a nervous breakdown somewhere along the line because we go to therapist school because we're smart and capable and feel good about helping people, so when we encounter a person we can't help, or are put in situations where we have to stop helping, we tend to have existential crises and end up sobbing in the student lounge about What Am I Even Good For Now. I was lucky because I had a version of that breakdown before I entered grad school, and my therapist warned me to get a new shrink when I moved for my Master's, "Because if you don't need one at the beginning, you'll definitely need one by the end." So I was more equipped to help classmates for whom this was a wholly new experience.

In my opinion, the healthy way to approach the problem of A Person You're Not Good At Helping is to practice humility, set reasonable boundaries, recognize the limits of your competence, and see where you can learn and grow. But many therapists and helping professionals use what I consider to be an unhealthy approach, labelling such clients as "defensive" and "resistant" and "hard to treat" and blaming them for the difficulty.

Which like, I get that "practicing humility" is like "doing exercise", sometimes you're tired and cranky and don't want to go for a run. Sometimes you just want to blame the other person for not accepting your magnanimous help.

Anyway, within the field of mental health psychotherapy, complex trauma is a unique sub-speciality that many therapists don't want to touch at all. I had many classmates say, "Woof, you're into complex trauma? You must be so tough, I could never." 🙄

(Technically I have the ethical obligation to represent my profession in the best possible light to encourage public confidence in the field of psychotherapy. But I think it's not undermining the profession to admit what everyone already knows, which is that some therapists are oblivious assholes who do bad work. I've seen it, I've met them, I want them to piss off forever. Jordan Peterson is a blight to our names and Phil McGraw can go choke.)

So people who are on your wavelength about BPD and trauma and What Therapists Are For are out there. They're just a little rarer than the usual run of therapists. For what it's worth, I've found they cluster more in areas like complex trauma, DBT, Narrative Therapy, and the Hearing Voices Movement. Next year (knock on wood) I'l be going to a conference on the treatment of complex trauma with a friend, and this sounds weird given that it's a weekend all about child maltreatment, but I expect it to be a blast, because I'll get to be among My People, talking about the work that fills our souls.

I really wish that as an undergrad, I'd spent more time hanging out with Social Work students, and going to conferences and trainings. Those are where I met some of the coolest people I really clicked with. And in grad school, I had the extreme pleasure of meeting other people who were a lot like me. Those friendships were especially rewarding because as skilled helpers, we ended up playing a game of Needs Chicken, where each tries hide their own needs and caretake for the other, which finally ended up in a standoff where we had to agree to put down our caretaking skills and just be honest about what we wanted, even if that felt new and scary and raw.

(Support me: Patreon and Paypal.)

#therapisting #advice about therapisting #borderline personality disorder #ableism tw #long post

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k3lynn · 4 years

Text

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

I’m going to kill him.

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years

Text

Again

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Warnings: Notes of depression and suicidal thoughts but nothing explicitly mentioned

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five Hargreeves seems to have his heart taken by a mysterious girl who has spent a lot of time with him in a future that he’s trying desperately to erase.

Author’s Note: My first TUA work and so kinda excited for it. Will there be a part two?? Undecided for now must most probably not.

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee

“Hello?” Five called out as he walked closer to where the heaps of his findings had fallen down. The dust cloud was making it difficult to see but as soon as it settled, he sighed.

‘Of course.’ Why did he even expect to find anyone?

But then another pile fell down and he knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. He ran over the coincidence fallen debris to find you hiding behind it, looking dehydrated and in tears.

His eyes widened when they landed on the burns on your body, finding it amazing that you even managed to survive them.

But compared to the others, you got off easy.

“Hello?”

The whole while you had been staring at him but it was only when he spoke it felt like you were actually looking at him.

Immediately, you got to your feet, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you threw your arms around him. He instinctively caught your form as it collided with his, holding you close as you buried your head into his neck, sobbing.

“I’m so glad you found me.”

****

Allison noticed the way Five looked longingly across the street. At first, she thought he was just staring lovingly at the cafe because he needed a shot of espresso but she quickly noticed that his eyes were locked on the tables outside the little coffee shop.

In a table right underneath the shade of a parasol, sat you alongside your older sister, just enjoying a drink and chatting very animatedly. She looked between the two of you a couple of times, wondering which one of you Five was staring at but ultimately deciding that it wasn’t important.

“Five?”

“Hmm?” He answered distractedly, not shifting his gaze to his sister and continuing to watch you. Seeing you smile so brightly had a small smile coming to his face but no matter who saw it there was a touch of despair and sadness behind it.

“Do you know her?”

“Not....yet.”

She turned back to the table, watching you drink whatever you had in your cup and wondered what Five meant by that. Were you someone who survived the Apocalypse?

“Yes.”

“Oh, I said that out loud?”

“She’s the sole survivor of the Apocalypse.”

It was as though you could hear them talking about you even though they had the distance of a busy road between the two of you, but you looked up and locked eyes with him, holding your gaze curiously.

He continued to look at you with an unreadable emotion and time slowed down. The noises around Five slowly faded into cotton and the people faded into wisps of sweet-scented smoke.

And then suddenly like as if someone crashed through a window, he heard a glass smash and the trance was broken. You turned back to your sister, only sparing small glances back at him to see if this mysterious stranger was still watching you.

“Five? You okay, buddy?”

He sighed, now knowing that you really couldn’t recognize him and so he turned his back to you, disappointed, to meet his sibling’s concerned eyes.

“I’m not sure.”

****

You cuddled closer to five, watching the fire flicker and trying to stop shivering. He sighed exasperatedly and you knew he was angry with you but you really couldn’t care less about how he felt while your teeth chattered and you shook like a chihuahua.

“I know you’re upset with me because I made us stop but it’s not like we have a deadline or something. It’s just the two of us, we can do things as slowly as we want to.” You told him, trying to relax but something in the back of your mind wasn’t settling right.

You hated being alone with him. You hated being the only 2 people on the planet. Your heart yearned for something else.

“Dammit, (Y/N), we can’t just sit around and do nothing!” He snapped, throwing the last piece of kindling into the fire and a few of the embers jumped out.

“Why not! It’s not like we have anything to live for here anyway! We should just end it now!” You shouted in his face, feeling a wave of tears grow. You missed your normal life, you missed your family, your parents and people.

You missed it all.

“I won’t die like this! I will find a way to stop the Apocalypse even if it kills me! I will fight for it!” It seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than you but all you felt was a weight on your heart and you broke down into tears, hiding your face from Five who immediately felt guilty.

“I can’t fight anymore, Five. There’s nothing waiting for us at the end of the line, I can’t do this anymore, Five, I can’t.” You sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms and you cried into his chest while he rubbed gentle strokes up and down your back while you choked over your own breath. He felt his own tears prick in the corner of his eyes.

“We’ll change it all, there has to be something, (Y/N), there just has to.”

****

“Five are you okay?” Came a concerned voice from one of his brothers but the younger boy (physically) couldn’t tell which one it was. He was far too lost in his own thoughts.

“Five?” Allison called out again, shaking her little brother’s (again, physically) shoulder and he snapped out of his trance, only realizing then he had overfilled his cup of coffee and spilled it everywhere.

“Oh.” He muttered quietly before getting a rag to clean it up.

Above his head, Allison and Klaus shared a concerned look and had a mental conversation about whether they should ask Five what was bothering him. It was likely he would just talk about equations and tell them they didn’t have the capacity to understand it.

