#which means i would have to get registered as needing an emotional support animal. but i think i can manage shdhf) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flawedconqueror · 1 year

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Lack of maternal affection

I don’t have a desire to have kids, from my womb at the moment. I am open to adopting someone. Which is odd. This foreignness of childbearing I attribute to not having that maternal person. In fact I was treated as a nuisance and so I think I internalised those feelings. That doesn’t mean things can change, but this is where I’m at currently.

Not being wanted

Also to deal with the extremeness of the situation growing up I did numb my feelings, which could’ve been a way to cope with my emotions.

Growing up I would describe my relationship with my mom as non-existent, strained. I resented her for not being there, although she couldn’t give me the affection I needed. Age has shown me it wasn’t her fault. It still sucked though. Naivet�� and ignorance had me going to school with early developed breasts with my nipples showing through my shirts. It was my friend who got me a bra after I guess classmates noticed.

Another who showed me how to put on a pad. I really think a lot of anger stems from how I was treated like a rag doll. In heaven there will be no caste system. I was disturbed as a youth. Quite the paradox growing up: a bookish person, but with a penchant for getting in tussles.

Anyways, I did not try to have a relationship with my mom as a result. I just blocked her out and focused on school. Before that, I used to cry nightly for my mom and I think I disassociated in a way to manage with the anguish of not having a mom.

I would try to find that mom in other people but once the school bell rings, or the sun dims, or the work shift ended they had to go back to their respective families and I was left horribly alone.

I was always out of the house, I would gravitate towards heat, love.

I have a few childhood friends who I’d visit before school, they gave me patties introduced me to their sibilings and they were extremely kind. Against the advice of my uncle, and at the time when kids my age were being kidnapped I would go to my friends’ homes afterschool. Get acquainted with their brothers. Watch the Simpsons. Some semblance of normalcy.

I would go home just before my uncle and aunt got home from work. My uncle would nag me that I shouldn’t go to my friend’s house but I never did listen.

At home it was quiet, lonely often ignored. My brother was there but then he’d go out with his friends. I would spend a lot of time on the computer which reminded me of summers with my friend getting to know Neopets.

Think Chuckie from Rugrats I could relate to his story although my mom wasn’t dead she wasn’t accessible.

There is something about a mom’s touch or doting care that I lacked and I think it can be awkward at times for me to give me affection.

I know my spiritual mum told me God is going to restore my emotions. Sometimes I can be abrupt, robotic and flat despite being an animated person. It’s an ongoing journey.

* My uncle is to not be held accountable for this this was unbeknownst to him

Family and community

It takes time to find the place God will have you to be rooted. Looking back God did not let me be establish in an area until it was His will.

I moved 2ish times since coming to London. I tried registering with the surgery (GP) in those places and I didn’t have that release until I came to the place where I’m currently in.

It took about a yearish to find the church I’m going to and when you’re in the place you need to be everything falls into place.

I was led to find a small group and couldn’t ask for a better group of girls. Even people who have similar issues that in some ways became my de facto support group.

J is so kind and I just feel sad for her, I pray God brings a release in her life to get a husband, children etc. She lives near me and it was great having dinner with her. I showed her the clock tower I went to her. And she lives on the other side a line that seems to divide us but it feels like an entirely different world. There are eateries.

Or meeting a foster mom with daughter, who has become a defacto support group. Kendra shows me it is possible to accept someone and take them as their own. My dad did that too.

J mentioned it’s hard as London is indeed a transient city, people come for opportunity, studies and often go back to wherever they came from.

As we fellowship more our bond strengthens.

The church and everything else followed

Getting in a small group, going to outings, and going to early Sunday morning prayer meetings. There is just a shared camaraderie and bond that is uncanny and God ordained.

The women I have to be refreshing so far: they’re frank, candid, transparent with their challenges and lives. Whether it be dealing with ailing parents, getting a will done (which is quite morbid if you think about it), career discontentment it makes me more willing to share my own struggles and be open. We shared some tears already.

Slow to speak

It’s only until recently that I learned to be cautious with what I say. I interrupt people and was brash, arrogant.

Slow to speak, quick to listen.

I don’t show all my cards and I’m wisely cautious in what I share these days.

I want to enjoy the moment as much as God

Not everyone deserves your vulnerability. A couple of years ago and even recently I would overshare. It was selfish, attention seeking, but as I’m learning to regulate my emotions, I’m cautious in what I share.

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imagines-mha · 3 years

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⭒ haikyuu x exam season ⭒

Daichi- when i say he is the MOODIEST person when studying. It’s all fun and games until you interrupt him one too many times and he fucking explodes. Needs 2 chill

Suga- his goal in life is to be an aesthetic studyblr like this man will go and get iced coffee, order the prettiest stationary and then spend 20 minutes organising it for his instagram. As for ACTUALLY studying? He’s amazing at it. Literally the person we all aspire to be

Asahi- anxiety crams before tests. He does more than like 70% of his classmates but is always convinced he’s fallen behind on everything. Cries a LOT when he doesnt understand smth

Noya- another one who cries only he does it SO easily. Personally victimised by anything past question 1. Gets literally everyone to do his work for him

Tanaka- tries so hard he really really does. His handwriting is a mess and his notes look like something a 7 year old would do. Gets everything wrong but doesnt let it stop him

Ennoshita- did someone say pretentious straight A student??? Offers to help his friends just so he can flex his pretty notes and intelligence. Seems like he has everything under control but really? He cries like once a night in the lead up to exams

Kageyama- he doesnt have any room for anything in his head that isnt volleyball. Hes hopeless

Hinata- LACKS COMMON SENSE SO BAD. He’ll finally understand EVERYTHING but write the answer in the wrong place or leave out a decimal place in the exam. Stupidest mistakes

Tsukishima- he sticks to a study schedule like what? Who tf sticks to a schedule? Doesnt like to flaunt his grades around anyone who isnt hinata and kageyama, but akiteru and his mom are 100% the type to post his grades all over facebook like “so proud of my son !!!!!!”

Yamaguchi- the king of saying he hasn’t done much for exams, but then stays up every night til 2am studying. He HATES people having any expectations of him so keeps all his preparation secret lmao.

Kuroo- hes smart and he flaunts it so bad. 100% a teacher's pet, especially for science. Around exam season he lives in the library. Motivates kenma to study with him too tho hes so supportive

Kenma- hes naturally smart, which is like 70% of the reason his grades are good bc he does NOT study. Leaves it all to the night before/ when hes with his friends in the library but other than that nope he doesnt have energy

Lev- doesn't fully register he’s taking a test until he’s 3 questions in and hasn’t written a single word. Then he starts panicking.

Bokuto- he goes through the 5 stages of grief every single time he has to study. Gets frustrated as hell when he cant understand something, gets distracted by everything, a mess. Always leads to him slamming his textbook shut and sulking for an hour

Akaashi- the only one in fukurodani who actually spreads his studying out over the year so he doesnt have to cram. He has pretty notes and diagrams but still gets so stressed smh

Konoha- “yeah ill study in ten minutes” *cue him 6 hours later only starting* studies mostly at night and doesnt care about grades , yet still manages to score really good on every test

Oikawa- if this man is anything he’s dedicated. Actually finds balance between volleyball and studying when exam season’s in full swing, but that doesnt mean he still doesnt overwork himself. Surviving on 40 minutes of sleep and coffee lmao

Mattsun- doesn’t take school seriously at all. Hes like “who cares im gonna die one day” “if i dont know it now ill never know it”. So fucking chill

Makki- tries to be like issei so bad but it fails every time. He’s like “yeah who cares about biology anyway lmao”. He is a liar. He cried for 2 hours over biology last night smh. Biology is actually his number one care.

Iwa- naturally smart and follows a routine. The only healthy studier in seijoh tbh. Motivates his friends so much though hes the only reason mattsun and makki pass smh

Ushijima- sounds pretentious but he doesnt mean it. The worst person to study with because hes so naturally smart and makes everyone feel stupid. Hes like “how do you not understand this? Its easy?”

Tendou- hes so average when it comes to studying i cant even explain it. He goes home and studies, has dinner, watches some anime and studies a little more, then just goes to bed? Never overly concerned about it but hes the best for calming nerves. Makes you really believe things will be okay

Goshiki- CHRONIC WORRIER OH MY GOD. definitely gets the shakes before an exam and almost has a fuckin panic attack every single time, never feels prepared but he really is. Needs tendou for emotional support

Atsumu- too confident in his abilities lmao. He’s like “yeah ive got this i totally know it” then acts shocked and appalled when he fails. Thinks he’s the main character, therefore he HAS to pass. He’s not. And he never learns.

Osamu- the slightly smarter twin yet still not exceptional in any way. Doesnt really care about grades, he knows there’s more to life but still studies enough to pass

Kita- hello mr “whats a failing grade”. Never stresses and never fails. Actually the top of his class in basically everything. Manages to study and still find time for hobbies.

Aone- i am convinced a hug from him would get me through exam season every single year. Another person who just? Doesnt stress? Follows a routine and doesnt mind if he doesnt know something in the test. wow

Futakuchi- “i dont care about exams at all fuck them” *gets 53% and cries*. He doesnt have the patience to study and feels betrayed when all his friends actually do the work

Koganegawa- hes like hinata only he actually passes most of the time. Works SO hard and gets so happy when it pays off!! Always treats himself to mcdonalds after an exam thats self love babie

Terushima- you need to be cautious around this man. He’ll spend every night of exam season partying and ignoring any responsibility, yet still come out with 100% in everything. Where does he find the time? How does that work? What the fuck?

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blindbeta · 4 years

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Hi! I'm writing a blind character who uses (among other accessibility aids) a seeing-eye animal. This is science fiction, and they're on an alien planet, so I don't want it to be a dog exactly, but I also want to make sure it could conceivably fill the same role. My ideas are ranging from "generic four-legged mammal" to "scampering lizard beast" to "literal alien bird." Is there anything I should avoid? Anything I should be sure to include? Any tips are welcome!

Title: Creating a Guide Animal a.k.a. Way More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Service Animals, Emotional Support Animals, and Guide Dogs and Guide Horses Specifically

Hi! Thanks for the fun question! I wanted to apologize for the length of this answer. Take your time with it. Even if you already know most of the extra information I provided (which you probably do), I hope it can give you some idea of what might need to be emphasized or explained in your story. I wanted to be as thorough as possible for you and anyone else reading. Understanding more about guide animals will help you create one for your story.

Note: I use Service Animal and Guide Animal in this post. All Guide Animals are Service Animals (they are trained to provide a service to disabled people), but not all Service Animals are Guide Animals.

Okay, as always, this is going to be split into parts for easier understanding. Also, note: This is the perspective of someone who does not use a guide animal and is from a Western country. If someone who uses a guide or service animal AND is from a non-Western country with different laws, feel free to share them. Due to the nature of this question, I only want other blind people and/or service animal users to reply with information. I mostly focused on Western links and laws, as I feel these were easier for me to find sources for when I searched.

The Seeing Eye (trademarked) in an Alien World?

Fun fact! Seeing Eye dog is a specific type of dog trained in The Seeing Eye Inc in New Jersey, USA. The generic term is guide dog or service dog or service animal. I would stick with one of the generic terms, as Seeing Eye dog is specific to Earth. Not all guide dogs come from The Seeing Eye Inc. It would be inaccurate, possibly culturally strange, and take viewers out of the story if you use it. Unless you want someone to establish a Seeing Eye Inc on the new planet, although you could call it something else to avoid confusion, or address it in the text. The Seeing Eye is, thankfully, not the only training school for guide dogs. Although Vision Australia does call them “seeing-eye dogs”, I wanted to include this just in case it tripped a reader up. People will recognize the “seeing-eye dog” term if you decide to use it.

Question 12 on the Seeing Eye website says:

Only dogs trained by The Seeing Eye, Inc., of Morristown, N.J., are properly called Seeing Eye® dogs. The Seeing Eye is a registered trademark. The generic term for dogs trained by other schools is "guide dog."

Guide Dogs and Canes

This may not seem as fun to readers, but your character should follow most Earth rules when training. This is to avoid confusion for a public that tends to know little about service animals. You specificied the character would use other aids, which is great, so I’ll assume you already know this. Your character should already know how to use a cane before getting their guide animal. They will need to use these navigation skills because while the animal can help somewhat, they cannot replace the ability to navigate. For example, when crossing the street, the guide dog waits for the owner’s command to cross. In order to do this, the person must have experience with crossing safely.

Guide animals are also more expensive than canes, which can be free and easy to replace. Animals require food, toys, medical bills, and time.

My source on this is also the Seeing Eye website, which you’ll want to peruse because they have helpful information.

Other Helpful Research Tips

I have two links below about choosing to use a cane vs. a guide animal. They will provide you with information about the advantages and disadvantages of a service animal compared to using a cane. As I said before, blind people must know how to use a cane in order to qualify to get a guide dog. Therefore, it would be appropriate and helpful to have your character also know how to use a cane and to keep a cane on them often, such as in a backpack.

Reasons one might want to use a cane while having a guide dog include:

They want to interact with their environment more, particularly if it is less familiar or has changed

They don’t want to use the guide dog that day because it is too hot, the dog is sick, they don’t want to have to clean up after the animal, etc

They are between guide dogs

Those are some of the reasons someone who already owns a guide dog may want to use a cane. Some people even use a guide dog and cane simultaneously.

