š±šŖšŖ·āØ joan mourning. self-indulgent (sfw) blog. s!her. 1 Corinthians 13. wasian (š°š·). college student.
š£æ i just write about characters iām madly in love with or deeply attached to.
š£æ please call me joan!
š£æ the only rule i have for my blog(s) is: do not instigate hate or rude interactions. thank you.
š£æ i have a side blog for the purpose of recommendations/reblogging: @whimsicalweeping
š£æ i have a side blog that is specifically for my inbox & posts unrelated to my stories: @lyrafaemour
š£æ i have a side blog that is specifically for graphics reblogging, my moodboards, and my independent writings: @ithorasucelor
š£æ proudly part of the AofukurÅneko Gang: @not-brokuto (Robokuto)
ša long time ago in a galaxy far, far away; in the time of middle earth; traveling the land of teyvatā¦
CONTENT: SFW (no NSFW). Suggestive/Fade-to-Black. Fluff. Angst. Alternate Universe. Original Characters. Original Writing. x(Female!)Reader. Hurt/[No] Comfort. Platonic and/or Romantic relations to canon characters. Other (specified in posts).
firstly, i would like to apologize for disappearing. of course, i know i do not have many followers. but i know i had some works that people did enjoy reading which made me grateful and appreciative!
iām a college student so things got busy on top of a few other personal events. so i went on an unplanned hiatus. anyways, now that the semester is finished for me, i have returned!
i have several ideas that i have been keeping note of and plan to write and share. on top of that, i am editing previous works to repost now that i have a feel for the kind of writing style(s) people enjoy on tumblrāoriginally, i had more of a format you would see in books but it felt odd seeing on hereāitās a style i use comfortably on wattpad tho which is where i have OC content planned! whatās more, i have also been thinking about opening requests but that is something i am still unsure about since i do have a backlog of ideas right now. but, as i continue to post, if you guys enjoy my writing style and have ideas youād like to see come to fruition, i would love the feedback so i can come to a conclusion about opening up requests! iād be honored to write for you all.
again, i want to apologize for disappearing. i know itās not a big deal at the end of the day. but, it was to me especially since i made so many wonderful friends on here as soon as i got on the app. itās sat with me till the end of the semester. i also have some other tumblr sideblogs; those are under construction but will be up soon since iād like to do more than just write on here!
i hope everyoneās been well! a new season is starting of warm sunshine and waiting experiences. i even saw a double-rainbow just yesterday! i think itās a sign of good things to come, so chin up and smile bright!
see you soon! and, belatedly, may the fourth be with you!
HELLO!
i apologize for lying about my hiatus length. i am back for real now as i was on vacation. i plan to make a taglist soon, and i am also getting more active on wattpad as well with OCxcanon if thatās interesting at all. but i expect most are here for canonxreader which i am also excited to write for once more!
if anyone has any advice on how to go about making a taglist, iād love to hear it! i have seen forms, people just commenting, etc. my lazy bum just wants to tag everyone for everything but i know not everything i write aligns with everyoneās interests! so please let me know as i work on that.
i have a few other sideblogs, but the one iāll promote right now is @lyrafaemour since thatās my inbox/inquiries blog! and i have sura and kat to thank for a gobsmacking amount of tag games (love you guys).
if you would like to be added to my mutuals list, please let me know as well as what hex color youād like your name to be! thank you! iām also very grateful towards all the new friends iāve made recently; itās motivated me to come back even more. itās lovely to see such a wonderful community on here!
WHAT IS IT This page you will find ideas that I have come up with but have no desire to write. I am opening these ideas to be given away and written by others.
RULES:
1. If you find an idea youād like to write, please send an inquiry (ask) to my inbox ( @lyrafaemour )! I cannot promise I will give the idea to you, but I will consider it.
2. I do not give ideas away to NSFW blogs. I am an SFW blog, and I would like to read the ideas that I am giving away. So, please do not ask if your ideas include putting NSFW into the plot I am sharing. Thank you.
3. You do not have to be following me! As long as we communicate, and I tell you all the ideas/notes I had for the ideaāthat is good enough for me. You do not have to utilize every single suggestion I come up with. As long as it is the basic plot, once I give the idea away, it is yours.
4. Please do not switch characters for the plot. For example, if I come up with an idea about Katsuki BakugÅ being a bookshop employee and you try to change it to Suguru GetÅ, that is an automatic invalidation of ownership.
5. Credit me, please! This allows me for easy access to your post of the story as well as letting me add it to a page where I can present these stories to other viewers!