But this seemed different to his usual ‘I’m superior than you and incredibly stressed about this Apocalypse’ silence. So, against their better judgement they decided to ask Five about it.

“Five is everything okay? You’ve been acting weird ever since the coffee shop.”

“Oh, coffee shop? What happened at the coffee shop? Was there another gun fight?” Asked Klaus excitedly and Allison spared him an eye-roll before sitting down.

“No, he saw a girl and well, he did that.” She explained, pointing to Five where he stood just holding a rag in his hands and not even bothering to wipe up the mess he made.

“Oh, well I can fix that no problem.” Klaus said, sliding off the table and onto one of the chairs, “You see, baby brother, when a boy comes to the age of puberty—”

“Shut up!” Ben snapped from behind him and Allison slapped the back of his head but Klaus clearly saw the smile on her face before she glared at him.

“Five seriously, what’s wrong? Who was that girl?”

“She—” His voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat, “She’s nobody.”

“Not yet.” She pressed and he sighed before abandoning the rag and sitting in front of them. The older siblings immediately noticed the way he was playing with his tie, fidgeting in a way that was very unlike him.

“You said she survived the Apocalypse. So, the two of you obviously met.”

“Yeah, we did.” He spoke softly, still fidgeting with his collar and not meeting their eyes.

“And I’m assuming she’s important to you somehow?”

He sighed, leaving his collar and from his palm fell out the pendant of the necklace hung around his neck. Although from a closer look, it was a pendant as much as a—

The three of them gasped, “Five, she is not.”

He nodded sadly, hand going back to the wedding band strung on a chain around his neck.

****

“Do you think it’s legal?”

“We’re pretty much the only people here so I’m assuming it is.”

“Don’t we need witnesses or something?”

“That’s a stupid old law, made my stupid old folks that aren’t alive anymore.” He said, smiling gently as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You gave him a teasing smile, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face.

You couldn’t help the giggles when he reached down to kiss you gently. It was infectious apparently because Five couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face either as he leaned closer, making your back curve.

“I like the way you think, Mr. Hargreeves.”

“I like the way you kiss, Mrs. Hargreeves.”

You chortled and burst into laughter as did he. It was one of the happiest moments since you both found each other and moments like these were as rare as they came, when the two of you were just laughing in each other’s arms like carefree people.

Of course, you couldn’t have a big fancy wedding with your family and go for a fancy honeymoon, but this wedding gave you something that you had wanted ever since the Apocalypse.

A family.

****

Allison, Klaus and Ben all noticed the way that Five smiled when he thought about you. They noticed the gentleness in his voice and how wistful it became all of a sudden as he told them about you.

Allison grinned at him, feeling incredibly relieved that her brother had somebody to hold him while he had suffered through the apocalypse. Hearing the story of how he survived so many years all alone really broke her heart.

She always knew that she had a rough childhood without the love of a real father, but hearing Five’s story made her feel like she had it easy. At least she had civilization around her.

But even with the relief she felt it was ridiculously incredulous that her brother who couldn’t even drive legally yet was legally married. It was too much to even process and a part of her is reminded of when her daughter told her that she married Elmo.

But the longer she watched Five the more convinced she grew. He actually married you and lived a long life by your side before he came here to stop the Apocalypse.

“Wait...” She spoke up, realization hitting her, “Five, if the two of you met because of the Apocalypse, if you stop it...” She stopped herself from saying the rest, seeing his face fall. Klaus gasped softly from beside them, understanding what Allison was trying to say.

It seemed like Five was trying to gather himself and both siblings say the way he swallowed painfully and the way his mouth quivered for just a second.

“I know.”

****

“I want you to do this, Five.” You told your husband, holding onto him tighter and burying your face into his neck and trying to hide your tears from him.

His arms looped around your waist and he pressed kisses to your shoulder, cradling your head gently. You heard his breath stutter by your ear and tightened your hold on him.

“I won’t leave you.” He said firmly and you sighed but didn’t move from his hold. He was firm on that decision since he married you, giving up on his search to find the correct equation, promising that he wouldn’t abandon you.

But you knew what lied in his heart. His love for his siblings, the guilt for not doing anything to save them and him spending hours awake while you were asleep just wondering what it would have been like had he done something.

“You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t do this.” You murmured and his body shook a little from trying to hold in his sobs.

“I can’t leave you.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling away to cup his cheeks and you wiped a few of his stray tears away. You knew it must have been tearing him up inside if he was crying and it hurt but you also knew that he needed to hear this.

“It’s okay, I’m happy that we had our time together. I’m so unbelievably happy to have met you, Five, but I know that this is something you need to do.” You told him earnestly, still wiping tears from his cheeks.

“I love you.” He whispered so gently because he was sure his voice would crack.

“I love you too.” The tears running down your cheeks was in contrast to the sad smile on your face as you pulled him in for a hug.

It was after that he began his search to find the right equation again and it was admirable to see him work so hard but also heart-breaking because you knew when he would find the right one the two of you would be separated.

But still you encouraged him and supported him, knowing that in another world, the two of you could have possibly been happier had the Apocalypse not taken place.

It hurt, but at the same time, you wanted it to happen, which broke your heart even more.

And somewhere deep down you hoped that you would meet Five in another life and love him again.

You really hoped.

****

You sat quietly in the corner of the booth with earphones plugged in and reading a book with your favourite drink sitting on the table in front of you. You were so immersed in the book that you didn’t hear the boy in front of you until he tapped on the table politely.

Pulling out an earphone, you looked up to see a boy about your age with a charming smile and a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Hi, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Of course not.” You smiled, moving your bag off the table so he could sit comfortably.

“I’m Five.” He said, holding his hand out for you to shake and you nodded.

“That’s a pretty unusual name, I’m (Y/N).”

He smiled in a mysterious yet adorable way and you couldn’t help but feel that there was a reason he sat down. One you would find out extremely later but for now it was enticing and curious which attracted you to him even more.

“Nice to meet you.”

‘Again.’

#five hargreeves #five x reader #umbrella academy five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x you #five x y/n #5 x reader #5 hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #tua five #tua x reader #tua five x reader #aidan gallagher #reader insert #Female reader

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

hii, it's the unsent project anon again!! sometimes i think about steve. instead of going back in time for yk, he goes back in time to see his mother again. and has a dance with his mother because he never got to before for several reasons. it would be more rocking from foot to foot than anything else. and steve can barely see through his clumped up lashes from the tears while she strokes the side of his head before cradling it (its a bit of a stretch because he is all big and healthy now) while muttering, "my stevie, my boy" and steve just grins "it's me, ma".

(he would come back after spending some time with her, with a heavy heart but still)

was thinking about this at like 3 in the morning

anon i genuinely think you're trying to murder me lakjdflksjfaskdjflksf

anyway i wrote another fic

There are extra white jackets in the back closet, and Steve steals one that’s approximately his size, despite the shoulders being a bit too tight. Pants are a little harder to come by, but he manages to find a pair that look like they’ll fit him in some poor chap’s locker. He tugs them on, grimacing at the way they hug his thighs and fall only to his ankles. They’ll have to do.

He’d already scoped out the hospital the night before-- he knows she’s on the third floor in a private ward. Good, he thinks. She deserves it, if nothing else.

