#1) it isn't that deep and i feel like we see it so often nowadays

[madegeeky]

Been watching the Fallout television series and it's fascinating. I'm getting stuff that I assumed would be there but then they're throwing in some themes and ideas that I was really not expecting. Now, it might shit the bed on some of these ideas, as I still have an ep to go, but so far I've been loving it.

Some of my fave themes and thoughts:

The world is cruel and wants you to be cruel. How hard do you fight to stay kind? (Because it will be a fight and it will be hard.)

At what point do you stop becoming a spectator to horrible things and instead become culpable?

Where does being happy with the way things are end and cowardice begin?

When something is wrong, at what point are you obligated to fix it?

Is willful ignorance ever the correct choice?

Not all bravery is stepping into danger. A person can be brave by choosing kindness over cruelty. An person can be brave by accepting kindness when all they've known is hurt.

You are not your past, for better or worse. You are only who you are in the present. Who will you choose to be?

[thejockout]

A Word On Dumbing Down

In some conversations with my bros @avissapiens and @master-villain the other day, I finally managed to put a specific idea into words that had been crystallising for a long time. Nothing earth-shattering or even transformative, because I'd been exploring this same understanding with different wording for quite a while now, but it felt significant to me and sparked me to make this post.

The realisation was simple: Dumbing Down is not something you can "Do" as a standalone action. It's perhaps more accurate to say Dumbing Down is itself the perspective shift and realisation that "Smart" is something you can choose to "Not Do."

Clunky wording, I know, but pretend it's smooth for me.

(And as a necessary fyi, this post assumes familiarity with Dumbing Down as a hypnotic concept, which is nowadays most often written and spoken about as a general simplification of thought and cognition versus turning you into some drooling doofus. Maybe the latter is your thing, maybe it isn't - either way, I'm talking here about the more "realistic"/AKA sustainable model where the word dumb is synonymous with "so laid back, you don't want to think or care if people perceive you as dumb because of it".)

Too many subjects (myself included) work at hypnotic personality and cognition changes with a straining effort, in an energetically desperate approach. This is understandable - we tend to push hard for things we really want - and anyone can fall victim to it. It's very similar contextually to the trap many anxiety sufferers fall into when they begin therapy. In an earnest attempt to recover, many sufferers approach recovery with the exact same mindset they do life; that of a "fixer", a "do-er", someone who problem-solves and overthinks themselves into knots and runs loops around the same well-worn mental tracks over and over again to the point of exhaustion.

Don't worry, I'm not here to give some big-brain solution to mental health issues. I suffer myself and am on my own journey of recovery, so I'm in no place to play armchair psychologist. But I will speak about this topic as it relates to hypnosis and dumbing down because the overlap of people who are into Dumbing Down/IQ Reduction/Simplification/Bimbofication/Himbofication hypnosis and who suffer with anxiety (and overthinking) is quite high, so chances are that many who struggle with Dumbing Down suggestions are making the same mistakes. Please see my peer-reviewed Paint Diagram below which provides unequivocal, non-anecdotal proof of this.

IMO, there's nothing wrong with this overlap. Kink is an outlet for many people to deal with emotional issues, and often a very helpful coping mechanism. Dumbing Down is no different conceptually. But I'm talking about this because, just like approaching anti-anxiety work with an anxious energy and effort is doomed to failure, the exact same is true for Dumbing Down. Approaching it with an Intellectualist mindset OR in other words, the anxious energy of a fix-er and do-er and try-er is antithetical to the very state you wish to experience.

Does that make sense?

Successful Dumbing Down (beyond the very enjoyable, shorter-term effects of deep trance which feel like intoxication) is effectively the act of stepping back from mental action/the habit of overthinking. To give another clumsy metaphor, if your default mind works like a toy train constantly running around its track, sometimes gaining speed and sometimes slowing down... Dumbing Down comes from realising "hey, I can actually plug this thing out." No, it's not as simple as turning off an appliance, and it takes time for everyone. Overthought (in all its forms, whether anxious or just from over-intellectualising your life) is effectively a habit, and habits take time to make or break.

