#I’m constantly convinced everyone around me is constantly aware of and thinking about how fat I am

[donnieisaprettyboy]

hey y’all I’m trying to figure something out so…

[tsvkishma]

you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?

series: my hero academia / boku no hero academia

pairings: katsuki bakugo x reader

length: 5k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of making out (w/ a minor), breach of privacy??

tags: secret relationship, enemies to lovers, high school AU, reader-insert

summary: the mutual agreement between you and your bf to keep your relationship on the DL is about to be ruined when he makes the stupid mistake to leave his phone on the table for the whole class to see

author’s note: i’m so sorry! i really tried to make it gender neutral, but it was female leaning... i apologize! i’m still pretty new to writing dis homie so please be lenient when it comes to character accuracy lol. i also apologize for the messy, unstructured writing. also thank u to bae @izvkos for proofreading!

Just as you were getting ready to doze off, the school bell rang, startling you and making you jerk up from your comfortable position on the desk with your head in your arms. Some of your classmates got up to stretch, since it was the break time between classes. Unfortunately, it had only been the end of third period and you had a long school day to go through. You let out a low groan of disappointment. I guess I’ll have to keep myself awake just a little bit longer.

To be honest, you didn’t mean to stay up all night... it was just that you couldn’t help binge-watching your favorite show last night. You convinced yourself that you were only going to watch one episode before you went to sleep... then one lead to two... then three... and then before you knew it, the birds started chirping. But, hey! It wasn’t your fault that it was so addicting!

“Oi.”

You look up to see Bakugo peering over you with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face, “Tch, you don’t look so good today. Didn’t get enough sleep? How are you gonna be a pro hero with those bad habits of yours?”

You scoffed, “Oh, fuck off. Sorry I don’t go to sleep at 8 every night… grandpa.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me all you want, but who’s gonna be laughing when you fail your exams next week. I see you dozing off in class, you act like Aizawa-sensei doesn’t even notice,” Bakugo grunts.

You coo, “Awe, is blasty-boy watching me during class? I didn’t know you were this deeply in love with me! So cute.”

His face went red for a moment before his usual angry expression returned, “I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU DAMMIT! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR STUPID CRAP LIKE THAT!”

“Y/n! Stop teasing Bakugo like that! You know he can’t handle it...” Mina chimed in, joining the fun.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T HANDLE IT?! ” screamed Bakugo.

“Quiet down back there.,” threatened Cementoss as he entered the class to prepare his next lesson.

You and Mina were just laughing at your classmate screaming his head off, it was always an amusing sight if anything. Even though Bakugo denies having a crush on you, it wasn’t true. And you knew that. He had a fat crush on you, but it was more than that! He was your boyfriend.

You guys had kept your relationship on the down-low for about a month now, your relationship only became official about a week ago, but you guys had been going on dates prior. Bakugo wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you know, to protect his ego or whatever since there has always been a rivalry between the two of you and everyone in Class 1-A was painfully aware of it. He was too proud to let anyone know that he fell for someone he once vouched as his enemy.

-

There was always constant bickering between the two of you. Whether it be something minute or something that you would argue over for a couple of days. It’s not like the arguments were unintentional because they were started just to spite the other. Bickering would start about each other’s fighting technique in battle or even accusing the other of stealing their food from the shared fridge in the dorms.

The rest of your class was so sick and tired of the ongoing feud so one day, they set out a plan (led by Kaminari and Kirishima) to lock you two in a room just to sort out your differences. They set a date where they would trick you two into thinking that there was a class activity that everyone had to attend, but it would just be you two to show up and you would smash the beef between you two, and BOOM! Problem solved.

Just as the day came for the plan, something was weirdly off about you two. The morning of, you two both came into class at the same time and it was dead silent between you two. No bickering, no petty comments, and no evil stares. As more and more people were arriving, they would immediately notice the weird tension in the air. It was strangely quiet, not just because you and Bakugo were silent, but because everyone else was too. The thought of you guys not constantly at each other’s necks that morning sort of put off the rest of the class. It felt weird to talk over the dead silence when they were so used to your guys’ voices as ambiance while they were in conversation.

As the day went on, nothing changed and you guys were still silent and ignoring each other. Obviously, everyone was suspicious about what exactly happened between you two to make you ignore one another. There was no way that you guys were angry at each other because when you were, both of you made it clear by arguing and yelling loudly.

However, before anyone had the chance to ask why you guys were so quiet,  Bakugo decided to approach you for the first time between class periods. At this point, the class was back to normal and having regular conversations with one another during break time, but all of their eyes were on you two, and their voices hushed to pay attention to the tense interaction shared between you two.

“Oi. Let’s talk,” said Bakugo bluntly.

You looked up at his crimson red eyes for a second before looking away as if his presence wasn’t even there. At this point, you didn’t know what to say to him, yet. This fired up Bakugo because within a second he started yelling again.

“HEY DUMBASS! YOU DON’T GET TO IGNORE ME LIKE THAT!” he screamed.

You turned to meet his glare annoyed, “Oh, shut the fuck up. I don’t owe you shit. Leave me alone.”

He tested, “The fuck did you say to me, idiot?!”

“Fuck off, dipshit, all you ever wanna do is yell! And might I add- you do it loudly. Are you such a fucking grandpa that you can’t even hear yourself speak? Can you ever jjust shut. the. fuck. UP!” you yelled back.

The arguing continued and the rest of Class 1-A continued with their previous conversations after seeing you guys back to normal. The tension between you guys soon left their minds as they continued with the rest of their day. Unbeknownst to them, the night before you two were arguing like usual in the kitchen area of the dorms before Bakugo made his first move on you.

-

The argument started with you getting angry at Bakugo for making a mess on the counter after spilling some of his water. It was late at night and no one else was around and you two happened to wake up around the same time to get a drink of water.

“You idiot, clean up your fucking mess. You spilled it all over the counter,” you said as you gestured to the spilled water.

“Tch. I didn’t spill shit. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you go clean it up yourself?” he groaned as he leaned against the counter.

Appalled, you grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it at his head. He was caught off guard as the roll of paper hit his forehead. It fell and rolled out onto the floor. Now, he was truly annoyed.

“Fuck was that for, huh?!” he said staring at you, smoke practically coming out of his ears.

You laughed, “Just giving you a hand since it seemed like you were too fucking lazy to grab the paper towels yourself. Seems like the grandpa’s getting too old to do stuff for himself, boohoo.”

He growled, rage evident in his face. You laughed to yourself looking away from his face. The next thing you knew, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the fridge behind you. You were pinned by his big, rough hands and he was closer to your face than usual, yet still enraged.

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was useless, “Let go of me, idiot! You need to learn how to take a fucking joke.”

He didn’t respond, but he kept his eyes on your face. You tried moving away, but now his grip on your shoulders tightened, making your breath hitch.

“What the fuck is your problem? You want me to say sorry or something? Did the paper towel knock the fucking sense out of you? Let me go!” you argued.

“What happened to all your fucking hero training? Can’t get out of my grip, huh? How pathetic,” he growled in a low tone.

You felt his eyes piercing into your own and it was making you a little bit uncomfortable. He’s never been physical with you, even with the constant bickering between you guys. This was a side of him you’ve never seen.

You started, “Look, did I hurt your feelings or something? Did I hit you really hard on the head? There’s no point in holding me against the fridge. Plus, the handle is kind of hurting my back-”

“Shut up,” he stated plainly.

He looked away, avoiding eye contact with you. Okay.... suspicious much...

You tried moving once again, then he pulled you up from the fridge only to slam you back against it, but this time harder.

“Why can’t you just fucking stay still?!” he started yelling.

“Ow! Because you’re being a fucking weirdo! There’s something fucking wrong with you, it’s starting to creep me out! What the fuck are your intentions anyway, huh?!” you argued back.

His calmness fading, he yelled back, “SHUT THE FUCK UP! ALL YOU EVER DO IS GET ON MY FUCKING NERVES LIKE YOU KNOW EVERY FUCKING THING IN THE WORLD!”

His face was inching closer and closer to your face with each word pouring from his mouth. You smirked at this.

You laughed, teasing, “Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?”

He immediately froze after hearing that sentence spill from your mouth and avoided eye contact yet again. Oddly enough, he returned to his calmer self... If you didn’t know any better, it was obvious that that sentence held some truth with him.

