ʙᴏᴛᴀɴʏ ᴘᴛ. 1

I promise I didn't disappear, I just don't have any impulse control and started several at once again haha

ig credit: bellasbookishworld

Guys is this trend still a thing? Guys? GUYS- COME BACK-

I’ve been watching MHA recently can u tell

Long overdue timebomb art😫

yes bby powder taller than bby ekko just cuz

THE SIMILARITIESS OF THEM THOOO UGHH

Me and my arcane obsessed friend just got this idea while in class lol

WIP for like a month cuz im souper buzy woman, can't catch a break and I can't post the higher quality render i m gonna cri

En Pointe

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company

Fandom: Haikyuu

Ship: Kuroo/Ken

Rating: T

Tags: Angst, rejection

The rehearsal studio smelled like perfume and sweat. Kenma’s hands were trembling against the barre, knuckles white, trying not to cry.

“You weren’t supposed to take the role,” he said, voice a half-gone whisper.

Kuroo didn’t respond at first. He stood by the center mark, hair tousled from the practice. The light hit him perfectly. Principal dancer. Star of the show.

“You dropped out, Kenma,” he said finally. It sounded like an excuse.

“I sprained my ankle. I told the director I’d be back in two weeks at most. It wasn’t permanent.” Kenma turned around. His cat eyes sharp as the cuts in their pas de deux. “You told me you’d cover for me, not replace me.”

Kuroo looked down, jaw clenching. “The gala’s in six days. They needed someone.”

“They needed you, apparently.” He spit. The air between them crackled. 

Kenma took a step forward. A jolt shot through his joints. He wasn’t supposed to be dancing yet, but he’d been practicing alone. Hidden. Waiting for his return to the stage where he belonged. But this was wrong. It was supposed to be with Kuroo. “You could’ve said no.” Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes.

“I couldn’t,” Kuroo said, swallowing. “You don’t get it, Kenma. This isn’t like before. They were going to pull the entire piece if they didn’t have a name. I thought…”

“What? That I’d be okay with you dancing our routine with someone else?”

‘It’s not like that.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Kuroo moved toward him, but Kenma backed away.

“I trusted you,” Kenma said again, softer this time, like a ghost speaking from beyond. “Out of everyone in this company, you. You were supposed to be on my side.”

Kuroo ruffled, “I am on your side, goddammit!”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been pushed offstage?” The silence returned, heavier now. Harsher.

Kuroo reached out, his hand hovering over Kenma’s shoulder. So close to touching, but not daring to make contact. “I didn’t want to lose it,” he said. “The piece. Us. I thought if I could keep it alive until you were ready-”

“You killed it,” Kenma said, full tears spilling over “Because now every time I hear that music, I won’t think of us. I’ll think of you and her.”

Kuroo flinched. “I just wanted to protect it,” he whispered.

Kenma looked at him for a long moment. Then, finally, stepped forward and rested his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder. “You can’t protect something by pretending it doesn’t hurt,” he said, voice cracking. “Next time... just dance with me. Or not at all.”

Kuroo wrapped his arms around him, tentative, guilty. “Next time,” he promised.

Day 5 - Memory loss

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Bakugou Katsuk x Izuku Midoriya

Rating: T

Tags: Old married men in love, 800 words

Age 60

The morning sun creeps through pale curtains, spilling across the floor. Bakugou watches Izuku stir awake in their bed, the frown already tugging at his brows before consciousness even settles.

“Where am I?” Izuku whispers.

Bakugou swallows. “Home. You’re safe.”

A pause, “…Do I know you?”

It’s been twenty nine days since the last spark of recognition. Bakugou forces a breath through his nose and nods, even if it stings. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’m your husband, dumbass.”

There’s something flickering in Izuku’s eyes. Guilt? He looks around the room like it’s a museum exhibit. There’s a wall of photos. A desk cluttered with journals. Sticky notes lining the doorway. Bright, hopeful. Desperate. And then there’s the one by his bed, in green ink. 

If you don’t remember, ask Katsuki. He’ll help.

Age 24

“You’ve been writing things down more,” Bakugou mutters, plucking the notebook off the nightstand. “You’re twenty-four, nerd. You really need a grocery list just to remember eggs?”

Midoriya blushes, tugging the blanket up to his chin. “My head’s just… busy.”

Bakugou reads the entry.

Lunch with Iida at 1pmText Mom backBakugou likes black coffee now! don’t forget.

“Damn right I do,” Bakugou mutters, tossing the book back into the sheets. He ruffles green curls and grins when Midoriya bats his hand away, flustered and smiling.