Therefore, Perspective Shift #1 that you need to make: recognise that thinking patterns and their frequency are ultimately behavioural and habitual, and can therefore be rewired and lessened with time and specific action. It's not an immediate thing - but it is possible, and this is effectively what dumbing in hypnosis is about.

That perspective raises some questions, I know. But I don't want to write about the answers just yet. Reread and consider that last paragraph a few times to make sure you've really processed it. Think about the questions it leaves you with, and come up with a few answers of your own if you can. You can post your thoughts in the comments or reblogs of this post, as I will be taking the time to read through them, and I'll continue this topic in future as I think more on it myself.

Later.

[caltropspress]

RAPS + CRAFTS #9: junclassic

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

My name is junclassic. One word. All small letters. Like dead prez and ee cummings. My recent project is my latest album, Long Days and Short Lives. It's an album that explores daily mundane experiences that sometimes comprise a long day. While having those long days, we often contemplate what got us there and question whether we are moving in the right direction with our lives. These moments can conjure feelings of great inspiration as well as deep despair and crippling self doubt. It can make a good guy wanna flip. Hopefully, at the end of all that contemplation we obtain a calm wisdom or a carefully crafted perspective that somehow guides us through the uncertainty.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I write wherever. In the 90s, I often wrote on the A, J, and E trains. Or in Baisley Park on a bench for hours with a Dutch and a Heineken. Nowadays I write mostly in my bedroom or in my girl's living room. For some reason, I feel like I come up with my best shit at my girl's crib when she is knocked out. So this is between like 2 and 6am. That's when I'm in the zone. I tend to write at night. Often till sun comes up. On Long Days and Short Lives, from a song called "Suit of Armor," one of my favorites on the project, the first bar is: "When I'm inspired I can't sleep / That's when I'm at my best." I stay up like insomniacs in laundromats. Ha. There was definitely a time when I disciplined myself by forcing myself to write. Back in '96, I joined my first group, E and J, with my man Ed. We used to practice knocking out three verses. Two 16s (one each) and two 8s for the 3rd verse within 4 hours or less. Ed said one day, "What if they need a new song from us and we gotta tour the next day? We gotta be able to knock 'em out." For some reason, that rigid approach made a mark on me. And I continued to force myself to write bars for years. But the mindset became, "Lemme write now while I can. Because the day may come when I can't write anymore." So I pushed out a lot of material. But now, I don't like to force it. I'd rather it come naturally. Plus, I'm a lot more choosy with my words these days. I also stack lines in the back of my notebook, which I've been doing since 1997, so when I feel the urge to write and get stuck, I have lines I can run to the back of the notebook to keep the vibe going.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

My medium is paper. Always will be. Sometimes I think of a line, then scratch it out and tweak it. Sometimes I move lines around. I need a visual medium to see and read the words. Never been too good at constructing verses in my head. That's an amazing talent I have rarely come across. But I used to be nasty off the top.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

I write in bars. Learned to count them early during the E and J days in 1996. Counting bars was important because that's how we knew when a song was complete. For me and E, it was a race to 16. Soon as we hit that sweet 16 it was a celebration. Crack the Cisco!

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

It varies on when I know whether a verse or song is or isn't working. Might be midway, verse and a half in, when I say, "This ain't it." I've had some ambitious concepts I tried to do that I couldn't properly pull off. And I didn't realize it until the 4th verse. Yep. 4th verse. I'll share that one. I wanted to do a tribute to Nas' "I Gave You Power" back in 2020 for my last album The Hope Business. So I wrote a song from the perspective of a body camera that somehow gains self awareness. After repeatedly witnessing police brutality in real time, the camera decides to detonate itself and explode on a bigoted officer. In the first two verses, I described several horrific scenes that really happened. The third verse the camera gets awareness. And in the 4th verse it detonates. But after nearing completion, I just felt like something was missing from the song. So I never recorded the joint. Still got the lyrics, though. I don't discard lyrics. Them shits take a long time to come up with. Still got verses in my head from 1997 that I find very interesting and just might use one day.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I have engaged in other writing outside of rhymes fo sho. I work with at-risk youth as part of my 9-to-5, and I have to document what we discuss and some of the activities we partake in. So I write nonfiction for a living. I think it helps with my writing process. The things the kids experience and my advice to them also adds to my perspective. I really like to focus on details. I think capturing detail makes for compelling writing. I want to get better at that. And the nonfiction writing is full of details. So that helps. 

