#an average of almost 2 hours a day for an entire year of play time

[churmandurr]

The most toxic people you know are also the most powerful people you know....

Finished my 2nd play thru, finally did a full astarion romance. we went full durge EXCEPT for becoming bhaals chosen, ascended astarion... nastiest stinkiest worst dom sub leash out in public gross ass couple

[occult-rh]

Royale High Dolls

This is a little different from the usual content I post here, but I wanted to talk about the situation with the new toys coming into Royale High.

This is coming from someone who can afford all of the toys and therefore all of the items and has genuinely considered buying them. But now, as I'll explain below, I refuse to.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭⭑👽๋࣭ ⭑⚝⋆

It's incredibly frustrating to have very few sets in the last couple of years. (Only NINE in the past 3 years, since June 2021) Out of these nine sets I've mentioned, only two of them (Peppermint Princess and TTYL) have been under 100k. The next cheapest of these sets is surprisingly, Opposites Attract (Released 2022) followed by Summer Fantasy (2021). At the time of release, both of these sets were considered to be unreasonably expensive. The cheapest set in the past 2 years is very surprisingly, Snow Swan (2023). It's coming in at a whopping 154k, followed by Whimsy Witch (2022) at 183k! The point I'm trying to make here is that before the Summer Fantasy set was released, the most expensive set was Princess Starfrost at only 125.5k. The average price for sets was 110k-120k. What on earth happened?

I find this inflation to be completely unnecessary and ridiculous, seeing as this game is tailored towards KIDS. Kids do not have hours upon hours to spend farming for diamonds because they have school and extracurriculars to worry about. And it is almost impossible to farm the required amount of diamonds for any of the more recent sets only on weekends, even with multipliers. You would have to spend an unhealthy amount of time playing every single day to be able to afford anything. And in my opinion, that isn't the way to make a sustainable game.

The new sets are simply an extension of this inflation. How can you release one of the largest updates ever, which introduces more new items in a single update than the entire year combined, and make it inaccessible to most people? As I stated before, this game is tailored toward KIDS. They do not have hundreds of dollars to spend on toys, and if their parents are reasonable, they definitely won't let them. I cannot understand why someone would do this other than blatant greed.

My biggest reason for not buying the set is simply because it makes me very upset to be paying money to a person who pretends not to be focused on the monetary. Royale High was recently described as a "Passion Project" by Beaplays. (Don't quote me on this, this is from memory.) A Passion Project is something that allows an individual to pursue and present something they enjoy to other people. If RH was a true passion project, why would Barbie need to attach steep prices and hold sets back for what I assume months or even years instead of just releasing them to the public? I understand that Barbie needs to make a living, but she doesn't need the excess money she's making off of these dolls. It's quite simply the fattest and most obvious cash grab I've ever seen in my life, and I refuse to play into it.

As well as this, unfortunately, the company that produced the dolls very loudly supports Israel. It is important to note that it was NOT ROYALE HIGH'S CHOICE to use this company, but rather Roblox's. Allegedly, Royale High was not aware of this until after they signed the contract. If you'd like to buy any of the dolls yourself, it's best to do so through a reseller. (Or steal from Walmart, it's not like they need the money. /hj)

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭⭑👽๋࣭ ⭑⚝⋆

The entire situation makes my blood boil. I haven't played RH in the past two weeks even before the update. I'll still try to make some posts occassionally, but to be quite honest all my motivation and love for this game has been put on the back burner. It's so disheartening to see a game you've loved and have been playing for the past 6 years succumb to terrible greed.

[jjraderftw]

SWAMPCON

Swampcon was an absolute delight. This wasn’t my first time going to this convention for I actually had the pleasure of going with my friends last year. As an avid convention attendee, I knew exactly what was in store for me at Swampcon. As a Gator Anime officer, this has been something my friends and fellow officers have been working on and planning ever since last year. I had the opportunity to do almost everything the con had to offer including: visiting maid cafe, touring vendor hall and artist alley, participating in cosplay, playing in the rhythm arcade, attending a vocaloid concert and participating/hosting a panel.

The first thing I did the day of Swampcon was go with my friends in cosplay to the event. I adore cosplay as it's my opportunity to bring not only my headcanon OC designs to life, but also embrace some of my favorite characters in a new way where I can literally live out the fantasies of “he’s just like me for real.” Saturday I went as an original designer for a steampunk character. It's my personal favorite costume and is full of intricate gears and accessories. My friends went as miscellaneous characters ranging from Indiana Jones to Nagito from Danganronpa. Once we got to the venue, we went to see our sister club Maid Cafe perform. The songs they performed were bangers and I even got to see my friends break it down on stage to King which was so entertaining. We got served some treats so I had the S Tier drink known as lemonade and a brownie as the show was going on.

After the maid cafe, I toured vendor hall and artist alley. I bought the cutest and most astute looking goose plush I’ve ever seen. He is beautiful and he’s mine now. I named him Quacavel. The vendor hall was very small compared to an average convention so not too much besides the plushie caught my eye. On the other hand, artists alley was a lot more entertaining and engaging for me. I love buying good art and trinkets despite having no money nor wall space for them, but it's fine don't worry. I got a really neat framed painting of a fox that I put up in my room. The artist selections were awesome and vibrant and had items ranging from candles, to canvases, to preserved animal skeletons.

After some light shopping, I caught up with some old buddies of mine and relaxed in the VIP lounge for a bit until the late afternoon, just in time for the events to begin. We went to a panel where my boy Ahmed rated his favorite muscular women in anime (his first choice was Mikasa) which was not only hilarious in concept, but funny in the sense that it was surreal seeing it hosted in the UF Chamber with about 50+ attentive attendees. We migrated to the Vocaloid concert after the panel ended. Though it wasn’t holoprojected like it was last year, the song selection and dance sequences were absolutely gas and I enjoyed seeing hundreds of vocaloid enjoyers in one room all grooving to Solar System Disco.

The last bit of the day was my own panel: Bad Fanfic Reading (18+). We started prepping for the panel at around 7pm and my partner and I began setting up the powerpoint, music, and reading list. Though none of us had any prior experience with hosting panels at conventions, our time running Anime Club and our overall extroverted natures made it pretty easy. Honestly, I didn’t even feel nervous. Though I won’t go into detail about what we read, I will say we had an insane turnout and we had an amazing time. Our entire room was almost full and we retained a lot of the crowd for the almost 2 hour long session. It was an unforgettable experience that concluded in a trip to Chili’s.

Sunday I did basically everything from Saturday minus the panel stuff. It was a lot more tame since I was tired from the night before. I cosplayed as Red from Pokemon Red/Blue/Yellow and even got a fire picture with Team Rocket!

Overall, I had an awesome time and I’m glad I was able to go.

[evil-ontheinside]

Chapter 3 wip of I saw a brighter world beyond myself (I really need an abbreviation for this) (also chapter 2 is coming on Saturday if I don't forget, for those that are interested :))

It’s not that she expected him to be early. He usually isn’t and when it comes to this little business they have going on, he likes to take his time just to get on her nerves. Usually, that wouldn’t be a problem. Most days, she still has a decent collection on her table before he comes around to drop off the new items. But for some odd reason, the royal physician and the delegate for scientific advances had decided to overrun her stall the day prior and bought almost her entire stock. It was a good day, profit-wise, but she doesn’t like when her stall is empty. It feels wrong, somehow, to see the bare surface of her table—the spot of burned wood all too easy to see that has been there since a little lava plant accident two years ago—like she failed some strange challenge among vendors and stall owners when they already eye her with poorly disguised animosity. And, after all, a good day followed by a bad one only amounts to the average at best. Max can’t afford average right now. And either way, Max hates waiting. It feels pointless. She could do so much more with her time if she could plan for her stupid business partner to actually show up around a reasonable hour. If she had known how the day was about to play out, she would have gone out herself to search for new things to sell, just like in old times. Max doesn’t even mind it sometimes, the waiting. When it’s for a good reason or for someone she actually likes and not only tolerates, at least. She can seldom muster up the patience for her own mother, Murray Bauman hardly earned the privilege.

[toptelmultimedia]

5 Stunning Reasons to Switch to a UX Design Career in 2024!

If you’re a recent graduate, a final-year student, or a working professional considering a career change, switch to a UX design career in 2024! Fantastic, now is definitely the right time to get started. Excited to know why? Here are the “Top 5 Stunning Reasons to Switch to a UX Design Career in 2024“– It’s really mind-blowing to know.

Today the world is entirely digital, and everything we interact with are digital products. Consequently, the demand for UX professionals has been growing tremendously. Concrete proof of this exponential popularity is the list of the 25 highest-paying entry-level jobs in 2019 by Glassdoor, where the UX designer job category is in 6th position with $73,000.

UX provides excellent opportunities with quicker career development for those who show talent and have the right mindset. Today, almost 238,000 designers across 129,000 companies in the United States have sought great careers in UX design.

If you need a brief insight into what user experience (UX) is, continue reading to learn more along with the top reasons to switch to a UX design career in 2024.

What is UX Design?

Simply put, UX is all about the experience of the user while using a particular product, system, or service. This experience refers to the emotions and attitudes of the person.

User experience design (UX design) is not only synonymous with user interface and usability but also encompasses other areas. The process involves developing products and services that provide a pleasing and meaningful experience to users and customers by seamlessly integrating aspects such as usability, branding, design, and functionality, among others.