For more information about the pros and cons of getting a guide dog, read these articles, one of whom is by a guide dog user. You’ll want to keep these advantages and disadvantages in mind while writing.

White Cane vs. Guide Dog: Why or Why Not?

Guide Dogs vs. White Canes: The Comprehensive Comparison

Things Your Guide Needs

This is not a comprehensive list, but I wanted to include things your animal needs and general tips on how to treat the animal in the story.

1. It needs the ability to follow commands. How you do this is up to you. For research, watch YouTube videos with service dogs. Pay attention to the commands they give.

Here is a list of some commands taught by a school for service dogs, which you can probably use as a base.

Command Central: Guide Dog Commands

2. It should be trained to avoid obstacles, like benches or people

3. It should not be touched or distracted by other characters or animals - people will probably try to do so, and your character should explain that the animal is working and should not be distracted

4. It should be taken care of an given time off-harness, such as at home. It should be well-behaved as well.

5. It should be able to go anywhere. Transportation, hospitals, royal courts, sports centers, whatever is on this planet. Service dogs can go anywhere and saying they aren’t allowed somewhere in a story would be a problem. Some people do try to bar service dogs, such as restaurants, but they do so out of ignorance and not because the law is on their side. Some countries do not have protections in place, true, but because you are creating your own planet, service dogs— or in your case service animals— being allowed anywhere should hold true no matter what. Why? Because even in Western countries where dogs are seen as culturally favorable, service animals are turned away illegally, particularly at restaurants, hospitals, doctor’s offices, and public transport. This differs from an Emotional Support Animal, who are allowed only in housing, dorms, and airports. For more information on the differences between where Emotional Support Animals and Service Animals can go, read the article below.

Where Can I Take Emotional Support Animals?

Who Can Be a Service Animal?

I wanted to discuss this as well. Again, there is a lot of misinformation out there and this leads to a lot of anger directed at people with service animals.

Service Animals and Emotional Support Animals are not the same. They do not serve the same purpose, cannot go to the same places, and are not bound by the same rules. You have probably heard at least one irate person claiming someone tried to bring their service monkey into a restaurant. That person is misinformed.

To start, Emotional Support Animals can be any animal. A dog, a cat, a bunny, a bird, a turtle. There is no limit as to what the animal can be, although it must provide comfort and be beneficial to your mental health. It should be easy to train and not harmful to others. It should also be able to live in a house or be otherwise domesticated. Emotional Support Animals need a letter from a Licensed Mental Health Professional in order to qualify as an Emotional Support Animal, which should hopefully keep people from trying to keep wild or dangerous animals as pets and claim them as Emotional Support Animals.

Here is an article that goes over things what an Emotional Support Animal does, what qualities and qualifications it must have, and examples of good ESA’s and what they can do for you.

Types of Animals As ESA’s and Their Benefits

Remember, Emotional Support Animals are only allowed in any kind of housing (such as apartments or dormitories) and airports. They are not allowed in other public places where animals would not otherwise be allowed. ESA’s also need to be registered through a letter of support by a mental health provider. This letter should be shown to a landlord, as Emotional Support Animals require proof.

Next, Service Animals. Let’s get it out of the way. Service Animals (usually dogs) provide services to people with disabilities. This means a guide dog, medical alert dog, psychiatric service dog, etc. Service Animals are owned by individuals and are not therapy dogs or other working dogs. For example, dogs you are providing therapy to children in hospitals are therapy dogs. Search and Rescue dogs are working dogs. I don’t know much about either of these, but here is an article that goes into more detail about the differences.

Service Dogs, Working Dogs, Therapy Dogs, Emotional Support Dogs: What’s the Difference?

Dogs and Miniature Horses

Service animals can only be dogs OR miniature horses. Many people only think of dogs, as dogs are more popular and common in public than horses. However, a miniature horse has the same rights as a dog when in a service animal role. In the United States, Federal law recognized miniature horses as accepted service animals in 2011.

Service dogs or service horses can:

-enter any public place dogs and horses are not usually allowed

-can be trained to guide the blind or provide services for other disabilities

-can go on planes without a pet fee (provided they can fit by the owner’s feet and not block the aisle)

If we take a look at this article again:

White Cane Vs. Guide Dog: Why Or Why Not?

we’ll notice that “being denied access” is not under the disadvantages of a Guide Dog section. I think it should be. Is denying access illegal? Yes. Does it still happen? Yes. And it would probably be even more likely when someone is presented with a miniature horse - at least in countries where dogs are more popular. On top of lack of knowledge about service animals, people are not often aware that miniature horses can serve in these roles as well. Vision Australia discusses this denial of rights and laws protecting blind people with service dogs.

However, The Guide Horse Foundation reports that many people expirience better acceptance of horses as opposed to dogs. This is because a dog may be perceived as a pet or be an animal that was denied access before. A horse may not have this problem.

Some Places Service/Guide Horses Are Recognized

Canada - with laws and protections varying by province and definitions differing slightly from the U.S and Australia. However, this site specifically mentions guide horses as service animals.

Australia - with laws varying by state, but wider protections in place, which you can read more about at Vision Australia and Australian Human Rights Commission. Australian Human Rights Commission also defines a service animal as a dog or any other animal, leaving horses as an option. According to this page, miniature horses are catching on in Australia, where people generally prefer dogs. The page lists similar reasons to those I included below that someone might want a miniature horse over a dog.

The U.S - According to this page, miniature horses are the one animal that is allowed to be a service animal other than a dog. They are required to be trained and are expected to behave as well as a service dog would. The requirements listed differ little from those required of service dogs.

The U.K - This page reports that miniature horses are making their way as service animals, but I could not find any other sources about this topic, such as official recognition.

I tried searching and could not find proof that miniature horses were catching on in other places, though I found many, many places where guide dogs were popular. The point is that guide horses exist as well, and I think this can help people understand what makes a service/guide animal with more clarity.

Why a Miniature Horse?

Here is an article that discusses this in detail:

A Brief History of Miniature Horses And the ADA

According that article, a major reason people might prefer a horse to a dog is for balancing purposes. The DeafBlind community often includes people with balance difficulties (which I discussed a bit in my last ask) and miniature horses are better able to provide support, having more strength than a dog. They can steady someone when walking or help someone stand from a chair.

Other reasons someone might prefer a horse:

They live in a rural area

They or a member of their household are allergic to dogs

They live in a place where dogs are not favored, seen as dirty, or religiously unacceptable

They or a member of their household has a fear of dogs

They want a guide that lives and works longer than dogs (who work for about 6-8 years)

According to the website for The Guide Horse Foundation, horses have high stamina, do not get fleas or shed as often as dogs, and are conscious about safety.

Qualities Your Guide Animals Should Have

Using the dog and horse guides as references, here are some qualities I think your creature should have:

Trainable, both for commands and so they don’t pee where they aren’t supposed to

It should be specifically trained for this purpose, preferably by a group of some kind - this is your equivalent of a guide dog school

Good eye sight, good hearing, and strong memory at least

Relatively small, but not too small (you can use Labrador dogs and miniature horses as a reference

Good stamina for walking

Not territorial, aggressive, or dangerous- dogs can possess these qualities so I think it is okay if a wild version of your guide has these qualities. However, your guide specifically should not have them. For example, wild dogs may be aggressive, but a trained guide dog would not be.

Your guide should not be used for protection, hunting, or attacking others who may be a threat. While the presence of the animal can certainly act as a deterrent in real life and in the story, that is not the animal’s function.

Your guide should be calm, docile, and able to bond with your character

Your guide animal should generally not be seen by the people in your world as frightening, dangerous, or religiously unclean. Note that sometimes guide dogs fit these qualities in certain cultures and so they are not used there. If possible, give your world and its cultures a good working relationship with a few different animals. Pick one or two of these as possible guides people can choose from. You can possibly draw from your own culture and history for this if your culture has had good working relationships with animals.

Your guide animal should be able to be harnessed (a leash is not enough) and possibly wear something that alerts others that they are working (such as a vest)

The animal should have good navigation skills and possibly natural guiding skills. Because you are creating a species, you can possibly make these qualities innate. From what I read, horses guide by nature, able to act as guides for other horses in the herd if they are blinded.

Your guide animal should probably not fly, unless people fly or float in your world. Since it should be small enough to enter buildings and not accidentally crush children, I don’t know if having it be big enough to fly on would be a good idea anyway, as fun as that sounds.

Small enough to enter buildings and sit at the character’s feet, such as at a restaurant if your world has those

It should be able to be trained in “babyhood” and work into adult life. Dogs typically work 6-8 years and horses have a much longer lifespan and thus work longer. Create an animal that can live at least as long as a dog and thus work for some, but not all of that time. Give it a retirement phase in life, if your book ever got to that. Basically, use dogs and miniature horses as a base and work from there.

The animal should be domesticated on your world and not strictly wild (such as a lion in our world).

The animal should be comfortable on land. The ability to swim is fine, but it should of course be primarily a land animal.

The animal should have a common, available food supply and vet care even if you don’t go into this. If your guide is domesticated and possibly kept as a pet in your world (or a neighboring world, however your story is structured), this will be much easier and being easy to care for will probably be implied.

It should be allowed anywhere, including hospitals, and it should be well-behaved in those areas

It should not run away from your character and leave them alone

That’s all I can think of at this time. Generally, I think if this were set on Earth or an Earth-like fantasy place, I might suggest creating a dog- or horse-like creature, or possibly another domesticated animal that the culture favors in real life. However, since this is on another planet, I feel okay with getting creative with the type of animal, provided it has the same qualities and can serve the same purpose as a real-life equivalent. Some of this you can create with your world-building and some with research on real-life animals to use as inspiration. If anyone with a service animal disagrees, please add your opinion. It would be beneficial to me and hopefully to the asker as well.

Thank you again for the question and if you need more help, feel free to send me another ask or a message. I hope this can benefit you in some way. Good luck with your story!

Edit: I wanted to add this sensitivity reader, who can read for working with guide dogs and other blind stuff.

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momoliee · 3 years

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It’s probably too early for The Meta No One Asked For That I’m Gonna Write Anyway about XQC, alas…here we go

Dr. Xie Qingcheng, 32, male, straight (so far), 180 cm with only one current family member.

Xqc is introduced as a cold, aloof and apathetic retired doctor who has no passions, cares about nothing except for his sister, and unless he’s angry, you can barely get an emotional response out of him.

Through meatbun’s character notes on how he has no favorite food, no favorite color or animal, no personal preferences outside what’s most practical and how he’s very very responsible and rules abiding and honest and sober and serious, and through he yu’s POV that continuously paints him as this heartless cold blooded person, I dare say we were…deceived by this so far shades of gray picture we had of him.

Xqc was born into a finically stable middle class family consisting of two cops for parents and a younger sister that came into the world 8 years after him. When he turned 13, and his sister was only 5 at that time, his parents were fired from their job due to a case they shouldn’t have been investigating going wrong, and they had to move to a rural area. Not long after that, he witnessed both his parents’ deaths and saw their corpses with his own eyes, the site was bloody and there’s no way it didn’t traumatize a pre-teen like him. He then was tasked with taking care of his sister, becoming a doctor despite not wanting to, owing others favors and spending all his money on smth that’s yet to be revealed instead of enjoying it. He got married, not to a woman he loves but to someone whom he thought of as “suitable and appropriate”, got cheated on and went through a divorce before losing full interest in the marriage life. He was finally able to retire (we don’t know why yet) and live a quiet, normal, boring life.

I believe xqc loved his parents, I believe he loved them so much cause in chapter 20, he mentions how he thought he wouldnt be able to live past the grief, he wouldn’t be able to go on or move forward, how the grief completely overtook him. He also mentions how he used to play with knots and handcuffs when he was a child, which shows how close he was to them. So for a child who had a good stable life with two loving parents to suddenly fall from a class to a class, suddenly lose both parents and see their corpses with his own eyes, that must’ve fucked him up big time. I’m talking “when can I fully register all of this” kind of fucked up. But he didn’t have time to fully absorb all of this, didnt have the time to sit down and cry, he had a sister, she was only 5, where will they get the money from? What were they gonna do? How was he going to continue school while caring for her? He didn’t have the time to sit down and grief, to sit down and adjust. For a child who had a normal life and didn’t have to worry much about the money like every other middle class kid, he was suddenly burdened with poverty AND loss, and duty and responsibility. Good bye to the days of playing with handcuffs and knots huh?

You ask me, why does xqc not have a favorite food? I answer you, because many many nights, he didn’t know what to feed his sister, much less himself. Cause I bet that many nights, he would have to give up his portion for Xie Xue, to make sure a kid like her is full. Cause he couldn’t afford to be picky, couldn’t afford to choose; whatever was edible will be eaten, taste and flavor be damned. He had to start working from a young age, balance school, babysitting and working all at once. The last friend he made (I think) was that Chen Man guy whose parents were friends with his parents, back when they were alive and life was good. He didn’t have time to make friends, or go out, or have a favorite color or visit the zoo and decide on a favorite animal. No, he had to study, and study hard to become more financially stable and support Xie Xue, he had to raise his baby sister and protect her, he had to work or else how will he put food on their table? Yet he never lost his soft kind heart, cause when his sister asked for a laptop, he bought her one just so that she wouldn’t feel less than any of the other children.