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

I definitely edit verses. But I used to be much quicker with my editing than I am now. I definitely labor over verses. I'll be stuck on a line for a half hour or longer. I'll burn an L and sit there and stare at that page until those words come. And when that breakthrough happens! Man, it's euphoric. It's a great release. But if I really can't get it, I'll go for a walk. Listen to music. Or watch something interesting and come back to it. Sometimes I might just say eff it and stop. Start something new. And never come back to it until I stumble over the four bars previously abandoned and think, "This is dope!" and add that four to the new verse I started. Or make it a hook.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

Sometimes I'll write to a beat. But my preferred method is writing acapella. That's where I started. Writing in class my junior year of high school. Writing on the train. Writing when I had no music. So my flow, my enunciation of the words, became the music. The way the words rolled off the tongue made a beat of its own. Which I always thought was dope. The method I use the most is listening to the beat for a bit, finding the tempo, then writing with no beat. Sometimes the beat playing repeatedly can become a distraction. I wanna focus on the words.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

The direction of the lyrics depend. Usually the beat will dictate the lyrical concept. But there are times when I have lyrics and find a beat that works for them. But typically the beat brings out the content. For the song "Dignity," off Long Days, the beat called for the content. But funny enough, I had a lot of those bars before I heard the beat: "Panicking / Team player but I'm managing / Need some peanut butter so we can smother the jam I'm in." I had that line already. But I was looking for a moody beat to drop those to. Shout to Koba Dera, who produced "Dignity." He nailed it. My man l8sho told me that song is gonna be his winter anthem. That beat feels like a cold wind. 

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I definitely like to play with flows and rhyme schemes. I feel like the best emcees keep the listener guessing. So I try to be somewhat unpredictable. I'd say I have four different flows. I have a slow steady flow. I have a fast flow. I have this thing about rhyming words in between the bars. And I have a more traditional flow where I gotta make the end of every bar rhyme. But I prefer to play with it. There are times when I am rigid and sparse with the flow, but that's usually when I'm just talking to the listener. On "Cousin Boogzee," produced by Iron Fizt, another cat who nailed it with the beat, I'm just talking: "And it's sweet when the mayor saying crime going down / While rounds are going off / And kids are diving toward the ground/...I mean diving like they by the pool / They bodied my little bro right by the school". Rest in Paradise Step.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

A verse I'm particularly proud of is the second verse in "Suit of Armor," a song I mentioned earlier. The verse: "You barter with mortgage lenders / I argue with fortune tellers." So you are doing grown man business by working on a mortgage. I'm arguing with people who predict the future. I am not where you are. I'm in a more desperate position. Then it continues, "Had past lives I just can't remember / Or surrender…" Then one of my favorite bars, "Fake promises / Raised my pain tolerance." That's just real. "Remain anonymous / Strain to maintain dominance." Then arguably my favorite four bars on the whole project: "Old head / Steps on the train looking so calm / Train starts moving but dude don't even hold on / Every stride worry free / I glance at him nervously / Hope he don't slip but he used to the adversity." He's used to shit being difficult. That's why his stride is worry free, despite the train moving. He does this shit. Daily. So it's not as intense or scary to him.