For the success of a mobile app, UX design plays a significant role. The following stats reveal the importance of UX in mobile app development:

– 52% of users claim that a bad mobile experience made them less likely to engage with an organization. – Mobile users are 5 times more likely to abandon a task if a site isn’t optimized for mobile. – 48% of users feel frustrated and annoyed when on sites that are poorly optimized for mobile.

Therefore, any successfully running mobile application in the marketplace likely owes much of its success to UX design.

Top 5 Reasons to Switch to a UX Design Career in 2024

1. Enormous Growth and Opportunities

With the ever-growing market and need for digital products and services, the demand for experienced and even fresher UX designers is on the rise. There are ample growth opportunities waiting for you.

Facts reveal that people spend almost 2 hours and 51 minutes every day on their smart mobile devices. Of that, 22% of users check their phones every few minutes while standing in a queue, sitting in transport, waiting for someone, or listening to music, proving how significant the role of a UX designer is.

2. High Demand by Top Hiring Companies

In this fast-paced recruitment environment, the demand for UX professionals is immense. A report from Hired.com titled “Mind the Gap: A Report on the UK’s Technology Skills Landscape” indicates a 289% increase in requests for UX interviews, showing that market demand for these skills far outstrips supply.

According to Onward Search Digital, Creative and Marketing Professionals Salary Guide, the UX designer is the second most in-demand role after the digital product designer. The UI designer comes in third, and the user researcher appears fourteenth on the list.

3. High Paying Jobs

With the rise in technology, there are more websites, apps, smartphones, social media, and content at our fingertips than ever before. This has increased the need for user experience support on various web-based projects, advertising campaigns, and client-side applications, driving the demand for UX designers.

Indeed lists the average yearly salary for a UX designer as $94,859. Glassdoor’s 50 Best Jobs in America 2020 report lists a UX designer’s median base salary at $90,478. The Creative Group Salary Guide 2020 states that a UX designer’s salary ranges from $99,750 to $196,840.

4. Emergence of Design-Centric Organizations

Design-centric organizations such as Coca-Cola, Apple, and Nike have become major attractions for those pursuing UX as a career. The design has improved business retention rates, increased lifetime value, and boosted sales, highlighting the importance of proficient UX designers.

5. Huge Scope for Innovation and Creativity

With every new technology emerging in the digital world, there is a huge scope and need for innovation and creativity in UX design. UX design is a dynamic career where you get to empathize with users and deliver out-of-the-box solutions.

What the Future Holds for a UX design career in 2024!

The popularity of UX design has been growing, and its future looks bright. Some emerging trends include:

– Automotive UX: Automation, supported by AI and machine learning, is likely to impact how product teams work.

– User’s Digital Well-Being: Companies like Google and Apple are focusing on the digital well-being of users, promoting healthier app experiences.

Wrapping Up:

“UX is one of the most difficult job roles for many companies to fill,” says John Dennehy. The demand for UX designers is currently outstripping supply, leading to many unfilled roles. If you are interested in expanding your skill set, consider enrolling in a UX designer course. Whether you are a data-driven marketer or a creative designer, getting involved in UX design may change your  career in 2024!

[dzpenumbra]

7/28/23

Alright. 3AM and here I am. I got a full night's sleep last night. Waking up and seeing the afternoon light was a relief. I'm hoping that will soon be... a thing of the past.

Let me elaborate. I had therapy today. I timed the start of my day so that I didn't do yoga or anything before therapy, I actually pretty much started my day with it. I did dishes and broke out my brand new teapot to make a pot of jasmine tea. I thawed some frozen strawberries - this bag unfortunately was not a great batch. I ate a bowl of cereal and played Mini Motorways for a bit. But the big thing was... I started my day with therapy.

The teapot... was a bit of a mistake, to be honest. Not in getting it, it will be a perfect addition when I finally do literally anything social in-person at my house. Something I had given up on ages ago in the past. But... what noticed today was that... just drinking two cups of tea was... too much. I got too much caffeine in my system from just two cups of tea. How fucking crazy is that. After only a couple days of not even a cold-turkey caffeine detox, just cutting down from a pot of black coffee to one cup of tea. The difference was staggering. I guarantee 2 weeks ago I could've drank the entire pot of tea and barely felt anything.

So, that's a thing I need to be mindful of. I made a point to go into therapy without a plan today. I was curious to see what would come out of it naturally. Unsurprisingly, some stuff from my journal entry last night about my social anxiety and panic and its origins/maturation and all that came up. But a surprising amount of stuff about... sleep. My lack of sleep, sleep interruption, my sleep schedule, what I've historically done about sleep. He made sure to be very delicate about it, but was urging me to try to bring my sleep schedule back a bit. And honestly, I want to. I genuinely don't know what's holding me back.

I say this at 3AM. 3AM is a very normal time for me to be awake. I just spent like 15 minutes in my kitchen cleaning my stove and washing dishes, and I had to actively stop myself. These late-night/early morning hours are very unique, hours that the layman rarely sees at any point in their life. Fucking think about that, how weird is that? The average person, in fact... the vast majority of people... can go their whole lives and only see between 2-4AM a handful of times. On super rare occasions, like being sick or having nightmares or if they have an infant child that needs care, or in extreme emergencies, or a super quick bathroom sprint. And I've seen that entire stretch from midnight to dawn every fucking day for well over 4 years. Every day. It's where almost every one of these journal entries was written, it's where a lot of my artwork has been made.

So... why? Why? XD Why do I sleep during the day... and stay up until dawn? I. Don't. Know.

I legit asked my therapist directly to please help me explore this next week. I honestly don't know. I'm struggling to connect the dots. Is this a thing like, "well, I just drink caffeine, don't ask me why... it's just what I do"? Is it because it's insanely quiet and still - like just the sounds of the occasional cricket or the rare nocturnal hunt? Is it because everyone else is asleep, and I'm... avoiding them? Meaning like... I finally have the world to myself and won't be bothered? ... I don't know, because I really don't have the world to myself... I have to be super quiet during the night. It's one thing to be loud and shit during the day... it's a whole other ball-game to disturb your neighbors at 3AM. Am I afraid of going to sleep in the dark? Genuinely unsure on that one. I don't really feel like I am. And I have night lights... I think it might just be... unfamiliar. Like working out was.

Here's an interesting thought I had earlier... am I sleeping during the day because that's when people aren't in the building? ... Like... everyone is away during the day, at their jobs or school or whatever. So... that's the time when the building is the emptiest. Can I like... sense (subconsciously) the presence of this many people in close proximity to me? And like... maybe when I'm sleeping, do I feel safer when I'm around less people? It's an interesting angle, but I don't know.

Or is it really not this complicated. I really think it might be as simple as... I'm just not used to sleeping at night. And I really have no dire need to be awake at a certain hour... Though it would be convenient, I would have plenty of time to skate, without having to rush. I could take day trips to the lake or the beach or go explore weird hippie shops and shit. I could go on adventures. I could go be out in the world! But when am I going to do 4-hours straight of painting? How do I fit that into my day, too?

Yeah, maybe there isn't some big subconscious reasoning. Maybe it's just... what I got used to. Maybe dawn is the only marker because... its the only timekeeper I listen to. When I see 4AM, it doesn't mean much to me. When I see the sun coming up, I go... "oh shit, yeah, I gotta wrap it up." I guess kinda like what sunset is for a lot of people.

So yeah, maybe this is just a matter of habit. Just a super big and super broad habit.

I had to remind myself today that in 2019, I was living in a house with 11 other people. I was sharing a room, first with one other person almost 10 years older than me, then with 2 people 10 years younger. It was super alien and uncomfortable and I struggled with it a lot, but I managed to make it work enough to function and adjusted surprisingly quickly. I had some sleep struggles there, but only because I was staying up until 2AM. That's peanuts compared to what I'm doing now. Back then, I was waking up at around 8 or 9 so I could make a 10AM appointment 2 times a week. But I was steadily waking up in AM. And that was not that long ago... it was only... 4... years ago... Damn, the pandemic really fucked up time, didn't it.

So... I guess a lot of my big dramatic problems are... still residual pandemic problems. Scared to be in close proximity to other people, and kinda masking that as... don't want to be "overwhelmed emotionally"... or "don't want to involuntarily do something to offend people". Maybe my panic brain is bringing that shit out because it knows I'll listen. When really... it's "I don't want to get sick and die." Because... people just don't talk about the virus anymore, like it just doesn't fucking exist. Like it just went away. And I don't have social interactions, so... I'm kinda... frozen in time? And I never evolved new social habits because... I don't have anyone else built in to practice with. So... I guess I'm kinda still in quarantine, kinda?

I mean... I'm vaccinated so I don't really know what I'm worried about. I'm just... I haven't really been to any kind of in-person thing involving more than just family members in almost 4 years. I've been to doctors, I've been to therapy, I've gone to dinner with family. I don't know, I haven't like... hung out with a group of people since before the pandemic. And it's super alien, and... that same word keeps coming up over and over and over - overwhelming. The idea of it is overwhelming. But I crave it so much. And it's essential for my personal and professional growth.

I used to go to concerts at small venues where you'd just be packed in there like sardines, feeling the energy of the crowd. Now? No way in hell I'd do that. I might stand on the side by the wall and listen to the music... Huh... Maybe this is pandemic shit.