He is focused as he moves through the halls, head down as he passes other nurses. There’s a clipboard discarded on a table near the children’s ward and he swiftly picks it up, squinting at it. He doesn’t process any of the words on the page, but his act seems sound, because nobody stops him.

He makes it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, pushes open the door and takes the steps two at a time. The smell is one that is achingly familiar-- the walls grey and hazy. The air seems thicker, the lights yellow and dim. And though he’s been removed from the past for over a decade, it still feels like home. Like normal. His normal.

But he does not belong anymore, and he will not stay. He’s already been a ghost once. He’s hesitant to be one again.

Especially now, when he is out there somewhere. Most likely in the shitty tenement he shared with Bucky, but also possibly at the grocer he worked at, his ma’s telegram in his pocket. Savoring the bits of her that he could salvage with the knowledge he’d never see her again, even while she’s alive.

Closure has been something Steve always felt he lacked. But he’s seen hell now-- lived in its fiery pits for more years than he can count. He can take some goddamn closure for himself.

The third floor is nearly vacant. No one is in the hallway when Steve steps out of the stairwell, but he can hear voices in the rooms that line the sides. Coughs echo ominously off the walls, and Steve’s toes curl in his shoes, a brief wave of anxiety washing over him. He hadn’t missed these hospitals, and he’d hoped to never deliberately step foot in one again. But this is necessary. This is worth it.

He walks swiftly towards the end of the hall where the private wards are and stops in front of the first room. The name next to the door is incorrect, so he continues on until he sees it, heart stopping in his chest, then speeding up enough to make his lungs tighten.

Sarah Rogers-- TB. Alternative uniform required.

Steve closes his eyes against the blood rushing from his head. He wants to tell himself it’s been so long since he’s felt this detached from reality-- this out of place in a space that should feel so familiar-- but it hasn’t. The feeling, he’s realizing, never truly left him when he woke up from the ice, and the reverse here is strange.

And there’s something even stranger about reconciling this, because he’d lost his ma far before he’d ever died. This grief is an old wound-- one that’s scabbed over only to bleed circumstantially. He’d grown used to living with this particular, bone deep pain. He isn’t sure if he’s here to lance that, or if he’ll walk away with a deeper wound. He isn’t sure it matters, either.

He pushes open the door.

The room is lit with natural light. There is a desk with a vase and a water pitcher on it, along with a few medicine bottles and a tissue box. The bed is pressed against the far wall, the covers barely disturbed save for the frail figure that lies in it.

Sarah turns her head and looks at Steve.

Steve’s world stops.

He hadn’t seen his ma when she was this ill. His last memories of her are of when she was healthy-- cheeks red and full of life, eyes alight with an optimism he still valiantly tries to uphold. Life had not been kind to Sarah Rogers, but she was the kindest soul Steve had ever known, even in the shadow of his father’s violence.

Is, he corrects himself as he looks at her. She is the kindest soul. She’s there. She’s right there.

She’s right there, and she looks weak. She is gaunt and frail, eyes sunken in and cheekbones sharp against papery looking skin. There’s an exhaustion in the lines of her young face that Steve recognizes as the long standing effects of illness-- your body praying to be done fighting while your mind begs otherwise.

Steve resists the urge to turn and run.

Sarah’s face does something strange as she looks at Steve, and he realizes that he’s been standing there for longer than would be normal for a nurse-- shell shocked and silent. She opens her mouth to say something, then stops, eyes widening as she seems to process what she’s looking at. Or who she’s looking at, most likely.

A wizened hand comes up to cover her mouth and she gasps, fear flashing through her eyes and no, no, no--

Fuck, he’d thought of this. He’d had a fucking plan for this, but he can’t remember it now and he really doesn’t want his ma calling security on him, because he has so much to say, and--

“Ma,” he says frantically, taking an aborted step forward. She shies away and he stops, hands flexing at his sides. “Ma, it’s me. I swear it’s me, I can explain.”

Sarah looks suddenly furious. “This is not funny, young man. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this instant.”

Fuck, her voice. Her goddamn voice, as weak as it is now, still has the same strong cadence. The subtle Irish twang. And fuck, Steve can’t help it. He bursts into tears.

“Fuck,” he says, falling to his knees. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could stomach the weight of everything that’s happened since he last saw her-- handle standing in front of her with blood on his hands, underneath his fingernails. In his goddamn soul. What would she even think of him now?

He sobs, biting down on a knuckle to keep silent, his other arm going around his stomach. It’s how he used to cry when he was much younger, and more frantic, and that seems to convince Sarah more than anything.

“Steven?” she says. She sounds incredulous. Damnit, she probably thinks she’s hallucinating. Steve had hallucinated a couple times when he was ill enough and his fever was high. Mostly his father, but he’ll digress.

He looks up, and he can barely see her through the tears that clump on his eyelashes. Sarah’s face does something complicated, then softens, and she reaches out a hand. Steve looks at it and sobs harder.

“Oh, Stevie. My boy, come here,” she says, because maybe he is a goddamn hallucination, but her instinct was always to comfort those in pain. She was a nurse, after all.

Steve is goddamn helpless.

He manages to get to her bedside, chest heaving as he buries his face in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s me, ma. I promise it’s me. I can explain, I swear.”

“I don’t doubt that you can explain,” Sarah says sternly, and fuck, he’d missed her chastising him. He can’t help it, he laughs, breathless and watery. “What happened to you? Why are you--” Big. Healthy. “Steven, you can’t be in here. I’m highly contagious.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I can’t get sick.” And oh, his accent is back. He hasn’t had one in years. Decades. A goddamn century.

Sarah lets out a strangled laugh that quickly turns into coughing, and Steve briefly wonders how close she is to death. She died in Winter, and it is sometime in Fall right now. Close then, he thinks. He hugs her harder as the coughing dies down.

“A stór, do you hear yourself? You had pneumonia last Summer.”

Summer. Last Summer. In this world, it had only been a mere few months without her. A fresh wave of grief washes over Steve, and then he can’t help another laugh, then another, and suddenly he’s cracking up into her stomach. Laughing like the insane man he feels he often is.

Sarah freezes, then reaches out to lift his face, their eyes meeting. His laughing stops. She gasps again.

“It really is you,” she murmurs, thumbs moving to the outside corners of his eyes, where there are two identical freckles. Little stars, she used to call them.

Steve offers her a brave smile. “Yeah, ma. It is.”

Sarah shakes her head. “What happened?” she asks again.

“I… so much,” Steve breathes. “I don’t know how to explain it all. I-- I don’t know where to start, but god, I just wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

Sarah studies his face. “You’re so tired,” she says, thumb stroking his eye again. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. His lip trembles.

“So tired,” he agrees.

“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Sarah says. “I’m not sure I want to know. But I just… Steven, you look so different.”

Steve laughs, wiping at his eyes. “In a few years, there’s a war,” he says. Blunt-- they’d always been so straightforward with each other. “A scientist-- god, please don’t be mad-- a scientist offered, or… offers? Offered me an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Of course you did,” Sarah murmurs, looking fond and angry despite. She seems to set that train of thought aside. “Germany?” and oh, right. It’s already been in the news, the new reign.

“Yeah.”

Sarah hums. “My dear, you look like you’ve seen more than just war.”

Just war. As if any war was just anything.

As if his war ever truly stopped.

He casts his gaze down.

