#i am free and untraumatized

[synth-operator]

"There's nothing you can do."

GODDDDDDDDDDDD that astro episode was crazy, i salute the poor toilets who sacrificed themselves in this episode </3 why must the astros be so evil but also attractive as hell at the same time also yes i see why you simp for this toilet too, mr dafuqboom

[cinnamonsera]

TWST Dark AU Incorrect Quotes #3

Have I finished outlining the main fic? no. Have I written a single chapter? also no. am I going to post another incorrect quotes anyway? yep.

All quotes from the Incorrect Quotes Generator

Ruggie: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities. Ruggie, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Lancelot, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child. Deuce, entering the room with a small cut on their ankle: Who the f-

Ruggie: You say “Please” and “Thank you” in front of Cheka all the time, and they never repeat it. Ruggie: But you call Leona an “Ass-faced motherfucker” ONE TIME…

Pandora: The saying “it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” no longer applies to Lancelot.

*the Squad cleaning up* Vil: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. Parhelion, to Sebek: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

(I'm sorry sebek you're not bad, parhelion just hates your guts)

Ace: I love hearing Housewarden Rosehearts shouting at someone else. It makes such a nice change.

Cater: Why is there blood everywhere? Ace: I may have aggressively poked someone with a knife. Cater: You stabbed someone?! Ace: No, no. I aggressively poked someone with a knife.

Trey: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life. Pandora: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back... Ace: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. Cater: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years. Leona: I knew I lost that potential somewhere. Lancelot: Mental stability, my old friend! Trey: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

(I'm sorry trey you're like the only untraumatized person in the school)

*The gang is about to do something dangerous* Pandora: Shouldn’t someone give a pep talk? Jamil: Go ahead. Pandora: Be careful. Pandora: Don’t die. Lancelot: *Holds back a laugh* Jamil: Great. We’re all bloody inspired.

Deuce: So, what's it like living with Rook? Pandora: They once referred to sand as "heterosexual glitter." Deuce: ... Pandora: I love them so much.

Cater: So, Lancelot and Ace Trappola. Cater: According to this, you two are being accused of: Armed Robbery, Vandalism, Drug Abuse, Grand Theft Auto… Ace: We had a bad day. Cater: And… MURDER?! Lancelot: It was a pretty bad day…

Ace: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

[idiotic21]

Mr and Mrs Hamato

Chapter 8 - Too Much Heaven

Previous All Stories

The baron slammed his fist on the ground and began looking around with anger.

Seconds passed then a sharp shrill pierced through the air. The Silver Knight leaped out of her portal with two screaming boys right behind her. She fell with style landing gracefully. Donnie and Casey fell face down. "Come on. We need to get going!" Sil urged, shaking Donnie awake from his awestruck.

"Your portal-"

"Yes, I know," Sil grunted pulling him and Casey up. "We were in space!" Casey clutched at his hair.

"Yes, yes, but we really need to go now!" She said in a hurry as the baron had his men pointing up to the roof. Some of Big Mama's men close behind.

"HOW- Wha- SIL THAT WAS-"

"Amazing, I know but please gush over this later Donnie!" The Silver Knight held his palm tightly and pulled him into a run. Casey yanked by his gear.

A knife flew right at the trio from the front as the goons tried to box them in. Sil ran forwards, slapping her hands to create a powerful burst of energy knocking some goons to the ground. A new portal opened up and the teens jumped in.

They reappeared on another rooftop just up ahead.

And that's how it went. If the bounty hunters got too close for comfort, Sil would portal them to another rooftop. Far enough to get at least a few minutes of a head start before the heat of the chase would pick up again.

---

"Damn it! There are too many of them!" Casey grumbled, sending another round of explosives toward the hunters. Sil created another portal, transporting the three of them to another rooftop not too far away, just enough to give them a five-minute gap from the goons behind. The portal opened and Donnie and Casey jumped out, adrenaline pumping in their veins all prepared to fight. Sil jumped out after them and landed unceremoniously. "Hey, you good?"

Donnie worriedly checked her over for any wounds. "What's wrong?" Casey asked worriedly.

Sil struggled to stand, sighing "I can only create so many portals at a time. We've been going at this for ten minutes and I have created more than twenty portals. Give or take a few more and I am done for."

Yells could be heard from behind them. Donnie stood up in front of Sil protectively, "Think you can make another portal?" Sil focused all her energy on her fingertips. The tingling sensation began. Sil grunted feeling a bolt of sweat drip down her forehead beneath her mask.

"I-I can't." she huffed tiredly. Casey patted her back comfortingly. Although he could not see, Sil offered him a sweet smile. Something about this boy comforting her felt oddly familiar.

Donnie channeled his mystic energy to his tech-bo adding a heavily loaded hammer on one end. "We make our stand here."

The three squared their shoulders as the goons finally made it to their roof. "You know what we want!" Big Mama's goons pointed their weapons at Donnie and the two.

"No! Hand her to us and the baron will let you live a worry-free life."

"How about this? Neither of you gets the damsel and all of you will walk away with your lives untraumatized by my sweet sweet science!" Donatello glared.

"An amazing threat but seeing as we are both men of science, you will hand over the Silver Knight to me," the baron appeared in a flash of red, stepping out from a hellish-looking portal he made.

"The baron has portal powers?" Donnie asked bewildered.

"Apparently..." Sil shuddered, feeling the intense energy rippling out of the baron. It seems that even Big Mama's hunters felt it and began to back away. The baron trailed his gaze towards the Spider's bounty hunters. "I see you recognize power. Not even Big Mama can impose such respect and fear."

