#cause like sorry but her English sometimes really is atrocious

[nicoscheer]

Okay but seriously what has happened that like a few months ago Miles started liking her posts

And not Louise liking THAT post and also the reply comments like we northerners get the joke

- also never ever is this pic from today cause Liverpool had a max of 7 degrees Celsius today and like that paired with the wind while boating is certainly wayy too cold for a open leather jacket and a thin tshirt

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE 

Summary:  Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi 

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART --> 

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?” 

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time. 

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement. 

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all. 

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.” 

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh. 

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back. 

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences? 

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol. 

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones. 

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles. 

“It’s just--so old and tacky.” 

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?” 

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter. 

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart. 

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form. 

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him. 

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (2)

May 1st, 2270

“Hello, Izuku.” “Hi, dad.” Izuku hadn’t exactly been dreading this conversation, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it either. He’d hoped his mom would do all the talking, having to break the news to his friends had been hard enough. For him. Most of them seemed to have gotten quite the kick out of it. “How are you? Your mother told me you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks.” “Mh.” “Still upset over that visit?” “Mh.” “Speak, son. Sulking doesn’t translate well over the phone.” His father chided gently.

Izuku sighed. “The doctor said I’m never going to get a quirk. I’m sorry.” “Whatever for? It’s not like you have any choice in the matter. Quirks are innate, surely you know that.” “Yes, I do.” Izuku said, staring at the paused frame of All Might’s debut video on the computer screen. The reflection of his own miserable face was superimposed with the triumphant silhouette of the hero. “But I’m sorry anyway. You have such a cool quirk… and mom’s useful too. I could become a great hero with one of them, but I’m never going to get any.” “Again, that’s none of your fault. And I wouldn’t be so sure of that anyway.” “Uh?” Izuku gulped, gripping the phone tightly. “Y-you don’t think I’d make a good hero?” “No, that’s not what I mean.” His father chuckled. “I mean that I wouldn’t lose hope just yet. You’re very young, there’s still plenty of time for your quirk to manifest.” “But the doctor said that all quirks appear before one is four years old. And I’m four. And I have the extra toe joint-” “Tsk! Some doctor they assigned you. As if one could unerringly guess the nature and development of something as unpredictable as a quirk with a single test. An x-ray, of all things. Ancient technology.” “The doctor said there was a study...” “I have an extra toe joint too, you know.” Izuku’s father laughed hearing his son’s surprised gasp. “Studies like the one your doctor mentioned draw conclusions based on the analysis of hundreds, thousands of cases. Those conclusions may hold true for the majority of them, but there are always outliers. Having that oh-so-precious joint and a quirk is indeed rare, but not unheard of.” “B-But…” Izuku’s eyes burned with the feeling of impending tears. He hadn’t expected his father’s reaction to be like this. No one had even remotely doubted the validity of the doctor’s opinion. No one. It almost hurt to hope. “I’m also too old…” “My own quirk didn’t show until I was… fifteen? Maybe sixteen. Way older than you are, anyway. Another important point to consider, don’t you think?” Izuku sniffled. Then cried, quietly. His father remained silent as the boy let the tears flow freely, wiping them on his arm now and then. There was a tangled ball of emotions deep in his chest, that he couldn’t quite unravel. After a couple of minutes though, the sobs abated and he felt better. Better than he had been feeling before his mom handed him the phone. “...Do you really think the doctor was wrong?” “You shouldn’t believe everything doctors tell you. My personal physician keeps calling me ‘the peak of biological and anthropological evolution’, but that’s because he’s been fishing for a raise for years. Clearly you’d expect a Darwinian champion to be able to walk under the sun without protection for more than five minutes without turning into a peeling tomato.” “Uh? Does that really happen to you?” “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that I’m albino? My skin is very sensitive to sunlight, and it burns easily. I have atrocious eyesight too.” “I didn’t know that.” Izuku winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.” “Not nearly as much as you think. I have plenty of skills and tools at my disposal to compensate. It isn’t an inconvenience at all these days, although it did cause me some grief when I was a child.” His father’s tone got softer. “Sometimes it does feel like our bodies are our own worst enemies, doesn’t it?” Izuku hummed in assent, very much agreeing with the sentiment. “I’m happy it doesn’t hurt you any more.” “And I’m glad you didn’t inherit this nuisance from me.” A sudden thought made its unwelcome way in Izuku’s head. “If… If I didn’t inherit your skin and eyes… maybe I won’t inherit your quirk either…” “Izuku.” His father’s tone was kind but firm. There were times when his presence, even just through his voice, felt way more real and solid than that of many people Izuku habitually shared a room with. “Your ability will emerge one day, I’m positive of that. Just give it time and don’t agonize over it.” Izuku nodded, even though he realized that wouldn’t translate well over the phone either. “...Okay.” “Now, what else have you been up to in this past month, other than brooding over a criminally incompetent diagnosis?” Not much, honestly, but Izuku told him anyway. As he kept chatting, his heart grew lighter than it had been in weeks. Mom did always say that his father was a good listener.

