#and i legitimately almost got hospital while writing one of my fics but i want to pause and talk about Trainline for a second

[the-one-that-weeps]

Reblog with your normal environment for writing vs. the most extreme conditions you've ever written a fic in

[baku-bowl]

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

------------------------------------------------

Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart. 

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?" 

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

Or

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

Or

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

[emybain]

Makeup

the other day I read over some supernova scenes that made me upset and want to write some younger nova with the anarchists for whatever reason. so, I wrote a little fic with honey and nova when nova’s 12 (and too nice for her own good like cmon the anarchists shouldve see her “weaknesses” before she went undercover as a renegade)

Masterpost of all my Renegades fics

    After nearly six years of living with the Anarchists, Nova had learned that Honey Harper was best left alone when she went into a crying meltdown. The first time she had heard the painful sobs coming from the older woman’s train car, Nova had been eight and concerned. Ingrid and Leroy advised against Nova going to comfort the distressed Anarchist, as it was normal for her. At least, normal since the Age of Anarchy came to an abrupt end and Ace was forced into hiding. 

    Tonight, however, Nova was recovering from a high fever that almost had Leroy taking her to the hospital out of desperation, as none of his concoctions or drug store medicine was helping. It was a last resort, as no one knew of Nova’s existence among the Anarchists, and a simple DNA testing could have her removed from her only family and placed in a foster home. Thankfully, as if by some miracle, she pulled through and was now resting and regaining her strength, something that would be easier if not for the pitiful wails coming from the other side of the subway tunnels. 

    Everyone else was asleep, so not even Ingrid could go and shut Honey up. Nova had a piercing headache and a sore throat that made talking like poking knives into her neck and chest, and was not really in the mood to hear the sound all night. That, mixed with her own body racking coughs, were enough to send Nova over the edge. 

    Sighing heavily, the movement ending in a pathetic wheeze she could feel squeezing her lungs, Nova snapped her copy of one of Ace’s books shut and set it beside her cot. She would have to return to her pre-Age of Anarchy literature later. For a moment, she debated making some tea to take with her just in case Honey ended up sending her away and she would need a legitimate reason for being there. But she decided against it, not in the mood for the cheap, bitter tea Leroy got from the nearest convenience store. 

    It was cold in the tunnels, being early November, the prime season for illness, so Nova grabbed the blanket off of her cot and wrapped it around her shoulders. After a second thought, she also grabbed Dolly Bear, who was sitting beside her bed. The bear was as old as Nova, and after almost twelve years of wear and tear, it’s age was beginning to show. Nova made an effort to take care of it, since it was one of her only remaining physical memories of her family, but she couldn’t always stitch up age. 

    Upon reaching Honey Harper’s door, the crying now obnoxiously loud, Nova raised a hand and knocked. Briefly, the sobs paused so Honey could allow Nova entrance into her train car. As always, Honey was at her mirror surrounded by wasps and bees of all kinds. Before her sat a collection of beauty products, some looking older than others as if they meant more than what could be seen by the eye. 

    Honey sniffled. “Oh! Nova, darling, I wasn’t expecting you. Usually it’s Ingrid who comes to my door this late at night.” She touched her curls softly with her hands, attempting to fix her messed up hairdo. 

    Nova almost retorted that she was only there to deliver the same message Ingrid would’ve eventually given, to shut up, but the words died before she could even open her mouth at the tear and mascara streaks running down Honey’s face. The empty, haunting, glassy eyes. 

    She lifted the corners of her lips up slightly and shrugged. “I just thought you might want some company?”

    Honey’s face relaxed at that, and while she didn’t smile, she pointed to a small ottaman beside her cot. “Pull that over here next to me.” Nova did as she was told, sitting and curling her knobby knees up underneath of her on the cushion. A bumble bee landed lazily on Nova’s finger, and she gently shooed it away. 

    “How’s that fever of yours been? Staying down, I hope.” Honey grabbed a tissue on her vanity and dabbed at her eyes, not doing the best job at removing her runny makeup. 

    Nova nodded, hugging her bear closer to her chest. “I’m not sick anymore, just coughing and a headache. But they’re not a big deal,” she tacked on quickly, not wanting Honey thinking that she was weak. “The fever wasn’t even that bad.”

    Honey raised an eyebrow. “Really? Last I checked, a fever of one hundred and four is not something many would classify as nothing. You’re lucky to be getting better without needing medical attention, Nova.”

    “I guess.” Nova’s fingers became distracted with a hole near Dolly Bear’s eye. “At least now I can resume my training with Ingrid.” 

    Honey turned from her to face her mirror again, checking her appearance carefully. “Is that all you care about, darling? There is more to life than fighting and weapons and blood.” A shudder ran through her body. “Not that I’m saying it’s not important. I’ve had my fair share of violence.” Her manicured hand drifted over to a mean looking wasp sitting upon a makeup compact, stroking it’s back gently with one finger. Nova averted her gaze; she had never been victim to one of Honey’s bees or wasps, but she had heard stories of how terrible they were, more painful and dangerous than a normal bee sting. She could only imagine how many had fallen to Honey’s pets. 

    “I will not rest until the Renegades pay for what happened to my family. Whatever the cost.” Nova wondered how convincing her words sounded, considering she was sitting cross legged on top of a cushion with a torn up stuffed bear clutched between her fingers, looking bony and sickly from her fever. Probably not very.

    Honey studied Nova, and Nova’s cheeks reddened at her intense stare. It wasn’t often Queen Bee paid so much attention to anyone other than herself. “How old are you again, child? Nine? Ten?”

    Her fingers tightened around the bear. “I’ll be thirteen in May.” 

    Honey hummed in her throat, then reached forward and grabbed a bottle from a pile of other bottles on her vanity. “I was eleven when my mother first let me put makeup on. Not much, just some eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick. Have you ever worn makeup before?” Nova shook her head. Her personal belongings consisted of what little she had from her life before the Anarchists and what she needed for her inventions and for survival. She would never waste money on something as self centered as makeup. Besides, she had never understood the point of makeup, or why people even liked it. 

    “Well, a girl’s go-to best friend is eyeliner.” Honey rolled the bottle in her palm. “Face me. I’ll put a little on you.” Nova watched as she unscrewed the top and pulled out a wand. Honey leaned toward Nova with the device poised between her clawed fingers; Nova shrank back on instinct. Honey rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t hurt, I promise.” 

    Nova would rather not have Honey’s hands so close to her eyes, but if it kept the woman distracted and from crying, well. Nova held back a sigh and turned toward Honey, tilting her head up. 

    “Close your eyes.” She did as she was told, and nearly flinched when the cool, wet end of the wand pressed against her inner eyelid. Honey placed her other hand on Nova’s chin to hold her still. Makeup felt weird. Nova was surprised how heavy the eyeliner felt on her eyelids when she opened her eyes up after Honey was finished, blinking rapidly. 

    She turned her head to look in the mirror, squinting to get a better look. It wasn’t often she saw her reflection, much less saw it willingly. It was nothing fancy, just a simple wing on either lid, standing out against Nova’s plain complexion. 

    “What do you think?” Honey clasped her hands together, waiting for Nova to show any reaction. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she liked it. Maybe one day she would, but that day was not today. However, due to Honey’s fragile mental state, she couldn’t just say that. 

    Nova plastered a smile on her face. “It’s different.”

    A sigh escaped the older woman’s honey-coated lips, appeased. “You’re turning into quite the pretty young lady, Nova. Almost as pretty as I was. It doesn’t surprise me, you’re parents were very attractive people, especially that handsome father of yours. I suppose it’s the Artino blood, huh? In just a few years, all the boys will be chasing after you. The ladies, too,” she added, laughing lightly. “Do you want to try now? I can teach you all the secrets to the perfect wing.” 

The mention of Nova’s parents flipped her stomach. Honey’s compliments on her looks turned her mouth sour, as she had never found herself attractive or anywhere near looking like her parents. Her face was plain, her long hair limp, and she didn’t have curves like Honey did; her body resembled a stick figure. She would rather not be in Honey’s car anymore, but glancing at the now dried tears and runny makeup left behind from Honey’s breakdown on her cheeks and her still red eyes, Nova forced herself to nod. 

She only somewhat paid attention to Honey as she dove into a lecture about the importance of a sharp wing.

[darklingichor]

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell Ramble Fest Part 5. *Spoilers*

Day 5: finished it. Okay, lots of things. Rowell's writing is absolutely addictive, I would have finished it faster if it weren't for my job and bills and stuff. Stupid responsiblites keeping me from reading.