I've been trying to put this in context of why I have been skipping and kinda avoiding... excusing myself... from going to these regular live model drawing sessions at the art collective a block away from my apartment. I've known about and missed 2 drawing sessions and a small concert to raise money for flood victims. Let me just uncork the old noggin real quick and unload all the reasons I came up with to not go. So I can hear how exaggerated (I wanted to say "stupid" but I'm really trying not to beat myself up so much) they are.

I didn't want to go because I haven't done figure drawing, let alone figure drawing from life... in a very long time. Like... since college. I did some figure drawing studies in 2020 and 2021, from photographs. I haven't done figure drawing from life since college. And... yeah, honestly? I think that's the big bad one. I'm a tiny bit self-conscious about how I smell because I stopped wearing deodorant like 6 years ago, it kept fucking with my skin and I don't like the idea of putting weird chemicals into my skin when I don't really know what effects they'll have, especially for cosmetic purposes. But I'm really not that concerned about that one, I mean... if I'm wearing beads and hemp jewelry, you can expect a little B.O. and you can get the fuck over yourself, you stink too. We all do. And I make sure I shower and perfume very soon before being around people, so I really don't think that's an issue, it's never been brought to my attention as being a big one. I am a bit self-conscious about my skin condition. It's like acne, but all over my scalp to varying degrees, in addition to some face acne. I have been self-conscious about this for a while. But I just can't bring myself to wear a hat to hide it. I just can't allow myself that crutch, it feels like giving a loaded gun to my shame. And I've been going out regularly and honestly, once I get out there I really don't think about it. On my last walk, I had mosquitos fucking gravitating towards them because they're like radar beacons of heat, but I passed by several people and the insecurity really didn't linger in my head more than a fleeting thought. If someone's going to judge me for something I can't help, when I can't even get a doctor's appointment until December? They can fuck off. I've been a little afraid that I might... be socially awkward? From just... lack of practice... But my therapy sessions prove that completely wrong... and my interactions with the girl who works for the building and the maintenance guy prove that wrong. And streaming does too. And my passing body-language interactions with people in the world prove that wrong. I'm just... kinda in my own world out there. But not in an anti-social way. In the way that a 7 year old is in their own world, because they're just utterly fascinated by the shape of these leaves over here... or this rock they found... but if you approach them, they're cool with chatting. Hell, they'll tell you all about it! So... I'm not so much insecure about my ability to communicate... I'm just worried that I won't make the most out of the opportunity. That I will meet some people but... not connect, not have it turn into friends. Because I'm too passive. I don't know.

So... of all of that... I think the insecurity about my drawing ability... and my insecurity with being too passive and just sorta... being at the school dance but standing on the sidelines and waiting for someone to approach me? Because I'm a bit shy...? Those are the big ones. The others are kinda just fleeting thoughts. How to address this? If I make figure drawing an anatomical study... or a study of breaking down the body into simple interrelated shapes... I could go on, you get what I mean? If I make this a study... rather than... I'm here to show these people my chops... as though I have to... impress them or something? First impression moments, man... that's gotta be what this is. Ugh... But yeah, if I focus on treating this as an opportunity to learn about anatomical structures... like trying to draw the person's skeleton rather than their skin... or their muscle structures in certain parts of their body that are flexed or rotated when they're in specific poses. Or just breaking down complex forms into simpler shapes so I can sorta... develop gestural shortcuts for future figure drawing... Then this can be sort of an... autodidactic class. A class where I'm teaching myself. Not just me showing up and being this incredibly talented artist and drawing the person and then people look at it and go "wow, that's really good" and I get embarrassed and proud at the same time. Good lord, engaging with these anxieties is so fucking important, this paragraph has turned me completely 180 on this. I absolutely can see the value in going to that drawing session now, it's worth well more than $15 for 2 hours. Plus, I get to potentially meet new people.

See... that's what I did. I put too much emphasis on meeting new people and making a good impression. If I have a secondary goal... I can come out of there with a win no matter what. Not that it's winning or losing... but I hope you know what I mean. If I go there with the exclusive goal of making new friends... there's a good chance that even if it goes well, I might not make a new best friend. And that puts a ton of invisible pressure on myself and on other people, that they're not even aware of. I really should be going for the experience. And make an effort to socialize. But really... just get an experience.

Goddamn. I'm just like... the concept of walking up to a stranger, or a group of strangers, at a trivia night at a bar? That shit is so fucking alien to me right now. I just immediately get a huge reflex that just starts laughing at the absurdity of that. Me. Walking up to a beautiful woman at a bar and asking to buy her a drink. XD Right... I'm in the corner booth sitting crosslegged on the bench seat drawing zentangles on a coaster. That's the character I am. I don't like being that forward. It makes me uncomfortable.

And yet... I rely on others to be that forward... Figure that one out... XD

I'm just gonna explore this one before I turn in, I really want to get a shower in before I go to bed. The time before last at the skatepark, a kid came by. I say kid, he was probably in his early 20's. He was on the other side of the park the entire time. I had headphones in, he had headphones in. He stayed on his side of the park, I stayed on mine. (To be fair, the only obstacles I wanted to skate were on the side I was on.) We didn't speak the entire time. We barely made eye contact. Can I... challenge myself... next time I'm at the skatepark... to go up to someone specifically for the purpose of saying hi? To introduce myself? I mean, I wave to passersby a lot. I smile a ton. I feel like I'm approachable enough. I wonder if I could challenge myself, set some goals... to like... go up to strangers and introduce myself and get to know something about them. Without "being weird" about it, since that keeps popping up in my head.

I did not grow up with good role models for this. But I know how to do it. I've done it in the past. And I really need to remember this part. I have done it in the past and it did not go poorly. It's just very alien to me, and it's not something I have really identified as behavior I would do. Like sending food back at a restaurant, or returning something I bought, or getting something fixed by my landlord. They are things that I am capable of doing logistically, in action, but they are not comfortable actions. They are things I do very rarely, and they feel... risky? They feel liable to upset people. And... my compassion gets hijacked by my self-protective anxiety and goes "oh, you really shouldn't upset those people, it's not that bad." Like the creaky floorboards.

That same "protective" voice says "don't be weird and go over and bother that kid." Because a 36 year old skateboarder saying hi and introducing himself and complimenting another skateboarder is... weird... apparently... and will upset them? Okay, let me turn the tables then... if a 45 year old skateboarder came up to me and complimented me, would I think it was weird? No... I would make a new friend. I'm just... I guess this is where the trauma comes in... I'm aware now that not everyone reacts the same way. And a lot of people in my life... A LOT of people... reacted in ways that did not make sense. And my compassion... got confused, and now kinda short-circuits and struggles to read peoples' reactions properly and tries to play it safe? I guess? Like... "this could go really well, it could be just a normal everyday human interaction, or it could go really bad. Really bad is the new one, we didn't know it could go like this, but god fucking damn did we learn. So... is the benefit worth the potential cost? It is worth the risk? To upset them? To hurt them?" And the answer comes out to be... "play it safe, avoid. Just smile from a distance and let them make the first move."

You know what they say. All great things come from playing it as safe as possible and not taking any risks at all. (That's sarcasm, in case you couldn't read the tone, it's actually the opposite.)

Man... Social anxiety and trauma can get so fucking weird when they mix. Weird because... the logic doesn't appear to make sense... but in the context of the narrative of my outlandish traumatic experiences... it makes a convincing enough argument to end up like this. Welp, the good news? ... Isn't that what gospel means? Good news? XD Welp, here's an excerpt from the Book of DZ for the day - I have made enough progress in developing my self-awareness to be able to detect these... hang-ups? Insecurities? Limitations? I don't even really have a good word for them. Challenges, I guess? And, more recently, I can actually... see myself performing healthier, more social actions. Well, I can see a hypothetical person doing these things. Like I can write stage directions and script a scene where a person that I would be playing would walk up and introduce himself at the skatepark. "Hey, you're really consistent with that tre flip. Is that a favorite trick of yours? Oh, my names _____ by the way." I've done it before, too. I just really wish... I felt excited to have those interactions... rather than dreading them.

Back around college graduation and the few years following, I used to do this thing I called "emotional alchemy"... where I would try to take the physical sensation of stage fright and channel it directly into excitement. Into pure, excited, "I'm pumped" excitement. I'd be back stage just like jumping around and moshing with my bandmates and putting all that adrenaline into exuberance. I have no idea where I got that idea from. But it worked.

Maybe I need to re-learn how to embrace the adrenaline. Embrace the excitement. The Ace of Cups. That's it. The Ace of fucking Cups. The gigantic burst of emotions that you get on a first date. Or a first kiss. Or your first speech in front of a crowd. Or, for the fellow recluses out there, going to the fucking grocery store. XD Or riding on a subway train or something.

This is the last thing, I promise. I mentioned this in therapy. This idea that like... what I'm dealing with are just big emotions. Intense feelings and they can get really sensory overwhelming. But it honestly hasn't been that bad recently. Walking yesterday was not bad at all. At all. Very little, if any overwhelming anxiety. I was just... joyous and childlike. But there's something about the Ace of Cups that just... throws me off. Like I'm afraid of a giant surge of ANY emotion. As though... they're bad. Because of how intense they are. Oooo oh, like how I'm kinda... if I were to find a romantic partner, I would really... need to easy my way into any form of physical contact. And I mean... even hugs. Because of how much of a fucking sensory overload it is. It makes my entire body seize up, literally. I wince. So... there's a reflexive component to this... like preparing yourself to dip into an ice-cold river. It's not going to hurt you, it's not bad... in fact, it can even be good... but it's a shock to the system. Like eating a slice of cake when you haven't eaten sugar in 5 years. Or drinking two cups of tea instead of one today. XD

So... I guess my approach here is to reassure myself that the shock to the system is not that bad, as long as you just relax and ride it out and try to just... see it as another experience. An intense life experience. And in a way, I would like to end up in a place where I am... in an odd way... grateful that I get to experience the little things in life that people all around me take so... for granted... that I get to experience these things so fully.