July 1st, 2272 “They were talking about it on TV yesterday. It’s an old incident from some years ago, before All Might met Nighteye!” “I see...” “Not many people know about it, because there’s no villain involved, and villains make all the stories more interesting! But it’s a great story nonetheless!” Izuku rattled on enthusiastically, taking advantage of his father’s unresponsive compliance. “Uh-huh...” “So this boy was having some big troubles, I think, and he jumped into a river because he didn’t know what to do about them. But luckily All Might was around! Do you know what he did?” “He offered to cover all the expenses for the years of therapy the boy would need afterwards?” “Uh… They didn’t say that on TV. I don’t know. I think he just rescued him from the river.” “That doesn’t seem to address the underlying problem.” His father commented icily. “Daaad, you’re ruining the story.” Izuku chided him. “Anyway, the funny part is that this boy had a quirk that could turn water into vinegar, and he activated it in a panic while he was drowning.” “Mh. A peculiar quirk...” “So All Might got all drenched in vinegar when he dove in to save him. He made this very silly face in front of the cameras, it was great! And when the boy apologized for causing trouble, guess what All Might told him?” “I’m sorry I’m the living embodiment of this unfair, hypocritical society that has driven you to the brink of despair?” “No. He said,” Izuku continued, breezing past his father’s petty remarks with practiced ease, “It is I who should thank you. My skin’s looking ten years younger now.” “Oh my God…” The man groaned, and a loud thunk-crash noise accompanied his words. “Oh, come on!” Izuku giggled, covering his mouth with his free hand. “It’s so funny!” “Just because they’re called ‘dad jokes’ doesn’t mean I’m legally obligated to laugh at them.” “But it is funny! All Might’s the funniest! Did you know that he just wrote a joke book? It’s called All Might’s Gags and Jokes: A Compendium. It already has amazing reviews! They say it’s warm and relatable and cy.. cyclical…” “He wrote a joke book. A veritable Renaissance man, this one...” His father muttered. Izuku heard something clink in the background. Probably the pieces of whatever his father dropped. “Mom says she’ll buy it for my birthday!” Izuku added, swinging his whole body on his chair in sheer excitement. “That is such a poor use of your remittance. I’ll need to have a couple of words with her…” “It’s for my education!” Izuku enunciated with solemnity, straightening his posture. “There’s a whole chapter of American puns and word plays! It will help me learn English!” “If you want to learn English on your own so soon, please choose a decent source. Start with basic grammar and alphabet books, watch some subtitled shows and movies to get the hang of the correct pronunciation-” “I’m learning a lot from All Might already! The catchphrase he used when he was in college in California was I am here! When he’s surprised, he says Oh my goodness! When he doesn’t believe something, he says Nonsense!” Izuku parroted, taking great care of imitating All Might’s confident, surprised and disbelieving expressions respectively. They would be lost on his father, but he needed to practice them anyway. “If that’s a good American accent, I’m the next Symbol of Peace.” “Dad.” Izuku said, suddenly very serious. He had a very important question to ask, and it had been a long time coming. “Why do you always make fun of him? It’s like… It’s almost like you don’t like him at all.” The words sounded so wrong he almost wasn’t brave enough to say them. Izuku would have been mortified if anyone had moved such an accusation on him. “I suppose he has a sort of… charisma about him.” His father admitted ruefully. “I can’t say it strikes any chords with me though.” “Are you just jealous of him?” Izuku asked shrewdly. “Kacchan also talks a lot of trash about All Might, but it’s obvious he’s just jealous. It’s all right if you are, though, I mean, he’s so-” “I’m this close to hanging up, Izuku.” “But- but how can you not like All Might?! Everyone likes All Might! Boys and girls, children and grown-ups! From age 0 to 100!” “...I guess I just don’t fit the target demographic then.” Izuku huffed. “You’re so boring, dad.” “Says the one who’s been talking my ear off about the same topic for the last forty minutes.” The boy frowned, nibbling at his lip. “...Sorry. Am I annoying you?” “I’ll admit I may have hit my monthly tolerance limit of All Might trivia. Don’t worry about it though.” Izuku did in fact stop worrying, his father’s amusement clearly detectable in his voice. “I think I’ll be able to bear with your unabashed enthusiasm until you hit your mandatory disillusioned teenage phase. Then we’ll see if that obnoxiously cheery act of his will still resonate with you.”

June 2nd, 2274 “His normal body temperature is about two degrees higher than the average. Around 38-39 °C.” “And what can you deduce from that?” Izuku’s father goaded. The boy stared at the scribbles in his notebook in deep thought. “Uhm… that it’s difficult to tell if he has a fever or not?” His father laughed, but not unkindly. “I wouldn’t think so. You just said yourself that that is his normal temperature. Therefore, I wouldn’t call Endeavor’s doctor unless his thermometer read more than 39.5 °C, probably.” “Right.” Izuku nodded. That was obvious, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he understood that on his own? His father didn’t seem to mind his blunder though. “Try again.” “I think…” Izuku’s eyes were just about to bore a hole into his rough sketch of the hero’s costume. He gave up after the silence started to make him uncomfortable though. “...I don’t know. What can I deduce from that?” “Hm… You did bring up an interesting point. Do you know how fever works, Izuku?” “Yeah. Your body temperature rises when you’re sick. If it rises too much, you can get in serious trouble, you could even die. It never really gets that bad though.” “But why does it rise? What does your body accomplish by doing that?” “Uh…” Izuku frowned. He was sure he’d read or heard something about that, but the details escaped him at the moment. “To help you fight off the sickness, right? You feel worse at first, but it actually helps you get better.” “Exactly. Most bacteria and viruses that infect men thrive and multiply optimally at around 37 °C, which is the average person’s normal body temperature. But the growth of these microorganisms is hindered when the environment gets too hot. That is the principle that makes fever useful for humans. As your body gets hotter, it debilitates the invasors, so that your immune system can remove them more easily.” “..Oh.” It was a pity that his father called him only once a month, Izuku could have easily listened to him for hours every day. He always had so many interesting things to say about so many different subjects, and he always exposed them so neatly. “So. Can you deduce anything new now?” “Uh, uhm… He… I guess he...” Izuku snapped out of his reverie. Right, this was a conversation, not a lesson. He went over the new information in his head as quickly as he could. Higher temperature than normal... Fever... Microorganisms... Immune syst- Oh! “He heals quicker than- no, wait! He doesn’t get sick at all! Because he’s always too hot for the microorganisms! They can’t grow in his body!” “Excellent reasoning!” His father’s warm praise made Izuku’s chest swell with pride. “Obviously he isn’t completely immune to any and all infections, there are lots of exceptions to the mechanism I just explained to you. But yes, I do believe it’s safe to assume that our esteemed Flame Hero suffers from the occasional seasonal maladies far less often than the general population, if at all.” “That’s so cool…” Izuku immediately added the new data to his notes, almost breaking the tip of the pencil in his enthusiasm. “Is that what you wanted me to deduce? Or did you explain that just because I brought up the fever thing?” “I was actually thinking of something else. But, on second thought, it may be too technical a topic for an eight-year-old.” “...Can you tell me about it anyway?” “Of course.” Izuku would never not be grateful for the patience his father had, never denying him any clarification on anything. He was just about the only adult who never got tired of his questions. Even his mom sometimes hid her fatigue behind a mildly insincere I don’t know. “High heat isn’t exactly conductive to the activity of human cells either. That’s one of the reasons why you feel exhausted and achy when you have a fever, your body struggles to keep doing what it’s supposed to do above its normal temperature range. But Endeavor not only is at peak condition at 39 °C, he can also withstand open flames with a much higher temperature. This suggests that his cells must be fundamentally different from the average person’s on a biochemical level, that his quirk must provide some particularly efficient cellular mechanism to prevent heat damage. One example might be some dedicated enzymes to protect proteins from denaturation, but now I’m entering mere speculation.” A pause. “Did you follow me?” “...Kind of.” Izuku said, kind of lying but not entirely. He had followed most of that. He scrawled and circled a couple of terms he hadn’t grasped - Biochemical - Enzymes - Denaturation - on the page. He didn’t want to waste his father’s time by asking him to explain the meaning of words he could easily look up later on his own. “The gist of it is that Endeavor’s Hellflame has at least two facets. Not only ‘creating fire’, but also ‘not incinerating himself’. The first trait would be a fatal liability without the second.” “Got it!” Izuku cheered. Now that he had understood completely. “You sure know a lot about quirks, dad! Like, a lot! About anything, really!” “For the sake of intellectual honesty, it must be said that it isn’t difficult to impress a primary schooler.” His father laughed. “I’m just older than you.” “How much older?” Izuku asked, realizing for the first time that no one had ever told him his father’s age. “Oh, by a lot. Centuries.” Izuku cackled. “You can’t be that old. You still go to work. Our neighbors are 80 and they’re already retired.” “I do try to keep a youthful outlook on life. But yes, quirks fascinate me quite a bit. And they make for the perfect topic to distract you from your incessant yapping about All Might.” “Speaking of All Might-” “No, I-” His father sighed theatrically. “I just walked into this one, didn’t I?” “Yep.” Izuku grinned. “What about his quirk? Do you know anything about it? He never gives straight answers when people ask him about it…” “That may be the single sign of intelligence he’s ever displayed. The more your enemies know about your quirk, the easier it is for them to find your weaknesses. I’m surprised the other pro heroes aren’t as reserved.” “I wonder why All Might does that, though. His quirk is… pretty obvious.” Izuku pondered. “It just makes him strong. Very strong. Like, the strongest ever. But that’s it.” “Allegedly, yes. But as you noticed yourself, if raw power was all there was to it, there would be no reason to skirt around the issue in interviews, no?” “So there must be something else… What do you think it might be?” “I think it would be no less than cruel to deprive you of the thrill of carrying out your own research.” Izuku let out a dissatisfied moan, and his father chuckled. “You are already so very proficient at it. Your mother told me you’ve already filled a whole notebook with hero and quirk analyses.” “Oh, ehr… It’s just stuff I read here and there…” “Mh, I’ve heard enough of your ‘stuff’ to know that there’s more than random factoids in that head of yours. In fact…” Izuku felt his cheeks warm for the compliment. “I think you’ve gotten old and judicious enough to be trusted with my emergency number.” “Uh? What emergency number?” “It’s a phone number I’ll always answer to, on any day and at any hour, in case you may find yourself in a bad situation. Hopefully you’ll never need it, but better safe than sorry. Now…” His father’s voice raised slightly, drowning out Izuku’s impending interruption. “Can I rely on the fact that you are aware that desperately wanting to tell me that All Might saved a kitten from a meteor does not qualify as an emergency?” Izuku pouted. “I know what an emergency is, dad.” “Good. Ask your mother to give you the number then. Don’t save it on your phone or write it anywhere. Memorize it, and be responsible with it.”