Donnie turned to find that Big Mama's goons were indeed shaking with fear. "Go back to her and announce the winner of today. I will graciously let you live," the baron's voice grew darker. The goons gulped. Finally one of them barked orders to back off, "Big Mama will hear about this..." they growled, leaving the rooftop with their tails tucked under their legs. The baron just smiled, way too gently for someone reeking of evil powers. His beady red eyes then turned to the trio.

"I hope my demonstration of power has made you come to your senses," he spoke to Donnie. "The girl, if you please." Donnie didn't need to reply. He took a fighting stance, Casey doing the same right behind him.

The baron groaned disappointedly. Snapping his fingers, red tendrils flew out of the still-open portal and wrapped tightly around the turtle and the human, tying them to the ground and choking the air out of them.

"NO!" Sil screamed. "Look just stop!" she pleaded to the baron.

"Then come back to me. Surrender the meteor and yourself,"

Sil couldn't. She just couldn't. If the meteor fell into the baron's hands who knows what evil he would reek across the hidden city, and it would all be her fault.

Seeing the girl's hesitance, the baron signaled for his hunters to play threat. They sneered, bearing their weapons at Donnie's and Casey's necks. "One wrong move, my dear, and your friend pay the price," he said. Gagging came from the boys, Donnie and Casey turning a little blue from the squeeze from the baron's red hold. The goons laughed, one decided to sink the tip of his blade slightly into Donnie's neck. The turtle groaned but couldn't fight back.

"No. Ok fine. You made your point just don't hurt him. Don't hurt them," she begged again. The baron held his hand out wordlessly. Sil increased her grip on the bag. The gargled noises from Donnie and Casey being choked made her jump and she quickly produced the meteorite.

Behind her, she could hear Donnie trying to fight back. Casey told her in a gargled voice to run. She could not bring herself to. How could she? Sil knew she couldn't fight back either. She is a thief, not a warrior, and when the thief gets caught they must surrender.

The baron smirked as he watched the girl walk forwards with the meteorite in hand. He bent down to her level and smirked. A wicked thought passed by his twisted mind. He reached out a hand to remove her mask relishing quickly how the Silver Knight had tears in her eyes and wearing a look of defeat. Chuckling he turned her around and held her chin in a vice grip, craning her face forcefully to face the two boys.

Donnie fought back relentlessly against the baron's hold despite the knife shifting deeper into the skin of his neck, screaming threats, and profanities at the baron if he dared lay a hand Sil.

Casey. Casey Jones Jr, he had the world's most terrible deja vu. He knew those eyes, no. He knows those eyes. Dark and familiar, but caring all the same. He'd seen those eyes before when he was younger, in the future. The eyes of his cousin's mother. The eyes of someone he lost a long time ago. Casey began to shed tears, "It- it can't be,"

"I want you to remember this day as the day you failed to keep them alive." The baron whispered with a voice laced with poison. Sil broke down in tears but she made no sound, having no strength to fight back. The baron reached down to Sil's hands and plucked the meteorite. Pleased, he nodded to his goons "Bury them alive."

Three things happened. One, the hunters dropped an armed bomb between Donnie and Casey.

Two, the baron held Sil by her neck with one of his red tendrils and threw her over the roof before disappearing into the red portal with the hunters.

Three, Donnie had only felt this mass amount of range and protectiveness blooming from his chest. One when Raph jumped off the cliff, the first time the boys activated their ninpo. Two, when Leo was trapped in the Krang prison dimension, and three, when his precious Sil was thrown off the roof by some wicked scientist.

Even though he had only known the girl for a few days, Donnie naturally found himself in need of her. She felt like a missing piece of a puzzle for when she arrived, he felt complete. Donatello felt like he could do anything in the world when Sil was by his side. How uncharacteristic of him to feel such intense feelings over one girl he barely knew. Is this how future him felt towards his supposed wife?

Maybe this time, we would know.

Would teenage him in the now ever believe in destiny?

Who was he to say without experiencing it for himself? After all, the purple genius always made sure to conclude his findings with more than two data points. Searing power exploded from within Hamato Donatello. His Hamato Ninpo burst like flames, purple energy searching out like a firey sunburst all around him. Donnie's ninpo burned the tendrils holding him and Casey to dust.

In lightning speed, he pulled Casey off the roof and away from the bomb. The purple terrapin launched himself off the roof. His ninpo like an extension of him caught his damsel in distress. The trio fell off the roof, cushioned by Donnie's mystic energy as it formed a ball around them at Donnie's command. The bomb when off sending debris flying everywhere. In the mystic purple barrier, Donnie hugged Sil close to himself unknowingly shedding tears of his own.

When the debris settled enough, the mystic energy dissipated. Sil cried in Donnie's arms till she passed out of sheer exhaustion.

The boys remained silent as Donnie picked up Sil oh so gently. "Do you have any idea who she is?" Casey asked suddenly. His eyes had a sad glow to them. "What do you mean? We don't have time for this right now," he said softly and tried to walk by Casey.

"No. Listen, you have- you don't know do you?" The young human asked. Now pity was evident in his tone. "Tsk, I have no time to play guessing games, Casey. Contact Leo, and let him know to meet us here. I'll send the coordinates."

"I won't until you tell me you an inkling of who that woman really is!" Casey demanded.

Donnie grumbled and stepped closer, "What does it matter to you who she is, huh?"

"BECAUSE THAT'S YOUR WIFE!"

Donnie was silenced in shock. His eyes twitched in disbelief. "You're delusion Casey."

"I am not. You have no right telling me that I do not recognize my mother figure anywhere." Casey cried, feeling nostalgia and lost love looking at the woman in Donnie's arms. "Yeah well, you are delusional. You said that my supposed wife's name was Dianne. Her name is Sil," Donnie retaliated, nodding to the sleeping damsel in his arms., though he knew Sil was just a fake name.