I go walking and I'm am constantly in awe. I think I'm the only person out in the city walking around and looking up. The architecture is very interesting and alien to me. And the lighting effects of light reflecting off brick and cast iron and other different materials. And the engineering and artistry. And so many different types of plants, in so many unique different types and growth configurations. And the constant flow of water in the river, and just picturing the currents and thinking of how long it took for the rocks to erode. And god, seeing animals is so lovely, I miss it so much and cherish it every time I get to. Birds, rabbits, beavers. I love that experience. And I really do feel blessed that I have reached a point in my personal growth to be able to genuinely appreciate and find joy in so many things. It makes every day an adventure. This overwhelm is just a byproduct of me... experiencing life with the gain turned way up. And sometimes it feels like a lot, even when it isn't bad or harmful. It's just... a lot. So... I'm trying to be self-compassionate about that limitation, but also remind myself that emotional overwhelm isn't necessarily harmful, and subsequently... doesn't necessarily need to be avoided for "personal safety".

Okay, 4:30... still gotta read this back. Not bad. Might even make it to bed before daybreak.

[sanchita-pradhan]

#MARACTIVITY

#MARPOINTS

#MAKAUT

Name - SANCHITA PRADHAN

Stream - B.B.A

Sem- 3rd Sem

College - TAMRALIPTA INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT AND TECHNOLOGY

Roll no - 21205021005

Activity- Writing Poetry , Story , Blog Publishing Online

Blog Name - Road Trip to Katra ( Shri Vaishnodevi)

Vaishno Devi is beautiful temple situated in a cave in the Trikuta mountain in Jammu and Kashmir, the Vaishno Devi temple is one of the most popular pilgrimages in India. Located at an altitude of 5200 feet, you have to go through a trek of nearly 12 km from the base camp at Katra.

Vaishno Devi is open throughout the year, but the best time to undertake the journey is between the months of March and October. A lot of pilgrims visit Vaishno Devi between these months as the weather is best.

The trek is a bit steep but you can take enough stopovers to complete it.

How to Reach Vaishno Devi?

- Jammu is well connected through flights to rest of India and you can take a bus from Jammu towards Katra

- Take a direct train to Vaishno Devi( Katra) from Delhi

- Take a direct Bus from Delhi/Haryana/Punjab

Day 1

Delhi

It was a sudden plan for the trip 29th October 2019 and we friends decided to visit Vaishno Devi. We had a wait listed ticket of a train from Delhi but it never got confirmed.

We were almost about to drop the plan but all of a sudden decided to visit Kashmiri gate and took a direct private bus to Vaishno Devi. We spent the entire night in the bus listening songs and playing different types of games.

Day 2

Katra

Reached Katra in the morning around 9 AM. We took a shared room, freshen up had our breakfast. We decided to rest for few hours after that as we were extremely tired with the journey. Everyone had a sound sleep and by evening we were ready to start the trek.

We started the trek at 8 PM. The trek is a little tough but an average person can complete the same within 6 hours. There were also stairs that you could use to ascend.

There are few other means of travelling as well like ponies and helicopter but we decided to do it ourselves.

Saying in loud tone " Jai Mata Di" we kept on moving.

Me and my friend were real quick we just got into our trekking zone and within 5 hours we reached the temple. It took around 2 hours more for rest of our friends so we both decided to sleep on the pavement till the time everyone joins us back.

The temple, the lightnings, the hills were looking so beautiful.

Day 3

Vaishno Devi

We had amazing darshan at the temple and by 8 AM we were free to start our journey down. But we decided to go few KMS above to a temple called Bhairo Ghati. The trek was damn steep and it took us about 2 hours to reach the place as we were tired.

Then started our long way back to Katra again. As we were tired so took us a bit more time to reach Katra from Bhawan .

We reached at the starting point by 7 PM got to our rooms and took our Luggage. We boarded a bus back to Delhi at 10 PM.

[edens-pen]

"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"

summary | it’s always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you

pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

word count | 840

warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.

a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni ]

—

katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.

"'suki?"

he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.

the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.

"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.

he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.

your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.

not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.

just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.

"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.

"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.

you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.

in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.

he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.

the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.

by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.

"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."

bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.

"you're so strong, katsuki."

and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.

it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.

even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.

you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.

by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.

his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.

"i like the way you sound."

and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?

"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."

you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.

of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.

you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.

his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.

—

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[atuboflard]

After playing OMORI like 3 weeks ago and then diving into the Fandom, I feel like I got some omori brainrot hcs to share weee

Specially bout the parents (especially sunny's) cause almost everyone do be bashin them ( not entirely unwarranted )

So

Here's unorganized rambling

His dad is big tall ( for an Asian person cause its like accepted that they're at least ambiguous asian), like 5'11" to 6' something, while his mom is more average 5'6" ish

His dad also has a resting bitch face and is rather stoic, like sunny, making him rather intimidating (unlike sunny)

Massive baseball/softball fan, introducing Mari to it when she was teeny babey

Hc'ing that Mari was an avid baseball fan - it's why she played softball, until her knee when kaboom

Sunny's mom actually introduced.mari to the piano. She used to play it, but was never truly proficient. Getting Mari to play the piano was kinda her living vicariously thru her child

Babey Mari often plonked away at the piano because it make funni noise and cause her mom sometimes just set her in front of it as exposure theory

Sunny's dad was basically Peak Asian Student and is very good at basically everything

Honestly think it'd be interesting for Mari to actually struggle with math when she was growing up. One of her main bonding moments with her dad was them going over math when she was younger after dinner or something

Ironically Sunny is amazing at math and basically everything else, but he's either too lazy or daydreaming to actually put effort into using 100% of his brain

This mildy frustrates his dad

He still watched them do math hw tho as it was Communal Homework Time and they all did it near each other

The way their parents got together i hc as a massive long burn type thing, like it takes 10 years for them to marry style

Also hc that it was kinda not really Sunny's dad's fault for him being so quiet. They both don't like making noise, and his formative years were mostly spent with a very quiet father figure who rarely spoke, so he emulates him in that regard

This happened cause Mari was a Boisterous Bouncing Baby and did not care whatsoever about child inprintment or whatever it's called

Plus, their mom was there when Mari was still growing up

Basically mom got really busy (or was promoted wee) so she couldn't spend as much time with Sunny as she could with Mari

Despite being busier than ever, their mom still put time aside to read to them almost every day before bed (yay parenting)

Toddler Mari actually got into her dad's vintage comic stash and may or may not have trashed part of it

They went out camping at least once a year, later bringing Kel's family along with them too. Sunny and his dad often stayed up the latest to watch the stars.

This is one of the few ways they actually bond, as Sunny's not interested much in sports or exercise and they both kinda bounce off each other personality wise

Both of them can just sit together for hours without making a single noise

Of course, these good times ( and good parenting) come to an end.

(Prolly make a part 2 sometime later)

Made a part 1.5 which you can view here

[baecvlt]

Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic

Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader

a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time

It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.

“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”

You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.

His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.

“Totally”

“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”

“You don’t have to ask me twice”

He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.

“We’re gonna look at the stars”

“Ooo, nice”

He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.

"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"

"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"

"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"

"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"

"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"

You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".

"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"

"So why don't you?"

"I felt like I didn't belong"

He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".

"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"

"—Master of None."

"NO! You are the master of all!"

You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.

"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"

"Kaz..."

He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"

You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.

"'Adult couple things'?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"

"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"

He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?

You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.

"Okay"

"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"

"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"

He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.

"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"

"Please, tell me what you need"

"I want you fuck me harder"

"Whatever you say, princess"

His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.

Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.

It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".

"Do we stop?"

"No, no! Just...I need to cum"

"I'll get you there"

His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.

"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"

"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"

"Please, baby"

He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend"

"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"

You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday!

Crocodiles can climb trees.

The average person touches their face 16 to 23 times every hour.

The average person listens to 25 songs a day.

Muhammad is the most common first name in the entire world.

There are 96 bags of human poo on the moon.

On average, a 4-year-old child asks 437 questions a day.

There is now a vibrator repair service called Inspect-Her-Gadget.

The mango is the most popular fruit in the world. It also helps against cancer, clears skin and lowers cholesterol.

Hans Christian Andersen would mark each time he masturbated with a cross in his diary.

In 2013, a dad in China hired gamers to kill his son in video games so the son would start looking for a job and get a life.

For every 100 ml of beer you drink, your body produces 160 ml of urine.

Chinese drivers are stuck in traffic jams for the equivalent of nine days a year.

Peacocks fake orgasm noises to trick peahens into thinking they’re more sexually active.

Residents of Alaska are the Americans most likely to search for alien themed pornography.

After Barack Obama visited Kenya in 2015, two women named their sons Air Force One.

The word ‘mortgage’ comes from a French word that means ‘death contract.’

During mating season, lions have sex from 20 to 40 times a day for multiple days.

50% of Internet users will quit waiting for a video to load after 10 seconds.