ą¼ąæ . TO BE SOLD
įƽ The Disney Rip-off! (Fantasy AU; alternate universe series; different readers for each character): Inspired by the silly memes of shipping JJK characters with Disney characters, this is a series in which the readers fulfill roles/archetypes similar to Disney characters. From a Kitsune Suguru GetÅ to a Vampire Choso KamÅ, our lovable JJK characters take on fantasy roles that intertwine stories. And, all roads lead back to the fearsome Demon King, RyÅmen Sukuna, who threatens to wage war against the nations.
įƽ The Office (The Office!AU, Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader, alternate universe series, Reader has a Pam Beesly-like roleāiām still deciding who should fill the Jim Halpert roleāmaybe Suguru, crackfic, alternate universe series, Satoru is Michael Scott, suggestiveness, inspired by the CEOxY/N trend too):You are merely a secretary with artistic dreams working at a drab paper company on the outskirts of Tokyo, Japan. Things arenāt so bad. Some of your co-workers are pleasant. Youād like to say you have a best friend at work, or just in general. Itās simple work; itās a simple life. Or, it could have been if Satoru GojÅ wasnāt the Regional Manager of the branch. Everyday is a new shenanigan that flips the office upside-down, violating company rules like theyāre pretzel sticks, and trying to survive the day just to hopefully forget it. You think you may have brainwashed yourself though because now you leave the office each day thinking: āIt could have been worse.ā
summary: When you and Katsuki BakugÅ end up in an unexpected fight, you find yourself in a state of self-loathing for days. Before you can make the first move to apologizeālike you usually do in situations like thisāBakugÅ does it first. And what had just been mutual respect for each other for almost the past three years turns into a deeper understanding of all the things you two donāt say. Despite being seemingly polar opposites, the two of you may just be on the same side of the coin.
authorās note: the way i have yet to watch season 8ā¦iām such a fake fan bc i also have all the MHA volumes and yet i also have not read most of thoseā¦we donāt talk about thatāi just need to time to binge-read. anyways, i lowkey am not happy with how i ended this so i might write a part 2! it all depends. i originally planned to have way more dialogue but this ended up being a bit long (you guys should see me with my wattpad fics) for a one-shot, i think. no, these two donāt exactly have a real conversation about what happened but if i did a pt. 2, i think itād be cool to explore bakugÅās character. i wonāt say this is an inherently romantic dynamic either, but itās hinted at the end lol. this was based off an experience i had a while back so i apologize if reader isnāt to your taste!
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mild cussing, low mental health, portrayals of PTSD (reader ignores her trauma), mention of therapy (and not doing it), use of the word āsuicidalā (reader is not), BakugÅ being BakugÅ, they are third-years, BakugÅ & Reader are bad with words ā THIS DOESNāT EXPLICITLY TALK ABOUT THE WAR BUT IT REVOLVES AROUND THE EVENTS OF IT SO IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE SEASON 7/8 OR READ THE LAST OF THE MANGA, AND DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED, PLEASE DONāT READ!
Youāre not even friends with Katsuki BakugÅ. Well, perhaps you are in some capacity; youād like to think that everyone in Class 3-A are friends with each otherāmaybe even family in some way after everything you all had been through together. But, that was far from the point, and frankly, you werenāt even sure it mattered because you were starting to think that nothing could have prevented you from getting into an argument with BakugÅ.
You found it incredibly odd since you were someone who went out of their way to avoid conflict. Not just for the sake of keeping the peace but because it instilled a sort of fear in you to a certain degree; conflict was a plate of anxiety waiting to happen, making your stomach churn like you were sick off of two-week old food. And, maybe you may or may not have sat and stared at the wall for an hour, completely spaced with no real thoughts in your head; being stuck in the suspense of it not being resolvedāwanting so badly for apologies to be said so both parties could move onāwas putting you in a malfunction.
It gets worse.
No one really knew you could hold grudges. You were good at being polite, the kind of person who could kill with kindness. You were good at making the fire under your skin feel like ice on the outside, cooling off everyone else while you were a contained explosion waiting to happen. No one really knew that you could be equally as stubborn as BakugÅ when you wanted to be. You had spent three years curating an image of sincerity and openness, and overall, just someone easy to be around because you were good at adapting to get along with other people.
Apparently that skill set did not work with BakugÅ. Maybe it never did. And, maybe you were more like him than you thought, but thatās not something you would ever admit. Yeah, maybe he was an explosion learning to tame himself. Yeah, maybe you were a pressure cooker waiting to break. But, by the light of that first quirk user in Qing Qing city, you had to be a calm person.
You had to be the mediator.
You werenāt much of anything else.
Which is why it became such a shock to the entirety of Class 3-A when they watched you scream your lungs out at BakugÅ during training. And well, you just had to put on a show now, didnāt you? No one had ever seen you so feral in familiar settingsāin battle, sureābut against a classmate? Even if it was BakugÅ. Everyone knew he would fight tooth-and-nail to win, and thatās exactly what he did. He wasnāt at all taken aback from watching the unproblematic, quietly helpful student of the class go absolutely ballistic and lunge at him first. All he did was attack right back.