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

A favorite bar of mine became the album title. I said in 1997: "Brothers going through long days and short lives." That was so compelling to me I held onto that shit for 25 years and named my new album after that bar. It says so much with so little. Since I dropped this album on November 4th, several people I met through music have passed away. The oldest was 50. That's a short life. God Bless Your life Big Spiega. God bless Your life Kuya Alan. I feel the most profound lines are the ones that seem simple but can mean so much.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I definitely feel a way about punch-ins. To me, it's cheating. Something I try not to do, unless absolutely necessary. I come from being able to perform your music. Not rapping over vocals either. That shit is the worst. Sounds like two people talking at the exact same time. Hate that shit! I like to be able to deliver the verse in one reading or one take. But a one-take recording and having it sound right is a rare and extremely difficult task. But I rarely punch-in. I'll do it over and over until I can get it with no punches. Did I punch on my new album? Yes. Yes I did.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

Non-hiphop that inspires me is my life. My life and mood at the time I create heavily dictates what comes off the pen. I recently had a situation that inspired the "Pull Up" song on the album. I felt aggressive when I wrote that after an unfriendly encounter, so that's what came out. That vibe was missing from the album so I added it in the 11th hour after J Slikk sent this crazy ass beat. And many people dig the song, so I guess they feel where I'm coming from. I am also inspired by Prince. "Work to Do" by The Isley Brothers motivated me to move the pen in 2022 after seeing them perform it on Verzuz. "I got work to do. Work to dooooo." Their sound, the harmonies, and the urgency in their message, emboldened me to share my urgency and insecurities. 

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

Self-doubt is real. I write until I like my writing. But once I put it out for consumption, all the self-doubt and insecurity comes roaring back. Now my perspective doesn't mean so much. I may think it's dope as hell. But if I don't get feedback that substantiates my perceived dopeness, it affects the way I feel about the work. I question it. And I often feel like I was bugging and it really ain't all that. Until someone validates it and says, "This is incredible." That has happened repeatedly with Long Days and Short Lives. There was a time when I couldn't listen to the album because I thought people weren't listening. When people quote certain lines, that puts a great battery in my back that I'm on-point. But self-doubt is a mafucka, and it rears its ugly head after every release I put out. 

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

Nas is the GOAT to me. I feel like my flow starts to speed up when I listen to him too much. Nas got the illest flow. DOOM is another one. Especially with the one-liners and rhyming words in between the rhymes as well as at the end of the bar. DOOM is one of the best at that and I find myself doing it a lot. Jadakiss and his measured flow is another style I imitate. Buckshot started it all for me, though. Enta Da Stage is my favorite album. Buck's delivery is perfect. I like how measured his words are. That's something I try to recreate. Till I listen to Nas and wanna add more words in each bar again - haha. 

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

I realized a long time ago that I'd rather inform than entertain. I don't wanna have to rap a fantasy life just to keep your interest. Listen listener, it ain't about you. Many years ago, maybe 2009, I wrote: "I do the music cause it's therapeutic / I used to sit secluded / With Clue exclusives / And catch visions to it." I write because it helps me make sense out of a nonsensical world. Like I mentioned earlier, I'm trying to capture the details that make it all make sense. On the last song of Long Days and Short Lives, a song called "Talkin' Bout," I start the verse with: "Shinin' / Feeling like a blind man drivin' / I ain't really knowin' where I'm goin' / But I'm ridin'." That felt so real to me. I don't know where I'm headed, but I know I'm moving somewhere. And I'm confident. I'm riding with my chest out. Like a blind man driving. I may not be able to see forward, but I'm moving forward regardless.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

[seraphanangelica]

I Hope You Suffer

Bakugo x Fem! Reader Angst

Feat. Midoriya

I wrote this a LONG time ago, and I’m posting it on here for nostalgic reasons. It’s also on my Wattpad 😂

Warnings: Violence, language, Bakugo being a prick

I stared hatefully at the two pieces of paper that laid all alone on my otherwise empty mahogany desk. Two letters, to be precise, were from him, the one person who I absolutely hated right now. Right when we were getting serious he just had to make me look like a fool. He just had to try to weaken me.