A 'nickelodeon' was a small type of theatre where you could watch movies that cost a nickel in the early 1900s.

The average millennial has already worked as many jobs as most people in their fifties have throughout their entire career.

When people say "you've changed " there's a 95% chance that you just stopped acting the way they wanted you to.

Half of all earwigs prefer to use only their right penis. The other half prefer to use only their left. Scientists aren't sure why.

Some of the best moments in life are the ones you can't tell anyone about.

Women reach full emotional maturity around age 32, while men finish maturing around age 43.

Macaulay Culkin was paid $100,000 for ‘Home Alone’ and $4.5 million for ‘Home Alone 2’.

Children's brains start tuning out their mother's voice around the age of 13, according to researchers at Stanford Medicine.

Texas is so huge that El Paso, in the western corner of the state, is closer to San Diego, California, than it is to Houston, Texas.

In 1985, there was a condom delivery service at Harvard University. Their slogan was, “We’ll come before you do.”

Once you've accepted your flaws, no one can ever use them against you.

Spending long periods with negative people who constantly complain can physically shrink your brain.

According to a study from the University of Vienna, you not only look like your dog, you look like your car.

Healthy men typically experience between three and five erections during a night’s sleep. Each lasting for 25-30 minutes.

There's a ‘superhero’ called Normalman. In his world, he is the only person without superpowers on a planet full of superheroes.

Henry Cavill initially missed the call about starring as Superman in 'Man of Steel' because he was too busy playing World Of Warcraft.

According to a study published in the British Medical Journal, you are better off taking sexual health advice from Google Assistant than from Siri.

A survey says those who wear black are seen as serious and reliable. Almost 50% women and 64% of men agree that black exudes confidence.

A Chinese brand of smart chastity device came with a description of how to remove it with a screwdriver after researchers found it was possible for hackers to lock them remotely around people’s genitals.

Louis Armstrong always wore a Star of David as a tribute to the Jewish family who took him as a child and gave him money to buy his first horn.

Newfoundland, Canada is home to the small town of Dildo. In 2019, a porn website offered to run free advertising to support tourism to the town.

Ben Affleck shut down production on ‘Gone Girl’ (2014) for four days because, as a Boston Red Sox fan, he refused to wear a New York Yankees cap on screen.

The vocals for Hozier's ‘Take Me to Church’ were not recorded in a studio. The demo was recorded in the attic of his parent's house. The record label thought the vocals were so powerful that they left them.

Lee Child’s character Jack Reacher got his name from a shopping trip. When Child retrieved a can from a high shelf his wife said, “Hey, if this writing thing doesn't pan out, you could always be a reacher in a supermarket.”

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

PS

One of today’s facts may not be true but it made me laugh.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part Two

CW: Described death of whumper, BBU, implications of pet whump, references to noncon, dehumanization, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Unsolved Murder of Henry “Brute” Hanlon and the Box Boy Killer

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

2 weeks ago

I’m back, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! I really appreciated the questions and discussion under my last write-up, and a few of you really encouraged me to keep working to provide a part two to my Serial Killer Box Boy series, so here it is!

In Part One, we looked at the mysterious death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, who died of cardiac arrest due to an undiagnosed heart defect (and likely head trauma played a part) and was found at the bottom of the stairs inside his California home. The only valuable possession missing from his property was his legally-purchased Box Boy, who fled the city wearing Nathaniel Benson’s shoes and using his money to buy a bus and then train ticket. 

The last confirmed sighting of the runaway Box Boy (and Benson’s possible killer?) was in Red Hills, California, a large-ish city a couple hours south of Benson’s house by train. 

Questions remain around Benson’s death: did he suffer cardiac arrest and fall down the stairs? Did the Box Boy push him, with the shock of the trauma and injury leading to the heart attack that killed him?

Is the Box Boy merely a witness to a tragic but natural death, or the prime murder suspect?

And most importantly: If he wasn’t guilty, why did he run?

Less than a full calendar year after Benson’s death, the question of where the Boxie went after Benson died was answered… but even that answer only opened up more questions, and the sudden death of a second man places even more uncertainty into the story of a Boxie who might simply be an innocent victim - or who could be a serial killer whose makes a victim out of those who give him shelter.

Which leads us to the story of Henry James Hanlon, known to nearly everyone - including his wife - as “Brute”.

Henry Hanlon was born in a small town in Texas, but moved to Red Hills, California after finishing a stint in the Air Force. 

His parents, James Hanlon and Estella Hanlon, maiden name Brickers, had had their first child, Henry’s older brother William “Bill”, right out of high school, born six months after their wedding day. Henry came three years later, and his sister Roberta “Bobbie” one year after that.

Henry was a perfectly normal, cheerful little boy, always toddling after his older brother and trying to join in the games of the older kids in town. His parents recalled him as the quintessential “middle child”, always resolving disputes and quietly getting things done. He received his nickname of “Brute” in fifth grade, when a classroom bully was harassing a female friend of Henry’s and Henry decided to take action. The only information I could really hunt down on this was some old school records that I found on a message board, and I can’t really verify if they’re real, but they suggest that the bully was sent home injured and Henry received a three-day suspension.

After that, it seems, anyone and everyone - even teachers - called Henry Hanlon “Brute”, and he never seemed to mind.

He received perfectly average grades, enlisted in the Air Force, served without distinction but without any significant incidents, and afterwards he moved out to California, where he settled into Red Hills (then a city with a thriving industrial district that was slowly beginning its slide into something rougher) and took a job with a manufacturing company, working in their warehouse.

“Brute” dated around a bit, but it wasn’t until three years after his move that he met the woman he would marry, Ellen Patricia Barry. She was a few years younger than him, and they met at a local bar that both were known to frequent. One of Brute’s former coworkers told police that Brute was big into pool and poker, both of which he would engage in when he went to the bar, and that he met Ellen during one of the poker nights, and that Brute stated that how easily she beat him was one of the reasons he was interested in her romantically.

Ellen claims they first spoke while playing pool, not poker, and also claims she’s never played poker in her life. Why Brute would have told his coworkers a different story is unclear. 

They dated for about a year before they wed at Grace Baptist Church on a sunny summer day in 20XX. Ellen’s father gave her away while Brute’s little sister was the maid of honor. A year later, Brute’s daughter Elizabeth was born, and a couple years after that, their son Daniel.

The Hanlons lived a charmed life - they owned a cute three-bedroom cottage home (bought and given to them by Ellen’s parents as a wedding gift) in a good part of town with a little white fence around the property and a yard big enough for the children and dog to play in. Ellen was part of the local PTA and active in her church, and Brute himself had the appearance of a man totally content with everything he had.

But Brute Hanlon had a secret.

Ellen continued to believe he was employed by the manufacturing company, but he actually left his employment there years before his death. Instead, he seems to have transitioned into making his money “under the table”. Ellen wouldn’t discover any of this until after his body was located… in a secret house he’d never told her about, in one of the roughest parts of Red Hills.

Without her knowledge, Brute purchased a two-bedroom home with cash directly from its previous owner that was badly in need of repair in the Pauls Mill neighborhood. Once a “company town” from the 1930’s - 1950’s that was absorbed into Red Hills as it grew in the 60’s, Pauls Mill today is the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows if you belong there, or don’t, and it’s best if you belong.

Brute performed a few very cursory repairs to keep it livable, laid down some new carpet, and then used it as a kind of secret base for the unsavory activities he didn’t want Ellen or the children to know about.

While his family believed he was at work at the factory, Hanlon was in fact hosting poker games, selling illicit narcotics and unlicensed firearms, and generally making quite a bit more money than he had with legal employment entirely under-the-table. He would spend his day making connections (and money) through these activities, then go home right at 5 pm sharp to his loving family, eat dinner at 6 pm, help his kids with their homework and hear about their day, and settle in for an evening playing the loving husband and doting dad.

Somewhere during this time period, Brute told Ellen he was setting up a “poker night” with his friends again, now that the kids were school-aged. 

What he did instead was drive down to the corner of Holt and McCormick streets, known to all locals as the Red Hills “red light district”, and pick up prostitutes, usually simply meeting with them in his car, but occasionally taking them to a nearby motel.

After his body was found, police showed his picture around to a variety of the individuals who make their living at Holt and McCormick, and more than a dozen locals immediately recognized him. 

Some described him as a regular customer who wasn’t particularly special or notable beyond the simple fact that he never tried to renege on payment and could be relied on to always be looking for someone on a particular night of the week… but others, almost entirely male, said he could be violent. A few described being injured enough that they had to seek medical treatment after meeting him. The same individuals stated that he insisted on using dehumanizing and insulting language to speak to them during these encounters, and that he was often unable to perform unless he did so.

One individual, who gave his name as “Mix”, mentioned that the last few times Brute had engaged his services, he had brought along a collar and insisted Mix pretend to be a Box Boy. 

During this time period, Brute continued to be an active, involved, and loving parent. 

He was home right on time every night except “poker night”, attended his chlidrens’ recitals and baseball games on the weekends. He often took them to the Red Hills Zoo, local parks, and even did a weekend trip to Berras to see the Berras Aquarium, stay overnight in a hotel as a family, and then visit a redwoods park before returning home.

Six months before his death, Brute’s visits to the red light district abruptly stopped. Instead, he apparently met with a local prostitute, engaged his services, and took him home… for good. 

The best record we have is that one woman, Needie Brandt, remembered seeing Brute leading a shorter, angular young man to his car one night, and described the young man as “one of those runaway Boxies, collar and all. Poor thing was half-starved”. 