December 3rd, 2275 Sorry for the long silence. I had an accident on the job and I won’t be able to speak clearly for a while. We can talk with the included devices. Use your ring finger to activate them. Usual days, usual hours. Hisashi That short note held the first words Izuku had received from his father in the last five months. The first month he hadn’t phoned, Izuku had felt slightly disappointed, but understanding. His father was a busy man, surely something very important must have been requiring his full-time attention. It was fine, Izuku was confident he could manage to sweet-talk him into a double-length call the following month to make up for that. The second month, he had started to worry. His mother hadn’t heard from his father either. It was unprecedented not to hear from him for such a long time. Since Izuku could remember, his father had never skipped one of their monthly calls. They often talked on the first day of every month, and he kept trying to contact them exactly once each following day if his calls were missed. He never failed to reach them past the third day. He always called from a hidden number, so trying to get hold of him was not an option. The third month, Izuku’s mother had decided to use the emergency number. She hadn’t been able to get through to her husband, but the polite colleague of his who had picked up had reassured her that he was indisposed but overall fine, and would get in touch with them as soon as possible… which could still take a while. Curiously, the coworker had also instructed them to collect a sample of their fingerprints and send them to a specific address. Izuku had been mystified by the request, but his mother had readily agreed, commenting that it was “not the strangest thing Hisashi’s ever asked for”. The silent wait that followed had been a little uneasy, but not harrowing. Izuku and his mother reread the message a couple of times before opening the box they’d just been delivered. Inside were only the two mentioned devices with their respective chargers, snuggled among waterproof packaging and stuffing. They looked very much like ordinary mobile phones, except they had no buttons or ports on any side. Some quick experimentation proved that they could be turned on simply by pressing the indicated finger on the touchscreen. The display showed a very minimalistic chat interface, with a fixed red dot on the top left corner. No amount of tapping on the screen could bring up the virtual keyboard though, which was puzzling. There was no way to access the rest of the phone’s functions, if it even had any. It was the third day of the month, so technically still within the familiar communication window. Izuku kept poking and prodding at the buttonless phone for the whole afternoon until eventually, shortly after dinner, the red dot at the top of the chat became green. A minute later, a message popped up. Hello, Izuku. Izuku almost dropped his cup of hot chocolate in excitement, which was quickly replaced by frustration because he still couldn’t type anything in any way. How was he supposed to- Speak. I can hear you. “...Oh! Nice!” Izuku exclaimed. “Hi, dad! How are you? What happened?” I’ve been better. I got decked by a hysterical ape. Izuku frowned. “That’s not funny. Mom and I were very worried.” That wasn’t really a joke. What? What even- “...How? Did you break into a zoo or something…?” Sorry, you’re right. Let me rephrase. I had a violent disagreement with a brute. “Oh…” Izuku was about to ask for further explanations but he waited. The three bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen signalled that his father was still writing. We will have to communicate like this for a while. I hope it isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you. Judging by how long it took him to type even the shortest messages, Izuku thought it was going to be much more of an inconvenience for his father. He felt sorry for him. “No, not all. Is it… is it really bad? Shouldn’t you come home so we can help you get better? It sounds like you won’t be able to work anyway…” I’ll receive better medical treatment here, and I can still get some work done while I recuperate. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll recover fully sooner or later. Izuku picked at the lint of his blanket, choosing his words carefully. “You could… come home anyway. Even if you could work. When you’re feeling a little better. So we could spend some time together.” The three bouncing dots reappeared, but Izuku kept talking. He already knew what his father’s answer was going to be, but he wanted to take advantage of the delay to get a few more words in. “Some of my friends have parents that work far from home too. They’re away a lot, but… they do come back to visit sometimes. Usually for the holidays. At least… At least once.” At least his friends had actually met their fathers once in their whole lives, Izuku completed only in his head. You know how things stand. My job doesn’t afford me this kind of free time. “...What do you even do that won’t let you ever do anything?” Izuku muttered, out of sheer petulance. That was another familiar point of contention, to which his father replied with the same, word-for-word justification he always used. Every detail concerning my activities is classified by the government. We’ve been over this. Don’t be childish. And that was usually the end of it. Any further questioning after the ‘classified’ thing invariably turned Izuku’s father into a slippery wall of smooth deflections. But, considering the current situation, Izuku felt like he could get away with a little more nagging, if he played his cards right. “I know you can’t say anything. But how about…” He physically leaned forwards, trying not to let his tension seep through his voice. “How about I try to deduce something? About your job. Just… for fun.” No new message showed up, not even the typing dots. Izuku decided that it was as much of an approval as he was going to get, so he started to voice his thoughts as they formed. “...Your job is classified by the government. So it’s important, very important, so important that other people can’t know about it.” When he was very young, Izuku had obviously interpreted it as irrefutable proof that his father must be some sort of secret agent. He had exposed his conclusion to Kacchan and his gang once. They had… not-so-respectfully disagreed. Izuku had never brought up the matter with them afterwards. “Your note said that you got hurt on the job. So someone you know from work punched you so hard that, even after five months, you still can’t talk well.” Izuku paused. That was… a scary idea. It dawned on him, for the first time since the beginning of this whole ordeal, that his father may have really dodged a bullet there. What kind of a brute could possibly want to injure someone that much…? Surely a criminal… A villain, maybe…? “Your job is dangerous, and it leaves you almost no free time. It also pays well.” That last item was admittedly a shot in the dark, Izuku didn’t really know much about money handling. But he had noticed that his mother never denied him a gift or a treat on the grounds of its cost (his vast collection of All Might memorabilia was a testament to that), like so many of his friends’ relatives were wont to do. She didn’t need a job herself, and Izuku remembered overhearing a conversation she had with Kacchan’s mom where she had said that they were ‘well provided for’. “You know a lot about a lot of stuff, especially about quirks and heroes. You know a lot of things about quirks and heroes that I couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.” Izuku paused, racking his brain for anything else that stuck out. Before he could come up with more points to make, his father finally wrote back. You sure put some thought into this. I’m impressed. The lack of reprimands was an encouragement in its own right. Now came the hard part. These were all facts that he already knew, now he had to put them together… and no matter how much he tried to come up with different possibilities, there was only one explanation that rang true in Izuku’s mind. “Dad… are you some sort of… undercover hero?” Izuku waited with baited breath for the dancing dots to turn into a complete message. Definitely not. ...Aw, shoot. Although I guess I do happen to deal with heroes quite often in my line of work. Izuku gasped. That was the first real piece of information his father had ever shared with him about his job! And wow, he worked with heroes! And whatever support he lent them had to be pretty vital if he was always so busy and tight-lipped. “So you’re like… a policeman? An informant that tracks down villains for the heroes to catch? Or an engineer bound by trade secret? Or-” Enough, Izuku. I’m supposed to be resting. I don’t think being given the third degree by my own son counts as such. Izuku deflated. So close to the truth, and yet so far… Maybe he could manage to get some other clue out of his father later. But… there was one more thing he simply had to ask. “...Have you ever met All Might?” I’m just going to ignore you after this. Well, it had been worth a try. Izuku finally relented, reasonably satisfied with the result of his investigation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. No more questions. And no All Might stuff. Not that I have much to tell you about him. He hasn’t really been around lately.” Hasn’t he, now? Uh, odd. It wasn’t like his father to miss an opportunity to dodge All Might gossip. Izuku supposed there’d be no harm in taking advantage of this atypical spark of curiosity. “Yeah. It’s been like this for a few months. Rumors say he’s abroad, working on some large scale mission. Something very secret, that’s why there are no articles on him in newspapers from other countries either.” I wasn’t aware of this. That’s very interesting. Although I couldn’t imagine anyone less suited to hushed-up operations. Izuku couldn’t help but snort. In light of the recent revelation, he wondered if his father was so unapologetically critical of All Might because he had worked with him and they hadn’t gotten along… which seemed kind of impossible. How could All Might be the unpleasant type of coworker? Or maybe his father really was just jealous because he couldn’t work with All Might often enough. A sudden thought occurred to the boy. “...Sorry, I guess you don’t want to hear about hero stuff now that you’re, uh… on forced vacation.” Actually, I’d love to. I’ve been a little out of the loop lately, I need to catch up with the news anyway. Fire away all the information you have. Izuku smiled. “Even about All Might?” Especially about All Might.