Mr. Aizawa never had to restrain you before; it never crossed his mind that he would have to one day. You didnāt think that would have ever happened either; it left a shame that burned in your chest, sinking down into the pit of your stomach where it met disappointment directed at none other than yourself. And now, you were rotting from the inside-out, stuck with a week-long suspension and after-school duties equivalent to sitting in the time-out corner of elementary school where everyone could only stare at you.
You had heard someone say it was out-of-character for you as Mr. Aizawa dragged you and BakugÅ from the training grounds. Your initial instinct was to agree because thatās what you would have said had you been a spectator to yourself too. But, deep down, you knew the worst of you.
And, that is how you found yourself sitting on a bench on U.A. campus grounds after spending uncountable hours helping to clean the restrooms. It had been three days since the fight. It had been three days since you or BakugÅ exchanged words, not that you did everyday in the first place. Yet, the notion still stung. It had been three days since you thought you completely wrecked the image all your friends had of you. But, it had been less than twenty-four hours since you cried.
Here you were, doing it again.
Your glasses had been pushed up to the top of your head, your backpackādecorated in pins and keychainsāperched against the armrest. You were hunched over; elbows pressing into the tops of your knees; head had dropped into your hands, the heels of your palms pressed into shut eyelids where tears still squeezed out anyways. There was a heat crawling all over in a way that had nothing to do with the Sun, burning shame radiating off of you. Your shoulders were tense, but that didnāt stop the shaking that jerked in your body with every sob. Biting down on your chapped, bottom lip didnāt stop the wounded noises from escaping either; it was an invisible force building up behind your teeth that backed up to the sourceāthe ache in your chestābefore ripping out of you.
You didnāt know why you were crying. You knew exactly why you were crying. You told yourself you had no right to cry. You had plenty of reasons to cry. Regardless, you hated that you were crying over this at all, that you had been for days. You hated that your anger turned wet instead of dry, like ShinsÅās, or even volatile like BakugÅās.
You didnāt hear the footsteps down the path. You didnāt hear someone take a seat on the bench, in the space beside you. You didnāt hear the thud of another backpack. You didnāt hear the sharp exhale that seemed guttural yet strained at the same time. You barely even registered someone saying your name, like it had been an echo you conjured up in your own mindāthe kind the brain made up when you were alone just to scare you.
But then you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder, too hot for typical body temperature. Before you could even react properly, it yanked. You jerked with a gasp, hands sliding off your face and eyes flooding up. Your glassy eyes met the exact face of the person you didnāt want to see, wearing his signature expression of hostility. A shuddered inhale was your first response at seeing BakugÅ, followed by a sniffle; more tears trickled down your face and when you felt one tickle over your skin just so, and thatās when you snapped out of your daze of self-loathing.
Your cheeks and nose were flushed bright pink from crying too hard. Your overall face was a mess of tears and snot, a clear sheen over your skin that you promptly started wiping away at with the sleeves of your gray, uniform blazer. You heard BakugÅ click his tongue with that tch noise, and what was just typical background noise before had become like a gavel of judgment. Your stomach tensed, head dropping back down as you wiped at your face.
āWhat do you need?ā It could have sounded sharp; it could have sounded polite. But, it just sounded broken, stuttered out more than you would have liked for it to be. There was a pinch inside you at how pathetic you soundedāvoice hoarse and thick with the ache that had clawed up your throat.
āWhy the hell are you crying?ā BakugÅ spat out.
His tone was as prickly as always, sharp like a clean blade through paper. His bag leaned against the opposite armrest, uniform rumpledāred tie loosened with a few buttons popped open at the top of his white-collared shirt. The yellow button of the gray blazer was undone, giving him room to breathe easy as he sat with open legs and a hunch that was more deliberate than your saddened state. His hand still rested on your shoulder, grip tightening as he yanked at you again.
It pissed him off that you werenāt looking at him for a reason he couldnāt explain. It made something unnamable in his gut twist as he saw your teary, snotty face. All week he had been plagued and wouldnāt admit it because not even he knew why. All he knew was that seeing how you completely lost it a few days ago in the training simulation was oddly satisfying in a way he hadnāt even realized he had wanted from you. Because, why would BakugÅ want anything from you? You two werenāt anything but classmates to each other, maybe friendly to a certain degreeāwell, as friendly as he could get.
And yet, even as he acted the same as he always didāderanged, hostile, and pridefulāit was driving him up the wall seeing how you had been acting since then. The aftermath was wholly disappointing; he had been expecting you to finally show that backbone he always knew you had. Instead, you seemed to fold into yourself more, not to be accommodating to others like you always were but it was as if you were trying to cut yourself off completely from the world. You were being a contortionist for emotions, and he hated it. And yet, he didnāt hate it enough to hate you.