“Yeah,” he says again, and he thinks of Bucky, who’s also yet to come home from the war. Bucky, who is probably somewhere at the docks right now, untouched by anything but insecurity and financial hell. He desperately wishes they both can soon. This visit, he hopes, will bring him one step closer.

Sarah must read his mind, because her face clouds over.

“Bucky…?”

“Survives,” Steve says quickly, then backtracks. “Kind of. We both kind of died, then came back to life in the future and--” Sarah looks horrified now, and Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s alive. We’re together.”

“Alright,” Sarah says slowly. “As long as you’re together.”

Steve nods, and fuck, he wishes he could have brought Bucky, too. Sam as well-- showed his ma his new friends. The brave new family he’s made for himself. The thought has his eyes swimming again, and he screws up his face, trying not to cry. He’s a goddamn mess. It’s ridiculous.

“I must admit, I’m quite confused,” Sarah says. “And sweetheart, you’re not talking.”

Steve shakes his head, and her arms come around him. He melts into the hold-- savors the feeling. Memorizes the pressure, her smell, and pockets it away for later.

“I just missed you so much is all,” he croaks. “And I-- ma… I’ve done so much. I’ve hurt so many people. Killed so many people, and I still feel so lost, and everything hurts and oh Christ, I’ve just-- I miss you.”

He had sworn to himself, before coming in, that he wouldn’t unload any of this onto her. But her warmth is all encompassing, and he craves her comfort. Her approval. Her strong, sure tone telling him everything will be okay.

That he will be okay. He has to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s not.

“Lord’s name,” Sarah murmurs, and Steve huffs another laugh. She runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I do know you, dearheart. And I know that you are a good person. A gentle person-- my gentle boy, if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen violence. But you know more than anyone how mean the world can be. You might have had to make hard decisions, done bad things, but you, Steven, are not bad.”

Steve’s lips part. It doesn’t fix everything, the words-- it barely scrapes the surface of the wall of pain and guilt that suffocates him. But for a moment, the world seems clearer. Quieter. The ache in his chest lanced for one, freeing breath.

“Ma…” Steve says. He doesn’t know how to thank her-- what to say-- because here she is, offering him warmth and closure, even though she might still think he’s nothing but a figment of her imagination. He craves her compassion; her generosity. Swears to uphold it as best he can.

You always stand up, she once told him. He will still, he thinks. He always will. And he will now.

He’ll go home to his family-- his life-- and goddamn live finally. He’s been surviving for so long, he realizes. It’s about damn time for him to stand up and live.

“You’ve still got the same heart,” Sarah continues. She pokes his freckles again. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Steve lifts a hand to cover hers. Her hands are as soft as they always were and he turns his face to kiss her knuckles, then leans forward to kiss her cheek, eyes closing as memories of doing that before running off to school or to play flash through his mind. She smells faintly of vanilla. He wonders if she still dabs it behind her ears.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, ma. I love you. I love you so much-- thank you for being there for me. For raising me, and loving me.”

Sarah hugs him. Outside the room, there are voices; shuffling. He needs to go. The window is open, and they’re only three floors up.

“Loving you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done,” Sarah says. She looks at the door. The voices are closer now. She kisses his forehead. Another echo of a life long gone. “Go now, Steven. Go home.”

Steve looks at her one last time, drinking in the love in her eyes. And as he climbs out the window, the too-tight doctor’s coat ripping around the shoulder seams, he can’t help but think that he’d gotten her eyes right whenever he’d painted her.

Her love won’t be something so easily forgotten.

Bucky catches him before he can collapse as he reappears on the launch pad. He lowers them to the ground, cradling Steve’s head with and letting him practically climb into his lap as he weeps, overwhelmed.

After a few minutes, he pulls back. Bucky’s watching him, concerned, and Steve leans in to gently kiss him.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, wary as they pull apart. He reaches out to swipe some tears off Steve’s cheeks.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he says. “All the stones are back-- everything’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Relief washes over Bucky’s face and he kisses Steve, smiling. “Oh god,” he murmurs. “Thank god.”

Steve wraps his arms around his neck, humming in agreement. Sam and Bruce are somewhere-- Steve can hear them talking-- but it’s distant.

They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in each other. Bucky’s arms feel so goddamn safe that Steve feels his resolve slipping again. He can tell Bucky things. He can be here with him now. Home.

“I went to see her,” he whispers.

Bucky stills where he was previously rocking them lightly.

“Her…” Bucky says, then shifts. “Your ma?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Bucky squeezes him tighter. “How-- how was that? How did she…”

“She was confused. I don’t even know if she knew I was real.”

Bucky pauses, then kisses behind his ear. Steve thinks of vanilla again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs.

“No, it was-- good. Needed. I feel… good.”

“That’s so good, honey.”

“She asked about you-- wanted to know if you were, um, alive. I told her you were.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s a small smile on his face now. Bucky had loved Sarah as if she were another mother, and Steve had done the same with Winnifred. It was a privilege to have had both of their protective arms. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘as long as we’re together’.”

Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve wants to reach out and touch, so he does, because he can do that now. Bucky is tangible. He is here.

“She’s got a point,” Bucky says. He goes back to rocking them and Steve rests his head on his shoulder. He hears Bucky start to say something, then stop.

“What?” he asks, pulling back.

Bucky studies him. “Did you want to stay?” It isn’t accusatory, just curious, and Steve considers it.

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Just… instinctively. It’s an opportunity I might have taken up if someone offered it ten years ago, but… I’m a ghost there now, like I was a ghost here, and I don’t want to do that again.” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to.”

Bucky nods, cupping Steve’s cheek and thumbing his jaw affectionately. “I hear you,” he says. “I was just wondering.”

“And besides, my ma told me to go home before I left,” Steve said, cupping Bucky’s cheek in return. “So I did.”

Bucky smiles, and presses their foreheads together.

“We can do that now,” Bucky says. “We can go home. We can rest.”

And there are still things to do-- Steve doesn’t think there ever won’t be things to be done. But that can wait for another day.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s grungy, dirt digging in bone deep from the whirlwind of the last few weeks. He smirks, climbing off Bucky’s lap. “But I call first shower.”

Bucky snorts and stands, pulling Steve up.

“Yeah, whatever, asshole.”

Yeah. The world can wait another day.

There’s a bottle of vanilla in the spice cabinet. Steve sees it as he’s looking for the cinnamon. The kitchen is empty, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s not alone.

He takes the vanilla out and dabs some onto his fingers, gently rubbing it behind his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the smell wash over him. He can still feel his ma’s arms around him, keeping him warm.

Home. He’s home.

thanks for reading yall aflkdjflaksjdf

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #post endgame #i swore to myself i wouldnt write an endgame fix it but here i am i guess #stucky fic #sarah rogers #my queen #my love #i love her #oop

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yslkook · 3 years

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rear view (5)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: sora sets you up on a blind date, and the night ends up being an enjoyable, pleasant surprise. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Then fifteen minutes. Then twenty-five. The waitress has come by twice already, giving you a look of sympathy when you sigh and give up on waiting.

He’s not coming, you realize with a sigh. You check your phone for any messages from him for the millionth time in ten minutes, only to see that you have no notifications waiting to be opened.

So you were really stood up. But maybe something came up? An emergency, maybe? You give him the benefit of the doubt until he has the opportunity to explain himself. But truly, you’re already over the excitement of a first date. A blind first date. You’re already over daydreaming over the potential of him.

