#to anyone else who sees this and relates

[silverandebony]

man y'all ever read a book abt a character with a degenerative disease and feel just. distressingly seen

[saturnscherie]

x

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[clownboybebop]

I dress extra masc on my period

[luna-the-cretar]

One thing I just realized about the couple of times Lethica has willingly taken off her mask or showed her face (not including the time Marius took it off to save her), it was always a very intimate scene

Like during the ritual where we see everyone’s backstories. The first thing Lethica did was take off her mask.

Or the porch scene. Even though it was her duplicate, Derek made a note of Lethica not wearing her mask during the conversation with Marius, where she appears to be making the choice to trust him, despite the danger. And while, no, it wasn’t actually Lethica, it still looks like her. And she didn’t technically have to have her duplicate’s mask off, since it’s had her mask on before (like during the second hag fight after Lethica was revived), yet she did.

Or how about her scene in Metamorphosis? Lethica immediately takes the mask off before performing the ritual (and I’m sure if we’ve had more opportunities for notable individual scenes during long rests, we probably would’ve seen this consistency as well, since she doesn’t sleep with the mask on considering the moment where the party couldn’t find their stuff and Lethica immediately covered her face with her hair)

Idk. Just something I’ve noticed

[sh1-n0bu]

everyday i look at the hoyoverse fandom and go “wow… media literacy IS dead😃”

[sonknuxadow]

sonic media will literally go "sonic and tails ARE a real family because a family can just be you and the people you love most" and also make it extremely clear that sonic and tails view eachother as brothers and then people who could not have missed the point harder will go Umm no theyre not siblings because they're not related by blood ..... :/

[foxstens]

so we know andrew gravitates towards kind people

but lowkey so does kevin

[feline-evil]

Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.

[king-lena]

ew i hate looking back on any social media and seeing my old cringe posts (especially on tiktok) like help!!!! that isn’t me anymore don’t look please!!!! 😅 i can barely handle my current cringe posts don’t make me revisit the past please!!!! i am working so hard to constantly keep growing and learning and changing my mindset and becoming a better me every day and i am no longer that version of myself and i do not know her like that anymore. but dang like her reminants are still out there lingering and i do not like it one bit… 😔

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[loud-whistling-yes]

nobody touch me i just read kj encore and SO NO ONE'S GONNA FUCKING TALK ABOUT HACHI COMPETING WITH JOKER TO BECOME A THIEF???????

[cheesecakeislazy]

Scrolling through Ao3 fanfics trying to find something to read, is an experience that makes me have whiplash like no other. Back to FUCKING BACK. Understand that??? ALL THREE IN A ROW. WERE FANFICS. THAT I AM UNSURE ABOUT.

Why was the first one about getting fucked by PENNYWISE… whose fetish is this? And why?

Then there was a TMNT fanfic… WHERE YOU FUCK LEONARDO. WHY. ARE. WE. FUCKING. THE. TURTLES.

And then finally… the last one I saw? MOTHERFUCKING SPRINGTRAP. WHY DO YOU WANNA FUCK THE CORPSE RABBIT? Not William Afton- SPRINGTRAP. W H Y? His dick would not exist- that shit is gone. Forgotten. Left to rot like Chipper. Lost to time and space like Fnaf World.

I have so many questions… like- how did you write 3K words of someone fucking a corpse rabbit. I’m stunned. Bamboozled. Gobsmacked. Perchance, flabbergasted. Here I am, on Tumblr, writing about the horrors I stumbled upon, knowing damn well- that this is not at all the worst the internet has done. Not to kink shame. I just want to know how and why.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Not to be completely unhinged in this post rn but while I cannot lie about liking some aspects of omegaverse shit I've never been able to really enjoy the full on "omegaverse" because of the weirdly manufactured like. Oppression??? Like the sociostructual aspects of it make me so uncomfortable lmfao. I have to experience and bear witness to so much casual oppression and discrimination based on non-controllable factors in my daily life and it makes me so upset and exhausted enough, I don't wanna see it IN MY PORN?????

Why can't I just read about men fucking sloppy and getting pregnant and mating for life and shit without having to think about one of them getting. Denied job opportunities lmfao. I went more in detail in the tags I'm just. Oof.

[hymns-across-the-stars]

"Hey Glisten, there was a research capsule back there that you should probably pick up." - From Vee! >:3c

((It's Rodger. But will he notice in time?))

Glisten briefly looks away from his machine to make sure she can see him roll his eyes.

"For just another two ichor? Come on, Vee; I would never be that desperate!"

That said... while he doesn't particularly care for the little bits of information on the capsules himself, he supposes Rodger very much would appreciate any extra tidbits for his research. And if the capsule just so happens to be near him, there's no harm in picking it up. There's only one entrance to the room anyway; if Vee saw it on her way in, then he'd pass by it on his way out.

And ding! That's also one more machine complete and another point to the running score against Vee. He dusts off his hands and turns to look at her properly, clearly still smug about getting to and finishing a machine before her.

"Buuuuut... since you were so kind to point it out, I'll go grab it anyway~"

Glisten then strides past his friend toward the exit—and by extension, the capsule. It's a little odd that she doesn't immediately follow given the lack of a second machine, but that's hardly an issue; there's still another couple machines on the floor anyway, and if she wants to spend that time scouring the room for floor candy and tapes, so be it.

But now that he's at the capsule and reaches to pick it up, something about it bothers him.

Was it... missing the tapes...?

The capsule bursts open under his touch, the ichor inside sloshing and coalescing into a familiar shape. A single red eye glares down at him. The floor feels almost sticky. When did he fall over?

The twisted version of Rodger raises a finger, the low drone of an attack charging unmistakable. Glisten's gaze darts toward Vee. Close, but safe from Rodger's beam even if he's no longer in the picture. Good.

...wait. Close. Safe.

He doesn't think further than that. The fading image of his reflection trick is the only sign he was ever in front of the twisted in the first place. The dizziness feels worse than usual, though; in attempt to put some space between him and Vee, he slightly stumbles.

There are worse witnesses, worse things to happen. But he is not so out of it to not still feel shame.

And that was still too close. He's gotten hurt before, yes; he could have taken the hit well enough and the consequences were nearly nonexistent in the long run. But the moment of pain would have not been soothed. How lucky that he got out of range.

But still—but still—something in his chest twangs. As the world swims around him, Glisten can't quite tell how much was from the dizziness and how much was from that awful little worm of sudden distrust.

"Vee...?"

Ha! Was that a warble in his voice? That won't do at all, no no. It was probably a mistake anyway—at worst a prank expecting just this, that he teleported to safety. Nothing to fuss over. Nothing to be hurt by.

He squeezes his eyes shut, smirk just momentarily replaced with a grimace. But with a deep breath, it's like it was wiped away; Glisten makes a breathy little laugh.

"That could have been bad! But of course, just comes to show I'm better than any twisted here...!"

A slight pause. The new smile wavers a little.

"Though I have to admit... Rodger had the both of us fooled this time."