“Look just-”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes shot wide open at the shock of the situation. Bakugo Katsuki fucking kissed you... Bakugo Katsuki. The Bakugo Katsuki who always argued with you. The Bakugo Katsuki who always got on your nerves. THAT Bakugo Katsuki.

Taking you away from your thoughts, he pulled away from the kiss. He examined your face for your reaction, but you were frozen in place with your eyes shot wide open. You didn’t know what to do, as if you were a computer and you were going through some code that you weren’t programmed to handle. He looked away and scoffed at himself, mumbling.

“Of course, she didn’t fucking like that, idiot...” he mumbled.

His grip on you loosened and his hands were brought to his side and he couldn’t bear to look at you in the face again. Breaking from your frozen state, you focused your eyes on him. He pulled his face away from your point of view and was scratching his neck in embarrassment and you could notice the light blush spread on his cheeks. You felt a little tug on your heart that you’ve never felt before when looking at him. At that moment, he was just so freaking cute.

Mentally telling yourself that you’re gonna regret this later, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him closer to you again. Your lips locked with his and you closed your eyes to bask in the moment. Only this time, Bakugo’s eyes were shot wide open, but only for a second. Relief soon spread across his face and his eyes rested on your waist, pulling you closer.

Both of you guys wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever, the rivalry between you two completely non-existent. As all good things must come to an end, you pulled away from him and your eyes made contact for a second before you both looked away, blushing. Realization soon hit you and you didn’t know what to do next.

“I-”

“Uh-”

You guys stuttered at the same time, making eye contact for a second before looking away. The atmosphere between the two of you was confusing. Before you could think of another thing to say, he spoke up first.

“Good night,” he said.

He walked away swiftly and turned the corner to the hallway towards his dorm. You stood for a few seconds not knowing what to think. You released the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in and proceeded to walk towards your dorm room. Leaving the kitchen a bit of a mess for the night.

The next day it was Kaminari who was blamed for leaving the paper towel on the floor and some spilled water on the counter. Poor boy.

-

Now, the relationship that you had with ‘blasty-boy’ would probably seem complicated and confusing in the eyes of others, but you two were pretty content with where you guys were at. There was an unspoken agreement that you would keep your relationship under wraps. You knew how Bakugo always tried to upkeep his ego of being the best. You’ve always assumed that he didn’t want anyone to know he had a soft spot for you. And you didn’t necessarily mind not sharing your relationship out in the open, anyway. I mean, you guys only just made your relationship official, but it was a little hard to keep your mouth shut when you desperately wanted to gush about him with the other girls of Class 1-A.

Although, you guys have managed to maintain the rivalry between you guys in front of the others. It’s not like you guys were faking it, though. Only now, you guys saw it as fun, meaningless banter and meant nothing by it. The few times that you’ve got to spend with Bakugo alone were completely different from when you would be with him as a group. 

On one of your more recent dates, he invited you to watch a movie in his dorm room and he was so adamant about keeping you close to him throughout the movie. At one point in the night, you tried to get up to use the restroom real quick and his arm around your waist pulled you back down, making you fall onto his lap and you stared up at him. He ignored you and stared at the laptop screen.

“Uh... I need to go pee. Let me go, please?” you smiled up at him.

He gave you a glance and reverted his stare to the screen again, “No.”

“What do you mean no? I drank so much water because the popcorn was too salty... come on. You want me to pee on you or something?” you joked.

He laughed, “So, what if I do?”

You sat up and his gaze finally met yours and his signature smirk was plastered on his face.

You grabbed one of his pillows and hit him with it, “Ew, you’re so fucking gross! I’m going.”

He laughed and finally allowed you to leave, but rest assured, he snuggled up with you when you came back.

-

Right now, you were hanging with the rest of your class in the common room. On Fridays, you guys all agreed to a movie night after a long week of classes. You were sitting with the rest of the girls, settled between Momo and Mina. The movie hasn’t started yet since everyone was starting to get comfortable and settled in. A few of your classmates were grabbing popcorn and other snacks in the kitchen while the rest of you guys were just chatting. Somehow, the conversation between the girls evolved into talking about relationships.

“Oh my god! There was this really cute guy that I accidentally bumped into at lunch and apparently he’s a third-year! I hope I bump into him again, he was seriously cute,” gushed Mina.

“That’s so cute, Mina! I wish I had, like, ANY romantic interactions. My life’s so boring...” groaned Ochaco.

“Same,” said Hagakure.

The rest of the girls sort of nodded in agreement, but you just sat there sipping your juice pouch loudly.

“Y/n? You’re awfully quiet,” teased Tsu as she nudged you with her elbow.

“Well, I mean-”

“What are you ladies talking about over here, huh?” said Denki as he and the other boys inched closer to the girls to join their conversation.

Momo spoke up, “Seems like Y/n over here has a crush!” 

You covered your face in embarrassment, “No I do not! It’s... uh... look we’re just... talking?”

Kirishima teased, “Awe so who’s the lucky individual?”

“Yeah, I wanna know who captured our Y/n’s heart,” laughed Sero.

“It’s no one...” you said after trying to recover after digging yourself in a deeper hole.

“Hey, Bakugo. How do you feel about Y/n’s new crush, huh? Maybe your love for her isn’t reciprocated after all...” started Kaminari before Bakugo stood from his seat on the couch and grabbed his shirt to intimidate him.

He growled, “I don’t have a crush on Y/n. How many times do I have to tell you idiots that?!”

“You’re just jealous that Y/n’s significant other is probably hotter than you!” laughed Mina.

Visibly annoyed at the situation, Bakugo walks away rolling his eyes and mumbling, “Tch. Can’t believe I go to school with a bunch of idiots...”

“Awe, can’t take it anymore? Your love for me is so strong that it pains you to listen to this conversation, huh, Bakugo?” you teased.

“Shut up. I’m going to the bathroom,” he said plainly.

The rest of your classmates on the couch got a laugh in before the topic of your potential significant other died down into smaller topics within different people. Those who were in the kitchen preparing the snacks for everyone finally came back and everyone was finding their seats around the TV and your boyfriend had yet to come back.

You pulled out your phone to text him and right as you did, Iida turned off the lights.

“Yo, Y/n. Turn off your phone it’s too bright and the movie’s about to start,” nudged Mina.

You apologized, “Sorry. I’ll turn it off in a minute I just need to text someone.”

You pulled up your boyfriend’s text log and typed in a message for him:

yo blasty boy why arent u back from the bathroom the movies starting

...also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle (lowkey of course hehe)

After sending those two messages, you put away your phone in your pocket. Everyone was concentrated on the movie and you set your attention on the TV screen until...

PING PING

A phone on the coffee table lit up brightly while making two loud notification pings. Everyone lost focus on the movie and looked over at the phone on the table. No doubt that it was your grandpa of a boyfriend’s phone pinging. Before you could do something, Kirishima grabbed it.

“Who the hell didn’t turn off their ringer? And why is it so damn loud..” laughed Sero.

Kirishima’s eyes scanned his phone for a quick second before his eyes widened and he covered his mouth in surprise.

“Holy shit! Bakugo has a girlfriend!” yelled Kirishima.

You couldn’t help but cover your face in your blanket... Bakugo was about to be so mad at you. Your secret would be out and honestly, you were glad, but you know that your boyfriend didn’t want anyone to find out anytime soon. At least, not like this.

Everyone turned to Kirishima, suddenly losing interest in the movie playing in front of them.

“Oh my god, you’re joking!” squealed Yaoyorozu.

Ojiro claimed, “There’s no way that Bakugo has a girlfriend. Not that hothead.”

“Bro, I’m not joking! And guess what... it’s someone in this room!” exclaimed Kirishima.

Everyone starts looking around the class, silently accusing their classmates of being the culprit.

“Look what they said: ‘also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle‘! Someone better start speaking upppppp!” said Kaminari teasingly as he got the phone from the red-haired boy.

“So, who is it?” grinned Ochako.

Sero peeked at the phone in Kirishima’s hands, “There’s no name, it just says ‘dumbass’. That’s so like Bakugo.”

You sighed in relief. You didn’t know that Bakugo didn’t have your contact as your actual name. 

“G-guys! I don’t think Kacchan would want us to go through his phone...” protested Midoriya.

“Midoriya is right! This is not respectful behavior, we should respect our classmate’s privacy,” Iida said matter-of-factly.