I think I'll take each plot thread and follow it to the end.

With Levi, I sort of expected him to be Reagan’s brother, possibly twin (just by the way she reacted to the identical twin thing). Anyway, what college class allows you to read and test on The Outsiders? Can I borrow anyone’s time machine and go take it? I literally (and I actually mean literally) read that book twenty times in a row when I was fifteen. I wrung every bit of context, subtext, and not-even-in-the-text out of it. I felt like I knew Johnny and Ponyboy better than I knew some of my own family members. My best friend and I also took turns reading it out loud to each other (we did this with a lot of books, actually). I could have taken that test in about five minutes and would have been the easiest A I ever got!

Anyway, can I just say that I love the fact that Cath sees audio books as reading? Some people don’t and it annoys me to no end.

So I do like the Cath/Levi pairing, but what is it about romance in fiction? One half of the pairing doesn’t answer texts so the other half makes out with someone else? Does this happen in real life? I’m aro ace, this is completely foreign to me. I mean, I understand the concept of demiromantic and demisexual. Someone you feel connected with makes you want to do the romance or  physical thing with them. But then you wouldn’t just kiss someone else because you didn’t hear from the special someone for a couple of hours, right? How does that connection happen in the brain? Not judging just wondering about something that makes no sense to me, personally.

It was sort of interesting how the relationship progressed. I get why she was so reluctant to really go there. Cath is the embodiment of fool me once, you will not get a twice.

I like that Levi really is a nice guy. Not a guy who plays nice and then expects something because of it. He legitimately felt horrible for the kiss with the other girl.

Also often, in the stuff I watched growing up, the love interest had to "look past" the geeky stuff that the main character liked. It is cool that Levi likes Cath for everything that she is, including the stuff that Wren tries to downplay. Same goes for Cath liking Levi. Niether one of them change to make themselves "better" for the other. That seems more real to me.

I like the slight struggle they had with Reagan being Levi's ex and how they all moved passed it. The only thing I can't figure out of I like is how once the relationship solidified, Cath's anxiety seems to have, if not disappeared, then greatly reduced.

I can't figure out if that's because she had more in the way of support in the form of Wren, Levi, and Reagan, more confidence because of the reactions she got to both forms of her writting, less stress because her dad had more support from her grandmother, and all of the other things that came together for her... Or the "Got boy now, what is mental illness?" Trope.

I would say it's the former because it would make sense, but we spend so much time in Cath's head and see her struggle and overcome, in the little daily battles that are always there even with changes made in the form of healthy coping mechinisms, medication or counseling. And suddenly it just drops away... I don't know, that bugged me.

Speaking of struggles

Arthur’s episode was handled really well, and I’m completely on Cath’s side. Family comes first. I don’t care if they are uncouncious, I wouldn’t be able to consentrate on a final if a close family member were in the hospital and I wasn’t there.

The part of my brain ruled by the anxiety goblin completely agrees with Cath wanting to leave the school. The part of me that is closer related to the turtle than it should be. “This is scary, uncomfortable, painful, ect. Time to hide.”

The more reasonable part sort of agrees with her when she said she didn’t choose the school, Wren did. Why stay at a school that you didn’t want to attend in the first place? I also understand the logic behind wanting to stay home to take care of her dad. Is ot the eighteen year old kid's job to take care of the parent? Not really, but what do you do when someone you love needs help?

The more rational part also says: You have a scholarship? Stay put, kid, loans blow!

During this whole thing? Wren is still a dick. The You and dad are crazy because you let yourselves be crazy argument...

"Got a broken leg? Walk it of wussy!"

Now, is that to say that Cath's way of letting her anxiety cope with her rather than the other way around is right?

No.

But it's a lot more complicated than "Just don't let it bother you." Bitch, if she could do that she wouldn't have anxiety now would she?

I don't know a lot about bipolar but I know enough to say with confidence, that just willing the chemicals in your brain to behave is not going to cut it.

So Wren's alcohol poisoning. Can I say that I loved how it was handled? The writing got around every tired thing that can happen coming out 0f a plot element like that.

Wren and Cath did reconcile, but Cath didn't cut her a lot of slack and was matter of fact about how stupid Wren's behavior had been. Her dad didn't do the whole "I'm just glad you're okay" thing, he laid down the law. One of my favorite lines from Arthur was when he told Wren that she had to go to AA meetings.

"I'm not an alcoholic."

"Good. It's not contagious. You're going to meetings.”

I honestly wouldn't mind a story from Wren's perective over the course of this year. It would be interesting to see her partying, her relationship with her boyfriend and her thought process while she let some of her personality blaze through while hiding others.

After she and Cath make up it becomes clear that she thought that she couldn't go to parties, make new friends, have new experiences and be close with her sister and still openly love nerdy things.

Professor Piper, writing, Laura, and Simon Snow.

I get the feeling that Professor Piper is suppose to be subverting the Mary Sue stereotype. When Cath first starts the class she is in awe of this teacher. Piper is wise, talented and compassionate. She's perfect. So when she first talks down fan ficton, I thought, well if the story were to follow the Mary Sue, Cath would "realize" her folly and abandon Carry On, Simon. I knew that wasn't going to happen.

The more she bad mouths fan fiction, the more she just... Acts like nothing touches her, I thought: She's the Mary Sue... But she's almost the villain (and almost is important here because she doesn't continue down that path). I mean, she can do whatever she wants with her students' grades? What university is this? Professors have to get their grades submitted by a deadline. She couldn't hold Cath's grade just cause she felt like it. She'd have to submit an incomplete and I'm pretty sure that it would have to be made up long before it actually was.

She calls fan fic "Stillborn" as if the only ultimate reason to write is to make a living off of it, that was bitchy. She likely would have been surprised that a good number of her students probably dabble in it, because I haven't met many people who write (post Harry Potter) who didn't read some fanfic, if not write it, and that's just one fandom Yes, it is a wonderful thing to make your living doing something you love,  However, Cath is also right, you can write like some people knit or scrapbook. You can do something you love simply for the love of it.

Further more and most importantly, no writting is "stillborn" you put effort into it, it lives, if only for you.

Now, Cath is trying to not write her final project because she's scared, she's afraid that she doesn't have it in her to do with her own characters what she does so well with Baz and Simon. That doean't mean her reasoning isn't sound, it's just not sound for her.

Nick... I don't have a lot to say about Nick. I knew he was going to end up being a tool, and he was.

Same goes for the Laura thing. I agree with Cath, you don't get to walk out of being a parent and walk back in to be a fair weather friend.

Simon Snow. As a framing device first the "original" books and then Carry On, Simon was very effective. I had a hard time listening to many of them though because of the narration. Don't know why they had the narrator switch when we were in Cath's story.

Having read Carry On before Fangirl, it was interesting to see the differences between the stories. And it simaltiously gave and took away hope for the Anyway the Wind Blows.

That fantastic part where Wren tells Cath that she can't kill off Baz, that she'd always said that Baz deserved a happy ending because of everything canon and all the fics they'd written and read, had put him through.

I thought: That bodes well for Baz in the next one.

But Wren also says that Cath has to give him a happy ending because Gemma T. Leslie never will.

Then I thought: Well shit, that doesn't, does it?

And all of this means nothing, really. Carry On and Wayward Son exist outside both this book and the fictional series...

Gah! This universe is like a Russian nesting doll crossed with a rublix cube!

The little bits we get of Cath's final project were lovely, and yes, painful. Writing something personal is painful but, but cathartic a lot of the time.

I had a lot of emotions reading this book and while I like Carry On more, I think Fangirl is fantasic. Just from the two books I've read, Rainbow Rowell's speciality is to take expectations and expertly either defy them or bring them to fuition in a way that is more satisfying than what the reader might be expecting. This means I might break from my escapist reading trend a bit more often.

[proheromidoriyashouto]

Quirkless Hero!Deku and Artist/Youtuber!Shouto AU expansion

Shouto was expelled from the Hero Course by Aizawa after the Sports Festival for his refusal to use all his might (neglecting half his quirk) when the chips are down. Shouto went to General Studies and after some serious introspection post-Hosu (he was dragged along by Ende*vore to do grunt work as punishment and happened to come across Tenya and an Idaten intern he didn't know facing off against Stain) began to find solace in art and writing classes and decided to take his life into his own hands.

Shouto started a gaming channel because Ochako- while introducing him to Super Smash Bros Ultimate- noted that he has a nice voice and he likes the story-telling capabilities of games, so why not? What does he have to lose? His striking appearance and slight fame will surely garner him a boost in viewership early on, and they do.

