#Choosing Best News Agency

[gbn24nes12]

The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Best News Agency in Jharkhand for Your Company

In today’s fast-paced business landscape, the role of news agencies in shaping company branding and visibility has become more crucial than ever. As businesses strive to reach their target audience effectively, selecting the right news agency in Jharkhand can make a significant impact on their success. This comprehensive guide will walk you through the essential factors to consider when choosing…

[questioninglogic]

my sister and i are doing our watch-through of danny phantom and i've become. genuinely baffled at the hatred for the episode Double Cross My Heart

i was actually dreading watching this because i remember hating this episode too, and now i don't remember why. why did i hate it again? fdjnskfnjk

throwing this in the tags because i'd love to have a conversation to see what people think. maybe there was something i missed, or for those who are in the reverse position i can share why i enjoyed it so much

[nunyabznsbabes]

Katniss is like Lucy Gray this, Katniss is like Sejanus that, and yes fine that's all good and true and lovely but Katniss Everdeen is also a direct parallel to Coriolanus Snow and people NEED to start talking about this because it's driving me crazy.

Think about it: they both grew up poor and deeply vulnerable, losing parents at a very young age, with a matriarchal adult (Katniss' mother and Coriolanus' Grandma'am) who fails to provide for them emotionally and physically. They intimately understand the threat of starvation, even developing with stunted growth because of it, and their narrations in the books share a fixation on food. Throughout their childhoods, both experienced constant fear and suffered a fundamental lack of control over their circumstances. Because of this, they're inherently suspicious of the people around them. They resent feeling indebted to others, especially those who have saved their lives. They're motivated almost entirely by family and deeply connected to their communities. Both are used and manipulated by the Capitol, both are forced to perform to survive and despise every inch of it, both are thrown into the Arena and made to kill. Both have a self-sacrificial, genuinely sweet sister figure acting as their conscience. Peeta and Lucy Gray - performers and love interests with a fundamental kindness and sense of hope about them - fulfill markedly similar roles in their narrative. Both contribute to the development of the future Hunger Games, Snow throughout tbosas and Katniss towards the end of Mockingjay.

It's easy to ignore these similarities because, as mirrors of each other, they are exact opposites. Katniss is from District 12, viewed and treated as less than human; Snow is the cream of the Capitol crop, given the privilege of a name with social weight, an ancestral home, and the opportunity of the Academy despite having no more money than a miner from 12. Katniss has no agency over her life, and responds by being kind whenever she's able, while Snow justifies horrendous evils in order to continue his quest for complete control. Katniss does everything she can to protect her family; Snow does everything he can to protect his family's image as an extension of his own ego. Katniss loves her District and connects with its inhabitants on a meaningful level, but Snow is indifferent at best to his peers - the apparent "superior people" - and only engages with his community for personal gain. Katniss emerges from the Arena horrified at herself and the system, but Snow takes his trauma and turns it into an excuse to perpetuate the violence with himself at the top. Katniss cares for Prim until her death and then snaps at the loss of her little sister, while Snow survives on Tigris' blood, sweat, and tears and then torments and abandons her, presumably because she calls him out on his insanity. Snow actively adds to and popularizes the Hunger Games because of his vendetta against the Districts following his childhood wartime trauma - Katniss briefly agrees to a new Hunger Games in the pursuit of vengeance, but later stops them from happening by killing Coin and choosing a life of peace and privacy. Snow is obsessed with revenge, but Katniss empathizes with the Capitolites and does what she can to keep them from suffering. He exists in a cruel system and selfishly upholds it; she exists in a cruel system and works to dismantle it for the good of her family and community, at great personal cost. And Peeta and Lucy Gray are incredibly similar, but Katniss and Peeta forge a relationship of genuine love and understanding that shines in comparison to Coriolanus' obsessive projection onto Lucy Gray.

So, yeah, Katniss is Lucy Gray haunting Coriolanus. But I bet you anything that eighty-something year old President Snow looks at her, the girl on fire, bright and young and brilliant, emerging from a childhood of starvation with a relentless hunger for success, a talented and charming performer helping her win the Games, and he sees the ghost of his own past. And that's why he's so afraid of her! Because if he sees himself in her, then he's up against his own cunning, his own talent for manipulation, his own charisma, his own genius. He's up against the version of himself that he once wished to be, with the nightmare army of his childhood at her back and her star-crossed lover at her side, spewing Sejanus' truths in his own voice. This isn't to say that Katniss ever achieved the level of power and agency that Coriolanus did during her time with the rebellion, but it is to say that Snow was taken down by what truly terrified him - his own morality, come to finish the job.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Keith Edwards at No Lies Detected:

Fascism doesn’t come for every generation, but it has come for ours.  This is not a fight on the beaches of Normandy, but in our own country. This article begins a series on what opposing Donald Trump and his movement can look like. I hope you will join me as these progress.

[...]

Do not leave. Faced with the might of the United States government aligned against you, you might consider resigning preemptively to avoid the humiliation of inevitable termination. This is counterproductive for at least two reasons: If you leave, you save Trump Administration officials the time and effort of identifying you, which otherwise could have taken months or years. Second, your principled stand would likely only result in your replacement by an unprincipled Trump loyalist. By staying on, you may find yourself helping to implement policies you find hateful, but by refusing to leave, you can ensure that you have some influence on those policies, because then you can...

Delay. Delay. Delay. Waiting out the enemy until he moves on, gives up, or forgets is a time-honored strategy not just among civil servants but also history’s best generals. That email about a proposed rule change to healthcare protections? Bury it in everyone’s inbox by sending it late. A meeting on reviewing the U.S. government’s foreign aid commitments to a region you oversee? Oops, you’ll be out that day! That agency conference your political-appointee boss requested you arrange? Next month didn’t fit everyone’s schedule, so you had to push it to after the new year! Slow-walking is the classic tool in any bureaucrat’s toolbox, and in the next Trump Administration, you can use it in defense of the Constitution.

Be intentionally incompetent. As a career employee, you likely have always had the advantage of knowing your workplace better than your politically appointed overlords. This is perhaps your most potent weapon against Trump. Draft rules unlikely to survive judicial review. Favor lengthy rulemaking or review processes over expedited ones. Complete tasks sequentially rather than in parallel to draw out timelines. Add complexity, stakeholders, and process wherever possible. In short, exploit the knowledge gap you hold over your bosses to diminish, defuse, and defeat their plans.

Leak. Federal employees have the right to report what they believe to be illegal or abusive of authority to their agency’s inspector general (IG) without fear of retaliation. Trump however has singled out IGs for replacement after one played a pivotal role in his first impeachment, so the availability of this option may depend on how politically prominent your agency is. Fortunately, you can anonymously tip prominent news outlets like the New York Times and Washington Post, which boast extensive investigative units and employ rigorous safeguards to protect sources’ identities. You can also seek out sympathetic elected officials, such as Democratic members of the House Oversight Committee, whose main function is investigation of the federal government. (If you choose disclosure, be sure that the information is not classified, the unauthorized disclosure of which carries stiff federal penalties.)

Disregard and refuse. When you have exhausted all other options, you may want selectively to resort to riskier behaviors. These include going behind political appointees’ backs to subvert their activities, say by picking up the phone and countermanding their directions. In extreme cases, you may have outright to refuse direct orders to the appointee’s face. Though such actions seem like a fasttrack to termination, you may still be protected by the fact that overwhelmed political appointees might hesitate to go through the onerous process of finding a politically reliable replacement. Remember, the longer you stay in, the harder you make it for Trump to do what he wants. Know your rights. If the worst happens and your agency moves to terminate you, you can still fight back. There are multiple avenues an employee designated for dismissal can pursue to delay, reduce, or reverse agency penalties against them.1 The beauty of these options is that they can take months or even years to resolve and may be appealed to higher bodies, further extending the process. All the while, you are collecting a salary and occupying a full-time equivalent (FTE) position that your agency can’t fill until you finally depart. (This is not legal advice. If you find yourself in this situation, please seek a lawyer.)

Keith Edwards writes in his No Lies Detected Substack on how civil servants can show resistance to the tyrannical Trump 2.0 Regime from within.

[holybibly]

If there's anything in this world that can inspire me more than MATZ, let me know.

In the meantime, unholy thoughts of the day - Luxurious married alpha-couple MATZ are seeking a pretty virgin omega to date.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been together for a long time—powerful, hot, filthy rich—they were an incredibly sexy and powerful couple. It was clear to anyone who had ever been in front of them that they were madly in love with each other. But in their perfect world, there was one big but: they couldn't fuck each other. Because they were both alphas, their animal's natural instincts would go into overdrive every time things started to get hot and heavy. Kissing, touching, fucking—it didn't matter; they were ready to rip each other's throats out. So they were always on the lookout for the perfect little Omega they could fuck at the same time and keep around like a little sugar thing.

Omega matchmaking services have become very popular recently, so they decided to try their luck with one of the new luxury agencies. They look at over a hundred Omegas but still can't find one that meets their high standards and exquisite tastes. Seonghwa has always been very fussy, especially when it comes to the slime of his Omega. He loves getting drunk on pussy, and when he sticks his face in someone's pussy, he wants nothing but the best on his tongue.

Whether it was your uncharacteristic Omega taste of strawberry liqueur or your complete inexperience with sex, you didn't know, but either way, you weren't the Alphas' first choice. That was until the MATZs set their sights on you.