Runaways, especially Romantics, are picked up by police from time to time in Red Hills. Most Romantics don’t really know any other way to survive, so prostitution is a common way to make ends meet. Needie said the young man had been seen around the area for a couple of weeks, right alongside the rest of the working people in the red light district, and that after this one night she saw Brute Hanlon lead him into the car, she didn’t see him again.

Asked if she remembered a name, Needie only shrugged and said that even if she did, it wouldn’t be a real one. Which is probably a good point. 

Somewhere in here, Brute began to date outside of his marriage while his family believed he was out with friends playing poker. He took dancing lessons with one Susan Krieger, had a serious relationship with a Lucy Graham, and was apparently occasionally taking a Natalie Dorn out for dinner.

Ellen was never informed about these out-of-wedlock interests. 

Brute’s family knew nothing. When his eldest son went to state with marching band his freshman year of high school, Brute Hanlon was right there cheering him on.

Then, just two days later, he presumably went right back to brutalizing the Box Boy he was keeping in his secret second home.

We don’t have a record of what exactly transpired within the house after Brute took the runaway Box Boy in. What we do know is what the police found later on.

On October 18th, 20XX, around midnight, Ellen Hanlon called police to report her husband missing after he did not return from his regular poker night. His car was located in the parking lot of an abandoned FoodMart, but a friend of Brute’s came forward to say he often parked there and carpooled with friends when going out.

None of Brute’s possessions were inside, and it didn’t appear the car had been touched by anyone but Brute himself when it was dusted for fingerprints or signs of DNA. Brute’s friends who knew about his secret activities weren’t telling, and Ellen and the children didn’t know anything about their seemingly loving husband and father’s double-life. 

At first, the trail seemed like it would go cold, and investigators were frustrated that they had so little to go on.

Then, on October 29th, 20XX, Brute’s neighbor (who apparently asked that his name not be given) called the police department complaining about how the small two-bedroom house next door had begun to smell “like something died in there”, and that he hadn’t seen his neighbor leave or return in days, which was very unusual.

When police arrived, the front door was unlocked. Officer William Keys, the first one inside, later described the smell as “unmistakable. I knew exactly what we’d find the second we walked in that door.”

He was right.

What they found was the bloodied and decomposing body of Henry “Brute” Hanlon, lying on his back in the middle of a small unremarkable living room, on a dirty and stained carpet. He had been viciously stabbed more than fifty times. One even went so far into Brute that there was an exit wound through his back. Medical examiners would later state that at least seven of his wounds would have been directly fatal, but that he had died within the first few and most of the wounds were technically post-mortem.

The murder had been committed by someone who had a very personal reason for the killing. Investigators believe this individual was “absolutely enraged”.  

Next to his body was the murder weapon, along with a set of buckles and strips of leather that mystified the officers. These were eventually identified as modified leg braces, but rather than straightening bent or injured legs, they forced the wearer to keep their legs at nearly right angles, which would ensure they had to crawl rather than walk. They appeared to be homemade.

Bloodied smears and footprints led the officers down a hallway and to the bathroom, where there was evidence someone had showered, changed clothes, and then left.

The same neighbor who informed police about the smell also remembered seeing, on October 16th or 17th (later determined that it was likely the 17th, the day that Brute did not return home from “work”), a young man wearing an oversized coat, sweatpants, and a too-large t-shirt walk out of Hanlon’s house and down the street. The young man was on the short side, the neighbor said, had an angular face, and a visible scar at the corner of his mouth and another along the side of his face. He had the collar of the coat flipped up, and the neighbor doesn’t recall if he wore a collar or not.

He had dark eyes, and short but shaggy dark hair that seemed to have been cut hurriedly and unevenly, and he waved at Hanlon’s neighbor without pausing or speaking as he walked past.

Tests on fingerprints and DNA located within Brute Hanlon’s secret second home would reveal that the Box Boy who once ran from Nathaniel Benson after his death was the exact same one who ran from Brute Hanlon after murdering him. The Boxie’s fingerprints were all over the murder weapon… and everywhere else, too.

Within Brute’s home, more knives were found, along with what looked like a badly-crafted homemade whip and some other supplies. A few of the things investigators found appeared to be essentially identical to what was found in Nathaniel Benson’s home. Other things were different (“animalization” was mentioned in some of the reports, but what I’ve been able to find is seriously vague for some reason). 

Possibly related, a series of dog leashes purchased from a local pet-supply store were found throughout the home, but there was no evidence of an actual dog. In the home’s main bedroom was a perfectly normal queen-sized bed that was clearly Brute’s, with a small side table, a large dresser, and an attached bathroom. 

There was absolutely nothing outwardly out of the ordinary, besides the room being very plain and impersonal. Makes sense, since Brute almost never slept there. 

In the second bedroom, however, there was army-style cot with a thin blanket and sheet, three folded shirts on the floor, two sets of bloody metal handcuffs hanging off the cot’s frame at the top and bottom, and a bucket next to the bed. Two metal bowls, clearly of a style meant to be a dog’s food and water bowls, were next to the door. One still had water in it. The window was painted and nailed shut, and bars had been installed over the windows.

Investigators determined the bars were on the house when Brute Hanlon purchased it and had been installed by the previous owner. No reason for that installation was ever given.

Investigation revealed trace amounts of evidence of blood, but nothing much. However, the living room and dining area both showed poorly-cleaned bloodstains that were much older than Hanlon’s murder, including discolored patches on the walls.

A contract for a 24/7 “master/slave” style relationship was found in the top drawer of the dresser, signed ‘Pet’ at the bottom, and with Brute’s name alongside it. However, both signatures match Hanlon’s handwriting, and the Boxie is not believed to have actively signed it, as he would be illiterate at best. Plus, Box Boys are not legally allowed to enter into any contract, anyway, since they can’t understand obligations at that level, so even if he had signed it, it wouldn’t have been considered remotely valid.

I mean, not that those contracts are legal, but... you get my point.

Also located in that drawer were more than one hundred photographs showing the Boxie in a variety of compromising situations and positions. Several of these photos had Brute himself clearly visible in them, and a few had other individuals who have since been identified as Brute’s associates in his more illicit activities.

Interrogations of those associates led to more than seven further arrests for illegal gambling, the production and sale of illicit drugs, and illegal weapons sales. Those interrogations are also how we know about what Brute Hanlon was up to in-between Little League games and Girl Scout meetings.

Those associates claim that Brute kept a “secondhand Box Boy”, muzzled him so he couldn’t speak whenever guests were over, and that often ‘poker night’ simply turned into a game where the assorted guests and Brute himself repeatedly assaulted the Boxie. The associates claimed they thought the entire thing was consensual, but frankly… given the overwhelming evidence that the Boxie had to be kept restrained and was often seriously injured by these assaults... that’s doubtful.

Ellen and her children, who had previously been very visible and spoke often to local news stations about Henry’s disappearance, withdrew after his body was found and his second, secret life revealed - and have never given a single public statement or made a public appearance since. 

Ellen moved her children out of Red Hills, moving back in with her own parents, briefly, in northern California. Where they went after that is unknown, but they appear to have left the state and Ellen may have changed her surname. Investigators are firm in their belief that Ellen knew nothing about her husband’s secret life.

I would give my right arm to know what his son and daughter think about it, and if they ever suspected what their devoted dad was up to when he wasn’t at home.

So, what happened to the Boxie after he left the house and disappeared down the block from the witness who saw him?

In short… no one knows for sure.

After murdering Brute Hanlon and cleaning off the evidence that must have been all over him, the Boxie simply fades away. He could have been anywhere, doing anything at all. There is a brief sighting of him on CCTV footage at the local bus station, where he is in line to buy a ticket… and then abruptly looks up, apparently noticing the camera and looking directly into it, then turns and walks quickly away.

The footage is grainy, but the Boxie does appear to be wearing his collar.

He isn’t seen in Red Hills again.

Instead, he reappears one more time before his final murder and disappearance… more than a year later, in a little town right along the border with Nevada.

Part 3 will go into how the investigation into the death of a quiet little oddball named Robert Weber reveals a basement full of skeletal bodies. But our Boxie isn’t the cause.

Instead, Robert Weber’s murder solves a series of related murders police had been stymied by for more than a decade, and a Box Boy who may have been meant to be Weber’s next victim instead turned accidental vigilante with a final killing of his own.

Or maybe I should say, his final killing so far.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary 

[aching-tummies]

Quiet in the Library!

I think I lived out a kink-scenario again completely on accident today (note, this was written a couple of days before posting due to a busy schedule).

My area is currently experiencing an unprecedented heat wave. We're normally a colder climate so built-in AC units are not a thing in our area. Older houses come with ways to heat one's house, but nothing to cool it down because our climate is normally either cold or freezing. On my day off from work I decided that I wanted to go out somewhere with AC to kill time. I had some stuff I needed to work on and some things I needed to print off so I made plans to head to a public library and work/chill for a couple of hours.

I discussed my plan with family members. Some family members are going through medical treatments and stuff, so the entire household has been wary of going outside and potentially bringing germs and other stuff back home with them. I'd be going out for "recreational" purposes. We have a printer at home but it is only connected to someone else's desktop...so if I absolutely had to print something off I'd have to hop onto that computer...which I have done in the past...so the library trip was more for the idea of spending a couple of hours in a building with AC going. I wanted to let family know of my plans so that they wouldn't plan for me to be at home...and also offered the idea of someone tagging along with me if they wanted to beat the heat in the library too.