He initially has to run the channel from Tenya's home since Ende*vore would never allow it. He starts off playing multiplayer games because those are what his friends introduce him to so they can play together, but he inevitably shifts toward single-player games that devote quite a lot of time into compelling story campaigns and exploration. His first delves are into Horizon: Zero Dawn, God of War, the Fallout series, Portal 1 & 2, the Witcher series, and the Last of Us since these are the most prominent games at the time (remakes of games in 22XX tend to release in the same year and order the originals did to get the most playtime out of fans). He’s not good at it to start. He reads from a script and he’s stiff and uncomfortable in front of the camera. He thought he was desensitized to that given his time in the limelight thanks to his name but there’s something about talking to a small webcam that feels, well, silly, and... intense. Personal. It’s a serious detractor, and the comments he receives about it are almost enough to shut down the channel for good. His friends’ support gets him through though and he starts to develop a considerable following.

Before he realizes, he’s spending all his free time playing games with purpose, creating new videos on a nearly daily basis, brainstorming how to structure  theory and lore episodes, and worrying about how his uploads are perceived. He runs charity live streams, plays fan-picked hero games, scours every last hint of lore from side-quests, get those sweet sweet completionist Platinum trophies that only like 1% of players get for every game.

Ende*vore cuts him off from his money, and inheritance. Shouto tentatively starts support pages and is surprised by the number of people willing to shell out for him. He starts to really feel the burn-out as he struggles to create more video content for awards before Momo suggests making things. Real, physical things for awards that will give him a break for the grind, and that he can use to improve his art skills. He smacks himself when he realizes that he can also use art as a way of re-connecting with his mother.

Visits at the hospital become days spent drawing, painting, sculpting, and knitting. His mother shocks him in a display of lace-making and he feels a pang of grief when he learns that it was a tradition in her family that she hadn’t been able to pass down to him. She’d taught Fuyumi and Touya a bit but Ende*vore found out and put a stop to it, saying that his legacy was the only one they needed to concern themselves with. She was too afraid of the harm her husband would bring upon the children if she tried again with Natsuo and Shouto. After hearing that there’s nothing more Shouto wants to learn (lace-crafts are his awards for months, and then on occasion for years to come).

His channel, SpicyHeathenGaming, steadily grows over the years and once he graduates from U.A., he devotes himself entirely to running it. By the time he has the formal encounter with Deku, he has millions of subscribers and has become quite comfortable in the public persona he’d crafted (it’s easy to slip into given his natural penchant for straight-man-esque dry humor). He’s almost 25, successful in a precarious field, and... happy. Genuinely at peace. There are days when he misses the rush of a fight, the satisfaction of post-rescue, and on bad days, he thinks of all the people he never saved. He schedules an appointment with his therapist and moves on.

Deku is the one to note that the Day They Met wasn’t at the construction site as he thought, but during the battle of Stain vs Team Idaten Round 2 (and U.A. Students) as the media has labelled it. Shouto is shocked but not for long. The similarities to his then-Idaten costume are prevalent in Deku’s short white mask, midnight leg guards, and heavy black soles but the rest is substantially changed. He’s vaguely reminiscent of a teal/aqua All Might- especially with his cowl on- rather than the Ingenium line now.

He’d become infamous for becoming a hero “the old fashioned way“ through interning and shadowing directly with Pros for years, foregoing hero-high school altogether.

While none of the schools outright forbid quirkless students from applying, Deku had said in his debut press conference, despite passing Ketsubutsu, Shiketsu, and U.A.’s entrance exams, I was denied admittance. They all said something to the effect of ‘I had a “weak constitution”’, ‘my “supposed passion” had been deemed insufficient hot air,’ and ‘my “heroic spirit” wouldn’t be enough to match the rigor of a top-rated hero-course’s training.’ A good friend of mine, Tenya Iida, had been at the same U.A. entrance exam as myself and after learning about my struggles put in a word for me with his family. I didn’t ask for a handout, but when the legitimate options are not truly available to you, what choice even is there? I wasn’t going to turn down the one chance I had left. Team Idaten was good to me and I wouldn’t be the man I’ve become if not for them. In all honesty, Deku shrugged, an almost apologetic look on his face, almost. I was starting to fall into a pretty dark place. I might have become a villain.

Deku had faced ire from Pros, alumni and non-alumni from the schools alike for those remarks, and public opinion had been torn between disdain for slandering the institutions of hero education or support for him having become a hero despite all the odds against him- a true, old-school origin story. All Might had surprised many by showing Deku support, and many U.A.-borne Pros had followed in his example. Ketsubutsu and Shiketsu had not been nearly as kind, with few exceptions. Deku’s rivalries with Dynamic Blitz (one-sided feud in reality), Magnitude, Cloudburst, and Sideburn Tress were almost as well-known as All Might and Endeavor back when they were heroes.

Deku was a world-wide icon for the roughly 2 billion quirkless people in existence, only one of a hand-full of quirkless Pros throughout the world since the dawn of quirks, and the first ever in Japan’s history. He was leagues above Shouto. Shouldn’t have paid him any more mind than any other civilian he’d saved. If not for Shouto’s disastrous inability to handle situations like anything resembling a normal person. He’d seen a strong, handsome, trend-setting, status-quo defying, internationally known hero up close in person, who not only recognized him for his channel but his private art blog and shop, reaching toward his evidently panicking self and had activated his right side as though it was the neglected half, and frozen their hands together.

He’d made a fucking fool of himself... but still... wound up with a number in his pocket and a wink emoji. He never got such lascivious flirting sent his way. Curses, that wink emoji. Not with his scar and eye-straining coloration and lack of proper skin and hair care. No way. What if Deku winked at him in real life? In public? Scandalous. What was he going to do?

Fuyumi. Tenya, help me.

Um, sure?

With what?

...kill me.

-Shou-!

W-why would you-!!

Please, just, vaporize me right now, I’m staring at the moon just take me by surprise, I’m begging you. Actually call Aoyama I have money.

Little brother! What’s brought this on?

That’s not an explanation! If you need help-

I... I have a date.

(Shouto is verrrr out of practice with his powers and dating and is a complete disaster gay. Izuku’s kinda suave and you can thank Tensei’s Big Brother Influence for that. Izuku saved Eri and Kouta okay I promise I have an explanation. All Might was a dick and never found Izuku to apologize. Izuku’s kinda bitter about it but he’s living his best life so :///////. OFA? Never met her. Mirio would be OFA’s 9th in this AU after losing Permeation. Will expand into a proper fic and post to AO3 when its done- I already have too many AUs at once going on.

Population estimates put humans stabilizing at about 11 billion in the 2200s - BNHA was already in modern day when quirks came and its been 200 years since then as per canon- and 20% of the population is slightly more than 2 billion. 2 billion quirkless people.

Dynamic Blitz is that motherfucker. You know who Magnitude and Cloudburst are~. Three guess as to Sideburn Tress’ identity. He wasn’t outwardly hostile but something about him set off red-flags for me. Also strikes me as having a lot of school pride.)

[protecticarus]

Hello! I’m not sure if you are still taking prompts but here’s one: Dirk finds out he has a very bad allergy the hard way (for example nuts, but it could be anything else, really), since he’s spent most of his life in Blackwing, it seems legitimate that he doesn’t know. Todd starts freaking out and makes sure that whatever Dirk’s allergic to disappears (I’d love it if they’re already together but it can also be just bromance). I absolutely love your writing, big fan :3

great prompt! I love all the “dirk learning normal life things for the first time just now bc blackwing” headcanons.& thank you so much for the kind words! it means a lot to me! x