"I think it's pretty clear you know that's fake." Casey pointed to the fear crossing Donnie's face. "Prove it," the purple turtle challenged. Casey's hand shook slightly as he reached for his top pocket. Donatello watched curiously as the young boy pulled out a lightly crumbled piece of paper.

A photo.

"Just see this. Look, Donnie. I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear but trust me when I say, I know those eyes anywhere. I know her eyes anywhere, anytime."

Donnie hesitated, then gently kneeled to let Sil's lower half body rest on the ground. Her head and torso leaned into Donnie's plastron.

Casey allowed Donatello to pluck the paper from his hands. Reality crashed down on him. "I-I," the soft shell turtle lowered the photo and looked to the girl, then back to Casey. Tears pooled in his eyes. "She's my wife.."

"She's my wife," Donnie whispered, unable to believe his eyes and ears. Casey didn't know how to comfort the genius, so he just sat with him in silence. 

How did Donatello feel? Donnie had the most amount of emotions ever experienced in his life. He felt scared. He felt tense. He felt betrayed that Sil didn't even think of sharing her real name with him. Donnie would have gone on forgetting that 'Sil' was just a shorter term for her alias. Would she have betrayed him though? She didn't know Donnie. She didn't hear what Casey said about her future. Or their future? 

"Master Donatello, are you alright?" 

Donnie frantically blinked away his tears, not knowing what to say or think. "You are sure- She is Dianne? Dianne Rosette?" 

No wonder being caring and kind came so naturally to him when Donatello and her were with each other. He knew her. He knows her. But she doesn't know him. Damn all the shameless flirting, lingering looks, and hand-holding. No wonder he didn't feel disgusted like he normally would with his brothers or anyone else. She was different. She was his? Was she his? Was he, hers?

"Yes. I know she is." Casey replied in a small voice. Donnie looked at Casey for a while, taking in the other male's demeanor. It isn't his fault, Donnie told himself. "It's alright. Sorry, I shouted, Casey. I just... have so much to think about now"

The younger boy nodded. Donnie decided to move from the current topic. He maneuvered Dianne-Sil, the girl in his arms to carry her again when he felt warm liquid dripping down her arm and onto his then the ground. "Shit. Shit shit shit!" 

"What's wrong?" Casey asked worriedly. "Her arm is bleeding. Casey, hold her sleeves up please," Casey did as Donnie requested. The both of them gasped as they saw silver cracks running up the brunette's brown skin. "Energy burns," the boys said together. 

Donnie nodded in finality, "Just like Mikey's when he opens portals. We need to get her home for medical treatment. She's losing blood, slowly but surely." 

Casey took the wristband that Donnie gave him to contact Leo and pass their coordinates. Above all else, he just wanted to get home.

"Oh, can Casey. Please don't tell anyone yet. I just... I need some peace before Mikey, Leo, or Raph, especially Splinter come to rant in my ear about ... her."

---

Back at the lair, Donnie left Casey to explain everything that happened with the Baron of the North. Baron Draxum was beyond furious that the filth and sorry excuse of a yokai laid hands on his little girl. After much explanation, they soon figured out that Donnie had begun treating Sil because of the burns on her arms. Draxum wanted to see Sil right away but Casey made some medical excuse as in to not interrupt the doctor. 

Donnie finally sat down with a huff, leaning back into his chair with exhaustion. A lot happened today. Too much in fact. The purple turtle watched the sleeping injured girl on the medical bed. Her vitals are doing fine and her body didn't sustain any major injuries. Just her hands. 

Donatello rubbed his face, "What the heck am I going to do." He peeked out from between his fingers, looking at Sil. No Dianne? Sil? The purple genius groaned, tilting his head back just as he felt a rush of warmth race to his face. Thinking of her real name in his head made him flush. He loved that feeling but hated it the same. Donatello didn't want to believe in destiny and things set in stone but it seemed that his future wife is now here right in front of his eyes.

Not that the others knew, except for Jones Jr. It's better his family does not find out about this right now. 

A knock drew Donnie's attention from the thief to the med door. Draxum asked silently if he could enter and Donnie allowed him to. Draxum walked to the other side of Dianne's bed and gently inspected her hands. "She's stable now. Didn't lose too much blood. She's healing well." Donnie offered a small amount of comfort. Draxum just nodded, "She's very hard-headed. Brave, intelligent though stupid sometimes driven by sentiment." Draxum let out a small genuine chuckle, "Still, she's a better person than I can ever be."

Donnie laughed lightly, "Yeah, she is," Draxum watched Donnie with keen eyes, especially at how the turtle seemed to grow softer near Sil's being and the fact that his eyes seemed to shine brighter when he was around her.

"Thank you for protecting Dianne." 

He heard it again. Her name. Donnie pretended not to know the name for he played false surprise and confusion. "Dianne?" 

Draxum nodded, "Dianne Rosette. That's her full name. Though please do not call her that. She rather reveals her name in her own time. If she knew I did mention her real name she'd have my head." 

Donnie blushed a little. Cute but mean, just his style. Damn her and damn time-traveling plot conveniences. Draxum patted the turtle's shoulders in a silent thanks before leaving the medbay. Draxum felt something emerging between the turtle and his niece, something good in nature. But the teens had a full day of extreme excitement and danger. He'll ask the turtle about Dianne at another time.

Donnie decided to call it a night after checking on a few more items on his list. Once satisfied, Donnie switched the night light on. He took one last look at ... at her face. Donatello made up his mind. He would pretend not to know Dianne's identity until she decided to tell him or maybe forever. 

He didn't believe in destiny. He didn't want destined love if it had to be forced. Donatello's bad-boy image began to surface, which was either good or bad. Definitely bad since Donnie already had some sort of hots for Dianne-no, Sil. He felt his heart twist. Donnie decided to pretend. Pretend that Dianne was still Sil. Pretend he did not know Dianne. 