You found it hard to believe that such a strong and sexy pair would choose you for a date; it was both intriguing and unnerving.

Like all the Omegas before you, you have been invited to a private viewing at their luxurious nightclub. It's a very private and intimate place, and the room you've been taken to is velvet-lined and dimly lit, creating a highly sexual atmosphere, and to be honest, it bothers you a little, but not as much as the gorgeous couple in front of you.

The taller Alpha, Seonghwa, is sitting comfortably on the lap of the second Alpha, who is smiling predatorily and looking at you with dark eyes. As you can see from the profile the agency provided you, it is Hongjoong. A godlike, refined Alpha lazily caresses his partner's bare chest as he gives you seductive siren eyes, while the tip of his tongue slowly slides between his sensually parted lips.

They're both dressed in expensive fur coats and designer clothes, and you're wearing a simple dress and plain cotton panties, and as you watch, you can't help but wonder why they chose you. You hear the door lock behind you, leaving you alone with MATZ.

You don't know what to do, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, clutching the hem of your dress.

Seonghwa gets up from Hongjoong's lap and slowly walks towards you like a huge cat of prey, circling you and devouring you with his eyes. He's so amazing, and you can clearly feel his dominating and sexual energy.

You squeal loudly as his lips press against your ear and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You almost drown in the softest, most luxurious fur of his furcoat as your back is pressed against his chest.

"This is what's going to happen, sweetheart; I'm going to kneel in front of you, lift up that ugly dress, and run my tongue all over your cunt and if I don't like the taste of you, you're going to get the hell out of here. I like pussy, I like to lick and suck tight, sweet holes, and I only want to fuck the sweetest, stickiest, slipperiest cunt. Do you understand me?"

You nod shyly, afraid to say a word. Your condition amuses the other Alpha, who is currently lounging on the velvet couch like a king.

"Don't make that sweet expression, angel; it only makes me want to fuck your pretty throat. And honestly, I hope you will fulfil Hwa's wishes so that I can do that.".

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 2

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

You were in the middle of packing, taking photos off the walls and putting them away in boxes, piles of clothes littered on the floor based on whether you were taking them or donating.

"Didn't realise we weren't close enough, eh?" Bakugou said, arms crossed leaning against the wall of your room.

Startled you looked at him clutching the photos close to your chest."Knock at least Katsuki, you scared the shit out of me." You grumbled as you regained composure and turned back to the task at hand. Partially to get it done, mostly to avoid Bakugou's gaze while you had this unavoidable confrontation.

You should have told him you were moving out, it was a rational thing, you were friends infact best friends, had seen each other at worst, dealt with it too. Should have had an adult conversation about it. But what would have you said "Hey! Katsuki I am moving out because I am in love with you but you have a girlfriend and the sole thought of her makes me sick" yeah not a good argument or maybe evening worst you would just end up crying sobbing pathetically while pointing out you were there for him more but that's not how it works, you suppose. He deserves happiness, and you are glad he found it. You just wanted to find yours too.

"Haruki, your assistant, let it slip that you are moving", Bakugou snarled, nostrils flaring, fists tightening, tell-tale signs that he is not mad but disheartened.

"I was going to tell you", you defended, turning to face him.

"When? huh, when were you going to tell me?", He hissed "When everything was packed, and you had to bid farewell like some sort of formality?", He continued ,moving towards you, for the first time locking eyes and seeing the red-rimmed, swollen eyes your cheeks were sunken too. "What happened, peanut?", He questioned, pulling the photos from your hand and setting the to the side. "Did I do something? I'll fix it, fucks sake talk to me, tell what was it that made you run I'll fix it", He cupped your face and made you look at him.

"I don't think you can fix this one, Suki", you murmured, voice almost catching in your throat because you'll lose him, you'll lose his friendship. For a moment you wished you weren't in love with him, that you could be normal around him, could be a part of his life, let him be a part of yours. But, you had to fall in love with him, ruin whatever ever you had.

"This new apartment is closer to my agency, plus how long do we go about living here, Suki?", you said before woefully pulling yourself away from him, choosing to pack up remaining of things.

"You should have said something, I deserve to at least know, you know? I go to work and your assistant, fucking Haruki, is looking for couches for you.", He said bitterly,"He knew, he was informed, he was fucking involved, and I wasn't, aren't we close? is that fucker closer to you, huh tell me?" He gritted out.

"If you were any less busy with your fucking girlfriend, then maybe you would have helped me," you yelled, words almost getting clogged in your throat, anger finally taking over.

Both of you stare wide eyed at each other, truth finally out, you behaviour making sense to Bakugou, you can see the wheels turning in his head.

He moved closer to you, reaching out, but you pull away like it burns because if you were being honest it does, Bakugou winces at you withdrawal. Your anger, your distance, you silence making sense you heart finally bared open in front of him.

"If you can't tell me what I want to hear then you shouldn't say anything",you croaked, knowing that you are being selfish,"I want a confession Suki and not consolation", you finalized.

Bakugou looked at you before he left the room, perhaps you already knew his decision but that didn't make your heart hurt any less.

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

[court-jobi]

Tagalong

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @toshiimura))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (retired by injury pro-hero fem!reader)

Words: 2.6K

Rating: T (18+ touches later on, to be safe~)

Warnings: Interrupted first time, heavy petting, established relationship, sharing a bed, honestly just Izuku in love and fluffy times commence in a hotel room.

Summary:

Joining Midoriya Sensei on his work trip -and yes, even sharing a bed for the first time- is medicine for you. The exchange of your passions has -and continues to be- an endless source of healing as you navigate life post-hero work. Each night away, you've danced into a settled calm with him; learning the rhythm of his habits. His sounds, his silences. When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way.

A/N: give me my sweet, simpering Deku, or give me death. Also by the way, yall are the best readers out there, thank you so much for all the love for my lil stories!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Life post-hero work was an adjustment for you… but you were starting to really get into the perks.

The lack of daily physical hardship holds the top spot on your list. PT? You can handle that on a rolling basis– the worst is behind you, and due to what you put yourself through which resulted in your injury, you’re out of official hero work for the foreseeable future- and in a way, grateful for the break on your muscles. You still retain your quirk, but can enjoy its thrills on a more recreational basis– your sweet boyfriend has even helped your healing by way of gentle exercises to keep things moving properly and get life manageable for you. 

Next would be the diet. You could certainly dip back into your baking hobby guilt-free now. You couldn’t get away from the hero world entirely -nor did you want to… but being able to settle into an agency office with an hourly job was also an incredible blessing. Late nights here and there were inevitable, but on the whole, you were able to greet and end your days with a steadiness of routine and safety.

Meeting Izuku Midoriya was the icing on your early retirement cake. Where you were tenderly finding your footing off the hero charts, Izuku held your hand to keep you upright. He didn’t lead or pull back on you– just came alongside you, so you didn’t fall too hard on the knees of self-doubt. He’s always so good like that. He knows your path because he himself shares it, and what a thing of fate that is.

New to you now though, is the general scope of free time you have. Not a forced flexibility due to the demand asked of an on-call hero, but you have paid time off. You have flex hours. You can work from home, if you so choose– so when you get the call that Izuku has been asked to hold a spot at the Sports Festival as the lead commentator, you are over the moon that you can answer with a wholehearted ‘yes’ when he asks you to come with him.

As if he’d be anything short of ecstatic, you truly believe the job was made for him. He’s got books upon books of hero research written by hand, and is essentially a walking Brittanica for Japan’s up and coming heroes, because of course he watches every other school’s sports fests in his free time so that his class can be the most prepared. Taking the role Present Mic once held when he was a student is a full-circle moment, and it's pretty precious seeing him in it. 

From day one, he’s a master of his craft, and from the couch you share in the observation deck with his co-teacher, Aizawa, you’re beyond impressed. You honestly wouldn’t be able to tell what department he was aligned with; he’s observant and complimentary of every students’ moves. You asked the pro hero hero beside you if this was the case when Izuku was younger, and he merely offered a sleepy,

“Intolerably, yes.”

But you see the lift of his cheek against his eyepatch and know that he’s secretly proud. 

The Sports Festival spreads over the course of a week now, as the culture surrounding the events available for support students to engage in has increased- to Izuku’s pride and joy. The training and feats of the heroes wouldn’t be possible without the other side of the coin, so he’s just as enthusiastic to hype up the developments of those courses as well. 

Watching your sweet Izuku -catching his eye when he looks back over to you and silently ushers you over to come watch an anticipated match-up of his kids off and on- is medicine for you. This entire exchange of passions has, and continues to be, a source of joy for you and is a treasured part of doing life with him. On that note, the event being held away from your district also grants you extended time to spend together that you normally wouldn’t, given the difference in your professional lives. Here, you’re locked in to five days and four nights of perfectly synced time– something you’ve not been able to do up to this point in your relationship.

Falling asleep and waking up together? This is the best thing ever.

On the first night, it hits your adorably flustered boyfriend that you’d indeed be sharing a room- and bed. That arrangement was something you’d registered the moment he’d asked you and were assuming he’d mentally (and spiritually) prepared for; but evidently it faced him the moment he stepped up to the counter to check in that Nezu had arranged you both to be together by default in the hotel block. 