Age 51

“Can I go outside?” Izuku asks quietly.

Bakugou lifts his gaze from the journal, heart tight. “Not without me. You got lost last time.”

Izuku’s brows furrow. “I did?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou says, softer. “You did.”

There’s a flicker of frustration, the kind that makes Izuku rub his temple.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Bakugou reaches for his hand, grounding him. “I’d rather find you a hundred times than lose you once.”

Age 27

The notebook habit only got worse. Or better. Depending who you asked.

Bakugou didn’t complain anymore, not when he found entire pages about him. Scribbled in tiny green ink:

Kacchan always takes his tea at bedtime. Kacchan gets quiet when he’s worried. Don’t push, just sit beside him. Kacchan said he loved me for the first time today. I didn’t say it back fast enough, and I think he thought I didn’t mean it. I’ll write it here 100 times to make up for it: I love him. I love him. I love him…

Bakugou had cried reading that. Privately. In the kitchen. Over fucking soup.

Age 57

Izuku’s handwriting is shaky now.

Bakugou flips through the most recent journal and sees a mess of half-formed sentences. Some pages are drawings.Of their house, their cat, a hero costume from years ago. But some are terrifyingly blank.

He found today’s entry.

There’s a blonde man. He looks sad when I forget him. He says he loves me. I might be crazy…but I think I love him, too.

Age 30

Midoriya stands in their bathroom, holding a toothbrush and frowning at it like it’s a math problem.

Bakugou leans on the doorframe, arms crossed. “You okay?”

Midoriya shakes himself out of it. “Yeah. Just zoned out.”

“You’ve been forgetting little stuff more,” Bakugou says.

Midoriya shrugs. “Stress, maybe. Work’s been…”

“Izuku,” Bakugou says, voice low, “you forgot your mom’s birthday.”

That shuts him up. Midoriya looks at the floor. “I wrote it down,” he says.

“I know,” Bakugou whispers. “But you didn’t check.”

Age 59

The sun rises like it always does. And like always, Izuku blinks awake.

He sees the man beside him, asleep in a chair by the bed, arms crossed, chin dipped down. His hair is a mess. His face is older than the boy in Izuku’s dreams. There’s gray at his temples now.

Izuku frowns. Then offers a wobbly smile, “Katsuki?”

Bakugou jerks awake. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t speak. Just stares. “You remember?” he breathes.

“I… I think so.” Izuku reaches out, fingers trembling. “You’re my husband.”

Bakugou grabs his hand and presses it to his lips, his eyes already wet. “Yeah, nerd. I am.”

Izuku looks at the photos on the wall. The cat curled on the windowsill. The green notebook by his bed. It has his name written over and over on the cover. Izuku Midoriya. You. You. You.

He looks back at Bakugou. “I dreamed about you,” he says softly. “I think I always do.”

Bakugou holds his face like he’s scared he’ll vanish. “Then come back to me,” he whispers.

Tears fall. “I’m trying.”

Age 20

Bakugou finds him asleep at his desk, head on a pile of notes.

He reads the top one.

Kacchan’s birthday: April 20. Don’t forget. You always forget. You don’t want to hurt him again.

Bakugou traces the ink with his thumb.

“Izuku,” he whispers, barely audible. “You never forget the stuff that matters.”

Age 60

The journal on the nightstand is open. There, waiting for tomorrow are the fresh scribbles.

I remembered him. I remembered us. Don’t let it slip away again. Fight for it. Fight for him.

Bakugou adds one line at the bottom in bold, jagged handwriting:

I will always find you, Nerd.

Forgotten Ekkos

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company Day: 1—Forgotten Fandom: Arcane Ship: Ekko/Jinx | Timebomb Rating: T CW: Ambiguity regarding the aliveness of a character

He lit up the city for her, going so far as to cross wires into underground power supplies he absolutely shouldn’t have access to. 

He painted on walls. Symbols highlighted by the transient stars. Arrows guiding her home. He wanted her to find her way back. Notes scattered like campaign leaflets that flooded the streets. Everywhere people walked, it was like a blanket of snow covering the ground. They needed to be reminded. Of the sacrifice. Who died so they could live. Who fought demons so they could continue to wake up another day.

He wrote her diary entries about his days. All the conversations he was going to have with her. All the welcome homes. She was going to know how needed she was. He kept her home clean. Every tool was organized. Every button dusted. He searched every nook, cranny and crevice for her. Foreign lands. On the home front. Up in the shiny world with the snobby people. He looked.

Ekko would illuminate the world searching for his Jinx.

He was gonna make damn sure, she will never be forgotten.

Timelapse

@academia-lucifer