#it's just so...... so............. explodes into a thousand million pieces

[t4tbedehopmar]

hello tumblr *flops over and dies*

[thawthebeez]

kagehina kinda brain day ..!

[beemo-clippin]

A compilation of Etho reacting to his 2011 1k subscriber special.

Clipped from the 1 million sub special, "Etho Plays Minecraft - Episode 283: 1 Million!" (starting at 28:40)

Feedback:

This was my first time doing captioning so please do let me know if there’s anything that can be improved! Even if it’s style-wize bc I’m bad at that stuff.

And as always, let me know if I can improve my video descriptions or transcriptions :)

Video description and transcription below cut:

Video description:

Etho's first-person POV in his 2011 Minecraft Let's Play world. It is night and Etho is on a beach as he introduces the video as well as a celebratory tree sapling placed near the water. The video is a screen recording, and 2013 Etho commentates over it, but is unseen.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is nighttime and Etho places a torch on a path of dirt blocks, lighting the area. The dirt blocks connect to the top of the tree, now grown, with a mob trap on top (a pressure plate surrounded by 4 doors). Etho walks through the trap and down some dirt steps. He walks around the dim-lit beach as older Etho laughs at him.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is day now and Etho is on top of the tree, trying to lead a creeper into the mob trap. He breaks the door closest to the creeper, the creeper jumps and Etho backs away. The creeper explodes, bringing Etho to three and a half hearts, and destroying the top of the tree. As older Etho reacts in amusement, young Etho looks at the tree in shock, opens his inventory, drops a dirt block, and jumps down to the beach. A zombie floats in the water, and Etho tries to attack it with his sword, but is killed by the zombie.

———

Cut to a new clip in the same setting. It is day and Etho stands on the beach looking at the tree. The leaves have been reconstructed with wool and the entire thing is on fire. Etho jumps around as he watches the wool burn away. A piece of TNT is revealed in the center of the tree, and when lit by the fire, it explodes in a flurry of white and black particles, taking a chunk of the beach with it. Etho walks over and looks down at the destruction as older Etho pauses the video in amusement.

———

Transcription:

Young Etho: Hello everyone. Etho here again with episode nine of our Let's Play minecraft adventures

Etho: Ah, the voice is so different

Young Etho: And uh, before we can do anything this episode... I noticed, I just passed one thousand subscribers on YouTube

Etho: Oh, don't rub your nose

Young Etho: A thousand!

Etho: Woww

Young Etho: I'm blown away

Etho: Me too!

Young Etho: Over a thousand people willingly choose to watch me do crazy, stupid stuff in this game

Etho: *chuckles*

Young Etho: And I think that is just awesome

Etho: I don't know how you did it

Young Etho: So thanks to everybody who's- who is subscribing. And uh, please continue watching. We'll have lots of fun together.

Etho: Mhmm

Young Etho: And, uh, to celebrate the event, I planted this tree

Etho: *laughs*

Young Etho: to commoderate [commemorate] it

Etho: Alright

Young Etho: And...

Etho: Here it comes

Young Etho: It's gonna be a great tree ^-^

Etho: *laughs loudly* Needed a long pause there for emphasis

———

Etho: Yes! And a torch, he placed a torch! *laughs* I love how it's pitch black and you can't see anything.

Young Etho: Okay. So this is where the guest of honor's gonna sit.

Etho: And you've got an inventory full of torches and you're not using them. *laughs*

Young Etho: I really wish we got a better tree out of this, but whatever

Etho: I wish we could see

———

Etho: *laughs loudly* Aww special ruined. I- I was so, so sad. I didn't know what to do. What do I do now?

I- I'm not talking at all. It's just like... I failed. I failed. *laughs*

———

Young Etho: Awesome!!!

Etho: *laughs* Having the time of my life here. And a piece of TNT goes off. *laughs* And that was my special

Young Etho: Party's over, time to clean up

Etho: Aww, so good. *laughs* So good. How things have changed!

———

[suempu]

tw: nonconsensual kissing. graphic wording.

"you look lonely."

ivan sighs while you situate yourself on the sofa beside him. his room is pitch dark, save for the light from the tv broadcast.

mindless advertisements and commercials mix and buzz into the air, creating a fog of background noise. and you wonder whose poor soul is getting killed on that stage at this very moment.

you spread your arm and dramatically bring him into a side hug. "nothing a bit of booze won't fix. ha ha ha!!" exclaiming with the vigor of an alcoholic, ivan can only groan in frustration.

"i'm not getting wasted with you." his eyes look worn down, mouth wrinkling into a frown as he tries to hide the agony behind a stone cold face.

a part of him is comforted by your presence, a sense of normality washes over him. as if you two were still children playing across the fake fields and staring at the equally as fake sky, laughing as you tackled each other to the ground and picked flowers.

"too late, i brought the good shit." you snicker as you bring out weird looking bottles. you're not exactly sure how safe these are for humans but the aliens seem to love it so, who cares? "this was hard to steal by the way, i got it from those private rooms."

ivan stares at you for a moment and eventually rests his head on your shoulder. he looks at you, cold ice wall melting down and you're met with the sight of absolute pain and distress on his pretty face when he sighs.

"why does it have to feel like this?" he whispers, voice cracking from the amount of vocal training and warmups he's been forced to endure that day.

you take a deep breath and open a bottle, careful with your movements as his heavy head rested on your arm. "what? wanna runaway? you know i wouldn't hesitate if you asked." chuckling as you tried reading the labels.

ivan knows though. you're the closest thing he's got to a friend. you'd do anything for him and with him. and of course he'd do the same but... you're not the person he holds nearest to his heart.

"it's funny," he watches as you sniff the alcoholic aroma before taking a sip. "no matter how much they make us do these—things, no matter how much it hurts... why is this thing in my chest more painful?"

your face falls blank, glaring at the bottle before taking a big chug. you hope it'll get rid of your own pain, wash away all the emotions and feelings of him.

and its funny. because what kind of weird fucking love hexagon is this?

you despise till.

you wish you could tear his bones out and wear his skin, take out his tongue and say all the things ivan has always wanted to hear and keep his heart for your own.

"i wish i knew the answer to that."

looking down at him and seeing his exhausted face, makes your heart break. you want to gather yours and his shattered pieces and construct a deformed statue of love and just hope it'll be enough for him. enough to replace the burning loneliness he's been forced to go through.

but no. even if he were to love you, it'd take a million years to pass, thousands of stars to die, and hundreds of planets to explode until then.

you bump your forehead into his and watch as his eyes widen. smirking to yourself, you think, what more could i lose?

"let's be lonely together then. just this once."

you whisper before kissing him.

[ropes3amthoughts]

I’m going insane right now. I can’t stop thinking about Kabru and I can’t express my feelings well enough in any amount of words or pictures or emojis or anything. I want to analyze every single moment of his, every single thing he says and does, but it wouldn’t be enough. There is no way I could ever convey everything I think about him.

