It’s hard to put into words what I’m feeling right now. I can step outside of myself, and see that this is just a band. These are real people that have their own lives that we don’t get to see. But they choose to share an important part of themselves with us, and it’s good that they are taking a break. It’s good that they are stepping away to work on themselves and figure out what it means to be their own people.
Without going into too much detail, my husband and I had to do that for ourselves once, and in the end, we are better for having done that. It’s the same with BTS, I think. This is a relationship that they were in for years, and they spent a huge chunk of their life together, as a group, and now they get the chance to figure out who they are as individuals. Its really a good an beautiful thing.
I don’t do well with change. Since March of 2020, I’ve been having to spend so much of my energy adapting to change and uncertainty, and I wore myself out. But it also lead to discovering things about myself that shifted my perspective on my past. BTS was something I didn’t expect to love as much as I did, but these men have become a huge part of my life, and so waking up this morning, not really understanding what was going on, until my friends caught me up, I’ve been feeling weird and off all day.
IDK It’s such a similar feeling to when the fandom I was part of a while ago sort of shifted. Some things stagnated, and others moved on. But it was there, and an important part of me. Being ARMY now, it's an important part of me, and I’ve met great people because of it. I’ll be here when BTS comes back. In the meantime, lets watch these men grow and support them. And lets work on ourselves too.
deku x reader - succession!au, uhhhhh............... deku has a thought abt parenthood. it's bad.
(warning - short, talk of pregnancy but no actual gender of reader mentioned, mild talk of stds, drugs, sleeping around.... etc.?)
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“I want a baby,“ your boss, Deku, the near-CEO of media conglomerate AllMightco, says randomly one day, halfway through your lunch break (that he demanded you spend with him), and in the middle of your well-earned silence after a long conversation about whether Bakugo needs antidepressants.
You can only gape at his words, close but not too close to where he’s seated at one of the little armchairs he has in his office for any business casual meetings that require somewhere cozy to sit in spite of any fighting words that may be spit (and for fucking, you’re rather quite aware).
“Maybe it’d be… good for me. I love kids and, I think, I think,” he continues, stuttering like he always does when he’s nervous, excited, high, his tone questioning despite his making of it a statement. “it would give me a break from work?”
All you can do is laugh at the question, dryly, in disbelief, unsure of whether he’s being serious or just sharing some secret, wistful dream. You decide to tell him the truth either way.
“You can’t have a baby just because you want time off.”
He ignores you, though.
“I have all this money, and what for…?” he waves his shaky hands, “I could have a family. I’d change diapers and buy toys and take them to the beach.”
(Though just last week, he was fighting the board for more funds, screaming in that raspy voice he always develops after working through the night that he’d give up any and all vacation time for the foreseeable future if it meant keeping Toshinori Yagi in a position, any position, at the company for the next five years.)
You throw your laptop aside and stand up from your wilted salad and grapefruit soda that’s now sweating on the coffee table to walk around the edges of his desk. You throw a leg over one sharp corner, the exposed part of your ankle brushing his knee as you address him directly.
“And who would be having this child, Deku?“ you ask. “An ex? A surrogate? Ocha—“
He gives you those eyes, slouching down into himself, reaching out to pull your butt of his table and grip the back of your thighs to pull you in between his legs. You can feel the length of his overgrown green curls brushing your fingertips as you put your hands on his stiff shoulders to keep yourself from falling right into him.
“Me? Izuku,” you clarify, (though you always call him Deku), “me? What do you think? I’m just gonna say yes, no warning, no nothing? We’re not even dating, sweetie.”
—and just last week Kirishima offered to drive you to the clinic with him to tested, though you’re not going to bring that up now, even if you know Deku already knows you’re sleeping around. He is too.
He closes his eyes, resting the back of his head against the heavy, red leather of his office chair. The stubble on his face is more noticeable than ever; he even has a little knick under his chin from shaving, and you move to brush your thumb against it as he swallows thickly.
“I’m just tired,” he says, blinking his dark lashes into the bags under his eyes,
“I know, baby. But a child is not way to fix that” you say. The for anyone part, you just think.
Deku pouts. He sighs. Then his face relaxes and he sags, his hands falling off you to lay limp in his lap, the silence in the room stretching like salt water taffy from the pier.
She was, and the only reason for that was because Joel was way too loud making his coffee and getting out the pans to cook breakfast for her before he left for patrol.
Joel was never loud, especially never loud enough to wake her.
“I heard you,” she mumbled, trudging over to the kitchen still wrapped in a blanket. She pulled a chair from their table out, facing him at the stove. “Everything okay?”
He nodded.
Everything wasn’t. He dreamed she died. It was a montage of every time it’s ever crossed his mind. Her in that bloody grass. Her skin ravished by an infected child in an abandoned van. Her face ripped apart while trapped underneath Sam. Her body, cold and pale on an operating table. Her, her, her.