But rather than falling on the trope of taking the armchair or sleeping on the ground like a middle school nervous nelly, Izuku was shy about it at first… but eager for the chance. The secret part of him finally let out some boyish excitement to find a bed big enough for you to actually share. You’d learned here that you both can spoon like you do on the couch, but you have so much room now. On both your parts, you’re a bit giggly and stiff at first- but settle in sweetly for the most comfortable night of your life.

By the second night, you both scoot into your room and -after a day of dancing around each other at more and more events- you’d be heard from the hallway: jumping into his arms and tackling him to the bed, filled with giggles and lots of kissing until you tangle up more willingly to sleep.

Night three, you’d both stayed out longer than you intended; catching up with some of the other instructors, which turned into essentially a repeat of the night you met. You take to talking up a storm on one of the hotel patios in a nerdy exchange of info-dumping and story-swapping that continues for almost three hours. You basically collapsed into bed the instant you got back, not even brushing your teeth out of exhaustion. Then by your fourth, you both are still so tired from the late night before and you flop on the bed, still in the sun-warmed clothes you set out in that morning.

It's so nice to be held by him- and it's torture to then look back up at each other. There’s definitely a softness found in Izuku’s face -as always, when it comes to your perfectly freckled sweetheart- but also something deep and personal. You want to ask him to shower together so badly and get rid of the day together- anything to add to this closeness you’ve been tiptoe-ing through all week. Worry over pushing him when he’s essentially on the clock keeps you from asking. This time, you still go about your rituals separately, only when you get out, you stay in a towel and shorts instead of full dressing down for bed.

When you're at the in-suite mirror doing your expedited, travel-sized skincare routine and Izuku stops by after he's out of the bathroom, he hesitates mid-step from trying to duck around you– and comes close, holds you by the middle. He stands shirtless behind you for the first time, showing you the scarring he carries in its fullest- no more tanks or undershirts hiding the worst from you. 

You’re as they say in the movies- incandescently happy.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. 

“You feel so good,” you answer. “Wanna go lay down?”

When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way. No sense in holding this darn towel up anymore, you simply turn in his arms, drop it, and kiss his surprise away with your reach up to his neck for a kiss. Your first of many, on this last night you could be wrapped up in your incredible boyfriend's arms with nothing but tender intentions on your mind.

Neither of you see a strong need for too many clothes under the sheets for this little foray into skin-to-skin contact, and enjoy a restorative makeout session. He's marked you up a bit, too, by all the harsh kissing he tends to do towards you (you low-key love this, since ‘that’s what makeup’s for’), and you especially appreciate how he plays with you perched in this arrangement.

You’re the first girl he's ever had topless in his reach– which is obvious from how he holds you in his lap nuzzling at your chest,

"Wow, y'r the moss'beautiful woman i'vever seen~"

From your previous talks of dalliances, you proudly keen over him, "I think I'm the only naked woman you've ever seen."

"-I've seen naked women."

You glance back to him, humored but flat, "Who."

Those green doe eyes flicker back up at you, oddly innocent as he quickly names his former classmate, who you’ve commonly heard referred to as Yaomomo, 

“Creati?” he tries to jog your memory, “i-it's part of her quirk, I didn't ev’r mean to look..."

Playfully suspicious, you test him, "Never had a feel?"

"I mean,” Izuku sharpens up a little to answer clearly, “She fell on me once, over in one of the training centers- and I wasn't gonna let her hit or head on something.."

"So a 'strategic catch'. Is that what we're calling it?" You sway your chest in front of him, feeling up his own, “I’m a horribly jealous creature, as you well know.”

He sinks and nuzzles gently at your pushed up chest- by his desire for lift. You’re playing with his painfully polite nature, of course- nothing but secure of your place with him.

"Not even once. Promise." 

Izuku lays a little kiss on your freshly cleaned skin where your heart lies under the surface, and ends up moaning at how soft it is- and so, keeps peppering kisses to your delight, "Oh wow... Oh wow, you're soft."

His name leaves you in an unsteady sigh as you’ve been scratching through his hair until it starts feeling so sharp and heady that you grip onto his neck in need of more support.

He's working on some passes with his tongue around your nipple when he whisper-sighs up to you, 

"mmmm don't stop doing tha'..."

So you play with his hair at his request, and he adores every bit of you that’s in reach: chin to cheek to neck while being the most gently vocal you've ever heard him.

The minute you rolled your barely clothed hips up on his lap just once, he split his attention from holding your waist to him to smoothing over your thigh to encourage the movement.

He started a slinking lean as he did so, losing his absolute mind watching you in a daze, before something dull hit your window - followed by a kid’s call of 'Sorry!!' . You siphon all your attention at the noise in a wide-eyed look that matches his.

Sweetly enough, you noted how fast Izuku held you at the sound, like he was going into strict ‘protect’ mode at the clash of a frisbee.

But, out of danger and out of breath, Izuku simply fell back and palmed his face.

"ughhbyou feel'so good... Mdizzy."

The heat you’d felt simmering in you has died at the interruption, but your fondness sure hasn’t.

You giggled, lowering into his chest and gripping the covers over your shoulders to warm you up, "Good dizzy?"

Even with an arm over his eye, your boy chuckled brilliantly, 

"Very good dizzy, hon’. Whew. We uh– we better stop before they start bangin’ on the door next."

You carded through his hair more, self-assured he was still just as taken by you despite the hard stop. How he kept you to him while shuffling the covers over you both was proof he didn’t want you going anywhere. Once settled, he felt he could focus again and brushed your hair back for attention,

"Hi there, handsome~"

"h-hi~" Izuku echoed.

You kissed again, a good deal calmer at first, but growing like a steady fire. Lips roaming, claiming, and keeping you ever closer. Comfort and reclaimed eagerness tipped you over by his strong guiding hand, all in favor to continue to mouth along your clavicle again.

Then, at the first sound of your addictive moans, he detached- forehead to your sternum, watching the rise and fall of your sweet belly beneath him.

"Ahh..” Izuku’s little war with himself was adorable, “w-we should stop. For real. I can’t- that’d be mean."

“You said that,” you answer with mirth, “but I don’t think ‘Little Deku’ agrees~”

Izuku wheezes out your first, middle, last and retired hero title to the point of coughing before you take it easy on him. Poor, desperate thing, brought low by little tease.

You chuffed against his stroke of nerves kindly. 

"Yes we should, if you say so," You snaked a hand through his hair, "Thank the Maker we don't have to second guess the chemistry department, huh?"

Izuku laughed brightly, slotting himself atop you, between the legs so you didn't have to feel how semi-hard he was. Snuggling back down, your heartbeats held their own conversation, content to cool to a reasonable temperature and slow things down, together.

"I'm so glad you came here with me." Izuku spoke softly to your neck, "This time with you really does me so much good."

And you really have enjoyed it. Getting to see firsthand the place where much of his proving of himself started, this event forged a lot of bonds with the close friends he still has to this day. 

"I'm glad I did too," You kissed the hairline within reach and simply laid comforting scratches along his back. "It's gonna be hell to go back."

"You don't wanna go back to work?"

You threw pity into your voice, "I don't wanna give up this glorified sleepover, no."

You don’t mean just getting carried away with thin walls and thinner restraint. You mean the intimacy that getting out of town sometimes offers in a way nothing else would. The week has made you softer, more in tune to the rhythm of Izuku’s habits. His sounds, his silences. 

The dampened shyness you hold thinking about it floats across him, so he laid back onto your arm to look up at you, 

"We don't have to. We can still have them~"

"Yeah?" You wonder how, earnestly, and he smiles in kind.

"Yeah!” his answer radiates nothing but pure sunshine, “Whenever you want! I'll come over, and we'll cook, and have podcast nights and snuggle, and... and.."

He’s got a look now- one that teeters along the line of flirty and unsure.

"Snuggle?" you finish for him mercifully.

"Y-yeah."

"Vocal snuggles?"

"Stop it," Izuku hid in your shoulder, "don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you~" you turned and kissed his blushing cheeks, rubbing his shoulder slowly. "No more than I'm making fun of myself for sounding like a wonton Victorian who just caught sight of an ankle for the first time."

His laughter betrays how offended he is at the idea, "Stoooop…"

"Mmmm, I don't think I will!"

Time to take things slow.. that might top your list now. If it means more nights with your hero draped in your arms, then the promise of time spent under his attention beats out any other remedy you’ve found so far. 

[alexwilltellyouthings]

I am a Charles Rowland slut okay and this is why I can say how much he fucking annoys me with his whole act towards Crystal in the beginning. Listen

He's such a teenage boy about it, which is annoying already- you know when your friend has a new crush and then suddenly everything is about the crush? You'll at least roll your eyes at that, it can get frustrating really fast.

But THEN. BUT THEN

Since he is not, in fact, a normal teenager as much as he wants to pretend he is, he's actively bringing a stranger into the agency which is not only his and Edwin's business but also their home.

(this has nothing on Crystal btw. She has no memories or fucks to give. She's totally valid for going along with whatever happens)

Imagine you share a house with your best friend and they suddenly drop someone on the couch and announce the person is staying. What the fuck.

AND TO MAKE THINGS WORSE, Charles spends days if not weeks choosing Crystal's side in almost every argument. When he says he agrees with Edwin on something he even goes "I know, I know" and rolls his eyes like he hasn't been with Edwin for 30 fucking years agreeing on a bunch of things.