Instead, your heart aches over the rejection. Perhaps there was no emergency. Perhaps it was you.

You leave the restaurant in a hurry, tipping the waitress despite not ordering anything except for a glass of water (that you hadn’t even finished). You leave before you can spiral through your thoughts in such a public place, knowing that tears are already pricking at the back of your eyes.

You walk aimlessly through the familiar streets of the city with blurry eyes. It was silly of you to get your hopes up over the mere idea of possibility. You had enough self-respect to know that he had done you so wrong, but it still didn’t soothe the hurt.

You never put yourself out there, not really. But when you do, this is what happens. You get stood up. It doesn’t help that the man you actually wanted to go on a date with had pulled away from you a little bit in the last few days.

This is just a distraction. From your own sad, frustrated heart. Frustration of yourself, mainly, for not really going after what you truly want.

Such is life. In a few hours, you’ll be okay. You know you’ll get over it soon. But for now, you just want to wallow in your self-deprecating thoughts.

Wallowing in your self-deprecating thoughts led you to a bar with dim lights and only a few patrons in it. It also led you into having exactly two shots and two drinks, resulting in your present tipsy state.

You’re alone and you could drop your head to the bartop and just cry and cry and cry. In some corner of your mind, you knew this was a bad idea.

Truly, it was not one of your best ideas.

You contemplate calling a friend to come pick you up, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t want to talk to anyone. Or so you’ve convinced yourself.

Even the bartender looks at you like you’re pathetic. Maybe you are.

You start to cry despite your best efforts to hold it in, vaguely aware that your perfectly done mascara is streaking down your face in dark rivulets. The bartender looks alarmed and asks if there is anyone you can call.

You’re about to sob again and say no, there’s nobody. In your narrow mind, there is nobody, nobody who wants you-

But then your phone rings. And it’s Jungkook.

“H-hello,” You mumble, hoping your voice sounds more sober than you actually are.

“Why’d you pick up? Aren’t you on a date?” Jungkook asks, something teasing with an undercurrent of concern in his tone.

“I mean, I was…” You reply, desperately focusing your gaze on the edge of the bartop. As if that’ll keep your voice from breaking.

“No second date? He couldn’t get it up? Bet the guy couldn’t tell his head from his ass, huh-”

“He didn’t show up, Jungkook,” You say sharply, having possibly the first moment of clarity you’ve had all night, “He didn’t fucking show up, he didn’t text or call me, and now I’m drinking at a bar by myself.”

There’s a pause and then a dry laugh that pulls a watery laugh from you, too.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Where are you? Let’s get drunk together then, baby.”

“Y’know what,” You slur, “I don’ care! I don’ give a sing- singular fuck-” You hiccup and glare at Jungkook, who is sitting next to you with amused eyes, not nearly as drunk as you are.

“Okay, party animal. Is that so?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow and pushes your glass of water closer to you.

He’s so close to you that you can smell his cologne and feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket. His piercings glint with the dim light of the bar, but he looks as ethereal and demonic as ever.

You think his eyes flash red for a minute. You must be really drunk.

“Hell yeah,” You mutter, “Fuck that guy. Nobody ever wants what ‘m selling a-and I even waxed for this-”

Jungkook knows you’re good and drunk because you hardly ever open yourself up like this. At least in front of him. He’s never seen you so open, not even with your own mutual friends. It’s nice to see you with your guard down.

He wants what you’re selling, but that’s a conversation for later.

“Why didn’t you call Sora?” Jungkook asks bluntly, “Your annoying as fuck best friend would’ve come to pick you up, right?”

After all, she was the one who masterminded this entire disaster. Even if he was pouting over the fact that you were going on a date with someone who wasn’t him, he’s more concerned over the fact that you hadn’t even wanted to go. And yet, you still went because of some weird obligation you felt you owed Sora and this stranger.

It makes Jungkook’s chest burn.

Your face immediately falls and you take a large sip of your water, “She’s not around. She went to her parent’s place for the weekend.”

“Yoongi? Hoseok?” Jungkook sighs, “Who else would you fuckin’ call, baby?”

“You called,” You say quietly, looking up at him with swirling soft, dark eyes, “Besides, I just wanted to... sulk for a bit.”

Jungkook hates when you look at him like that. As if he has the answers to the entire universe, to the meaning of life. It makes him feel vulnerable, like you’re staring directly into his heart. He doesn’t know how Yunho could ever have stood you up- when you’d probably look at him the same way.

He doesn’t know how Yunho could ever have stood you up, when you look so pretty. Clearly, you had dressed up for the loser- your eyes bright and pretty against your makeup, your dark green blouse neatly tucked into your dark wash jeans and your oversized coat sitting pretty on your shoulders. Your lips are painted red and pulled into a pretty pout as you chew on your bottom lip. Thin, gold chains sit around your neck.

It annoys him. Annoys him that some asshole stood you up. Annoys him that some asshole hurt your feelings enough for you to find a friend in alcohol this way. Annoys him that your lips are about to bleed-

“Stop that,” Jungkook scolds lightly. You look at him in confusion and before you can say anything, he gently pulls your bottom lip out of the enamel cage of your teeth. Your breath hitches at his touch, heart immediately accelerating. “You’ll make your lips fuckin’ bleed. Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, you take a swig of your water and avoid his intense gaze. Jungkook has always somewhat intimidated you, from when you had first met him (barely as acquaintances, when Hoseok had cheerily introduced you both) to now.

It’s not the piercings, the all black and the tattoos visible on his knuckles, his forearms, and the peek of ink on his neck. It’s his entire presence- he’s always felt so larger than life to you that he overwhelms you sometimes. Drives you to the point of silence, like now.

You’ve always been a little envious of him through the years (even from just being friends with him on the periphery) if you’re being completely honest. If he wants something, he just goes and gets it. And then there’s you- deliberating and contemplating every possible outcome before ultimately (likely) convincing yourself out of whatever it is. Especially if it proves to be an inconvenience to anyone around you.

“Who was the fucker anyway?” Jungkook asks abruptly, tearing you from your train of thought.

“Huh?”

“The asshole who made you cry,” Jungkook says breezily.

“Oh, uh. Yunho, he’s a friend of a friend of Sora’s,” You croak weakly with a feeble smile, “But it’s okay, I mean, I’m sure there’s a reason-”

“Don’t do that,” Jungkook hisses, eyes flashing once more at you, “Don’t make excuses for an asshole treating you disrespectfully. You can say he’s an asshole, you can tell him to fuck off. Did you even want to go?”

“I-I don’t know,” You say with wide eyes and a nod, “He’s an asshole and he can fuck all the way off, so far off that his head gets stuck up his ass-”

Jungkook lets out an airy chuckle, a smile that fills up his entire face and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Good girl,” Jungkook mutters, shuffling a little closer to you, “And if I ever see him around, I’ll kick his ass, baby. Don’t worry about a damn thing.

“Besides,” Jungkook nearly purrs, his tattooed hand dangerously close to your thigh but his fingers float upwards to dance over your chin, “You’re brilliant and pretty. It’s his loss. I don’t think you really wanted to see him anyway.”

You wish you could have said something suave to match his dark, balmy charm, but instead you just choke on your water and Jungkook laughs at you.

Jungkook’s only fatal flaw (in his humble opinion, at least) is that he’ll never say no or that he’ll never back down from a challenge. Much less a challenge from you.