Xqc had to SURVIVE, he had to make do with what he had and what he didn’t have. He didn’t have time to sit down and cry or process his trauma, didn’t even have time to think of adolescent love or his youthful days or do what kids his age did. And all of that carried forward into his adult life. He pushed his emotions back so hard and had his practical, business like mind take care of everything in order to make it through the days. He started to believe that passionate emotions such as love and hate and lust and desire were all a waste of time, a distraction from his duties, smth that will rock the delicate balance he created with his everyday busy schedule. Emotions will stunt you, emotions will delay you, crying and not going to work today means no food to feed his hungry sister with. That’s when he started thinking, strong emotions are a DISEASE, they will take up your time, cloud your judgement, have you make reckless decisions that you’ll regret later. And he couldn’t afford any of that right? Strong emotions are for the weak, they put you in crutches and disable you from moving forward. Wasnt that what he told his ex wife? If he had submitted himself to his grief back then, where would his sister be? Where would he be? How could they have grown up to be healthy and successful adults?

So this man taught himself practicality and duty and priorities. He stopped thinking about himself, about what he wants and what he feels, and instead started making sure that those around him are happy and content and safe and well taken care of. He no longer had desires or passions, he only had rules and regulations. If a person lost their sense of taste, would they still want chocolates and burgers? Would they still have cravings and foods they’d rather swallow medicine than eat? No. If so, how will they decide on what to eat every day? They’ll simply start following a “perfect nutritional plan” and “balanced diet”. They’d eat what they have to eat, when they have to eat, and in the exact portion they need. To them eating would be another chore they have to do every day to keep their bodies going. Similarly, with xqc, graduating, working, marrying, taking care of his sister and auntie, these all became “tasks” and “chores” that he had to abide by and follow. They became the dietary plan for his life till he dies, the outline he shall follow, the textbook rules he will carry out, no need to think of what he “wants” or “desires”, what will make him “happy” or bring him “joy”. He no longer listened to his emotions when making decisions. Even when marrying his ex wife, he married her cause she was “a suitable match”, not for her looks or personality or anything. Feelings are life’s taste buds, and once you remove them, everything becomes tasteless and mundane, and practicality/logic takes over. He stopped knowing what it felt like to choose based on your preferences, cause he stopped having the luxury of choice ever since that night when he was 13, and he no longer was able to re-teach himself the meaning of free will and choice.

So when he yu, in chapter 20, asked him how he would’ve acted if Xie Xue had died, and he said, “I would’ve continued living as I am today till my last breath,” he wasn’t being “cold” or “heartless” or “indifferent” as he yu likes to say. He was being practical and methodical and thinking with a logical approach, rather than an emotional one, just the way he taught himself to throughout all these years. His almost 2 decades of pure survival mode and severely repressed feelings spoke in the form of autopilot. “I would do what I have to do, what I’ve always done every day of my life so far cause what choice do I have?” Is what he meant to say.

But I believe that he’s a soft hearted, kind and loving person. He never says no his sister, never says no to his auntie, helped that homeless man as best as he could, taught he yu that he was normal and that he wasn’t a monster, believed in treating his patients with words instead of medicine prescriptions, believed that the mentally ill deserve to live normally instead of being locked up. I believe that underneath all the shit he has buried, there’s a lot of passion and love that’s been kept dormant for 19 years.

In conclusion, idk where meatbun is gonna take his character but I genuinely hope he gets to heal, and start having more color and flavor in his life. Start allowing himself to live, not just survive.

#case file compendium #xie qingcheng #bing an ben #meatbun doesn’t eat meat #cfc #bab #meatbun

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lovecoreclownz-archive · 2 years

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depending on how complex the animal is, I think it does have feeling! bugs, probably not in a way that we would even register. cats+dogs+the like, yes! not to our complexity but yea :)

Yea! I completely get what you mean! I know we were talking about it in dms but I’m gonna restate it here just so other people can see cuz I think it’s cool:

My working theory is that creatures develop emotion once the need to survive isn’t as important. For example, dolphins and orcas are two of the most feared types of ocean animals, and it’s been shown that both will display boredom and even kill things for fun!

The fact that an animal is able to experience boredom once it reaches a certain level on the food chain supports this theory I think.

This also ties into human psychology because humans have been at the top of the food chain for YEARS, and only when nomadic peoples started settling did stuff like philosophy or religion, or even education start to become a thing. That’s why some people will use the phrase “I’m like a shark, I can’t stop swimming or I’ll die” Usually this means people are constantly moving so they can’t think about a problem! So for people that were hunters and gatherers and nomadic, without a place to sit down and think, you’re more focused on your next meal more than anything. You can only really think when you stop to look at the world around you (which is also why people say touch grass I think) so yea! I don’t think bugs have emotions to our degree, or most animals! But I do think they do have some emotions! :)

#clown’s honks #starboy #asks #sorry wow! i Kinda rambles #long post #death mention #death ment tw #ask to tag #i just really think psychology in both animals and people is very very cool :)#i honestly think humans were just in the right place at the right time Yknow?

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petri808 · 3 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag AU

As Kagome stood in front of the mirror getting ready for her date with Inuyasha, a slip of the hand landed her fingers against a small, raised scar hidden below the hairline. At least that one was hidden unlike the few she had on her arms from the metal pins surgery, or the worst, a scar near her brow line from hitting the steering wheel. Kagome frowned, her eyes zoning in on the angry horizontal line. It was indented front and center like a frown line, where no amount of makeup could cover it up. She’d even thought about growing out her bangs and changing her hair style, but everyone insisted it was barely visible.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Scar? Oh, I didn’t notice until you brought it up.’

They could just be saying such things to be nice. Well, regardless of their efforts to cheer her up, Kagome felt like the scar stood out like a bright spotlight centered directly on her face saying look at me! Remember me?! No, she honestly couldn’t remember! Didn’t want to remember! Why would anyone want to remember a near fatal accident?! All she wanted were the good memories to return. Wouldn’t it be so awesome if she could choose which memories could return? Any broken bones she’d had from the accident were healed now, but the missing memories a constant reminder her brain still had a ways to go.

Mrs. Higurashi called her from downstairs. “Kagome! Inuyasha’s here!”

She sighed and turned away from the mirror, taking a moment to release the negative thoughts. There was nothing Kagome could do about the scar short of expensive cosmetic surgery, but she genuinely looked forward to their dates, so it wouldn’t be fair or fun to bring Inuyasha down too.

“Be right down!” Kagome called back making sure her tone was chipper. She quickly finished checking to make sure her sundress was okay before grabbing her purse and heading down the staircase.

The couple’s plans for the day included walking around Ueno Park Zoo after lunch, then meeting Sango and Miroku for a double-date dinner. It was meant to be a lazy fun day. Even the late Spring weather was in their favor with a breeze cooling down the sun’s rays. Four months have passed, and with each day, Kagome’s comfort levels had increased thanks to all the support around her. Being with Inuyasha felt exciting, almost electrifying, bringing out those giddy crush-like emotions when someone is developing romantic feelings for someone. All through college Kagome managed to stay away from any serious relationships, and even before that no one had ever made her heart skip the way Inuyasha did. So, this was the first time that she could remember ever experiencing such intense emotions. Any sadness she’d been experiencing always melted away the moment his honey-hues and smile flashed her way.

As they walked around the zoo, it was in one of those moments of elation that Kagome had reached out and taken Inuyasha’s hand. Her cheeks were on fire and rosy blushed but delighted when he squeezed it back. He never did anything to make her feel embarrassed for the move, just a natural gesture between two young people on a date. She’d figured he wouldn’t make the first move out of respect for her, but it was something she’d been thinking about for a couple of weeks. What would it feel like? Was his hands sweaty? Strong? Soft? Would it bring back any connections? It didn’t trigger a rush of express memories, only a sense of normalcy as if her hand just fit perfectly in his. Not in terms of size but as if it belonged there, meant to be there all along. It was a little weird akin to a deja vu moment. But such feelings definitely brought a new flutter to her stomach and wave of heat, coloring her skin like a young schoolgirl with her first love.

There was no rhyme or reason to the pathways they chose around the zoo, simply looking at the different animal exhibits and taking in the relaxing scenery. Sometimes Inuyasha made her laugh by teasing the animals or getting their attention. The funniest had to be the monkeys who didn’t take kindly to his teasing. Kagome even joked that maybe it was because of his heritage that some could understand him on a level. Of course, he scoffed playfully at such a notion even though it seemed true when it came to canine species like the wolves or foxes who’d cowed down before them in the enclosure.

When they reached a concession stand three-quarter ways through the park, it was a perfect time for a break. The couple sat down on one of the benches to have a snack and rest their feet. Inuyasha purchased a parfait to share, but after a few minutes, a man and a woman suddenly walked up to them, catching them off guard.

“Kagome?” The woman excitedly questioned. “Oh, my Kami is that you?! Inuyasha, have you been hiding her away all this time?!”

Kagome looked to Inuyasha with a mild concern flashing in her eyes. She clearly didn’t recognize the excited person. But it was a common occurrence, so he immediately switched into support mode.

“No, it’s a bit more complicated,” Inuyasha told the woman. He then took his girlfriend’s hand to explain further. “This is Ms. Tanaka, Kagome. You’ve worked in the cubicle next to hers at work for about 3 years.”

Kagome looked back at the woman, “Oh! I’m so sorry, Ms. Tanaka, I don’t recognize you. The accident left me with… temporary amnesia.”

“Oh, my that’s terrible, but,” Ms. Tanaka waved her hand, “please don’t apologize. We were apprised of the accident and I’m just glad to see you! You look really great!”

“Thank you,” Kagome smiled sweetly at the woman’s kindness. “I hope once I regain my memories, I’ll be able to return to my normal life.”

“The boss told us your position is being held for you. Oh, I hope you get your memories back soon too! We really miss you at work! Inuyasha,” Ms. Tanaka wagged a finger at the man, “you make sure to help Kagome, okay?! We need her.”

Inuyasha chuckled at the woman’s bluntness. “I’m doing my best. Wouldn’t you say?” He questioned Kagome who responded with a blushing smile and nod.

“Inuyasha’s doing everything he can to help me.” Kagome added. “I don’t know what I would do without his support.”

“Awww!” Ms. Tanaka squealed. “You guys are always so adorable together! Anyways, we should get going, but it was so great to see you! I’m gonna tell all the office girls you’re looking well!”

The couple waved as Ms. Tanaka and the man took their leave. Well, that was certainly unexpected but positive. Unfortunately, the last of their ice cream had melted away, so Inuyasha tossed the remnants into a trash can. Neither said a word about the encounter. They just sat quietly on the bench amongst the ambient noise of zoo-goers. Assuming Inuyasha was also thinking about something, Kagome went inward, reflecting on the brief interaction and Inuyasha’s role in it. How he didn’t take the lead or explain things, allowing her to give whatever information she was comfortable with. It mean a lot to her, supportive, and holding her hand to remind her she wasn’t alone. This encounter wasn’t the first time they’d run into someone from her life. Sometimes Inuyasha knew them, sometimes he didn’t to explain, but Kagome never once had to feel flustered about having to deal with people. Perhaps the air of protection is what kept her feeling so safe with him.

Inuyasha spoke up quietly, breaking the silence. “Did you really mean what you said? A-About my support?”

Kagome looked over to see a hint of a blush coloring the man’s face which brought some of her own to her cheeks. “I did— I do. Everyone’s support has been wonderful, but… well, the times I spend with you I can almost forget about what happened and just… be happy.” Inuyasha looked up as her voice softened. “It really means a lot to me.”

She could tell that her flushed cheeks and the soft embarrassment registering in her eyes communicated all he needed to know of the feelings behind her words. But Inuyasha must have been a bit surprised, and not knowing how to respond because he continued to sit there staring and speechless. Kagome’s gaze unconsciously moved to his lips. Maybe it was the emotions of the moment along with his lowered defenses all combining together into a heightened sense of curiosity on her part… or perhaps desire, because Kagome felt a pull.

Her hand reached out tentatively to his cheek. “May I… kiss you,” she slipped out like a whisper in a breeze.

He smiled, placed his hand over hers and leaned into it with a nod. Kagome inched in, eyes closing as their lips gently made contact. Oh, wow… her mind froze as an electric shiver raced down her body. Inuyasha’s lips felt… natural upon hers. So even though all her memories had been lost, her body remembered and gave into the muscle memory of lips she’d kissed thousands of times before. Kagome pushed further, harder, eliciting a small sigh from the man that sent even more riveting shivers along her skin. Ugh! The exhilarating feelings from the kiss felt so amazing! When they finally pulled apart, Inuyasha placed one last chaste kiss on her forehead. It’s specific spot wasn’t lost on Kagome, and it made the ending feel so much sweeter that he’d chosen it.

“Was that, okay?” Inuyasha tentatively questioned.

Kagome smiled all starry-eyed and breathless at him. “Mmm, more than okay…”

And if she got her way, definitely more will be requested in the future.

#inuyasha #inukag #inukag au #modern setting #Kagome higurashi #inuyasha x kagome #inukag fan fic #inukag fanfiction #missing memories #ch 7 #petri808

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x0401x · 3 years

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #16

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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Colombo’s Bookstore

Sri Lanka didn’t have as many bookstores as Japan. It had about three times as many used car shops as in Japan, I believed. But there were few bookstores.

In the first place, be them used car stores or bookstores, the shops were by no means big. This country was a tiny island with a national territory smaller than Japan’s, so lands that had forest reserves of local nature in them and real estate were probably valuable. If anything, I had an affinity for the place. But it was a pity that the bookstores were so few.