[strwbryshortcake]

Communicate with me

First encounter

a;n ⇶ i know it’s a shitty title lol sorry, it’s so hard to name chapters!!! 

n e ways, here’s the first chapter of Communicate with me ! Slow one but yk, just setting the bases lol, hope you like it

there will be more chapters obviously ! i will try to update as much as possible

w;c ⇶ 1246 words

masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Tap, tap, tap.

Tsukishima frowned and tried to concentrate.

Tap, tap, tap.

He did his best to try and ignore the annoying sound that just wouldn’t stop.

Tap, tap, tap.

He turned his head and looked around him to identify who was making this horrible, absolutely atrocious rythm. It sounded like someone tapping his foot on the ground. It seemed like he was the only one who was bothered by it, everyone was concentrated on the English teacher, taking notes or answering questions. How could they not hear it? He wondered why his professor didn’t ask the culprit to stop. Continuing to look around, he finally saw who was annoying the hell out of him. It was a girl that he didn’t notice at the beginning of the year. Was she always here? She had to be or else he would’ve remember her introducing herself.

“Hey!” He whispered loud enough, he hoped, for her to hear.

“Mh?” She turned her head, searching for who was calling her.

“Over here.” She finally looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Could you stop?” He pointed to her foot, still tapping. “It’s annoying. I can’t concentrate.”

“Oh, sure, sorry.”

She reajusted herself in her seat and continued to listen to the lesson.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

It hasn’t even been ten minutes. He looked at her again and sighed when he saw her playing with her pen, knocking it against her wooden desk.