Kaminari replied, “Aw, come on you guys are no fun! It’s harmless, anyway! If it really is someone in our class, we were bound to find out! It’s inevitable!”

You grab the phone from him and said, “Wow, Kaminari, I didn’t know you had the vocabulary capacity for the word inevitable! Now, let me see this...”

Lo and behold, your messages were shown on the screen under the name ‘dumbass’. You tried to analyze the situation and how you could use this small sliver of anonymity to your advantage. You concluded that just trying to play off the situation would be the best thing to do-

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s that as Bakugo’s wallpaper?” said Mina as she slowly grabbed the phone from your hands.

Right then, a horror scene played out right in front of your eyes. As everyone was standing crowded around the phone (whether they agreed with peering through your boyfriend’s phone or not), they were looking at the brightly-lit device in the pink girl’s hands and she deleted the notifications to show his very-telling wallpaper… you could say there was a slight miscalculation in your plan as you failed to notice earlier that his wallpaper was the two of you... making out.

You couldn’t bear to look at what was on his phone as everyone let out their gasps. It was too embarrassing, everyone seeing such an intimate moment on your boyfriend’s phone. Bakugo had taken that picture on a whim one night when you two were having one of your movie nights. When he did that, you were shocked because there was no way that Bakugo took pictures of himself ever. Honestly, you were shocked to see that he knew how to take a selfie. Nonetheless, you peeked through your fingers at the phone in Mina’s hand just for a bit.

To your surprise, he set the wallpaper to LIVE MODE. Live mode...... Everyone was watching you guys make out in action like it was a fucking movie.

That motherfucker...

The silence of realization was then disrupted as the girls let out their squeals and the whole class was causing a commotion while the boys high-fived each other as if they won a competition or something. Everyone was up and moving, a strong contrast from them mere minutes ago when they were lounging around on the couch and floor. Sero was shaking your shoulders as you covered your face in your hands. Your face was heating up from all the embarrassment and you couldn’t bear to look at any of your classmates after what they just witnessed.

You didn’t know what to think. Half of you were completely embarrassed that your friends just saw you in an embarrassing scenario and half of you were angry at Bakugo because this was all his fault! Who the fuck puts such an intimate moment as their wallpaper?! Why not something cute? And of course, it had to be a live photo…

You finally peered through your hands again to see the scene in front of you. Mina was laughing so hard on the couch that she was on the verge of tears.

“I CAN’T BREATHE! NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WOULD I EVER EXPECT THIS SHIT!” she cried.

Most of the boys were still jumping up and down like some monkeys due to the sheer excitement and energy in the room. Uraraka walked up to you and smiled widely while placing her hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wow! Who would’ve thought that you and Bakugo were a thing! I honestly didn’t see that coming… sorry that we all had to find out that way. I was a little too absorbed in the excitement to consider how you felt,” said the round-faced girl.

With your face still red, you said, “Don’t worry about it… it was bound to happen soon enough, right? Although, now I’m a little embarrassed, but I guess I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to put much effort into hiding our relationship anymore.”

Yaoyorozu chimed in, “Honestly, this is more entertaining than the movie we were just watching!”

You laughed along with the other girls who were nearby. On the other side of the room, the boys were making a train throughout the room and singing.

“Uh, y/n,” interrupted Asui, “Look.”

The man-of-the-hour walked in the room with his hands in his pockets with his usual grumpy expression. He stopped to examine the room and stared quietly at the energetic group of boys.

He scoffed, “What are you nerds doing? Why aren’t you guys watching the fucking movie, huh?”

He looked around the room until his eyes met yours and you quickly looked away, which caught his attention. Your mind was racing a mile a minute trying to think of an excuse. Your gaze averted to the ground, but you could hear his footsteps heading your way.

“Since when did your socks suddenly get so interesting that you can’t look me in the eyes?” teased Bakugo.

He brought his hand up to your chin and lifted your face to meet his gaze. His playful smirk instantly dropped once he saw your expression. Your eyes were borderline teary and seemed lost, like a sad puppy.

He whispered so that only you could hear, “Baby… what’s up?”

You wanted to give in to his touch at that very moment and run into his arms, but you resisted because you knew that it would be too selfish given how you just broke your guys’ agreement. You didn’t deserve to be in his embrace right now, he was seconds away from finding out that your guys’ secret came out accidentally all because you sent a random text. You pulled your face away from his grip and moved away from him.

“W-wait, what-” he started.

“HEYYYYYYYYYYY, BAKUBRO!” said Kaminari and he wrapped an arm around him (much to Bakugo’s dismay), “How come you didn’t tell your buddies that you had a soft side to you, huh?”

Bakugo grunted, “What the fuck are you going on about?”

Kirishima chimed, “You know, you shouldn’t leave your phone out in the open like that… it makes you vulnerable!”

Still confused he said, ”Did worms get in your brains? We’ve been only one day off from school and you start lacking common sense?”

To his surprise, you walk up with his phone in your hand while keeping eye contact, unlike earlier.

“Sherlock, I thought you would’ve connected the dots by now,” you sighed, with a tinge of sadness behind it, “Your wallpaper… really?”

You hold up the phone up to his face and his reaction was almost humorous to you. His eyes widened and his face was painted with a light tint of pink.

For the first time in your life, you witnessed your boyfriend at a loss for words. The rest of your class watched the whole interaction and some restrained laughs were let out and they were all back to square one, laughing like maniacs. You were about to join in and laugh with them when you realized again what the situation at hand was. You were scared of how Bakugo would react since this would be the first rift in your relationship and you didn’t want to have a genuine argument with him, especially with how angry he could get. Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands grasp yours and you look up to see your boyfriend smiling at you.

“I-”

Before you could say a single word, he hauls you on his shoulder, and you yelp in surprise. You don’t know how you ended up in this position, but now you’re dangling off of him and now you’re staring at the ground. (Also, his face was dangerously close to your ass, but you didn’t mention it.) He starts walking away and away from the commotion towards his dorm room. Before you can protest, he leans his head on your body causing you to freeze up. You could feel his warmth from his body heat against your shirt.

“You know… I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you,” he says quietly.

Your brain took time to process that sentence… was Bakugo actually not mad? Most importantly, who knew such sweet words could come out of his mouth? You couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief and you relaxed a bit.

Wanting to tease him, you said, “Sorry, you were too quiet. Could you repeat that again?”

He groaned, “I said… I’m not mad at you, I could never be.”

You giggled, “I know. I heard you the first time, but I thought my ears were deceiving me… Katsuki Bakugo is saying something nice for once? Whatttt…”

He shook you a little, “Forget it. You didn’t hear anything.”

Raising yourself a little, you patted your boyfriend on the head, “Nope. Remembering that phrase forever and ever.”

“Whatever.”

You smiled, “Whatever!”

[asmolemmeeatyouout]

Clearing out the drafts so

Random hc’s for the boys

That I don’t wanna even try organise

CW: one non graphic mention of gore

Lucifer has misophonia, he hides it well but does frequently bend/break cutlery because of it.

(Catch Satan chewing as loud as he possibly can)

👾Levia👾chan👾🥺😳😩😖😣🍥😓😥🤢🤢🤮🥉🥉🥉 texts 🐒😈📱 📲 like 👍 🤗💃 this 😊 😊 😊 🥵 🥵😣😣😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭😏😏🤯

(🙌 Yes 🙌 👍 👏 it’s 👋 🙋‍♀️ every 💫 💫 💫 text 🙈 ☺️ 🙈 . 🚫 No 🚫 you 👨 👩 cannot 👅👀👅 make 👉👈👉👈 👁👄👁him 🛑 stop 🛑😈👿😈 ‼️❕‼️🐠 (<Henry)

Will role play as Henry (the fish, specifically) while texting you when he’s too shy to ask you things, the only hint you get is him ending every text like with ALL the fish emojis. If you refer to him as Levi not Henry during this he will SULK.