I often spent my time alone nowadays, so above all else, I appreciated having anything to read. I wasn’t the bookworm type, but there were just too many book-selling places in Japan. If you were getting off at some notable station in Tokyo, no matter which one it was, there would be at least one bookstore within walking distance. I also had a fresh memory of Saul-san telling me that “Japanese people really like their books”.

A street vendor was selling scissors in front of a bookstore in the sunlit streets of Colombo, the capital of Sri Lanka. Why did he decide to sell scissors by the road? And right before my eyes, a person on a bus riding slowly down the avenue was buying a pair of scissors from him. Did they have some bag that they wanted to cut open no matter what or something? I had no idea, but anyway, this was a world that operated with standards different from Japan’s, in which supply and demand were apparently well-established.

With glass doors, the bookstore had a magnificent structure and felt nice and cold when I stepped in. The study reference books were on the second floor, so I went up the arched stairs that parted to left and right, searching for the shelf that I was aiming for.

There you are.

I took three books from it, and when I went to the checkout, the female clerk, dressed in a sari, asked me, “Is this all?” in English. The official languages of this country were English, Sinhala and Tamil, with English being spoken by both Sinhalese and Tamils. I believed she was Sinhalese. Because the sari was not a Hindu but a Buddhist thing.

“These are volumes 2, 3 and 4. What about volume 1?”

“I bought just volume 1 a while ago. And it was really good, so I also wanted to learn the rest from this book series.”

“So you’re studying Sinhala. That’s rare. Where are you from?”

“I’m Japanese,” I answered.

What I had come to buy was a Sinhala language study reference book. It was a book for people who couldn’t read Sinhala, so it was, of course, written in English. Even so, I had read it a little before traveling. I also found and purchased a Sinhala language study reference book written by a Japanese scholar, which I was able to buy in Japan.

Regardless, it was kind of useless for my range of understanding, so I almost felt like throwing it away before I could learn anything. I told Saul-san about this when asking him for advice, at which he burst into laughter and then bought me a red paperback book.

A Sinhala book written in English.

The letters were very large and there weren’t too many words. As for the quality of the paper, on the bright side, it was straw paper, and on the downside, it was gray and flimsy. But the contents were very easy to understand and the insides were firmly packed.

This reference book taught Sinhala letters first, as well as the meaning and pronunciation of each one. From that point onward, I couldn’t be more thankful for it. Sinhala was a language written with a Sinhalese alphabet, after all. In addition to vowels such as A, I, U, E and O, it jumped on to a variety of consonants and other symbols that stuck one letter to another like joints. It explained each of them carefully so that even people who didn’t know Sinhalese at all could understand them. This book solved a large percentage of the problem that I had stumbled upon, namely “I can’t find the commonalities and differences between letters, so I don’t know how to tell them apart and can’t organize them in my head”. I was grateful for that. There was no need to ask Richard-sensei for a foreign language course via international call all the time anymore.

That being said, there were many letters in Sinhala. Meaning that there were several pronunciations. You’d think that the Japanese syllabary was cute in comparison. Not all of it could be explained in one book, and the lectures were extended over to the second volume, but Saul-san had bought only one book, in case it didn’t suit me. The results were as could be seen. It was the same kind of joy as reading one book from a novel series and then buying all the sequels.

Learning languages was fun. By the looks of it, learning how to link them directly to communication was what worked for me.

“But can’t you live in Sri Lanka while speaking English, even if you don’t understand Sinhala? Are you on a business trip?”

“Something like that, but if possible, I’d like to talk to people using a Sri Lankan language. I’m Japanese, but I’ve had the experience of being a bit happy when someone from a foreign country spoke in Japanese to me, so now I guess it’s my turn.”

“You have so much free time, huh!”

I had no words to reply. The clerk and I burst into laughter without any reserve and finished the checkout. As I went down the arched stairs, I found a space where they were selling festival tools, stationery and picture books. Many of the same books were arranged on two sides.

Or so I thought.

But that was apparently not it. What I thought to be the exact same large-format picture books were the English version and the Sinhala version. You’d miss it if you were distracted because the pictures were the same, but the picture book, which was probably a Sri Lankan version of a “Japanese folktale”-like work, was published in two languages.

“Y’see, the ones who buy these are parents who want their kids to learn English. ‘Cause speaking English comes in handy.”

When I turned around, the clerk who had been at the cash register on the second floor was right behind me. It seemed she had come to see me off. Apparently, the cashier on the first floor called out to her, telling her to go back to work or something like that, to which she replied at length, and the two exchanged laughs. Maybe the people in this bookstore were cheerful, as not all Sri Lankans expressed their emotions so openly.

“This one is the ‘Mean Old Man’. This one is ‘The Perahera Festival’.”

“Can even a small child understand it well?”

“Of course. This book is big so that it’s easy to read to them.”

Indeed, it was a thin picture book of a size larger than A4. In Japan, it wouldn’t be strange for it to have an anime or manga-style art, but the art of this one had an ethnic touch to it, perhaps to match the contents. The colors were rich, the mean old man was drawn in a vile yet comical way, and the blue gradation of the feathers in a bird’s tail looked tasteful.

“Hum, excuse me. Can I buy this too?”

“You’re going to buy it? Do you have children?”

“I’ll read it myself.”

The clerk laughed again, but after a moment, she made a straight face and told me that it certainly might be perfect for studying. I bought the picture book at the cash register on the first floor. Either way, it cost about 500 Sri Lankan rupees, which was about 600 Japanese yen, but in the eyes of this country’s people, that was probably quite a high price. This was a world of 10 rupees for a loaf of bread and 3 rupees for a cup of tea. Thinking like that, I could understand why there weren’t many bookstores and why there were so few people here.

You can’t eat or drink books. They’re not daily necessities either, like clothes, scissors or toothbrushes. Being able to spend money on such things as if it were obvious must be a sign of wealth. My country was all the more disagreeable for having bookstores everywhere. I’d never thought about it that way.

As I took the receipt and said, “Stūtiyi”, which was “thank you” in Sinhala, the black-haired woman smiled, looked at my face and said in Japanese, “Thank you very much. We will be awaiting your return.”

“Amazing!”

“Thanks.”

And so, she told me that her husband had been working with sheet metal in Ibaraki, Japan, for a while. Her pronunciation of the words “Ibaraki” and “sheet metal” was really good. Apparently, her husband had started up a small company with the money he had earned as an immigrant worker and was its president.

With her waving a hand at me and telling me to be careful, I left the store.

Even though it was early spring, the sunlight in Colombo felt like that of midsummer in Japan. But I was growing quite fond of this glare. Everyone walking in the streets was wearing mid-sleeves, and if they were so inclined, beach sandals too, but the humidity wasn’t as high as in Japan, so I could think that, indeed, this was also spring. The white of the temple flowers blooming along the road was refreshing as well. They reminded me just a little bit of cherry blossoms. And from this street, I could clearly see my favorite landmark.

Colombo Tower, a tower that had the lotus flower as its motif.

It was a Tokyo Tower-like landmark, not visible from my base camp, the mountain town of Kandy, and although the shape was grandiose, it was still under construction and nobody could enter it. However, one day – I didn’t know whether that would be while I was still in Sri Lanka or after I had settled somewhere else, but – I definitely wanted to climb that. I would.

May I be a little more proficient in the language of this country than I am now by then, and if possible, may I get to have small talk in the tower.

With a modest goal and a new book, I treaded the way to Saul-san’s office.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #housekishou richard #jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #nakata seigi #richard #jr short story collection #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #novel #my translation

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

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Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him.

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do.

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.”

“ Old tattoo? “

Billy swallows audibly “scars.”

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer.

“ Dr. Pepper? “

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window.

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down.

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole.

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days.

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head.

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself.

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be.

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?”

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?”

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now.

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility.

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing.

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken.

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars. Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand.

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

#billy hargrove x reader #Billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Sickness and Afflictions

todoroki shouto x reader; bakugou katsuki x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

a/n: one crushes your heart. the other one fills it. pick your poison. bitch... this made me sad and happy....

Part Two ; Alt Ending

todoroki shouto

You had been happy in your relationship with Shouto. Happiness and longevity seemed to be something coined for the two of you. But you knew that you were the first real relationship he had.

Recently, Shouto was becoming better acquainted with his family. Often spending his free days with his family instead of spending it with you. Which wasn’t an issue in your opinion, but it was three months since this started… and you only ever saw Shouto at night when he would come to bed past midnight. You were becoming upset by this, and whenever you voiced your emotions he was quick to ignore you.

The reality of your relationship was that you were not happy at this moment. You were also sure you did not wish to break up with him… but you wanted effort. Today was your birthday, and you hadn’t received a single acknowledgment from him about it. Today was your day off and he didn’t so much as kiss you goodbye today when he left for work as you woke up.

Today, you sat at the kitchen table at nine at night, waiting for him to come home. Your fingers play with a gift you bought for the two of you as a way to get him to go somewhere with you.

Some part of you wishes that he isn’t here because he has some elaborate plan. That these past few months, he’s been making you insecure for this very night. That Shouto’s waiting for you to cave first so he can expose his birthday celebration plans. But you know better to assume that, Shouto has never been spontaneous like that.

So today, instead of celebrating with friends, you waited for Shouto to come back home.

One hour passed.

Two hours more.

It’s no longer your birthday when the front door opens and closes. Your weary eyes staring at Shouto who walks in, slippers on his feet, exhaustion on his face.

Your eyes lock with his, and you break the gaze to continue down his body. There’s no card in sight.

“Why are you coming home so late?” You ask placing your chin onto your hand. Your eyes boring into your boyfriend’s ambivalent aura.

“Long day at work.” Was his response and it irked you.

“Midoriya-san posted a video of you and your classmates at a bar. Why are you lying?”

“We only went in celebration of—“

“Bakugou’s early birthday celebration, yeah. I know.” You snark back, your hand dropping on the table and a frown on both your faces.

“I’m not in the mood to have a lecture right now. Especially since you know everything there is to know.” Shouto voice drips with sarcasm as he tries walking away.

“Only because if I don’t you won’t ever talk to me!” You exasperate standing up. The sounds of the chair scraping against the floor echoes through the apartment.

Shouto stares at you, his heterochromia eyes feeling empty, lifeless.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.” You repeat, your bottom lip quivering. You try not letting your feelings overwhelm you. Desperate not to give him a reason to walk away. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Keeping your business to yourself?” Shouto steely response. His upper lip presses into his bottom one. “Why do you need to know everything?”

You blink many times, your mouth dropping with failed sentences.

“You’re my boyfriend,” You’re slow to respond. “I’m curious and concerned because you’re my boyfriend.”

“If you’re going to be telling me things I already know, I don’t see the point of me listening to you.”

You laugh, unsure of what was wrong with him. In your inability to speak, Shouto begins walking away. His arm hitting your shoulder causing you to stumble.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You seethe, your eyebrows scrunched as you push his back. He stills, not turning around. Your mind now in overdrive. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you! A conversation, Shouto! Something we haven’t done in fucking months! And you’re— you’re ruining it!!”

Shouto turns around, his face dark, his own eyebrows crunched as his lips are curling into a scowl. “Let’s make this clear, I’m not ruining anything here. I’m busy, y/n, I have a fucking job that requires utmost concentration and dedication. I can’t be waiting on your every demand and need. Don’t pretend that you didn’t know that coming in.”

“Of course I fucking knew that coming in! I’m the damn best fucking support employee Japan has! I’ve dealt with shit for you fucking heroes! I can see that you’re busy! But you’re not always busy! You just don’t spend any free time with me! And that’s what’s bugging me!”

That one complaint sends both of you over the edge. And insults pour out of both of your mouths. Eventually, you’re both just saying things to make the other upset.

You were too clingy. Demanding. Impatient. Unclean.

He was too bitchy. Completely unavailable. Dense. Opinionated.

He scrutinized what you had gotten him for Christmas. Claiming it was insensitive and embarrassing to open in front of his family.

You retorted that at the very least you had gotten him a present! You further added to the fact that he refused to meet your family.

He fought that you shouldn’t be too sensitive all the damn time because you’re a grown adult. Not some child.

It circles back to him not being attentive, the two of you in each other’s faces.

Red.

Angry.

Yelling.

“I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe you my time, my energy, or my presence. If you’re not happy with it, why the hell are you here?” Shouto growls at you, his face dark.

“Because you mean everything to me, you fucking dick?! Something I’m not ready to give up! Is it that hard to fucking see that I want to be here?!”

“I don’t owe it to you to spend my free time with you,“ Shouto repeats. “You’re my girlfriend, not a pet!”

“Oh, no, sorry!!! I forgot because if I was a pet, I would be getting much more love and affection than this!! You know what, Shouto? This is my place. This is my apartment, and you still have the fucking audacity to show up with this attitude? For someone who loathes Endeavor as much as you do, you sure don’t act any fucking different from him.” You hiss centimeters from his face.

Your mind doesn’t even register the terrible words that come out of your mouth. All you know if that pure rage manifests upon Shouto’s own.

“Don’t you dare fucking compare me to him. You know nothing about what it was like living up with him.” Shouto seethes, as his body stiffens, his eyes dark and angry.

“Let me guess, always distant and cruel? Emotionally manipulative? Using the people in his life for his own advantage? Seeing only his own fucking feelings and no one else’s? Hm, and the real question is who am I describing?! Pro-Hero Endeavor or Shouto?!”