I’m going so fucking nuts right now you guys. He makes me want to stim and pull my hair out and walk in circles and kick my legs and giggle and bite my hands and twirl my hair and write one million words about him and draw a million drawings of him and paint him like a holy medieval oil painting and talk about him to anybody who listens and throw up and write his name all over my skin and save ten thousand pictures of him to my phone and carve his face into a rock and cry and just everything he makes me feel almost everything I could possibly feel it’s so overwhelming I’m not normal about him at all and I need to say something about him I feel like I’m going to explode he drives me crazy I love him deeply

He’s like a bug to me I want to put him in a little glass jar and feed him pieces of vegetables and berries and maybe little bits of my own meals and observe him closely and take little notes in my notepad about his habits and food preferences and I’d have a little light focused on him so I can watch him closely but turn it off at night time so he can sleep and then I’d take him out of the jar and set him on my counter and I’d tell him sit still while I open up a sketchbook and draw him with the fervor of a religious artist who’s seen the face of a god or a scientist who’s been ignored for the past twenty years and has discovered an entirely new species and is thinking this is the chance to finally prove themselves and I would sketch away like my life depends on it and I would fill every single page with his face and his whole body and every bit of how he looks and then eventually my hands would cramp up so bad I’d have to stop and I’d set the sketchbook down next to my notepad and together it would have every single detail to him as if it were a scan from his mind

Can we please talk about Kabru more? Can we please talk about every single one of his scenes? Can we please talk about his motivations? His goals? The way he sees others? The way he sees himself? Can we talk about the scene where he kills those corpse guys from a deep analytical view other than “wow he’s crazy he killed those guys” because it’s much more complex than that and he killed them because he saw them as bad people who were unforgivable and deserving of death and then right after he said his party couldn’t steal their money despite the fact the corpse guys stole from them first and he’s not a “two rights make a wrong” type of guy or a revenge seeker and he is instead a “justice must be achieved no matter what” type of guy? Because he’s determined to reach his goals no matter what, like with eating the harpy eggs? Can we talk about how he thinks bad people deserve to die and how at one point he thinks he deserves to die? Can we talk about how it seems like he’s a people pleaser because he does anything to get people to like him, but it’s not because he wants people to like him, it’s because he wants to use those people to further his goals, but he doesn’t have sinister goals, and by using others, he hopes to reach his goal of helping humanity? Can we talk about the fact he uses himself as a tool to use others to help others? Can we talk about how he is not very good at connecting with others or himself deeply? Sure he can talk to others and convince them of things, but he has a mask, he hardly lets the true him slip, he hardly lets himself be truly known. Can we talk about how Kabru clearly has not allowed himself to process his grief and trauma from Utaya but still throws himself into the dungeon and faces monsters constantly because he wants to help humanity and he sees himself as expendable when it comes to benefiting humanity and how it clearly fucks him up but he shoves it down and ignores it because he thinks there are more important things to worry about than himself? Can we talk about how Kabru’s ambitious goals are a means to cope with his survivor’s guilt and how he thinks the only reason he survived the Utaya tragedy was so he could protect humanity from anything like that from happening again, how it’s a way to try and justify why he deserved to live, when it seems clear he doesn’t think he deserves it? Eating is the privilege of the living, but Kabru is rarely shown eating, often forgetting to eat or eating things he finds gross. Maybe he doesn’t think he deserves that privilege, like he doesn’t think he deserves life. Maybe eating is something that keeps him alive, but it’s often disappointing and something he wants to avoid. He cares so little for himself! There’s his messy room, his disregard for his own feelings, his lack of eating, him drinking to deal with insomnia, etc. but when it comes to others he cares so deeply. He’s so selfless! He doesn’t care for himself and he loves humanity deeply! He has so many different things he wants to do! The story literally couldn’t have happened without his actions. He’s such an interesting guy!

I know it’s fun to put him in little fanon situations and people have probably analyzed all there is to analyze but could we talk about it again even if we aren’t professional analyzers and it’s all been done before just because it’s interesting and fun and he’s such a neat guy and it’s fun to talk about him at least for me when I talk about him it makes my heart start racing and my throat get tight like I can’t breathe and I start stimming and feeling giddy and it doesn’t have to be that way for you but can we talk about him even if it’s something as simple and surface level as “Kabru cool 👍” I know a lot of the anime onlys don’t know that much about him and are missing so much of his character and his arc and his backstory and all that so it’s hard to talk about him but I’m sure at least one other person has read the manga and is like “wow! I love this Kabru guy!” Because that’s how I feel except it’s more like “I love this Kabru guy so much I feel like my head is about to fucking explode” so maybe could we please talk about him more maybe draw him more maybe write about him more maybe he could get some neat little focuses here and there maybe he could have a nice time in fanart and fanfic and maybe someone could say something really cool about him maybe someone could hit me up as an anon and be like “I really like when Kabru did this” and I could be like “HOLY SHIT YES THANK YOU FOR SAYING THIS ANON I LOVE YOU YES” that could be us for real

I feel like I’m gonna start shaking and throw up I love him so much do any of you guys get me I feel like pulling off my skin I think about him like 1-17 times every hour he is on my mind I was eating dinner and I was so distracted because I was thinking about the scene where the dungeon could’ve been conquered by the Canaries but Kabru doesn’t want one race to hold all the power so he holds Mithrun hostage and demands answers and when they don’t answer him he states that short lived races will conquer the dungeon and then he falls into the hole holding onto Mithrun fully prepared to kill the both of them if it meant Laios could conquer the dungeon and the island could be controlled by short lived races because he thinks that would be better for humanity the dungeon could’ve been conquered and sealed off right then and there and Kabru wanted the dungeon sealed off he wanted the monsters gone but he wanted more than that he wants power divided up between the races he wants short lived races to be taken seriously he thinks it’s impossible for them to see eye to eye but he wants short lived races to have some power he wants it to better humanity over all he doesn’t want to do what’s easy he wants to do what he thinks is right and he is willing to do a lot in order to achieve that he’s so ambitious but it works for him and he’s so dedicated to his goals and does he even know himself because he almost brushed it off at first I kept thinking about the “wait, am I really ok with this?” Line because like he wasn’t ok with that and he did something so drastic in order to stop it but I think it’s peculiar the way he thinks to himself the way he doesn’t quite know what he wants like he thinks he doesn’t want to eat monster food but then he does and he wants to do good for humanity but what does he even want to do for himself? And I always think about the “What was the purpose in me surviving Utaya?” Or whatever he said I’m not looking up the specific panel I’m on a ramble I’m not stopping for anything this is like a fucking train there are no sudden brakes I’m typing without stopping or editing or anything this is non stop. Does he not see himself as anything other than a means to better humanity? Something to be sacrificed if it’s for the greater good? Post-canon he goes on to study under Yaad and be Laios’ advisor and be Prime Minister but it’s all helping people he’s making decisions to help Melini and his friends and what’s good for people but what does Kabru want to do? Thinking about how Izutsumi goes around asking people what they are going to do and they all have different plans for the future but they decide that right then they’ll be enjoying a nice meal with each other. Has Kabru ever slowed down and thought he wanted to enjoy a meal with his friends? Sure he has meals with others, but it seems like he only has them because he has to eat because he needs it to live or because he’s trying to get Laios to like him so he can figure out what his deal is or because his friends are being held hostage or because he wants to help Laios with the Faligon feast and it’s all out of necessity or for other people. Does he ever sit down and think he WANTS to enjoy a meal with the people he cares about? Does he ever think he’s done so much good for humanity and maybe he can let himself be selfish for maybe an afternoon and eat a nice meal he likes with people he cares about? Miss Ryoko Kui please please can Kabru enjoy a nice meal with people he cares about and it’s because he wants to 🙏 can it be like an extra comic or something on the side please pleaseeeee pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewe In the post canon Laios was playing in some random field with kids and Falin and Marcille were there in the background with a picnic basket because they were gonna have a picnic together but Kabru wasn’t there can he please come to their picnic and enjoy himself and have a yummy meal and have an overall very lovely time and think to himself he’s glad he came and he like smiles pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeweeeee

I just want the guy who doesn’t eat meals very often in the manga about eating meals to have a nice meal 💔 is that too much to ask 💔 please please or can we at least draw fanart of that can we get some fanart of him having some like absolutely delicious food waiter waiter more Kabru fanart please and if the chef is able can we please get him having a nice meal? Ok thanks also can we get some fanfics can we invest more on the DunMeshi food themes I think there is not enough content about them eating meals I also think Kabru doesn’t get enough stuff focused on him so can we get some fanfics of him having some nice meals or do I have to write one myself because I will and it will sit around have done in my notes forever because I’m notoriously bad at finishing things but please please Kabru content and if it’s possible can having a nice time and if we can get even more specific can there be Kabru having a nice meal and feeling loved and happy and letting himself be a little selfish for just a little bit so he can focus on his own nice meal and let himself be happy pleaseeee

He makes me so fucking crazy there are so many things wrong with him and I love him. There are so many things I want to say that I can’t even think of the words to. I don’t know how to phrase any of it all I can think about it is Kabru.

Kabru ily 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He looks so stupid in this picture I love him so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[lovelyiida]

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER • A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo came to the realization that he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 4.3K

PS: Please let me know if you have filled out the tag form since the last update so I can keep up to date!!