It had finally dawned on him randomly while he was doing his own punishment for today which was helping Ectoplasm grade first-year math assignments. He had hated it for you. He hated watching someone, with a quirk as powerful as yours and a battle prowess that showed your capabilities as a leader, have complete disregard for herself otherwise. And, the reason he hated it so much was because he started watching it bleed into your tactical abilities and choices when fighting.
It was almost laughable that it took nearly years to figure out why you were so off-putting to him.
You didnāt know that BakugÅ had good reason for starting all this, even if he didnāt mean to.
āSeriously?ā You retorted, breaking his thoughts. Your voice sounded like you swallowed gravel, sniffling once more. The longer BakugÅās presence lingered, the more your stomach churned; memories of how you attacked him in a fit of rage came back to you. You couldnāt even remember what he had said that made you lose it; you donāt even remember what you said in return. Your lips pressed together in a thin line, eyes threatened with a new wave of tears. āJust leave me alone. I donāt know what you wanted from me, but you won, okay? Youāre right. Whatever it is, I donāt want to fight anymoreāā
āShut the hell up.ā
Your mouth clamped shut.
BakugÅ stared at your side profile, a scrunched expression on his face that you couldnāt see, twisting the scar on his right side. His red eyes burned into your skin, like he was trying to see into your soul or maybe he was just judging you. It was hard to tell with him. Jaw clenching, his body tensed without him realizing. A stifled groan left him, making him sound exasperated more than anything, āItās annoying when you do that.ā
Now, you were baffled. You blinked a few times, vision blurry. Staring at the pavement, a quiet fell into the air as you tried to process the meaning his words. āWhat? Whatās annoying? I donāt understand.ā
āThat thing you do,ā he spat out. His hand slid from your shoulder to the nape of your neck. His hold was like iron, making you flinch before he applied a kind of pressure that wasnāt forceful. It was a silent demand you look at him.
You didnāt. Instinct made you want to though, in the same way people always turned their heads when he drew attention with commanding for it. His presence was just loud in that way. He didnāt try to make you look at him again, instead his teeth ground like it was hurting to say these next words, āThe thing where you act like you donāt want problems. You act like a doormat then beat the crap out of the simulated villains or our classmates during training. It makes me want to kill you. Like right nowāyou should have yelled at me like you did the other day when I told you to shut up.ā
Okay, now you were really confused. Your lips parted slightly in a metaphorical jaw drop. The tears stopped. The sobs stopped. You finally lifted your head to look at BakugÅ like a fish out of water, completely unwound by his words. You were met with the sight of dark crimson irises, eyes flicking to the scar on his face before meeting his eyes again. Your chest rose and fell in heaves, arms sliding up your thighs as you straightened up to face him. You sniffled again, nose red and eyes still shiny with tears that would never be shed.
āWhatā¦What do you mean?ā You croaked out, not meekly; you almost sounded annoyed. Because BakugÅ didnāt know you; you two were classmates, maybe even friendly in some capacity due to proximity by class but he wasnāt someone you went to when you wanted to share something with someone. And, you werenāt someone he went to either; sometimes you passively pondered if he actually liked you as a person or not. Maybe thatās why he had you pissed you off so the other day because he had no right. Your hand reached back behind you to grab at his wrist, pulling with a force to rip his grip off of you. āWhat did I even do to you, BakugÅ? Iām not a doormat. What are you talking about? Youāre the one whoās been saying all sorts of things to me that I donāt appreciate. And, you donāt even have the decency to leave me alone.ā
āLike hell you arenāt,ā BakugÅ bit back out, more like a growl than words, āYou roll over when everyone wants you to, like a dog. But, Iāve seen you bark and bite. Stop acting like you canāt.ā
His hand only tightened on the back of your neck more, a prick of irritation seeping through your haze of melancholy and confusion. His other hand reached to grab your wrist instead, and you hoped someone would pass by to distract his attention so you could leave without issue. Adrenaline kicked in, and you started to lightly thrash, sputtering out frustrated protests for him to let you go. But, all he did was drag you both closer together. You stiffened when your faces nearly collided, jerking back put to a pause. His hold slackened on you, turning into a sort of cradling as his face looked down at yours with merely inches between.
āDo you even remember what I said the other day?ā
Strangely, he sounded jarringly quieterānot softerāstill gruff but less venomous. When it came to BakugÅ, it was hard not to feel pinned under his gaze, like a predator. Youād seen those red eyes in the dark; Denki had once wet his pants when he and BakugÅ had a solo sparring session in one of the nighttime training sessions. Swallowing thickly, your brain filed through its archives like a librarian, tracing back everything that had happened to the point in which it began. You had been so wrapped up in your collision of emotions lately that you forgot what he had said to even make you show the wrath you kept locked up tight. Your brain surged with remembrance the longer you stared at each other, of what he had said that day right after your partnered training simulation had ended.