~

Dirk walked into the apartment and immediately noticed a delicious smell coming from the kitchen.Though Dirk had insisted that he had to stay at the agency to work on a case a bit later than usual, Todd had said he had something to take care of and ran off as soon as there was a lull in the schedule for the day.Dirk made his way to the kitchen to find Todd attempting to clean up what looked like the aftermath of the murder of the chocolate man.“Todd? What are you doing?” Dirk asked with an amused voice.“Dirk! You’re home!” Todd exclaimed as he swung around to face his boyfriend.“Yes. And you’re…?” Dirk asked.“I made a cake.” Todd smiled and blushed.“You made a cake?” Dirk asked, surprised.“Yeah.”“But you don’t cook?” Dirk stated.“Yeah, well…” Todd shrugged.“So, why the cake?” Dirk asked and walked up to Todd to kiss him on the cheek as he usually did as a greeting.“Well…” Todd started awkwardly, “I just realized this morning that… Well, it’s been exactly a year since we met today and I thought… I don’t know. You’re supposed to celebrate these things, right?” He explained.Dirk felt his face warm up. “You- you baked an anniversary cake? For us?” He grinned.“Something like that.” Todd shrugged and looked at his feet.“That is… So incredibly sweet!” Dirk exclaimed.“It’s not a big deal.” Todd insisted.“You don’t bake!” Dirk argued.“Whatever, do you want cake or not?” Todd asked, embarrassed.“Yes, of course.” Dirk grinned. “Thank you, love.”Todd blushed and handed Dirk a piece of the cake. They sat at the table and ate together.“This is delicious, Todd.” Dirk said.“Well, good. Thanks, I mean.” Todd replied.“I wish I had a present for you.” Dirk said.“Oh no, it’s fine. It’s not even the anniversary of us, you know, being a couple, I just thought-“Todd was cut off by Dirk abruptly clearing his throat.“You okay?” Todd asked.“Yes, fine.” Dirk replied but kept clearing his throat in a way that sounded painful.“Did you swallow the cake wrong?” Todd asked, now a bit worried.“No, my throat just feels… Itchy.” Dirk replied. “And I have difficulty breathing.” He added after a while.“What? You can’t breathe? Oh my God, Dirk.” Todd said and stood up. “What the hell happened?”Dirk just shrugged and gasped as breathing was getting obviously harder.“How could you just suddenly not be able to-��� Then Todd froze suddenly. “Wait. Dirk, do you have any allergies?”Dirk looked up at Todd. “I don’t know?” He replied.“You don’t know?” Todd exclaimed.“My diet in Blackwing was quite simple and afterwards I lived on whatever I happened to get my hands on. This has never happened before though.” Dirk explained in a pained voice.“Okay, we’re going to the hospital.” Todd said and reached for Dirk’s arm.“Is that really necessary?” Dirk replied, now not sounding much like himself at all because of the strain in his voice.“Yes. Come on.” Todd ordered and helped Dirk up and down the stairs to the car.

-

Later in the hospital, after a shot and some oxygen, Dirk was finally breathing normally again.“You sure you’re okay?” Todd asked.“Todd, I’m fine.” Dirk assured his boyfriend.Todd still had something to say, but was interrupted by Dirk’s doctor walking in.“Hello Mr. Gently, how are you feeling?” The Doctor asked with a smile.“Much better. Thank you, Doctor Jones.” Dirk replied cheerily.“Glad to hear it. So, it seems like you had a bad allergic reaction to peanuts. Did you eat something that you didn’t know had peanuts in it?” Doctor Jones asked.Dirk turned to look at Todd.Todd paled. “The stupid cake.” He replied quietly.“That’s a yes?” Doctor Jones asked.“Yes, but I was not aware I shouldn’t eat peanuts.” Dirk responded.“You were not aware you were allergic?” Doctor Jones asked in a curious voice. Dirk nodded. “That’s quite unusual. Peanut allergy is quite aggressive and usually presents itself well before your age.” She explained.“I’ve been… On a quite simple diet for most of my life.” Dirk said. “Alright then. Well, be sure to avoid peanuts from now on. I also suggest you purchase an epinephrine autoinjector to carry around in case of an unexpected allergic reaction.” Doctor Jones explained.“Of course. Thank you, Doctor.” Dirk replied.“Yes, thank you so much, Doctor.” Todd said as the Doctor smiled and walked out.”“Purchase a what?” Dirk asked Todd after the doctor had left. Todd just stared at the door the doctor had walked through.“Todd?” Dirk tried to get his attention.“My anniversary cake almost killed you.” Todd mumbled.“No it didn’t, I just got an allergic reaction.” Dirk shrug.“You can die from an allergic reaction, Dirk, especially from this allergy.” Todd exclaimed.Dirk blinked for a few times. “Really?”Todd groaned.“Todd, everything’s fine. You didn’t know. And neither did I for the matter!” Dirk explained.Todd sighed. “I know. I still feel bad though.” He said.“If it makes you feel any better, the cake really was delicious. Before the whole throat closing up debacle.” Dirk smiled.Todd couldn’t help but laugh. “Great. Thanks.”

-

Todd stopped at the door of their apartment and Dirk almost walked into him.“What is it?” Dirk asked.“I need to get rid of all the peanuts.” He said. “Wait here.”“Wha- They’re not going to attack me from a cupboard, Todd!” Dirk said, but Todd had already walked in and closed the door on Dirk.After about 4,5 minutes - not that Dirk was counting of course - Todd opened the door.“Okay, come on in.” He said.Dirk rolled his eyes affectionately and walked in to the apartment.“We should book you an appointment to one of those allergy test things.” Todd said and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and sat on the couch. “To see if you’re allergic to anything else.”“Do you have to do it now? The appointment isn’t going to be tonight anyway.” Dirk said and sat next to Todd on the couch.“Well, no, but the sooner we book it-““Todd.” Dirk cut him off.“What?” Todd asked.“I’m fine.” Dirk said.“I know.” Todd whispered.“I am.” Dirk repeated.“I know, I just… You scared me, man.” Todd finally said.“I’m sorry.” Dirk said and laid his head on Todd’s shoulder.“No, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” Todd said.Dirk sat up. “It absolutely was not your fault, Todd Brotzman.” He said. Todd just stared at Dirk, surprised by his reaction.“You did something nice for me. I didn’t even know I was allergic, how could have you? I’m fine and now we know. Problem solved. We’ll test for other allergies and get one of those elephant injectors in case of emergencies. Right now I just want to spend time with you and not worry, alright? It is the anniversary of our first meeting after all. Though technically what constitutes as our first meeting can be argued since the time traveling-““Dirk.” Todd interrupted.Dirk shut up and smiled.Todd continued. “You’re right. Sorry. I just freaked out. We’ve been held at gun point and in sword fights and whatnot, I guess it just freaked me out that you got so hurt because of my stupid cake.” Todd explained. “I promise I’ll stop fuzzing. But I also will get you that appointment and the epipen. And I won’t bake or cook until I know what you actually can and can’t eat.” He said.“Fine.” Dirk replied. “But for now, just kiss me, please?”Todd smiled and leaned in but stopped right before their lips touched. “Wait. Should I kiss you after eating that cake?”

~

if you have any fic ideas, send me prompts! I’d be happy to write them. my inbox is always open! xx

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Cyrus Lupo / Waste of Time (Part Two)

Part One

Requested by @laneygthememequeen: 

Can I request another Cyrus lupo case, maybe where they’re both detectives and are staking out but go check it out to van-buren’s orders and lupo gets a bullet to his side. He’s alright, just bleeding and stuff but survives and the reader goes down, maybe like she worked with the FBI formerly? 

Sooo this is finally finished. I’m so glad I finally got through this fic. It ended up taking way too long since writing action scenes are some of my favorite things to write (I am a fantasy/action writer guys), but I hope you all enjoy!!

Image Source

Monsters.

You had spent your entire career hunting them down, but they only seemed to multiply around you, the number never growing smaller. It seemed as soon as you got your hands around one, another two would be waiting around the corner. Even with all of the people you put away, it never seemed to make a difference. At times, it seemed like a waste of time. At least, this what you had argued to Cyrus one difficult night as you sat upon your shared bed, legs crossed, holding your head. “Is it worth to risk my life every day? The possibility of not making it home to you,” Your voice began to waver, but Cyrus wrapped his arm around you, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead. “when my work doesn’t even make an inch of a difference,”

“Hey, I worry about not making it home to you too,” Cyrus said, his words barely a whisper, as if he worried if some deity would heed as words and make his fears so, “And that’s real and scary, but your work not making a difference? You have to be kidding me, because you’ve put away more people and saved more than I will ever know, because I don’t have clearance,” He added, as you gave a shaky chuckle. “But what’s more important is that you got justice for the victims, and that’s far from nothing, These people wait months, years, decades for their loved one's’ killer to be brought to justice, and you do that. Don’t doubt yourself,” He murmured, pressing careful kisses against the nape of your neck, and you smiled in spite of yourself, basking his attention, but that didn’t erase your worries.

Until Cyrus was shot.