His eyes trailed over the soft features of her face, admiring the way the lights gently bounced off her soft skin. For tonight, he bid her good rest without mentioning either of her names.

That was how Dianne Hamato entered his life in the future, it is how she will enter his even now.

Next

[borderlinebunnyboy]

Just thinking about hypersexuality, and about how it's gotten so extreme recently, how I can't seem to go a day without fixating on sex for at least a little while. It's driving me a little bit insane. Sometimes I say or think things about myself that I would have been disgusted by before.

It's so hard to parse whether this evolution in my sexuality is good or bad. Because on the one hand, when I was mostly celibate, that was not some kind of moral choice. I was suffering from trauma that made it physically hard to be touched. But on the other hand, am I so sexual because I'm free and untraumatized now, or is it because the way my trauma manifests has changed? Do I sexually subjugate myself to my partner because I want to, or because my traumatized brain feels like it needs to?

[fairweather-fangs]

"Hi... I'm F. For Ferrum. My real name is Feng, I'm not supposed to give that out though, but there's alot I give out that I'm not supposed to... Don't tell Roger."

Character details:

Letter: F

Code name: Ferrum

True name: Feng Lao(凤劳)

Age: 17

Birthdate: June 3rd

Home country: Taiwan

Orientation: Bisexual, Demi-romantic

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Bright neon, star gazing, getting high

Dislikes: Messy spaces, guns, working

Extra:Born into a lower middle class family in South Tiawan F lived a relatively comfortable life until his mother and father were shot and killed in a robbery at age 7. He jumped between foster homes for three years and lost four more sets of parents before being sent to an orphanage. He has a reputation as "F, the good times ruiner" for his generally rule abiding attitude but secretly his good temper and strict adherence to the rules are to remove suspension from his actual crimes: selling drugs booze and other illegal substance to the other kids.

Appearance:

Eye color: Dark brown

Hair: Black, chin length and slightly wavey

Skin tone: Copper

Height: 5'10 (178cm)

Weight: 160-170lbs (72-77kg)

Fashion sense: Comfortable, alternative but generally lowkey. Wears mostly black with occasional bright colored accessories (body harnesses are the most notable.)

Extra: Has several piercings on his face and ears but typically only wears earrings. Faded scars across most parts of his body, most from untraumatic incidents. Often wears color tinted glasses to hide how high he is.

(=rules under cut=)

About mun:

The man behind the muse is @artificial-ascension

That's my main personal blog and everything about me is in the pinned post. If you don't feel like going there:

I'm Michael

19

He/They

My other rp blog is @making-a-killing I made a separate blog for my other muse because I like theming my blogs

Activity:

I'm very active on Tumblr and try to be active here.

If I have alot of asks or RPs going on at once it may take a while to get to all of them, but trust me I do see everything.

I may get writers block for some things but I will try to get around to everything.

I'm very open about what I'm working on so if you have questions or concerns feel free to message me. If for whatever reason I will bot be responding to your ask/response I will inform you

I'm in the Eastern U.S. but may be active anywhere from 5am (my time) at the earliest to 3am at th latest. (I have a terrible sleep schedule) However I am mich less likely to be writing or responding super late or super early. I may also be late to things if I'm away from my phone because I do that sometimes

Basic:

F gives out his first name freely, his last name however would only be known to someone with shinigami eyes. Feel free to throw around the name for fun.

I don't mind most things, if you feel like you need permission to do something to F I almost certainly don't care

NSFW is very much allowed but I require you to be 18+ for sexual material. Otherwise go crazy.

Really just try and not speak for F. That's my job, also I may do so on my other rp blog, but most F will go here.

I don't like writing much... you wouldn't be able to tell because I'm quite long winded...

And also don't be a dick. I try to be friendly but I don't fuck with any sort of bigotry in or out of character. And don't be rude to me I'll block you. I came here to have fun.

Trigger warnings for: Drug use, drug trafficing, addiction (alcohol is included as a drug for the record)

Other trigger warnings will be tagged when they come up, however these themes are prevalent throughout the blog

Rules and warnings to be expanded upon as things come up. I'm new here.

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 33- Trust

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

Hawks is neither dumb nor oblivious. He knows that he is not okay after learning about Endeavor. He knows that it isn’t normal to feel nauseous at the thought of using his quirk. But he also knows that you’re excited for this stupid gala tonight. So even though the very thought of seeing members of the HPSC or Endeavor fills him with quiet, fervent anger, he is determined to take you and make sure you have a good night. Mina had arrived an hour ago with a garment bag and a backpack stocked with makeup and hair products and immediately dragged you into your room to start getting ready. Even from outside he can hear the two of you laughing. So no, he is not in denial about his emotional well-being. He is well aware that he needs to shake off the anger, disgust, and heartache that’s clung to his spine since that night on the balcony. But the sound of your laughter and the sight of your smile makes him forget everything else, even if only for a moment, so if enduring one of the least heroic parts of hero work is what it takes to keep you happy then he’ll do it.

It’s almost time to leave. Hawks wears a crisp black suit with a black shirt underneath. The designer had also given him a red tie to wear but the night would be suffocating enough without a fancy noose around his neck as well, so he’d decided to skip it and leave the top few buttons of his shirt undone instead. He followed Bakugo’s advice and had run out to get flowers while you changed. Now he stands nervously clutching them in one hand while he waits for you to finally emerge.