Calls your texting dry af if you don’t send at LEAST four emojis with every message

The best subtle magic belphie has is his sheets are always crisp and new

Like every night is shaved leg fresh sheets night smooth

His magic only works on his sheets so he sneaks his other washing in with beels the lazy git

Beel knows he just doesn't care

Beel does the most laundry out of the brothers bc he eats in bed CONSTANTLY

(He also eats everything he spills but that's not gonna stop the spaghetti stains- or the punishment from Lucifer when he accidently swallows the sheet too)

Beel once chewed belphies hair in his sleep

This is the main reason the twins have separate beds

If belphies asleep somewhere and wants a cuddle he will just kidnap the nearest person if no ones around, this includes little d’s and lessor demons, his magic will put them to sleep fast enough it can’t be stopped

Asmo’s body changes with trends (its fucked that body types have trends), but the devildom is slower in its trend rotation which is why he’s currently obsessed with the 2000’s esque stature (give 👏 us 👏 fat 👏 asmo 👏! ! !)

Levi has the FATTEST ass around (and cute little love handles and a soft belly, boy sits on his ass all day no way he’s ripped)

(Still has demon strength tho, but his human glamour is much less intimidating than his true demon self (think @waltnut 's form hc’s)

Satan’s whole feather boa getup is literally a cat toy. He wears it to entice cats he knows it’s ugly.

Asmodeus will take and wear your clothing without asking. This includes underwear, I suggest you get a lock for your closet.

Beel has FRECKLESS HES A FUCKING GINGER GIVE HIM FRECKLES OR GIVE ME DEATH DEVS !,!

In line with this, the first time beel went to the human world he burnt tomato red under the sun. He was not aware sunscreen was a thing due to the whole perma night devildom thing.

Stoner! Mammon supremacy

(he also deals coke bc moneeeeyyyy) (lucifer doesn’t care as long as it’s not in the house, drugs aren’t a. Illegal in the devildom, and b. that harmful to demons, it’s also his most respectable way of getting Grimm considering all his other hijinxs)

Asmo once convinced Satan to wear a sexy cat costume for a Halloween party

Satan had a sexual-identity-furry crisis in the bathroom

Devildom clothing isn’t gendered,

Asmodeus has been banned from wearing skirts in professional settings due to uh *coughcough* “accidental” flashing. (The same with crop tops/bras/see-through shirts)

Mammon and lucifer are scary similar in some respects like:

Lucifers receiving love language is physical touch and BOY is he starved. Touch his head and he will full body shudder black out for a second. Most people assume it’s acts of service bc he’s so overworked but that’s his giving, duh. (Try touch his neck and your wrist will be broken before you get close)

It’s why he wears gloves everywhere (also bc scars from the war, but I don’t remember the @ I heard that from first and I don’t wanna steal :) )

Mammon’s receiving love language is also physical touch, lucifer’s pride stops them from helping each other.

Lucifer will mock you if you get too close to his insecurities as a defence mechanism, it’s why mammon refuses to hug him even though they both need it.

Mammon just flat out denies his needs and emotions (partially due to lucifer’s defence response, partly bc him&co being abs assholes)

Mammon and asmo share the same music taste (which is GAY pop -think rina sawagama comme des garçons, Britney, gaga, montero- (I’m sry I don’t know more pop))

Asmodeus is the ‘tell you things that you think are tmi or too personal but actually mean nothing to me’ kind of honestly dishonest so no one knows his true feelings/can hurt him (me too baby !)

Beel is the only brother open about his emotions because he’ll just eat you if you dare make fun of him

Mammon offers beel food on really bad days because he’s too afraid of being mad fun of to just ask for a hug and beel showers anyone that gives him food in affection

Asmodeus LIKES violence, he thinks blood and gore is sexy, but he keeps that side of him very private as to not taint his perfect image and lower his chances of getting laid

(there are rumours and myths about what the avatar of lust likes to do to people who truly piss him off, but they’re so far removed from the Asmodeus everyone knows and loves that no one really believes them. Which is just how asmo likes it)

ALL the boys are obsessed with touching/stroking your neck/nape because there’s so much fragility there and it’s a huge sign of trust for a demon

Mammon is always warm

Levi is always cold (blooded)

When Satan gets really angry, objects near him just burst into flames

Okay I’m done now, thank u for reading !! :)

*** think I tagged the wrong creator gonna go find the right url soz guys !! (But also do check out @decaffeinated-demons they’ve got super cool ideas)

[youwontlikethisblog]

The Art of Subtlety in YSBTLF

Now I have yet to really talk about Betty and her development. Currently I'm on the episode where Betty goes to the bank to secure a loan through Terra Moda and it got me thinking.

Slowly we've been seeing the change from Armando's behavior towards her. Now it's been very subtle. One of my favorite scenes that display's the subtlety of his behavior is when Betty and him are being driven around by Don Hermes.

Right as they are leaving the building where they went to sign some documents to start the process of Terra Moda seizing Eco Moda Betty and Armando are talking.

She often jokes about her ugliness and as a person who in society has been outcaste by the mere fact I'm fat, I get that. We don't use it as a way to downplay our worth, better yet to find the humor in something that hurts us deeply. This is something Betty does often. Usually Armando agrees or goes along with it. The scene however caught my attention because after Betty jokes that she didn't get hired due to her ugliness she laughs and walks away and Armando stays behind and nods slightly, as if understanding that her ugliness could cause that BUT we then hear Don Hermes lovingly say "My beautiful daughter, did everything go well?" and Armando's face lights up. He sports a slight smile and stares at Betty as she laughs and tells her dad that everything went well.

The more I watch this show the more I realize that we see a lot of contrast between Betty and Armando's personal lives. While Betty's parents are very present in her life, constantly at the fore front of her ethics and morals as well as there to keep her grounded and realistic, though at times one can assume over baring and over protective, her parents love her deeply and you can tell. They treat her as their most precious possession.

However Armando's parents are a different story. His father always expects the worst of him, his mother coddles him but with conditions. His parents are only ever shown or involved when it comes to the company and/or his relationship with Marcela. Often when they do talk it's always about the company or again the relationship he's in with Marcela. It never goes more than that. We don't see them interact outside of that which causes that parental relationship to seem cold and distant. Kind of like a trophy child. Not really there to celebrate or show love when times are bad. Just there when things are on their terms. They show more interest in Daniel, Marcela, and Beatriz than they do to Armando and even then it's not saying much. In shorter terms, they suck.

So this scene in particular is one of my favorites for that reason. We see Armando, who at first was annoyed and being all pipirs nice to then engaging in conversation, joking, and letting his guard down and that's the thing. Often we see Armando with his guard up but around Betty slowly we begin to see him let his guard down.

Now in particular the reason why I bring this up is because from the get go I've always been interested in the complexities that Armando's character offers, but Betty is this different story. While Armando is complex in dark ways, Betty is complex is light ways. Her complexities aren't a form of harm rather a form of self preservation but still seeing the best in people, while Armando's complexities are in self preservation at the cost of others.

They both struggle in a sense with self worth. While Betty's self worth is rooted in her image and the way society treats her due to her not being societies beauty standers, Armando's self worth struggles are deeply rooted in his person's worth. Meaning that he doesn't find himself worthy as a human if he isn't succeeding, which makes him extremely arrogant. Betty's insecurities make her extremely humble and though being humble isn't a bad thing when there is no balance, her self worth is to the ground and due to this she allows people to step all over her and she often is a people pleaser because of this.

She lets people push her around and doesn't stand her ground when people are rude to her about her appearance. She does when it comes to her work but not as person and because of this she begins to idolize Armando because, unlike everyone before, he sees her as a person, when it comes to work.

This draws the lines, clean and crisp lines.

At work Armando defends her. He defends his decision to hire her. He defends her degrees and her experiences as an economist. This means a lot to her, because as mentioned before, she wasn't getting hired due to her "ugliness" and here comes a man that looks past that and hires her over the pretty one. We understand Betty's crush. We understand why she begins to idolize him even though he shows really crappy behavior at times.

First he constantly yells at her, laughs behind her back, allows his best friend to secretly see her as if she were this attraction in the tent of strange and ugly phenomena at the circus. To then being subtly annoyed when certain people mock her and make fun of her, though this gets him half points because he still allows his best friend to do this.

To end my analysis of Armando's behavior towards Betty up to this point I'll say that as this continues Armando begins to soften up towards her and while no one else picks up on it, Betty does. Which feeds her idolization of him.

Up to this point of the show Betty has been unconditional, even when she has needed to set aside her true feelings for him, she places his before her own. With Claudia, instead of ruining his night she stayed in the room all night long to which later we see Armando feel guilty over it but he gets no gold stars over that. That was a dick move.