Shouto’s right-hand grips your forearm, shocking you at the sudden movement from him. But Shouto’s too angry to notice that his quirk activates in his moment of anger and frustration. Ice cold burning pain shoots down your arm. It not until you’re sobbing out in pain does he see the blistering ice burns on your forearm and the tears in your eyes. And fear fills his being.

You rip your forearm from his grasp. Baffled and choking sobs leaving your lips as you examine the blistering skin. You tremble as you cry.

He burned you.

Shouto burned you and he wasn’t even apologizing. All he was doing was staring.

Your eyes rip away from your burned arm and stare at Shouto. A new sadness burning through you. “I only wanted you to show me that I mattered today… it was my birthday today. No yesterday Shouto… it was my fucking birthday! But… I get it now, how much I annoy you, and how much you’re unhappy with me but… still. It was my birthday and you didn’t speak to me or acknowledge it at all yesterday.” Your voice resonates with broken, cracked, and defeated tones.

Your throat tightens with overwhelming sadness as pain throbs through your arm. But it’s nothing in comparison to the pain in your heart. You cry as you walk to the table grabbing the white envelope in your hands as you give it to him.

“Take this, it’s yours…! I’m… going to the hospital to get this fixed up… please don’t be here when I get back. …we—we are…” Your voice cracks again as you know what you have to say, but don’t want to say. It’s too late to fix these mistakes. “We’re done. Please have Midoriya come pick up your things. I don’t want to see you, ever again.”

You don’t even conceal the flowing tears as you clutch your burnt arm to your chest. You want him to say something, anything! Anything to convince you that this has only been a few bad months, but that this was the extent of it.

But still, even in defeat, he won’t budge to your will. “Leave the key under the mat, goodbye Todoroki.” You whisper completely defeated as you turn on your heel and leave the apartment.

Shouto goes to open the envelope you gave him, unsure of what it is. But he freezes at the sight of the address. ‘for shouto so that you can have fun with boring old me!’

Shouto unravels a letter within the envelope and reads it over.

‘dear shouto, I don’t know how to start a letter! is it like this? oh well!!!! I figured you were going to get me something I would love for my birthday. so I went ahead and got us this! two tickets to go, drumroll please, see the All Might museum that just opened!!! yes! you read it correctly!!! so I know you and all your friends somehow lost the lottery system for getting it among the Pro-Heroes. don’t panic, we support techs are smarter. we bid on them like feral animals. this ended up costing me ¥125,000!!! totally worth it in my stance. I know somethings been off with us lately, and I’m not all that sure what it is, but I do love you. like a lot. I’m just at this point unsure if I did anything in specific to make you mad? god, I hope not… anyways!!! I know we’ll get over it, we always do!! I love you Todoroki Shouto, and I’m so excited to get to go to this museum with you!!!! love - y/n’

A splitting headache overcame Shouto. His heart is frozen as he stared at the two tickets for special entrance to this museum. It was made out for today, the day after your birthday. A birthday that slipt his mind until your choked up voice reminded him of it.

Shouto sank to the ground, tears falling from his eyes. Oh.

He fucked up big time.

bakugou katsuki

On god, you were going to murder your boyfriend.

How could someone so smart be this dumb?

This entire day he had been avoiding you like a ninja and simply ignoring your every action to get him to open up. It was pissing you off! He was acting like a damn cat instead of a human being.

“Katsuki, I swear, if you don’t eat this goddam soup and medicine, I WILL murder you!” You snap through the bathroom door.

The countless amounts of dry heaving coughs, sniffles, and sneezes heard from the door. You still continue to bang the on wall despite him ignoring you. “Soup is fucking disgusting, and medicine can suck my balls!” Bakugou’s voice weakly snaps back. The sickness heavy in his throat. You can hear him retching just a little bit.

How the mighty fall when they’re sick. But Bakugou fell hard. Plus he refused anything to make himself better! He was more typically relying on his own body to make him better. Which was dumb! But this was week three of him being this way, he needed something stronger than his own immune system.

“If you don’t open this door, I’ll find someone who can kick the door down. Like Deku!”

“Like hell, you would, shitty woman. Even like this, I can kick his ass across the country and—and—ACHOO!!” The crackling of his quirk goes off.

Yes, the worst part of Bakugou being sick was that he was no longer as in control of his quirk.

You grumble as you place the piping hot soup and medicine bottle onto the hallway counter. You walked to the kitchen grabbing your spare bathroom key. You opened it up to find Bakugo sweating profoundly. His body shivering, yet wrapped up in five blankets. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was plugged up with a tissue.

He looked disgusting.

“Don’t you dare,” He croaks slightly, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You grab the damn soup and medicine and put it on the bathroom counter. Bakugou was trying to escape. But he was weaker than he typically was only because he would get a migraine from standing up. “Oh no, you’re not going fucking anywhere, dumbass!” You snap at Bakugou as you put your full weight onto his hips, trying to keep him pinned down.

Bakugou won’t let you challenge him like this, and is very quick to fight back. So there the two of you were, wrestling in the bathroom. Your healthy body pressed against his clammy and sweaty one, but still, he’s able to keep up with you.

“Let go of me, shitty woman! I don’t fucking need that crap!”

“Your nose is just about dripping on me, idiot! You’re taking the damn medicine!”

Bakugou’s hand clutched your forearms, ready to throw you off him. But he freezes, and your eyes widen in the horror of having his hands on you. And as he sneezes before he can pull away, his sweaty hands exploding against your arms.

“OH MY GOD!” You scream, scorching pain exploding against your skin. You pulled away from Bakugou, your arms quivering as you watched red blisters form on your arms.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry!” Bakugou sneezes again, his fingertips exploding.

“You burned me!” You shriek, unsure on how to feel about your boyfriend using his quirk on you.

“Well, I told you to leave me alone!” Bakugou throws back at you, and youthrust your burned arms his way.

“Yeah, still! Also, WHY do you have zero control over your quirk when you’re sick?! YOU’RE SO ANNOYING!” You cackle despite the pain as Bakugou blows his nose before crawling over to you grabbing your arms.

“Stay here, shitty woman,” Bakugou says after examining your burnt arms.

You watch as Bakugou stands up and goes to the medicine cabinet and pulls out some burn salve he owned. He often got burns from overexerting his quirk, and it seemed that you were going to be the one using it today.

“This is why you need to leave me alone when I’m sick,” Bakugou grumbles as his clammy fingers touch your arms. The soothing balm kicking in at the slightest touch.

“NO, what you need to do is to let me take care of you, dumbass!” You counter, shoving him with your foot. “You’re sick, and you could’ve been better five days ago had you just let me take care of you.”

His eyes look up at yours when he’s done applying the balm, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Fine.”

Within a day you get him to feel better, but now it’s your nose that’s running. Chills running down your spine as Bakugou shoved soup down your throat.

"You’re gonna eat this damn soup.” Bakugou snaps as you groan.

Why was this soup literally the worst?

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki scenario #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou scenarios #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha bakugou #mha #mha x reader #mha todoroki #mha bakugou #todoroki angst #bakugou fluff

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lnarizakis · 4 years

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧COACHES DON’T PLAY

MONTHLY NEWSLETTER #6

HOT OFF THE PRESS ! Thanks for picking up the sixth monthly newsletter of the school year! Not what you’re looking for? Please view the masterlist [here]!

EXTRA ! miya osamu x fem! reader. 1.4k words. original characters.

Coming back to school the following day seemed like a task already for the poor (Y/N). Pouring out her emotions onto paper was tiring enough, save for the fact that the clock struck midnight when she did so. Her tired eyes didn’t register the onlookers as she made her way into the school, sitting at her desk just to get the day over with.

As she sat at her desk waiting for class to begin, she could feel the presence of Osamu next to her, and the tension between them grew. (Y/N) could feel Osamu wanting to say something; the potential mixed with the tension. With an arm propped on the desk she made sure to face the other way to show Osamu she was not to speak with him.

Her eyes found purchase on the door, which opened to reveal her former colleague, the writer who sat across from her in the club room. His eyes scanned the room to land on (Y/N), and as he made his way over to her, the pressure in her chest built up to stiffen her movements. (Y/N) remained stiff as he requested that she come to the newspaper club room after school. She gave him a curt nod, hoping that he’d leave right as she responded silently, which he did.

When he left, Osamu found it was time for him to say something. “You think they’ll let ya back in the club?”

Turning to him, she gave him another question in return. “You know?”

“The whole school knows.”

It was a mistake for him to say that, he realized, as (Y/N) dragged her head down to lightly slam her forehead down on the hard surface of the desk, groaning aloud.

—

After school, (Y/N) stalled as much time as she could before making her way to the newspaper club room. Everyone emptied the classroom to leave her all by herself. It was therapeutic in a sense, as she felt a wave of calmness wash over her, followed shortly after by a rush of anxiety, wondering what they were to tell her.

As (Y/N) neared the club room, she passed by the cooking club, where she found Osamu standing nonchalantly outside. He seemed to have been waiting for someone, but she wasn’t sure for whom. For Asai, she thought, but they had already broken up.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he called out to her, beckoning her over to where he stood. “I’m just waiting for Asai, but I think she’s gonna take a while.”

“For Asai?” A pause. “How come?”

“She asked me to,” he told (Y/N). “She wants to stay friends.”

Staying silent, the expression on her face gave away what she thought, which Osamu noticed.

“I know you’re a little confused as to why, but I think you should talk to the chief editor about it. Sato, I think, is his name.”

“Yeah, Aki-san,” (Y/N) added.

“Yeah, him.”

An awkward silence.

She then asked Osamu, “So, why’re you here at the cooking club? I thought the volleyball club was your top priority.”

“Oh, it is,” he replied, “It’s just that the cooking club has two mandatory meetings every school year. I hafta attend this meeting to stay in the club. I actually really enjoy cooking.”

(Y/N) set her gaze towards the floor, observing her shoes and noticing the close proximity of his.

“I can tell,” she said. “Do you think you’re going to take up cooking in the future?”

“Maybe. It would be nice.”

“You should,” she encouraged, “It’ll be a success; I can tell. Your passion will make the food taste much better, too.”

Osamu gave a low chuckle, amused by the flowery meaning of her words. “You and your ways with writing. I’m glad to have met ya, (Y/N).”

“And I’m glad to have met you, too.”

The door to the cooking club opened to emphasize Asai’s voice as she exited the room, and before Asai could see (Y/N) standing with Osamu, she bolted towards the newspaper club room.

Upon opening the door, she heard Aki’s voice loud and clear. “Welcome back, (Y/N).”

She stayed tense by the doorframe, clammy hand latched onto the doorknob. There was an awkward expression on her face, not knowing if she was being welcomed back into the club.

“Come in, take a seat, (Y/N).” Aki’s voice seemed a little too cheerful for her to do anything else, so she complied, sitting across from where Aki sat. It was the all-familiar scene that happened just only a few days ago.

“I received a call from your cousin. He told me about your… dilemma.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips at his choice of words, but she let him continue by nodding.

“And you know how much I respect him. He’s one of the best writers I’ve ever known. I had to pay attention to what he told me and take into consideration what he said, and… I’ve demoted Asai. He wanted me to kick her from the club, but I know she deserves a second chance. However, defaming you is a serious offense, so she needs the reprimand to show her where she stands. She’s no longer your editor, (Y/N). She’s your secretary now. She works for you.”

She had no idea what to say. Forever? Until she graduated, she meant? It was such a rush of information into her head that she wasn't able to process it all.

“Okay…” she stammered. Aki smiled.

“I’ve also promoted you, (Y/N). You’re the head writer of the newspaper club now. Your cousin opened my eyes to his confidence that he has in you, and I see it too. Your writing is a tremendous feature in our newspaper and everyone that picks it up is a huge fan of what you write. Be proud of it, (Y/N), own it.”

“Thank you,” was all she managed to say. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. I really didn’t expect to hear this, Aki-san.”

“You mean that Asai hasn’t told you anything of what I’ve told you?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“Well!” he exclaimed, clasping a hand onto your shoulder as he stood up. “She’s already failing as a secretary! I might as well kick her off the club at this point!” The two of them laughed heartily, and (Y/N) was glad to see the change in emotion of her ever-stoic chief editor, happy to hear him laughing.

As Aki ushered her out of the club room, he told her to enjoy the rest of her day, telling her to attend the meeting tomorrow.

—

The next day, (Y/N) walked into the classroom with a spring in her step. She sat in her seat, greeting Osamu a good morning. He hastily finished what he was typing on his phone, and tucked it safely into the pocket of his jacket.

“G’morning,” he said. “Glad to see you happy.”

(Y/N) hated to admit that she still felt warm in the face as he noted her mood. “Thanks. What were you just doing?”

“Nothin’. I was just sendin’ something.”

“Ah, okay.”

Later that day, after school, (Y/N) walked into the newspaper club room to be greeted by all of her colleagues, even a grumbling Asai. She spared (Y/N) the slightest of glances as she recorded minutes on her computer.

“Welcome back, (Y/N)!” The colleague who told her to come by after school the previous day greeted her. She returned the brightest of smiles to him as she sat down at her own computer. He told her that there’s a letter waiting for her to answer.

Already? She was, at the least, appalled. Someone was already waiting to send her a letter for the dating column? As (Y/N) opened up her email to read the letter, it was a sight she didn’t expect at all. Though, it was a sight that brought a fiery glint in her eye, a sight that pulled her in as a coach to come play on the court.