For fuck’s sake.

Everyone turned to look at him and the teacher furrowed his brows, stopping mid-sentence.

Did he just say that out loud?

“Something to add, Tsukishima?”

“No, sorry, I guess I was thinking out loud.” He glared at the girl who offered him an apologetic smile, mouthing Sorry.

Break arrived soon enough and before she even had the time to stand up and leave, he was in front of her desk.

“You think it’s funny?” He crossed his arms on his chest, straightening his back to seem even taller.

“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” He took a step back when she got up. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.

“Making those noises. You find it funny?”

“Now you’re just assuming things.” She let out a dry laugh. “Not everything revolves around you, Tsukishima, I already said I was sorry, why do you feel the need to confront me?”

“I just spent an hour trying to take notes and my textbook is blank because of your little game.”

“I can lend you my notes if you want.” She said as she was gathering her things. “But I don’t have time for your little outburst, I got things to do.”

“That’s not the point-…”

“You want them or not?” She cut him.

“I don’t want your stupid notes!” He raised his voice, starting to lose his temper.

“Too bad for you then, beanpole.” She made her way around him and left the classroom, leaving him in front of her now empty desk.

What the fuck?

“Hey, Yama! You know who this girl is?”

“Mh?” Yamaguchi approached him. “What girl? You know there’s nobody there right?” He looked at the desk Tsukishima was staring at.

“I didn’t mean-… you know what, forget it. You know the girl who sits there?”

“Yeah, I talked to her a few times. She’s nice.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s her name?”

“I only know her last name, Hamasaki.”

⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵⨴⨵

“… And then, i hear his fucking voice being like “Oh fuck’s sake” so I turn around and this man is sitting there, looking right at me with daggers in his eyes and in my head I’m like “What is his problem?” y’know? But wait… It doesn’t end here ! So like, the teacher said something to him blablabla, I’m looking at him and I’m mouthing “Sorry” with my cutest smile and he’s still staring at me like he’s going to kill me!” She stops a second to take a sip of water. “But then, when I’m 'bout to leave, this fucking Eiffel Tower of a man comes right. in. front. of my desk and he’s all like “You think it’s funny, do you?” ” She’s making a funny face while imitating his voice the worst way possible. “And I was like “Man what’s your point? You want my notes or what?” 'Cause you bet your ass he was saying it was my fault if he didn’t write anything! And noooo, he’s being an asshole again and saying he doesn’t want my stupid notes so I left. God, I would’ve paid to see his face at this moment.”

“You need to control yourself Aika…”

“Oh come on Daichi, you know me!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying that.” He laughed at the face she was making. “If he’s bothering you again, tell me and I’ll have a talk with him. What’s his name?”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much, big brother. And… You know what, it’s not that important. I’ll just ignore him like I do with everyone in my class.”

“See, that’s why no one likes you!” He pushed her with his shoulder playfully. “You need me to take you to your rehearsal tonight?”

“No, no, don’t bother, you have practice too tonight and I wouldn’t want to be a burden… If you could just pick me up when you’re done? I don’t want to walk alone in the dark. Too much creeps.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll text you.” He shuffled her hair and stood up. “I gotta go to class. See you tonight.”

“Bye.”

She watched him with a tiny smile and pulled out her homework. She was sitting by herself on a bench that was next to the gym.

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The next time he saw her was during their sports class. Everyone was running laps around the field. He noticed her right away because she was the only girl that could keep up with the boys’ pace. She was next to Yamaguchi, making small talk with him as her ponytail swayed side to side.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be a handful sometimes.” Yamaguchi laughed a little bit while scratching his neck, probably because he was embarassed.

“Yeah, he’s a dick, you can say it!”

“It’s not like that! He just has a hard time… speaking to other people.”

“Whatever. He was an asshole, you can’t convince me otherwise. Anyway, how was training yesterday? Daichi seemed really tired.”

So she knew Daichi… Was she his girlfriend?

“Well, you know, the usual. But he helped Kageyama and Hinata so maybe that’s why. They have too much energy!” They both laughed and Tsukishima caught himself staring at her. “Oh, hey Tsukki!” Yamaguchi finally noticed him.

She turned her head just a bit and glared at him before accelerating, leaving them behind.

“Bye, Yama!”

“Ugh, what did she want?” He asked him, as if he hadn’t listened to their whole conversation.

“Nothing special. She was upset with you.” He gave him a little slap on the back of his blonde head. “You could’ve been nicer. Now she thinks you’re an asshole.”

“Good. One more person that won’t try to annoy me.”

At that sentence, Tadashi bursted into laughter.

“Oh, 'cause you think that’s what’s going to happen? Even I don’t know her that much but I can tell you that you’re really wrong, my friend. She won’t let this die.” He then lowered his voice and said playfully : “She wrote your name in her Death Note.”

Little did Tsukishima know that Yamaguchi was right. She wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

[hootpoop12]

Ok, Meat route feelings:

Ok, this is...by FAR the superior route just saying. Not. That that is saying much seeing what the candy route was but every time I fall into despair over this I just grit my teeth and think about how parts of meat weren’t terrible pfft

-Lets get the johnrezi out of the way cause that’s kinda my thing. So. Good shit pfft I will admit I was little worried that Calliope and mainly Dirk could have tampered with them a bit but I’m pretty sure for the most part they didn’t? Dirk kinda made John feel weird post coital which kinda pissed me off but other than that. Them feelings 100% legit. These two people genuinely love each other. In both routes John’s thought would ALWAYS drift back to Terezi and Terezi’s only comfort was having John’s body with her after it all. Their romance is both cathartic because they are two MISERABLE people who only have each other to understand their feelings and fucking tragic because in candy all he had was a picture and in meat they had a physical confirmation of their feelings only for it to be voyeur’d and then ripped away by fucking John’s death. If there is more to come- I can only image there is- Terezi and Vriska will hopefully somehow team up and look for a way to revive John. Even If their romance was fleeting like 95% ship in Homestuck their support and care for one another is fucking REAL. It was straight UP the only real thing in Candy and I will fight others who say differently. 