With an enraged scream, I shot a beam of fire at the papers that tore my heart in a million pieces, making them turn to ash instantly, same for the desk. For a second, I stared at the pile of ash with a blank expression on my face, a split second of emotionless behavior.

"SHIT!!!!" I screamed, sinking to the black stained carpet that was supposed to be white. I had burned so much stuff in this room that I gave up on trying to clean the floors. I buried my face in the palms of my hands, pulling my H/L H/C hair out of frustration.

How could he do this to me? What have I done to him to deserve this? They all warned me. They said it would end like this--ugly and uncaring.

"WHY?!" I slammed my fists on the floor, leaving marks of ash in the exact shape of my fists. My breath became ragged, the source of my air leaving. It was like the world was mocking me, disgracing my actions. But it wasn't me they needed to mock. It was him.

The next day at school, I didn't talk to anyone as I walked onto campus. I just wanted to get class over with. Right now, everyone was annoying, laughing and joking, smiling at their wonderful day. Whatever, it's not like they knew what happened. I can't just expect them to automatically know and come talk to me.

I walked slower than my usual speedy pace, not caring if I was late at all. Today, Aizawa could kiss my ass, as well as all the heroes here. knowing the person I dreaded to see would start something up, chances were high that I would break a myriad of school rules just to see him fall.

"Y/N!! Wait up!" Izuku shouted, running up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. "You didn't return my calls last night. I was worried that something was wrong." He said with concern, but with the ever-present smile on his face.

I smiled my best fake smile and nodded once, waving my hand in a dismissive gesture as we walked, still very slowly, towards 1-A. "Yeah, sorry about that, Izuku," I looked behind my shoulder, scanning the students until I saw a very familiar head of spiky blonde hair. "I was a little preoccupied last night." I scowled, venom on my tongue.

Izuku stopped smiling. After a second, he stopped walking. "I know you, Y/N, more than you think. That smile isn't real." He put his hands in his pockets and looked up at me worriedly. I just shrugged and continued walking, not waiting for Izuku, knowing he'd catch up to ask more questions.

Looking behind to where I was previously, his frown turned to slight anger. "Did something happen with you and Kacchan?" He glanced me look of pity, making me scoff.

"And if something did? Please don't pity me, I don't need it or want it. And don't do anything rash." I added the last part just as Izuku clenched his fists in attempt to not say anything. When he didn't respond, I knew he was most likely thinking of what he'd do if Katsuki hurt me again.

It was silent as we entered the classroom, sadly separating to go to our seats. I took my seat next to Todoroki, who as I was worried about, because he notices everything. Won't be long until he notices I'm not talking to Katsuki like I always do.

Sighing inwardly, I folded my arms on the desk and used them as a pillow as I hid my face, praying when Katsuki entered the room he wouldn't say anything. Did I just think Katsuki and not saying anything in the same sentence?

I could practically sense Todoroki looking at me curiously due to my odd behavior, but it's not like I cared. To be honest, who really does? I heard Todoroki sigh quietly, probably giving up trying to figure out what my problem was. I just wanted silence. Like everything I did, it was a wasted endeavor.

"DEKU YOU BASTARD!!"

My head snapped up and I saw Katsuki yelling at Izuku as always. Wonder what Izuku didn't do this time. I didn't pay much mind to it nowadays since Izuku got his quirk, explaining it was late manifestation. But considering the circumstances from last night, things have changed.

Before Izuku could even open his mouth to respond, I stepped in, laughing my ass off. Of course the laugh was fake, but it was more convincing than my smile.

"THE FUCK YOU LAUGHING AT, L/N?" Katsuki shouted, his attention turned away from my best friend. I put my finger up for him to give a second as I was seriously struggling to get air, standing up so I could breathe easier. Katsuki looked shocked that someone told him to wait so they could respond - they would just cower.

"You just...need to.... One second." There were a few laughs from the other students as I continued taking deep breaths, once again putting my finger up, telling him to wait even longer. I quickly regained my posture and spoke with a smirk, "You just need to change what you say more often. 'Deku you bastard' is way too overused."