Mina slips out first, excitement evident in her black and yellow eyes. “You’re gonna flip when you see her,” she whispers to him conspiratorially before clearing her throat and standing up tall. “Now presenting, the breathtaking and stunningly gorgeous (y/n) (y/l/n), as styled by Mina Ashido and Momo Yaoyorozu,” Mina announces with a flourish before throwing open the doors to reveal you standing on the other side. He would like to say something witty and charming but all of Hawks’ smooth charisma seems to have abandoned him, leaving only Keigo staring at the person he loves in all her beauty in a red dress that perfectly matches his feathers. “Told you,” Mina sing songs with a laugh and you think you would pay admission to see Keigo blush the way he currently is again. “These are for you,” he finally says, offering up the beautiful blooms. “Thank you, they’re perfect,” you grin as you take them and Mina is quick to take them off your hands to put them in some water. “You kids have fun! I’ll lock things up here,” Mina assures you before shooing you and Hawks out your apartment.

“Shall we?” Hawks asks as he offers you his arm. You get a flashback to that first date and part of you wonders what would’ve happened had you not bared your soul to him that night. When you look in his eyes though, and see the genuine affection in his golden gaze, you find that you truly wouldn’t change a thing as long as you could still end up right back in this moment. “We shall,” you grin, as you take his arm and he leads you down the stairs and out the door.

You blink in surprise as you lay eyes on a long black limousine. “You got a limo?” you ask incredulously. “Of course, it’s too far to walk and you deserve to roll up to your first red carpet in style,” he winks as he opens the door and helps you in. “Honestly I thought you might fly us there,” you admit. You notice the way Hawks tenses up for just a moment but when he slides in next to you he’s all smiles. “And let the wind ruin all of Mina’s hard work? She’d kill me,” he replies smoothly. You decide to drop it, after all if your suspicions about why he’s so hesitant to use his quirk are correct, then the last thing he needs is to dredge up those feelings right before seeing the very people at the center of them.

Pulling up to the red carpet is odd for a variety of reasons. For starters the idea of walking a red carpet with reporters who you can already hear clamoring outside is surreal in and of itself. But also it’s odd because for the past week or so since your kidnapping you’d been getting to see Keigo without filter. But as he turns to you and asks “You ready little techie?” you can almost physically see him rebuilding his walls. He gives your hand a quick squeeze and you think maybe, just maybe, he’s still left a door in the wall for you. So you take a deep breath to relieve your nerves, meet his eyes, and then you tell him “I’m ready.”

The flashing cameras are overwhelming at first but Hawks finds your hand and quickly squeezes it, immediately grounding you. He lets go just as quickly, after all he had promised you this was strictly platonic and the press would surely latch onto any sign of affection as proof of a relationship. He’s pleasantly surprised to feel you take back his hand and intertwine your fingers. He needs the grounding too. He turns to you and you both share a private smile before he slides back on the infectious grin that all of Japan knows him by. Reporters are shouting his name left and right as he leads you towards the entrance. “Hawks! Hawks! Who’s your date this evening?” “Hawks! Are the rumors true about your Twitter fling?” “Hawks! Over here! When will you be returning to hero work?”

Finally you enter into the building and both of you breathe out a sigh of relief as you finally put the reporters behind you. “You said there’s free booze here?” you ask slightly out of breath as your heart returns to its normal cadence. “That there is,” Hawks replies before smiling and pulling you to the elevators up to the banquet hall by your still intertwined hands.

Several tables are set up around the hall and there’s a stage where presumably there will be a few speakers once everyone gets more settled and has had some time to mingle. The two of you spot Mirko in a purple jumpsuit standing with a dark haired woman with wolf ears dressed in a black gown. “C’mon let me introduce you,” Hawks encourages as he leads you to their table. “You already know Mirko, this is her lovely girlfriend Olivia. Olivia meet (y/n),” he introduces. “So you’re the infamous (y/n). I see what all the hype is about,” she says as she gives you an appraising look. “Oh infamous, huh?” you ask already smirking. “Oh yea. Can’t tell you how many times this one has whined to me about Hawks pining over you,” Olivia laughs, revealing her sharp canines in the process as she pulls Mirko in tight to her. “I do not whine!” Mirko says with a roll of her eyes while Hawks protests “I wasn’t pining!” You laugh as both women give him a skeptical look. “Ok if I’m going to be attacked this way I’m going to need a drink,” Hawks sighs, “want one?” “Sure I’ll take-“ “White wine work?” he cuts you off. “You talked to Katsuki,” you laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Dove,” he grins walking backwards away from you before finally turning to head to the bar.

“Two glasses of white wine,” Hawks asks of the bartender. “Put it on my tab,” a gruff voice says coming up behind him. Hawks feels his entire body stiffen. “It’s an open bar Endeavor, there are no tabs,” Hawks says without turning to look at his former hero. “Hawks we need to talk,” Endeavor insists. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.” “I am trying to do better.” “That’s great and all but it doesn’t untraumatize your kids. If you weren’t a high ranking hero you’d be rotting in a cell right now.” “You cannot tell anyone. The fate of hero society-“ “You think I don’t know that? I’m not an idiot.” “I never said you were.” “Then don’t lecture me old man.” “I have saved so many lives. And thanks to my training so has Shoto.”