Suddenly, a new bout of fury replaced your mixed emotions. You yanked back against him, one leg coming up on the bench seat as if your knee was trying to create distance. A scowl crossed your face, tone suddenly stony, āYeah, you called me suicidal! And then, you called me dumb. You literally told me off in front of the entire class and Mr. Aizawa just because you didnāt agree with some of the decisions I made during our training. Which, I still donāt get. I never said you had to accept some of my choicesāI donāt agree with the things you do half of the time. But, you literally insulted my fighting style Iāve been doing for the past couple years. And, for the love ofāwould you please let me gāā
His hand dropped from your wrist to cover your mouth, your rambling ceasing at his gesture as your hands shot out to fist at his uniform, itching to violently shake him off of you. Your chapped, parted lips twitched under his clammy palm, a huff of air pressing against his skin. As your nose wrinkled under his hand, you jerked back yet he pressed on anyways. An eye-roll followed in sequence as he tilted his head up once like he was preventing a signature crash-out before looking back down at you. He exhaled sharply, āI meant every word I said the other dayāā
Your eyebrows knitted deeper in their arches, as you tried to shove him away again. One of your hands grabbed at his red tie, yanking him in some aimless direction. Your other hand attempted to jerk him back-and-forth with a miniscule amount of light gray fabric in your hold. He didnāt even try to stop you which was odd because in a regular occurrence he would have never let this sort of behavior slide against him. Yet, all he did was merely scoff, readjusting his hold in tandem. āShut up. StopāStop moving! Listenāever since the war, you changed!ā
You froze immediately.
Your eyes widened.
That was the last thing you expected to be relevant to a minor training simulation, or the fight.
A gut feeling sank in you regardless because somehow you already knew where this was going. And, if he knew what you had been trying so desperately to not think about then maybe you werenāt as private as you tried to protect yourself to be. Unlike the others, you had only went to therapy for so long when you realized you couldnāt put anything into words that felt accurate to the feelings in your chest that seemed to lacerate your psyche for so long. You had spent all this time listening to others as they sought your comfort because, somehow, they said it better than you thought you ever could. In return, you never shared back. You swallowed the trauma. You swallowed the anxiety. You swallowed your own voiceāyour real truth. But, maybe it permeated out of you anyways, leaking out of your skin. The notion filled you with a sort of trepidation that made you feel inexplicably small.
When he realized he had your attention, he continued, āMr. Aizawaās talked to you before about it, hasnāt he? Dekuās said stuff too. You know how he is with his stupid notebooks. But, heās right. You used to be defense. You focused on civilian safety first without thinking about it, but Iāve heard Momo and KÅda remind you more times these past two years than I had our first year at U.A. You jump head-first into situations. You stopped asking for help. You move faster than you used to and not because your staminaās built up. You move before you think, and the only reason youāre still alive is because muscle memory is doing it. Youāre smart enough to do it at just the fine line where Mr. Aizawa canāt take marks off because you meet the standards. You think people didnāt notice that as soon as the war ended you switched from a defensive style to offensive? As soon as we graduate, youāre going to let yourself get killed. I donāt get why the hell youāre so merciless on the battlefield now and donāt do the same in every other part of your life.ā
It was claustrophobic. His words built faulty walls around you, creating a dilapidated building that you were trapped in, leaving you to just wait for the rubble to crush you. It didnāt help that his hands were on your mouth and skin. He was overwhelmingly warm; too close; saying all the things that you knew deep down, and chose not to reflect on. Since the war ended, you kept moving and stopped thinking. Overthinking had cost you during the war. Your anxiety had taken from you during battle. You stopped letting yourself look too deeply into yourself anymore because you were too afraid of the damage youād see.
You vowed to never let yourself lose against you again.
It wasnāt just the League of Villains or All for One or the Paranormal Liberation Army that had wounded you. But, that was a conversation you werenāt ready for. It was a conversation you werenāt ready to have, and you didnāt think you ever would be. You lied to yourself; you let yourself falsely believe that you had found that balance between self-protection and attack. You ignored acknowledging the notion that you had turned into what BakugÅ had once was: a hurdling supernova ready to destroy first before your own thoughts became a distracting enemy to the real threat. You didnāt realize just how obvious it was to everyone else. Nor did you realize that you had started to shake again.
Your breathing stuttered in your chest, a cold feeling washing through you. You werenāt sure if you were crying again or just breaking out into a cold sweat. Some part of you ached to scream at him for bringing up unwanted memories that you had tried to bury in a grave without a name for nearly three years. But, BakugÅ didnāt need to keep a hand over your mouth anymore because your own words caught in your throat, building a lump that you couldnāt swallow back downāa corpse coming back to life out of that nameless grave. Finally, his hand slipped off your lips and for a long moment, he just stared at you. All you could do was stare back.