Watching him in the hospital bed, a billion tubes running in and out of his body, his mind and body fighting for his life, while you were forced to stand by and simply watch. You were trained your entire life to save others, and yet there wasn’t a damn single thing you could do for him. Until you found him, David Russo, the man who orchestrated this entire operation. Ironically, this is the very moment when you re-discovered the importance of your work. Bringing his would-be killer to jail would be your personal pleasure. Though your pleasure was delayed by certain tactics the FBI took part in, including observation.Since he didn’t flee the country as they thought he would,  they kept watch on him while they prepared a plan. Meanwhile, you stood by, watching the cameras they had on him, as he simply drank his coffee in complete solace in an apartment that had been clear across the city, in a hard to reach building, and on top of it, the apartment was listed under a different name. And the name was Cyrus Lupo.

Clenching your fists, you felt your own fingernails dig into your palm, you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. You were out for blood. The other agents looked away when they spotted your expression, including your unit chief. Everyone had heard your argument early this morning, as the two of you emerged from his office, him visibly irritated and you, a small smile tucked away in the corner of your expression, but it was clear you had gotten your way. As you returned home late that night, you gave a small derisive chuckle at the thought, you weren’t about to let him take you off the case.

You couldn’t care if he fired you after, nothing else mattered. You understood the consequences. And the ones at home were even worse. Lately, you had been spending all of your time at work, while Cyrus had been recovering. You had missed most of his doctor’s appointments, hadn’t taken care of him, nor had you even been home in the past few days. This had led to several arguments, including the one you had this morning.

“You’re hiding something,” Cyrus’s voice came from behind you, as you jumped, turning to face him. He stood in your doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised at your reaction to his presence.

“Cy, shouldn’t you be resting?” You deflected his question, hoping to change the subject. It had became increasingly to continue to lie to him over the last few weeks. Each time you did, you felt a little more broken, like someone had taken a hammer to your relationship, and put the pieces back together wrong. And you knew Cyrus felt it too.

“You almost hit the roof when I spoke to you, I don’t think I’m the one who needs to rest,” He walked over to your vanity where you sat, as you set down the makeup you held. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. You smiled at him through the mirror, enjoying his attention. You had barely seen each other the past few days. “Can’t you take a day off?”

Your smile was slapped off your face, as your eyes narrowed, caught between a scowl and frown. “Out of the question,” You dismissed, as you rose, brushing his arms off, as you met his gaze. “We have a huge operation tomorrow,”

“I’m going back to work, tomorrow,” You stopped in your tracks, heart dropping as you turned on your heel.

“You’re supposed to be off duty for another two weeks,” Your voice climbed several octaves, fear creeping into the very depths of your heart. “They can’t be letting you back on already. It’s too soon for you to go back,”

“They are, and I am,” Hands in his pocket, he stood adamantly, holding his ground. “You know I was going to have to go back eventually,”

And you did. You knew he would return to work, return to facing down armed gunmen, return to chasing criminals just as you did, and perhaps it wasn’t fair, but you didn’t want him to. So without another word, you grabbed your bag, and left, slamming the door behind you.

You sighed outside the very same front door, as memories of this morning ran rampant  rummaging for your keys as you tried to push away thoughts of his bags by the door or worse, an empty apartment. But your fears proved legitimate, as you entered your apartment to find no one there.

“Cyrus?” You glanced around the empty apartment, the dishes undone, the garbage as it was when you left, and the TV still on. There was a broken dish on the floor. You felt your heart skip several beats, blood roaring in your ears, as you pulled out your gun from its holster. You began to check the apartment. “Cy?” You called out, “I brought dinner for us,” You glanced around the corner, stepping out and pointing your gun down the corridor where your bedroom was. You creeped down the hall, taking a heart stopping moment to glance behind yourself. No one. “It’s your favorite,” You continued to talk, hoping to catch the intruder by surprise. After that, you didn’t look back, as you paused before your bedroom door. Your hand shook as you reached for the doorknob that you had opened countless times before, but this was the first time you felt…afraid. Your mind ran through every possibility of horrors that lie beyond that door. The mafia was not known for being kind to its enemies, and if they had found out that Cyrus was alive, and that you had found their leader…Images of Cyrus’s body covered in blood rose like the bile in your throat.

Your hand had just almost reached the handle when the door was thrown open itself. You cocked your gun, thrusting in it in the face of your fiancée, who stared at the gun with shock. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

Cyrus’s expression had twisted from that a smile to that of confusion and, was that, fear? “The plate, the TV-”

“I broke it earlier, but I can’t bend too well still, so I went to get the broom,” You lowered the gun, dropping from your grip, clattering on the hardwood floor, as you slowly sank to your knees. Cyrus caught you before you fell the entire way, his grip tight around your shoulders, as he pulled you to his chest. “Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m guessing there’s something you want to talk about,” He wiped your tears away gently with his thumb, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I just, you’re going back tomorrow,” You hung your head in shame, eye catching a glimpse of the discarded gun, and squeezed your eyes shut as more tears formed.

“Y/N, I’ll be fine,” He said, tilting your face up. His face was stern and sure, without a hint of doubt. “Lieu is keeping me on desk duty for another week anyway, the only things I’ll be running out is to fetch a cup of coffee for Kevin,” You chuckled, as he smiled at you. “But that’s not the only thing you’ve been keeping from me.”

“Cy-“

“We’re about to get married,” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it silenced your protests, his hurt tone was more powerful than a shout. “But ever since I got shot, you act like that’s the last thing you want to do,” He turned from you, his arms crossed, as he looked down. “I’ve been through too many heartbreaks, Y/N, and I really don’t want you to be one of them,”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your head to his back. “Cyrus, of course I want to marry you,” He faced you, still holding you close, as he forced you to look in his eyes. Hope flickered in his eyes, as they practically begged you, pleaded for you to tell him the truth. “But I have some things I can’t tell you,”

“Is this about the shooting?” He leaned back into your touch, as you turned away from his back, glancing at the clock. 8:00 PM. “It takes time, Y/N, not just for me, but for you, to recover from something like this,”

“Time is something I don’t have right now,” You picked up the gun from the floor, and grabbed your coat. “I came home just to tell you I had work tonight, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up for me,”