Dear Dating-san,

My name is Miya Osamu and I am in Class 2-1. I have written letters to you in the past, and I hope that this response will be just as helpful as the others. After coming out of a bad relationship, I began to realize that I never felt anything special for my ex-girlfriend, but for the one person that’s stood by my side since our first year.

I recently had a conversation with her that sorta made me realize these feelings to the fullest. I wanna give her feelings a chance, and I was just wondering how I should do so. I’m so close to falling for her, I just need the extra push.

Thanks again.

From, Miya Osamu of Class 2-1.

taglist: thank you for supporting ! [ @lcaita @reogou @alienvarmint @annalyn-annalyn @kunimwuah @wansseul @anime-simp @dorkyama @keiyoomi @studywoo @steggy4ever @wheelzzzies @kaoyuuuuu @sadkaashistan @waitforitillwritemywayout @datweirdonextdoor ]

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #hq osamu x reader #coaches dont play

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a-square-minus-one · 4 years

Text

Honey 5

Sexual suggestiveness ahead. Please be aware that this story is Rated M and meant only for those 18 years and older.

“Your brother?” Nightwing asks, leaning back in his seat. Raven watches as his eyes glaze over. He’s running through plans in his head before she even gives him a full account of their opponent. Raven nods, although Nightwing isn’t fully paying attention at this point. She looks at all her teammates who are much more attentive.

“I will assume that you do not hold brotherly affection for this man?” Starfire asks. Raven nods again.

“Trigon has fathered hundreds of sons after me, but the six following me are the most powerful. Each of their powers coincide with the seven deadly sins.”

“But there are only six of them?” Garfield asks, his folded hands are supporting his chin as he leans in close.

“I’m the seventh,” Raven says. That stops the questions for a few moments.

“But you powers aren’t-” Cyborg pauses, rubbing his bald head. “Sinly?”

Raven quirks her eyebrows. “Shooting black energy from my fingertips not dark enough for you?”

“You know what I mean,” Cyborg grumbles. Raven nods.

“The pride within you is tangible to me; I can manipulate it,” Raven says, crossing her legs. The team looks at her with parted lips. It was like their questions hung like weights on their lower jaw. She sighs. “I can play with the levels of pride in you so that it obscures all other systems. Biological. Mental. Emotional.”

“Wait, so you can sense how proud we are?” Garfield asks. Raven nods. “You must have a joy ride with boy wonder over there.”

Nightwing scoffs. Garfield lifts his hands up, not even trying to erase his crooked smile.

“Why have you never used this power before?” Nightwing asks, finally escaping the wheel that’s turning in his head.

“Why haven’t I turned someone into something they’re not?” Raven asks, hoping that in asking the question, Nightwing already found his answer. Nightwing seems to understand her as he leans back in his seat. Raven still feels the need to answer as the rest of her team stares at her expectantly.

“The villains we face rarely have a deficiency in pride. Besides, pride is a tricky thing. Given too much you will become foolish and illogical, convinced you have the right answer to everything. But given just enough,” Raven lets her eyes linger over Nightwing. “You become a detail oriented, confident leader.” Nightwing bows his head gracefully.

“The thing is, there is no set amount of pride that divides the foolish people from the well adjusted. Most of us have momentary spikes in our pride. There is no telling whether these spikes are good or bad. It’s dependent on how people use it. I don’t have the foresight to tell you how someone will react if they’re made more proud.”

“‘Cept for Adonis,” Garfield says, then blushes when all eyes turn to him. “What? That guy is always one spike of pride away from falling on his own sword.” Raven ponders that and shrugs.

“I’m not in the occupation of guessing someone’s limits. Besides it’s different when he’s in animal form.”

“How?” Garfield asks, leaning into the conversation. Raven pauses.

“My ability to sense emotions works best on humans.”

“You are able to sense mine,” Starfire chimes in. Raven nods at her.

“Things like happiness and sadness essentially feel the same in all beings. Between full human beings, the difference in how they feel emotions is almost imperceptible. But your body is wired differently. You’re Tamaranean and I have not enough access to Tamaraneans to get any baseline data on what your emotions read like. For example, your powers are connected with your ability to feel happiness. You practice happiness constantly, therefore your happiness is more potent. Because your happiness is so loud, it can be difficult for me to register the extent of your sadness.”

“It must be difficult to sense what I’m feeling,” Garfield says in a thoughtful whisper. Raven looks at him. “Every animal I turn into has different motivations. Some of them can be very strong.”

“Your animal forms are never permanent. While you can rearrange your DNA, it’s never fully stable. Your body will always want to revert to your human form,” Raven says. When she thinks about it though, Raven knows there is another form always pulling at Garfield’s control. She purses her lips, pausing to figure out where she’s going with this. “No matter which form you take, there is always something essentially you that I can sense clearly because I know...well I know you.” Garfield looks at her. Raven clears her throat.

“And I know Star,” Raven says, moving her gaze from Garfield to Starfire. “I can sense what both of you are feeling but sometimes it can be a little harder for me to give it a name.”

“So the brother on the footage? Which is he?”

“Jesse. Envy.”

The team is silent for a while.

“Alone they’d be dangerous. Together, coupled with someone who understands centuries of mystical arts…” Raven trails off. Nightwing nods two times, evenly, militaristically. Every once and a while Raven has to marvel at how certain Nightwing can be about things completely out of his element.

“Why are your brothers attacking now?” Nightwing asks in a way that makes it clear to Raven that not knowing is not an option. She pauses.

“My brothers’ motivations are tied directly to my father’s.”

“Cool so we’re up against old ass magic dragon, sin and evil incarnate,” Garfield runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his roots a little.

“We need to cut this plan off at the roots,” Nightwing says, ignoring Garfield’s comment. “We start with Trigon.” Raven’s is rarely overcome with emotion but she has to fight to trap the sardonic chuckle bubbling from her chest behind her closed lips.

“Trigon is trapped in another dimension,” Raven says with a finality that would make anyone else drop the subject.

“So was Malchior,” Nightwing says quickly. His four teammates snap their heads to him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking to the floor.

“You’re not wrong,” Raven says after a moment, then shrugs one shoulder. “But Malchior’s escape is much easier than Trigon’s. Very few beings are able to traverse multiple planes of existence and even fewer are able to go where I put Trigon. Setting him free would be a marvelous feat indeed.”

“Never underestimate your enemies,” Nightwing says, pressing a fist into his palm.

“I don’t. I don’t deny that my brothers are more than likely searching for a way to free my father but he is not yet a part of the equation. We start with my brothers.”

“And if they manage to free your father?”

“Then at least we won’t have to deal with evil incarnate and sin and an old ass magical dragon,” Raven says. Garfield raises his hand for a high five. Raven looks at it before tapping away at the touchscreen in front of the team. Garfield grumbles.

“We need to get supplies to protect ourselves and the tower from sinful influe-”

“Hate to interrupt sister but you were all moving at such a snail’s pace.”

Raven pulls up a protective barrier around her friends before they can even register that someone else is in the room. The man in front of her doesn’t even blink as he plops down on the sofa. Nightwing moves forward purposefully but Raven pushes him back with her powers.

“Leave the barrier and he will play with you like a toy.”

“Now, now, pretty vessel you know we can only enhance people’s natural inclinations,” Jacob says, propping one leg on the back rest of their sofa while the other hangs limply off the edge of the seat. He is sprawled out like a Greek god. His head rolls back. “May I say, this is quite the incestuous little family you have. The lust was rampant when I walked in the room. Although I shouldn’t be surprised Malchior has spoken of your...appetite.”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh why don’t you just drop the barrier? It’s not like you can hold it for much longer anyways. Besides, playing with your friends is not why I am here.”

“You expect me to trust you?” Raven’s voice wavers under the strain of protecting her friends. Even now she can feel Jacob probing the weakest parts of her barrier.

“No I suppose not,” Jacob says, sending the group a crooked smile. He runs his hand slowly up his leg, over his muscular thigh, and drops it dangerously close to the bulge in his unitard. Then he chuckles.

“Our brothers have sent me to ask you to join our endeavours in freeing our father.” “I’d rather die.”

“Ah I said much the same to them. You are much too proud,” Jacob chuckles. It sounds like a bell.

“Original.”

“Ooh your sentences are getting much shorter. I bet I could push through this barrier of yours now,” Jacob says, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically and sitting up properly in one quick, smooth movement. He eyes Nightwing from head to feat. “I’ve pushed through my fair share of barriers in this lifetime.”

Jacob winks. Raven clenches her teeth.

“Alas, I don’t feel much like straining myself today although I can assure you my brothers do not know the same restraint. They wanted me to force you to join our side. But I think your high and noble friends wouldn’t let you turn yourself over to us even if I did say...peel their skin off in front of you,” Jacob says. He reaches for a lollipop in the candy basket they keep in the common room and peels off the wrapper. He swirls his tongue slowly over the confection. “Well, I will not waste my energy.”

Jacob eyes run over the Titans one by one, watching as their muscles twitch with the desire to hurt him. He feels like laughing.

“Protect your tower, conduit. Protect your friends. But as I tell all my lovers, be prepared for the full weight of us.”

Jacob moves to walk out their front door and Raven feels her barrier weaken significantly. Before he leaves Jacob looks over his shoulder with a lascivious smirk.

“And do try to lay with the green one at least once. Your thirst for each other is simply pathetic.”

Jacob leaves.

#bbrae

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popcornbutterflymedia · 3 years

Text

the teen show genre is back. that it had announced it’s grand return at such a time of deep uncertainty and unimaginable loss, especially for an entire generation of teenagers, is relief, respite, and a necessary and urgent gain. there is nothing but gratitude for this...for its intended audience and for those of us who will live vicariously through the lives of the kids, for those of us who will watch, and walk with the kids. for someone like me who longs to feel strongly about a story enough to write again.

despite my ‘desperate begging’ for the return of the youth oriented show. i did not picture this. in my defense, i did not know about this story at all. now, when i did learn the gist of the story, i did not expect much. it is, after all, a trope we’ve repeatedly seen in practically every language. in my defense, again, i would have found this show, and watched it anyway, in support of the network, probably be mildly entertained, slightly amused, and successfully distracted. and that would have been enough. i was bound to find this show, though during a deep dive into the youtube rabbit hole, chancing upon a japanese doll and an american cutie, realizing the creative team for this show is that creative team. my favorite creative team. i was sold.

i knew i was going to love this show enough to write. the question is, how? do i live tweet, take notes, and write a post for every episode, or do i live tweet take notes, listen, take notes and write one big post at the end of the series? judging by how much detail i know this team puts into a story in the form of metaphors, seeds, pay offs, connection and clues, clearly obvious in this first episode alone, this calls for an episodic post, for the peace of my own nerdy, detailed obsessed mind.

it is worth repeating that i haven’t read the book. this focuses on the series alone. no references, no comparison to its source material.

and it begins. oddly so.

first, a note on the casting: my attachment to a show is dependent on my attachment to the cast of the show. i spent the weeks and months leading up the pilot episode learning as much as i can about this refreshing cast of newbies. i’d been watching rise since it began, and so it wasn’t difficult to develop a soft spot for the five rise kids who are part of the show. as for the rest of the cast, their interviews and streams are all surprisingly impressive. i always like to say ‘walang patapon sa mga batang ito.’ none at all. they are all so special that i am in awe of how many gifted children are in one batch at one time, in time for a show like this. the teen show slot was vacant because it was waiting for these specific kids.

everyone who was given moments on this episode made the most of their moments. episode one’s surprises were criza, who is a natural. i am just grateful naih was able to use all of criza’s kulit energy. gelo, i’ve known is funny, but it wasn’t until i saw him in character that i realized just how hysterical he is. i enjoyed his interaction with ysay, i am wondering if there is more of that. v no longer surprises. i find that she is incredibly underrated still. i love that girl. fictional life sometimes clouds my judgement, ever so slightly, but these mean girls, are the mean girls i would cheer for. i’ve just been enjoying the girls’ junket interviews so much that it is also a joy to watch them in character. aimee is spunky, sophie is incredibly poised. khloe is a joy to watch, and ash just fits in, dalia...i have never seen a girl with such strong presence and beauty since hopie. i have never enjoyed watching a local queen bee as much as i feel i would enjoy, and hate to watch kim. dalia is amusing to watch too, so there’s that. joao, you know i have always found reliable and competent. limer, i am just happy an actor like him is in a show as big as this. kaorys is my in on this show. they are favorites. i adore them. she registers well on camera, and rhys is music to my ears, and has such an animated, expressive face. i cannot wait to watch their subplot and write about them in detail. i am attached to these kids. i know they are going to be a joy to watch.

melizza, melizza deserves her own paragraph. i first paid attention to when she was answering those miss universe questions on rise, and my jaw literally dripped at how intelligent she is. that intelligence shines through in her portrayal of elle. she is self-aware, and aware of her co-stars in a scene. she is conscious of where she is in a scene. she does she is a realiable actress in that there is no fear that she will break character it doesn’t have to be her scene, but i cannot help but watch her. she isn’t a scene stealer, but she is always acting, always reacting. she gets the assignment: from speaking french to playing a nuanced mean girl whose meanness, is as she understands and plays elle, stems from fear, from being threatened. i actually love that. there is no real villain in this story, just kids navigating unfamiliar, ugly, strange feelings, with limited ways to express these feelings. melizza gets it. i said i am a melizza fan now. i mean it.