It was hard to tell when he constantly looked like he was ready to use his quirk, but his expression softened slightly, more pensive than scolding. His hand on the nape of your neck smoothed up your skin till his fingers gently entangled in your hair, bringing your face into the crook of his neck. His other hand grabbed at your knee to push it back over the bench ledge, scooting closer to you till your thighs touched. The heat that emanated off of him wrapped around your presence, and he still smelled vaguely like whatever hair products he used in his wash that morning.
You werenāt sure if you were ticked off that you actually felt comforted when he made you rage a few days ago, or if you were relieved to finally be seen by someone without having to say anything.
Your hands clasped together in your lap again, nails digging into your skin. You felt him fix at the glasses on top of your head, making sure his jaw didnāt knock it off before tilting his head slightly against yours. It was so uncharacteristic for him that it made your head spin on top of the fact that he explained you when you hadnāt even given yourself the chance; it made you topple off the axis of your own world. Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself not to lose it to emotion again, be it rage or tears, unlike the whirlwind of your being for the past few days. His words echoed in your head like a gong was pressed against your ears, making you want to flip the switch off in your brain.
Thatās all you wanted to do: turn off your brain. Even just for a little bit. Just to stop feeling for but a moment.
Because he was right and you hated it. He was right that you had been losing yourself ever since the war. And, everyday you woke up feeling better and ended the day feeling worse. Sometimes you werenāt sure if the war had made you want to be a pro-hero even more or if it had drained the fight out of you before you were even given a chance. Even in sleep, your body felt like it was in survival mode; nightmares morphing memories together into a horror fest of tragedy that made you feel like you were on the brink of insanity even unconscious. You used to wake up screaming after the war endedāfamily rushing in to flip the lights on, cuddle you back to rest, and remind you that you werenāt surviving anymore. You werenāt screaming anymore, but sleeping still didnāt feel sleeping; it just felt being trapped in the past.
You were allowed to live again, so why couldnāt you? Ā
But talking about it in broad daylightātrying to answer that questionāhaving spent hours cleaning toilets just felt wrong. You had already sobbed yourself out of energy, tears conveying everything you didnāt say and he caught you. He was right three days ago. He was right again now. And, everything in you was just too exhausted to even speak a word of what was wrong with you since the war ended. Especiallyāespeciallyābecause out of everyone: BakugÅ and Midoriya were the ones whose lives almost didnāt have a chance at making it back the most.
In fact, BakugÅ didnāt.
The reminder made your stomach roll. And, you suddenly felt like a child, regret climbing up your spine at how you attacked at him a few days ago when all he did was call you out; it was clear everyone else had seen the truth you were trying to hide like it was just a revolving, glass door. He had worked on bettering himself. Everyone saw the progress: he was a prodigy just as he had proclaimed himself to be in the beginning, even if he wasnāt perfect. You just felt like you were falling into a pitiful state of constantly reaching for the ledge and never quite grasping at it. The idea that BakugÅ could see in you more than he already had gave a phantom twitch in your legs, like you wanted you run as far away from him as possible. You wondered if being seen should feel this scary.
Though, instead of running away, you wrapped your arms around him. You pressed closer into him, trying to restrain the death-grip you wanted to give in to. You had finally grabbed the ledge.
You just needed someone to help pull you up.
BakugÅ didnāt move at first; he didnāt quite sit still either. He just sat, one hand in your hair, staring off onto the distance, as he let you hold onto himāsomething he rarely let people do (more like never). His right arm was limp in his lap, a litter of scars and trauma unseen, beneath his uniform. You didnāt cry. You didnāt lose your cool. You just kept a loose grip around him, damp face pressed into his skin. Both of your breathing rhythms started to sync. And, all that came out of your mouth was a muffled, āI donāt want to talk about it right now. Alsoā¦Iām sorry.ā
āI know,ā he replied, almost immediately, āMe too.ā
Maybe the fact that he seemed to know you better than you realized would drive you crazy later, given how far apart you two seemed in every other way. But, today you let it be, and so did he. Today, you were the grumpy one and he was the one who comforted. Today would just be. Whatever tension that had snapped between you both in the training simulation the other day seemed to melt into an understanding that didnāt require words, neither of which you were great at. The idea that you two had more in common than either of you were willing to admit was something that you, coincidentally, both brushed off.
You may not be ready to talk about you yet.
One day you would be.
One day you might learn that the reason why BakugÅ seemed to be the only one who could drive you to lose your temper was because you were exactly like him. One day he might learn it too. It was ironic how you seemed to be someone who could see into everyone else except yourself. You always knew how to bring Midoriya down from his own anxiety. You knew how to explain pop culture references that were still foreign to Todoroki. You could match Minaās energy level when she wanted to have impromptu hangouts and sleepovers.