(It's funny how then, in episode 6, when he doesn't want to take up Monty's case, he thinks Edwin will agree with him. Hah. How the turn tables, etc)

It bothers me so much and it has nothing to do with the romantic part of it, but with the fact Charles is just not being a good friend. It's no wonder Edwin is being such a bitch, although he too is missing the mark and letting it all out on Crystal who is literally just there.

Anyway. I love Charles with all my heart and that's why I reflect on his flaws and shitty behaviors too. And everything turned out well in the end, yeah, yeah, but ugh dude c'monnnnn

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - 29 April 2024

1. Net neutrality rules restored by US agency

The U.S. Federal Communications Commission voted 3-2 on Thursday to reinstate landmark net neutrality rules and reassume regulatory oversight of broadband internet rescinded under former President Donald Trump.

2. Airlines required to refund passengers for canceled, delayed flights

DOT will also require airlines to give cash refunds if your bags are lost and not delivered within 12 hours.

The refunds must be issued within seven days, according to the new DOT rules, and must be in cash unless the passenger chooses another form of compensation. Airlines can no longer issue refunds in forms of vouchers or credits when consumers are entitled to receive cash.

3. How new mosquito nets averted 13 million malaria cases

Compared to standard nets, the introduction of 56 million state-of-the-art mosquito nets in 17 countries across sub-Saharan Africa averted an estimated 13 million malaria cases and 24,600 deaths. The New Nets Project, an initiative funded by Unitaid and the Global Fund and led by the Innovative Vector Control Consortium (IVCC), piloted the use of dual-insecticide nets in malaria-endemic countries between 2019 and 2022 to address the growing threat of insecticide resistance.

4. Germany has installed over 400,000 ‘solar balconies’

This new wave of solar producers aren’t just getting cheap electricity, they’re also participating in the energy transition.

More than 400,000 plug-in solar systems have been installed in Germany, most of them taking up a seamless spot on people’s balconies.

5. Voyager-1 sends readable data again from deep space

The US space agency says its Voyager-1 probe is once again sending usable information back to Earth after months of spouting gibberish.

The 46-year-old Nasa spacecraft is humanity's most distant object.

6. Missing cat found after 5 years makes 2,000-km journey home

Five years after it ran out the door, a lost cat was returned to a couple in Nevada after it was found thousands of kilometres away. The couple are praising the cat’s microchip for helping reunite them.

7. Restoring sight is possible now with optogenetics

Max Hodak's startup, Science, is developing gene therapy solutions to restore vision for individuals with macular degeneration and similar conditions. The Science Eye utilizes optogenetics, injecting opsins into the eye to enhance light sensitivity in retinal cells.

Clinical trials and advancements in optogenetics are showing promising results, with the potential to significantly improve vision for those affected by retinal diseases.

---

That's it for this week :)

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[umemiyan]

𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨𝖨

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ･ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (nsfw future chapters likely) / an interpretation of "came back wrong" gojo (he's not necessarily wrong, just different) / yandere!gojo vibes / disabled-coded gojo with reader acting as caretaker; it's essentially a learning curve for everybody involved / some dubcon physical affection moments, but nothing serious / 3.4k words

well... we have made it to a second chapter!! this overall idea just really resonated with me, and after learning how it affected others as well, i just knew i had to do my best to keep it going. this is the first ever "part 2" of anything i've ever written, so i beg for just a shred of mercy! i'm trying my best, and thank you to everyone who has said kind things about this story so far. i hope you enjoy <3

The winter air is brisk and a little volatile, but you feel blessed to have it whirl past your skin—even more blessed to watch Satoru’s flesh prickle at the sensation. Alive.

You had done your best to rummage through the expanse of his closet to find a suitable coat for him to wear—one that would cut the chill of an afternoon breeze when it inevitably brushed across his body. January could be unforgiving at times—the harshest of winter moths. You wondered how cold death must’ve felt.

“Satoru, where are your shoes?” You inquired, voice muffled in his closet as you sifted through garments, multitasking in an attempt to compose an outfit for him.

He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on your movements as they often were, mind turning at your question for a moment. He stood then, paced towards the shoe rack that stood outside the closet door, and reached gently for one of your busied hands. Satoru points your fingers towards the collection of shoes.

You paused your movements, eyes curious as they followed his guidance before landing upon their intended target. “Oh, that’s right,” you said with a small shake of your head, bearing a self-defeating smile and feeling rather silly for your oversight. 

It was a challenge to become acquainted with someone else’s home amidst everything else, responsibilities stacking upon responsibilities. However, Satoru continued to prove that he could recall more than you initially thought, that he could act as your guiding light when called upon. A little ironic, you think. A little pathetic, too? No, you are human, after all. Just as he is.

He smiled in return. You swore there was even a hint of a familiar light-hearted, teasing glimmer in his eye, unless you were seeing things.

(You weren’t.)

For once, you are grateful for the rather serene nature of the school’s grounds as you stroll across them side-by-side with him, much like in days from a not-so-distant past. The remaining fallen leaves from the trees dressing the mountains rustle with the wind, colored by the touch of death but still beautiful all the same, just like something else you know.

“We can always go back if it gets too cold,” you say as a reminder to Satoru of his agency, his home on campus easy to circle back to should you take the notion. You fear he might choose to freeze himself into another early grave if that’s what you wished, and you can’t fathom the idea of making him suffer simply because he thinks it pleases you to do so. Your happiness is somehow his, and although this is a new quality you have yet to decipher, there’s still something about it that strikes you as indulgent and rather characteristic of a gluttonous Satoru Gojo.

He doesn’t respond, gaze flitting across his surroundings as he walks, nerve endings and six eyes absorbing a litany of information. A silent Satoru used to be a rare occurrence but is now the default, the air somehow punctured by the lack of his voice riding along it. However, his presence is still stark, his being brimming with energy as if to make up for the words he can no longer speak. 

Unbeknownst to you, he communicates with you not only with his physical body, but with his feelings, too—waves of energy that he projects outward on instinct, hoping you’ll have the means to grasp what he is trying to say even if he isn’t always sure what it is. It has been rather unsynchronized and sloppy thus far, but with each day that passes, your ability to hear him grows.

You can hear him now even with the only sounds being the breeze rushing in your ears and leaves crunching beneath the soles of shoes. There is something somber about him, more than usual, mixed with that same sense of being lost in a world that feels brand new. 

All of it is familiar to Satoru on a physical level—the paths, the buildings, the foliage—but what prickles his mind is attempting to piece together the myriad of strange feelings that arise as he is faced with more and more reminders of a past that he can’t fully recall. 

It’s as though the memories are trying to surface but can’t quite fuse into something tangible, something concrete, like when you feel a word forming just at the tip of your tongue but it never arrives. He can sense them deeply in his body, almost experience a brief image flashing like lightning through his mind before it disappears. Satoru’s frustration is palpable, and he reaches for your hand.

Icy-cold fingers nipped by winter intertwine with yours, tethering him in place as his fractured mind aches with the burden of obscurity. His physical affection is new to you, but you allow it—welcome it, even. As much as the earnest displays contrast with his previous tiptoeing around connection, it is yet another thing you can’t bear to turn down, not after everything that’s happened. 

You hope it isn’t simply guilt of all things compelling you to accommodate him, but wouldn’t it be equally bad to do it for selfish reasons? Could one misconstrue it as taking advantage, of feeding off his need to satisfy some part of you that had always wanted him?

The various implications make your head swim with conflict, so you force yourself to shut them down for the time being. Satoru is only holding your hand, nothing more, at least for the moment. There had of course been instances of his lips pecking against your own, wandering down to your neck, his hand settling on your waist as if to draw you closer… but you’d always managed to divert his attention in one way or another, severing the connection before either of you could become too engrossed in it. He never seemed overly perturbed to shift direction, but you couldn’t help but wonder just how long his patience might last, and if you’d be able to figure out what you even were to him before then.

Needless to say, nothing could have ever prepared you for something like this. What drives you forward more than anything is your contentment with the fact that he’s here walking the earth with you, as whole as he can be after having been stolen from the arms of death. And despite the abundance of challenges, part of you can’t help but feel special for being chosen to face them.

When your feet bring you near the school’s entrance, gates opening way for a path down the mountain, Satoru stops dead in his tracks, alert like an animal that’s suddenly caught a scent. His grip on your hand tightens, heart plummeting into his stomach as something takes hold of him, something he likely couldn’t put into words even if he had the ability to speak.

You turn to check over him with your gaze, concern etched upon your features at the immediate change of pace. “Satoru…?” you call softly, yearning for a chance to be able to peek into his mind. All you can do is feel the chill of his demeanor.

His name drifting upon your voice earns a split second of his attention, but he is, for once, captivated by something else.

Pierced gut. Blocked throat. Summer sun and the sounds of buzzing.

It’s a memory that lives in his body but not his conscious mind, an instinct telling him to heed the surroundings for a threat that once was. He relives it with a rapid heartbeat, knows it bears importance, but he can only recall shreds of information that don’t merge together to form a full picture. He simmers in mounting frustration.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Boiling blood—the brink of death.

Satoru turns on a dime and faces a figure in the distance, on guard and brimming with a sort of defensiveness you’d never quite seen before, at least not coming from him. Muscles rigid, he squeezes your upper arm as if to warn you, to keep you close, his extraordinary senses absorbing information quicker than you can even pivot to see what it is he’s looking at.