Betty constantly shows loyalty, unconditionality, support, and most of all, team work. When he fails she always places herself to take the blame with him. She doesn't let him feel alone in his failures. Betty truly shows to love him. As a friend, as her boss, and as a girl who idolizes him and this moves him because to this point Armando hasn't had that. His parents do not show him unconditionality. His fiancé shows no team work or support and his best friend... he sucks. He is a terrible friend. Here is this girl who gives him all of this and for what? She doesn't ask for anything in return except to work for him. That's why we see the subtle change in him and Betty deserved that and more.

When they went to that cocktail with RagTela, where Armando started to hit on Ms. Colombia, I forgot her name, Betty doesn't seem jealous or hurt by that. In fact she seems unbothered and stayed in her lane, once again the lines being crisp and clean. However later on, when Betty tells Armando that they've got a meeting with Macro Textil and she sees Armando's face light up and ask how he looks, we see a subtle change, jealousy. She showed some of that with Claudia but Armando probably interpreted that as Betty being frustrated that due to that she had to sleep in the office that night. Here he doesn't pick up on it. She laughs dry only to cover her tracks and gets the man his cologne and throughout their meeting with Macro she shows to be a good wing-woman, minding her business of course.

Now let me skip some scenes. They're trying to negotiate a payment plan with Macro Textil. At this point what Armando has said isn't very convincing and Betty steps in, our bright Betty manages to say stuff that makes them think over their offer. At this point Armando has had all eyes on Ms. Colombia but he turns to watch her, with a slight smile on his face, a brief second of staring at her lips and completely absorbed into what Betty is saying and doing.

Now I want to bring us back to the main scene of this post. Betty sitting across her old boss. We have seen two scenes of her old boss and her interact before. Not only to drive the plot, but I believe to show the difference between a boss who was fond of Betty, after all he did say he was happy and pleased to help her with Terra Moda after being her boss for two years and a boss who is... more than fond of her but confused about it(to be fair Armando is so stupid when it comes to feelings the dude isn't even aware he's got them to begin with.) Betty's behavior is respectful and friendly towards her old boss. You can tell she's comfortable talking to him and so on and her old boss is the same. He's respectful and friendly towards her.

Why do I think this is important to the plot of the story?

It got me thinking. When I was working I got pretty close to my manager. He was married and older than me and we got along great. We talked, we joked, we had work discussions and we'd talk about life and stuff. However it was always very respectful and friendly, like a boss and their employee. My manager was very gentleman like. He didn't let me carry heavy stuff(As a fat woman I'm not used to that lol) however the line was there, Boundaries were there. Obviously we didn't have conversations that were too personal or even that personal at all. I could see Betty and her ex-boss being the same. A simple boss to employee friendship but if I had a... ship of sorts with my boss like Betty does with Armando my sensors of red flags would be blaring.

Think about your greatest friendship with one of your bosses. It's respectful and friendly but you don't cross lines, right?

Now I keep comparing their behavior to my manager's and mine.

That is why they show us, unlike with all the other Banks Betty has talked to, their interactions. To show a clear and distinct line of work related ships. Her ex-boss is truly fond of her but he doesn't cross boundaries and neither does Betty.

My ex-manager was respectful and we talked like an older brother and younger sister would. That was our work dynamic.

Betty's behavior has always been respectful and friendly towards Armando. Their work dynamic has been that she's the smart one and he's the pretty one and it works for them.

Betty's emotions start to blur when Armando's behavior towards her starts to blur. We go from seeing back to back scenes that show separate life styles and personal lives to having them blend in and once their personal lives begin to blend in so do their work lives.

During this day, before Betty goes to talk to her old boss, we are shown the scene when she tells him that Macro Textil was on their way to sign a contract with them that very day. Armando is between Betty and Mario and he talks to Betty. Constantly saying "Betty we did it!" and things along those lines but after each sentence he goes to Mario and repeats the same thing up until he goes to hug Betty.

[EDIT: This allows us to view Armando's personal dilema. Your brain often blurts the first thing that comes to mind and seeing as Armando isn't that bright when emotions are involved, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind and that is Betty. His first thought is to talk to Betty, to celebrate with her (since she is the reason why that business deal is even happening) but he is prioritizing her, picking up on it and then going to his best friend to celebrate it as well. It shows us subtly the change in him.]

He doesn't even do that to his best friend. Once again, the lines blur. Armando is the first person in this work related relationship to blur the lines and Betty follows suit.

Yes, the hug was work related. Yes he was excited over the fact they could release the new fashion collection they'd been working on BUT he hadn't done that for other deals that they had managed. He didn't do that with the first collection he launched. He's hugged her, up to this point, two other times. Once after the meeting with Daniel where Betty gave him lessons on economics and later when Betty was crying.

This is their third hug. I'm not reading into that hug but what follows before and after.

As I said when writing we're told to keep what drives the plot, character development, and overall story; everything else is thrown out the window. So these subtle changes, behaviors, and quirks we begin to see coming from Betty's interactions with Armando explain why it was so easy for her to be manipulated by this man. They are important because they are meant to show us what is okay and what is not. What is normal and what is not and in small ways their work dynamic begins to shift and the first person to do that is Armando.

because he didn't feed the illusion of love when that sinister plan was created, he fed it when he started to get confused about her. When he started to blur the lines.

Betty didn't just idolatrized him because he defended her work. She did it because he fed her feelings towards him. When Betty showed loyalty he showed to be more fond of her. He went from constantly yelling at her, being indifferent towards her, to trying to watch his tone and temper. When Betty showed unconditionality he showed kindness. When Betty showed support he showed loyalty and little by little we begin to see these two blur the line between personal and work.

The changes are really subtle that they fly over your head but when you pay attention to the actual story and not the romance you can tell when they start and that is one reason why I love this novela because very much like real life these changes are subtle.

Betty's love was really subtle and you can pick up on when she starts to fall in love, whereas with Armando his change goes from being so subtle that you're confused yourself to it being so bam in your face you can't deny it.

In any aspect their relationship begins to blur during these episodes and the clear contrast of that is with seeing Betty interact with her old Boss at the bank.

In the future episodes this theory is proven right when we no longer get clear cuts of scenes that show the difference between their personal lives better yet we get a very muddy and blurry view of their personal and work lives.

Betty's moral, ethics, and emotions begin to change when Armando begins to change. Up to this point Betty has been consistent with her morality, though close to stumbling her father has been there to keep her on the right path. She has been the sweet and loving person she's always been but her character has been consistent up to this point and it's important to note that and why everything that happens after this is the way it is because as an audience we have been warn over and over again and so have these characters but just like in real life we don't always pay attention to the subtle changes until their domino effect starts to make too much impact.

also sorry if this doesn't make any sense it's currently 6:40 am and I've been writing this since like four lol.

[jjuzoir]

Overdue | T. Shoto

request: “Hi! If your requests are still open, could I request a todoroki x reader oneshot please? Basically they’re childhood friends and go to UA together. Everyone ships them and Todoroki always treats reader super sweetly, but doesn’t realize that he’s also low-key pining for her. (always using endeavor’s credit cards to get her gifts LOL) eventually Todoroki figures out his feelings and confesses. Then the class catches them kissing in the dorms, making Todoroki and reader flustered! Thanks so much!”

a/n: this took me so long omgjdjsj fck all my reqs for this batch are taking me long :’) anyway thank you for being so patient with me @sugarandsoft ;;;

word count: 2933

When it came to romance it was safe to say Shoto was simply blind to it, the romantic feelings of those around him and himself were practically foreign to the teenager.

In all of your years of knowing him you had never once seen him actually be able to recognize the difference between friendship and crushing. To him there was no “I like you romantically” or “I don’t like you romantically”, it was always “I like you as a friend” or “I don’t like you as a friend”. The whole liking someone, crushing on them, dating-courting thing was as complicated as astrophysics is to an eight year old. Which led to everyone around him to immediately be put in the friendzone the minute they got to know him.

Everyone knew that, especially Class 1-A who had to bear witness to one of their top students crush hopelessly on you without even being aware of it. They knew, other students knew, the teachers knew, your parents knew, his mother knew, the League of Villains knew— everyone knew that Todoroki Shoto of class 1-A has a big, fat crush on you except Todoroki Shoto himself. Hell, it was so obvious All for One could’ve seen he had a crush on you.