-John going back in time to round everyone up felt weird. For the first time they all really felt like children and them all fighting lord english? WOW. Ouch. Especially Dave?? This Dave was the last to go and in the most brutal fucking way?? Kid had to watch Rose and Jade die and still fought pretty well, though. which goes to show Dave is a fucked up dude but when it comes to shit that needs to get done he can hold his own. Thaaaaaats why Adult Dave in both epilogues kinda grated on me a little? Not to fucking say UGH Dave is now more healed and stable this sucks!! I’m more saying there’s a lot of fics that whumpify Dave into a soft boi who too pure for this world and it slightly reminds me of it. That’s probably more of me just being to attached to MY view and headcanons of Dave, though, and maybe I need to let that go a little? 

-Davekat finally fucking happened. Ten years is too long of a slow burn for me I’m sorry lmao seriously I sound like Dirk when I say this but I really thought they sac’d up during the meteor and were already in a relationship. Dave’s whole conversation with John on the lilypad.......literally sounded like he was in a relationship with Karkat.......what the hell, honestly...........I’m glad it was on Dave’s own volition rather than’s Dirk’s gross as fuck pushing at least.

-That brings us to Dirk. The man who has been making my stomach church whenever I remember. My feelings about him are...............fucking complicated. I’ve been reblogging and bitching about him being “ruined” or whatever but.......That really is the simplified version of what I’ve been thinking. I think.....He’s been corrupted by his aspect or he’s just taking this heel “must be the new villain” too seriously. Like, I fucking despise it when people go off and say Bro was corrupted by Cal or Gamzee was corrupted by literally anything cause those two are just fucking trash, I’m sorry. I think I’m mostly upset by Dirk more than anything because his WHOLE thing was that he was a controlling dude with the potential to become an atrocious man and that he was starting to really take control of his path and work his way into becoming a better person. His talk with Jane on his sacrificial slab? His talk with Dave on the roof..........His heart aspect had begun to bring all his splinters together for his ultimate self and when the majority of your splinters carry a very sociopathic personality..............Man, there was literally no hope for him ever, huh? Literally none. The theme of working towards a better version of yourself is MEANINGLESS if your name is Dirk Strider. A character who struggles with depression, suicide, and absolute self loathing and his only path is this. Become the monster he was always terrified to become. Like I’m straight up about to cry writing this holy shit. Dirk is one of my favorite characters of all time- my FIRST favorite character when reading the comic- one of my MAIN reasons for reading it because I heard there was a canon gay character and I needed that in that time of my life. What almost hurts just as much as Dirk being a good guy and forcefully having this fate thrust upon him is that Roxy, the person Dirk cared about the most,.........Like............misgendering them. and being incredibly flippant and rude about trans stuff.......I can’t even begin to describe how much it hurt to read the character you looked up so much fucking being terrible about something that means so much to you. I’m agender and it just hurt is all I’m saying. This leads back to the bizarre issue of Dirk also being sexist and using gay in a strangely duragatory way. Like, Dirk grew up not really putting values on labels so for him to be weirdly transphobic does lead back to the ideas of this being a corrupted Dirk or him just playing the role of a villain. I do believe there is still the old Dirk we know in there, however, as even now Dirk states he could NOT hurt Dave. So some hope?

-Jake. I’m pretty sure Hussie fucking hates the dude like holy shit lmao......lmao in the least funniest way..............In both route Jake is jerked around like a plaything, having his personality dampened by the oppressive narrative. The one time we see Jake have repreive from such a shitty fate is when he’s talking to davekat about the election. That was the single moment we saw the curtain fall and the “intelligence” reenter the dude. I know this is like the “fanon” version of Jake. Every single character has fallen to that: whumpified Dave, puppet master dirk, bitchy mean jane, ect but litereally reading about him coming back to himself fucking HURT. Him being made to be obsessed with Dirk was so fucking gross I was cringing the entire time. The last few months I’ve been slowly accepting DirkJake back into my heart and this just fucking SHATTERED that warmth holy shit. Jake’s struggles with non-consensual bullshit is really starting to wear me down I just want him to be happy and RESPECTED. 

-Alrighty heavy stuff out of the way I will say this: I read candy first and at the end where Alt!Calliope is speaking to Aradia I had almost no goddamn idea what the fuck she was talking about. I even started to get kinda angry cause Homestuck tends to not take itself TOO seriously? There are some philosopical mind melting shit to read and consider but never too much where it’s incomprehensible to me? So when I finished candy I was like alright. Hussie just wanted to jerk himself off. whatever. Then I read meat and was like. OH. This.......this is actually fantastically interesting I can do this meta bullshit! and despite everything I just said about Dirk..........I fucking MISSED reading in his voice and it caught me off guard SO much which is what I love about Homestuck. There were a lot of tip offs but the one that really stood out to me before finding out was the Jake and Jane makeout. It kept going back to Dirk and I was very surprised by that? Jake sounded like he was over Dirk and yet here he was......unable to stop thinking about it? Shit makes. SO much sense I definitely am gonna reread it to look for other stuff, too. The tug of war via the narrative was incrediably entertaining as well.....Dirk is like a super sensitve incel now (caliborn would be proud) so it was hilarious to see him lose grip of it to Calliope. UGH I’m a little guilty to say it but I’m such a slut for anything Dirk I’m also KINDA looking forward to see where this goes and enjoying him being a villain A LITTLE. I know I sound wish washy but hey sometimes feelings contradict!

[unfortunately-lovestruck]

Diego/Antonio Teaching MC Spanish Headcanons

Since you guys seemed to like the Arabic post with Razi (link here), I thought it was about time I do this one as well. Enjoy!

Diego

MC constantly fucks with him and purposely messes up just to amuse herself

Don’t even mention how many times she’s sung Despacito

it’s atrocious, really

“Diego, estoy caliente”

“Tengo calor, for the fifth time, it’s tengo calor!”

Diego knows she’s just screwing with him, but so help him God if he has to hear her say “Estoy embarazada” one more time—

to be completely honest, he’s not even sure if she knows she’s saying that one wrong too

ser and estar are.... challenges, to say the least

along with that, he’s naturally just teaching her Castillian Spanish when she’s more used to Latin American

now usually, that’s not a problem

until...