Turns out someone else was toying with the idea of going on a grocery run but they were on the fence because of the heat wave. I suggested that I'd tag along with them on the grocery trip, help them carry items and all, and then they could drop me off at the library and save me one trip on transit...I'd take transit home when I was ready. With that plan, I suggested that we eat breakfast at home because I had plans to buy lunch outside while on my library trip and I did not want to have to buy or eat two fast-food meals in one day. This was all discussed the night before my day off, fyi.

Plan made, upon waking up we worked together to put breakfast on the table. Unfortunately, my first task upon waking was to chug some ice-cold water out of the fridge. It was hot and I was sweating not even 10 minutes after waking up. The shock of cold water so soon after waking gave me cramps. Imagine how you'd react to being rudely woken up by someone dumping a bucket of ice-water on you...yeah, that's exactly how my stomach reacted. I hid in my room, doubled over with cramps, and left the rest of breakfast prep to family members.

Something went wrong with breakfast, apparently, that resulted in half of the food being inedible so I ended up eating about three mouthfuls of food and leaving the rest for other family members. The spoiled breakfast put other family in a bad mood so they reneged on our plans. Timing-wise, it resulted in a mad dash to the bus stop for me after swallowing my third mouthful of food because I had decided I'd be in the library today. The little food I had eaten was only barely enough to whet my appetite and my stomach was grumbling and snarling for more by the time I reached the bus stop. I rubbed my tummy a little to try to calm it because part of it was still griping over the ice-wakening.

When I got to the area with the library, I had a choice to make: walk further in the heat, by-pass the library, to find food at a nearby food-court first...or hit the library as intended, spend a few hours there, and then search for food hours later. The heat made my decision for me...looking for food first would have resulted in double the amount of walking in the heat because I'd be bypassing the library only to return to it after getting food. My stomach had calmed down on the bus ride (thanks to some discreet tummy rubs) and was no longer grumbling at me.

I hunkered down in the library with my earbuds in. It's been over a year since I set foot in a library due to the pandemic shutting them down for in-person services. I missed this. My favorite thing to do in the summer in previous years was to bring my laptop to a library and enjoy the ambience and the air-conditioning. It doesn't cost anything but transit fare so I did this often before the pandemic hit. I was enjoying myself. I felt a little self-conscious though because people that walked by my table gave me strange looks...and I don't know why. I had my mask on, other people at other tables were doing the same as I--had their laptops out and were working on Word-Processing documents. I'm at the age where I can totally blend in as a post-secondary student...so I couldn't fathom why I was getting strange looks and I kept on checking if my hair was out of place or if I had something on my clothes.

When I wrapped up my work, I shut down my computer and pulled by earbuds out...that's when I realized that the rumbling I felt throughout my three hours at the library was not due to my music being too loud. The grumbles had come back with a vengeance and apparently had been going for at least two and a half hours. Something about tables always seems to act as an echo chamber for stomach growls and these ones were audible...so...yeah...my best guess as to why people were giving me odd looks: my tummy was growling and they heard it.

To add to my embarrassment, a stunningly attractive person was in the table behind me. There was no way he didn't hear my growling tummy. I packed up, printed off my stuff, and left the library in a rush in order to spare myself further embarrassment.

Onto food. I stopped by a nearby convenience store to hunt for drinks. Pro-tip when eating at a food court or going to the movies or something: drinks and snacks are cheaper if you get them from a grocer or a convenience store or something than if you were to get them at the food court or theatre. I know, it's bad to do that to a theatre, but most of the people I know working in theatres tell me that they don't mind if you bring outside food as long as you don't leave evidence...don't throw out your own wrappers and zipper bags in their trash bins and don't leave bottled drinks and stuff lying around. You shouldn't do that sort of thing if you bought concessions at the theatre either...but yeah.

The convenience store here almost always has a "3 for $5" sale on drinks...it's just a matter of which brand/flavors are on sale when I go. I lucked out and it was on 500mL bottles of lemonade that day...so I trudged over to the food court carrying 1.5 litres of drinks. I was hungry and it was hot, so I ended up buying some of those premade sushi platters. It wasn't a big one...8 pieces or so. I bought a small bento box as well that basically just had some meat on top of the rice and a side of vegetables. I was hungry, so I was sure that this amount of food was alright for me to finish in one sitting. In previous trips I'd bought a 2-item large bento and the same sushi platter...I'd be able to finish the bento and maybe eat 2 of the rolls before being full in previous trips, so I was sure that what I had bought would fit comfortably in my stomach.

I forgot to factor in thirst. It was a hot day and all, so I ended up drinking more lemonade than I otherwise would have. I drank 2 of the bottles during my meal...so an entire litre of drink went into my stomach along with the food. By the end of my meal all that was left on my plate was one roll from the sushi platter. I brought it to my lips but my stomach definitely didn't want it and it was too hard to swallow.

My gut was packed. The litre of lemonade (as well as about half a cup worth of water from a waterbottle) filled up my tummy and brought me to 'stuffed' rather than simply 'full', The food alone would have comfortably brought me to 'full' as I usually only have my waterbottle with me for meals so I don't drink too much.

I was wearing a loose button-up shirt over top of a camisole and pants that day. The clothes were very flattering and highlighted my slimmer waist. I've got a higher BMI than is considered normal/healthy...but my figure is basically on the bigger end of average rather than into full blown obese territory...and most of my fat distribution goes toward my bust, arms, and thighs so my stomach was flat in those clothes. Not after lunch, that's for sure.

My stuffed tummy was aching, stretched and fit to bursting. The glut of food and drink had rounded out my stomach and I was immensely glad for the loose button-up hiding the evidence. I sat at the table for a while, unwilling and unable to stand up because my stomach felt so heavy and there was pressure at the base of my esophagus from all the food. I was terrified that I'd throw up if I moved and jostled my tummy. I spent a few minutes discreetly rubbing my tummy under the table as I flipped through headlines on my phone. I wasn't paying attention to my phone, mentally begging my stomach to start digesting so that I could finally move.

When I finally got up, I opted to walk around the mall for a bit in hopes of coaxing faster digestion. My stomach churned and sloshed the whole time. Surprisingly, there wasn't really any gas in my guts. It was all liquid and solid food. The rice must have absorbed some of the liquid because everything felt like it had swelled up inside of my belly. The stretch was intense. Thanks to my clothes, I felt like some of those "surprise inspection" fanarts I've seen floating around. If I had a partner and a discreet/private setting, I wouldn't have minded playing out a "surprise inspection" scenario. I was alone in public and terribly shy and embarrassed about my tummy though. If anyone tried to press their palm into my tummy at that moment I'm sure I would have been embarrassed and that I would have thrown up from all of the pressure in and on my tummy. I was stuffed to the point it hurt--my stomach felt like it was on the verge of a rupture.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I am not going to join your band”

Summary: You’re longtime best friends with Mitch Rowland and you’re in love with him. When he starts working with Harry you tag along and watch as Mitch falls in love with Sarah. But Harry watches them too and you realize you have each other. 

A/N: Why is this lowkey a Mitch fanfic at the beginning OMG - i didn’t mean for it to be like that but it kind of reads that way. I will definitely be doing a part 2 I just wanted to kind of set the stage for what is to come (likely another three part kind of thing). NOT (really) PROOFREAD AND FEEDBACK MUCH APPRECIATED (I love hearing from you)

Word Count: 2.6k 

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, otherwise this is just HS1 Studio FLUFF

Part 2

---

All your life had been exceptionally boring. And you had no complaints. You were from a family with two parents, two siblings, and a pet. You went to public school and performed well, but never excelled in anything because you didn’t care to. You chose to go to college just an hour away from your hometown, a small liberal arts school. Your life was, by all accounts, average. You weren’t super popular and you weren’t bullied excessively around town. You just existed there.

The only thing, or person, rather, in your life that you really thought made it exceptional was Mitch. Mitch grew up next door to you when you were kids, he was a few years older but he didn’t mind hanging with you. You eventually became best friends and did everything together. Sneaking in through his window to play with his pet lizard when you were seven. Sneaking out with him to drive around in his car and drink stolen alcohol when you were sixteen. You did everything with Mitch. You thought he was your soulmate. While he was quiet with others and that sometimes freaked them out, you either enjoyed the silence or got to see his truly imaginative and beautiful personality.

Mitch was a musician all his life and you sat with him when he learned to play on his thrifted first ever guitar and attended every one of his high school rock band’s shows, even if that meant sneaking into a bar at fourteen.  

Staying close to home wasn’t hard because that’s where Mitch was. Even if nothing ever had even remotely happened between you and Mitch, you held out hope. He had thought about it just once, if neither of you found anyone else it might be nice to have a family together, but he had dismissed it quickly. Mitch saw you as a little sister and loved having you as his best friend who he could tell anything to, but it was never going to be anything more for him.

So there you and Mitch were, living your little lives in Middle America, nothing to your names, but some average education, affordable apartments, and going-nowhere jobs. That is, until one day Mitch’s roommate called him up to ask if he could come play guitar for some musician’s album he was working on. The musician’s guitarist had called in sick and Mitch’s roommate had volunteered Mitch for the job. That’s when Mitch’s life changed, but what about yours?