It was the “little” thing that gave it away, like using the number-two-pro-hero’s credit card to get you a new phone because yours got a small crack. When confronted about it, he’d always say the same thing.

“She’s my friend and I enjoy using the old man’s money,” he’d scowl at Midoriya— Shoto’s self proclaimed wingman and president of the [Name] x Shoto club, who had questioned his spending habits when it came to you.

“So you'd do the same thing for any friend?” Izuku would push the boy further, he was going to get him to realize he liked you even if it killed him- and by the way the year had been going and Shoto’s complete obliviousness to the situation, the latter seemed more likely.

“I guess.”

“Oh really? Then where the fuck is my new phone, lukewarm? If you’re gonna call me your ‘friend’ where is my phone?” Bakugou questioned him with a snarl.

“Yours isn’t cracked, Bakugou-”

“Is that what it takes? ‘Cause I’m gonna do it!”

“Hey Izuku- what’s going on?” Ochako looked at the trio in front of her, easily being drawn to the loud noises coming from the living area.

“Half-’n-Half over here is gonna buy us new phones if we crack ours.”

“I see…”

“Seriously?” Mina barges into the room to pick up the teasing where the blond has left off, “But I like my phone- oh! I know, instead of a phone why don’t you get me some new sneakers!”

“And if I break my house, would you get me a new one?” The brunette asks, she’d rather shoot her shot or miss trying.

“So- you’re gonna admit you’d only do it for [Name] are you gonna need help placing some orders?” Bakugo smirks at Todoroki.

“Ochako and I can check real estate for you!” Mina giggles.

But rather than answering, the bi-colored haired teen simply looked down and mumbled to himself, annoyed; “I’m not buying anyone anything.”

Safe to say he didn’t keep his word because not a day later and he had bought you a new TV after you joked about getting tired of going down the stairs to the shared living space.

He’d make exceptions for you all the time, always covering it with the excuse of “she’s been my friend for longer”, even when it didn’t make much sense. From his limited physical contact rule to the reckless spending, you had him wrapped around your pinky and he didn’t even know it. Everyone would always tease you two about it yet both of you dense as rock to the implications never really paid them much mind.

But soon Todoroki was confused, really confused, by his peers and their words; they were constantly insinuating that he liked you in a more than friends way. At first it was easier to deny such claims, you were just friends— but the more the pestering continued the more aware he was of the ways his heart seemed to flutter at the mention of your name or how he began noticing how he stared at you more often than the rest.

But he couldn’t like you, you were his first real friend— the only person in his life that was always there, if he did like you and he did act out his alleged feelings there was always the possibility you’d say no. And that scared Todoroki more than he’d like to admit. You, on the other hand, did acknowledge the butterflies he’d bring you and welcomed them with open arms. Knowing your chances with him were slim, you unknowingly turned a blind eye to his behavior, chalking it up to him seeing you as his best friend (as much as it might’ve pained you to think like that).

It didn’t take long for you to notice how he seemed more hesitant around you, how he was shying away from your touch and the way he’d avoid giving you any response longer than two sentences, soon enough he was practically avoiding you altogether, and you were worried. In all of your years being his friend, Shoto had never been so cold and distant with you. Had you upset him? It was a complete 180º from before and it left you wondering why.

“Ugh, he’s just-! I’m so annoyed, Ochako!” You groaned into your pillows, “He's never acted like this before, he’s barely talked to me in weeks! I don’t know what I did or what to do.”

“[Name], it’s okay! He has been pretty off lately,” the brunette patted your back, “You should try talking to him!”

“How am I supposed to talk to him when he barely even lets me get near?”

“Hm, maybe leave him a note!” She suggests, brown eyes looking at you sympathetically.

“A note?” You look up and meet her gaze, “Huh…”

And so you did it, you scribbled down a meeting place and signed it anonymously before huffing, stuffing it in your bag and deciding.

“Dear Todoroki, please meet me in the kitchen after practice. It’s very important, you really need to come!”

Simple, short— straight to the point with little to no wiggle room for interpretation (other than a very insistent and kind of annoying person, but that’s a price to pay for the restoration of your friendship), if he didn’t come you’d simply harass him with more notes until he gave up or had enough to open up a paper store. Hopefully the former because you doubted you’d have enough post-it notes or the money for that many.

“Hmph! That should do,” you rub your hands before throwing a thumbs up at your friend, “Thank Ochako, I owe you big time!”

That morning you told Izuku and Iida about Ochako’s plan and how you hoped they’d make sure Shoto actually came to the meeting place.

“But, don’t you think he might, I don’t know,” the freckled boy scratched at his neck, “Think you’re going-to-confess-or-something?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” You look at Midoriya confused.

“He means that Shoto might think the note might be from someone who wants to declare their feelings for him.” Tenya informs you, maybe a bit too matter of factly for your liking no one likes being talked down to.

“Don’t worry guys, I think a love confession is the farthest thing Shoto will assume this is.” You wave your hands in an attempt to convince them otherwise.

“There is no way this is going to be a confession.” Bi-colored eyes squint at the blonde that walked besides him.

“Look, all I’m saying is this definitely smells like a confession scene to me,” Denki smirks at Todoroki, “The kitchen is a weird place though, maybe they’ve baked you some sweets! Bro, you’re so lucky!”

“You might want to check your nose because there’s simply no way, Kaminari.”

“Why?” Sero smiles as he asks, “You’re pretty popular with girls, why can’t this be another confession?”

“Because,” Shoto snatches the note from the black-haired boy’s hand, “This is [Name]’s handwriting.”

“Wait a minute-! You’re telling me she’s making a move before you?” Kirishima asks in surprise, “I knew you liked her but I had no idea she liked you back, huh. I can kind of see it though.”

“What are you even saying?” The boy in question grumbles, he knew he should’ve gone with Midoiya and Iida but he knew you were going to be there and he didn’t want to risk being a fool. Now he’s got dumb, dumber and the dumbest giving him butterflies by insinuating you like him back, great.

“That she likes you, dude!”

“Totally! And you- you like her back! So all you gotta do now is go accept her confession and stop moping around being all pathetic- ow!” Kaminari rubbed his arm, cursing Kaminari’s strength.

“Don’t say that!”

“Yeah, at least not to his face.”

Todoroki simply rolled his eyes at the boys before hurrying up his pace, today was going to be long as he asks himself if he should really go.

He had a lot to think about, this information was important to him; there’s a chance you like him and the thought made him happy— very, very happy. Just the idea that you might return these feelings, which he’s still trying to come to terms with, just confirms it in his mind that he, Todoroki Shoto, does like you; in a more than friends way. He’s not going to let the chance slip away.

By the time he’s at the meeting spot, he can’t deny that he’s excited even if  his face doesn’t really show it. He had been confessed to many times but this was different because, for the first time, he planned on saying yes.

He heard you approaching, the soft tap of slippers matching the beat of his heart. He liked you, he really did like you and you liked him back.

As you turn around the corner you’re met with a frowning Shoto and are slightly taken aback at his serious expression. You knew he tended to be quite inexpressive sometimes but after a while of not hanging around you can understand why others are off-put by his cold features and intimidating stature.

“Shoto, you’re here.” Even through your shock you still smiled at your friend, relived he’d even shown up with the way he’d been avoiding you. You make your way near the counter, before sitting on top of it, you had chosen the kitchen in case that he'd forgotten about the note but be there anyway getting himself something.

You’d have to be quick before he’d run away,  wanting to get straight to the point and ask him what had been going on. You cared about him and you missed him, you didn’t intend on wasting more time.

“I know it’s sudden but you've been avoiding me all week and I’m sick of it! I really care about you Shoto and you ignoring me like this hurts-!” You stuttered, too caught up in trying to pour out all your feelings at once— accidentally giving him the confirmation he needed that this was indeed a confession.

“It’s okay, I think I know what you mean,” he cuts in, his expression softening, “And I feel the same way too.”

“Huh-? Shoto what are you-?” You look around the room confused, if he knew how you felt then why did he continue avoiding you? Did he even really know what you were talking about?

“I was scared,” he continues paying your previous statement no mind, slowly approaching your sitting form before taking your hand, “that’s why I avoided you but knowing that you feel the same way, makes me happy I guess.”

You blink in confusion, what was he talking about? Neither of you were on the same page, you probably weren’t even in the same chapter, you furrow your eyebrows at the thought.