“MC, voy a coger un taxi”

“I’m sorry you’re going to what a taxi—?“

It’s the little things

You’d think Diego would be more aware of these dialect differences (seeing as he was part of the cause of them) but he somehow just doesn’t

So now he has to explain that, no MC, he is not going to fuck a taxi, and that no, he doesn’t know why that specific verb changed so drastically over 500 years

MC’s pronunciation is decent, and he hangs onto that one comfort at the very least

even if she has a hard time grasping the importance of accents

“MC, años has to have the ñ, there’s no option to exclude it”

“I know it’s there, just take my word for it”

“Just make sure to write it down, please”

“It doesn’t seem that important though”

oh how wrong she was in that statement

for the rest of the night, Diego had to explain to her that instead of writing “I’m 23 years old” she wrote “I have 23 anuses”

it was an eventful night

it still amazes him how, despite her cute (but constant) mistakes, she manages to nail curse words every, single, time

this especially flourishes during moments of road rage

MC (whilst honking aggresively in the car): CHINGA TU MADRE PINCHE PENDEJO

Diego (with whiplash): ¿QUE?

however, regardless of the many fuck-ups (and overwhelming awkward explanations), the two have fun and actually make progress

sometimes, MC can have a whole, stable conversation with him completely in Spanish

the others in Havenfall’s Finest watch with amazement as the two start having conversations half in Spanish and half in English without even realizing it, only after a few months of learning

and of course, the more amorous conversations are especially prominent as well

they settle on the term “mi amor”, and ignore JD gagging exaggeratedly in disgust whenever they do

it’s simple, but no matter how basic the term is, it will never lose the effect MC always experiences when she hears them from him

Antonio

his teaching style is much more casual

he’s also much more aware of dialect differences, and manages to explain them to MC pretty efficiently

because of this the “coger” crisis was averted rather quickly

he knows when she’s messing with him just like Diego

only, his approach to combat it is a little bit different

MC: Estoy embarazada

Antonio: ¿Verdad? ¿Cuando es tu fecha de vencimiento?

MC: What now

Antonio: Pues, la fecha de vencimiento. ¿Es un niño o niña?

yeah she didn’t try to mess with him again after that

he actually kept the joke up even after that and only stopped when she finally said “No estoy embarazada”

although, when she purposely made the intentional mistake of saying, “Estoy caliente” things got much more.... well, heated

what’s spicier, a hot cheeto or Antonio’s dick because the world may never know

back to his teaching style

like with everything, he’s cunning about it

he only says sentences in Spanish or makes her try and figure out a sentence if he’s confident she’ll get it

and most of the time, his guesses are correct, and she ends up feeling proud of herself and is much more willing to try speaking on her own

plus he also likes feeling her absolutely beam down the emotional connection when she gets something right but he’s a bad bitch so he won’t admit it

it’s his form of encouragement in a way

and even though the bond certainly helps, he’s almost scarily effective at knowing exactly how to teach MC

she ends up carrying whole conversations in just a month or two

he more or less cracked the code kind of

he understands how she processes information, and thus makes it easier for her to actually retain all of it

Example

“Ok, but why does the word for pregnant sound like the word for embarassed, it’s just a little too uncanny”

“Well think of this. What’s an embargo?”

“It’s when ships can’t leave a station or something, right?”

“I don’t know you, tell me”

“You’re the ex-conquistador here”

“Touché. But what does that mean the ships are? What’s the verb of embargo, and embargar?”

“Theyre.... embarred”

“Exactly.”

“Oh my God. Pregnancy is just a fetus embargo.”

“Bingo.”

......

He never said she had a normal way of understanding things

But does any of this mean he’s the better teacher between him and Diego?

Well

Not necessarily

If anything, MC’s vocabulary for swears only increases under his guidance

Sometimes she’ll learn just from listening to him curse

Other times he will intentionally teach her some nasty-ass phrase

“Que te folle un pez” was his personal favorite

And of course, one of the first ones she learned was “Me cago en la leche” after Antonio said it towards a very confused Victor

He actually cackled and applauded her one time when MC pointed to Victor and said “Gilipolla” completely unprovoked

Victor, however, was still very, very confused

And of course, with how extra Antonio is, he uses more pet names than MC can keep track of

she stopped counting when he somehow hit double digits

she didn’t even think there WERE that many pet names in one language to be honest

“cariño”, “cielo”, “mi corazón”, “mi vida”, “amada”, etc. etc. etc.

seriously, it’s borderline ridiculous

And that’s all I have for this! I hope you found it enjoyable and maybe even learned something from it! 💕

[sunkissis]

Bonjour guys,

I’ve had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer. I started a new venture called Mon Ami Paree walking tours and this weekend we are hopping on a train for our 17th wedding anniversary. It’s completely bananas to me that I have done anything for as long as seventeen years but I’ve been with lovely Antz for half of my life so I consider myself lucky. I’ve been thinking about how I am getting closer to the midpoint of my life (fifty is creeping on me) and all the things I’ve learned, failed and grown from. Here’s my list of real talk life advice that have shaped me thus far.

Don’t pick at your face. I am so old school in my skin regime that I still use toothpaste on my pimples and I never touch my face. Now that I live in a city without a car, I feel the dirt and sun more than ever. So, everyday I wash my face with Bliss fab foaming 2-in-1 cleanser & exfoliator with bamboo buffers  (I bought a huge bottle before we left LA) and moisturize with my Holy Grail Aveeno Positively Radiant Sheer Daily Moisturizing Lotion. That’s it! I try my best not to frown but I am embracing my laugh-line wrinkles.

Manners first in everyday situations. When I was 11, I spent a summer in Oklahoma with my Grandmother’s sister. My Great-Aunt was super traditionally strict and she basically put me in charm school boot camp that summer. No elbows on the table, ask to be excused from the table and always say Good morning when you greet someone. These are no-brainer rules for Liv, lucky me I rarely have to remind her but it’s such a dying part of our society. Bring a gift the first time you visit someone’s house, hold the door for people struggling, make eye contact when you speak to someone. So many people have a hard time learning names but I always say the person’s name when we meet to remember it. I also write myself notes to remind myself (cute family we met at the park with two kids and live in the 2eme). Please learn a strong handshake. When I meet someone with a weak handshake I want to head bump them so hard. How far will you get in life with that weak grip? I don’t trust weak hand shakers. I often have to catch myself from saying “Bless you” out loud when someone sneezes on the bus because I get such strange looks (I forget, no one speaks English). One of the most charming things I appreciate here in Paris is you must always speak to a shopkeeper or bus driver when you enter. I also love how people offer their seats to elderly or pregnant women without a thought. From my observations, pregnant ladies get treated like princesses here. Remember, politeness goes a long way and shows integrity.

