I'm surprised you haven't posted any Welcome home stuff recently! Honestly kinda makes me sad since I love your WH art and stuff
yea y'all are gonna have to be Patient w/ me bc
a) i have like. a week left to pack all of my stuff before i need to shove everything into a uhaul and leave, so its crunch time! leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else
b) to be honest my mental health is the worst its been in years - which is fine, its whatever, i can deal. it's not as bad as it could be and im handling it! like a champ, even! but also its leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else
c) had a minor crisis over my art and how i interact w/ WH, and i realized im not scribbling enough of what I want. ive mostly been trying to please people and do as asked and thats! not good! so i want to temper expectation & reassert that im Not a WH art blog - its just a hyperfixation / something i love rn. i draw what i enjoy & what i want in the moment.
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okay but. vigilante!bakugou. with a full mask to cover his face, the only "super" one in a quirkless world. literally every dc trope ever, but i don't care because with him, it's so afhakfha.
you work together in some office job and he's always coming in late with his trousers loose and his shirt untucked. never really speaks to you, except for when there's a group task that needs to get done and your team reserves the conference room to figure out how you'll divide the work and he ends up sitting beside you somehow. borrows a pen, because he forgot one.
other than that, you just know of him, bakugou katsuki. quiet. always frowning. looks like he'd bite your head off for looking at him sideways. doesn't really catch your eye — though you agree with your coworker that he's kinda handsome when he's not scowling — and you don't think he's the kinda guy that's gonna go out for drinks after work with you and the team. and you're right, because he can't.
truth be told, you're not really interested anyway — because you're kinda-sorta, really-super into this guy dynamight, who stops by your apartment every night.
it's thanks to him that you didn't get mugged and left for dead in some alleyway a few months back, and though you think that makes him rather trustworthy, you know your friends would have a cow about the fact that you've never heard his voice or seen his face. that you're always sitting on the rooftop of your complex, waiting, until he's so close that you can feel the echo of his explosions in your chest. reverberating beneath your bones, just like your heartbeat.
you don't know why he bothers, but you also don't really care. he listens to the needless recount of your day, even huffs out a laugh at times. the most you've ever seen of him is the lower half of his face, the cut of his jaw when he took a drink from the chilled water bottle you had waiting. maybe a flash of his hair, but it'd been dark and you can't for the life of you remember if it was blonde or maybe light brown ?
the city is dying to know who he is because, despite being so explosive, he's pretty good at going quiet when he needs to; always manages to get away from the swarm of red and blue that chases him down the highway. and yeah, maybe taking justice into his own hands is a teeny bit irresponsible, okay, but you can't help but to feel a little safer, walking home under his echoing boom as he shoots across the sky.
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i do like the idea of heather feeling like a big fish trapped in a small pond and all she wants is to get out of hawkins and be free. she wants to be in a big city she wants to be surrounded by diverse people she wants to kiss a lot of ladies and also men!
her parents are so strict when it comes to their Image™ and there's so many rules and she's had enough dammit! she's gotta spread her wings and fly
and she sees her ticket to do that in billy. in the way he talks about california and his friends back there and all the shit they used to get into. the concerts and the partying and the people... there was so much to get into
so after graduation when billy decides he's packing up the camaro and heading west, heather tells him she's going with him. writes a letter to her parents apologizing for making a sneaky getaway but explaining how she thinks this is the best thing for her, and she promises she'll call from the first place they stop at
heathers hanging out the camaros passenger window as billy speeds past the LEAVING HAWKINS sign. wind whipping through her hair as she flips the bird at the town that did nothing but hold her back
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Usopp didn't like lemonade.
There wasn't anything deep about it, he just didn't like the taste so he avoided it.
Though, there was an exception.
"Sanji-kun~" Usopp called, clasping his hands together. "Do you have any extras?"
Sanji, having just finished serving the girls and was heading back to the galley, said, "Everyone else's snacks are on the table."
Luffy's triumphant cry was heard moments later, like clockwork.
"Drinks too?" Usopp asked, batting his lashes.
Sanji huffed, a small smile growing on his lips. "I only made enough for the girls, but I think we still have lemonade in the fridge."
"Really?" Usopp grinned. "Thanks Sanji!"
Sanji averted his eyes, a red tint growing on his cheeks. "It's just leftovers," he mumbled.
And just like every day before, Usopp would walk into the galley, spy the tall slim glass with a little umbrella sitting on the bar. There would be a juicer on the drying rack, poorly hidden behind a cutting board. And Usopp would sit down, and sip the too-sweet, too-sour drink through a yellow straw.
He would give Sanji his approval- best lemonade he'd ever had, and that was the truth-
And then Sanji- Sanji's face would brighten considerably, in this one specific way, in this one specific moment. His eyes would widen and his face would get a little pink and he'd stare at Usopp as if he'd been struck with some beautiful epiphany.
And Usopp would cherish that moment, savour it, hold it close. So that when it passed- when it passed and they got on with their days, he could daydream about that face- that expression. He could imagine improbable scenarios of confessing his love and seeing that face again.
He would regret it all that same night, agonizing over what he was doing. And all for what? A few moments of having Sanji's precious face focused on him? Focused on his false compliments? His lies by omission?
In the morning, all his worries would retreat, hiding away with the moon. He would tend to his garden, sketch, maybe fish- whatever he did, he would fill his time before the midday snack and the cycle would start anew.
Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself.
"Nothing's 'just leftovers' when you make it!" Usopp said confidently. "It's gonna be great, I can tell."
Sanji rolled his eyes, his cheeks still a little red. "Yeah, yeah, enough with the flattery." He lightly pushed Usopp's back. "Get going before Luffy drinks it all."
"Oh shit-!"
Usopp didn't like lemonade.
There wasn't anything deep about it, he just didn't like the taste so he avoided it.
But- he mused, sitting across from Sanji's expectant eyes, the glass cradled in his hands- he would drink it every day of his life, if Sanji made it for him.
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