Just as you reached the door, you heard him say: “You know I always will,”

~~~

“Don’t go in until I give the signal,” Your chief warned in your ear, as you sipped at a drink at the very same restaurant he went to. Your ebony dress barely brushed against the floor, a long slit went up past your knee, revealing your bare leg. Your hair was down, long tendrils flowing far past your shoulders. Though you kept your gaze carefully concentrated on the band playing on stage, some music you didn’t care for, but out of the corner of your eye you could see him. And he definitely saw you. He knew exactly who you were, as his eyes glided up your form like an unwanted hand around your waist. You paid him no mind, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, as you sipped at your drink.

“He knows,” You said, barely audible as the glasses touched your lips.

“Perfect, now just wait for him to approach you,” Patience was key in a game of cat and mouse, and it was only a matter of time until the cat took the bait, and predator would become prey. You stayed in your spot, swaying only slightly to the music, the crowd became thicker towards the middle, while the edges remained dispersed. You stayed near the bar, refilling your drink every once in awhile, and just as you turned to grab it, an arm wrapped its way around your waist.

“Detective,” His hand had maneuvered into your purse, pulling out both a badge and your gun, he flipped open your credentials. “Or rather, Agent, what are the odds of running into a beautiful woman like yourself here?”

“Better than you would think,” No alarm present on your face, as you took your drink in hand, and took another swig. “How’s that apartment treating you? It seems ill fitting of your standards.”

His eyes seemed to flicker from you to his surroundings for a moment, before he smiled assuredly. “Being emptied out as we speak,”

“Of course, a jail cell suits you better,” You put your drink down with a slam, paying your tab.

“Shall we take this party to the roof?” He pulled you along and you allowed him to, glancing around at your gun that he had slipped into his sleeve, the barrel pressing into your back.

“Y/N, this isn’t part of the plan,” Your chief’s voice hissed in your ear, but you paid him no mind, only showing Russo your pearly whites as he guided you to the staircase. You walked up the stairs in silence, your blood roaring in your ears, the only thing you could see was Russo’s body dead body sprawled on the floor. It was only a matter of time. “Open the door,” Digging the gun into your back for emphasis, and you did as he said, stepping onto the roof, and door swinging shut behind you both.

“We don’t have eyes up there, what’s happening?” Your chief said in your ear, and Russo smiled, pulling out your earpiece.

“Almost forgot about this,” He crushed the piece in his hand, tossing it off the roof. He let the gun out of his sleeve, examining it. “Did you think you would kill me today?” He waited expectantly, running his fingers over the gun. “Well?”

“I was going to arrest you,”

“Don’t worry dear, your FBI buddies can’t hear you up here. My friends sweeped the roof,” He wagged his finger at you. “No, what I saw downstairs were the eyes of a killer. Someone intent on revenge, isn’t that right?” You stayed silent, unwavering in your stare, but that only made him laugh. “I’m right, aren’t I? Because of what happened to your fiancee. Lupo was it? His name was useful, for both me and you,” It was, that’s how you had found him. It was what had led to this. “Cyrus Lupo, he’s a lucky son-of-a-bitch. I’ve seen men bleed out in minutes and die from wounds like that,” You stepped forward and he held the gun up. “Uh, uh, uh,” He cocked the gun, his finger tapping the trigger. “Of course, having you die would probably be a fate worse than death for a bleeding heart like him.”

“You’ll be the only one bleeding after this,”

“We’ll see about that,” He pulled the trigger, a bang echoing off the roof, loud as lightning, but there you stood. He looked from the gun to you, flabbergasted.

“You know if an agent lets you get her gun so easily,” You pulled a gun from a holster on the inside of your thigh, “There’s a reason,” You cocked the gun, taking careful steps toward him.

But to your surprise, he only smiled. “Go ahead, shoot me, there’s gunshot residue on my hands, a gun lying on the ground beside me. No one will be the wiser. But you will, and you’ll be no better than me,” He shut his eyes, his lips twisted in the same grin. “A monster,”

You stared at the man before you. Countless deaths on his watch, on his orders, he reeked of bloodshed and bodies, and the world would undoubtedly be better off without him, but did that make it okay? Was this justice that you had cried to Cyrus about? Was it worth becoming a monster?

Your gun clattered to the ground, slipping from your slack grasp, as you instead pulled handcuffs out. His eyes flew open, going from the gun to the cuffs, and he laughed as you approached. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” You got to him, reaching out to cuff his hands, when he knocked them from your hands, lunging for your strewn gun. You did the same, both your hands struggling for the gun, “But I will,” He hissed, taking the gun from your hands, and then there was a bang.

You felt something drip down your face, and your eyes opened to see his glassy eyes staring back at you, and you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Cyrus,” You could feel Russo’s blood run down your face, the warm liquid dripping onto the roof.

“It’s over,” Cyrus said, holding a hand out to you. You looked back at Russo’s body, before you took Cyrus’s hand and you didn’t turn around again.

The two of you sat in silence in the ambulance, as the medic made sure you didn’t have any injuries, and when he stepped away to check your results, you turned to Cyrus. “Cy,”

“So you were seeing Russo behind my back?” He gestured to the dress you wore that was now ripped and stained in several places, which you realized was Russo’s blood that had dripped onto the silky fabric.

“Cyrus,” His hand grasped your own tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice wavered ever so slightly as he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I could have been here,”

“I wanted to protect you,” You couldn’t quite meet his eyes, instead keeping your gaze fixed, a faraway look in your eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, not again. Not to that...monster,”

“You never lost me,” He said, as the two of you watched them load up Russo’s body bag into the truck. “You never will,” His arms wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping your form, and for the first time you felt truly safe from any monsters.

[aceofstars16]

Desperate

So, I stayed up late last night writing this. It’s an OC fic, and I’m not sure if I love it, but I’m happy with parts of it and it was fun kind of fun to try and figure out Analyn’s personality more. It also covers who her dad is, so if you haven’t guessed or want to read about it, you can! (even though it’s not the part when she finds out...it’s actually a few months after that...)

And if you want to know more about Ana and Reg you can check it out here.

Fic below the cut:

Ana was at the end of her rope. She couldn’t handle this anymore. Things had gone from amazing to terrible. The worst part was, she knew it was her fault. Her own stupid pride had made her give up the blessing she had received. A paid internship that covered all of her rent and living expensive. And she had given it up because she didn’t want help. She didn’t want anyone to say she only got it because she was related to the boss. Even though no one knew, not even Reg. The only one that knew was her dad – biologically speaking, not the man who had raised her since she was seven, though she supposed in the recent months he had become more like a mentor, almost a father. Until he had told her and she up and left, vowing never to come back again.

But here she was. Standing in front of Stark Industries. About to plead for help. It screamed against everything she stood for, and yet she had to. Reg needed her. She couldn’t afford his treatments, heck she was already in debt for the few hospital bills he had. Not only that, but she knew Reg needed the best doctors. The ones that cost far more than she would ever be able to afford. So, she was here. Because it was the only way she could save her brother.

Walking in, she was quickly intercepted by the receptionist. Of course. She hadn’t been here in a while, it wasn’t like she could just walk into the labs like she did before. Maybe if she still had her ID card, but she had thrown that away after the last time she’d been here.

“Hello, what can I help you with today?”

“I need to speak with Mr. Stark,” Ana said, not bothering to dance around any formalities.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I don’t need one.”

“I’m sorry, but everyone needs an appointment.” The receptionist said, her tone a little tight. She probably thought she was dealing with some crazy fangirl or something.

Maybe I should’ve dressed up a little. Ana thought, looking down at her loose sweatshirt and skinny jeans. She hadn’t even bothered to put on any nice shoes, but then again fashion had been the last thing on her mind.

“Just tell him Analyn wants to talk with him. Please.”

“I’m sorry but Mr. Stark isn’t in at the moment.”

Typical. Ana knew what that meant. Tony didn’t really like being disturbed, especially if he was working. Granted, he might not actually be working here right now, but she knew someone would be, hopefully someone that knew her. And if not? Well, if she had to find the Avenger’s complex and drive there she would.

“Look, can you just let whoever is in charge know I’m here. It’s kind of important,” she tried her best not to grit her teeth as she spoke, even though this conversation was grinding her patience. If only she had kept that stupid badge…

“Fine.”

Ana could tell the receptionist didn’t like it, but she probably assumed calling someone would get Ana out of here faster than anything else. So she made her way to the desk and picked up the phone.

“Yes, hi Frank, I have this girl down here and she insists she needs to talk to Mr. Stark.”

Frank, Ana knew Frank. Not well, but she had helped him fix up a few circuits. “My name, Analyn, tell him my name.”

The receptionist side eyed her. “She says her name is Analyn.”

The annoyed look on the receptionist’s face disappeared.

Hanging up the phone, the receptionist looked at Ana for a moment, then spoke. “You can sit over there, one of our staff will be here shortly.”

Sitting was not something Ana wanted to do, so instead she just took a few steps back and stood, waiting. She couldn’t keep her foot from tapping. The receptionist looked at her in annoyance, most likely thinking her impatient. But in reality, Ana was just nervous. She hadn’t seen Tony in months, and the last time she had seen him, it hadn’t ended well at all. For the first time since she had come here, she started worrying that maybe she wouldn’t find help here at all.

Then the elevator doors opened and Frank walked out.

“Ana! I haven’t seen you in months!” he said, grinning.

Ana tried to return the grin, but she knew it wasn’t as convincing as it could’ve been. “It’s good to see you.” She said, trying to be civil even though all she wanted to do was either run out the door or rush past him to the labs.