From around the corner of a building emerges Megumi, clad in warm clothes and a mellow disposition. His distinctly unruly hair makes it easy to identify him even from where he appears down the path, hands in his pockets as he strolls towards you upon recognition. 

Satoru’s mind runs through calculations as the young student approaches, attempting to distinguish and fill gaps and create something he can take hold of as a semblance of fact.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Something… different? 

Megumi’s cursed energy burns in a recognizable way, striking Satoru as peculiar as he instinctively studies it with the six eyes. But it makes sense to him—it’s familiar, even if he struggles to trust it in full. This is someone he hasn’t met since his awakening, but someone his eyes have certainly seen before.

You can sense the fear radiating off Satoru’s being and into yours, the presence of someone other than you agitating his already troubled state. You must act.

“Look, it’s Megumi,” you say softly with an encouraging smile, encasing his hand with your palm and hoping that your pleasant reaction takes the edge off. Satoru is reluctant to avert his gaze, but does so anyway, blue darting in your direction to witness the happiness written in your features. You appear to trust this person, and he trusts you, so despite the pounding in his chest, the sorcerer relaxes his grip.

You guide Satoru to take a few steps forward with you to meet Megumi as he draws nearer, a tired but welcoming smile turning your lips upward to greet him. It’s nice to see the boy alive and well in the aftermath of his own debacle—or at least as well as someone could possibly be. You wish there had been something more you could’ve done to help him recover, but it was known to many that you happened to have your hands full at the moment. Hopefully he will understand.

“Hey,” Megumi utters quietly, eyes scanning over your face and then his teacher’s, trying to briefly assess your individual states.

“Hi, Megumi,” you respond, appraising him yourself. He seems to be all in one piece, which you had been informed of, but had yet to see yourself. It’s nice to have visual confirmation. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he replies quickly, flatly, minimizing himself as usual. His voice is more sincere when inquiring about your wellbeing. “And you?”

You grin, finding a way to sum up your experience without overwhelming him. “Hanging in there,” you muse with a breathy chuckle. There’s no use in worrying him with all the details of Gojo’s current condition and how it has subsequently flipped your world upside down, but Megumi is shrewd, and you’re sure he can come to some sort of conclusion, especially when briefed by the others who have eyes on the situation.

Megumi awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck, skirting around vulnerability and concern as his next question arises. “Gojo-sensei… how are you doing?”

Satoru has been silent all the while, of course, but sorting through every detail while you and his former student exchange pleasantries. Neurons fire, rewiring frazzled connections, giving him a glimpse at how this boy is not the same as the one he bears a resemblance to.

Megumi isn’t sure what sort of response to expect; in fact, he feels silly for expecting one at all, posing a question that he’s fairly certain can’t be answered directly. But how else was he meant to conduct himself in such an interaction, to show that he cares? To speak as if Gojo weren’t even there would feel like even more of an insult.

You’re caught in the middle, watching Satoru’s face and seeing the gears turning in his head. “I think we’re all just… learning how to adjust to things, y’know?” you reply with a rather vacant smile, turning back to Megumi who understands your subtext with ease. Rather than speak for Satoru, you’ve made a blanket statement to provide just the slightest bit of feedback, and Megumi is well aware.

The student nods his head with a short hum of acknowledgment, doing his best to see his mentor in this new light—one he never thought would be possible, not when it came to someone who had always claimed to be so strong. But at least there is a light at all.

The wind tosses leaves around between the three of you, filling the silence with its quiet whispers. You wish there was more to be said. You wish you had a solid grasp of how well Satoru really was doing.

“I think Ieiri said she wanted to see you soon,” Megumi states, acting as a courier, trying to fill the space with words.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ve been in touch. We’re actually meant to meet up with her tomorrow.” 

Shoko, while expectedly rather removed, had been one of your primary contacts and supports thus far, apart from Ijichi who shouldered the burden of several essential tasks you hadn’t been able to complete on your own. You felt guilty for sending him out for groceries and back to your apartment for extra sets of clothes, but how else would you manage to make it by? Leaving Satoru alone or in the care of someone else wasn’t currently an option, and taking him outside the school grounds didn’t sound like an optimal idea either at the present moment. So you had to make do in the meantime, and you were truly grateful for the help, but you couldn’t help but hope that things would eventually fall into place. Maybe Shoko would have answers.

“That’s good,” Megumi replies with a sparkle of hope in his tone, then reluctantly adds, “and, uh… just let me know if I can do anything to help, okay?”

You respond to his gesture with a warm smile. “Thank you, Megumi. That’s very kind.” You don’t have immediate plans for taking the young man up on his offer, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. He deserves to rest and seek peace, not fight any more battles for the sake of others.

A twinge of pink colors the apples of Megumi’s cheeks, and he recedes into the scarf wrapped around his neck, unused to accepting grace from others without feeling inclined to quarrel about it. He is at a loss for words, somewhat eager to make his escape before the vulnerability has the chance to further consume his dignity. You take that as something of a cue.

“Well, we—” you start, preparing to make a closing statement and depart, before being interrupted by a sudden movement to your left—Satoru, breaking free from his fixed state to perform a familiar gesture.

As if finally making a connection, he grins and mimics the Ten Shadows hand configuration for summoning the Divine Dogs, clapping his palms together and examining Megumi’s reaction with ardor. The student is startled out of his mild embarrassment, somewhat baffled by the sudden communication attempt and the implication that his mentor perhaps actually remembers who he is. It’s a pleasant surprise to you both, and a moment or two is required for it to sink in.

Your face lights up with glee, heart warmed by the simple action in a way that’s difficult to express. Megumi appears to be in a similar boat—taken aback, but ultimately stricken with joy.

A modest smile creeps upon Megumi’s lips as he softly mirrors the motion with his own hands, acknowledging Gojo’s revelation. “Yeah…” he says, voice faint but pleased. “Divine Dogs.”

Every brief glimpse into Satoru’s thoughts feels like a blessing, and this is certainly no exception. It’s refreshing to watch him have a moment of sincere connection with someone other than yourself, and it leaves you glowing with hope for the future as you bid Megumi farewell and make your way back home.

“Head back, Satoru.”

Water splashes into the bathtub as Satoru cranes his neck to peer up at the ceiling as per your request, a cup full of liquid streaming over his hair and carrying shampoo suds along with it.

After returning from your walk, you’d prepared something for dinner and eventually urged Satoru into the tub for a bath before bed—yet another activity that seemed to get a little easier every time you did it.

Figuring out how to get him to bathe had initially been quite the challenge, but you had managed to devise a method that had gotten the job done quite well thus far. He might’ve looked rather awkward sitting cramped in the shallow bath with a pair of swimming trunks on while you rinsed him with an old plastic cup you’d excavated from a cabinet, but it was the most effective way to get him clean and preserve both your dignities while doing it. Though you were the only one who seemed to be concerned with such things.

Satoru blinks when a few soapy droplets backslide into one of his eyes, causing him to squint, scrunch, and rub it with his fingers until the uncomfortable sensation eases. He looks at you, almost as if to say, “Hey! That burns!”

You chuckle and shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “That’s why you’re supposed to close your eyes, goober.”

He wants to submerge in a pout, but your playfulness rids him of the inclination. Satoru instead shifts his focus to the beauty of your frame perched upon the edge of the tub, a beacon of divinity as you cleanse him with care and devotion. He takes the notion to express an inkling of gratitude by leaning forward and placing a kiss against your lips, lukewarm water rippling around him as it gradually cools.

You’re somewhat stiff and unresponsive, the sudden gesture catching you by surprise as it usually does, but you don’t chastise him for it; in fact, it takes a certain level of concentration for you to avoid letting your thoughts linger on his current state: hair slicked back; flesh exposed and glistening with droplets of water; lips warm, wet, and eager for reciprocation…

Your mouth receives his but does not encourage him for more than a split second, pulling back gently from his advance until you can see Satoru shiver as the water chills his body. His eyes are glued to your face, waiting for a reaction as you prepare to make one more pass over his hair with the cup to see that he is fully rinsed, this time using your hand to shield his eyes from any backflow (and from your expression, which is surely indicative of your now rapid heartbeat).

The action is enough to distract him for the moment, but Satoru is still on edge, teeming with infatuation and need. He is unsatisfied with your response—or lack thereof—and is frustrated with his inability to express it, but your hands carefully wiping drops of water from his face act as a temporary soothing agent.

“Alright, let’s get dried off and ready for bed,” you say, standing to fetch his towel from the rack and bring it back to him before reaching down to trigger the tub to drain. “We’re going to talk to Shoko tomorrow.”

Satoru is less concerned with the meaning of your words than he is with how lovely you sound while saying them. He is once again caught in your spell, entranced by the need to be closer but settling for the scraps that you give him—for now.

You aren’t convinced of his comprehension of what you say, but nevertheless, you use the sweetened tone to deflect from the overwhelm of watching him stand and observe your every move as you help to dry his chiseled body. Satoru is tall and looming, scarred in the midriff, but compliant with your ministrations; however, his easygoing nature doesn’t keep your hands from wanting to shake against the towel that repeatedly caresses his physical beauty. You wish you could torch every thought in your mind, switch your brain off to preserve the strength and sanity that remains. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to remain steadfast and maintain this cycle of “temporaries” until something eventually changes. And what if it never does?