“Shoto, just to get this straight,” you look into his eyes causing him to blush a soft pink, what the hell was going on, “what feelings are we- uh, talking about?”

First he avoids you like the plague, now he’s blushing and talking about feelings? What did he think this was?

“Like.” He says staring at you in confusion as if you were the one not making sense.

“Like what?”

“Like.” Todoroki looks at you, soft skin creasing at the frown that was now adorning his face.

“Like what, Shoto?”

“Like as in ‘I like you’-like.” He squeezes your hand and you’re thankful you’re sitting down or else you think you’d fallen over at his words.

“Wait, you like me?” At the realization of what you had been just talking about it’s your turn to blush, the blood rushing to your cheeks giving them a soft glow, “You had been avoiding me because you liked me?”

“Well, yes, I just said that,” a pale hand comes to hold your cheek, “[Name], are you feeling alright?”

“You like me?”

He nods, a soft smile in his face as he assures you with a hug;  “I really do”.  This wasn’t the conversation you were expecting but it wasn’t unwelcomed either. In a way, it did answer your question but it left you in a bit of a dilemma because you did like Shoto and he liked you but, now, what did that make both of you?

“Do you like me?” He asked, his hand rubbing your back delicately and a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember all the times you’d comforted him when you both were younger. You just nod in fear of your voice giving out and accidentally ruining the moment.

“Are we- uh, dating now?” You ask into his shoulder, the soft smell of his shampoo filling your senses,

“Only if you want to.” He whispers. Neither of you were really physically affectionate with each other before this, at least not since you were little kids, but Shoto had to admit that holding you close like this was nice. Even if it had only been a week or two, you missed him and he missed you a lot and being able to hug you so freely made his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“I’d love to.” You pull away slightly from the hug to face him, your noses touching ever so slightly. You were happy, not only was your relationship with Todoroki restored but it had leveled up and you swore it was as if you were floating.

With hesitant hands he pulls you closer and you close your eyes, he smelt like soft wood and tea and you were reminded of all the times you’d go over to his house where a little Shoto would show you around his room and toys, excited to have a friend his father approved of. You were proud of the way he’d grown, how he’d soften up and learned, how he was able to let go of the anger and grow into himself, you always liked Shoto and to finally be able to be his girlfriend was all you could want right now.

“Can I?” He asked, the whisper soft and delicate in your lips; you nod.

His lips meet yours for a second, a sweet peck that left you giggling into him. You both pull away for a second before kissing once more, it was longer and almost sickeningly sick. You could taste the mint from him and you wondered if he could taste the sweets you had been eating earlier.

But, of course, in class 1-A nothing is really a secret for long and you hear clapping from behind you. Shocked, you both pull away flushed red as your friends are left stifling laughs. The kitchen door is wide open and you can see most of them pilling against the frame with wide eyes.

“Fucking finally, I thought we were gonna graduate before you two got together.” Bakugo is the first to speak.

“I’m surprised they even kissed, I thought it was going to take them another 15 years to get there!” Mina giggles to Ochako who can only nod in amusement, she gives you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes.

“How did you even know we were here? Aren’t you meant to be at practice or something?” You ask them, clutching Shoto’s shirt in an attempt to hide your face.

“Come on, you passed the note to Kaminari and Sero and expected us to not come?”

“I wonder what your kid’s quirk is gonna be like,” Midoriya mumbles into his hand, “Will they get both of Todoroki’s quirks plus [Name]’s?”

“Izuku! Don’t say things like that!” Iida begins scolding the green-head much to both your boyfriend and your amusement, “To say something so suggestive when they’ve only gotten together-!”

“Iida now you’re making it creepy!” Everyone begins grumbling, some annoyed and some laughing at the comments and the once peaceful and romantic atmosphere turns rowdy as everyone starts talking about the newly formed relationship.

“Great now I can’t use the kitchen without thinking about you two making out!” The blonde grumbled before storming out bringing with him a new round of laughs as you and Shoto blush awkwardly.

Safe to say, none of your classmates will ever let you live down how long it took you two to get together.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

If They Get Married I'd Be Your Uncle

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, flirting, Bruce is frustrated

A/n:So been in a dc mood today and couldn’t get this out of my head i really hope you enjoy it xx

Bruce meets you when you both get called into the school and instantly wants you to himself.

If They Get Married I'd Be Your Uncle.

You grumbled as you walked up to the pretentious school pissed that it wasn't near any bus routes, cos these type of people don't use that sort of thing. The walk was long and arduous especially after the 10 hour shift you just finished cos some stupid little twat decided he didn't feel like coming in today and called in 'sick' at the last minute even tho you heard his giggling girlfriend in the back ground. Sighing you pulled out your hair tie slapping it up into a neater messy bun as you made your way into the school reception stopping ,you raised an eyebrow at the receptionist as she gave you a side glance pretending not to notice you. You looked up to the ceiling praying for some restraint because you'd had just about as much as you could take today and didn't need the snobby attitude of these people. After a few moments you looked at her.

"Excuse me I'm here to see Mr Koleman I'm running a bit late so could you sign me in?" you said as calm as possible she rolled her eyes.

"Mr Kolman doesnt take personal meetings on the school grounds" she said snidely dismissing you , you growled at the implication.

"I'm Jack Cookes sister you phoned me earlier?"

"oh? you have an appointment?" she said. you grit your teeth.

"Trust me if I didnt I wouldnt be here" she gave you the once over then reached a perfectly manicured hand beside her screen lifiting a clip board

" and your Mrs?" you shook your head

"Miss Cooke with an e" a chuckle and whispers rippled through the office as she checked you in and handing you a visitors pass. You snatched it and made your way down to the hall to a mini reception outside the principles office. As you opened the door you spotted your little brother supporting a bloody nose ,cut cheek and eyebrow. Ignoring everyone you ran across the room stopping before him and his best friend.

"Oh for fuck sake Jack, here let me look" you said tilting his face this way and that you looked beside him swivling on your feet pulling the boys face up.

"Damien are you ok- seriously you to?" you cut yourself off seeing a dark bruise on the boys jaw you tutted rummaging through your bag pulling out a pack of ibuprofen and small bottle of water passing it to them both.

"here take these" stopping as the principles secretary snapped at you.

"Miss! you cannot give medication to other student's god knows what they are!!" you rolled your eyes giving the sleeve of tablets to Jack who then popped out two and gave them to Damien before taking his own.

"Happy?" you quipped at her with an innocent smile then turned to Jack

"Jack please please tell me you still have all your teeth" he smiled showing a full set then looked at Damien who copied. You sighed in relief smoothing both boys hairs then placed a kiss on each of their heads. You continued coddling them unaware of the man behind you watching shocked as damien sat still letting you fuss over him. Bruce didnt know you from adam but damien apparently did

"Was it them again? I told you if your gonna retaliate keep it off campus!" you said kneeling in front of them hand on either boys knee.

"We didn't start it." your brother stated and you believed him , he and Damien get themselves into trouble I mean there a couple of teenage boys there bound to act up but he doesn't just 'verbally disrespect people and attack other students' as the teacher on the phone had put it.

"Ok what happened?" you asked they both looked down Damien spoke up first

"They started calling us names again, kyle tripped and blamed Jack for it getting him told off so i called Kyle out on it then they started calling us names again we told Mrs Hatt and she laughed saying sticks and stones" . Jack continued

"So I called her a drunk fat bitch who was at best a fucking baby sitter, kyle slammed my head into the desk for it cos he's a little ass lick." you sighed as Damien took over

"SoIi punched kyle in the face knocking him on his ass and Clarence hit me and Jack headbutted him then we were pulled apart"

"yeah were did you learn to punch like that? he went down like a sack of shit" Jack asked laughing damien joined him laughing you deadpanned as they high five'd one another.

"Ok guys thats neither here nor there the point is your teacher sat back and watched?" they nodded there teacher seemed to have a problem with your brother due to your social class, he'd been accepted as part of a new law that all private schools must accept a certain number of full scholarship students to give everyone 'an equal opportunity' you'd been complaining to the school about the bullying and the teachers attitude but nothing has been one it seems.

"So you didn't hit them first?" you asked Damien shook his head at you. you believed them they were good kids.

"Good but you know fighting isn't the answer right?" they shook their heads you stood up fully taking a seat beside them.