Katsuki returned my smirk, his darker and more cruel. "You know what else is overused? You calling me by my first name. It's Bakugo to you now." Silence consumed the classroom, a couple people gasped. By this time, the whole of 1-A knew we had broken up.

I clenched my fists and walked up to Bakugo so we were but a foot apart. "WHAT DID I DO, HUH?! YOU JUST DROP ME LIKE I'M NOTHING? THROW ME AWAY LIKE A FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH?!"

He rolled his eyes and scowled, something deadly that I might not survive. Well, there's nothing to live for now. "You're just an obstacle in my way, an extra. You are nothing," He pushed me lightly, making me stumble back. "You are just a piece of trash, something, as you said is so easily thrown away." By now he had me against the wall, his arm pinning me to it.

I tried to look calm and menacing, but my eyes gave me away, I already knew it. So, as I hated him, I tried to hit him where it hurts. More specifically, his pride. "An extra? Oh, please. You do know you're the only one here who doesn't think of yourself as one too? There are people more talented and powerful here than you, and they don't think of me as an extra."

"SHUT UP! I'M NOT AN EXTRA! THE ONLY REASON THEY DON'T CONSIDER YOU AS AN ONE IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU EXIST AND THEY COULDN'T CARE LESS ABOUT A PATHETIC THING LIKE YOU!"  Bakugo grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled off the wall just to slam me back against it, the impact making me shudder.

What happened next was like slow motion to me. My E/C eyes saw Iida shouting at Bakugo to sit down, just as Bakugo raised his fist that was surround by explosions at me. With shouts of rage, Izuku and Todoroki grabbed him and tried pulling him away from me. It deemed useless when Bakugo broke free of their hold, and turning back to me. Just as I was about to be exploded into bits, a familiar white/grey scarf captured Bakugo, and drug him away from the area.

I was frozen in place, my shock taking hold of my mind. I was numb to the world and frankly, I liked it. Two things he had said to me hung in my mind like poison. He had called me a thing. Is that really how he sees me? That, though, was nothing compared to what he screamed as he was dragged back to his seat by Aizawa. 'I hate you, Y/N L/N'.

Not caring who was watching, I sunk to my knees and finally cried, letting my tears fall in ugly and loud sobs, completely missing the quick flash of regret in Bakugo's face. He reminded himself that he needed to do what he did so he could become the best. Before  I could see the true feelings of Katsuki Bakugo, he went back to the profile of a heartless, broken beast.

"I-I just can't believe Kacchan would do that to you."  Izuku stuttered as we walked out of UA and headed to the nearest diner. I hadn't eaten lunch since Bakugo would be there, so Izuku insisted that he'd take me to get something to eat. Truly, I didn't mind as long as he pays; free food is free food.

"It's alright, really. He had a problem, and he got rid of it. Simple enough." I put my hands in my jacket pockets and slouched, a complete giveaway towards my emotions. I can't keep anything away from those who know everything about me.

Izuku surprisingly didn't even look at me as I said what I thought. Honestly, I've been telling myself I was just a problem and something in the way ever since I started attending UA. As much as Izuku and everyone else tries to tell me, I deny every time they do, I don't believe it when they say I'm worth it. Bakugo just confirmed my thoughts.

"You just called yourself a problem," Izuku shook his head. "But you're not. Why do you put yourself down like this?" By now, my green haired friend was fully convinced I was at some level depressed from the situation.

I shrugged as we approached the restaurant, reaching the door first and holding it open for Izuku. "It's the truth, I am well aware it hurts." I said simply, sitting at a random table by the window so I could at least breath a bit. Bored very quickly, I picked up the menu and scanned my eyes over the list of food.

Izuku sat across from me and frowned at the table, a truly sad and broken expression present on his face. I wanted to question what it was for, but decided against it quickly when he looked up, our eyes meeting, green to E/C. He sighed and shook his head again as if he were wanting to tell me something and was restraining himself before he could.