You suppose the only thing you can do for now is try your best and wait and see what the future holds. It certainly can’t be any worse than what you’ve already been through, especially now that Satoru is by your side once more. That is something you’ve realized you wouldn’t trade for anything.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BRIDE *  assorted dialogue from the book by ali hazelwood, some lines reworked to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary

every second, i want you too much, and every second, i'm on the verge of wanting you more.

you're not a problem, [name]. you're a privilege.

of all the good things i've felt in my fucking life, you are the best.

you think, but you don't know.

i would take anything you chose to give me.

i would take your problems, your gifts, your moods, your passions, your jokes, your body... i would take every last thing if you chose to give it to me.

maybe you're not meant for the way i'm meant for you, but i'm going to choose you anyway, over and over and over again.

you smell like you're mine.

some nights, when i'm walking past your door, i have to whisper to myself "keep going."

what i am is an adult woman with agency and the tools to make choices. feel free to, you know, treat me accordingly.

maybe there is something devastating about the incompleteness of it.

maybe some things transcend reciprocity. maybe not everything is about having.

honey... are we rich?

you make me want to draw again.

that was a badass speech.

stop reading my file.

badass is my middle name.

i don't know you enough to make a judgment.

your jeans are cool.

there is no world, no scenario, no reality in which i'll gracefully allow you to leave me.

spank me and take away my tv privileges.

i have no friends, no hobbies, and no real purpose aside from earning enough money to pay rent in order to... exist, i guess.

stop playing with your food.

other people's approval is a powerful drug.

at times, there are decisions that feel right.

i've seen you use your phone.

you type "google" into the google bar to start a new search.

you need to be told the right things.

you're intelligent and incredibly skilled at what you do.

you're very beautiful to look at.

am i under your protection?

i won't take your freedom. not when so many others have already done so.

if they murder me, avenge me?

any preferences on how?

be creative.

please don't leave.

how the fuck do you smell like this?

you smell like you just came.

i don't know what it is about me that says "please make yourself at home on my lap," but i'll have to fix that.

i could fuck you very nicely right now. i almost did.

i was trying to check my email.

you don't have friends.

what the fuck did you just do?

do you accept?

i am the victim here.

how many people have you killed?

you went limp in my arms, and i was so fucking scared.

i need you to behave.

hope you packed a lint roller.

i fucking love your scent.

can i play with you?

i'm too tired to keep them at bay.

i've taught myself not to care. about anything.

[tianasficrecs168]

WinterIron Fic Recs

NarutoRox: “It’s the Little Things in Life” (Bucky/Tony) • Though Barnes had been living in the tower for almost six months now, things between him and Tony were still a bit awkward. Which is why Tony is a tad confused when Barnes starts leaving him strange little gifts.

Tahlruil: “What Has Been Done” (Bucky/Tony) Bucky has lived with the Avengers for a while now, and he's mostly settled in. During the process, he fell for Tony Stark - hard - but he can't quite bring himself to admit it to the brilliant engineer. So he just does what he can to take care of and protect him, hoping that maybe the other man will fall just as hard for him... and be the one to take their relationship to the next level. In the meantime, he's noticed that there's one member of the team that Tony seems afraid of, and he is definitely not pleased by the notion. Once he finds out what Wanda did to cause that fear, she might wish she'd never left Hydra.

Withered: “Fresh out the freezer” (Bucky/Tony) • Listen; he’s not a total asshole. Tony figures that the guy whose brain has been scrambled since the forties might have some tender sensibilities and he tones down a lot out of respect for that. It’s sweet. But ultimately unnecessary when all Bucky’s been thinking about is bending Tony over the nearest table.

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Grown Ass Man” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony Stark looks self-conscious, and it takes Bucky a stupid amount of time to figure out that’s even what he’s seeing on the guy’s face, because he’s never seen it there before. “Sorry, shoulda knocked.” Which, yeah, he should have, but he was used to rolling into the workshop whenever he felt like it. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a shirtless Tony Stark in the process of doing something with the arc reactor. And sure, he’s staring, has been staring this whole time, right from the moment he’d walked in, because this is the first he’s actually seeing the arc reactor.

Potrix: “Paths Are Made by Walking” (Bucky/Tony) • The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best. Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

Potrix: “Flirting (with danger)” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony stares at the man shackled to the wall for a long, unblinking moment. “You’re supposed to be dead.” The man raises an unimpressed eyebrow back at him. “Right back at ya, pal.”

RayShippouUchiha: “The Great Awakening (To Hold Infinity)” (Bucky/Tony) • Constellations wheel around in Tony’s mind at night, illuminating his sleep with the beauty of a supernova, the terrible gaping hunger of black holes, the whimpering cry of a nebula as it births new stars into creation. All of Space laid out for him to marvel at. Tony learns and learns and learns and then he creeps downstairs and babbles relentlessly to his first and only friend. All the while the Cube hums, just a bit smug, just a bit loving, and shows him more.

Monyas: “Bad Scoping Mechanisms Series” (Bucky/Tony) (part of a series - there's 2 more fics here) Like, the general public hates Tony Stark for having been a weapons manufacturer but actually he was pretty popular while he was still in the weapons industry so one wonders, who would have been a fan of Stark Industries before Afghanistan? Military, alphabet agencies, private security, hitmen and assassins? …Hydra assassins? -In which the Winter Soldier, aka Bucky Barnes, is an avid fan of Tony Stark for reasons.-

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Sometimes Life Happens” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony hadn’t necessarily been looking for further proof of his maladjusted—one might even argue self-destructive—approach to problems, but sometimes life happened, and you didn’t have any choice but to take a long, hard look at yourself. Sometimes, you’re sitting in your car, staring into your recently emptied coffee cup, contemplating whether or not you really want to do this whole “leading a responsible life” thing anymore, and a guy with a gun slides into your passenger seat. Sometimes, that’s just the way your Monday goes.

Ceealaina: “He's Got a Secret” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony snorted. “Are you planning to rent out the Met? I mean, I’m not saying no, the look on his face would be hilarious. But otherwise, I think we can probably make whatever you want to do work with less lead time. We’ve got almost eight months, and I am very, very rich.” Bucky stopped rubbing Tony’s shoulder, ignoring his faint noise of protest. “Eight months?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” Tony frowned at him. “It’s November.” “Yeah.” “Steve’s birthday is in July.” “Steve’s birthday is when now?” Based on that tumblr post about Steve's birthday not ACTUALLY being July 4, and Steve being in too deep to tell the truth.

RiotFalling: “When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)” (Bucky/Tony) There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed.

RiotFalling: “Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)” (Bucky/Tony) • Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.  That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

RiotFalling: “Hey Tony” (Bucky/Tony) • Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

RiotFalling: “Show Tunes and Extra Sauce” (Bucky/Tony) • So maybe three years in Bucky is completely in love, and this might be his first bodyguard gig but he's pretty sure that's breaking Rule One. It's definitely one of the top five rules, at the very least. He can't even be surprised with himself either, not when it's Tony. Bucky’s job is basically to hang out with his crush all the time, and sure sometimes he gets shot or stabbed or has to physically drag Tony out of his lab when he starts sleep-deprived-rambling about building some piece of tech from a scifi movie, but most days Bucky doesn't have a single thing to complain about. And then there's Valentine's Day.

InTheShadows: “Nothing More Deceptive” (Bucky/Tony) • When Tony enters the kitchen he is focused on one thing and one thing only - coffee. What he isn't expecting is Barnes to already be in there. What he really isn't expecting is a sassy, verbal Barnes. The man hasn't said a word since he entered the Tower as far as Tony knows. And what he most certainly isn't expecting if for it to become a tradition of late night meetings, flirting and fun that seems to be headed for something more. Right? (What if it's all in Tony's head after all?)

[robin-evry]

Hey there! Your fics are awesome, keep up the good work! :]

Also wanted to know if you could write a Loucha!yuu, Jing yuan!yuu or a Boothill!yuu(you can choose any of them)? If that isn't too much to ask for of course. Other than that, hope you have a good day <3

Hello, I'm glad that you enjoyed it and thank you for reading it.

so I'm gonna do all three of them but the headcanon is gonna be much shorter than my usual headcanon, hope that's okay.

( PS : Sorry if I've been slow on updates or responding on ask, is due to me being in the hospital for some time. )

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 ⚰️🌾

An elegant and handsome blond young man who carries a giant coffin on his back. As an intergalactic merchant, he was unfortunately caught in the Xianzhou Luofu's Stellaron crisis. And that is how he found his mastery of medicine to come in handy.

NRC new official nurse, luocha!yuu is allowed to stay at NRC and study there while working as a part time nurse in the meantime, luocha!yuu healing abilities are by far more the best than most healing magic, their ability allows them to heal or restore damaged items into their original state. During the savanaclaw arc Leona number one concern is luocha!yuu due to their healing ability so ruggie was tasked to take them down first but every time he tried the plan failed or something interrupted it before it could happen. As if they will Always be aware of their plans before it could happen.