Hawks whips around to stare at the man he once idolized and is shocked to see Endeavor genuinely believes what he says is true. As if his hero work somehow undoes his crimes. “First of all, Shoto is a great hero in spite of, not because of you. Second of all, if you really want to take credit for the lives he’s saved then you also have to bear the responsibility for the lives Dabi has taken. How many is he up to now? 30 something? Not counting the death toll from Kamino Ward,” Hawks bites out, his wings expanding instinctively to make himself larger in front of the other man. “You know my father never laid a hand on me. No he was neglectful and cruel in other ways but never physically abusive. I once wished you were my father instead. Now I know I would’ve just been trading one monster for another.” “Hawks I-“

“There you are! I was wondering what was taking so long,” you interject as you slide between Hawks and Endeavor, facing your date. “Ease up a little bird brain, it’s ok,” you whisper in as calming a voice as possible. Hawks hadn’t even realized how worked up he was getting until you intervened, but he’s grateful now that you’re here to ground him. You spin around to address the number one hero directly. You should probably be scared, or at the very least nervous, but instead you stand up tall, chin raised defiantly, and bring your quirk to the surface just enough for your eyes to glow as you make eye contact with the man in front of you. “I don’t care what the rankings say, Hawks is a better hero than you’ll ever be,” you declare unflinchingly. Endeavor opens his mouth to respond but you continue before he can, “I think it’s best you leave him alone now. We have an evening to enjoy.” With that you grab Hawks’ hand and spin on your heel before marching off.

As you’re walking back to the table where Olivia and Mirko are waiting, the lights dim and one of the members of the HPSC takes to the stage. It only takes one quick glance at Hawks’ face to confirm this is the last thing he needs to sit and listen to right now. So you bypass the table entirely and keep moving. “Where are we going?” he asks as you drag him to the first emergency stairwell you spot. “The roof. It can’t be that many more flights up and you look like you could use some fresh air,” you explain.

It takes four more flights of stairs for the two of you to reach the roof and you’d had to pick the door lock to get out, but it’s worth it for the view. Lights twinkle in all directions as the entire city stretches out before the two of you. “It’s beautiful,” you gasp as you take it all in. “It is,” Keigo confirms, although there’s a sadness in his voice. He sits down on the concrete and stares out across the view and so you take a seat beside him. “What’s up?” you ask gently. It breaks your heart to see the way he merely shakes his head with watery eyes. “It’s just me Kei. The roof isn’t even supposed to be accesible, no one is gonna bother us up here. What’s wrong?” you insist. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to outrun my father and be something better. Only to find out that something better was the same thing in prettier packaging,” he admits. “You are nothing like Endeavor. I meant what I said inside.” “I want to believe you but how can I when that’s the model I’ve been striving for since I was a kid?”

You stop and think for a moment as you try to figure out how exactly to word this. “Remind me who was it that called out Endeavor for being number one hero and yet ranking considerably lower than you in popularity polls? It was right after All Might retired,” you respond. Keigo rolls his eyes, “It was me but-“ “That doesn’t sound like something a dedicated disciple of Endeavor would do to me. You’ve always been able to acknowledge the flaws in the system. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit and I’m sure if you asked any of the heroes here tonight they’d agree. I would trust you with my life Kei. I’m serious,” you insist. “Fine, fine. You’re so dramatic,” Keigo laughs but you know him well enough to know when he’s deflecting.

You rise up from your position and casually move towards the edge of the roof, keeping your eyes trained on the city. “You really are an incredible hero,” you say into the chilly night. “So you keep saying,” Keigo laughs ruefully behind you. “Hey Keigo?” you ask as you step onto the edge of the roof and turn back to face him. “What?”

“Think fast.”

You step backwards and then you’re falling.

Author’s Note: First before I forget, shoutout to @oliviasslut for letting me use her oc Olivia for Mirko’s girlfriend. I was low key stuck on that so letting me swipe your oc was a huge help. Anyway, THIS GOT SO FAR AWAY FROM ME WOW. I didn’t think this would be where I ended the chapter but it felt right and opens the next part up for more details which hopefully will be a good thing lmao. I will mostly likely be releasing a SFW and NSFW version of the next part, hopefully I don’t fall behind schedule and can continue the daily updates through to the end 😅 we’re in the home stretch guys.

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp

[lamiralami]

TMA Retro 2: Do Not Open

It’s really too bad that today’s episode doesn’t deal with the Desolation, haze from the Queensland bushfires has made everything smell like a campfire. The pathetic fallacy that could have been! Oh well.

Sit down, relax, and rest your feet on your coffin table, it’s MAG 2: Do Not Open

Here we go! The man, the myth, the legend! It’s Coffin Table guy! Mr. Bowl of Ice himself!

the narrative is trying to ease us into the spooky by having “John” suddenly appear at the cafe table and be generally odd and indescribable, ooh pretty scary - except by his own admission our boy Joshua has been sat in this cafe in Amsterdam for several hours and no longer recognises the linear flow of time. or knows what his hands do.

“The man introduced himself as John, and asked how I was. I replied as best I could, and he nodded, saying he also was an Englishman inside a foreign land.” I am DYING picturing this guy trying the whole spiel with this uni grad who’s been high for two straight weeks at this point.

John: Oh Hullo, A Fellow Traveler. Well Met!

the twitching sweaty mess across from him: fkool. Yrrs? mmam Nglsssh.

John: Ah, A Fellow Englishman! Perhaps We Could Do Business Together.

guess supernatural verbal contracts remain binding no matter how blasted you are on dank kush

our boy Joshua claims the encounter cast a pall over the rest of his trip, but also notes he doesn’t remember most of that time and was still high when he got back to England. glad he didn’t let his eldritch freelance contract interfere with what really matters: blazing it.

(I’m going to assume Joshua is high at all times going forward unless otherwise indicated)

Joshua doesn’t even launder the money before spending it, just waits a year. also thinks the beard he grew renders him unrecognisable. Bad Joshua! you’re supposed to be the smart one!

I think his reaction to the coffin delivery is quite realistic - namely, freaking the fuck out for a solid day, remaining jumpy and nervous for a week or so, then getting used to it. that’s just how the human brain does

the coffin would prefer if you used a coaster.