The waitress arrived then, and we ordered our drinks and food, avoiding eye contact with everything and everyone. She nodded and then left, scribbling the last things on her notepad. When she was out of sight, we continued the conversation.

"What happened yesterday? You and Kacchan seemed fine at school, and now you can't even speak his name." He said after a long couple seconds' silence. I stayed silent, looking at the dark brown table with sudden interest in the illusion of texture. "Tell me, Y/N." He pressed. One day, his caring too much will have big consequences for him- good and bad.

"Nothing really important. I was just walking home yesterday from what seemed like a good day with Katsuki- I mean Bakugo. Then a few hours later, my mother came in and handed me two envelopes written out to me." I paused, not sure I wanted to go on, but Izuku's interest made me continue. Blame him for all my good doings. "I Was excited, as anyone would be if they see something addressed to them on paper rather than text. Both letters were from Katsuki, the first one saying how much he loved me and that it was genuine, only for the second one to say that that's the exact reason he had to let me go. I was in the way of him becoming the best hero the world could get. I threw them on my desk and disintegrated the papers and my desk."

Izuku  portrayed something so despondent, it was hard to believe that it was him. "That's something you can expect from Kacchan... but that doesn't mean he has a right to do that to you."

The waitress came with out food and we thanked her, carrying on the moment she left. I hope she didn't think we were being secretive and I hate more than anything someone being suspicious of me. Then again, it wasn't her job to ask questions-it was her job to bring the food.

"Besides," He started, taking a bite of chicken. "He could be regretting it this very moment." His smile was so convincing, but I didn't believe it for a second.

"What was it you just said? The betrayal sounds like Bakugo, but regret doesn't even come close to him. You have more luck breaking the fourth wall then getting a smidgen of regret from Katsuki." I scoffed, picking at my food with sudden slight disgust. Izuku is going to pay for it, so might as well try to eat something.

Izuku nodded in understanding, then shook his head. "Kacchan has regrets. I've seen him regret many things before, and I'm sure he regrets this." The way he tried to lighten the mood, the amount of effort not to be angry at Bakugo, the self restraint he put upon himself was phenomenal. I would've expected at least one tear to fall by now, or at least some form of his anger to reveal itself. I knew Izuku was mad at Bakugo, but it wasn't his problem. What his problem was was making every single one his. It'll get him killed one day, I guarantee it.

I sighed and glanced out the window, eyeing the vibrant green grass field that was known as the park just a street across. When I was younger, that meadow of sorts used to be my haven, my way to contemplate life's complications, to release my anger if need be. But I couldn't do that anymore. When I did, the meadow was sealed off, giving me the advantage to incinerate anything and everything I wanted to. I'm pretty sure there was still the remains of an oak tree from a few years ago just sitting there, waiting to disappear like an apparition. Sooner or later, the stress from the life of UA would lead back there once again.

"Possibly," I said softly, breaking out of my thoughts. "But we will see. I won't wait around for him to beg for forgiveness. If he can move on so damn quickly, so can I, and I will not let him get under my skin just to rip me apart. Again. I hope he suffers."

Izuku went pale, a glimpse of fear in his eyes. I, being one of the most powerful in class 1-A, have been proven to be very intimidating when angry, so no one really tries to get me even the slightest annoyed. All but Bakugo of course.

"Y-you don't actually mean that, d-do you?" He stuttered, his already big eyes wide with worry for who he thinks is his friend. One day, he'll realize Katsuki Bakugo had stopped being his friend years ago.

I just smiled, still looking out the window marveling at the beauty of what was about to be a pile of ash. I always smile when I'm angry, it's a huge giveaway if anyone's ever saw one.

"Oh, I mean it. He thinks he can just throw me away? I'll just keep coming back, and back, and back until he gets a solid message. He will suffer." With a wicked smirk, I waited for the right time I could tell Bakugo I was going to be his demise.

Tonight, all that we cherished together will go go down to ash.

Yeah... welp, there’s always room for improvement!