Known for carrying a large coffin around their back, the first years usually ask what's inside the coffin but every time they answer, luocha!yuu will always leave them with a vague answer. Many students have once seen luocha!yuu talking to the coffin or the person inside of it and one time a student once saw vines coming out to touch loucha!yuu hand. These rumors might cause some feeling of uncertainty around luocha!yuu but they seem to not mind because they said it's normal for people to feel that way.

More than meets the eye, perfectly described luocha!yuu. They may seem graceful and a genuine person but there seems to be a level deeper than what they appear as, luocha!Yuu is by far more intelligent as well more sharp than what many students think it's rather unwise to underestimate them or to trust them so easily.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🐥🐣

The Divine Foresight, one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, leads the Cloud Knights of the Xianzhou Luofu. A student of the Luofu's previous Sword Champion, though not known for his martial prowess.

The prince charming of NRC. Handsome, charming, as well as animals love them. Known for their laid back personality Jing yuan!Yuu is very charming for the entire student body no one can resist their charm. Get along with Leona surprisingly both of them are known for their sleepy nature as well mastery at chess. Jing yuan!Yuu is Nestorius for their laid back and sleeping habits always post phoning their assignment but always finishing them in time as well getting good grades.

Carter once took a picture while they were sleeping and uploaded it on magicam and it went viral, many comments ask who's the hottie in the picture. Azul seeing the popularity of and started to sell photo cards of them and it was a hit that he earned more money than ever, Jing yuan!yuu find this amusing they make a contract with Azul that he is allowed to sell random pictures of them in exchange for half of the money he earns as compensation and it was a deal. Many agencies want to make contracts with them including vil one but Jing yuan!yuu will always ignore and change the subject or reject their offer.

Lilia and them would have tea together discussing their time during generals as well some parenting advice and some battlefield strategy. Jing yuan!Yuu is a powerful warrior and many people respect and admire them for it including epel, during overblot if the situation has become more severe Jing yuan!yuu would step up and end the fight using lightning lord to change the tides of the battlefield. epel reminds them a little of yanqing full of life and energy, he approached them whenever or not could they train together.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🤠🐎

A cyborg cowboy drifting among the stars. Extremely optimistic and unrestrained. He is a member of the Galaxy Rangers who swore to punish the wretched by any and all means... His flamboyant and brash actions were all to draw the attention of the Interastral Peace Corporation — the target of his revenge.

NRC number one menace, during the orientation ceremony points their revolver to Crowley. Boothill!yuu knows business and they don't care who they go against. Boothill!yuu is very notorious for breaking rules as well as being wild in NRC. Many people see them as brash or otherworldly but theirs is also another side that encourages this behavior they are free. Boothill!Yuu is a trustworthy friend willing to do everything as long as they are safe and sound. A Ride or die partner. They are also known for their colorful ways of expressing words and cursing, their vocabulary causes riddles to faint. They also have a small dislike towards riddle of how his uptight ness of rules reminds them of an organization everyone should be free to express themselves and not be punished by something so small.

Floyd and them are best friends you can find them running towards each other whenever one of them comes to view, every time they finish an encounter one of them or both of them always end up in the nurse's office due to a playful spar they usually do. Since if you guys don't know boothill is canon for being illiterate so and doesn't want to learn how to read and write, boothill!yuu receive a magical device that helps them with reading and writing. It was created by idia and during why he decided to make it, idia replied it as a way to greet because he's happy Ortho is not the only one being a cyborg.

Idia, Ortho, epel and floyd are by far the closest to them other than the other first years, if a malfunction happens with their cyborg body, idia will find a way to repair or replace the malfunctioning item as well boothill!yuu and Ortho get along together like siblings. Boothill!yuu wants epel to embrace his other side and this will always end with a clash with vill, since they find epel similar towards themselves. Epel feels free as well being himself around boothill!yuu since both of them grew up in the country side. So he is usually free to express himself around them without worrying about vil. Boothill!Yuu is epel safe haven from vil if things get too hard in pomifiore.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ sidekicking at dynamight's agency turns out to be more rewarding than anticipated.

cw // age gap (mid 20s & early 40s), mentions of divorce & a child, suggestive, not proof read ⇢  k.bakugo masterlist

You’re a new sidekick at Bakugo’s agency, a mid-20 something who transferred from another prefecture after moving across the country. He’s in his early 40s, a well seasoned pro hero with plenty of experience under his belt and a successful agency to top off his accomplishments.

Unfortunately, he’s divorced with a kid that his ex-wife hoards from him. Sometimes, his son comes by the agency after school if his mom doesn’t show to get him - one of his assistants walks him home if he’s not in the office himself. It’s a messy situation that everyone chooses not to question him about, including the media. All it took was one stupid pap to ask him about his failed marriage to scare the ever loving shit out of anyone from asking again.

He’s not looking for anything or anyone, hasn’t been on a date in years, avoiding anything to do with “love” by busying himself with work, trying not let any of the dread sink in. His heart is too broken from the divorce and all the shit he went through with his devil of an ex-wife. It often kept him awake at night, adding to the bags under his eyes and the silver highlights in his ashy mane.

And then, there’s you. You’re a firecracker in disguise, passionate and determined to be the best damn hero at the agency. One day, you’re training in the office gym with the other sidekicks and become frustrated with them, unsatisfied with their bland routine. You wanted a challenge when training, something to keep you progressing and not plateauing. Stomping up to Bakugo’s office in the middle of the day, you bang on the door a few times impatiently, hands on your hips when he finally opens the door.

“Newbie? The hell do you want?” He grumbles, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest. Even in his early 40s, he looks damn good, the perfect buff dad body. It may be littered with scars and stretch marks from weight fluctuation over the years, but he viewed them as badges of honor.

“The sidekicks downstairs are boring with training and I need something better. I’m not gonna stay stagnant with those rookies. I need a better trainer.”

Bakugo glares daggers at you, for both insulting the other sidekicks and interrupting his focus on the stacks of paperwork sitting on his desk.

“So you decided complain’ to the boss that provides the training was the smart thing to do?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and take a step closer to him. “No, Dynamight. I want you to train me. I need the best of the best to be an asset to your agency.”

The way you emphasize ‘I want you’ makes him flinch - a phrase he hasn’t heard in years.

“Ya think I have time to train with a sidekick?” He scoffs, ready to shut the door on you when you grab his wrist, making him jump from the contact. Your eyes lock onto his and a chill runs down his spine at your next demand.

“You’re gonna have to make time.”

That marks the day that you, the newest recruit, left the one and only Katsuki Bakugo speechless. He wanted nothing more than to laugh you off and shut the door, but he hurriedly whispered “Fine, tomorrow at 5am” against his better judgement, then slammed the door.

And thus began the tradition of training with your boss twice a week. It was rigorous, as you expected, but you were more than capable of keeping up with his pace. After a few weeks, he stopped acting grumpy about it and started complimenting your progress. You’ve gotten multiple reports back from other heroes saying they’ve seen an improvement in your work, and how you’ve been extending that to the other sidekicks.

What happened the next morning is something Bakugo still can’t fathom, nor did he think he could ever feel something like it again.

It’s 5am, a regular training session in the agency gym - like always. Today, he’s got you working on your hand to hand combat, focusing on grapples, pins and guarding. He encourages you to go all out, and you do, resulting in sweeping his legs out from under him to knock him on his ass. He’s about to say something snarky like “lucky shot” when you steal the breath from his lungs by following up by pinning him to the ground, straddling his hips and gripping his wrists above his head, chest pressed against his as you hover inches from his face, huffing with sweat trickling down your forehead.

Bakugo's mind goes blank and all his focus shifts to your body contact. All he can think about is the pressure of your fingers snaked around his wrists, the plush of your chest squished up against his own, how your thighs are clenched on his hips and the sensation of your ankles tucked against his thighs. He can feel his face heating up, and his groin, unable to look away or run off somewhere to hide. He's somewhat thankful you have his wrists pinned, elsewise he may have...no, he can't think about that.

"...hello? Earth to Dynamight?" you call at him, releasing one of his wrists to wave your hand in his face. "You okay? You're looking a little pale."

He violently shakes his head, clearing his throat before muttering, "M'fine, now get off'a me."

He scoots backward on the gym mat when you leave his personal bubble, tucking his legs up to his chest with his head on his forearms. He doesn't notice that he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and has broken out into a cold sweat. You're standing there, dumbfounded, and decide to call it off for the morning.

"Well, I'll let you get to work or whatever it is you gotta do. Sorry for knocking you on your ass so hard, Dy-"

"Y'can call me Katsuki, you know. S'not always strictly hero names around here."

Where the fuck did that come from? You barely know her.

You grace him with a smile, tilting your head sweetly. "Thanks, Katsuki. I'll see ya later." And off you go, skipping to the locker room to wash up for your shift later in the morning.

What the fuck was that?

Bakugo's stuck sitting on the mats a little while longer, desperately waiting for himself to cool off like a horny high school teenager. He's got a million thoughts running through his head, and the one at the forefront is you in the same exact position, only...

...No.

He can't think of you like that.

Can he?

Shit, he didn't even talk to you outside of mandatory meetings before this training bullshit. But he can't deny you're attractive, and your personality only makes you that much hotter to him.

And so, Bakugo walks into the shared locker room, purposefully locks the door and turns on one of the showers, as hot as he could manage. His back begins to redden from the pressure and temperature of the jet stream as he rested his forearm against the tile. Soon enough, all thoughts of you cumulated into the drain at his feet, ejected from his body and taken care of.