donny and belle individually: i had known of donny, watched him long enough to know him, and who his family is. since he started mostly on social media, this ate didn’t quite get the appeal. no offense, it’s just a generational thing. haha! when he started acting, he was like most greenhorns to me, appeal understandable, charming to an extent, but with still so much to learn. i missed his last acting stint before this show. i did not watch jpd.

belle is a going bulilit alum. that’s all i really need to know to trust the casting. i wasn’t a fan yet. i had no clue about the story so i did not know just how much weight the character carried, but by virtue of the fact that she’s been acting the longest out of the ensemble, i knew she knew what she would be doing. i knew the management knew what they were doing when they casted her. belle as the focal point of the story lends such an air of confidence that the story will be told well and that the necessary intimacies will be handled with care. belle’s ability to transform would make max’s arc effective. i did not watch jpd. i had heard about it.i had heard it was surprise. ‘the ending part...’ it was all too familiar: lizquen, circa 2012, must be love: ‘the ending...’

it was completely blind, complete trust.

their casting made me momentarily forget that there were multiple rounds of auditions, from which the each of the cast were carefully picked. it just seemed so random, that is, in context of say, kaori and rhys that could count kuya’s house as part of their shared history. so much of my acceptance of this new pairing depended on how much i trusted the team, and how i knew they worked. i then consumed any and all donbelle content i could find, which, at that time was painfully lacking. imagine the excitement when that first general assembly officially kicked off the hih junket, from then on, they started to grow on me.

these are two calm, cool, collected kids, with a kulit side for sure, but they both take their sweet time. there is a formality and wide open space that was begging to be bridged with these two. there were times i would will myself to see it. theirs isn’t an instant explosion of chemistry, but a sustained afterglow. once that was clear, the goal of sustaining this partnership for however long, how many other stories they can tell together, also became clearer.

it was the tv patrol interview by the lockers that had me sold. it was him joking that they were already married with three kids. it was the way he looked at her in that interview, the way he still does, with donbelle, it’s all the little, quiet things. i don’t know how to explain it, but if they were to jump into the emotional deep end together, i have no fear.

now, back to the beginning which i thought was strange. a recap of what i imagine is the entire first season, artistic as it may be, is one huge spoiler. i realized, this is based on a book. those who’ve read it obviously know what’s going to happen. such opening is meant to set the mood. it’s an invitation to emotionally invest. it’s safe to say, it accomplished those two goals, but i feel as though there is more to that opening. as someone who is clueless about the source material, it reassures that it doesn’t matter what we know, or don’t know, because this is less a story of ‘what?’ and more a story of ‘whys?’ and ‘hows?’this takes me back to the first general assembly when comparisons to the meteor garden, boys over flowers were brought up. i understand the comparisons, but now that the first episode has aired, i feel so strongly against it.

this introductory montage is proof that it is not about the pieces of the story, but how the pieces are moved around to tell a story, to give us a fresh new perspective of a trope, starring stereotypical characters. the story is told in retrospect, with our lead looking back, taking all the pieces of the whole apart, rather than building the story as she goes along (which is incidentally how i like to take in stories).

the introductory montage is a device that allows a more expanded storytelling. the story is told from max’s point of view. it’s a story of how she sees things, this makes her an unreliable narrator due to her blind spots and clouded judgement. as the story goes along, the audience sees that it is not only max’s story, it is deib’s as well, and the rest of the characters’ stories, max only sees the bigger picture in retrospect. because i am such a nerd, imagine my kilig when i realize why that choice for an opening was made? i may have screamed.

notes, questions, favorite moments.

belle’s ‘sigurado,’ the first 4-5 notes of the hooked sprinkled throughout the episode.

on the road: the transition from max on the trike and deib, in his car rushing through a countryside road, if that was clean editing, i’d celebrate it...that the two people were on the same road at the same time travelling different directions is the most clever storytelling moment thus far. i love when seeds are planted and pay offs are grand. it was hardly a meet cute, but it was some intense head on collision. okay, i got it just then, the accident was a literal representation of their metaphorical colliding. it was a lot of things for her: irritation, wonder, disturbance, fascination, disruption. it was a complicated mix for him too, except clouded by the rush of having to be somewhere else other than that moment. charged. electric. spark. lightning that escaped him. (yup. more on that later).

this encounter begs the question: what was deib doing there? why was he in a rush?

the airport scene: ‘hinihintay ka na ng kapalaran mo.’ a beautiful verbal sign of things to come.

meeting daddy: it’s what uncertainty does to max that i find so disarming her fidgeting the heart shaped pendant close to her chest, summoning said heart for strength, and grace, counting on the assurance of its familiarity.

the car conversation with dad: still disarming. charming. curious. that the necklace from which hangs her heart shaped confidante was actually her dad’s gift to her mom. how heartwarming is the thought that the one thing that makes her feel close to her mom is actually from her dad who she is meeting for what i assume is the first time? i think it’s a beautiful irony.

the dinner table scene. the family dynamic it established. elle’s french, max wrestling with the chopsticks on the side.

sleepless max. her hidden vulnerability, and with whom that vulnerability finds comfort. who is babu?

max’s fist at the school entrance, and elle calling her out on it.

the cafeteria scene, and how that whole moment is the selling point of the story - brave max who does not care for the social rules of her new school standing up to the bully who happens to look the way he does. i won’t say she’s unaffected, but at that point her view is clouded with the injustice she just witnessed, that is until they recognize each other. as a side note: ysay and lorde’s interaction made me smile.

the aftermath. max has now caught the attention of the whole school, she has caught the attention of the mean girls so much so that walking down the halls is social suicide. when aimee confronted her, (sophie did so well!) my eyes looked for elle’s eyes. there were layers upon layers of emotion there: shame, hesitation, confusion, fear, maybe anger, there was a flash of her wanting to connect too, or did i just imagine it?

the gym scene with all the boys. it’s probably my favorite...not really, but it’s the scene that gave me so much, the scene that proved to me that this is more than just a simple, one dimensional teen show. this one moment spawned so many fan theories online that i have yet to read. it’s interesting when we cross that bridge, but to me for now, it is from this point up to the debate that kind of turned the tables, and gave the story a sudden depth that’s unexpected. it made the audience pay attention to deib as well, that this is as much his story too. and on the aspect of change, in one interview (i can’t remember which one), i remember belle describing max as someone who wants to change the people around her, and through that, she is changed as well. i did not understand what she meant at that time, until this. and the debate.

the debate: i just love the debate, simply because i love words, but long-winded dialogue like that is risky especially on a show like this. i loved it. i loved the rhythm, poetry, and point of it. i love how layered it is. i loved how comfortable was delivering his lines. i did not cringe, which just means he has gotten better at this whole acting thing, and it’s always a joy to watch someone breakthrough. this moment was necessary as a springboard to the next scene, to show that the rivalry isn’t just a physical one, but a rivalry of the minds too. (i enjoyed that that was pointed out in one of the kumu lives) this is also one of the scenes that proved what the introductory montage was trying to establish: that max is an unreliable narrator, that there are things she doesn’t see. i would say the tables have turned, and it has, but we also discovered that deib has always been the romantic, and max the realist. at that moment we know that max will be changed irrevocably. that ending took the wind out of me. that hurt, but it was thrilling too, made me excited for things to come.

‘love is like lightning.’ poor deib doesn’t know he has been struck by lightning, and is prone to the electricity of one. he doesn’t know it yet because of the gray sky gloom of his shattered heart.

the kiss is everything, it was shocking, kilig and all that, but in context of the story, it is more appealing more kilig to think of all the interactions that lead up to that accidental kiss, all the pent up tension in those interactions that is channeled into that meeting of lips. oh gosh! it just occurred to me, this kiss was predicated by such a verbose exchange just to prove a point, to win. it only took this kiss to shut both max and deib up. i would say there are no winners here. they are both losers to love. except. it’s still to early to call it, right?

in terms of the team up: implied as it is, this is what i mean when i say, i am unafraid for these two to go there, when necessary. there is such a safety i sense between donny and belle, in the way they care for each other. it’s beautiful.

to say that this show only promotes bullying to its young, impressionable target demographic, could not be more wrong. this show matters because it gives its characters (who are representative of today’s teen generation), complete arcs, and safe spaces for feelings no matter how ugly they are. it’s a show that allows teens to be teens, allows them to figure things out for themselves, a show that allows them to relate with one another, as they should. and the usual byproduct of emotional teens relating with one another is bullying. it’s not the best thing ever, but it is what it is. see, we can only pray and hope that the kids turn out to be good ones, but to expect kids to be perfect is out of the question. this is a work of fiction, of course there is a tinge of exaggeration. now, if you all are that bothered by the bullying, i hope there are adults watching with you. be kilig. have fun with the show, but always look deeper.

why do you think i needed three re-watches and few days for a post this long?

i am excited for the next episodes.

(if i think to add more, this will be edited).

#tv #tv: he's into her

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aquietwritingcorner · 4 years

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Comfortember 2020 Day 8: Lashing Out Word Count: 2141 Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl) Rating: T Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc Warnings: Summary: Riza is back from Ishval, but Havoc can tell that something isn’t right. He’s going to see if he can figure it out. Notes: Going back to some headcanons discussed with friends about how Riza and Havoc knew each other during their academy days.

Lashing Out

There had been something off about Riza since she had gotten back. Jean Havoc knew it the moment he saw her. Of course, he had expected it to some degree. He had an uncle that had gone off to war when he had just been a kid, and his memories of his uncle both before and after were very different. He just hadn’t expected such a big change in Riza Hawkeye. His uncle had been gone for years. She had only been gone for one.

Catalina had come to him, confessing her worry. According to her, Hawkeye didn’t want to do anything anymore. She didn’t want to go window shopping or try on new clothes. She didn’t want to go get ice cream. She didn’t even want to go dancing, which was something that she had loved to do before she left. She hardly slept, Catalina said, seemed to eat only because she was required to, and was far, far too quiet.

Havoc had a sneaking suspicion that the quiet was just a cover for some pretty nasty emotions that were lurking underneath. Hawkeye’d always had layers anyway. Another one to cover up more of herself seemed highly likely.

He’d quietly begun keeping a quiet eye on her, joining in when she and Catalina did go somewhere, or coming over to the small dormitory apartment the two girls shared. It wasn’t hard to see that something was wrong. But it was hard to catch her alone, seeing as she hardly went anywhere. One thing she did do, though, was to make regular trips to the range. She did it during times it wasn’t busy, took the last stall, and didn’t talk to anyone. She did her shooting, got up, left, and that was that.

It was there that Havoc was going to try to talk to her.

He arrived just a little bit before she did, and took her usual stall, getting himself all set up and ready. He heard her footsteps when she arrived, heard them falter, and then turn to look for another stall. He pretended he didn’t notice, although if she fell for it or not, he couldn’t tell. Of course, a little cash slipped the Range Master’s way, had ensured that the stall next to him would be the best one for her to choose so that he would get his chance. He heard her sigh, and then move to it, settling in.

For the next few moments, neither of them said anything, just shot their guns. He kept watch of what she shot and how she shot it. Almost none of her shots were kill shots. Hands, legs, shoulders—she looked like she was aiming to wound, not kill, and he took note of that. Snipers were trained to take kill shots. It was interesting that she wasn’t now. The few times she did make a kill shot, there was a hesitation afterwards. He wished he could hear her better, to see if she said anything or made any sort of sighs, but with the guns firing, there wasn’t much he could do about that.

He stayed as long as she did, only packing up his own things when he saw her doing the same. He knew that she’d know he was purposefully waiting for her to finish, but he wasn’t going to say anything if she didn’t. Instead, he quickly packed up and then leaned against her stall.

“Hey, Riza—shoulda known I’d have to track you down at the range to see you,” he said, teasingly when she turned around. “Glad I finally caught you.”

Something flash in her eyes, too quick and too unfamiliar for him to catch. “Jean, you’ve been around plenty,” she responded flatly.

“Yeah, but not just you and me,” he said.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a lot to take care of.”

It was a lie, and he knew it, but he didn’t call her out on it. “Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But it feels like I’ve not seen you since you got back from Ishval. Why don’t we catch up now?”

Riza had always been good at hiding her emotions, and now it seemed she was a master of it, but he was good at reading people. Havoc saw the slight tightening of her shoulders as they passed by the Range Master and headed off the shooting range.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can’t now.”

Havoc frowned at her as they turned to walk down the green back towards the locker rooms. “Why not?” he asked her. “Come on, I know you’re not on duty now. They gave everyone returning from Ishval time off. And Becca’s on duty today.”

She tensed up more. “I just can’t, Jean,” she said tersely.

He probably should have taken the hint, but something told him to keep pushing, just a bit further. “Ah, I see. Gotta avoid your new admirers since you got ba—"

He had meant it in a teasing way, that she was a pretty woman who probably had attracted attention, but she, apparently, didn’t take it that way. Almost before he registered it, she was whirling on him, lashing out at him, shoving him back and away from her with force. That was no shove between friends—that was something that was meant! It caught him off guard and he stumbled back.

“Stop it!” she yelled at him. “Don’t say that! Don’t—” her words seemed to catch in her throat, although she was still clearly angry.

“Don’t what?” he asked, his footing regained as he looked at her shock.

Something like guilt flashed through her eyes, and she whirled, stalking off towards the doors that led inside, but he wasn’t about to let her leave after that.

“Don’t what, Riza?” he said, quickly catching up with her, thanks to his long legs.

She wouldn’t look at him. “Just, don’t,” she hissed out, yanking the door open with force. The venom in her voice surprised him, but he kept following her as she bypassed the locker rooms and headed straight out, apparently deciding she didn’t need anything from them.