“Yikes, must be something really serious,” Frank said, clearly seeing how wound up Ana was.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Tony, asap.”

“Well, he’s not in, but I can send him a message. If it’s really serious he can be here in a few minutes.”

The next few minutes dragged on. Frank took Ana to the labs to wait while he sent the message. She didn’t know how long it would take Tony - after all, he might not even remember who Frank was. But hopefully, he would see her name and come. If not…she had no clue what she was going to do.

Absentmindedly, Ana picked up a wrench and started spinning it, her hands itching to do something, but she didn’t have anything to work on in here. And she doubted anyone would appreciate her messing with their work, even if she might make it better.

“He’s on his way. I have to get back to work, or else I’d stay.” Frank had poked his head into the large room, giving her a smile that was probably meant to be comforting, but Ana only found it awkward.

“It’s fine, I can wait here.”

He nodded then closed the door and Ana was alone again.

So he was coming. That was a relief…but it was also terrifying. Sure, Tony normally wouldn’t drop his plans and go somewhere just to yell at someone, but Ana still couldn’t stop worrying.

A vibrating in her pocket shook Ana from her thoughts. She placed the wrench on the table and dug in her pocket for her phone.

“Hello?”

“Ana, where are you?”

Reg’s voice sounded from the other end and Ana froze. She had left early in hopes of getting back before he had woken up – after the news he had been sleeping a lot lately – but apparently her luck hadn’t held.

“I’m just out running some errands, I’ll be back in…soon.”

“In soon…I don’t think that’s a legitimate time table.”

Ana couldn’t help but laugh a little. Even though Reg’s life had been flipped upside-down, he still had his personality, and for that she was grateful.

“I don’t know how long, okay? I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

“Okay…could you pick me up some ice cream?” There was a slyness to his voice and Ana rolled her eyes.

“You did not have ice cream for breakfast again.”

Silence. “Well-”

“Reg! Seriously, that’s not even remotely healthy!”

“I had some cereal with it…”

“Fine, but for lunch you are having a salad. Or something better.”

“If I do, can I have more ice cream?”

Ana rubbed her head with her hand. “Alright, fine. But I get half the carton.”

“Half?!?...fine…”

“See you later, okay?”

“Yeah...sure.”

Hanging up the phone, Ana let it fall to her lap and she shook her head. Reg was so silly sometimes, but despite his quirks, she still loved him.

“Kids, right?”

Ana spun around. She had been so distracted by the phone call that she hadn’t even heard Tony come in.

“Um, hi…Tony.”

“Hi. So, what’s so important that you had me fly all the way over here?” Tony walked over to her as he talked, sitting on the edge of the desk next to hers. He looked casual enough, but there was tension in the air. Or at least there was for Ana.

“I…I know I didn’t leave here in the best manner,” she started, but she couldn’t say anymore. She should say sorry, admit she was wrong. But that was harder than she’d like to admit.

“So, you just wanted to talk? After, six months.” He saw through her. Of course he did. He knew her. And in some ways, she was like him. Not as much as she might’ve been, if she had grown up with him. But she had seen enough to know they both had a stubborn streak.

Letting out a breath, Ana set down her phone, which she had been fiddling with. “It…it’s Reg. He-” her voice broke for a second and she swallowed, before trying again. This is what she had come for, she had to do this. “He has cancer. It…it’s, treatable, but it doesn’t have a very good success rate. And I…I can’t afford it. Even the cheapest treatment option. I’m already in debt, and working two jobs. I can barely keep up with school. I’m going to have to drop it when the chemo starts. And I-”

Tony had held up a finger. He looked up from the ground. “So, you only came here, because you needed money.”

“No! I…” Ana deflated and looked at the ground. “Yeah…I don’t have any other options. Reg will die if he doesn’t get help. And even if I can somehow pay for the treatment, I’ll be in debt the rest of my life. And that’s if I can keep up working like I am, and don’t wear myself down until I get sick too. I just…” Ana buried her head in her hands. She knew this was a mistake. Tony wouldn’t help her, not after what she had done. And now she sounded like a pity case when in reality she was finally admitting to needing help, admitting that her life was truly falling apart and she couldn’t fix it herself.

Silence. That was all that followed. Ana didn’t dare look up at Tony, she didn’t want to see his reaction. That she only came to him when she needed it.

The quiet stretched on until Ana couldn’t take it. This was useless, she shouldn’t have come. Grabbing her phone, she stood up. “This was a mistake. Sorry to waste your time.” She couldn’t hold back the slight resentment in her tone. In all honesty, she didn’t know if it was resentment towards Tony, or her life, or herself, maybe it was all three. Either way, it resulted in slightly blurry vision as Ana took a step past Tony.

“I’ll help.”

Ana stopped in her track and turned back to look at Tony. She couldn’t read the expression on his face – partly due to the tears that had been building up in her eyes. “Wait…why?” As soon as she said it, Ana regretted it. Why would she ask that! He could take it back with one word, she should be grateful, not wary.

“Reg is a good kid. He deserves more.”

“He does…”

“I have some conditions though.”

Here we go…Ana thought, the requirements. But if it meant saving Reg…Brushing away the tears in her eyes, she leaned against a desk. “Okay…”

“First off, don’t drop school.” Tony held up his hand as Ana opened her mouth to argue that she wouldn’t have the time. “Second. Quit your jobs and come back here to work. You can have your old internship back. It’ll be your way of repaying me. All the perks as before, and you can leave anytime Reg needs something. Heck he can even come to the labs again to, if he feels up to it. And lastly, don’t ever be afraid to come to me if you need help. This would’ve applied to you before I found out who you were, because you are a bright kid, and you can do great things. I like to support that.” Silence for a moment then. “Sound good?”

Ana didn’t know what to say. Of course it sounded good, it sounded perfect. But the pride in her chest was hesitant. She hated asking for charity, for help when she should be able to do it on her own. Then the phone in her hand buzzed – a text from Reg.

Cookie dough ice cream?

Looking up as Tony, she nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll get you set up to start work next week. Should give you enough time to get everything else in order. If not, let me know.”

Ana nodded again, turning to walk away, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground. She couldn’t leave yet…

“One more thing,” she said, turning around to face him. “I’m sorry. For…running out like that. I was so caught up in my own pride I didn’t even think about how it would affect me and that…that it would affect you too. I was a jerk.”

“It was quite rude of you. But, it’s on me too. I should’ve told you sooner, and asked your permission for the blood test. I guess we both have a little stubbornness issue.”

A small chuckle escaped Ana’s mouth. “Yeah, I guess we do. Runs in the genes or something.”

“Oh, that’s for sure. Walk you out?” Tony asked, waving a hand towards the door.

“Sure,” Ana said, as they headed out of the lab. “And, thanks, for everything…dad.”

Tony looked at her for a moment, and she could see the mild surprise in his eyes. She was even surprised herself, but then again, before everything had happened, she had kind of seen him as a father figure, and now that he actually was well…he should know it. Know that she was grateful, know that she looked up to him, and that she wasn’t ashamed to be related to him.

“No problem kid,” Tony said, a smile growing on his mouth which Ana matched.

The next few months would be hard. But for the first time in a long time, she felt as if things just might work out okay.

[julystorms]

Do you think there are any limits to Death of the author? Like, it's argued if the author later talks about his work, it's also analysis and criticism, not necessarily canon, but don't their intentions matter a little bit? Although I can understand it if the author writes things that don't make sense and you have another interpretation. But how much should you care about the authors intentions?

Honestly, anon, that’s entirely up to you. Some people live for author’s intention and other people don’t. Sometimes I dig it, sometimes I don’t. It can be fun when you’re doing professional analyses but at the same time, there’s the concept that a work needs to stand on its own. When it doesn’t, and the author has to explain what they wanted things to mean, that tells the reader that the author has failed.

Isayama hasn’t really said anything completely off the wall. His series still stands, though...um...shakily probably at this point. He probably wanted to do things with the characters that the series just doesn’t have room for.

And if you want to take things said in interviews and so on, and use those: you should feel free to do it and you should enjoy yourself.

I’m a bit annoyed by excess material that exists outside of the canon because I find it tedious and boring to have to find every interview and every extra thing to get all of the information I want. I like some of the smartpass stories but I also really hate them all on the general principle of hating DLC: I shouldn’t have to go out of my way to get information about characters. It should be in the canon!

Scattered information is one reason why I just couldn’t get far into writing fanfic for Fire Embem 13 and 14. I’m not reading scripts for all of the DLC dialogues! I find it depressing when I write a ‘fic and get three comments saying, “Actually this contradicts [insert obscure thing author said in one place or line of dialogue from DLC].” UGH. Color me exhausted. 

I enjoy extra material but it gets tiresome after a while. I’ve been at this game too long and I want all of my information in the canon. In this way, it’s easier to just ignore most extra stuff just because I can’t keep up with it, let alone remember everything.

Anyway, the author’s intentions can matter if you want them to, but regarding Death of the Author, they don’t matter even a trifle. The point of Death of the Author is analyzing the work on its own merit/in a void, almost. Even if the author’s like “this was totally about a piece of cheese haha” I can still write something about how it’s talking about the effects of war on field hospital staff--provided, of course, I have enough canonical material that helps to legitimately prove that point. If other people read it and go, damn, yeah...it does sound like it’s about that, doesn’t it? That’s what I got out of it! then it doesn’t really matter what the author intended it to be about: people reading it are interpreting it according to their own understanding of the world/etc etc. 