“I decided against doing any further experiments, and instead made the very deliberate decision to ignore it. I felt at that point I either needed to use the heavy iron key to open it and see for myself what was in there, or follow the gouged instruction and resolve myself to never look inside. Some might call me a coward, but I decided on the latter, that I would interact with it as little as possible while it lived in my house.” this is a callout post for Jon.

no but really, this whole statement serves as something of a - warning? foreshadowing? Jon even notes that it takes place in his hometown. Did you notice, Jon, how Joshua Gillespie didn’t indulge his curiosity about supernatural objects and as a direct result emerged from this encounter alive and relatively untraumatized? Did you mark down how he doesn’t do further investigation no matter how tantalizing and mysterious the coffin gets? ARE YOU LISTENING JON? (I know you’re not listening. I know.)

the whole sequence where the coffin starts to sing on a dark and gloomy day is wonderfully atmospheric. you really feel how wigged out yet helplessly resigned he is.

this is where Joshua comes out swinging with the intelligence modifier. turning up music to drown out the singing! encasing the key in ice so the cold shocks him out of his suicidal trance! that’s our boy!

(Oh hey, Jon, prolonged exposure to spookiness changing your sleeping habits and trying to cause harm! Look at that Jon! I know you’re not looking.)

“It’s funny how fear can just become as routine as hunger” - such finely aged foreshadowing

Joshua loses some points for getting shouty at the crew when they come to collect. surely that can wait until after the scary men who know your name and where you live and who retain ownership of a nightmare box are out of your flat. stick the landing Josh!

also negative points for breaking the bowl. you could have just run some hot water over the back until the ice popped out. bowls aren’t free.

the perfect cherry on top of this sundae of a statement is picturing the looks on the faces of John and Breckon & Hope as they stand in the entry of the flat. John must have thought he found the easiest mark of all time in some pot-addled recent graduate. and ninety nine times out of a hundred he would’ve been right. he managed to pick the one stoned English tourist in Amsterdam with a maxed critical thinking stat. bad luck, John. now get in the coffin.

so we’ve definitely got the Stranger and the Buried here, but a case could be made for the Lonely lurking nearby. the coffin’s presence keeps Joshua from making connections in a new town and at a new job, and he is in fact alone in the entire building

one does wonder if Gertrude ever thought to recruit Joshua Gillepsie as an archival assistant. he’s clearly got good instincts when it comes to dealing with the supernatural.

(certainly the Archives in its present incarnation could do with an infusion of his brand of common sense.)

but then, survival instincts weren’t exactly what Gertrude looked for in an assistant.

or maybe after Elias, Gertrude had had enough of people who indulge in the devil’s lettuce. we may never know.

(Oi! Jon! You know what other “eerie story” that happened “nearly twenty years ago” in Bournemouth also had a “lack of corroborating witnesses”? Do you know?)

(Why do I even bother.)

[motherboxing]

rape tw

SPEAKING OF therapy it has been important for me lately to not only grieve what I lost to the actual abuse and sexual violence I experienced at the times that it happened, but to grieve and be angry about how deeply this has affected me and how deeply I was failed by a lot of people, institutions, etc. 

Here’s the thing! Traumatized people are sometimes difficult. Traumatized people show up late to appointments sometimes. Traumatized people can’t always go to every class. Traumatized people sometimes miss deadlines. Traumatized people freak out about things that sometimes seem incomprehensible to others. Traumatized people can be angry in ways that are hard for untraumatized people to relate to. Traumatized people cry for no reason sometimes. Traumatized people overshare, or they withhold information that might be important because they don’t feel safe, or they do both of those things at different times, sometimes. Some people, certainly, are just unreliable flakes, but the difficulty in terms of just basic day-to-day functioning that trauma causes is real. It’s a giant fucking weight tied around your neck and you just kind of have to learn to work around it, and you literally just cannot expect most people to understand that that’s what you’re doing!

I have a really hard time extending compassion for myself. I often feel like I am LETTING my trauma MAKE me inconsistent, needy, overly dramatic, a bitch. I have been told directly the following things, many times: being raped is no excuse. It wasn’t even really that bad, you just can’t deal with some minor hardship so you call it being ‘traumatized’. You’re just making excuses. You’re just trying to avoid taking responsibility for things. It doesn’t matter. It SHOULDN’T matter. Some of these things were said to me by people who were being super abusive to me at the time! Some of these things were just said to me by garden-variety assholes. The message that the world at large sends to victims of abuse and rape is this: it was your fault, if it even happened at all, and now you’re ruined, and being ruined is also your fault because you’re a weak piece of shit.

Collectively, as a society, we do nothing to help rehabilitate victims of abuse and rape. I want to say that again: Collectively we do NOTHING TO HELP REHABILITATE VICTIMS OF ABUSE AND RAPE. Even in Canada, where I can go to a doctor for free, therapy still costs money, and can be hard to access. Systems that do exist to provide some conditional support for victims are byzantine and dehumanizing, violating in and of themselves. Rather than try to help victims heal, we punish them for being hurt. You want to talk about rehabilitation and sexual violence and the criminal justice system? Let’s talk about what percentage of incarcerated women have been victims of sexual assault. I want you to reframe your whole approach here, away from the assumption that specifically in cases of sexual violence, the perpetrator is the one who is criminalized and the victim is supported by the criminal justice system. Do you think victims of sexual violence are NOT criminalized? If so you are wrong. Trauma, especially complex trauma, exacerbates poverty. Conditions of poverty cause a lot of shit that gets people locked up. Abusers weaponize the criminal justice system against their victims all the time. This is not abstract. The ways that we punish and exploit victims even as we deny their (our) trauma are systemic, they are institutionalized, and they have a body count.