But, you had lost the insight to know yourself, and perhaps you had just needed to find it again. Regardless, BakugÅ planned to remind you that he saw through every boundary you tried to hide behind for the rest of your life, unable to describe the feelings that he loathed whenever anything had to do with you. And, the day you came to recognize that the same boundaries you held were the same ones he once had might just be the day you finally let someone in to your private world.
do you guys want a part 2 to this? iām debating bc i do have ideas where they have an actual convo/start to enter into a relationship. but, i feel like this could also be fine as it is, so iām just not too sure (+ i have other bakugÅ ideas)āiām willing to add it to my plate of things to write but idk if itās worth itā¦idk what do the masses say?
Part-time Lover, Full-time Friend (Satoru GojÅ, angst, hurt/comfort-ish?, unlabeled dynamic, lots of emotions, talks about depression): Neither you nor Satoru ask for moreānot because you donāt want it, but because you canāt want it. As the line between friends begins to blurānot quite physically, but emotionally. And, thatās all youāll ever be, all you two can afford. The price to be paid is evident; Satoru canāt commit because he has to be āThe Strongest,ā endangering you more than being a sorcerer already did. And, you love Satoruānot the spotlightāyou didnāt want the attention that would befall you if you attempted to become Mrs. GojÅ. And, certainly not when youāre slowly starting to turn into another Suguru GetÅ. As two people who have been by each otherās side since high school find solace in each other, they keep the other from spiraling into an insanity of cynicism. And, they give themselves to each other in every way except one: letting others know they belong to each other. Because, at the end of the day, you donāt.
Grocery Runs (Katsuki BakugÅ, slight angst, hurt/comfort-ish?, crackfic): In which youāa quirkless civilianāencounters Katsuki BakugÅ at the grocery by random chance one day. Aftee informing him that he had blood on his face, he stalks off to the bathroom to clean himself up. Unable to contain your concern, you linger in a nearby aisle trying not to seem obvious, wanting to make sure heās fine. However, you look away as soon as he comes out and he notices. Since then, you seem to be at the grocery store at the same time as him every Friday night. BakugÅ notices too, and thinks youāre stalking him especially when you come wearing a merch sweatshirt of his hero uniform; when he confronts you without thinking, you burst into tears and snap at him. Little does he know, he just ruined the image of himself in front of one of his biggest fans. Wondering if he made a mistake, he ends up doing exactly what he accused of: stalking. It was then he comes to realize it was a baseless accusation and when he stops seeing you every Friday, something feels wrong. So, what does he do? He shows up to your workplace. And, how does he know that? wellā¦thatās neither here-nor-thereānow heās here to apologize.
Being Alive Isnāt Enough (KentÅ Nanami x Reader, fix-it fic? AU. angst. hurt/comfort. reader is mrs. nanami): KentÅ Nanami survives Shibuya Station. He survives the Culling Games. He survives till the end. But in doing so, he loses more and more of himself, and he isnāt sure if thereās anything left to give anymore. Between struggling with both physical and psychological therapy, fumbling through baking, and debating whether Malaysia is still worth itāKentÅās starting to wonder if maybe he really did die back in the Shibuya Station. If not physically, then the version of himself he thinks is worth it. And, it all comes to a head when the stoic, quiet man finally lashes out at his breadwinning wife, something he vowed he would never do.
Match My Vibe (TÅru Oikawa x Reader, fluff, crackfic, slight hurt/comfort, Reader and Oikawa both have insecuritiesātheyāre oppsoites): TÅru runs on high-energy, praise, and adrenaline. As long as he keeps going, then he wonāt have to sit in the dark loneliness of his room; he wonāt have to sit with his thoughtsāthe insecurities that crawl under his skin and into his head. When he lands himself a girlfriend that seems leagues above his maturity level, he wonders if maybe heās too much of a brat. Youāre quieter, no less adventurous. But, you listen more than you talk, let other people take up space when you fold into yourself, withholding your own insecurities from the world until he pries them out of you. When you do speak? Somehow you always know exactly what to say to make breathing just a little easier. And, maybe he is a brat. But, at least heās your brat and you wouldnāt change a thing. Not even when the rest of the school canāt seem to comprehend that a nobody like you could be with a somebody like him. Little do they realize, the one who feels like a nobody is TÅru, and only you and volleyball have ever made him feel enough.
Jujutsu Kaisen College!AU: Currently, Iām just working on a bunch of headcanons for various characters. Please redirect to the Legendarium to find them!