Every single one played clear as day in his dreams, tormenting him with every possibility his my mind could conjure.
“Joel-“
“Nightmares. ‘S’all it was.”
“Okay…” she started, rising from the chair. “You always have me talk about mine, so…” Ellie approached the countertop opposite of him, jumping up and sitting atop it, her dangling feet hitting the lower cupboards
He hesitated before turning to her, eyes locking with hers as he sighed.
She was right. She didn’t always go into detail, he didn’t need her to, but he wanted her to release them somehow; and at night when she clings to him immediately afterward, that’s when it’s the easiest. And when she can’t talk to him, she writes or sketches them down when words can’t- don’t suffice. Anything that keeps her from compartmentalizing how they make her feel or what they make her think.
But Joel. He’s always the one to take care of her that he’s never had an out or a way to talk or feel them in a healthy manner, not like he tries to give her. Ellie tries to get him to verbalize something, but Joel is a damn brick wall when it comes to directly talking about his feelings, so it never goes anywhere.
But when it’s 5am and there’s the tiniest glint of sunlight that starts to rise and offers a faint, glowing light to their kitchen as they’re full of sleep and still in the midst of navigating these feelings, it’s easier to talk. They’re more malleable.
“It was you…” he started, doing some lazy hand motions to try and convey the word he desperately did not want to say alongside her name. “Repeatedly. Different scenarios just…over and over again.”
Her eyes went soft, understanding in a way that only they could understand.
She had the same ones. He knew.
“Figured I’d make you breakfast now and leave it in the fridge for you to heat up later so I could get a head start on patrol and… try to forget about it all.”
Joel cleared his throat, kicking up imaginary dust off the tile floor as she watched him.
Ellie reached her hand out and made grabby motions with her fingers. Joel noticed, a light, sleepy chuckle escaping his lips as he stepped towards her, both her hands holding onto his one. He stood beside her, their hands falling against her knees.
She rubbed her thumb over his hand. “Are you okay?”
He smiled. He knew that meant a plethora of other questions that they didn’t have time to cover. “I’ll be alright, Ellie.”
She nodded her head, still rubbing her thumbs across his hand. “I know. Just… wanted to check up on you.”
“And I…” he started, leaning over to kiss the hair above her ear, “am happy you do.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder as he brought his other hand in, covering all three of theirs and squeezing tightly.
“Since you’re up, how about helping me with breakfast? Wouldn’t turn down your old man, would you?”
She smiled, tapping her feet against the cupboards. She squeezed his hands and kissed his cheek briefly before jumping off the counter. “Can’t say I didn’t think about it… but,” she said, opening the fridge door. “Not for the world.”
I... I'm crying. People are so nice. So fucking nice and kind and lovely. Someone sent me money just now with the message "Get yourself a pizza." I'm literally in tears rn. Thank you, whoever you are. I love you, I love you, I love you. I've barely been out of bed, let alone eating right.
Okay i have yet to see a post about this that isnt filled with ppl being Annoying as Fuck on it, but,
theyve found wreckage of the submersible, it imploded (thank god, thats better than a drawn out suffocation over the course of several days, implosion means it was pretty much instantaneous) and the us navy have revealed they heard a weird sound on sunday from about where communication with the sub was lost, that was probably the sound of the implosion, [implied that they didnt say anything cos they didnt want to jump to conclusions without evidence of a wreckage, if there was a chance they were still alive.] no idea what the banging sounds were.
I do hope rescue efforts are extended to the migrants off the coast of greece, and am angry and horrified at their mistreatment, and that the media clearly cares less for their fates than that of the billionaires on the sub.
also, while i have you here,
The difference between a submersible and a submarine is not that one is safer. The titan was a submersible that was unsafe, but that is not because it was a submersible.
A submarine (or sub) is a watercraft capable of independent operation underwater.
A submersible is a watercraft designed to operate underwater, usually supported by a nearby surface vessel, platform, shore team or sometimes a larger submarine.
submarines generally dont go as deep as our deepest submersibles, but some can be down there for months at a time bc it is like. a self sufficient Ship. not all submersibles can go crazy deep, but to my knowledge, the only crewed vessels that can go that deep, are submersibles. (Alvin, deepsea challenger, limiting factor, trieste, fendouzhe or "striver").
I spent a lot longer on this than I can personally justify tbh. Anyway I saw a Soldier, Poet, King edit on TikTok featuring Vaggie, Charlie, and Lucifer, and decided to make my own version featuring Angel, Alastor, and Lucifer. Timing might be off because I've never actually done something like this and I'm bad at timing things with audio idk
This was fun! I might have to do more stuff like this :D