This is a heavy thing to realize, when you’ve been raped. That on a systemic level, the world does not care. That people can and will try to destroy you - not just physically, but on the very level of your soul, they will violate you and leave you with a howling emptiness inside you that will consume you alive and by and large, people really just kind of want you to shut up about it and go away. Even the people who love you will do this, sometimes! But beyond that, the world does it. You can watch a man who raped a thirteen year old child become the president of the united states, and people will yell at you for having to cancel a coffee date because you couldn’t get out of bed.

Some people think that one of the biggest predictors for if a person develops PTSD after a traumatic event is what kind of support they get afterwards, if the people around them acknowledge what has happened and actively try to help them deal with it. It’s not just rapists who cause PTSD. We all do it. We do it through neglect. Through punishment. That is violence. It is abuse.

I struggle with explaining this, because it feels so big to me. But it is a grief and a sadness that I’ve been processing, lately. I want to do something productive with it that will help someone, somehow. I don’t know what that is yet, but when I figure it out, I hope it’s good.

[originallylacey]

Volando

I stayed after

To reap some petty laughter

To try and look into his face

And talk about things

Anything

Just not what

We already do

When I get to

Be with you

See you

And even still I can’t bring my eyes up to look at you

But at those times I send messages with my glances

Hoping that maybe he’ll understand my advances

I get bits and pieces

Of vivacious conversation

During a time

And in a place

Where I can’t explore further

And I can’t look him in the face

When I treat this circumstance

So eagerly and feebly

I know that I run risks

And yet my impulsivity leads me

So I flick my fingers across my phone

Typing a message that is not condoned

Hoping to see his face

Seeking time with him to be alone

Nothing crass or vulgar

Just some time with someone older

Who is passionate about things like me

Who has already lived what I have yet to

And perhaps never will

To try and find his eyes with mine

And yet I am frozen still

He is interesting

But not the kind I like

Personality wise

Yet his maturity, patience , and kind eyes

Peeking through a quite infant professional disguise

Is enough to make me wonder

If he ever ponders

Me

If I ever come up

If he struggles to find my eyes

If I am ever a recurring guest in his mosaic mind

I think of blocks and squares of colors

A Rubik’s cube or abstract design

Perhaps it is because

It is organized and yet not quite put together

In a sense

Not quite fitting in one line

A curious thing to consider

An activity to decipher

And a patient work, more or less

And though he says

his room is a bit of a mess

he is already grown

And he has much of himself together

And a past completely his own

It’s hard to read

I struggle to see

That which in others I often do

But when I find

His kind eyes

He seems to have been left untraumatized

I think of red black and blue

Some red and whites

Common colors

And surfaces smooth and white

Glass panels clear as day

And

Anyway..,

He conducts himself with patience

And he is trying to find

Success in this mess

Featuring a diamond mind

He says he likes when it shines

In the middle of blank disarray

And yet he is sure

That the word’s of hers

Are valuable enough

To be shared

Often and without care

And insists that he will do things his way

I’m left with nothing more to say

He stands idly with a inexperienced stern look

But he behaves in a way

That makes him unquestionably authority

A relaxed , easy going, fun guy

All at the same time

But his laugh is a sign

That he is either developing or fine

With being one

Who doesn’t stun

A lecture with a stone cold hand

And black brown eyes

When I find them

They are smiling too

And they are brown and kind

Both harsh at times

And at times I find them

Paired with a cheery face

And a nice smile

Telling me

That he

Is practically

Right where he wants to be

He appears as though he is currently trying to figure where he is going

And seems to be confident in not only this

But where he has been

He appears to be at an equilibrium

Where his past is in place

He may not know quite where he is going

But he knows from where he came

You can see it on his face

And hear it in his voice

His assurance and premature authoritative ways

I like him because of this

He is working through a maze

But it is not one of branches and poison ivy

But instead one of smooth marble and stone

Not perfect

Definitely not no

But he seems free from his past

At ease and content with

The years that he has passed

He seems like he may soar at any moment

Spreading his wings

A world to explore

And nothing more

He seems collected

And yet In no way

Made of perfections

He is wary and learning

And will continue to grow old

His young years now

Are clasped tight by a new career

And who am I to try to snatch him

From this unfamiliar and imperative year?

Who am I to move my hair

So he can see my face

If he should be looking there

And who am I to be

A naïve teen of relative maturity

Who poses a threat

To the his practice and his safety net ?

I wish I knew

And yet I try to find his eyes with mine

When I sit swinging on a desk

In a simple cream dress

Telling of hard times and a diamond mind

Crying every few minutes or so

Hoping that afterwards I’ll feel fine

He wants to help

I know he does

He doesn’t know how

I’d say a hug

He asks me once or twice

If he can help in anyway

But I keep my mouth shut

And act coy as if i were to blush

And laugh loudly and say no

And wonder when I’ll go home

He keeps his distance

And I wish he didn’t

But I know that he

Doesn’t see

Me in a way

Where he would up and throw his morals and security away

And of course ; he should not.

I wouldn’t want him to

And yet I do

I do

I know i do

What else am I to do ?

I fight to keep my eyes on his face

And I look at the silvery black hair framing his face

And I wonder if he is greying

I think it is sweet

He has a whole life behind him

And now we meet

probably closer to insignificant

Then I’d like to think

But he is getting older

And he recalls some memories too

I turn around while stiffly pacing

And find myself looking at the playground and hill

Where she and I laid

Where we would feel comfortable and safe

Happy and truly befriended

and I think now of the wilted and fuzzy daisy

She gave me

Not long ago

But in an era of our story

Where she did not

Hesitate to know

Who I was and where we had been

And now I see that playground and I tell him

Life keeps moving

And here I am

Talking to him

Thinking about brushing my fingers across his hand

His hair greying and the daisy decaying

Time has passed and we recall it fast

But time that has yet to tell

Is presenting itself quite fast as well