Which is exactly why, about an hour later, he’s three shots and two drinks deep into an impromptu drink-off that you’ve challenged him to. The apples of his cheeks are flushed and your laughs are wild and uninhibited.

Your words are slurred, questions and answers spilling off of your tongue in a drunken haze. But you look so happy, you sound so much happier than you did when he had called you. Your cheeks ache from how much you smile and drunkenly giggle around him, and he always wants to see you like this.

Jungkook can recognize that much even through his own drunkenness. Your eyes are crinkled in mirth at something he’s said (he’s probably making fun of you), hands playfully shoving his shoulder.

He catches your hand easily- he’s tempted to thread his fingers through yours, if only to see the flustered look on your face and to see your reaction. What Jungkook wants, he gets.

So he pushes his fingers between the small spaces of yours, watching carefully for your soft gasp and the widening of your dark eyes. He grins at you, before pulling his hand away. It’s like a shock to the system, as if you’ve been doused with cold water.

“Whattsa matter?” Jungkook teases but you only level him with a glare.

“Don’t hold my hand,” You say sternly (as sternly as you can while being absolutely intoxicated) with furrowed brows, “If you don’t mean it, don’t hold my hand.”

“And who said I didn’t mean it, pretty girl?”

You hide your face from him yet again by taking another hearty swig of your drink, trying to ignore the burning in your face. You quickly change the topic, shifting a few inches further from him to create space.

Jungkook only laughs at how easy it is to fluster you.

Jungkook keeps his arm tight around your shoulders as you both walk through the now thinning streets of the city. It’s not as crowded as it was a few hours ago, but you’re clumsy and drunk.

He’s wary of people’s gazes on him and on you. You don’t seem to notice it, but he does. Jungkook always does- people are so quick to judge. Can’t seem to mind their own business.

But it doesn’t bother him, especially not when you feel as warm as you do against him.

You’re rambling about something- he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you speak this much ever- when you nearly trip on a misaligned edge of the sidewalk. But Jungkook catches you with a strong arm around your waist and scoffs at you.

“So fucking clumsy,” He rolls his eyes and you ignore him.

“You gonna tell Sora that her date was a dickhead with a micropenis,” Jungkook asks bluntly. You laugh (really, it sounds like a snort).

“That’s mean,” You mutter, “I can’t confirm or deny that claim. I guess I’ll text her later tonight…”

The truth was, Jungkook knew of Yunho. He was all stiff suits, slicked back hair, polite, prim and proper with a disgusting self-satisfied smirk that seemed to always be on his irritating face. The kind of guy with a five, ten, fifteen year plan. Probably a trust fund baby with retirement funds already squared away. Every single small thing planned out, right down to the detail with no room for veering off of the path.

It makes Jungkook question Sora’s agenda when it comes to you. Can your supposed best friend not know you to this degree?

Everything that makes Jungkook roll his eyes. Initially, he would’ve thought that that was your type. The kind of person that checks all of the boxes on paper. But he’s beginning to realize that maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thought.

Why would Sora set you up with someone who stood you up?

If he had been quietly seething when he heard from Hoseok and Yoongi that Sora had set this date doomed to fail up for you, that was his business. Jimin and Taehyung took pity on him (after a few minutes of making fun of him), and had suggested he call you. He almost felt like Sora was doing this to spite him- ever since she caught him checking you out all those months ago, she’s had it out for him.

God, he hates her. Hates her judgemental eyes, the way she sticks her nose where she doesn’t belong. The way she makes you feel so small and manipulates you into her own bidding, and you don’t even realize it. He wishes you would.

All Jungkook knows is that he likes your smile, he likes hearing the intonations of your voice, and he likes the way your legs look in that one skirt he had seen you wear when he had seen you with Yoongi and Hoseok.

All he knows is that he likes you the most like this- your guard down, your eyes wide and shining at him. He can pretend that your eyes shine for him, for now.

After all, as Sora had so eloquently screamed at him- you’d never go for a guy like him. So he’s content with this.

But you surprise him when you gently ask him to come upstairs to your apartment once he walks you home. You tell him that it’s late, that he’s welcome to stay the night on your couch if he wants to.

(You nervously stammer a few times and scratch the back of your neck bashfully, but the offer is there.)

In the end, Jungkook declines, not wanting to cross a line with you that hardly exists. You tilt your head to the side in confusion with a slight pout but nod in understanding.

“Then wait here until your Uber arrives,” You say, handing him a glass of water.

So he does, toeing his shoes off as you welcome him inside. If Jungkook notices your nerves (you genuinely can’t remember the last time you had a man who wasn’t Yoongi or Hobi in your apartment), he says nothing. But he notices your not so sly glances his way, lingering on his eyes, his arms, his thighs.

Jungkook smirks to himself- he thinks your best friend knows nothing about you and what kind of person you would be into.

“Nice place,” Jungkook nods, glancing around your cozy condo.

“Thanks, I guess,” You roll your eyes and gesture for him to sit on the couch. Every inch of your apartment that he can see is covered by little notes of you in the mix of pastel and dark colors- the throw pillows, the coffee table, the television stand, the small record player that sits in the corner of your living room.

“Maybe you’ll invite me over, some other time, huh?” Jungkook murmurs. He thumbs your cheek and it takes every ounce of you to meet his hooded eyes. Your breath hitches, the sound loud in your ears, as you lean into the heat of his thumb.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, “Thank you. For hanging out with me after a shitty evening. I… I had fun.”

“I had fun, too,” Jungkook says honestly. You’re a little mesmerized by the shine and sparkle of his eyes. “We should do it again sometime, baby.”

With that, he leaves- just as he sees the flabbergasted expression on your face. It’s one he’s become accustomed to as of late. When you wave your fingers at him to say goodbye, he shoots you a wink and a smirk.

To his surprise, you blow him a kiss before closing the door in a hurry.

tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fluff

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

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I Want You To Love Me (James Potter x Reader)

PROMPT: hi, i finally did it. this is part two to tell me that you love me!

A/N: i do prefer the first part but i also enjoyed writing this.

WARNINGS: angst?

WC: 3.7K+ (sorry again)

HP MASTERLIST

i’m doing a writing challenge!

i want you to love me (j.p one shot)

“Y/N/N, let me in!”

You lifted your head from your pillow to speak into the distance separating your bed from your door, “Go away, Pads! I’m staying in.”

“You said that last weekend… and the weekend before that,” you heard Sirius groan from the hallway. He continued to bang against the wooden door, rattling the metal components of it, “We miss you, Y/N/N! Come out to Hogsmeade with us!”

“No, I want to stay in,” you yelled, falling back into the solace of your bed, “Sirius, please just go without me. I’m sure my less than happy attitude would kill the mood anyway.”

“I’d rather have the mood be killed than not have my friend with me.”

You smiled a bit at his words. Sirius always did know how to cheer you up. A part of you wanted to give in and spend the day with your friends. You did miss them terribly, as you’ve done nothing short of avoiding them for the last month. You even went so far as to switching out of the classes that you had with them. You were surprised you got permission to do so, but you had to thank your long-standing and pleasant relationships with your professors for that.

As you opened your mouth to agree to Sirius’ offer, you began to remember who else would be there— James. A month in isolation was not enough time to mend a broken heart. So you sunk back in your bed, pulling the covers up to cover your chest, and squeezed your eyes shut.