It was heading into the second week of Mitch working on the musician’s album, who you had found out to be the famous Harry Styles. Mitch had come home after the first day and called you to come over. When you arrived, he told you how Harry and him had gotten along so well and Harry had invited him to keep coming back and playing on the album. You had never seen Mitch so excited and you were happy for him. You couldn’t help the twinge in your heart though when he kept bringing up someone named ‘Sarah’. She was apparently the drummer and had been very nice to Mitch, as well.

Now Mitch had this whole other life and you were sat there like what the hell am I supposed to do now? Then on that Saturday evening, after a long day in the studio for Mitch, he had come over to watch a movie and unwind with you, he asked if you wanted to tag along to the studio with him on Monday and see how it’s going. He was always telling you how cool everything was and you were quick to jump at the chance to both hang out with Mitch and see him doing what he loved.

On Monday, Mitch picked you up and drove you to the studio. When you got inside the building you were already amazed. The place was small, but so incredibly cool to you. You had never been to a real recording studio before and one of the things you and Mitch loved to do together was music - listening to it, playing it, buying it, so this was an unforgettable experience. Mitch walked through one of the bigger studios doors and the two of you entered the part of the studio that was where all the soundboards and tech was.

Harry, the man who had practically fallen in love with Mitch as well, was inside the room already. He turned to Mitch and beamed his large smile, his teeth a shiny white. You could tell why everyone in the world was in love with Harry just from that smile, it was truly an ‘award-winning smile’. “Mitch!” he exclaimed and gave him a tight hug. Mitch only smiled softly. When Harry pulled back his eyes flitted over to your figure standing just slightly behind Mitch. “You’ve brought a friend ‘round, that is so lovely!” he first said to Mitch and then turned back to you, “What is your name, love?” You extended your hand and said your name, Harry only glanced at your hand and then pulled you into a hug as well, a slightly less exuberant hug, but a hug nonetheless. You loved Mitch, but you didn’t understand how this bright and bubbly man had warmed up so quickly to Mitch’s quiet and solemn exterior.

Harry looked at Mitch with something in his eye you couldn’t quite place after the three of you chatted for awhile. “Well, you’re very lucky to have this man in your life, Y/N, he’s one of the best guitarists I’ve ever met, like, holy fuck, he is good.” You smiled at his praise for Mitch, and glanced adoringly at Mitch. Mitch only ducked his head at Harry’s enthusiastic praise. Whatever reasons Harry had for adoring Mitch, you were pretty sure it meant Mitch’s chance to get out of his old life, including you.  

Then, it was time for them to get to work. Harry and Mitch had already written one song together, or at least Mitch had helped Harry to finish it. Today, Harry wanted the band to play it for the first time all together. Harry had told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch in the soundboard room. You watched as the band set up all of their equipment and you felt your ears burn when you saw Mitch talk to the woman you identified as Sarah. You didn’t want to be jealous, you hated feeling possessive over a man that you weren’t even with, but you just felt like you were watching Mitch slip from your life more and more as every moment passed.

The band started playing the opening chords of what Harry had called Woman when he said into his microphone, “Take 1...of many for Woman.” You smiled as you watched Mitch get into his guitar playing for the song, he sounded amazing. But as much as you liked to watch Mitch play, you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he began to sing. He was talented, beyond talented, his voice sounded angelic to you. He grooved a bit to the instruments as he sang the lyrics. It was a beautiful song, you thought, wishing you could have someone write a song like that about you.  

As the song reached over half way through, Mitch breaks into a rad guitar solo and for the first time since Harry began singing you looked back over to Mitch. That was kind of where the song ended, there was just a final time when Harry proclaims “Woman!” and it ends. You weren’t sure if it was normal to stand and applaud after a studio recording session, but you did anyway. You jumped up and down a little and clapped. The entire band smiled back at you and Harry leaned into the microphone, “Y/N, why don’t you come in here and join us?” You happily agreed and went into the adjoined room.

Harry told everyone to take a breather for about five, so the band was drinking water and chatting. When you got there you immediately belinned to Mitch and began to gush over how much you loved his solo and his playing throughout. Mitch talked in hushed tones back to you, saying where he thought he might speed up or slow down at parts. You didn’t notice Harry had walked up behind you and you jumped a bit at his voice. “Didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. How’d you think it sounded?” Harry inquired. You tilted your head to look up at him, while Mitch was perched on an amp, Harry stood tall beside you. “It was lovely, the lyrics were epic and I loved the beat of it. I was just telling Mitch how amazing his guitar solo was…” your cheeks brightening when you mentioned Mitch. Harry had some knowing smile again.

“You’ll have to thank Sarah for delivering that beat, however, Mitch and I wrote those lyrics,” Harry continued the conversation with you. You couldn’t believe how normal he was for being a world famous singer and boy band member - just a year ago. One Direction was a huge deal, yet here Harry was asking you how you’d liked the song  and talking to you like you knew a thing or two about music. You and Harry talked about the song for a bit more, Mitch staying silent for almost the entirety of the conversation, you noticed his eyes wandered over to Sarah who was talking to Adam, the bassist. Then, it was time for Harry to listen to the song when the tech crew came back. When he did, he made notes for both the band and the tech crew and everyone got back to work. On the third go around of the song, you decided you were done giving them a round of applause.

They worked on Woman for half the day. When lunch time rolled around, Harry decided he was happy with how the song sounded, ‘good for now’ was all he said, obviously still not satisfied with how it sounded. During lunch you sat beside Mitch and across from Harry. The more you got to know Harry, the more you liked him. He was very playful and free spirited, but also took his passion very seriously and was endlessly grateful for the opportunities he had been given. As you warmed up to Harry, you noticed Mitch being a bit more animated. Had he been keeping his guard up because he wasn’t sure if you and Harry would get along?

There was still sometime before the break ended, but everyone had finished eating. You excused yourself to the bathroom, but when you came back, you saw Mitch occupied with Sarah. You looked helplessly on as he smiled and laughed with her. You felt left out as you really didn’t know anyone else but Mitch there. Sure you had gotten to know Harry a bit, but he was a rockstar and a guy you barely knew, you couldn’t just go up to him and ask to become your new best friend. Harry noticed you standing alone and walked up behind you, this time knowing to tap your shoulder to make you aware of his presence. You turned around at the touch you felt on your right shoulder, you were greeted with Harry’s bright eyes and soft smile. “Do you play any instruments?” Harry asked you. That’s random. “Eh, I can play some piano and guitar. I love piano, but I don’t keep up with it as much as I should.” “Well, you should keep coming here with Mitch. You could get some practice in, we’ve got a piano here somewhere,” Harry said as he raised his head and started to look dramatically around the room. “‘S right behind you,” you smiled at the man who had given Mitch a chance and now seemed to be giving you a chance, too. Harry whipped his head around, “Ahh…Well I’ll make sure it’s tuned for you for tomorrow.” You thanked him and the two of you began chatting about Harry’s visions for the album.

Three Weeks Later

“I am not joining your band, Harry, I’m not even that good of a piano player!” You threw your hands up. “Will you hush? You’re amazing, quit denying it,” Harry grinned as he pinned your arms down to your sides and flipped you around, “Now play exactly what you showed me earlier.” He marched you to the piano and plopped you into the accompanying stool. You huffed a sigh and placed your fingers on the keys. “You don’t even have piano on all-” “Ap, bahp, bahp! Plaayyy…” Harry cut you off and then added, “Please?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Such a baby.

You had been coming with Mitch to the studio for almost a month now. After your first day, Harry had retuned the idle piano for you and you had messed around with it when they weren’t recording. You and Harry had become closer over the time, he realized you were almost the female version of Mitch, but slightly less shy and slightly more opinionated. And you had realized that Harry was the kindest man you knew, only after Mitch. Mitch and Sarah had also become closer in the past three weeks. As much as it pained you to watch, you could never look away. The band and you started to go out every night and every night Mitch and Sarah always ended up sitting apart from everyone else wrapped in their own world. It hurt your heart so much, but you pushed through, happy to be around all the amazing people you had gotten to know. As well, whenever you were left alone, Harry always seemed to pop up, chatting about what was next for the album and what you had been doing on the piano earlier in the day.

Today, you had sought out Harry, wanting to show him something you’d been playing with since yesterday. When he heard what you played he brought up something he had mentioned a couple weeks ago, that you had thought was a joke, he wanted you to join the band - to play keys. You laughed it off, but Harry persisted. Now he was having you play the little random piece you had made up for everyone: the band and the crew. Your stomach was doing flips and your heart was in your throat. This was one of the main reasons you didn’t think you could be in Harry’s band, anxiety. It was minor, but you definitely had some - if your nerves in your physical body and your thoughts in your brain were any indication.

Finally, you began to play. It was the tune of what would become Sweet Creature. When you finished the early sound of it, there was silence. Sarah was the first to clap and then everyone followed quickly after. You ducked your head down and then looked up again with a smile on your face. It widened when you looked over at Harry and Mitch right by your side. You had never had people saying something of yours was great. Harry and Mitch stayed in the studio room with you, excited at the new prospect of a song. The album had reached a roadblock a couple days ago. Harry wasn’t liking any of the songs they were making and he was struggling to write any new ones. This, your art, was a breakthrough. After you had played, Mitch picked up one of the acoustic guitars laying around and began to play the same tune on the strings. Harry began to hum along. They twiddled with your tune a bit, but eventually they had to let it go for the time being. Lunch had ended and they still had to keep working on the other unfinished songs.

-

[hopelesshawks]

If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

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