Until the next morning, where he finds you sitting at his desk with two coffees.

"Mornin'! Brought you a 'sorry I kicked your ass' apology coffee. Your assistant said you like it black, hope she was right!"

Shit.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

[skyahri]

There For You |Shota Aizawa X Reader| HC

Summary: Aizawa steps up after Oboro's death, but panics when things get a bit too real.

Warnings: TEEN PREGNANCY! AFAB reader. Set one year ahead for story purposes. Mentions of death. Implication of sex, but no actual smut.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

You'd known Oboro your entire life. Your mother's were best friends and had planned their pregnancies, so you were only a few months apart.

You two were close as could be - playing, having sleepovers, and studying together always. When his quirk manifested and yours didn't, he made a promise to always protect you.

When high school came around and you were both accepted to UA (him under the hero course and you in general studies), he kissed you for the first time.

That kiss was just the beginning of a wonderful relationship. He was doting and loving, just as he'd always been, but the connection was deeper now.

In his time at UA, he made great friends, ones that accepted you as a part of the package deal. Your group was a match made in heaven. You were happy he had such a wonderful support system.

You remember how excited he was when he was accepted to the Purple Revolution Agency with Aizawa for his work study. You praised him for his hard work and celebrated that night. If you had known what would've come of it, you'd have begged him to take any other offer.

Shouta was the one to tell you. You'd come home from school to a house full of pros and officers, confused as to what happened. He quickly escorted you outside and explained the day's events to you.

The news of his death was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially since you'd only recently found out you were eight weeks pregnant.

At the time, you'd panicked, horrified of the social repercussions sure to come. But now? Now you were thankful to have something left from him.

"Oboro... asked me to take care of you. Both of you."

Shouta was there from then on. Not that he'd been lacking in presence beforehand, but now he was more dutiful.

He shut down any attempts you made to push him away, assuring you that any support and companionship he provided to you was of his own free will, and not because of any promise he'd made to Oboro before his death. He did make a promise, yes, but even if he hadn't, he'd still probably be here.

Hizashi and Nemuri helped as much as they could, but choosing to be front-line heroes complicated things more than Shouta's underground work.

Once the baby came, a beautiful little girl you'd named Kumori, Shouta's life felt a little less empty.

He'd been so preoccupied with finishing school, starting his career, and supporting you, that he hadn't allowed himself the space to cope with the loss of his best friend. He'd been well aware of the void Oboro had left, but never really paid much mind to it.

But now he felt like didn't need to. Like all the grief had resolved itself and he instantly jumped from denial to acceptance.

Kumori became his pride and joy. He spent all of his free time with you and her. Aside from night patrols and the occasional assignment, he didn't have much going on, making things all the easier for your makeshift family to function.

He took her to the park and played with her. They watched movies together and usually fell asleep halfway through. On days he was busy, he'd always make sure to check in with a text, something you always appreciated.

When she started to talk, her first words were of course 'dada' and directed at him. It stirred up something unsettling with him. He apologized profusely, not realizing that he had inadvertently stolen Oboro's spot in her life.

"Don't be silly, Shouta."

Such a simple response to such an insanely complex situation. He wasn't sure how to take that kind of response or the problem at hand in general, so he decided to take a step back from you two.

That night, when he went home after his patrol, he stayed home. You texted asking where he was and if he was okay, and that only made him spiral more.

What was he doing? Taking Oboro's spot in your life. Raising his child, spending the night with his girlfriend, and having dinner with his parents.

How pathetic.

He didn't go over the next night, or the one after that. Before he knew it, an entire week had passed and he hadn't so much as responded to your messages. He couldn't. Not with the dread and guilt he was feeling.

There was a knock at his door. He looked at the time and groaned; nearly six in the morning. He got up and looked through the peephole, relaxing when he saw Hizashi's bright yellow hair.

"What are you doing here?"

He pushed his way into Shouta's apartment.

"Y/N has been going crazy blowing up our phones. Nemuri and I have tried covering for you, but I think it's time you're honest with me."

Shouta wasn't sure why, but he unloaded onto Hizashi at that moment. He spilled everything uncontrollably in a long, incomprehensible rant. This completely caught Hizashi off guard. H wasn't expecting anything other than an argument to ensue if he was being honest.

Shouta told Hizashi everything. How he practically lived with you, how he raised your daughter, how he felt like he'd taken advantage of such a loss.

It took Hizashi a few minutes to let everything sink in. He was confused at first. The way you and Shouta spoke about your relationship made it seem like he had more of an uncle-type role in Kumori's life. He was surprised to find out he was so involved. Of course, Shouta always claimed to be busy, but he and Nemuri had assumed he was lying to get out of things.

Shouta gave him an expecting look after a few minutes with no response. Hizashi apologized, too caught up in his thoughts to realize he'd totally zoned out.

"I think Oboro would be more upset if he found out you'd abandoned his kid."

"I'm being serious, Mic."

"So am I."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"She thinks I'm her dad. What kind of piece of shit steals their friend's life after he dies, huh?"

"You're crazy if you think like that, dude. Would you prefer she be all alone? Or his kid grow up with out a dad? He asked you to take care of them for a reason."

"It just feels wrong."

A smug smile crept its way onto Hizashi's face.

"You love her, don't you? That's why it feels so wrong."

Aizawa looked at his friend like he was sick in the head.

"What are you on about? Don't be ridiculous."

But the more the thought about it the less ridiculous it sounded.

He loves his life. He loves you and your daughter, something he's well aware of, but now he's questioning what sort of love he held for you two.

He'd never tried to label it before, but now that he was trying to, he found any other type of love to be unfulfilling.

"You need to leave."

He pushed Hizashi out, not leaving any room for him to argue.

Shouta took a breath to calm himself down before grabbing his things and heading out as well.

He made it to your house in record time, relieved to see only your car in the driveway. He knocked on the door and waited patiently.

When you opened it and saw him, you quickly reached out and pulled him in for a hug. He returned the gesture, holding you tighter than he had before. After a moment, you pulled away, and promptly punched him square in the chest.

"Where the Hell have you been?!"

Just like he did with Hizashi, he told you everything. All the thoughts and feelings that had been eating at him this past week, the guilt and anxiety that plagued him, and what Hizashi had said.

"When Oboro told me to look after you, I don't think this is what he meant."

"Believe it or not, we actually talked about this before he died."

Shouta looked at you bewildered.

"Not this specifically, Shouta," you laughed, "He told me if he ever died, he would want me to continue living. I think he'd be happy for all of us."

Oboro knew there was significant risk in his line of work. He didn't expect to die so young, of course, but it's all the same. He would hate for you to never love again. To be all alone in the world or lose all ambition.

"Please, never let my death be the end of you."

His words always lingered in your head. It's why you never felt any type of way about Shouta's involvement in your and your daughter's lives. It made you happy, and that's all anyone could ask for.

"So... what does this mean for us?"

You weren't sure how he'd take the question. He didn't seem too content with whatever it was racing through his head.

Shouta leaned forward and kissed you. When you leaned in and responded, he grew more confident. He put his hands on your face and you bunched yours in his shirt. He pulled away and looked at you.

"I think he was right. I think... I do love you."

[gffa]

Rewatched the Rebels episode where Kanan and the others go to meet Ahsoka's friend for help in finding good base locations and it turns out to be Rex and everyone has a real bad time of it, because this show was for a young audience, sure, but it also didn't shy away from Kanan's trauma or letting us know that Rex had been through a lot of his own hurt, too. The clones having to live in this space of what they'd done, that it hadn't been their choice, but it had been their hands, killing the Jedi, the people who fought besides them on the battlefield, who bled and died for them, the clones were the ones who killed them because their very agency was taken away, their thoughts were overwritten, and you have to live with that guilt and anger and hurt, because it wasn't your choice, you didn't want this, but it was your brothers that still did it, and you have to worry that the Jedi will be angry at you for it, will come after you for being a danger to them, for having killed their children, and then you come face to face with a Jedi, a Jedi who is angry at you, who doesn't believe you, who was a child when a clone murdered his master in front of him and then tried to kill him, who had killed other kids his age, and how how how could anyone not want revenge for that? Jedi were taught not to seek it, but how could anyone possibly face the genocide of their entire people and culture, and not say this was different? How could they not go through that and decide, no, this did need to be avenged? And no amount of trying to explain that you didn't want it, you didn't know at the time, you didn't choose this, can ever undo what happened. And that you don't know if it's worse to have your mind stripped from you and monstrous acts done with your hands but you lived or if it's worse to have seen your entire culture murdered just for being born with the Force and for standing up to fight against evil and having the entire galaxy lie about who you were and what you did and why you did it, to still be hunted down just because you could touch the Force, no matter whether you fought back or not, to not even be able to just say the words, "I'm a Jedi." without someone probably turning you in to the Empire. Both sides of this utterly trusted each other once upon a time and that trust was shattered through no fault of their own and everyone can understand why everyone else is the victim of something truly horrific, but still can't get back to where they were before, because it doesn't matter that none of them chose any of this, it was still their hands that were forced into unthinkable acts and their kids' bodies on the ground and nothing can ever undo that. You have to do your best to let go of the horror and move on, maybe find something new, but you'll never not see everything that happened when you look at the other person. Anyway, I'm gonna go punt myself into the sun brb.