You heard Sirius sigh, disappointingly, before his footsteps echoed down the corridors. You were relieved he gave up, at least for the day. You didn’t know if James had told them about that night, you didn’t really allow yourself to be in the same space as any of the Marauders for enough time to have a conversation beyond “hi’s” and “hello’s.” Sirius was tired of it, as was Peter and Remus, but Sirius took it personally. You two have built a good friendship over the years and he didn’t know what it was that caused you to pull away from them so rapidly and so out of the blue.

He had a hunch. He figured it had something to do with James, as the boy flinched every time someone was to mention your name. Not to mention the way James had changed drastically, more subdued and mellowed out ever since the night of the party. He hasn’t chased after Lily since, and it puzzled a lot of people, Sirius especially. He had to hear about James’ incessant pining for years and all of a sudden, Lily seemed to cease to exist? Something wasn’t right.

Sirius talked about it to Remus and Peter but the two boys were just as lost as he was. Nobody knew what happened that night between you and James. And although they all had their theories, most of them being absurd, James never talked about it to anyone, nor did you. So your friends were left in the dark, wondering and guessing what on earth transpired.

It wasn't until an hour after Sirius’ supposed departure did you hear a knock on your door again. You groaned, not wanting to have this conversation twice in the same day. You sat up, “Go away, Sirius!”

Another knock.

“Padfoot,” you warned, “Go away, please!”

He seemed to ignore your rebuttals, continuing to pound harshly on your door. You closed your eyes, pushing two pillows against both of your ears to try to drown out the noise, forgetting for a second that you were a witch with the knowledge of a simple spell to do the trick. When you realized that the pillows weren’t working, nor did he show any signs of stopping, you got up from your bed and marched angrily to your door.

You swung it open, looking down at your feet. You huffed, “Sirius, I’m really not in the mood—”

It wasn’t Sirius.

James’ back was turned, evidence that he’d been pacing in front of your door after he heard your footsteps. When he heard the familiar creaking of your door opening, he turned around, an unexplainable look on his face. His eyes were brimmed red, like he’d been crying. His curls were tossed around, not neatly styled the way he always did them. James wore pajama pants and a fluffy sweater. It was unfair, really, how good he still looked even when he quite literally just rolled out of bed.

The two of you didn’t talk, not one word. You just stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence. You became so aware of how you must’ve looked— pajama pants that went past the tip of your toes, a large hoodie that you were half-sure belonged to James once, and your hair in disarray from spending the entire day and afternoon in bed. Subconsciously, you hid behind your door, trying to hide yourself from the boy who watched your every move.

The silence was deafening. It was awkward and uncomfortable. It was like neither of you knew each other anymore, like you didn’t spend years being friends or months being wrapped up in each other’s arms in the most vulnerable way. You stared at James Potter, not recognizing the man who stood in front of you.

This man was unsure of himself, not carrying himself in the confident way that James usually does. His back was hunched over like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He looked small. He had this guard up in front of him and a face that you couldn’t read. This was unusual for the both of you. You weren’t used to not knowing James.

You forced yourself to be okay with that thought as you stared him down, knowing that you had no choice but to accept that you two will be strangers to each other one day. Soon, even. But truth be told, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like not knowing him.

You gulped, starting to close the door, little by little, in hopes he wouldn’t notice. At first, he didn’t. He was too preoccupied staring at your figure, your face, your being, that he didn’t realize that the door was shutting. When James finally did, he stuck his foot in the crack, right before you could close it. He hissed at the pain, but kept his foot there, not daring to move.

“I miss you,” he finally said, breathing out every word, “And I-I won’t lie to you, I don’t know if there’s a word for what I’m feeling. I’m not even sure I fully understand it.”

James pushed the door open, letting himself walk in despite your silent protests. You walked backwards, stopping right before the back of your knees hit your bedpost. He continued to talk, looking down at his feet, distraught, “All I know is now I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop worrying about whether you’re alright or not. And I think I’m going crazy, Y/N/N.”

“James..”

“No, let me finish,” he shook his head, looking into your eyes. His eyes were clouded by tears making your breath get caught in your throat. He paced back and forth in your dormitory, “I haven’t slept in weeks because every time I close my eyes I just see you and I don’t know what it means! I’m so confused and I just— nothing makes sense anymore. I keep looking for you everywhere I go and I expect you to be there next to me and when you’re not, I just feel so empty.”

You sat down on your bed, tears flowing down your cheeks. You twiddled with your thumbs in your lap, unable to look at James who stopped his pacing and stood in front of you. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t think you had any words to say.

After his rant, James looked at you. His heart ached as he watched you retreat to yourself, cowering after every word that he said. He ran to you, ignoring the warning signs that were flashing in his mind. “Y/N,” he whispered, crouching down to be eye level with you, “Please look at me.”

You couldn’t do it. You gulped, biting your lip to stop the cries that wanted to escape. James wrapped his hands around yours, engulfing them in the familiar warmth you’ve missed in the time you were apart. He kneeled in front of you, his head hanging low. Neither of you said anything, the silence and the sounds of muffled cries bouncing off the walls of your dormitory.

James began to shake softly, his chest rising up and down as his tears began to drop onto the floor. You watched the wood under your feet become pooled with his tears. He placed his forehead on your knees, his lips kissing the fabric of the pajamas you wore to cover your legs.

“Y/N, I miss you. This month has been hell without you and the only thing that makes sense to me right now is that I need you in my life,” he sighed, lifting his head to place his chin on your lap, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“That’s not fair, James,” you sobbed, pushing him away. It took all your might not to scoop him up in your arms the minute you saw his hurt expression. You never once denied him, never once pushed him away, until now. You still couldn’t keep eye contact with him, his glossy eyes and trembling lips made you putty in his hands and for once, you wanted to put yourself first. You crossed your knees under your thighs, sitting uncomfortably on your bed, “It’s not fair that you just came in here and said all that.”

He sat in front of you, knees up to his chest. He respected your wishes and kept his distance, “Why?”

“Because I know what I’m feeling,” you stated, lips quivering. “I’m sure of what I feel and you can’t just come in here and say that you miss me without knowing what it is you feel! I don’t want to keep thinking that there’s something here when there’s not, James. It’s not fair to me.”

“How am I supposed to figure out if there’s something here if I haven't seen you in a month, Y/N?” he replied, frustrated with the lack of communication between the two of you. “I haven’t seen you for weeks! You disappeared on me. I didn’t know what to think. The only thing I could think about was how I didn’t want you gone from my life. I tried, Y/N/N. I tried so hard to talk to you but you weren’t around anymore. I asked Minnie where you’ve been and she said it wasn’t any of my business—”

“Because it isn’t,” you interrupted.

James rolled his eyes, ignoring your snarky comment, “The last time I saw you— if you even count that glance as seeing you— was when you helped bring Moony inside after the full moon. And the minute I tried to talk to you, you bolted! I felt like you didn’t want me around anymore and that killed me, Y/N/N.”

You felt a bit guilty, knowing that you did everything that he stated. You sniffled, finally getting the courage to look at him. James was staring at you intently, resting his cheek on his knee. His cheeks were squished, making him look so adorable with his red nose and messy curls. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes widening in realization.

“Merlin, you haven’t even been in the Great Hall for meals! How do you get away with that? Have you been eating?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his worried tone, not expecting that to come out of his lips. James always did have a motherly instinct when it came to you and the Marauders. He was shocked at the sound of your laughter, the worry in his eyes subsiding for a second. He missed that sound so much.