CHAPTER 8: VULNERABILITY

PHASE 2: CONSOLE

“Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!”

Headline, headline, headline!

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT EXPLODES IN ANGER DURING INTERVIEW

[unreleased footage from Pop! Magazine spreads like wildfire!]

Over 3 million views, and 10 thousand shares.

Since the dawn of the moon, you have been repeatedly refreshing the page. Each and every comment was scanned with frantic-fast movements. Relishing in this whole interview fiasco from the comfort of your queen-sized bed, you moaned in anguish.

Your face became increasingly hot as you read the comments with your third glass of wine in hand. As much as you thought the comments would be demeaning to the pro-hero, the exact opposite happened!

[COMMENT] Did you see how he took up for his secretary? Omg, that was so hot.

• 45k likes • 216 shares

[COMMENT] The way he took her hand going off the set!!!!

• 78k likes • 12k shares

[COMMENT] Oh god, send me a man like Dynamight…

• 57k likes • 2k shares

[COMMENT] Bro there’s no way they aren’t fucking

• 180k likes • 3.8k shares

Of course, that’s the top comment.

Staring at your computer, you tried hard to fathom the situation you were now slapped into. The video of you and Dynamight has gone viral, and everyone now suspects that you two are in a relationship.

And they're not entirely wrong...

Despite your late-night attempts to contact the fiery hero, your calls went straight to voicemail and your texts went unanswered. Letting out a large sigh that was once trapped in your chest, you had no choice but to sit there and let the bomb explode. And await the absolute nuke that was urging to be dropped at the office.

Staring at the messages you sent Dynamight, you scowled. “Flashy piece of carbon fiber pants thinks he’s the shit and can just ignore my messages? Leaving me to the wolves once again!” you shouted in anger. You threw your phone to the end of your bed and buried yourself in your plush duvet. Your throat becomes tight as your eyes are welled with tears.

“I’m gonna teach you, Dynamight, to never fuck with me or any other secretary again.”

The pattern of clicking heels and bustling conversations filled the office today. Usually, the bleak energy of Dynamight's office could be caught with little to no attention. But the sight you’ve seen today was out of the ordinary.

“The printers are down; just send emails!”

“Has anyone been in contact with Pop Magazine? They’re completely blocking our calls!”

“God damn it, I need a raise!”

The chitter-chatter amongst your coworkers is at an all-time high. As you started to quicken the pace of your steps around the office, scowls and stares were slapped across your face. Stepping foot by foot, you reach the bathroom and hide in the nearest stall.

The door bursts open before you can even think about taking another breath. “Can you believe Dynamight fired Hitomi and Sakura for telling the truth? I mean, the whole floor has seen the video! Even Red was speechless.” A woman says her friend snickers at her remark before chiming in.

 “I’d like to see little miss Secretary say something now; she’s not beating the slut-cretary allegations at this point–”

You didn’t know what came over you at the moment, but your feet began to move before your mind could comprehend what the actual fuck was going on. Slamming the stall open, you watch the two women flinched at your action. Eyes going wide, they stare into your soulless eyes, filled with an incomprehensible anger that you didn’t know was held within you.

“First off, let’s get one thing straight right now.”

You said it flatly, closing the stall behind you. You walked up towards the duo and closed in on them. “Me and Dynamight are not a thing; have you ever taken into consideration that I’m the only person who’s in charge of this man's reputation and career, as we both fucking know it?”

"So, of course, I’ll be hip-and-hip with the brute. Do you think I want that man in that play-pen he calls a fucking office? Oh please, Dynamight needs my ass because he can barely keep his head on every second of the day. So just maybe, we should all realize how valuable I am to all of your lives!”

“Because I know that if I wasn’t here, this building would be in flames, man-made or not.”

You spoke sternly with each huff of your breath, and the two women in front of you were left speechless. Your frown soon curled into a small twitch of a smirk before you spoke once more. “So excuse me for needing to be spoken up for. You bitches, have a nice day.”

Without looking back, your feet trailed confidently out of the boss battle that was the ladies' room and straight toward Dynamight's office. With each harsh click of your heels, you stepped closer to the office, your frown stuck and growing deeper by the second. Your coworkers took into account the drastic shift in your demeanor. From shy and outspoken to confident and ten cans of bitchy.

Without thinking twice, you throw the door open with a small huff and walk into the domain of the pro-hero. Closing the door softly, you turn at your heel and scowl at Dynamight. His amber eyes burn back at you with an almost unamused look, unphased by the absolute chaos ensuing beyond the Acia wood door.

“So what? Are we just going to ignore what the press is saying about us?” You said flatly.

“I ignored your annoying ass text messages pretty much the same way,” he snapped back slyly.

This asshat.

As you stormed towards his desk, you slammed your hands against it with a loud slap that made your palms sting. “Is it possible for you to actually talk about the issue and not be a fucking brat?” You spat with anger.

Dynamight's laidback/unbothered exterior soon crumbles in slow motion. From sitting back in his seat, he approaches you with a smooth motion, his eyes glowing amber-red as his elbows land on said desk. Looking straight into your eyes, a devilish smirk etches across his face.

“Say that again for me, Y/N; go ahead.”

Faces close to one another, you could feel the heat radiating off of the hero. You frown at his attempt at intimidation, snapping your eyes away for a single millisecond before you feel a strong, warm grip on your face.

“No, don’t look away now, pretty. Say what you just said to me again. Since you have all the audacity in the world today,” he said with amusement oozing from his tone. You groaned at the sensation of his hand gripping your face, swallowing down your fear. You spoke once more.

“I said, Man up, brat.”

A long-standing pause settles over the room as his gaze burns into your eyes. Suddenly, Dynamight stands up with one swift move. The blonde removes his hand from your face, you moan in anguish at the fade of his unsettling grip and stare into the blonde's eyes once more.

You watch as the hero points his finger at himself with a mischievous smirk,

“You wanna see a brat? I’ll show you a fucking brat!”

He brushes past you and storms out of the room. Shouting your name for you to follow, you quickly turn to follow in blood-curdling anger. You knew he was a pro and all, but there’s a statistic that for every 1 out of 5 chances, a villain can take a perfect hit at a hero of his caliber.

So you might take a chance and strike him at his weak point…

Preferably somewhere in the lower region.

You watch as Dynamight calls for an emergency meeting, calling for all staff to be in attendance. All staff from each agency scurry behind his steps, and even Red Riot follows suit. He tries to calm the hero down, but his efforts fail.

As the workers sat swiftly to hear the beloved hero's comments, your heart began to beat a new rhythm as the truth dawned on you about what you dreaded would happen next.

"So, I believe we all understand why we're in here. So let's address some rumors and set them to fuckin’ rest."

A sudden pang of fear hits your chest and seeps into your body as you hear the words fall off Dynamight's tongue and through the audience of your coworkers. Eyes scan the room until your eyes fall upon a certain red-headed main in the back towards the exit.

Letting out a soft exhale of relief, you speed your way toward Red Riot.

“Red!” You spoke aloud as you gained the attention of the other pro hero. His eyes snap towards you and he points towards his beloved partner in utter confusion. “What the hell is happening now?” He exasperates in exhaustion.

“He’s having a hissy fit because he can’t handle when the public negatively views him–”

“Negative?” He interrupted. You roll your eyes and raise your hands, completely giving up on the situation playing in front of you. “Dude bumped up 10 ranks in public favor, what the hell could he be upset for?” Red Riot spoke in confusion.

Holding your briefcase towards your chest, you sigh at the current baby of the hero stabbing daggers into your form.

“I…I’m not sure.”

As the assembly room filled up, every person in their seat watched attentively as they awaited the hero's urgent message. The blonde clears his throat before groggily shoving them in his pants. Silently pacing back and forth the head of the room with slow steps, eyes still trained onto you.

“I know what everyone is thinking to themselves, why the fuck are we here? Well, I need to address some petty rumors that are going on in the concrete hellscape.”

“All Might save us…” Red Riot groaned quietly as he watched in secondhand embarrassment at the Blondes' stunts.

"If you think me and my secretary have a romantic relationship, I'm afraid you're damn wrong.”

“Don’t listen to what I might’ve said in the past, or what I’ve said in the present. It ain’t true.”

Blah blah blah, blop blop blop.

You swore you could’ve seen physical bullshit fly out of his mouth.

“To prove this…I’m happily engaged!” The hero boasts confidently to the crowd of his workers. Shoving his right hand out of his pocket and out towards the expecting crowd. A diamond-banded ring shone brightly in the bright haze of corporate lighting.

Then, in a moment both shocking and surreal, Dynamight seizes the attention of the room with a declaration that sends ripples of astonishment through the assembled crowd. With a brashness that borders on audacity, he confronts the swirling rumors head-on, his words cutting through the murmurs like a lightning bolt.

In the sudden hush that follows, the truth is laid bare, raw, and unfiltered. The bombshell revelation of your engagement sends shockwaves through the room, leaving jaws agape and minds reeling. Eyes widen in disbelief as whispers erupt, spreading like wildfire among the stunned onlookers.

Yet, amidst the chaos, Dynamight stands undaunted, his demeanor unwavering despite the tempest of reaction he has incited. His confidence radiates as he confronts the storm of speculation with a rare candor, unapologetic in the face of scrutiny.

Calm within the midst of the business casual storm.

As for you, on the other hand, you could only think of one thing to do in this situation. Your feet rush towards the blonde with a speed never before seen, and your hand flies back as far as possible before landing a seething slap on the hero’s cheek.

Dynamight lets out a gasp of shock (and so does everyone else in the room) at your hit. You stood in front of the hero for only a moment before rushing out of the room and straight out of the office.

And now what was left of you was your body sulking under your covers once more. Leaving you to pick up the pieces of your self-worth once more.

You should consider just giving up, calling off the engagement, and leaving the industry for the rest of your life. A soulless desk job would be better than whatever the fuck this reality is right now.

So much for that speech in the ladies' room...

You tried hard to care for and take up for the hero you worked for, but at times like this, your vendetta only grew stronger. And the more your sister became right. But there's a voice in the back of your head that is somewhat empathetic for the hero.

Look at his family, for All Might’s sake!

An overprotective bitch for a mother, and an emotional father with no backbone.

(it’s okay for men to show their emotions!!!)

Of course, that would create a man with a lack of emotions and a soul-crushing ego to overcompensate for it.

Of fucking course!

Sighing into your pillow, you could only fantasize about the words you’d want to say to that man right now. 

“Tight pants, brazen-boned, bastard.” You grit your teeth together, as the words only make you angrier. “Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!” You throw your blankets off your body and jump out of bed. Rushing towards the kitchen, you grab the fridge handle and swing the door open.

“Fuck!”

No beer.

Huffing out a defeated sigh, you eye the clock on the counter. It read 11:45.

Licking your lips, you ponder as you stare at the fridge and back at the clock. You might as well go out for a walk to cool some steam off. Shuffling over to your coat rack, you lazily threw on a hoodie and some slides. Grabbing your purse and your keys, you open the door to your apartment.

Rummaging in your purse for some convenience store coupons, you continued on your slew of words. “I bet he’s not even a real blonde, just a poser of a man-baby–”

“Hah?”

Eyes snapping wide from the voice, you jump back in shock as you see the man of the hour.

“What the hell are you doing here, Dynamight? Do you know what time it is?” You exclaimed in shock, mouth twisted down into a frown. You stared down at the blonde in anger and in utter embarrassment. Looking down further, you noticed he had a couple of bags in his hands.

Beer and chicken?

“Let me in, we need to talk.”

You scoff at the man's words as you throw your purse over your shoulder. “As if, do you know how you embarrassed me and you today?” You spoke with venom at the hero. Dynamight rolls his eyes before he speaks once more, “If it makes you feel any damn better, I made them all sign NDAs.”

You stare at the hero once more in confusion, and he stares back…unwavering in his actions.

“Okay, sure, do whatever you think will place a bandaid over this whole shit show for all I care.” Placing your hands on your hips, you watch the pro hero step towards you. “Yeah? Well, it's a pretty strong bandaid.”

You hum back in response before the both of you fall into silence. The both of you gazed at each other awkwardly, before tearing your gaze away. A light blush warms your face which makes you look down once more. Looking at the bags of fried chicken and beer, you look at Dynamights hand…

His engagement ring is still on!

“You idiot!”

Frantically looking around the outside of your apartment, you turn back and quickly open the door. You then hold the hero by the collar before shoving him inside. He follows suit with a grunt before shutting the door behind him.

“What the hell is your problem?” He cursed at you.

“My problem? My problem is that you come out to my doorstep late at night bearing a peace offering with your ring on, shining brighter than ever! Fuck-face!” You cursed back. This makes the blonde smirk at your complaint.

“If you think someone is watching us, then you’re pretty late to the party,” he chuckles.

“W-what?” you stuttered in anxiety, breaking from his gaze. You locked the doors and shut the blinds to your home. “Calm down; I paid them off a long time ago,” Dynamight rummages through the bags before setting the food and beer out on the dining table.

“Paid them off?” you asked.

“Yeah, they started watching you as soon as you pulled that stunt at the children's interview a while back. They were going to trample your door down just for a couple of gabs about me.” He spoke, cracking open a can of beer. The hero takes a couple of gulps before placing the can down.

Pulling out a chair, the hero sat down and began to speak. “You think you do all of the protecting when it's me.” He takes another swig of his beer as he stares into your eyes. You swallow a lump in your throat before you grab a seat as well.

“But you can’t say I haven’t.” You trailed off.

“Haven’t what?” He asked.

“Took care of you; everyone thinks you're this strong force to never be reckoned with, but you’re the complete opposite,” you rambled as you grabbed a can of beer and cracked it open. Taking a refreshing, much-needed swig.

Katsuki never responded.

“Y’know, it’s crazy how much this position has changed me. For the good or worse… I’m not so sure.” You spoke softly towards the hero.

“And why do you think that, Y/n?” He asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek at the question. “Before I came to this agency, I never knew what it was like to take care of someone besides myself. And even then, I was doing a shit job at it. My life was teetering on by a thin string.”

The room was silent, the only noises being the taping of Katsuki’s foot, the ticking of the clock, and the hum of your refrigerator.

“So what? You’ve never helped someone out before? Beating someone’s ass with your quirk? Nothin’?” Katsuki spoke, trying to understand where you’re coming from. But you could only let out a big sigh.

"Well, technically, I’m kinda quirkless.”

Katsuki’s tapping stopped.

He gave you a look you’ve never seen before; his eyes were growing soft and his chest began to fall. Like he’s loosening up or something. The blonde stared intensely at you, waiting for you to speak once more. Biting your lip, you continued once more.

“It's like it comes in little spurts, no matter how hard I try to concentrate and force it out. It’ll only come out at the randomest of times. I’ve never seen myself at full power before.”

“One moment I was just like you, young and so excited about my quirk. I grew up thinking that I was going to save the world and that I’d work hard and conquer my way to the top. But the thing is, as yours grew stronger, I was only getting weaker. And the next thing I knew, I woke up, and it was gone.”

“So I went through life with the mentality that I needed to give myself a bit more attention; I couldn’t just wing through life knowing that my quirk could save me. But I knew that if I could have a position of power, that would make me feel like I was making a difference out there for you of all people…”

You suddenly laughed at yourself, taking another swig of your beer.

“Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying, I’m already buzzed.”

“No.”

You looked at Katsuki as he spoke, a frown on his lips as he shook his head. You couldn't help but laugh at his demeanor. “All I’m saying is that maybe I wasn’t as cut out for this as I thought I would be. Maybe I’m meant to be a walking target that villains can smell. I’m a walking damsel in distress, honestly. If we didn’t meet through the agency, we could’ve met that way most likely–”

“Shut up.”

Katsuki deadpanned at your words.

“I knew someone who was quirkless, and that loser is stronger than me for all might’s sake!” He exclaimed.

“All I’m saying is that you have a good life, so be proud of it. You work hard, harder than I’ve seen most of the chicken heads that I’ve hired. So bask in that glory.” He says softly, you roll your eyes before you start up again.

“I have a good life? Says the multi-acclaimed pro hero Dynamight! Ranked number two out of the whole country, he drives a red sports car, lives in a nice childhood home, goes to a great school, gets to roll around in money, and gets to tell people how they should dress for five days out of the week? Right, my life is really good.”

You snorted at yourself, reveling in the truth you spoke. But all Katsuki could do was shake his head.

“That same person who you were talking about has almost died countless times, kidnapped in their first year of high school, and has lost too many friends and mentors to count. So yeah, I consider you to have a good life.”

You let out a bittersweet chuckle at his words, “There’s one more thing too.” You added on, Katsuki raised his eyebrows in amusement, “like?”

“You’re also the last to get married.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and lets out an amused smirk. “Right, that’s checkmate for me–”

“How come you’re the last? I would think that you’d be the first! You’re not a bad-looking guy; you might need to work in the emotional availability department but. You’re crystal clear.”

“I uh…  I tried to do the whole young love thing but it didn’t work out in my favor.” He responded softly towards the touchy subject, but you decided to persist.

“And why do you think that, Katsuki?”

Back when Bakugo was a younger, newly emerged pro, there was someone of his caliber that he found perfect. They had the spunk, the quirk, the personality, the looks, even the barons. He believed they were perfect for each other.

He had his sights set on them since he had been working in the force. At first, they were a nice distraction. Clever banter turned into hot makeout sessions. Training days turned into blanket-covered nights where the both of them would talk about their future.

And back then, he believed it. He believed that he had a future with them.

Sometimes he would envy Kirishima; he didn’t understand why he wasn’t chosen to bear the burden of love. A warmth beyond his comprehension, a family that he could selfishly call his own.

Sometimes his mind would trail back to that night. A night that he wished he could forget. A thought that he wished could be locked away forever. He remembers the sight as he looked into their eyes—the utter betrayal.

The smirk of mischief and evil as the one and only person he ever could love has turned against him. The moment when he got stabbed in the chest, too close to his heart. And in that moment, he had to choose selfishly in a way he never wanted to.

And that choice was his life over theirs.

You didn’t know what to say at the moment, Katuski just dropped the biggest bomb you had the burden of holding. Stammering with your thoughts, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Katsuki…”

“I would’ve never known–”

“It wasn’t for you to know; I don’t even know why I told you that,” he said to himself. You softly smile at his harsh words.

“Well, not to toot my own horn but I’m your fiance,” you chuckled. Katsuki gives you a smirk before he looks at your hand. "Then, where’s your ring?” He asked.

“In my room, placed somewhere safe and out of harm's way!” you smiled.

"Well, I’m gonna need you to start wearin’ it more,” he retorted.

“I figured that after your little speech, you gave us away like you weren’t even trying.” You spat out sarcastically. “I didn’t even mention your name!” He raised his voice in protest. “Yeah? Well, I’m sure everyone connected the dots to a perfect fuckin T.” You spoke with a smirk.

"Well then if they decide to connect those lines to the press, that NDA will be there waiting for them to get bit in the ass,” he snapped back.

You laugh at his words before taking a final sip of your beer.

“Why did you choose to give yourself a chance with me?”

Oh, you were buzzed.

“You are a hero that’s supposed to date other heroes, top models, and superstars of your caliber. Why date some small-town secretary that doesn’t even fully have a quirk?” you spoke, just above a whisper. Scared of his next response. Feeling that as if you got the wrong response, you just might hurl all over him.

Katsuki lets out a sigh before he silently panders to himself. He was eyeing you up and down before he finally spoke with a smirk.

“I’m not sure, wishful thinking?”

“asshole”

YAAAAAAAAASSSSUHU IM BACK IM BACK

I saw all your comments begging me to come back, next chapter when? next chapter when? NEXT CHAPTER NOW HOE

As you all might know now, I am a busy college student who finally has time to fantasize and write to my heart's content. SO YOU WILL BE GETTING MORE CHAPTERS OUT OF ME VERY SOON!!

Thank you all so much for the support, I love you all and hope you guys have an amazing read! Please let me know how I did in the comments. Comments and reposts are very much appreciated!!

— lovelyiida 

❥: @xo-evangeline, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows , @itgetzweird08 , @yoyosocks165 , @pebblepoop , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @katsu-shi , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @alicen23 , @xasilex , @elegantvoids , @lowkeyremi , @plutounderbridges , @k0z3me , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @winterv-black , @chuugarettes , @kiarathace , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @hyu-hl , @katsukisxslut , @optimisticprime3 , @cosmicbreathe , @yessimo , @sanemishina , @snxwycloud , @cosmic-rainstorm , @vinivave , @venus-xxoo , @lavender99 , @iluv-ace , @artfulthoughtsblog , @thatcreepycat , @prettylittleshady , @lavalampfullofsoup, @melodykittya , @bakugoiidaswaifu, @queendynamite2001, @starxsage, @mikestuffffs, @queendynamite2001, @kazuumii, @Minori-taiga1, @Liveurlifetothefullest

[angelofsmalldeaath]

abstract (psychopomp) — a.h.b.

cw: death of a pet (in the past), talks of death, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort-esque

the cat collar is old and frayed against my fingers. the red looks brown now and the bell that once hung at the centre of it…well, it’s gone now. gone forever. still, i thumb the empty spot and close my eyes. 

a distant part of my brain remembers the tiny jingle of the bell—tinkling and melodious. accompanied by little chirpy meows.

“thought i’d find you here,” his voice interrupts my thoughts and i put the collar back in the box. it’s instinct to shut it tight, to slide it away from me. who me? i wasn’t the one stuck in the same memory. not me… i’d never… 

his hair is damp like he just got out the shower, the collar of his t-shirt sporting a wet spot from when he obviously didn’t dry himself properly. i blink quickly and smile up at him. 

“i was looking for old boots.”

“you weren’t. i know what date it is.” 

for a moment i hate the expression of absolute surety on his face. i hate how well he knows me. i hate that his eyes fill up with love and warmth—something that slides over my skin like thick molasses, suffocating me thoroughly. 

“you’re allowed—”

“i know what i’m allowed!” the snap in my voice startles us both. 

his face crumples a little, eyebrows furrowed, a small crease formed right between them. my hands twitch at my sides. i should be walking over to him and smoothing the crease with my thumb. 

instead, i lean against the wall, hoping one of these boxes in storage might swallow me whole. 

i wait for him to say something else—maybe tell me again that i’m allowed to “feel my emotions” or that i’m allowed to cry about it or one of thousand other sweet things he has in his arsenal. 

he blinks and rearranges his face into a smile. “do you know what i remember about that day?”

i give him a wry smile. “blood? there was a lot of it…”

“i remember you. i remember falling in love with you.”

my heart skips a beat. that’s hardly the thing i’d expected him to say. “that’s—”

“not what you were expecting? i know.” for a moment the room goes quiet. the dust motes float in the air—like little flecks of glitter in the sunlight. all i remember about that day is grief. 

all i remember is loss. 

“it was so cold, do you remember? you nose was all red and runny. i teased you about it…”

“mercilessly,” i chuckle. he’s walked closer now, so close that our toes touch and the space between our bodies fills with heat. 

i swallow and look up at him. this closeness has me craning my neck just to properly look into his eyes, and i see it there—the same look he had in his eyes then, a certain kind of shine. the deja vu leaves me breathless. 

“you wouldn’t stop burrowing your hand in my pocket, you refused to leave my hand. i thought my heart would burst into a million tiny pieces.”

“well…that’s not good.”

“it was,” he clicks his tongue, “until it wasn’t. you ran into the traffic right in front of me and i couldn’t do anything but stand and stare and hope my heart won’t explode into a million pieces on the pavement.”

“i didn’t… i didn’t know she’d escape from the window and run out onto the street.” 

for a second i close my eyes and relive the scene in flashes—laughter. shock. a ball of familiar black fur running past us. the screech of tyres. bright lights. blood. so much blood. 

and then his hand on my back…

“let go, baby,” he says, drags his knuckles down my spine and i look at my hands, at all the blood. my white nails stained crimson, the red collar stained brown. 

i blink and come back to the present. 

“i remember thinking you were so brave. you are so brave. i remember being terrified that i’d lose you before i told you i loved you.”

his smile turns sad and my heart splinters. a lot of memories from the day are a blur but i remember his shaky voice. i remember how his hands won’t stop shaking, how he’d bite his lip to stop it from wobbling. 

“do you think about it often? about me running into oncoming traffic.”

“every night, i think.” there’s simple honesty in his voice and i picture him lying there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying that scene in his head. “but i allow myself to feel the fear, then i turn to you and pull you into my chest and everything is perfect again. everything is alright.” 

“ah,” i chuckle—a small sound tinged with sadness. “and that’s what you want me to do. you want me to feel it. and then let you make me forget it.”

“exactly.”

“i should fire my therapist. you’re so much better.”

he laughs and pulls me into a kiss. his beard tickles, but his hold on my waist grounds me. then he pulls the box back towards us and takes the collar out. it’s still darker in some spot, stained with the same blood, a mix of red and maroon now. i take it from him and hold it against my chest. 

“i miss her. she was my baby.” 

“i know you do. i see you,” his thumb swipes on my cheek, brushing some stray hair aside, “sometimes at night you go on pet adoption sites. i see you scrolling.”

“and you never said anything?”

“i figured you’d come to me when you were ready…”

tears tighten my throat and i barely stifle the sob threatening to come out. the collar looks so small in my hands, scrunched up tightly into a little ball. 

“i couldn’t get a new pet just yet. it won’t be fair.”

“but we could look at them, laugh at their silly names? we could stay in bed and watch silly cat compilations on youtube.”

through tears, i laugh. a few fall on my nose and he wipes them away as quick as they appear. 

“that sounds perfect,” i nod. 

and then for the rest of the day, that’s what we do. 

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!! i just want to say that i’m in LOVE with the way you write your stories and maybe ask you if you can write a fluffy phoebe spengler/f!reader in which r is in danger and phoebe rushes in to save her (i hc phoebe as lesbian, but if you like to write gn reader, that’s okay!)? :)

ooo sure! ; also I see her as lesbian as well! I just write gn because everyone gets to be included and they/them is the most comfortable for me to write if that makes sense ; thanks for requesting! hope you enjoy :) ; also sorry for making you wait so long for this being so short, writing motiv hasn't existed recently

PHOEBE SPENGLER ; modern fears

summary ; you find yourself in some ghostly trouble and Phoebe saves you

warnings ; language

track ; modern fears, electric youth

word count ; 671

masterlist

You run away from the ghost that was chasing you, or the demon, or ancient God, really. You didn't exactly know, to be fair. Guraka entered the firehouse and had you all, except you, Phoebe, and Podcast, pinned against the walls, freezing as ice spikes nearly pierced their necks.

Podcast hid in the Ecto after his drone was broken into a million pieces by the twenty foot tall demon/God. He hid behind the back seats, trying to save himself. You step back, your proton pack frozen while hers was still working due to the re-working of some of the machine guts.

You hide behind her, watching as she slowly pushes down on the trigger of the proton pack, the machine wirring and spinning as it powers up. She looks back at you, almost trying to convince herself that you'd be fine behind her, like she was protecting you.

You, trying to not be in her way, step to the side, an ice spike quickly pinning you against the wall, grazing your neck. You yelp as you stand on your tippy toes, holding your head up as high as possible. Phoebe, as she squeezes the trigger, looks back again, seeing your trapped self.

"Y/n!" She yells out of fear for you, also trying to shout over the noise in the large garage.

You aren't able to respond, any moving of your larynx would've caused your demise. She looks away again, her feet pushing down on the ground as hard as she could as she tried to fight for you.

She falls back, being defeated as the proton pack guts explode, leaving her defenseless. Melody quickly steps up, her match lit as whoever the random "Fire Master" guy was able to conjure his powers and save the day like some cliche.

In the meantime, Phoebe crawls her way toward you, ditching the proton pack weighing her frostbitten self down. She's covered in snow, the cold wind nipping her cheeks, nose, and lips. She places her hands around the top of the ice spike, trying to break off the tip to help you be able to stand flat and not have to worry about dying.

She pulls and pulls with no luck.

"Pheebs, I can't stand like this much longer!" You exclaim, feet and neck straining.

She grunts, a foot placed against the base of the ice for support. Her bare hands continued to pull and tug at the frozen liquid, her knuckles bright red from the frostbite and force she was placing on it.

She groans as she flies back into the side of the Ecto-1, freeing you just in time as you let go, your toes numb from the frostbite and lack of circulation. Your breathing is staggered and anxious, but you aren't at risk of death any longer.

You cover your ears as you witness a giant beam of light explode at your side, the sound like a thousand strikes of lightning crashing against your feet all at once. You'd probably need hearing aids after this.

As you're freed from the mini cage of ice, Phoebe pulls you into her arms to protect you. You're clearly in pain, ears ringing, fingers frozen. She is too, but cradles you in a hug, her speech inaudible as she speaks to Melody.

You watch with blurry vision while Melody fades into the fabric of the universe, waving goodbye.

You hide your face in Phoebe's shoulder, the light making your new migraine even worse than it already was. Your body heat collides with each other's, becoming your own personal radiators.

After some minutes of waiting to get your senses back, you look up at her. She looks back at you, a soft expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, hands softly placed on your cold, pale cheeks.

You nod, feeling her slightly warm fingers touch your freezing cheeks. She flinches a bit at the temperature difference.

"Wow, you're cold"

"No shit, Sherlock"

"Actually, Sherlock was a very respectable and smart detective-"

[sciderman]

So the first issue of Ziglars second Spider-Punk series came out, and i dunno if you care about Hobie, as it would be completely fair if you didn't, there's enough Spider-people already. Reading it i think i finaly found out why I felt so conflicted about his original run on Hobie and his Seven Slaughters Deadpool story doesn't really click with me. It all feels very...hollow. The look is there, it has the aesthetic, the references, the words, but the actual soul and understanding of the characters just isn't there outside of the popular base-level understanding of the characters. And maybe his Miles stuff is different, i wouldn't know as i haven't read any of it, but his Hobie stuff just doesn't speak to me, especialy after how strongly Jed MacKays original two one-shots hit me.

The jump from a guy ready to give up his life for the cause, who's angry and dark who dislikes being branded as "Spider-Punk" to this bright jokey kid who yells out "Spider-Van" "Spider-Band" "Spider-Base" like he's talking about new toys for his action line feels so weird.

Sorry for this ramble, especialy about something you propably don't care about, but I just wanted to leave this somewhere.

i haven't checked it out! unfortunately i haven't read any spider-punk at all - i love hobie as a character, but i'm only really familiar with his 616 counterpart - not so much the spider-punk stuff, simply because i'm kind of - not into all the spider-verse stuff. it's just so much to keep on top of, and kind of the only spider-man i care about is peter parker (sorry to all other spider-men. i've tried but i'm a spider-monogamist i think. and i picked the worst one.)

i love hobie in the movie, he's great. but i think i completely get the concern about "punk" being just coopted as an aesthetic, and being turned into a bit of a hollow thing. there's this artist i was ranting about to a friend the other day who i despise with a vengeance for his artwork that kind of... just... adopts an aesthetic but is devoid of any actual meaning. mr brainwash. looking at you.

i'll kill him. his paintings go for hundreds of thousands. and it's meaningless. it means nothing. "follow your heart" shut the fuck up. he just thought "banksy is cool. im going to do whatever he's doing" and it's empty and devoid of any meaning whatsoever. fuck you mr brainwash. sincerely. fuck you. i hope all your paintings explode into millions of pieces and i never have to see them again.

sorry. completely irrelevant to your ask. i should try and read some spider-punk. but hollow art depresses me so much. it gets me so sad when i see someone getting PAID to say nothing. whether that be in the art world or in comic books. sucks. bad. i hate empty art. please use your platform to say something. it's such a waste. it's such a waste.

[t4tbedehopmar]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD REVEL IN RIVALRY IS COMING BACK GUYS REVEL IN RIVALRY IS ACTUALLY COMING BACK I'M GENUINELY CRYING RN

[gallifreyshawkeye]

Churning them out on this one! I'm just enjoying the ride because this doesn't happen on all fics

Summary:

Michael and Aziraphale finally talk and secrets are revealed at the safehouse cabin (a.k.a. Michael and Dagon's "sex cabin" per Aziraphale). Just as they starting to strategize their moves, Dagon unexpectedly shows up with news from Hell.

Excerpt:

To his knowledge, in all the millions of years they had existed, Aziraphale had never seen Michael blush. She was beet red now. Aziraphale turned to face the ocean and leaned both hands on his knees and dropped his head, breathing hard.

“It’s a tryst cabin.” Michael’s voice was prim and impossibly tight.

Aziraphale turned his head to look at Michael without standing up. “A what?” he asked.

“A tryst. It means…”

“Yes I know what it means,” Aziraphale interrupted curtly, shaking his head and looking back down again.

“It sounds less crude,” Michael elaborated in the same prim, overly proper voice.

“‘Less crude’?” Aziraphale managed in disbelief. Neither of them said anything for a while. Even though Michael had been the one to say they needed to have a conversation and brought Aziraphale out here, this piece of information was his to process and they both knew it.

“How could you?” Aziraphale said at last, not able to even look at Michael and his voice shaking slightly, “How could you…” Aziraphale’s chest heaved as he forced himself to say the words, “... hunt him down and turn him over when you…” He broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Not that it needed to actually be said. 

“It was my job,” Michael said simply.

“Your…j… Your job?” Aziraphale half-spluttered, half-exploded, “Your job?! So, what, you just, happily walk around as the biggest hypocrite to have ever existed?!” Something in him snapped, and without even thinking, the cadence of Crowley’s mocking sarcasm surged out of him, “Oh, excuse me, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, never mind I’ve terrified you out of your mind for the past thousands of years about being associated and friends with your Earth equivalent, the never-to-be-trusted demon Crowley, I’ve just been over here shagging Hell’s Master of Torments, the demon Dagon. But you carry on, it was just my job, you understand.”

Now Michael got angry, and suddenly she was only inches away from Aziraphale, meeting his blazing eyes with her own equally furious ones. 

“No. You clearly don’t understand, Aziraphale. You clearly understand nothing,” she said.

“Then enlighten me,” Aziraphale replied coldly and bitterly, “You said at Crowley’s flat we needed to talk. So talk.”

Michael waited a beat before taking a step back and arranging herself into a more conversational posture. “The first thing you should know is that I had no idea the Metatron meant for anything other than a handoff to happen. Truly.”

[enkvyu]

heizou's table is a mess.

paper is scattered atop a wooden desk, its context written in unintelligible lettering, the words running off the page and onto another sheet all stained black. wax lumps litter the surface, evidence of sleepless nights hunched over a single dying flame. pens, pencils, crumpled scrolls and wrinkled books, nothing on his desk made sense for anyone other than himself.

and perhaps, the most incoherent thing about the desk was heizou himself.

"heizou," a voice breaks the still of his office and when the boy looked up, he finds himself in the presence of his colleague, kujou sara. "you've ignored another official request for your own personal schemes again."

her words are blunt, unsusceptible to protesting not that it mattered because heizou neither argued nor made light of the situation. instead, he met her gaze unflinchingly.

"so i have. and?"

"how long are you going to act like this?"

heizou's hand tightens around his pen, his jaw clenched. "how long are you going to come in here and lecture me?"

sara sighs, her head finding purchase in her hands. "you know i only mean well."

"enough. perhaps if you didn't find spare time to come here everyday, i would have already solved my personal scheme by now."

"heizou," sara starts again, only her voice is devoid of all emotion except pity. "the case has already been solved."

"not by me."

"there is no other evidence that could change the conclusion of the case. they're gone, heizou. it's time you accepted that."

the pen snaps in his hand and heizou finds himself breaking in two just like it, the entire world shattering into a million pieces. his chair falls with a loud crash, guards stationed outside shouting in alert at the noise, as his hands slam onto his desk.

papers fall to the ground, your smiling illustration beaming up at him as if in taunt.

"enough!" heizou yells again, but he can't hear his own voice. "that's enough, kujou sara. you've done enough. please leave."

but the general stands still, eyeing her friend in concern. and it is that exact expression that heizou distastes, the empty words and looking eyes, the "he's changed" and "i miss them too".

"i miss them too." she says and heizou's vision swarms and sways. "but they wouldn't have wanted you to suffer like this."

"you don't have the right to mourn them!" heizou explodes.

sara sets her jaw. "is this still because i closed the case?"

"you knew i was away. if you kept it open for longer, until i got back, i would have been able to find whoever did this to name. but you didn't."

"then what is the evidence you've gotten since then?" the general's words are spat out as if accompanied by a bad taste. "what are your new conclusions since then, the product of all your time away from the agency? face it, heizou. they're gone and their killer has escaped. it's been months since then, even if you did find the perpetrator, do you think anything would change? the case is dead, cold. and there's nothing you can do about it anymore."

"get out!" curling his fist in, heizou punches his desk, sending it flying past kujou sara into the wall next to the door.

papers fly everywhere, scribbles and leaking ink and torn pictures and highlighted news articles, hundreds and thousands of pictures of inazuma citizens, and even more images of you, you posing next to him on your first date, you running away from an angry oni, you against the backdrop of a settling sun, you and him, you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you

his fist breaks the ground beneath his feet, crumbling just like the world around him, this filthy unpure world that outcasted you so easily, so easily erasing every trace of your existence.

"heizou, cut it out!"

sara angles away from him, her bow clenched in her hand. around her, the guards stand with their own weapons in hand.

"are you going to shoot me, sara?" heizou asks without humour.

"you need to calm down."

"no, what i need to do is find name."

"name is dead!" sara snaps. "and if you keep acting like this, you'll end up that way too."

"i'll find evidence, i know i will. i always do."

"not this time, heizou. let name's death be not in vain."

"in vain?" heizou laughs, bitterly. "your fake report says they were caught in the crossfire of a robbery."

"yes," she says. 'live a good life, they would have wanted that, not this obsession over their death."

"you know something."

"heizou, i need you to calm down."

"what are you hiding?"

the guards look at each other in unease, weapons faltering. that was the opening heizou needed.

in the split moment that his attackers hesitated, heizou charged at them with a fist infused with anemo. they flew backwards, hitting the ground unforgivingly, all except for sara who leapt backwards.

narrowly avoiding the electro object in her wake, heizou grabs the leg of his desk and swings it upwards and at her.

sara's eyes fly open. she draws back her bow and aims at the table, splitting it in half, the parts falling to either side of her. when the dust settles, she finds herself staring at an empty room.

cursing under her breath, sara rushes to the open window.

but heizou was already gone.

noise behind her makes her turn, and her next words are directed into a command. "find heizou and arrest him." she orders, and the guards trickle out of the room with a salute, dedicated in their hunt.

when they leave, the general faces back to the window, peering out into the rolling landscape. somewhere, on this island, heizou was hiding. and unlike his lover, his ambition was not dead.

"don't make me kill you too."

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Exploding into a thousand million little pieces because of the newest shortonegaming v3 episode

I Cannot BELIEVE Allison opened up the episode (after taking a break between the two mid trial) theorizing that GONTA did it. holy fuck. I Genuinely can't believe it. I mean, she figured out the truth of the virtual world super quickly and once you know that, you can easily narrow it down to Gonta or Kokichi by alibis alone. But I'm SHOCKED. She doesn't fully know the reasoning for it yet though and for that I'm so, so excited.

But another thing- The thing about v3 trial 4 for me is that there is a cut off where things start getting extremely anxiety inducing for me, and thats just around after Shuichi lies about Kokichi's alibi. guess where they stopped the freaking episode.

I am very excited to see them get to this part, of course, because its AWESOME. But holy fuck I dont know how I'll be able to handle it. I had to scream into a pillow about this. Next episode they're just gonna remote detonate my laptop

[feelo-fick]

For the ask: UHHH FAVOURITE MOOMIN CHARACTER GO‼️

POINTS AT MY ENTIRE FUCKING BLOG

iS IT A LITTLE TOO OBVIOUS HOW MUCH I LOVE SNUFKIN

like IRRITATINGLY OBVIOUS

LOOK HES MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER ARCHETYPE, STOIC ONE WHOS SECRETLY CHAOTIC (and has lots of potential to break down hee hee hoo hoo) and i kin him so hard that it turns me into a pile of mush

hes one of those characters that hit all the right spots for me and just. nail the dart board for blorbos and simpery and kinning and JUST LITERALLY ALL ACROSS THE BOARD I LOVE HIM

i just looove him sooo muuuuchh socially awkward that is a threat to society? hello? just like me for real???

and also like GO SUPRESS THOSE EMOTIONS SMALL FINNISH MAN I WAS SEE YOU BURN FROM THE COMBUSTION OF YOUR FEELINGS, EXPLODING INTO A SPUTTERING FOREST FIRE THAT LIGHTS UP THE SKIES WITH A THOUSAND SUNS AND YOUR TEARS SHALL FLOOD THE SAME FOREST GROUND SIZZLING AT THE TOUGH OF THE GLOWING SKIN OF RAW FEELING AND THAT THE SOUND OF YOUR HEARTBEAT BRINGS A SHARP ARROWING PAIN SO THOROUGH THAT YOU CANNOT DENY IT ANYMORE

...im extremely normal about him i just really love seeing characters who push feelings down explode into a million pieces KANSJAAN

[the-drug-addicts-diary]

My first manic episode

They told me, that despite my bipolar medication, I can still get mood swings. Most likely, I can still get depressed. And i did during winter. Nothing severe, it was just seasonal stuff. So I am always kinda ready for depression, but I wasn't ready for mania. I thought it couldn't happen to me.

And I was wrong.

My medication works perfectly and I'm very responsible when it comes to it. I got into full remission for a long time, so i really didn't see it coming. My lithium levels most likely dropped a bit, which should be fine. We'll just wait for the results to come and increase the dose. I'm not afraid much about that part.

But there were signs. Many weeks before that. Signs i didn't pay attention to, because it didn't occur to me that this could happen. I never heard of the prodromal phase of mania before. For example, depression is one of many possible symptoms, i mean, what the f...?

In 12 years of being treated as a bipolar patient (and 7 of being diagnosed) i never even got manic before. I had mixed episodes or depressions.

I had a couple of cases of hypomania as well, but it was so rare and mostly harmless, that i never really cared.

Most of it happened during active addiction and it pretty much made me believe that since I'm clean and medicated, it won't happen again.

Hypomania was laughter and higher self esteem.

It was buying stuff i didn't need. It was high heels and a minidress, and drinking with strangers. It was bright and pure. It was creativity and stupid impulses, with more or less severe consequences. It was fun.

But mania was a killer.

My heart was so full, that if i'd get any happier, I'd explode into millions of pieces of joy and rage. It was gaining more and more energy from any attempt to get rid of it. Mania was not being able to think or speak coherently, because every single thought shattered into thousands of others. Mania was "I'm not bipolar" thinking.

It was two weeks of my life i have almost no memories of.

It can still be a part of a mixed episode, but i'm starting to doubt that.

Thankfully, I didn't do anything I would have to regret. I learned to love myself so it would probably take much more to make me do anything, that could harm me in any way. Mostly, I was just making videos as a "project" for youtube (which was, luckily, forbidden by my wife) where i was trying to describe how i felt, and got frustrated every time, because i couldn't speak.

It makes it easier to remember, but really hard to watch.

But i finally understood how nasty this disease is. A part of me always thought that I am "faking it". I had these thoughts during the episode, and I kinda have them now, while not even sure if the episode is truly over, or if it's just a temporary effect of the antipsychotic pill i took 2 days ago. Anyway I tried to really fake it yesterday, just so I'd know, and it's not physically nor mentally possible.

Which means, it was real.

Those signs i talked about earlier, they are still here. I don't need much sleep. I'm forgetting to eat, but still have lots of energy to keep me going. My thinking is different. My cognitive functions are one big mess. I can't focus, I'm easily distracted. My memory sucks. But it's still much, much better than it was a couple of days ago.

It wasn't fun. It was horrible and i wanted it to end, while being eternally grateful that i get to experience it. It was inability to hold a thought long enough to share it out loud. It was a shadow, appearing in the corner of my eye, but disappearing before i could take a good look at it. It was being frozen in one moment, just a second before my reality was about to collapse. It was creepy... and it was loved.

There are so many words i could use for describing what it was like. I could precisely describe it in many ways. But I can't say how i feel about it right now.

There are no words for that.

(Update: yeah, i was definitely manic while writing that, but I'm still gonna keep it here.)

[hitsuzenhusbands]

i havent properly posted any writing scraps in forever so. have a snippet of an asoue fic because im going crazy i think. warnings for alcohol use, a general lack of self-preservation, and olaf being so so so miserable

-

The smoke stings his lungs, the alcohol his tongue, and for a moment all Olaf can taste is bitter nothingness as his senses desperately cling to anything that isn’t his own self-inflicted suffering. Still, though, he waits until the moment passes–his chest exploding with heaving coughs and his throat burning as whatever he found in the dusty old bottle he now grips tightly in his dirty fingers slides down it–and then he does it all over again. 

There’s a word for this, he thinks, though only because years of training have taught him that there’s a word for everything. Miserable, perhaps, or desolate, though he’s well aware there’s fancier words. If he knew them, he’d tack on ennui and languor for the hell of it, and then list a thousand more until his tongue fell off and his lungs rotted. That’s what everyone else in that organization is going to do anyway, he’s decided.

Not that anything they do matters to him.

He lets his cigarette butt float delicately to the floor to join the others before lifting the hand that held it from its place on the arm of his chair. It’s an old thing; bright green–a stark contrast to everything else in his beloved childhood home, his inheritance of code violations and countless infestations–and broken, propped up by one half of a wooden leg and books to replace the others. It’s not nearly as out of place as it should be. The books are just another pile among piles, and the green could almost be compared to the numerous discarded bottles that would glimmer with the same tint if the windows weren’t so clouded with dirt. Even he fits the scene: a centrepiece of a luxuriously hideous robe that floods the scrawny man within it, hiding his torso in folds of black fabric adorned with obnoxious golden flowers yet not-quite reaching his unshaven legs that sprawl over the other armrest. 

He pictures himself a grieving widow, wrapped in her finest piece of silk while she awaits the day she too is taken by death’s vice-like grip. If not that, he’s from some Shakespearean play, clad in something lavish that may or may not be a part of a greater metaphor, lamenting everyone around him for they all always die in the end–or however it goes. 

But the widow doesn’t drink so much and the poor Shakespearean soul never smokes, so he is left a not-exactly grieving son in his mother’s robe that’s far too ornate and unsightly to make up a metaphor, no matter how much he always wanted it when she was alive. 

He lifts the bottle to his lips once more and takes a sip he didn’t realize was the last one, a slow dribble of unrecognizable alcohol that barely does anything more than inspire him to scramble to his feet in a dizzy, furious haze and slam the empty bottle down against the floor. He watches it shatter, splintering into a million pieces that will never be cleaned. He’s been in the house long enough that this new mess is nothing but an extension of it–tangible proof of the decay that crawls through the water pipes and buries itself between disintegrating floorboards. A sliver of sunlight finds its way through a window, hitting the shards of glass and reflecting viridescent light against peeling wallpaper.

There’s a word for this, too–for the feeling that bubbles up inside of him while he stares numbly at the broken bottle and the vaguely beautiful emerald shine it produces that dances upon his walls; its ghost. 

Sullen. Somber. Dismal. Wretched.

The doorbell rings the moment he settles on pathetic.