It’s really just a particular way of analyzing a work of fiction. It used to be that most people did so with consideration to the author, but that got a little creepy tbh (how would you like someone poking around in your personal business and refusing to separate your writing from you, writing essays about how the way your mom treated you informed the way you wrote a villain female character or whatever--it sucks), so this way of analyzing works popped up and I personally prefer it. That said, sometimes it’s fun to analyze along with authorial intentions/according to the life of the author, just because history is so fascinating a topic and it’s cool to think about how historical events/ways of living/etc might have informed an author’s opinion/desire to write about certain subjects.

[vampykitty-kun]

Update:

Well, it’d been about a year or so and I guess it’s time to say that I’m not dead. I’ve only just now, as of an hour ago, gotten internet hooked up in my ‘home’.

This past year was a train-wreck.

the move I planned for almost 2 years, and spent all my savings on, was a bust. I had to move back after only 3 months, because once I got out there the property owner changed their mind on a whole bunch of crap. I spent the entire summer in 80-100 degree weather and no AC. Given that I was up in Wisconsin and lived my entire life in northern IL me and heat do not get along. They wouldn’t let me have the electric company come out and install electrical lines, because the company needed the property owner to sign off on it and he was a paranoid ass that kept insisting he was going to get stuck with the bill despite me having the cash in hand and the order being under my name. I spent the 3 months with one extension cord, no gas, no plumbing.

The guy that moved me out there also moved me home. He was a neighbor that was friends with my mother but only 3 years older than me. He was in a rough spot. Lost his job, his girlfriend left him, and the roommates he acquired after she left stole the rent $ and ditched him. By the time the 6 hour drive home was done he managed to convince me to move into his house. My father had stolen my bedroom after I moved out, threw out all my furniture, and was not going to give my room back. Neither parent wanted me to move back in with all of my pets either. I would have been stuck taking my grandma’s old room, which never would have fit all my stuff, and I had no furniture to speak of while this guy already had a bed, dresser, and TV in a room for me.

I took the chance and moved in. Honestly I just wish I never tried to leave home. I moved in mid September and spent the next several months without internet, paying all his back rent, paying most of the ongoing rent, buying all the food and cleaning supplies, etc, etc, etc, to the point that I’ve never been so tapped out financially in my life. He did start working on Halloween, but then was bad with his money, and it took several occasions before i had to start demanding to see rental receipts because not only would he often not give the landlord as much as he said HE was giving him, he often kept money I gave him for the rent and spent it elsewhere. Then because He was having to ride a bike home 40 mins from work as the buses didn’t run that late, he bought a beater car from a co-worker when we still weren’t caught up on rent. In the end I had to even contribute to that cost. Then we were FINALLY almost all caught up and he was laid off the first week of March. 

It got to the point that I flat out refused to pay for anything anymore, sold some things, and started saving money for my own place. But as many people know, renting with multiple pets is a nightmare. We were about to be evicted, he at the drop of a dime acquired a girlfriend who moved in the day they started seeing each other, and I ended up having to drop another $600 to avoid ending up out on my ass. He and she were of course supposed to contribute to that, but they didn’t. She did get a job and start paying rent after that, but he only managed to finally start work last week. I of course no longer have money saved up to move out so I’m trapped here until at LEAST July. I had to pay to get the internet hooked up and $100 towards rent again just 2 days ago.

Past housing related issues there have been plenty. 

Right before I moved out May 2016 my grandmother had a stroke. She ended up in rehab, recovered some after a few months, then came home. But then she had another stroke and ended up with mercer, and ended up back in the hospital just a week after coming home. She did not recover that time. She ended up in hospice. I did manage to go see her a few times before she passed away November 4th, just 2 days after my mother’s birthday and we had gone to see her.

Atticus, my sweet, adorable smooshy faced kitty jumped out the window a week before Halloween. I had repeated yelled at my roommate to put the screens back in the window, but he was ‘anti-screen’ saying it blocked air flow. I then repeated told him to warn me if the windows were open so I could lock Atticus in my bedroom. He of course never remembered. I was outside when he jumped out the window, I heard his collar bell, and did go after him. Unfortunately it was already dark out and I had no idea where the flashlight was, so when he dove into the garage I let him stay there. The garage has no power and has been used as storage so it would have been a nightmare trying to get in there in pitch black. he had gotten out a couple times before, during the day though, and after an hour or so he’d always come running if called. Those of you that followed me closely know I’m very anti-indoor/outdoor cat due to the zillion safety risks. I wasn’t thrilled by any of this. Well I tried an hour later to get him in and he did not come. I sat down, watched a movie, and just as it ended it started storming. I went out looking for him, got soaked completely through my coat, got the flashlight from the roommate who was home by this point, and NOTHING. He was no longer in the garage, not in the yard, not under any of the cars, not at my mother’s around the corner, he simply vanished. I went a few hours later and checked again after it stopped raining, and nothing. Checked in the morning, nothing. Walked the neighborhood listening for his bell when I called, nothing. I put up fliers. I called every animal control, shelter, rescue, and vet in the area. Nothing. Brought the fliers to them even. Checked animal control and the local rescue in person several times, nothing. I had this cat for 10.5 years and he just vanished without a trace. I got to hoping that someone at least found him and was cruel enough to me and attached to him to keep him. He was half persian which is a desirable look. But at least in that situation he’d be alright. My roommate watch me go nuts for weeks never giving up. It all ended when I found out from this girl he liked and I never talked to (I guess he thought I never would, but I went to McD’s and we started up a convo though when we ran into each other) that my cat was dead. As it turns out my roommate’s friend a block away found him the day after the storm dead at the curb in the grass near his house. My poor cat ended up hit by a car in a thunderstorm and died alone and in pain, all because of stupid ass screens. Instead of giving me the closure, my roommate hid this shit from me. He apparently told the girl this saying he had to get it off his chest but didn’t want to upset me. Then when I confronted him, he denied it. But he’d lied to me about so many things since moving in I never believed him. I continued to bring it up regularly, until he finally got fed up and admitted it to me. He claimed he went to confirm that it was him, then came home for a bit before he went back to pick him up, only to find that the city had already removed him. I doubt it. So not only did I not get the closure, but I didn’t get to bury him or anything. He never intended to tell me. he watched me continue searching. Watched me gt into the neighbor’s car and go to animal control various times. So yeah... coming on here to see that my profile pic was still my poor cat landed me in some serious angst...

Then after Grandma passed and the new year started, my mother had a stroke. Just after grandma had had her two. Turns out she had lupis, and it did something to her heart and tissue tore, and some of that tissue pinged around in her brain. She didn’t lose any feeling, but her speech and some other things were affected for a couple weeks. Because it was the heart and lupis that ultimately caused it, they ended up having to put her on the proper meds, and she had to have open heart surgery to correct the tears. She has since recovered mostly.

Meanwhile I’ve been having a nervous breakdown and existential crisis the past years and it finally blew up to the point where I couldn’t function at all, barely left bed, slept an average of 14 hours and still woke up physically and mentally exhausted. I had lost a good 15lbs out in Wisconsin for 3 months but at this time I have since gained 30lbs. Enough was enough, I started having some seriously shitty thoughts, and I went and got a medical card and adulted, scheduling a shit ton of appointments. I’ve started getting my bad teeth fixed, the ones I suffered through for the past 6 years. My blood pressure is magically stable despite the massive amounts of stress. No diabetes, a miracle. All my bloodwork came back normal. They have me scheduled to check for a couple different cancers, as there’s several in my immediate family. They have me seeing a therapy lady 1-2 a month for anxiety and depression. My anxiety got so bad in all of this that I started breaking out into hives and rashes at random. They have me on anxiety meds now and while they’re still trying to figure out dosages it did completely get rid of the rashes. They want to see how I do on these before they decide how to address the depression. They said if I think I need it they can assign me to someone to see weekly, but really I’m taking baby steps. 

Past all angst and chaos I’ve really not done that much fandom related, and I feel I have to apologize even though I guess I sorta have a legitimate excuse? I did draw some things during my time out in Wisconsin. They’re inked and I had started coloring them but never did finish. I didn’t touch any of my fics, though I certainly don’t want to abandon them, it’s just been a bad time. I did however start on two actual novel-novels, one of which is probably 2/3 of the way through. It was honestly easier in all of this to write something outside of fandom.

As for what I’m currently into, I’m still a big BatFam fan, but I did get into the Marvel Cinematic universe, and several Marvel comic titles outside of that. For the most part not their big main people, I like a lot of the smaller characters and a lot of the alternative versions of main people. I also dove into Teen Wolf the past couple months and a I forgot how much anything werewolf related thrilled me, so it’s been a good time there.

Idk where I’m going from here. I waited to come back to tumblr until I had my own internet connection. I guess I’ll just have to see how things go. I did miss this site’s content quite a bit, and shit, I really missed a lot of the people on here even though I’m sure some of you are gone, and no one has the same profile pics anymore, and a lot of you have even changed your names, so things are confusing, but I’ll figure it out.

I’m glad to be back and I seriously hope I can finish pulled myself out of this hole.

~Vampy