The Introvertsā Feedback Loop / The Extrovertsā Dilemma (Tamaki Amajiki x Reader, fluff, very little angstājust two people with bad and undiagnosed anxiety): Nejire and Mirio are sick and tired of you and Tamaki; the minute one of you wants to burst into tears, so does the other. Itās been like this since the first year of U.A. when Mirio had the bright idea to adopt another introverted soul into the friend group. Little did anyone know, Tamaki would find more than just solidarity with you, he would find him in you and you in him. Seems like you both are much more oblivious than you come across. So when Tamaki is hit on for his first time ever, you do the normal thing and encourage him despite the ache in your chest that you have consistently ignored. Unknowingly, Tamakiās brain is put into overdrive when he realizes the only person heās ever wanted is you. Well, you and to stay home everyday (preferably with you at his homeā¦but weāre not quite there yet).
The Quintessential Callback of Being a Jerk (Katsuki BakugÅ x Reader, slight angst/hurt comfort, timeskip!characters, reader is a pro-hero): As you and your boyfriend are patrolling the same area one day, Katsuki BakugÅ and you witness a child with a quirk bullying a quirkless kid. Suddenly, heās thrust back into the past of his middle school, seeing his past self in the child. Yet even after the scoldings are given and the moment passes, Katsuki begins to ruminate gets whether heās truly changed or not. AndāwellāIzuku Midoriya may be in for a bit of a surprise on social media a few days later.
Chemistry & Tension: The Energy Between Binding Us (Wakatoshi Ushijima x Reader, fluff, readerās good at language arts and bad at science): You and Wakatoshi Ushijima exist in different realms while living in the same world. Sometimes your kingdoms brush each other; most of the times they donāt. You know of himāwho doesnāt? But, he exists as a faded mark on your map just as you donāt even exist on his radar at all. Youāre merely two strangers who attend the same school. Thatās normal. No need to think twice about it. Except, when you and him get partnered together for a chemistry project to record an experiment and write a fictional story on it, you two definitely notice each other then. And suddenly, Wakatoshi thinks the experiment harmed his heart. Oh, wait: maybe that ache in his chest isnāt a bad reaction. And, maybe that was just from you. Either way, every day that you two spend together is starting to send him into a chain reaction. Who knew Ushiwaka could be so awkward?
Domain Expansion: Empty Heart, Loud Head (Suguru GetÅ & Reader, angst, slight fluff, Suguru has depression, Teen!Suguruāright before he defects, implied bad ending, basically just being there for him): Youāve known Suguru GetÅ since you two started attending Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. Just like Satoru and Suguru are best friends, you and ShÅko are two peas in a pod. But, even then, you and Suguru seem to operate on a wavelength that only dreamers doālate nights stargazing, debating philosophy, agreeing to read the same books to talk about them. Youāve slept in each otherās dorm rooms, sometimes on a futon, sometimes in each otherās beds; sometimes you ended up in each otherās armsāon accident, of course. But, when the mission with Riko Amanai goes south, you feel like youāre the only one who realizes Suguru came back as a changed boy, for the worse. The more you dig, the more he slips. One night, he gives, and you finally find solid ground to stand on in him. But, it is then you realize that something else has taken root inside the cracks of him and youāre wondering if Suguru GetÅ came back at all.
Poets Turned Soldiers Survivors (Keiji Akaashi x Reader, The Hunger Games!AU, alternate universe series, angst, depictions of violence, Reader has a Katniss Everdeen-like role, TÅru Oikawa as Finnick Odair, made myself President Snow bc thereās no evil characters so i took one for the team): Life in District 12 is simple, lacking, and forgetful. But, at least you had your family; or, you did. When you and a familiar boy, Keiji Akaashi, are reaped for the Hunger Games, you find yourself in a tumultuous arena, both in and out of the games themselves. Youāve never really been one for performing or good with words, but Keiji is. Where he speaks, you shield; where you lead, he follows. When one attacks, the other does too. Neither of you can live without each other anymore. Apparently, the world canāt either. But, President Joan Mourning views you two otherwise, a threat in the world sheās perfected. And, all you can do is hope the odds may ever be in your favor one last time.
Youāre Out of This World, Girl! (TÅru Oikawa x Reader, Alien!Reader, anthology series?, fluff): In which youāre an alien from outer space and TÅru Oikawaās a mere human whoās always believed. When you crash-land onto unfamiliar Earth, wandering out of the Atlantic Forest in Brazil, you and TÅru happen upon each other. Absolutely ecstatic to see proof of his belief, you two become unexpected roommates as you learn about human culture and civilization.
The Mitski Plague (angst, hurt/[no] comfort, series of one-shots, HaikyÅ«!! x Readerāseparately, stories based on songs by Mitski): Different one-shots based on Mitski songs, and itās a toss-up of whether itās a happy ending or not. Regardless, be ready to cry for all the sad stuff in the middle.