“Don’t what, Riza?” he pressed again. “What is it you don’t want me to do?”

“Nothing!” she said, and there was something unsteady in her voice. “Just leave me alone!”

“No,” he replied, and reached out put a hand on her shoulder, just to slow her down a bit.

That was a mistake.

Something in her welled up, and she lashed out at him again, physically, only this time it was more than a push. She shoved his hand off of her and reacted by swinging a punch. He ducked it, dancing back and using his long legs to his advantage to gain some ground. He cursed. For as in-control as she always was, she looked wild-eyed and a bit out of control now. He couldn’t let anyone see her like this. No one was around at the moment, fortunately, and so, with a bit of maneuvering—and a lot of ducking—he managed to bully her into a side room where he closed the door.

She was breathing hard, and something in her reminded him of a trapped animal. “Riza… calm down. Look, I’m not going to hurt ya.”

“You can’t—You--!” her words weren’t there, and she was clearly struggling to try to frame what she was thinking.

“I what?” he said. “Ri, please…” He took a step closer to her. “Let’s just take some time—”

He must have gotten too close, because she was swinging at him again. Riza was a skilled fighter, but something about it wasn’t right about this. It was frenzied, scattered, emotional. It wasn’t calculated or thought through. It was reactionary and sloppy.

“You can’t!” she was saying as she swung at him. “You—you can’t call me that! You--!”

He was perplexed as he tried to duck her blows. What was this? What was she so upset about? Her swings were losing force, and, he realized, she was starting to cry.

Her punches turned to weak beating against him that wasn’t comfortable but didn’t actually hurt him. “You can’t—you don’t—you—I—”

He caught her hands. “Riza…” his voice was soft. “What is this? What can’t I do?”

“You—you can’t—you can’t call me admirable,” she finally said. “I’m not! I’m—I’m—I’m a murder, Jean! Don’t you understand that!? I’m a murderer! I’m a murderer!”

She had stopped trying to beat on him and had, instead started to collapse against him. He had no idea what was going on, but he shifted his grip to where he could support her. The room they were in was an old furniture storage closet, and he maneuvered them to a hidden corner where they could sit down, hidden by the massive old desks and falling apart chairs. She let him take her there, let him ease her to the ground.

“Riza?” he said, his voice serious. “What are you talking about? What do you mean you’re a murderer?”

She shuddered and her breath caught for a moment. “—It—it wasn’t a war, Jean. It was an extermination campaign. It wasn’t just the fighters. It wasn’t just the men. It was the women, the children, the elderly. It was—Jean, it was everyone! I had to—they gave me orders to—I—I—”

She broke down on him, and he looked at her with a growing alarm in him. “They…gave you orders to what, Riza?” he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he also felt like he had to know.

She let out a sob. “…I shot old men, old women… mothers just trying to protect their children. They stationed me near a school and told me it was a training center and I was to shoot anyone who came out of it! And I did! I—I—!”

Horror at her words filled him, and she dissolved into sobs, not that he could blame her. He reached out, pulling her close to him as she sobbed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He just held her as she cried and waited until she had finally started to cry herself out. As her tears slowed, he pulled back a little.

“Feel better?” he asked her.

She nodded. “…I’m sorry for hitting you,” she said.

He shook his head. “I think you needed to get some stuff out.”

She sniffed. “Yeah…”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to bring things up, but he needed to know. “Riza, I want to know something. What was it that you didn’t want me to call you? I was just trying to tease about you being pretty, but you seemed to think of something different.”

Her cheeks gained the slightest red tint at that—or at least, he thought they did, under the redness brought on by tears—and she looked down. “Oh… I thought…” She was quiet for a moment, but Havoc waited. “…so many people have been saying how… impressive I am. Admirable. A Role Model. The Hawk’s Eyes, such a high kill count, did her duty, that’s who you need to aspire to be,” she said the last part like she was quoting something. “…all I am is a murder, and I can’t take it.”

Havoc frowned. That would be hard to deal with for anyone, much less a young woman like Riza, and he honestly had no idea how to help her deal with it. He sighed. “That’s got to be tough. I wish I knew how to help you.”

“…there’s not much you can do,” she said quietly.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe not,” he said, “but I’ll do what I can. Come on.” He stood up and offered her his hand.

She wiped at her eyes, and took it, letting him help her up. “What are you planning?”

“Well, first off, we’re gonna get you out of here without anyone seeing you. And then we’re going to go back to your and Catalina’s place, and I’m going to make you a proper meal and you’re going to relax. You won’t have to worry about putting on for anyone.”

She hesitated, clearly not sold on the idea.

But Havoc was adamant. “Not taking no for an answer, Ri,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She slumped and didn’t resist as he led her out. He took that as a good sign. There wasn’t much he could do for her, but at least he had been there for her to breakdown on, even if she did lash out at him. He honestly didn’t mind. He’d be here if she needed it again, as well. Jean Havoc didn’t abandon a friend in need, and he most especially didn’t abandon one Riza Hawkeye.

#comfortember #comfortember 2020 #Jean Havoc #Riza Hawkeye #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma fanfiction #fma fanfic #Fullmetal Alchemist fan fic #fullmetal alchemist fan fiction

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

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Bleach Sword Beasts Arc Recap: Episode 258

I debated whether to recap this episode, because to be honest, it’s pretty meh. I mean, it’s fine. I have no real complaints with it. It’s just kinda... there. However, my completionist attitude toward Renji ephemera won out, so here we go.

The episode opens with Renji and Zabimaru walking out of a senkaimon while some wokka-chikka music plays, so that’s always a strong start. The first thing that happens that a frog hops by and Hebi screams “A FROG!!”

Uhhhh, I guess they are here to chase down a Sword Beast. It’s clear that Renji and Saru are here for Business, and Hebi just wants to fuck around. He begs to be let off the chain, and they agree, which, as you might guess is a mistake.

You know, just typing this made me realize what is wrong keeps this episode from greatness-- it’s that Renji just sort of puts up with Hebi’s antics with a shrug and some tired dad vibes. How much better would this be if he responded, “Oh SHIT, I love a frog! Er, oh, yeah we got a mission.” If I had written this episode, it would just be one big metaphor for Renji’s ADHD, and that’s probably why no one lets me write anime filler episodes.

LOOK AT THIS SWEET FISH HEBI CAUGHT!!

Anyway, the Sword Beast convinces Hebi that Saru and Renji are like, the man with the exact vibes of a drug dealer in a 1980′s anti-drug PSA trying to offer a kid some goofballs. “Don’t you want to be your own man?” he intones, a phrase which Hebi goes on to echo approximately 50 times throughout this episode.

I honestly need to emphasize that Saru and Renji are not the least bit oppressive to Hebi. Snakeboy literally lets the villain get away twice in 5 minutes, and Saru is like, “I gotta put you back on the leash” and the Renji tells her to let him go after he runs away.

Now that he is his own man, the first thing Hebi wants to do is the same thing every shinigami wants to do once let loose in the World of the Living, i.e., eat a bunch of kombini riceballs.

I guess this is supposed to be funny, they’re playing wacky music an’ all, but my mind went immediately to the fact that Renji spent his childhood in food insecurity.

GAAAAAH, I CAN’T STOP MAKING THIS EPISODE INTO A METAPHOR. RENJI HAS SPENT HIS ENTIRE LIFE FORCING HIMSELF INTO AN EARLY ADULTHOOD, PRIORITIZING TRAINING AND LIVING UP TO THE EXPECTATIONS OF A CLASS HE ASPIRES TO THAT GIVES HIM NOTHING IN RETURN. THE HALF OF HIS ZANPAKUTOU REPRESENTING MARTIAL STRENGTH, FEROCITY, AND DISCIPLINE IS AN ADULT AND THE HALF REPRESENTING SELF-FULFILLMENT, JOY, AND WONDER IS A CHILD KEPT UNDER LOCK AND CHAIN.

Ahem. I’m fine. I’m good.

Hebi gets rice-ball-blocked by Ichigo’s sisters, chases some pigeons, tries to score some raw meat, and lovingly watches some people eat ice cream, before meeting up with Karin and Yuzu again. Karin realizes that he must be some sort of spirit, since Yuzu can’t see him (she notes that he “dressses funny” but somehow never registers the tail) Anyway, she gives him a rice-ball and he follows her home after Yuzu offers to feed him.

It’s time for a moodily lit interlude with Renji and Saru! Renji is completely chill about half his zanpakutou wandering around the Living World, wrecking things, and asks Saru if she’s worried about him. She admits that she’s more concerned about the idea of him acting like a Sword Beast, and Renji replies “Not very honest with your feelings, eh?” What does this mean???

LOOK, CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SORT OF DEEP SHIT THE GOTEI WOULD BE IN IF RENJI STOPPED BEING NICE AND DECIDED TO GO APESHIT? BECAUSE YOU KNOW ALL OF THE OTHER RUKONGAI VICE-CAPTAINS WOULD BE WITH HIM?? BYAKUYA WOULD HAVE TO GO PICK UP HIS OWN BURRITO AT CHIPOTLE!! HE WOULD DIE!!! WHAT WOULD IT LOOK LIKE IF WE ALL THREW OFF THE CHAINS OF CAPITALISM??

Anyway, Ichigo wanders up and is like, “hey man, you’re missing half your zanpakutou” and Renji’s like “no big I’m sure he’ll show up” and Ichigo’s like “maybe you should get on that.”

Back to the Kurosaki Clinic! Karin tells Hebi he should hide if Ichigo or Isshin come home, and Hebi is like “Oh, you live with other people, that’s so lame, I’m my own man” and Karin is like “You can’t even feed yourself, you moron, emotional bonds are cool, get over yourself.” It is an absolutely brutal takedown, and it works immediately. NGL, I found it immensely satisfying.

Oh good, it’s time for an uncomfortable metaphor about Renji and Saru being Hebi’s parents!! Thanks, I hate it!! IS THIS A METAPHOR ABOUT SELF-CARE? DOES RENJI INTENTIONALLY PROVIDE THE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FOR HIMSELF THAT HE NEVER RECEIVED AS A CHILD?? THIS IS VERY HEALTHY TBH, MAYBE RENJI HAS ACTUALLY BEEN TO THERAPY???

Yuzu gives Hebi Ichigo’s flan. They try to play Nintendo and board games, which proves to be an abject failure, and then end up watching some weird stand-up on tv, which Hebi finds fascinating. Everyone falls asleep by the time Ichigo gets home, so much for hiding from Ichi-nii.

Time out to talk about the fact that someone in this scene should recognize each other. Ichigo’s sisters have met Renji at least twice in non-canon (Sealed Soul Frenzy and the Bount Arc) and it’s highly possible they met him off-panel sometime during the Advance Team Arc. Even if Karin thinks Hebi is referring to some other Renji, it is inconceivable to me that Hebi doesn’t know who Ichigo is. This entire arc seems to presume that the zanpakutou have absolutely no awareness of what goes on outside of a shinigami’s inner world, but we’ve seen Zangetsu manifest and talk to Ichigo, like during his fight with Zaraki. Ichigo and Renji trained for bankai together. Zabimaru was THERE . It’s just extremely stupid to me thta Hebi wouldn’t recognize him when he shows up a little later on.

Back to the episode. Ichigo flicks Hebi in the forehead and asks “What are you doing in my house?” Ichigo tells Hebi that he’s a substitute soul reaper and Hebi feels betrayed and runs away. He immediately runs into the Sword Beast who is like “How do you like being your own man?” and Hebi is like, “it sucks actually, a cute girl I just met taught me that” and they fight. Karin shows up, gets knocked out, it’s looking pretty bad, when Renji shows up to save him and shoot him an Extremely Dad Look that is just dripping with “I’m sorry you lost the soccer game today but you did your best! Let’s stop for McDonalds on the way home!”

Anyway, Saru then heavily implies that they let Hebi wander around like this because they figured the Sword Beast would try to find him again. Wow. WOW. I also want to emphasize that Hebi fought that Sword Beast for a long time and got knocked around pretty hard, wtf were you doing, Renji and Saru?? And also Ichigo, who chased him directly out of the house and then took forever to catch up??

Anyway, Hebi doesn’t seem to care, he’s just happy to be back with his parents master and other half.

Karin wakes up later and is like “Where’s Zabimaru?” and Ichigo’s all like “I definitely do not know anyone by that name” and I wish filler arcs had any continuity at all, because I would love to see this come back to bite them later.

Renji and Zabimaru stand in the sky and stare wistfully at Ichigo’s house for a while (not weird at all, why do you ask??) and Hebi’s like, “yeah, it never would have worked out”, and Renji and Saru respectfully pretend like he had some kind of chance with Karin in the first place and then they all go back to Soul Society, to much more somber music than the wokka chi-wow-wows they entered on.

This episode could have been so much better, but it also could have been so much worse, so I will just take what I can get.

It also had the extremely precious omake where Renji and Zabimaru are Good Pals! ::sob:: why couldn’t the whole episode have just been THIS???

#sword beasts arc #bleach filler #look renji is remarkably well-adjusted for the shit he has been thru #i feel like he could be the Taking Care of Your Mental Health role model we need #has fifty timers on his phone so he remembers to hydrate and take his ritalin #bullet journals with momo #texts his friends just to tell them he loves them #these tags got a little outta control #i am not recapping all of these #just the good ones #by which i mean the ones i like #none of them are 'good'#i will make a master post eventually i promise

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