A lopsided smirk appeared on his lips. James looked at you, quirking his eyebrow. His tone changed as he spoke again, “Well?”

“Well what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, dropping your smile. You remembered why you were in this conversation in the first place.

“Have you?” he echoed, “Have you been eating?”

“I have.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. His voice never returned to his frustrated tone, as if that little moment between you two was enough to cure his broken soul. He awkwardly waddled closer to your bed, not bothering to get up as he inched to where you sat. James sent you a sad smile, “I missed you.”

“James—”

“You know,” he interrupted, ignoring the way you wanted to roll your eyes at his antics, “The only times you’ve ever called me James was when I’ve pissed you off, or when I’ve done something, or when we’re talking about something serious. Which makes sense since we are talking about something serious right now—”

To push his buttons, you decided to do the same to him, “Does this lead to a point?”

“Yes, if you would let me talk,” James scoffed, a playful tone in his voice, “As I was saying, you only call me James when I do something... That night in the Common Room was the first time you called me James for not doing something. And Merlin’s beard, every night since then, I wished that I did.”

You wore a puzzled look on your face, not understanding what he was saying, “What?”

“I wish I did something that night, Y/N/N,” he confessed, “I wish I didn’t leave you on your own. I wish I sat down and talked to you that night. I wish I kissed you when you asked me to. Something! I wish I did something instead of just walking away.”

You stayed silent as you let yourself process his words. You didn’t want to feel the butterflies in your stomach, but when you realized that he regretted that night for the opposite reason that you did, you couldn’t help it. You regretted that night because you lost James. You lost the years of friendship and history that the both of you shared because of one too many shots. You swallowed your pride and asked him to kiss you so you could have something to remember him by, something to keep you connected with him, even if it was nothing more to him than a memory.

He regretted that he walked away from you despite the growing ache in his chest. He shut out the rest of the Marauders, hoping that he’ll have enough courage to face what he was feeling for you, rather than hide away and cower behind his far-fetched fantasy with Lily. James regretted that night because he let you believe that you lost him when in reality, he was completely and wholly yours to take.

“Y/N?” he whispered, focusing on nothing else but you, “Please, say something.”

“You can’t do that, Prongs,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes twinkled with glee when the nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. You blushed, embarrassed, “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“Never apologize for that,” he shook his head, testing the waters by sitting down on your bed beside you. You didn’t push him off, which he took as a good sign, “Never break that habit either. It comes naturally to you and that’s what I want between us, Y/N/N. We fit together so naturally.”

You closed your eyes, letting out broken breaths. You clutched your chest, feeling yourself crumble to his feet. James couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wrapped his arms around your shivering figure, only holding you tighter when he felt you stiffen under his touch. He cooed into your hair, sweet nothings that didn’t make any sense, but it was enough.

James kissed the top of your head, letting you beat your knuckles on his chest in frustration. He knew he deserved this. He deserved your anger and your rejection and your denial. He deserved to be left for dust, as he did to you. But for now, he had you in his arms, and he’d take that over anything else in the world.

You cried into his chest, “You’ve hurt me so much, James Potter.”

“I know.”

“It hurt so much to watch you run after someone else while I was just standing there, waiting for you to see me.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about why I wasn’t good enough for you?” you croaked out, not having the energy to pull away from him. You stayed idle in his arms, except for the occasional wiping of the tears that stained your cheeks, “I know I’m not Lily but Godric, I thought I would be good enough for you.”

“You are,” he replied, holding your face in his hands. James pulled you away, hoping that if you were to see the sincerity in his eyes, you’d see how much he meant it, “Y/N, you are too good for me. I’m the one that isn’t good enough for you. I’ve been such a fool.”

“James,” you pushed him away, creating some distance between you. The few inches that separated the both of you might as well be oceans because James had never felt so far from you before.

He reached out for you, a ghost of a touch caressing your hand before you pulled it away, “Please, stop pulling away from me. Y/N, I’m trying.”

And he was. You could tell he was trying to figure out what it was he felt for you. He stared at you differently this time— not in the way a friend looked at a friend or the way he used to look at you with lust clouding his eyes. This time, this time was different. James stared at you in adoration, like if he were to be separated from you again, he would lose all his senses. His eyes yearned to look into yours, hoping that if he looked into the swirls of your eyes long enough, he’d be able to see the future he desperately craved with you.

“I know you are,” you smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes. You leaned over to trace patterns on the top of his hand. “And I appreciate that you’re trying to figure this out but James, like I said, I can’t be ten steps ahead of you. I can’t wait for you to figure out what you’re feeling for me while I watch myself fall deeper and deeper in love with you because I love you, James and I—”

James’ breath got caught in his throat. The minute those words left your lips, his other hand placed itself on top of yours. He squeezed it, “Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Say that you love me again.”

You shook your head, flustered that you confessed your unrequited love for him a second time. You tried to take your hand back but James held it in place, staring at the way your limbs seemed to melt together.

He spoke again after he realized you weren’t going to, “The night you told me you were in love with me, I felt something that scared me. At first I thought it was just shock and confusion, maybe, because I didn’t think you could ever fall in love with me. I stayed up trying to figure out what that feeling was in my chest because I couldn’t sleep, Y/N. There was this pressure in my chest that I’ve never felt before.”

James locked his eyes with yours, “And when you said those words right now, I felt it again— that pressure, that something in my chest. Now, it makes sense. It all makes sense. You, your words, your love, is the only thing that makes me feel this way.”

“What are you saying, James?”

“I’m in love with you, too,” he chuckled, breathily. His eyes pooled with his tears, the overwhelming feelings of realization too much for his emotions to handle, “I’ve been so blind all this time, trying to hide it behind an infatuation that could never and would never touch what we share— what we have.”

“You can’t say things like that without meaning it. Just a few minutes ago you showed up saying that you didn’t know how you feel and suddenly because I said three little words, you have it all figured out?”

“No,” he said, truthfully, “I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t know how I can make you trust me again. Or how I can show you how much I truly mean it when I say that I love you. Or how I can convince you that we can move past this. But those three little words helped me become more sure of myself than I ever have been this entire month and I would do anything for you to give me a chance to prove myself.”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” you mumbled.

His hopeful eyes wandered to yours, “I’d rather hurt myself a million times over than hurt you again.”

Finally, after fighting thoughts, you gave in. You nodded, scooting closer to him. James let out a laugh, completely overjoyed that you found it in your heart to give him a chance. He wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you down onto your messy bed with him. He held you so close to his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat and the way his chest rumbled as he spoke to you.

“Thank you,” he murmured. James caressed the side of your face. He inched closer, darting his eyes to your lips. He swallowed back his fears, taking a leap of faith as he asked the question, “Can I kiss you?”

You found yourself lost in his eyes, lost in his presence. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the boy in front of you, the boy you loved who you watched love another. The boy who was now in front of you, staring at you in the way that you always craved. It took you a minute to find the right words. When you eventually did, you nodded, hovering your lips over his, “As long as it’s not the last time.”

TAGS: @littlegasps @sleep-i-ness @belledawnidk @heloisedaphnebrightmore @chudleycanons @emcchi

#frances writes #frances song fics #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter x yn #the marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #idk how to feel about this #kinda like it kinda dont?#never been one for happy endings #does this even count as a happy ending LOL

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