Always bring a umbrella! I have learned the hard way so many times since I moved to this land of unpredictable rain. I have gotten caught in rain and hailstorms without even a jacket. I am so LA that I forget to wear a jacket when I leave the house and the sun is shining bright. Little did I know it can take less than an hour for the weather to take a major turn. We have acquired so many cheap umbrellas because we get caught in the rain. Now we carry a bag every time we go out with two small umbrellas, a pack of wet wipes, portable phone charger and cords, hand sanitizer, our table tennis rackets (almost every park has a table) and a water bottle. These things used to live in the trunk of my car but now I have to schlep everything myself.

Invest in quality lip balm. I used to throw Vaseline on my lips if they were chapped for years in my twenties. Then I got an Anthropologie gift card for my birthday so I bought some fancy Smith Rosebud Salve. I loved the smell of the balm but the container would get bent in my bag and it was too cumbersome and messy to open. So when I found EOS in sweet mint at Target, I was addicted. I literally brought 20 of them to Paris with me because I fear running out. My Mom even sends me more in my care packages because she knows I am obsessed. Find a quality lip balm and never leave home without it in your purse. Trust me, I had to stop at a 24 hour grocery store to buy some lip balm while I was on my way to the hospital when I was in labor with Liv.

My Mommy keeps me stocked with LA necessities.

Don’t buy something with the hope of losing weight to wear it later. I bought a cute baby doll dress from Target thinking, it’s so cute and not expensive, I’ll lose some weight in my arms and be able to wear it in a few months. That dumb dress sat in my closet for five years. Why mentally psyche yourself up for something you can’t enjoy now? I no longer starve myself, or beat myself up about my weight. I am healthy and loved. I walk more now than I ever did and I feel great in my clothes. The apparel industry has come around to accepting that all women aren’t size six, so I feel great about being able to buy clothes that don’t look matronly or feel left out of what the cool girls are wearing. I was even asked to try-on clothes for two brands I adore (my darlings at Ace & Jigand Ban.do)  This 42 year old lady is still as rad as I was at 22!

Never not wearing my favorite Ace & Jig dress

Embrace your quirky self! I used to have an unhealthy relationship with my hair. I have bleached it to death, chemically straightened it for years and mistreated it out of sheer laziness. The straw that broke my hair unhappiness was in January 2017. I was putting a chemical straightener on my hair when I had to take off my Olivia pendant necklace (the chemicals would ruin it)  I somehow lost my necklace that day so I vowed to never use that stupid (and damaging) stuff again. I haven’t put any chemicals or color on my hair since then. I replaced my necklace too. When I want to change my look, I get colorful braids. Now that I live in a more humid climate (my hair literally turns into a mushroom the second I go outside)

I’ve learned to embrace my natural curls. I have an established hair routine that I do once in a while because I’m still lazy but the less I mess with my hair the stronger and healthier it’s been. I bought products I know keep my dry, damaged hair moisturized and leave it alone. I broke my expensive flat iron when I first moved her because of the dumb voltage. I bought a new Euro flat iron but it doesn’t work as well as my old one so I decided, why go through the time and energy trying to make my curly hair straight? Now I throw tons of leave-in conditioner in my hair, or sometimes I wear flexi rods overnight and poof! I’m little orphan Lizzie.

Young Lizzie and Lizzie in her 20s (with extensions)

I’ve retired my signature braids for the summer to give my hair a rest and let it breathe. Braids are a protective hairstyle in the Black hair community but they can also cause breakage if you use the wrong type of hair or have them braided too tight. Plus they are annoyingly hot.

Please for the love of God know the difference between homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled and mean different things!) I am in a Facebook travel group and when I see adult people typing “I waisted a ticket because the whether was bad,” I have a brain meltdown. Listen, I am no grammar snob, I am completely aware my spelling is atrocious (thanks autocorrect for fixing that for me) and I am a serial run-on-sentence writer, but if you aren’t sure (NOT SHORE) which word to use, take a second and Google it. It took me years to grasp the difference between stationary and stationery. I subscribe to Word Genius which emails me a new word a day. I really wish I had a reason to use the word hornswoggle on my blog. Learn new things all the time.

Master your penmanship. I may sound so old-fashioned and prissy in my unsolicited advice but have you ever tried to read a doctor’s prescription? I now live in a country where they write in lovely italic cursive however, I can’t tell an S from an R. Liv has beautiful penmanship, I have always instilled taking pride in your handwriting in her from an early age yet the French education system has taken over and she writes so teeny tiny, I can’t figure it out. I bought her a calligraphy set and she loves to practice writing fancy.

Not everyone is going to like you. Believe it or not this is hard for extroverts like myself to accept. I can be hypersensitive and get anxiety around new people. I am an only child so my friendships are everything to me. I have been told that I am a people person but I really have a small inner circle of only about five or six people who really know the real uncensored me. I’ve had to deal with people flaking on me, people mischaracterizing me and many people doubting me for years. My confidence comes from learning self-trust. I am okay being the loud girl who listens to weird music or dresses like a toddler obsessed with rainbows, that is who I am, not sorry about it. I can’t help but be selfish about my happiness. I try my best to set an example for my (sometimes shy and quiet) daughter because growing up is hard and things like bullying, eating disorders and now the fake Instagram perfection standard makes it even harder. I never had a sibling to give me advice or tell me I look crazy so I’ve made great friends and spent time listening and learning. I now have many sisters (by marriage and my bff) but I wish I knew at 13 that just because someone didn’t like me meant something was wrong with me. As you get older, you stop caring what other people think. What they think doesn’t matter and are inconsequential to your success! 

Proud Pokemon Go Mom. If you play too, let me know so we can be friends!

Fail, ugly cry and then try that shit again until you succeed! OMG, this was a hard lesson for me to learn y’all. I am impatient and when I don’t immediately get my way, I turn into the biggest brat ever. I have gone through every type of disappointment, felt like life was over for me and through all the drama and heartache, always came through better than I started. It’s weird when you are going through something serious, it feels like being stuck in quicksand. I now know that the harder something is for me to achieve, the more it’s worth it. I also know that anything worth doing requires sacrifice and commitment. You may sacrifice sleep, spending money, eating desserts but will it be worth the sacrifice in the end? Ask yourself this when going into a new venture. I have learned in the past twenty two years that my internal stress and anxiety is a complete overreaction. I know deep down things will work out because it always seems impossible until it’s done. The word is literally I’M POSSIBLE!!

Have a lovely rest of the summer. I am still working on last summer’s travel posts, it’s taking forever because my laptop memory is full so for every photo I upload I have to throw away three. It’s moving slow but it’s possible.

Bisous

My mid-life check in Bonjour guys, I've had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer.