#me and many other depressed kids who had no hope for their futures

[ghostlyglide]

Not to bash on anyone who has said this, but it’s really interesting hearing people talk about their teen years saying “yeah when you’re that age you think you’re invincible.” Meanwhile there was me believing I would be dead long before I graduated college

[succcession]

We're gonna have a fucking baby

Kendall Roy x f!reader (Smut) 3.2k word count

Summary: After spending the day with Kendall and his two kids, Kendall admits he frequently fantasizes about having another baby with you. This conversation quickly leads to an intimate night of him trying to make that happen.

“I mean, is this all my life is y/n? Forty years of fucking up”.

“Ken, your life is forty years of being an amazing older brother, a hardworking son, and a great dad! Maybe with a few hiccups along the way but…who's counting?” you exclaimed as you placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of your emotionless boyfriend. His large eyes staring back at his reflection in the black liquid.

“The press is counting, my family is fucking counting. And you don’t have to lie y/n, I know I am neglectful in all those relationships. Especially with my kids” he roughly remarked.

For weeks you had been pushing the idea of Kendall spending more time with his kids. Whenever he had a day off you would throw out suggestions like, “Hey Ken, the weathers great! Maybe we should bring Sophia and Iverson to Central Park.” Or “NYC has so many museums, we should take Sophia to the ballet, and Iverson to the Hall of Science”. Never intending to make Kendall feel like a deadbeat dad. You knew how he admired his kids. Occasionally he just needed a little push to be there for them. 

Due to Kendall’s lackluster attitude you figured today wasn’t the day to ask kendall if he wanted to make plans with his kids. Maybe it was the warm Saturday morning air flooding the usually chilling apartment, or the fact that Kendall was finally not in the office on a weekend but you just had to throw out the idea one more time. “Ken, I know you're having a rough day” you said softly as you reached out to squeeze his open hand. “But maybe not being cooped up in the office or your apartment will make you feel better-”

“Look, I know where you're going with this y/n and I’m not going to another one of your fucking pilates classes.” Kendall directly cutting off your sentence before you could finish. You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's consistent apathy.

“Damn, but I just love seeing you so worked up and sweaty” you retort. “No Ken, I was going to say, why don't we take Sophia and Iverson to the zoo today?” you cheerfully presented. To your surprise Kendalls eyes nearly seemed to light up at the word “zoo” as if something clicked inside of him, almost breaking his depressive state. Kendall responded with a quick “let me call Rava”.

You watched the rows of skyscrapers pass as you and Kendall sat in suffocating silence on the way to Rava’s apartment. Kendall fidgeted in his seat, pulling on his t-shirt, mindlessly switching between apps on his phone before eventually letting out a quiet “you know, you don't have to come if you don't want to y/n, I can pick them up by myself if it makes you more comfortable.” You placed your hand gently on his upper thigh giving a light squeeze as you explained. “Ken, it's really okay. I mean she's the mother of your children! We can't exactly avoid each other forever.” you said, showing a soft smile to assure Kendall of your confidence. Honestly, you and Rava got along fine. Although she was slow to warm up to you, you never took it personally. Who wouldn't be cautious of their drug addict, ex husbands, new girlfriend. Over time her cold demeanor shifted as you two began having small conversations whenever she would pick the kids up. You almost admired Rava in a way. She was beautiful, always looked elegantly put together, successful in her career, and she was an amazing mother. Everything you secretly hoped to one day be for Kendall.

 As the car pulled up to Rava’s apartment you mind began to picture how your future might look with Kendall if things continued at the pace they were. Of course, Kendall had joked many times about getting you pregnant and running away together to get married. But you two never had a real discussion about what you saw for your future. You couldn't help but occasionally daydream of you and Kendall standing in an empty room deciding between sage green or soft peach, paint swatches for a nursery. Or rocking your baby to sleep as Kendall softly wrapped his arms around your waist, humming gently in your ear. 

Your mind wandered further into your maternal daydream as your day at the zoo went on. Observing how patient and gentle Kendall was Iverson and how lovingly he doted on Sophia, had your heart skipping beats every minute. Making sure to capture hundreds of photos of all the adorable moments. Kendall typically only showed his love in undisclosed ways but with his children it was on full display. 

As you and Iverson stared into a tank of swimming otters counting each one that passed, Kendall realized for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing in on him. There was something reassuring about watching you point out different frog species with Iverson and hold hands with Sophia, skipping together to each animal. Everytime he heard one of his kids yell “Dad, come look!” served as a reminder that he still had people in his life who cared about him. Who needed him. 

Kendalls wandering thoughts were interrupted by a small tug on his sleeve and he looked down to find his daughter sweetly beaming up at him.

“What's up Princess? Are you having a good time?”

 “Dad! y/n is so cool and you’re always happier when you're with her!” The young girl exclaimed.

Kendalls entire demeanor softened, and he kneeled down to wrap his arms around Sophia. Hearing those words nearly broke his heart. He was highly aware he wasn’t always at his best when around his kids, but he always tried to fake it for Sophia and Iverson. The fact that his kids could see past the facade made him sick. Just another reminder of the ways he was becoming like his father. 

Kendall attempted to hide his shame from Sophia, responding smoothly “Yeah Soph, I guess you’re right about that. Lucky for us, I think y/n is here to stay.” In spite of her fathers hopefully tone, Sophia was hardly a young kid anymore and she could still see the fragment of sadness Kendall felt. She pleaded further “Please dad! y/n is the best! I want her around forever!”. After his divorce Kendall decided remarrying was out of the question for him. The thought of being like his dad; multiple wives with kids he ignored from each, practically gave him nightmares. However, Kendall couldn’t deny that when he met you, his mindset instantly changed. Within only a few months the thought of you having his child definitely crossed his mind more than once. He would catch himself picturing moments like you handing him a pregnancy test with a bright ‘+’ result. Staring up at him with your soft eyes anticipating his reaction. How he would scoop you up in his arms and yell “we're having a baby!” kissing you all over and reminding you how he would take care of you forever. Nonetheless, he always pushed those thoughts aside and never revealed how he really dreamed of you two ending up. The press already had a field day with your age gap, you were really starting to build momentum in your career and the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel trapped.

That night you and Kendall sat snuggling on the couch, scrolling through all of the silly photos taken throughout the day. You felt especially safe wrapped in Kendall's arms tonight. Assuming it was just the effects of getting to see Kendalls paternal instincts. He left gentle pecks along your forehead while giggling at every photo of Iverson and Sophia posing with the animals. The effortless time with his kids paired now with your warm body cuddled on top of him reliving the memories was already filling him with a mellow nostalgia. 

As you scrolled past a selfie of you kissing Kendall on the cheek you giggled “we would make such cute babies.” Instantly Kendalls ears perked up seeing as he was the one usually joking about making babies. 

“Are you kidding? Our kids would be like the next super model, techno DJ, fucking ultra geniuses!” 

You expected Kendall to have to have such a teasing reaction but honestly you were being serious. 

“Fuck yeah they would!” you joked back, pressing a peck to your boyfriend's lips. Kendall quickly deepened the kiss before pulling back to look at you.

“Did I ever tell you how sexy I think you would look pregnant?” Kendall whispered. “What? Omg Kendall no! You have never told me that” you laughed.

“Come on. What do you think… I think about after I cum in you?” he said with a large grin. 

“Ken I- are you serious? Do you really think about you?”

 Despite the giggle you let out as you asked, you knew Kendall caught on to the trace of hopefulness behind your question. 

“Uh of course, I think about how fucking beautiful my girlfriend would be with my child, yeah.” Kendall assured. 

Your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. Despite being unsure if Kendall was being honest or simply pulling your heartstrings hearing him say those words was making you melt deeper into his arms.

“Mm really? How often?” you teased, hoping to gather more confirmation that Kendall wasn’t just joking.

“Um okay, you want me to be honest?” he asked.

“One hundred percent.” you said.

“Like. Everyday.”

Stunned by his answer, your mouth fell open and stumbled to come up with a response. 

“Seeing you with Sophia and Iverson, waking up to you every morning, fuck y/n, you have no idea how bad I want to come home to you and our family.” Kendall continued.

“Our family?” you questioned.

 You could sense Kendalls discomfort with your reaction. You hadn’t intended to say that thought aloud but you were speechless. It felt as if the delusional world in your head and reality were swapping places. 

Kendalls large eyes were staring into your eyes, anxiety flooding his body, praying you say something else. 

“Ken I-” you began, before being interrupted by a distressing Kendall.

“Look y/n its just a thought, I mean I’m definitely not trying to push for something you’re not ready for, like I know your young and-”

Crashing your lips into Kendalls was the only way you knew to shut him up from his fearful rambling.

“But…I want you, Kendall.” you said.

 Your hands holding his face to look directly into his dark eyes. “I want all of you. All of your bad habits. All of your ex-wife, Roy family drama baggage. And especially…to have your babies.” you drew out slowly, letting a devilish smile creep onto your face. 

That was all the reassurance Kendall needed before he was kissing you deeply , moving to positioning himself in between your thighs, hovering above you.  

“Is that really what you want y/n? You want me to make you mine?” His previously trembling voice was now confident and nearly patronizing.

“Mhm baby, only yours” you replied sweetly while attempting to grind your hips up to Kendalls. That slight bit of friction was met with a repressed grunt from Kendall, his hands moving to tightly grip your hips, halting any movement. You could tell Kendall was already craving you. You could feel his dick growing harder as it pressed firmly against your clothed center. The truth was Kendall was hard since the conversation had begun. Even when you had simply joked earlier about making cute babies Kendall couldn’t help the blood that instantly rushed to his cock, causing it to throb against his sweats.

Kendall moved slowly to remove the soft sweater you were wearing, gently helping you to pull out each arm before lifting it over your head. His lips softly connected to your neck. Leaving light pecks, stopping occasionally to gently suck on the skin and admire the small blemishes he was leaving behind. His large hands softly massaging your breasts before his tongue swiftly moved to draw light circles around your nipples. Taking the small bud between his lips and sucking tenderly, making sure to give each nipple equal attention. Your body pushed your chest forward desperately giving in to his delicate touch. His ability to instantly turn you into a moaning mess never failed. 

You squirmed beneath him searching for something to grind against, desperate to stimulate the area he was ignoring. 

“This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it? For me to fuck you and make you mine? Already so eager for my fucking cum in you. My pretty girl” Kendall taunted softy. Watching you gasp as your back arched into him. 

“Please Ken” you pleaded.

His fingers trace slowly down your body, finally making contact with your touch deprived center. Using two fingers to rub soft circles on your clit and slide them through your slick folds pressing firmly against your slit. His fingers were instantly covered in your wetness before he even dipped them into your pussy. 

Kendall stared into your eyes as he brought the first finger he used to spread your pussy to his lips. Sliding the digit slowly into his mouth, “Fuck! You taste so good”. Bringing his second finger to your mouth with a commanding “suck”. You gladly accepted and softly sucked on the flesh tasting yourself before Kendall removed the finger with a loud popping sound. 

He quickly moved from between your thighs to kneeling at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around your thighs and pulling your dripping pussy level to his mouth. You cried out as his lips connected directly to your exposed clit. Kendall hummed into your pussy as he tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands grasped desperately searching for something to hold onto as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. Kendall removed his firm grasp from around your hips and found your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “Fuck Ken! You’re gonna- make me cum! Please- please don't stop!” You cried out, squeezing his hands harder feeling your eyes close shut. On nights when Kendall was feeling especially dominating, now is when he would completely pull away. Always trying to see how many times he could bring you to the edge before he finally gave you permission to cum. However, tonight was different. Kendall was on a mission to prove just how good he could make you feel, how bad he wanted to give you everything, that he would truly take care of you. His cock was leaking with precum appreciating every sound that left your body as he continued working your pussy. Rapidly licking at your slit and sucking on your clit until finally the knot building in your stomach released. You couldn't stop the dramatic stream of moans that left your body.

“Oh my God Ken!” 

 “Good girl” Kendall hummed as you attempted to catch your breath feeling your sensitive pussy throbbing inside. 

You yelped, as you felt Kendalls mouth return to your overstimulated clit leaving light kisses while he worked to remove his sweatpants and boxers. 

Kendall gently lifted you in both arms and softly laid you back down in the center of the bed. Taking his time to kiss you deeply as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. His chest heaving against yours as he lowered his waist. His dick finally making contact where you had been craving it most, smoothly grinding his tip in between your folds. 

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, his dark voice whispering lowly into your ear “You’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m all yours Ken.”

“And this.” Kendall moved his hands to lightly slap his dripping head against your clit, “is my fucking pussy.” His aggressive words muttered with affection and tenderness.

“It’s your pussy Kendall. Forever”

Gradually Kendall began pushing his tip into your soaking entrance, taking his time to guide his cock deeper. Halting his movements frequently to feel you stretch around him.

 “Fuck! I love you.” He grunted when his cock finally bottomed out. Dropping all his weight onto your hips, rocking deeply into you. His body was pressed so tightly against yours making you feel especially small and protected. His pelvic bone brushing against your clit with every thrust as he smoothly gained aggression.  

Breathy mumbles of “I love you too Kendall, I love you so much” left your lips. His powerful thrust sending electricity straight from your brain to your pussy and through every inch of your body. The sound of your wet pussy dripping around Kendalls cock, his warm breath brushing your neck as he moaned deeply instinctively made you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Although Kendall had intended to be soft with you tonight he couldn't stop himself from pounding into you ruthlessly. He could feel your pussy tightening around his cock with each thrust signaling you were close to cumming once again. 

“Fuck baby! Why are you so fucking wet for me huh? Does it turn you on knowing I’m gonna cum in that fucking pussy? My pretty girl, gonna have my baby?” 

He wasn’t expecting a real answer, only seeking to push you closer to cumming on his cock. He was using everything in him not to cum before you and you could feel his smooth pace become more erratic as he snapped his hips harshly against yours.

 Letting go of his tight grasp around your body to balance with his forearms on either side of your head. Holding your face with his hands, pressing his forehead lightly atop yours. 

“You want my fucking cum?” He questioned, doing his best to maintain a firm tone as he held back his orgasm.

“Yes Ken! I want your cum, baby! Please!” you cried out.

“Tell me where you want it. Tell me where you want me to cum baby”. He was fucking into you at a brutual pace watching as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck! In my pussy Ken, please cum inside me!” you pleaded as his words drew you to your second orgasm. That was all Kendall needed to hear before he was releasing deep inside you with a powerful thrust. It felt as if you could feel his cum hitting your cervix as he maintained his rough pace, fucking his cum deeper into you. Kendall could feel his orgasm rushing through his entire body, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching, as he felt your nails drag down his back and your pussy squeezing around him. Milking every ounce of pleasure. 

Kendall slowly pulled out you with a deep sigh. The loss of contact, already causing you to feel empty. You were yearning for him to reach out his arms again and pull you into a deep hug. Kendall traced his fingers lightly over your stomach, remaining silent as he studied every inch of your body before dropping to lay down on his back next to you. “Is he already regretting this?” You thought to yourself as Kendall laid silently staring up at the ceiling. You could feel you heart slowly sinking, letting out a soft sigh as you sat up and began shuffling off the bed. Your movements, quickly interrupted by Kendall reaching to pull your body into his lap. Straddling him, his toned arms pulled you into him tightly. Your chests rose and fell in sync as you both breathe in deeply. You feel Kendalls chests begin to vibrate beneath you and he lets out a loud chuckle, brightly exclaiming “We’re gonna have a fucking baby!”

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

For my own entertainment I wish the weird man to weird man mental communication in bnha was unhelpful, to the point it showed both Tomura and Deku the most useless but funny (maybe even the small and horrifying) memories they own.

I want to know the silly things. How lame Tomura was at first when he started playing video games. How many times Deku fell on his ass when he was training to control OFA. Want them to realize that they had the same favorite show when they were little kids. I want them to be the loser nerds they both are, for their feelings of inadequacy to mix 'til they can see their reflection in each other.

Mind sharing the big events is cool and all, but it's the little things that made them so similar, at least similar enough to understand where their paths changed along the way.

Deku gets glimpses of Tomura's teenage years and realizes he never ever talked to other people his age except from texting in videogame chats. You could say that Dabi and Toga were his first "friends" in around 15 years... Meanwhile, Tomura gets glimpses of how many times Deku was told to kill himself over the years 'cause he didn't have a quirk, how many times he went home rejected, forgotten, humiliated.

Kid Deku and teen Tomura watching the same All Might video in different pcs in different rooms and sitting on different chairs. Wondering why he was not enough to be saved / wondering when would it be his turn to save people and make them smile. Deku and Tomura walking the streets alone, one of them looking at the wonders of the world in the sky while the other keeps his eyes on the ground to mitigate the hatred of the world flowing in his veins. Deku and Tomura eating alone, researching alone, breaking down on a corner where no one can see it, because there's no one to listen to their burdens and no one to understand their hurt and no one who would see past the superficial, no one who would look at them and say "hey, this kid can do whatever he want to do in life, he was made for greatness!"

Kid Tomura playing with Nomus to not play alone. Kid Deku memorizing random facts in the hope to impress his peers, but they never talk to him. The last time Tomura was hugged at 5 years old. Deku in his almost-vigilante era, cold, lonely and tired of carrying the weight of the world in his shoulders at 17 years old. All the injuries Tomura got used to because he couldn't care less about the pain at that point in time. All the times Deku almost lost an arm trying to prove he belonged at UA with all the other future heroes. The anxiety of sitting in the backyard through the rain, watching how your family is dry and safe inside the house, not you; you have no place among them. The anxiety of a bedroom that no other kid visits, a collection of All Might toys to no one to play with, no one to share your joy or sadness, no one who cares 'bout you besides your mom.

I want them to share the little things, stupid and funny and joyful, depressing and heartbreaking. I want them to share all the moments no one else knows about— to peek behind the curtains that mark them as heroes and villains, but also behind the person they project to their friends and all the people on their side. Like I said before, I know that the big moments are important. It's just that for me, the details make it so much meaningful...

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

That was so beautifully written! I thought the line 'He wants to talk to his friends so desperately until conversation starts, then conversation exhausts him, and each kind word or piece of advice peels all of his raw wounds open and rubs them down with salt' so perfectly captured that feeling of feeling so sad, stuck and heartbroken that I think so many people can relate to (particularly as somebody who has struggled with depression for most of their life).

I can't wait to see their next interaction! Curious to know why James hasn't seemed to have acknowledged Lily's Frasier post, the fact he didn't mention it makes me very intrigued!

I was wondering what he meant when he said "he doesn't like Skylar all that much.", did he mean in a attraction sort of way or more generally? I really like the way you have written her as a character but have always felt that James has never been actually that invested in the friendship but let himself get carried along with it as he was too polite to say otherwise.

Thank you so very much you wonderful person! It's really nice to know that my perspective on heartbreak is relatable to others including yourself (although I am truly sorry for the reason why and wish you all of the love and healing that you deserve) as I was worried that I'd get "it's overdramatic" as feedback. I've only had my heart broken once before, but that was how I felt at the time, so I put it into words as best I could. It made me feel really good to read your words and I hope it makes you feel good to know how appreciated they are, and how validating it was to read them.

I have some answers for you! Re: the Frasier post, James didn't acknowledge it for the same reason that Lily didn't acknowledge his, because he couldn't satisfy himself 100% that it was meant for him. He also has a habit of being quite passive in general, a habit that the last act of this story (aka the act we're now in, now that it's "tomorrow") is going to see him working to change.

Re: Skylar, if James is honest with himself, the best thing he can say about Skylar is that he doesn't dislike her. She's a very forceful person who thinks she knows what everyone wants and needs and she assumed, without seeking confirmation, that he enjoyed her company so much purely because she enjoyed his. I remember reading an interview with Daniel Radcliffe where he said he worried a bit about Rupert Grint because if some random person asked Rupert to go to their house, he'd probably just agree to it, and that's James exactly. James has been agreeable and polite and, again, passive! His passivity affected his relationship with his mum because when he tired of her controlling behaviour he vanished on her rather than confront her, and his passivity led to Skylar snatching a much bigger role in his life than he ever would have chosen. But thanks to her he's becoming aware of it now, which is ultimately going to be great for him. She taught him a very valuable lesson, but that still doesn't mean he'd be overly psyched to spend time with her in future. He doesn't find her particularly fun.

(Remember in my opening author's note where I said that this fic was going to be short, quick and fluffy? Clearly I was setting myself up for embarrassment because I cannot stop myself from overthinking these crazy kids and their motivations. Oops?)

[bellofthemeadow]

Summer of '03 | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlists, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: You finally arrive in Texas, a world so different from your home in New York. You find that living next door is a man who confuses you. You can't figure out if he's just a stereotipically angry Redneck or the man of your dreams. Ah well, you've got the summer to figure the puzzle that is Joel Miller.

Notes: Hello everyone, welcome to my new story :D This one is going to be quite different from my last story as I am delving into the realm of enemies to lovers! I am so excited as I don't think that any other PedroBoys fits the bill las well as Joel Miller!!! LMK what you think of it, I always love to read what you think of my work and I would also be really stoke to speak with all of you.

I am also working on a taglist at present, so I should make a post probably tomorrow, so if you want to be added to the tagged post, let me know and I'll be happy to add you!

Hope you all enjoy :D

Welcome to Texas

Apparently, your entire life fits neatly into an 8x6 cardboard box, which is somewhat embarrassing. When you made the spontaneous decision to uproot your life and leave New York, little did you know that packing would only take 25 minutes and leave you with so little. However, every item inside that box was a testament to your independence. You had purchased each item with your hard-earned money, not relying on your parents or receiving them as gifts from an ex-boyfriend. Every single thing inside that box was truly yours.

As you set down the box in front of the small suburban house, you squint your eyes taking in your new home for the foreseeable future. You had to admit, it had a certain charm that you found refreshing. The tiny house was a stark contrast to the high-rise condo your family had in New York or the overly opulent summer home in the Hamptons where you’d spend your summer. This place felt nice and quaint, exuding a sense of simplicity that you were craving. The row of houses boasted a similar style, either one or two floors tall, constructed with reddish-coloured brick. The driveways were impressively large, accommodating even bigger trucks. It really does seem like 'everything is bigger in Texas'.

Everything about this neighbourhood screamed quiet suburbia. Since it was still early afternoon on a Sunday, you spied some kids zooming down the street on their bikes like a wild bunch of Tasmanian devils, while a cluster of older ladies powerwalked on the sidewalk and seemed deeply engrossed in their gossip. The sight made you chuckle, they kind of looked like a swarm of salmon with their pink velour tracksuit. You were kind of impressed. In this heat, the only thing you wanted to do was lie down on the cold floor for at least two hours or stick your head in the freezer for a minute—the jury was still out. But that was probably because of your New Yorker sensibilities. Most of the people you spotted going about their day seemed completely unfazed by what you would categorize as temperature from at least the 4th circle of hell.

You sighed and put your arms high above your head, interlacing your fingers and giving your back a much-needed stretch. As depressing as the sight of the lone cardboard box holding your entire life was, you were glad that you didn't have a lot of stuff to take with you from New York. The drive had been almost unbearable. As a New Yorker, you didn't have many opportunities to drive that often, and this trip had actually been the first time you had driven your brand-new Alfa Romeo GT. It was a Christmas gift from your grandma, chosen for both sentimental and practical reasons, and you decided to take it with you as you up hauled your life to literally the other end of the country.

No one in your family had understood why you wanted, no, needed to leave, except for Granny Mabel. While your parents scolded you as if you were still a pigtailed little girl, timidly requesting seconds at dinner, Granny Mabel simply glanced at you, winking beneath her oversized Givenchy glasses, as she took a generous sip of her red wine. In that fleeting moment, you knew that no matter what unfolded, you would have the approval of the lionesses of New York’s Upper East Side.

But after what felt like three days of almost non-stop driving, you were ready to declare that you didn't even want to look at your car for at least a week. You felt like you had your share of driving to last you a lifetime. Although you knew that wouldn’t really be possible. After all, Texas was not known for the same kind of public transportation as New York. Ah well, when in Rome—or in this case, Texas.

As a few neighbours started to cast curious glances your way, you became aware of the possibility that loitering around an empty porch on an early Sunday afternoon might raise suspicions. You opened your handbag and rummaged through it, moving aside packages of half-eaten candy bars, a couple of lipsticks, emergency wet wipes, and tampons before you finally found the paper your friend Robbie had given you before you left three days ago.

Scrawled in your friend's messy chicken scratch, were an address and a name: "Joel Miller." Beneath it, a hasty note explained, "Joel was Great Aunt Ruth's neighbour. He was helping her with the property ever since he and his daughter moved in next door. We asked him to hold onto the keys until someone could come to take care of the house after Aunt Ruth passed away. Joel knows you're coming. Take care, my dear, and I'll miss you. New York won't be the same without your judgy ass!"

A smile spread across your face as you read the words. Robbie had been the most important part of your life in New York. You both met during your first year of college. You were studying pre-med, while he pursued performing arts at NYU, dreaming of a future on Broadway. Instantly, you connected with each other. Despite your family's legacy of surgeons, you had always yearned to be on the stage. So, in your first year, you took a theatre elective and met Robbie. The two of you became inseparable. His apartment in Brooklyn provided a refuge from the suffocation you felt at home, and you ended up spending most nights there. By the fourth month of your friendship, you even started contributing to some of the utilities, although Robbie insisted you didn't have to. But you didn't mind. Your parents had money, and you used a lot of hot water, so it was the least you could do.

And now, here you were, on the other side of the country, ready to take a break and maybe have some fun! You silently prayed to any gods out there, hoping they would listen and guide you toward figuring out what you truly wanted in your life. Happiness seemed to be slipping away with each passing day, and you hoped this summer would bring some clarity. You looked back down at the piece of paper, making a mental note to call Robbie once you got inside the house to thank him and reassure him that you were alive after that long trip.

For now, you needed to escape the scorching heat before you melted away. Your hair was beyond recognizable because of the frizz humidity brought out, and sweat patches were forming under your armpits. You cringed at the situation but tried to reassure your growing anxiety: "Who cares what Joel Miller thinks? You thought. You've been through more embarrassing moments than being sweaty in front of a middle-aged dad." Memories of laugh-snorting vodka cranberry all over your crush Colin Robertson's shirt at a post-finals party two years ago came rushing back. You were convinced you had permanently stained his favourite white Lacoste polo with cranberry, judging by the disdainful looks he had given you ever since. So, dealing with a middle-aged redneck should be a breeze in comparison.

You hurriedly made your way to the neighbouring house, desperately hoping that Joel Miller would be there. The thought of being stuck outside indefinitely made you want to cry. You tugged at your jean shorts, which clung uncomfortably to your sweaty thighs, and adjusted your oversized "1991 - Walt Disney" t-shirt, a hand-me-down from your older brother. You tied it in a knot at the front, revealing a sliver of midriff. It dawned on you that you needed to buy more weather-appropriate clothes—an item added to your ever-growing to-do list.

As you stood in front of Joel Miller's house, you hesitated. What if Robbie had forgotten to inform him about your visit? Would Joel think you were some kind of psychopath? He’d definitely think you were a little crazy. Taking a deep breath, you firmly knocked on the wooden front door. When, after a solid minute, there was no response, a sinking feeling of disappointment washed over you, suggesting that Joel Miller might not be home after all. You decided to try ringing the doorbell—once, twice. As you debated whether to attempt a third ring or call Robbie, you heard noises from behind the door, followed by a loud exclamation, "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, give me a minute!"

You felt yourself turning pale, and you began fidgeting with your rings, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen next. The door was ripped open, and your temperature skyrocketed as you faced the man in front of you. Joel Miller was... not what you expected. He loomed before you, tall and imposing, with a mess of dishevelled brown hair crowning his head. What you first noticed was the broadness of his shoulders, it made your mouth go dry as you started to imagine what it would feel like to hold these shoulders in the throws of passion. You could almost picture yourself under him, naked and sweaty, holding unto him and leaving kitten scratches on his powerful back. Your eyes started to take the man in front of you, he was clad in low-hanging sweatpants, his powerful thighs and defined waistline were accentuated. Your gaze was transfixed on him, unable to look away. You were certain you spotted what had to be an impressive bulge in the front of his thin pants and you wanted nothing more than the check if he was as well endowed as he seemed to be. Joel Miller was a man unlike any you had encountered before, emanating a potent blend of masculine confidence and ruggedly handsome charm. You felt insignificant and childlike in your own outfit. What would he think of your sweat-soaked Disney shirt, your perspiring face, and your overall dishevelled appearance? You wished you could rewind time and change into one of your nice little baby-doll dresses, the one that deliciously played on innocence and sinful seduction, you always felt your most confident in them. At least, you wished you had freshened up before meeting this man. Your mother had always emphasized the importance of first impressions, and now, as you observed the fury in his warm brown eyes, it seemed like you had utterly shattered any chance of making a favourable first impression.

The deep baritone of his voice snapped you out of your reverie, as he demanded, "Who the hell are you?" You stammered, "Ehh, I am so sorry to bother you..."

"You better not tell me you some kinda salesman? 'Cause if ya woke me up from the only full sleep I’ve had in two weeks to sell me some bullshit air conditioning, Imma get real fuckin' mad!” You gulp and squirm under his angry stare. "I reckon the appropriate term is salespeople, to be inclusive, you know." Your voice squeaks in an embarrassing sound. What the hell was wrong with you? You weren't some kind of shrinking violet, but at this moment, under Joel Miller's hard stare, you felt like dying. Or at least digging a hole and hiding inside.

"I am really sorry to bother you, Mr. Miller," you try to muster a modicum of confidence, "I am a friend of Robbie Levitt." When Joel's face remained impassive, you felt like it was his permission to keep going. "He is… was Ruth Kaplan's nephew… ehh, the lady who lived…"

"I know who Mrs. Kaplan is," Joel Miller cuts you off and stares at you, squinting his eyes. "You that rich kid from New York?" You feel yourself groan inside, fucking Robbie babbling about your business to everyone. As much as you loved the guy, he was a complete gossip. You simply nod your head, feeling quite unable to say anything, completely tongue-tied.

"You’re late," Joel Miller's words are biting and sharp, and they are cutting into you, making you feel small and childish. "Late for... what? I'm not sure I follow," you say softly.

Joel Miller sighs loudly and shakes his head. "That Levitt kid told me you'd be here yesterday evening, waited late for you to come around, princess." You feel yourself grow even hotter, either from the embarrassment of seeming flaky or from the nickname; you aren't sure yet.

"Oh," you softly say. "I am sorry, I didn't realize. Robbie just said to be here over the weekend. I didn't realize you'd wait for me."

"So , what? You thought that because you some kind of rich important lady from the city you could waste my time? ‘Cause I’m just some redneck contractor from Texas, right? Who cares if you waste everyone’s time, imma right?” His stare is hard and you don’t know what to do or say without making him even more mad. “It’s not like that, I never thought… I am really sorry.” You settle for, thinking it’s your best bet so as to not antagonize him further.

A low growl, “It's fine," he responds curtly and abruptly. It doesn’t sound fine; you think as he looks like he is 5 seconds away from slamming the door in your face. But my god, everything about this man is hard, his words, his face… his body. You don't know if you should love it or hate it, but as your eyes fall to his hard pectorals you feel yourself falling into the former category. "Wait here." He disappears inside his house before returning with a set of keys he promptly drops into your hands. "Here you go."

"Thank you ever so much, Mr. Miller. And I am really sorry again about last night… And for waking you up and everything" You cringe as a dismissive twitch of the head serves as his feeble reply. As you pivot away, trudging along in a pitiful display of humiliation toward Ruth's house, the air fills with Joel Miller’s deep voice once again “Here's a life tip, sweetheart. When someone doesn't answer the door, maybe ya need to take a hint. Not all of us can afford endless days off or live in a rent-free house. Some of us have real jobs, princess, and those of us that do appreciate every bit of peace we can get.”

You feel like crying, tears gathering up in your eyes, but you won't let them fall. You won't give Joel Miller the satisfaction of knowing that he made you cry. So, you settle, "Sure... I apologize for everything. I didn't mean to be a bother." No answer, so you take it as your cue to leave, feeling dismissed like a child at school.

You turn around and try to muster your best fake smile, the same one you used for your mother and father and give a little wave. "Hope you can get back to sleep soon. I'll make sure to not be in your way again." And you scurry away as fast as your legs can.

Summer of fun and discovery is off to a great start, you think sarcastically, as you rip Aunty Ruth’s door open and let the tears fall. Goddamn it, why did you have to antagonize the most handsome man you'd ever seen in your entire life? Joel Miller, you think. You should despise him. He was unnecessarily mean and condescending. Sure, you had been in the way, but how were you to know he would be sleeping at 1 pm on a Sunday? You groan, at this point anyway, he probably loathed you. Yet, strangely enough, you had never encountered a man who could twist your insides as intensely as he did. In the 5 minutes conversion you had with him, you felt your inside growing hot and your belly erupting in a million of butterflies. You wonder what his eyes would be like if they weren’t hard and angry. They were brown and warm, so you imagined how they would feel raking over your skin with longing or desire. Yeah, that’s not going to happen, you think as your mind cringes back to the awful words he said.  

Joel Miller. Even the mere sound of his name left a strong, lingering flavour in your mouth. You squirm, feeling conflicted, not knowing whether to yearn for his strong domineering presence or simply try your best to avoid him like the plague this summer. You shake your head, you'll sort out your feelings, or whatever hormones this man triggered, later. Right now, you just need to find the damn freezer and try to cool down. However, after meeting Joel Miller, you're well aware that the fire inside you will continue to burn hard for some time.

Next Chapter

[harpieisthecarpie]

tbh One of the many things I don't like about beauty culture (particularly anti-aging and weight loss) is how immutable it makes our bodies out to be. It makes Beauty a linear path, and even temporary deviation from that path is warned against, because "you know you'll never look the same after, right?"

You need to develop a skincare routine early because if you get bad acne that'll leave acne scars.

(What's wrong with acne scars? My brother has acne scars.)

You need to watch your weight because even if you lose it, you'll still have the stretch marks.

(What's wrong with stretch marks? My brother has stretch marks on his back from puberty. My aunt has stretch marks from giving birth to my cousin.

I have stretch marks, and I don't mind them. I don't mind being fat, either.)

You shouldn't get weird piercings or shitty tattoos, those marks are never really gone.

(What's wrong with piercings and tattoos? My favorite teacher had a Tweety Bird tattoo on her ankle, it's one of her only features I remember. My first dormmate at university showed me all her stick n' pokes, and told me all the stories behind them.

My cousin was afraid to tell our grandpa about his tattoos, but he was excited to show them to me. Now he asks if I like the designs every time he plans a new one.

The cashier who stopped wearing gauges was nice, why do you care about their ear lobes?)

Don't get plastic surgery, it ages you and makes you look weird. And you can't undo it, ever.

(What's wrong with people who've had plastic surgery? A few of my tias had it before I was born. That's the only way they've ever looked to me. My friend got her nose restructured to help her breathe. My friend gets botox for her chronic migraines. My friend got work done, you aren't owed a reason.

You say you hate toxic beauty standards but you mock the people that buckle under them. Why don't you focus on the industry making money from pain, instead of criticizing the people its hurt?)

Don't frown, you'll get wrinkles. Don't squint, you'll get wrinkles. Don't skip any part of this 26 step skincare routine, or you'll get wrinkles.

(My grandparents have wrinkles. My parents have wrinkles. My teachers had wrinkles. My coworkers have wrinkles. Scientists and poets and athletes and truckers and artists and blue collar workers have wrinkles, too.

When I'm afraid I'll never be accepted, I remember who has wrinkles. Trans people who transitioned young. Trans people who transitioned last year. My family correcting each other on my name. A parent seeing my pronoun pin and subtly teaching their kid that I'm worthy of respect. And that they're safe to be themselves, no matter what.

"Do you wanna ask the nice librarian for their help finding a book? I'm sure they'd love to help."

What a beautiful thing to hear. What a beautiful person. What beautiful crows feet and smile lines and forehead wrinkles. I hope I live long enough to have those.)

[cw: references to self-harm and sh scars below, ends at next bold]

Worrying about the scars was never the thing that stopped me from self harming. If anything, it made my depression worse.

Before and after and during, I'd think "I'm sorry future me, if there is one. I know these will just be horrible reminders. I know they'll make us ugly. I know they'll make us unloveable. I know you'll look back and hate me for this. I know I'm being selfish, but I don't know how else to survive."

It's almost funny, how none of that is true. I usually don't even notice my scars at all. They're faded enough no one else does either, but I'm comfortable bringing them up, if I want to. They're not notable, just part of my skin.

Sometimes I run my fingers over my silvery scars to feel the healing I never thought would happen. I never thought they'd get to fade.

[cw for sh references ends]

I told my therapist that I used to hate the thought exercise of "what would you do if you met your younger self?" because I hated myself so much it extended into the past. And I didn't want my future self to be so arrogant as to like themselves.

Then my therapist asked me the question, of course. "What would you do if you met your younger self?"

And I said I'd laugh and let them get a punch or two in, because I knew they'd want to. I said I'd hug them and tell them "It's okay if you hate me, I don't mind. But I don't hate you, and you can't stop me."

So, yeah, I don't like how beauty culture makes being alive so linear, so definitive. I always heard about the marks on my body that they knew I'd regret. Like my body was a tally of my failures.

A person changes countless times throughout their life, and those changes are rarely permanent. You change your favorite song, your fashion style, your career, your beliefs, your family, your sleep schedule.

You feel better. You feel worse. You feel better again. You feel the worst you've ever felt. You feel okay. You feel happy. You feel guilty about feeling happy. You feel, constantly, for your entire life, and you can't force one feeling to stick.

Your body is no different, it will change along with you, no matter what. Don't punish yourself when it does.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Hello! Here are some Debbie asks 💖 -

1. Favourite/least favourite Debbie relationship (can be romantic or platonic)?

2. Storyline you wish Debbie had?

3. Underrated Debbie moment?

4. Where do you see Debbie in five years time?

5. Best Debbie outfit/look?

6. First line that comes to your head when you think of Debbie? (Could be a line she says or one someone says about her)

7. Funniest/saddest/best Debbie moment?

8. Favourite fanfic or fanart or gifset about Debbie?

9. How did you feel about Debbie’s ending?

10. Five words to describe Debbie?

yay hi calli!

my favorite relationship debbie was in would probably be debbie x sandy (sebbie), but only pre-11x05 before they were ruined. and my least favorite relationship would probably be heidi? her character was brought in so randomly and in an obvious attempt to slander debbie more. i would say that my least favorite would be a relationship that she had with any of the guys she was with, but i don’t really count those since she was a lesbian and underage for most of those relationships.

i don’t really know how to answer this… there are a few storylines that shameless started for her and just didn’t bother to explore so i guess i’ll say those. (this is depressing sorry) in 4x07, debbie’s friend convinces her to self harm, and she does. season 4 debbie is very interesting because she explores abandonment issues, peer pressure, and grooming, which are all important issues. i think that the shameless writers got over her self harm too fast, and i think that it could have been interesting to see them talk about that, because it is an issue that many struggle with (although ian did also struggle with it in 5x10). i also wish that we got a scene where debbie talks to her siblings about how they treat her. in season 11, they mistreat her a lot, but it’s all for comedic purposes so nobody really talks about it, but i wish she or someone else would stand up for her.

every debbie moment is an underrated one if you ask me, lol. i think an underrated one may be when she bought a snake and put it in matty’s girlfriend’s car. it was so evil and maybe people hate her for it but i just found it funny. also, when she lied to jimmy-steve and said it was her birthday for free food. she’s iconic.

five years from now or five years from the finale? i’m gonna go with five years from the finale, which is 2026. i see debbie doing well. adult liam in hos says that they all end up doing well, and yes, he’s talking about a time far more in the future, but in season 11 debbie’s business was successful so i’ll say that she is. i think that she and franny will stay in the gallagher house, and i hope that debbie will get some therapy because she desperately needs it, especially if she has a ten/eleven year old kid. i want her to find a good girlfriend, maybe it’s sandy, maybe it’s not. idk. really all i hope is that she’s doing well mentally, franny’s thriving, they have a house, and debbie does everything is still going well.

hm… well, the wedding dress in 10x12 is the first thing that comes to mind. she looks fabulous and she’s doing it for the sake of gallavich, which we love. if it’s not that, it’s probably one of her other looks in season 10, because i think that was her best era fashion wise (and in general, honestly. that was her redemption arc, john wells just fucked it up), so probably the black dress with the leather jacket that she wore while convincing ian to get back with mickey, or the red dress she was trying on.

6. (the bullets got messed up😭), well, for lines, “you do not f with debbie gallagher!!!!” (after attempting to drown a girl who bullied her for being a closet lesbian), “you can’t drink him away, mickey. it won’t work”, (after convincing mickey to go back to ian, because my girl loves her family and is the biggest gallavich fan in the whole show).

7. funniest would probably be the, “you do not f with debbie gallagher!” thing, but also when she kidnapped that kid and was questioned by the police, specifically because the scene was just little clips of her talking and one was like, “yes i would like a cookie”, it was just so funny i love her. for saddest, i’d have to say hitting frank with a bag full of soap and then sobbing into her pillow, crying when she knew that derek left her, or when she was screaming at derek’s mother’s house and consoling franny even though franny couldn’t hear- i died inside a bit when i watched that scene. her best moment was any moment she helped out her siblings (which happens a lot, contrary to what debbie antis who think that she’s selfish think), like coming to mickey’s house to get him back, somehow getting ford up on a billboard so that fiona could shoot paintballs at his ass, creating a distraction at the gallavich wedding, and pranking kelly with carl- there’s a few more but those are my personal favorites.

8.i have a few favorite fics, like definitions by the lovely @astaraels, the sun; a little to the left, and familiar patterns by the also lovely, @aceyanaheim. this is probably my favorite gifset, and i don’t really know a lot of debbie fanart- but probably anything that @deedala did because she loves debbie also and is an amazing artist.

9. how did i feel about it… well, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I FUCKING HATED IT. i really hated every characters ending, gallavich’s ending was fine but there were also some things about it i didn’t really love. i’ve made really long posts about my issues with this ending, but to summarize: in s10, john wells attempted to make a debbie redemption arc, which is why there isn’t a lot of debbie hate in that season. many people liked her that season, esp because of 10x12. but then, in s11, we’re expected to believe that everyone hates debbie, (*cough* ian *cough*), and we hear her called a “terrible mom” a “loser” “annoying” etc. also, frank’s parting words to her were horrible and mean! i would start bawling if i were her, and i get that it’s frank, but still. also, they ruined sebbie and replaced it with a toxic person who we know debbie is only dating as a form of self sabotage. i have so much more to say, but that’s it simplified.

10. strong, selfless, ambitious, caring, loving, determined, chaotic, independent, creative, helpful.

💋

[seizethedeansofproduction]

Everything everywhere all at once winning best picture and all the other awards makes me very emotional. From a representational standpoint yes. But I guess also from a filmmaker standpoint.

(I KNOW THIS IS LONG BUT IF YOU COULD READ THIS, THAT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD)

I’ve been making films for 10 or so years and for many years never saw much outward success. I would put my all into a project, down to hand making the sets, costumes, editing it myself (etc), but when I would submit to festivals for kid filmmakers, I would be left heartbroken sitting in the theater knowing that my film wasn’t good enough. That is had been too weird, not shot on a good enough quality camera, and that it simply wasn’t the “type of film” that could win awards.

Then enter this film. It marched to the beat of its own drum, it told a story that was authentic and sincere, it told a story about a Chinese immigrant and her family (A STORY WHICH RARELY GETS TOLD TO A MASS AUDIENCE IN MAINSTREAM HOLLYWOOD), it told a story about a queer woman struggling with family issues and depression and suicide, it gave no fucks, it gave them all. It was goofy. It was chaotic. It was heart wrenching. It was everything.

I’m a filmmaker, but I’m also sometimes a cynic. At times I am worried about the future of creative fields I hope to enter given AI threatening real artists, the increasing difficulty to break into Hollywood with no connections, and of course a litany of reboots, sequels, and franchises (not to say that this is bad, but there’s a tiny part of me that fears that this is all it will end up being. At least in terms of studio funding). I worry that while I may make films now, there may not be a place for me one day.

Seeing this film changed that. EEAAO was so boldly itself that it relit my creative spark to make work that would do the same.

And of course the awards. 

If you had told me a couple years ago that a film about rocks and hotdog fingers would win best picture, I would have been confused then probably laughed. Even as the award season beast was beginning to awaken from it’s year long slumber, I remained skeptical that this film would get awards, much less hundreds of them. Yet it destroyed the competition and with every win and every speech, my heart got a bit more full and damn it, I believed that maybe there was a chance this film could take the title.

Last Sunday, I wasn’t able to watch the oscars. I had just gotten over being sick and needed the sleep. The next morning I woke up and by some stroke of fate the people on the radio were talking about the Oscars, I held my breath, and I heard it. Best Picture Winner Everything Everywhere All At Once. I later watched the acceptance speeches that day and wept. This meant the world to me now but also to the me years ago who sat in those theaters with a broken heart thinking that their movies weren't good enough.

Now of course you can still be a cynic (or a realist who knows?) and assume that this changes nothing. No needle was moved. And next year the films getting awarded and produced with tons of eyes on them will be the next Green Book or whatever. But if this movie’s taught me anything, its that feeling optimism is ok.

And yeah given all it's wins, people are probably now gonna rag about it and say it's overrated. They can have their opinions, but I don't care. Like what you want to like, life's too short.

I’m gonna keep on making movies, the kind of movies I want to make not what I try to make to win awards or impress other people. I’m gonna try to be a kinder person. I’m going try to keep on telling stories of queer people, of found families, of hope, of comedy, and of whatever else I can think of. I’m gonna hope that people continue to create just as they always do and that this time they get the attention, platform, and opportunities that they deserve instead of it going to those who don’t.

Thank you Michelle Yeoh. Thank you Stephanie Hsu. Thank you Ke Huy Quan. Thank you Jamie Lee Curtis. Thank you James Hong. Thank you Paul Rogers. Thank you Jonathan Wang. Thank You Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert. Thank You Everything Everywhere All At Once.

You changed my life and countless others. Thank you thank you thank you.

[purplemortuary]

So hello... again

I got lost it seems, my apologies although I know nowadays nobody reads this blog posts but I like to have a space to share my thoughts. When I was a kid I used to write so many stories, I had the biggest imagination and teachers would read my stories out loud. As in today I merely write songs and my thoughts here, so... journaling? I wonder what happened to my story ideas... maybe I got them all out as a kid and now I'm empty... anyways that's not what I wanted to talk about.

I've been quite low lately entering in an episode of bad mood and grumpiness which I hate. I've been working like crazy still not knowing what's gonna happen with my freelance clients which means stress is a core part of me as in "hey today you have money but tomorrow you won't be able to pay rent" and haven't had time to update completely my portfolio so that's fun. Little impostor syndrome is there too telling me "nobody's gonna hire you anyway, they'll think you're not qualified" and that's scary because most times I believe it.

I've been watching a show called Maid on Netflix while working and found it so interesting, obviously I can't relate to the part of being a single mum leaving an abusive partner but I can relate to having to separate from a partner, keeping the two cats we adopted together, not having anywhere to go and barely any money. And I slowly got better conditions, even better food for the three of us. And just like the protagonist it is ups and downs but we gotta keep moving right? I'm not in any way comparing myself to the protagonist because she has a lot going on and sometimes surprises me how much calm she is and just keeps fighting for herself and her daughter.

I find that sometimes it's useless to look for reasons and doing a self-phylosophy class with ourselves about how unfair the world is... sometimes we just have no choice but to keep moving forward and pushing ourselves. I'm quite depressed right now (not clinically I hope) and I find myself staring at walls cathatonically like I haven't in ages but I have to keep working, I have to feed me, feed my cats, clean the house, even if sometimes we suffer we must do things because we just have to. This is earth not heaven nor hell, can be both and sometimes just one at a time. I don't wanna waste my time thinking "what is my purpuse" or "I came to earth just to suffer" or "why couldn't I have it easier and my friends and family too", reality is that there is no purpuse and we can set ideas for the future and keep going.

That's what I've realised in these past weeks I've been quite self-isolated as the Manifesting Generator Herectic Investigator I am. I realised that I hear all the time people and even myself questioning everything and trying to find answers but sometimes we just have to accept reality and do the things we must do.

I find happiness in waking up and seeing my cats' faces, they are the closest I'll have to children and I worry about them all the time, many of the things I do are to buy them good food and other amenities. I buy good cheap food for me too, I was able to save so much money these months like never before in my life but the sad part of it is that I'm just doing it because I know maybe tomorrow a design client will say "no more" and I'll have to live out of those savings for maybe 2 months max. I'm saying it because I wish I was saving for a trip to Japan or something exciting like a concert or a new place for me and the cats outside of the city or even to leave the country. Sometimes I wish I had other people's problems that wouldn't involve me not being able to pay rent. I wish that if I lost my job I'd have a place to be but there's no use in thinking that way although sometimes I give myself a pep talk on how there are people who are actually single mothers struggling to feed their kid or people who are already homeless... wish we could all be born to this earth at least with a place for us to be without having to pay nobody for existing in that space.

That's it for now, I have to wake up at 9AM and it's 3AM now I'm trying to ignore math now and pretend I'll sleep 8 hours.

Goodnight.

[elliequeen777]

Soo, today it came to my mind this dream I had like a year ago. I remember I was reading something about Damian Wayne and the Bat-family, an his character really caught my attention so I did a bit of research and found out that there is not a lot of people who like him. And I get it, he is not precisely original or charismatic and his arcs are very weird. But something that I found very interesting was the fact that every single time he has a very tragic ending, like super dramatic. He's some short of sacrificial lamb, the only way he becomes a "true" hero is by sacrificing himself. Because, for some rason, there is no way he grows up as a happy, semi-stable, sensible person. I remember thinking that was really depressing, is like he is destined to be an unstable, unhappy kid forever.

I also remember comparing his situation with some other characters that had gone through a similar situation than him, like the other robins, Cass, Raven, Terra (the one from the animated series) and even Bucky Barnes (from the comics) and Natasha. One thing led to the other and I started wondering how different could be the life of Damian if he was on the Marvel universe, specially since they are experts on rescuing children from assassin's schools (Natasha and Bucky have done it at least twice each and there is a lot more arcs around it even in the MCU, if you ask me, a little too many times, I really hope we're done with that trope).

And then I fall asleep, I don't remember the whole dream now, but I remember two things clearly: 1) Natasha was in Gotham City and 2) she was friends with Alfred. When I woke up I tried to make sense to all the information and finally I came up with a story.

I had this on the back of my brain since last Christmas and I never came to anything more than just the idea. So I resolved to put this in here and see if someone else is willing to take this idea and make something with it. If not at least I'll get it out of my mind. So please don't judge me too harsh.

Here we go:

Valerie and Franklin Richards have combined their super-abilities to create some sort of spaceship that can jump to every multiverse. Fascinated with their discovery they want to make some sort of map of the multiverse. But soon they realize that only the two of them don't give avast to such a big task. They need explorers that can help them track record of every single universe, and they have to choose them carefully. One of the chosen ones is Natasha Romanoff, who's well known for her clean and discreet work, the spy, willing to take a break of her crazy life, accepts the invitation with enthusiasm. That's how she gets to land in Earth 2, there she meets a young Alfred and their friendship starts (they keep in touch somehow).

Time passes, and at some point Nat finds herself in Gotham city again, for business. She's staying with Alfred who introduces her to Bruce and Damian. At some moment she has a conversation with Bruce where she ends up revealing something about her past in the red room. He is very intrigued by that and starts asking som questions, but she is not very comfortable sharing more information with him, so he tells her about Damian, he's very worried for his kid's future, and doesn't know how to help the kid. She sympathizes with him, but is still reluctant to open about her past and tells him that the best he can do is to love his kid and show him he cares (very basic but helpful advice, I specifically recall this dialogue: "It's great you are trying to help, Bruce, but we are not a club of «reformed trained assassins», we are not precisely happy to find more people like us").

Bruce keeps thinking about that conversation and gets to the conclusion that Damian needs someone like Nat to guide him in his healing journey. So he goes to her and asks her a favor: to please help his son. Natasha is not very sure about getting involved, but after a long conversation with Alfred and Bruce, they decide to let Damian go with Nat to her universe for three days, she will show the kid her life and the life of other "reformed trained assassins".

So that's what happens, Bruce tells Damian he's going to learn new spy skills with a professional and then leaves him in Nat's hands. They travel to the Marvel universe and Damian learns that fate is not written and that he can have whatever life he wants.

And that's it, this is all I came up with. I will really appreciate to know your thoughts about this, so please say something. Anyway thank you for reading this shit. ❤️

[thickenmyblood]

Hello! Since we’re nearing the end of HIUH, I was wondering if we’ll see Laurent’s behavior addressed in the same way Damen’s has been? I can’t wait to find out what’s going on behind the scenes, because with the limited POV we get, it feels like Laurent kinda got away with his abuse towards Damen (though I know there must be more going on that we don’t see!) Like, while Damen loses all his friends, loses Nicaise for a while, becomes seriously depressed, it’s hard to find the hints where Laurent is similarly affected and in regret of his own behavior. Is the focus of HIUH just more on Damen’s behavior since he’s the narrator? I might be misreading things, but it feels like Laurent was abusive towards Damen their whole relationship, either in taking advantage of his money at the beginning (without Damen knowing this was Laurent’s intention, in contrast to a berencel dynamic) or verbally/emotionally abusing him later on. Laurent was totally valid in wanting to protect Nicaise and breaking up for that reason, but it makes me sad that Damen never felt he should break up with Laurent or that he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Even at this point in HIUH, it feels like Damen, Laurent, and all of Laurent’s friends feel or act like Damen deserved that abuse because of his shortcomings. Maybe Laurent regrets it and is trying to improve himself, but it’s hard watching Damen be painted as the “bad guy” by other characters while Laurent, who genuinely abused him, is seen as the one who got “free” from Damen and is the one who gets a new relationship, support from his friends, etc. Even for a a character who can be “unjustifiably mean,” it’d be nice for someone else to call him out on it. Future chapters will probably make me rethink this interpretation, I’m sure! I’m just hopeful that if Laurent’s behavior was abusive in the way it seems, there’ll be space in your story to address it. Thanks for such a wonderful, interesting narrative :)

hello! you are not the first or only person who has asked me about this. I have chosen to reply to this particular ask because it touches on many issues and makes it "easier" for me to reply. now, my explanation:

1. will we see Laurent's behavior be addressed in the same way damen's has been?

I cannot promise the EXACT same level of detail because it did take me +260k words to get Damen here, but yes. Laurent's behavior will be addressed. however, Laurent's behavior has already been addressed multiple times throughout the fic by multiple people. neo, nikandros, and nicaise, to name a few. damen being dismissive of other characters' concerns does not mean the concerns have not been voiced.

2. was Laurent abusive towards Damen? what was the extent of that abuse? is Laurent an abuser?

as you can imagine, this is a complicated set of questions to answer because this is a sensitive topic. if you look at the list of trigger warnings on the fic, it is hard to miss the line that reads "verbal and emotional abuse". and so . . .

yes, I believe there were many moments throughout their relationship where Laurent exhibited abusive traits. he enjoys having the upper hand, because that's how he feels most in control. he is, to some degree, a control freak (which ties back to that conversation neo and Damen had VERY early on about control and how kids who have been abused sometimes try to gain that control back through other mechanisms*). there have been some clues that his uncle really enjoyed making him feel stupid and naive and like he didn't know anything about the world, and I believe he felt so deeply ashamed about this fact that he now does everything in his power to make sure he is never in that position again, that he is never the stupid one. and so that leaves him only one (toxic) role to occupy: the role of he who humiliates and makes sure to remind the other person of their own stupidity and naivety.

that is, obviously, wrong. which is what a lot of other characters (even ANCEL) have told Damen. which is what Damen will eventually bring up to Laurent himself. which will inevitably fall short in the eyes of many readers.

right now (ch17 being the last chapter up or about to go up) both the readers and Damen have every reason to believe Laurent used Damen for his own economic gain. as nikandros not so kindly put it, Laurent needed a lawyer or someone who knew excellent lawyers, someone who could pay for the fees, someone who could help him make ends meet to stay alive. this WILL be addressed in the story.

what will also be addressed in the story is the good cop vs bad cop issue. this has been HEAVILY mentioned throughout the fic, but it's basically one of the many explanations for (some) of laurent's outbursts (note: am I excusing abuse? no. let me FINISH). damen always being the one that gets to parent the fun way, the one that gets nicaise over the weekend, the one that doesn't have to say no to things because that's laurent's job. . . that's a kind of damen that laurent has grown to resent. this IS a source of tension for them and cannot be ignored if you want to see the full picture.

what i also think is important to remember is that for some of their relationship damen was in a position of power (he had money, laurent did not). damen also made A LOT of hurtful, ignorant, dismissive comments to/about laurent and nicaise (was that verbal abuse? was that emotional abuse? was it not "systematic" enough to be abusive?). the point of all this is to say: it's a very complex issue because I did not write this in a black and white manner and so I can't reply to people who expect that kind of answer from me.

3. has Laurent changed?

well, yes. his change might be unnoticeable to some, but I believe so far I've been okay-ish with showing and not telling. if you look for change, you'll find it in every conversation. he is more willing and quick to accept his wrongs, to apologize, to compromise, to co-parent, to finally speak to Damen about things he previously kept to himself both bc he knew Damen did not wish to know them and bc he himself was not ready to share them.

these final chapters will definitely show the most open version of Laurent that i have ever written. hopefully you'll understand every single choice he made (not CONDONE IT, but UNDERSTAND IT).

at this point, it's impossible for me to change some people's opinion of him. if you think he's a piece of shit that deserves to be burned at the stake, that's valid and I'm not here to throttle that interpretation out of your head. that's the beauty of writing and reading — I do my thing, and I let you do yours.

4. good guy vs. bad guy: which one is Damen and which one is Laurent?

there are no good guys and bad guys here, no villains and no heroes. every single character in this story is meant to suck as hard as real people suck, but also to be as giving and amazing as real people are. if you go into this story looking for a team to root for, you've missed my point entirely.

sometimes I struggle with enemies to lovers or getting back together or morally ambiguous character tropes. it seems to me that people who enjoy those stories oftentimes want the characters to be unlikeable up to a degree, you know? "you can suck in this fake, laboratory-bound, inorganic way that I control carefully to make sure no one feels uncomfortable, but NO, of course you're not allowed to truly and thoroughly fucking suck. that's off-putting! that's offensive! that's amoral!" well I am an off-putting, degenerate, amoral writer that writes shit fiction for people that enjoy quite a lot of blood and poison in their romance. I'm not better than anyone else, but also not worse.

5. you didn't ask this, but I want to reply to it anyway. "maca, what happens if I read all 300k words and the ending was not what I wanted bc you didn't address XYZ in a way I thought appropriate and respectful? what happens if I wasted my time bc i don't want them to be together anymore, or i do but not like this? maca, what happens if the story ends and I STILL think your characterization of Laurent is shit and you twisted Damen into something he's not? and maca what—"

nothing. nothing happens. nothing will happen. you'll leave a comment saying you didn't like it. I'll read it from my bed or my home desk or my work desk. I'll nod along to some parts. I'll laugh at others. I'll probably text one of my friends and say "what" about a line or two. you'll be upset for a while, maybe a long time. you'll write more comments. or not. you'll find another fic that you like more, that didn't disappoint you. you'll leave them a nicer comment. or not. you'll tweet something like "what a shit fic what a shit writer what a shit overall waste of my time". some people will retweet it. I'll see it, probably (i can't seem to escape stuff like that, for some reason). I'll agree. time will pass. you'll move to a different fandom. or not. you'll read better things, worse things, similar things. you'll forget. you'll misremember. you'll remember and feel rage. you'll leave another comment. or not. you'll move on. life will move on, too.

it was never that important, after all. just another fic you didn't like, or didn't get, or didn't read all the way to the end. all will be well, you'll see.

*WHICH IS NOT TO SAY ALL ABUSED KIDS BECOME ABUSERS. DO NOT TWIST MY WORDS OKAY. I'M SAYING FOR THIS VERY SPECIFIC STORY/AS AN ECHO OF CANON IT IS NOT INSANE TO ASK THESE QUESTIONS AND PRESENT THESE ISSUES.

[janeykath318]

Steve’s Christmas Miracle (Shieldshock)

“Man, Steve, you’ve got to get yourself a little holiday cheer man. This place looks like the barracks,” Sam commented, shaking his head at the lack of decor in Steve’s cabin. “I’m free to help with tree duty, if need be.”

Steve shook his head, morosely sipping a beer.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Sam. I’m not feeling it this year. I can’t do festive. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Sam frowned, a little worried about how dead Steve’s expression was. Ever since the defeat of Thanos fourteen months ago, Steve had lived like a hermit and had been very withdrawn.

“Okay. Just so you know, the offer to come to Louisiana for Christmas is still on the table. You’re sure you’re alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need the solitude this year.”

Sam didn’t fully believe him, but he didn’t push. He understood what Steve was going through. He only hoped the man wouldn’t go too far inside his shell.

“Okay, but you call me if you need anything. Take care, Steve.”

He squeezed his friend’s shoulder and quietly left, dialing Bucky on his way out the door. He’d have Bucky do another check in on Steve before the trip.

Steve sank back into his sofa and shut his eyes. He didn’t know how he’d ever be able to celebrate again. They’d won, but at a high cost. The image of Pepper weeping by Tony’s body flashed in his mind along with Clint’s grief stricken face returning from Vormir. He didn’t know how much more pain he could take.

“Agent Lewis?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Michael has an assignment for you. In his office.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Darcy nodded solemnly at her heavenly superior, but she was inwardly squealing at the thrill of finally having another assignment. It was the time of year when humans needed their help the most and she looked forward to helping bring hope to hurting souls. She’d spent her earthly life volunteering in shelters and soup kitchens during the holidays, and now she got to spend it helping reignite the joy of the season.

“Agent Lewis, you will be working with agents Carter and Romanoff on our next subject, one Steven Grant Rogers.”

Darcy’s eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut. Even she knew better than to interrupt Michael.

“Here are the files for you: Past, present, and future,” Michael handed each one a folder. Darcy noted that hers said PRESENT. Hmm, this could be interesting. “I chose you three because you all knew or interacted with Steve during your time on earth and would have unique insight into his character. Steve’s heart is still soft, unlike many of our clients, but years of hardship have left him cynical and wounded and deeply depressed. Your mission is to point him towards help and healing and remind him of life’s joy’s. It is critical that he not continue to cut himself off in his grief and drive away his friends. He may not be a Captain America anymore, but he needs to see that there is very much a place in the world for Steve Rogers. Do you understand?”

They all nodded solemnly, Peggy and Natasha giving each other knowing looks.

“Good. Mission starts on Christmas Eve. I expect you will be prepared and follow the rules.”

He stared a little longer at Agent Romanoff and Darcy hid a smile. Natasha was still new to the job of heavenly messenger and tended to meddle more than what was strictly allowed.

After they were dismissed, the three members of team Save Steve gathered in their cozy angelic staff lounge to go over their files and talk strategy.

“So, how did you know Steve?” Peggy asked Darcy, after Natasha had brought them up to date on her last memories of Steve and his mental state.

“That’s the thing. I really didn’t,” Darcy sighed. “I remember him as this skinny kid who was a regular at the diner I waitressed at. He’d always smile this beautiful smile at me, but he never said a word and let his friend do all the talking. He seemed nice, though. I feel like we might have had an encounter of some sort, but it was really close to when I died and all my memories of that day are still blocked. It’s kinda frustrating. I honestly think Michael might have found someone else who knew him better.”

“There are no mistakes,” Peggy said firmly. “You must have had more of an impact on Steve than you thought. At that time in his life, a friendly face would have meant a lot, even though he was too shy to talk to you. He didn’t have many friends and unfortunately, most strangers were bullies.”

Darcy grimaced. “Ugh. Poor Steve. This file was tough reading. How do you think he’ll react to us, Agent Romanoff?”

“Steve isn’t phased by much anymore,” Natasha answered. “But he’ll likely think he’s dreaming. He’ll be cooperative, unlike a certain person I will not name.”

She scowled and Peggy and Darcy chuckled. Natasha had just handled a particularly stubborn old codger, who’d been a lot like the infamous Scrooge. She’d proven successful, but not without a struggle.

“This sounds like it’s going to be an interesting mission,” Darcy predicted. “I’m going to have to trust that Michael put me in this for a good reason.”

“That’s the spirit,” Peggy approved. “This is my last mission with the agency and it’s a very important one. Let’s give Steve a Christmas he won’t forget!”

[veronicaleighauthor]

Band of Brothers

Today is the 79th anniversary of D-Day. A few years ago, I wrote an article/review on “Band of Brothers” for a friend’s magazine/blog. I’ve decided to post it in honor of that Day of Days, so many years ago.

~*~

“From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered - We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me; Shall be my brother…” ­– Henry V, William Shakespeare.

Over twenty years ago, the ten-part miniseries, “Band of Brothers,” was released on HBO. Following the story of 101st Airborne, Easy Company, the collaboration between Stephen Spielberg and Tom Hanks introduced us to a group of young paratroopers who embodied the phrase “the greatest generation.” A rare breed, these young men were born in the 1910’s and 1920’s, they survived the Great Depression and were being sent to war. Some were going out into the world for the first time, in hopes of liberating Europe from the Nazis. For me, “Band of Brothers” piqued my interest because my grandfather was in the airborne and he did go through Jump School as shown in the miniseries. A ten-part series offers us enough time to become acquainted with the ensemble cast of characters, based on real-life men. At the beginning at each episode, and at the end of the final episode, the real Easy Company men discuss their experiences and offer thought-provoking reflections. In a short amount of time, you fall in love with these men and care deeply about them, rejoicing when they rejoice and mourn when they mourn.

Richard Winters is a mild-mannered, reserved captain who is eager to do his part and lead his men. When he survives D-Day, he promises God that if he makes it through the war, he will live peacefully. Captain Nixon is a cocky alcoholic, doing his utmost to survive. Later, his wife leaves him, taking the family dog, whom he dearly loves. Malarkey impetuously risks his life to pick a luger off of a dead German, to give to his kid brother, and matures into a man during the course of the war. Compton makes it through many campaigns until he watches his two buddies, Joe Toye and Bill Gaurnere cruelly wounded. He is struck down by combat fatigue…which we now know is PTSD, a condition often misunderstood in that era. George Luz likes to imitate various superiors, and is always good for a laugh. Joe Liebgott is Jewish, he faces antisemitism and is crushed when learns what is really going on in Europe. Ronald Spiers is rumored to have massacred several German prisoners, and takes delight in frightening the other men. Then there is Captain Herbert Sobel, who is needlessly cruel to the men during their training at Camp Toccoa.

We come to know the “Band of Brothers” during basic and watch them transported from America to England, where they prepare for the invasion of Europe. On June 6th, 1944, the Easy Company men, and thousands of others, paratroop out of C-47s and land in France. They fight their way from village to village and town to town, receiving little support, scarce supplies, minimal rest. These are young men, in their teens, twenties, and thirties - living and dying to save the world. And to preserve the world for future generations.

Like many who fought in past wars, Easy Company is enthusiastic, believing the war would be over by Christmas. Unfortunately, at Christmas time, the company was stationed at Bastogne…they were in the middle of the Battle of the Bulge. By the time of Patton’s rescue, which the men insisted was not needed, they were near their breaking point. They began to wonder why they were fighting this war in the first place. Certainly, the Nazis were evil, but was it worth it? The men received their answer later that spring, when they, along with other companies, liberated a concentration camp. For years rumors had circulated of how the Nazis mistreated the Jews and others in their crosshairs, but to see the inhumanity with their own eyes, they were finally able to comprehend their sacrifices.

“Band of Brothers” is not for the faint of heart. Not only does it feature war scenes, we are shown graphic wounds, violence, harsh behavior, the language is extremely foul, and there are gratuitous sex scenes and various men are referenced of having extra-marital affairs. However, with the exception of “Saving Private Ryan,” I have never seen a more realistic and heartfelt depiction of what went on in WWII.

The Easy Company men went on to invading Berchtesgaden, a.k.a. The Eagles Nest – Hitler’s Bavarian retreat. After all of their turmoil, they were able to enjoy themselves a little. In May of 1945, as the men are playing a friendly baseball game, they learn the war in Europe has finally come to an end.

After the war, Nix had a couple of broken marriages and continued to struggle with alcohol – then he met a lovely woman named Grace and he turned his life around. Malarkey returned to Oregon, got a degree in business and became a real estate agent. Compton opted not to pursue a career in minor league baseball, choosing to go to law school, later prosecuting Sirhan Sirhan for the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. Luz became a maintenance consultant, and when he was later killed in an industrial accident, 1600 people came to his funeral to pay their respects. Despite what was shown in “Band of Brothers, in reality, Liebgott was not Jewish, but Catholic. For a few years after the war, he disappeared, but then resurfaced and became a barber. Spiers fought in the Korean war and then in the 1950s, he was the American governor of Spandau Prison, and guarded Rudolf Hess. Sobel was honorably discharged; he later served in the Korean War, and had a family. In 1970, he unsuccessfully attempted to kill himself, but survived and lived seventeen years longer. Following the war, Winters worked for Nixon’s family business and he also served in Korea…afterwards he did settle down, marry, and have a family... He also found a little peace.

[redyn-nerevarine]

Tagged by @bretongirlwrites for writing questions. Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14. 9 for Morrowind, 5 for Skyrim.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

148,186! I am super proud of this.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Elder Scrolls game series. I have a few of my own original works in the making that I hope to turn into books one day, all romance stories.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Chronicles of an Outlander (31), Rumors (12), Alteration Practice (9), Tales of Secunda (7), When the Nightingale Soars (6).

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Every nice comment is special to me. In fact, I screenshot nice comments about my art and writing and keep them in a folder to look at if I'm feeling down.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ever since I read The Grapes of Wrath and the sad ending pissed me off, I made sure to write really happy and fulfilling endings. But I guess the 'angstiest' would be Rumors, ending with Redyn walking away grumbling under his breath about an angry merchant, haha.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Fate's Token. I took a depressed, wandering guard with lycanthropy who lost everything, and ended the story with him having a wife and kids, a steady job, and the Nerevarine himself as his mentor :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I've written some only for myself involving Redyn, but never posted it. If I do ever post some, it won't be until I'm very confident in my smut-writing abilities.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've written?

Nope, but I enjoy reading some if they're nicely done. I would love to read a crossover of The Lord of the Rings and The Elder Scrolls.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that would be amazing.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

My Nerevarine, Redyn Othrelas, and Ciralinde, a former Altmer noble taken into slavery and rescued by Redyn. Also, Julan Kaushibael and Secunda Evergloam. They are chaotic and adorable. There's another pairing from Chronicles of an Outlander that I LOVE, but I can't tell you yet because it's a spoiler!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Oblivion fanfic. Who knows, maybe I will sometime in the future.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, since I enjoy writing it, my strong imagination, and I Iove my sense of humor that shows in the characters and goofy situations.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Combat scenes, trying to make the first draft PERFECT, and sometimes I feel like I info-dump or am too wordy.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Do you mean having a character speak a line or two in another language to demonstrate their heritage? Then yes! I love including other languages and have many plans to in Chronicles of an Outlander for languages like Velothi, Breton, and Chimeris.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The anime, Bleach, when I was like 14.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

So far, Chronicles of an Outlander.

I'll tag @changelingsandothernonsense, and whoever else wants to do this.

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

Hi I just finished reading you Afhiko peddling for the second time I just wanna say your writing style has me laying at your feet beautiful I tell you so I wanted to ask if we could get like a found family AU with Afhiko I’m thinking the children as izuku & Tomura also something fantasy Idk I’ll leave the story telling to you if you decide to take up this silly little idea :D

hi anon :) thanku for the ask and the compliments!! <33

so since youre my first writing request anon in a LONG time i will do the found family with tomura and izuku but this will be my only afohiko with either of them </3 im too much of a dad for one truther to involve izuku too much in afohiko and tomura is a whole can of worms with sorahiko so this is IT

that said im not doing fantasy, i dont write fantasy in general, sorry!!

and also i really hope u dont mind but this sparked a big brain idea to check off a bthb prompt so im gonna just. do that

@badthingshappenbingo

now with all of that out of the way:

no children (i WISH) (ao3 link)

bthb info: captive push (for my hero academia)

words: 1431

rating: T

Sorahiko doesn't think of himself as much of a parental figure. He's not responsible enough for that shit, the idea of some kid learning from him and taking up his bad habits- no, no way, he refuses to be responsible for it.

He should've figured Hisashi wouldn't agree- and he also should've figured that he wouldn't ask before finding a kid and raising it as he sees fit.

Shimura Tenko is the grandson of one of Hisashi's old enemies, the Seventh holder of One for All, and hearing how long ago his husband killed her makes Sorahiko feel much older than his body reflects. At some point, Hisashi must've snuck an immortality, or at least anti-aging, quirk into him, but he's always vehemently denied it and then followed it up with "and if I did, I wouldn't take it back!"

So he's stuck looking thirty-something like his husband, which at least made it less weird to be walking around with Tenko sitting on his shoulders when he'd been the right age for it.

Besides, if Hisashi is to be believed about the effects age would've had on his body, given his quirk, he would be stuck at Tenko's height around now, so he guesses it's not all bad- he's got to look at the bright side of things, or else he would be forcing his new kid to suffer through his new parents' divorce, no matter how many times they've done it before it'll still suck for the kid.

He's glad that he'd had the restraint not to divorce Hisashi on the spot once he'd found out about Tenko; he'd been disappearing into one of his "secret" (only a secret to people who don't handle all the paperwork, Hisashi) villain bases, a bar all the way out in Kamino. Obviously, he wasn't cheating, because the man is far too possessive of the people he considers "his" to even think about something like that, but he was still up to something that he knew damn well Sorahiko wouldn't approve of.

So he went to the bar, and found a Noumu and a kid who was given an awfully depressing name- Shigaraki Tomura.

The ensuing argument was on the uglier side of their usual fights, so for any other couple it would be of truly permanent-divorce-level of proportions. Hisashi said something about the kid being his successor in the future in his attempt to get that quirk, to which Sorahiko had simply responded,

"That is a child."

"He's got the seeds of destruction in him already! Look at his quirk- "

"He is six years old."

Hisashi had been forced to relent at that, and then he made the mistake of revealing the kid's full name and heritage, in what must have been an attempt to get to divorce number 17, and Sorahiko had practically blown another gasket.

"You're trying to tell me he just so happened to develop a highly destructive quirk that's unprecedented in his family history?"

"More quirks are unprecedented than you'd think- "

"And you just so happened across him before anyone called the cops or anything at the sight of a child covered in blood?"

"I will admit that I was monitoring the Shimura household due to their connection to the Seventh- "

"Oh, sure, monitoring, is that what we're calling it?"

"Sometimes things just go the way I want them to! That's not my fault if I take advantage!"

"So sometimes quirkless kids- and I saw his shoes, don't try and bullshit me- connected to families of your enemies just spontaneously develop convenient quirks for you? Is that how that works?"

So Tenko summarily stopped being raised as the future successor for All for One's empire, and while Sorahiko would have much rather dropped him off at the nearest police station, orphanage, or the like, he also knows Hisashi well enough that the poor kid would be stuck in a vault within a week to resume his so-called "training."

He has a kid now, and has for the past four years. Sometimes he thinks Hisashi ended up winning with that arrangement, and then he reminds himself that Tenko is still called Tenko and is being raised to be a completely normal child- or, well, as normal a child can be with two villain parents.

Unfortunately, it seems that Hisashi has stopped being quite so bitter about losing his initial plan for Tenko and has fully accepted that he has a kid now, and has summarily began quietly petitioning for another. He's glad that Hisashi's at least attempting to ask permission on this one, but the answer is still hell fucking no.

Tenko is tolerable. He's quiet, minds his own business, there's a decent foundation of mutual respect between him and the now-ten-year-old. It works, and he is not at all keen to try and fix what isn't broken. There is nothing he wants less than a new variable to be added to his current living arrangement.

None of that is relevant at this current point in time, however. Right now, Tenko is at school and he and Hisashi are doing some good old-fashioned illegitimate business.

Right now, some middling human trafficking operation is trying to get Hisashi and his empire as customers to their trade, so the both of them are meeting with the head of it. Privately, they plan on killing him and subsuming the operation into the empire, but there's always variability to these kinds of things.

The man, with an uninteresting quirk that he never bothered to memorize, has apparently brought an underling with him, and before the meeting even begins, he tells the girl to "bring in the goods."

She nods, leaves, and returns holding a chain, which has multiple sets of handcuffs like a hand-holding rope in a kindergarten classroom. Maybe he's just thinking that because in the handcuffs are all small children in various states of distress, with the oldest seeming to be in front and a little runt in the back.

Hisashi appraises them, no doubt looking for decent Noumu material, while Sorahiko very determinedly does not look over at them. He's never agreed with using children in the Noumu trials, and he's consistently fought both Hisashi and Ujiko on that point, but he can't make it seem like they're not a unified front in front of some unimportant scrappers. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he sees Hisashi's expression shift and light up, before turning to the girl- she might be young enough to still be in school, no reason for her to be doing things like this- and telling her to set "the green one" loose.

Sorahiko looks over at who she's freeing, and notes that it's the runt in the back, one who couldn't be older than five. His eyes and hair are a matching bright green, and his face is dripping in tears.

"Sora."

Oh, he knows that tone.

"No."

"Sora."

"That is the face of a child who has a mother at home. Absolutely not."

The child, upon hearing this, cries harder, and Sorahiko feels like he might have just stepped in something he should not have stepped in. Hisashi leans down, looking for all the world like he's perfectly harmless and defenseless, but unless the two adults are exceptionally stupid, they won't try anything.

"What's your name, young man?"

"I- Izuku. I don't, I- they told me Momma died, she's not at home, I don't have a home, I'm sorry- "

Oh, great, now he feels bad. The child breaks down sobbing in response to Sorahiko's brazen comment, and Hisashi looks over at him with a face that is somehow even more pathetic than the literal children in chains.

"Fine. No more."

He will hold Hisashi to that. This is the last kid that he will help raise, he fucking promises. If Hisashi gets pipe dreams of a third, there will be a divorce in his near future.

Hisashi smiles widely, stands, and says to the girl, "We'll take them. Why don't you get yourself and the goods outside for a minute so we can talk business?"

The girl nods silently, with a shrewd look in her eye that makes Sorahiko think that she knows what's about to happen. She ushers the children away with her, glancing between them and her boss.

Ten minutes later, he and Hisashi are both completely spotless, while the rest of the dingy warehouse is covered in blood and various bits of gore.

"Izuku will make a fantastic little brother for Tenko, don't you think?" Hisashi asks conversationally, and Sorahiko groans.

[riddle-me-ri]

Heyo everybody! HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

I have another wee update before the start of the new year! (and I have to pass out in order to be up and at work at 7 am rip)

First off, I just wanted to thank you guys so much for your support and for getting me out of a tough spot this last couple of weeks. A lot of stuff was going on and getting into my head. I'm getting better at it, slowly but surely…and taking it day by day.

However, there's something I kinda wanna get off my chest, in hopes that maybe it can alleviate some of my other anxieties of posting and creating content...

I've been mulling over how to make this post for a hot minute. And I think I'm ready to finally put it out there, especially in time for the new year where I have no doubt more requests will be rolling in.

I won't highlight or detail any specific requests in my inbox I have now, but I will just say I have unfortunately had to delete several requests in my inbox that I feel I wasn't able to get to or I feel like I wasn't able to fulfill properly. 

I know some of you wonder if it may or may not be yours, I don’t really wanna share the ones I didn’t do because I don’t wanna put anyone on blast (even if its anon, I don’t want anyone to feel discouraged) plus they’ve already been deleted so I couldn’t go back and find them if I tried. 

However, here’s some…I guess hints? To what type of requests may have gotten deleted? Or like what to avoid requesting me in the future? I dunno the best way to put it rip

I do ask you guys to refrain from things involving parenthood, pregnancy, or children. 

Pregnancy scares the shit out of me. I know to many it’s a beautiful natural thing, but all I can think about is the movie Alien and having some being sucking the life force out of me. I can get the appeal in some ways, but not enough to where I feel comfortable writing about it. 

I deal with kids on a fairly regular basis (I work at a pet store that some people use as a free day care) so it's hard for me to like...get in the mindset for them. I just can’t stand kids that have had zero discipline and coming home from work to try and work on a request with kids is just really difficult for me rip

I know I wrote one thing with the Riddler's being dads, and I had fun with the dialogue and the hilarious scenario, but that's as far as I want it to go.

Another type of request I’ve been struggling with, is requests dealing with mental health. I’ve gotten a couple requests for an autistic reader and I’ve tried doing research and asking around, but I’m worried that no matter how much research I do…I won’t ever be able to fully grasp it in terms of a character that has it. I can write about anxiety and depression cause I suffer from it, but I don’t wanna risk the chance of offending someone or being way off! I’d highly advise that you guys reach out to authors that are autistic and can write your neat ideas to full proper fruition! I have no doubt they’d appreciate the opportunity!  

One more thing, please when requesting, give me everything you can think of. The more suggestions, ideas, prompts, etc. you guys give me the more I can work with. 

It doesn't have to be anything crazy specific but something other than "*insert character trope* reader and riddler" would be gratefully appreciated. 

I do appreciate the creative freedom, but it’s also really easy to feel like I’m just a content engine meant to just pump something out from the bare minimum. 

I hope this helps!

 I just wanna apologize in advance to all the people who sent me a request that got deleted. The number was just getting too much for me and I wanna make room for newer requests in the future and alleviate some of the pressure of not being able to fulfill a certain idea or prompt.

Thank you guys so much for understanding, I hope you know that I still appreciate the fact so many of you trust me with your ideas but some of them I just couldn't find the inspiration for or couldn't get in a proper headspace for and just hope you guys can understand!

I love you all! Here’s to a happy new year! See you guys soon!