"Damien thank you for helping him and Jack fuck sake don't you know headbutting hurts you more than the other guy. I'm sorry this is still happening guys but I'm gonna take care of it ok? trust me?" they both nodded at you still looking a little sorry for themselves you swung around in your seat only now seeing Bruce sitting opposite you.

"Bruce Wayne, you must be Jacks sister Y/n was it?" you nodded as his hand devoured your in a hand shake.

"Yep that's me. sorry your boy got dragged into this" he chuckled waving it off

"He will always find trouble at least this time its for sticking up for his friend, im glad to finally have a face to put to the name they talk about you alot" you nodded at that couldn't help your breathing hitch slightly at his smile his eyes seemed to burn into you analyzing you. You flushed slightly under his gaze

"Good things i hope" he nodded at you licking his bottom lip damien sighed you loked away before smirking at Jack.

"You really called her a drunk fat bitch?" he laughed proud of himself

"Yeah, sticks and stone and all that thought id test it" you laughed out loud

"To quick for them huh? I see where your going with it tho smart ass" he smiled sheepishly

"Well it worked for you, had to give you a leg to stand on" you laughed high fiving him . Bruce flinched as the display made you look your age. your relationship with your brother was a strange one. One moment you had to be the 'politically correct parent' the next you could return to being his 'cool older sister', there was 12 years between you but it didn't bother either of you , it wasn't that long ago that you were in school so you understood him. You struck up a conversation with the two boys, Damien had been the only one in the school to get along with Jack and you were thankful that they found each other two peas in a pod and he seemed to be coming round constantly it hadn't taken long before you started mothering him to. They were always together at your house or the manor but youd never met bruce jntill today sure damien had spoke about him, convinced that the two of you would hit it off, you just laughed him off saying it was wishfull thinking, but you couldnt help but wonder as you sat across from the handsom man well aware of his eyes watching your every move. Bruce watched fascinated as you seemed to be on the same level as the boys , if he was honest he was happy to see Damien relaxed around someone. Damien constaly gushed about you to him and he could see why as his eye scanned you up and down taking everything in , you was certainly beautiful petite and slightly heavy set you had a young carefree air about you that still held a nurturing aspect , probably what drew damien to you the boy had never had a motherly type of women around him, hell even he felt drawn to you in more ways then one, he noted as he felt,his blood rush south. It had been a while since any woman had coaxed such a strong reaction from him. He'd never been one for the young domestic type but there was something in him that wanted you. He tried reasoning that it was because of the way you had coddled his son, or maybe it was that he missed that motherly affection himself, but no there was something more then that a deep atraction pulling at him.He could see why Damien had taken a shine to you he'd be lying if he said he hasn't already been thinking of a reason to meet up with you outside of school. It was rare that someone caught him by surprise and you had defiantly caught him by surprise. Clearing his throat he re-position himself on his seat as his boxers became tighter embarrassed and admittedly a bit confused as watching you mother the two teens had begun to arouse him. You looked over to him with concern.

"Are you ok Mr Wayne?" he inwardly groaned at the name and way you looked at him so innocently ,no idea what you were doing .fuck. He forced a charming smile

"Yes just wish they'd hurry up." you sighed pouting slightly

"It seems a bit stupid calling this an emergency then making us wait this long. twats." you snipped crossing your arms across your chest huffing he chuckled hearing the barely held back irritation, imagining just how bratty you could be, and exactly how he could deal with said bratty behaviour a shiver ran down his spine, he sucked through his teeth as his cock twitched at the thought his mind racing to other tempting scenarios of you and him, shaking his head he had to snap himself out of it. The door opened and you were both called in. He watched wide eyed as you rose your demeanor changed completely, gone was a fun loving motherly young woman and there stood a less than impressed mama bear under 5ft tall but walked like a giant. He blinked and staggered in behind you thankful that he opted for a longer blazer that helped cover his 'situation' once in the office you set down in front of Mr Koleman the principle a stout balding man that was king of his own little castle and like to let everyone know it.

Mr Koleman looked at you with distaste then smiled shaking hands with Bruce.

"Ah Mr Wayne good to see you again tho I hoped it was on better terms. Miss Cooke I'm glad you could come down today I wasn't sure you'd make it this time." he said condescendingly you smirked putting on your polite 'adult' voice.

"well I've been trying to get an appointment with you about these issues that I'm sure your fully aware of, however you seem fully booked so I'm glad I finally have the opportunity to straighten a few thing out" he grimaced as he took a seat behind the desk.

" Yes well I am a very busy man." he said

"Yes I noticed that when the receptionist mistook me for a personal visitor." you hear Bruce cough covering a laugh as the principle opened and closed his mouth speechless.

"Any way what was it you wanted to discuss Mr Koleman?" he scowled not used to being shut down by a young women. He leaned forward shuffling papers

"yes well we've been having problems with Jack for a few months as your aware-"

"Yes I'm aware that he is being targeted by his teacher and bullied by other students in the class which is being over looked and in some instances encouraged by the staff at this school. but go on." you interupted him staring at him unblinkingly Bruce gapped before collecting himself sitting back to watch the show the distinct feeling that you were going to rip this man a new arsehole.

"Uh-oh i was not aware of that"

"do not lie to me" you growled 'and here we go' Bruce thought he'd been with enough women to know that all hell was going to break loose as the quiet sweetheart form out side became a little spitfire in the office and couldn't help the a quick fantasy of you being this fiesty for him in his office. You pulled out a small red diary from your bag turning to dates in it.

"On the 4th of March I phoned the school and spoke to a Mrs Hatt to discuss cases of bullying she said that it was being taken care of and that I had no reason to worry. March the 12th Jack came home with bruises on his back caused by the same students they had tied knots in there ties and whiped him with them while getting changed for p.e, I had raised concerns about it nothing was done. I phoned again and once again was fobbed off by Mrs Hatt that there was nothing happening, then Jack comemhome with a sprained wrist, then it was bruised stomach, then a cut forhead and a brokennfinger from them smashing it in a door etcetera these incidents continued and I continued to report them and it was always the same names that popped up, the same three boys. I'd had enough on May 21st I phoned and asked to speak to you instead I got through to a Mrs Hamsten? the vice principle?" you watched as his face became paler and paler as you spoke he nodded. Bruced leant back eyes blown finding himself getting hotter as he watched you tear down the man infront of you.

"Yes and she said that the boys had been put into detention for it which turned out to be a lie another student confirmed that nothing had been done. I then put my issue in writing, I wrote a letter sent by recorded post to you about the issue and received a reply, sighed by you, that you have a no tolorence policy and would look into it, nothing has been done and now you have the audacity to call me up and have me come in here because he finally had enough and stuck up for himself because this little shit split his face open on a desk whilst the teacher watched? tell me Mr Koleman do you still want to pretend you dont know what I'm talking about because I've recored all the calls I've made about this." you tore into him as he shrunk further and further into his seat not prepared for you to come at him so direct. Bruce didnt know what the fuck happened to the sweet little thing he saw outside but what he did know was that was one of the sexist things he'd seen as you asserted yourself beautifully not giving the man time to respond. If it wasn't for Mr Koleman sitting behind the desk he'd already have you spread out on it underneath him. 'Another time'he thought to himself he licked his lips tugging at his trousers again trying to ease the ache in his cock as it strained against its confines.

"Ah yes well, now that I think about it I do remeber a letter" he stumbled over his words you nodded your head

"Yes I'm sure you do. Today was the inevitale blow up." He collected himself looking at Bruce for some sort of back up instead the billionaire scowled at him.

"Be that as it may there is no excuse for calling a teacher a drunk fat bitch." you nodded

"I agree how ever it was for science. Your member of staff who has neglected her duty to keeping my brother safe on school grounds ,has brushed off his bullying useing 'stick and stones' so he decied to test that theory by calling her a drunk fat bitch, turns out names do hurt and caused her to become agitated that she allowed him to have his face smashed into a desk by another student cutting open his eyebrow, cheek and bloody his nose. I dont think she should be able to teach if she cant practice what she preaches and certainly shouldnt be left incharge of children if she is that unstable that she would allow an attack to happen because her feeling were hurt."

"yes well he dragged Mr Waynes son into this-"

"Damien and Jack are friends Damien saw Kyle attack Jack and defended him which is more I can say for the staff at this school. I'm warning you Mr Koleman sort it out before I go to the press. How do you think that would look? when your school board find out that Mr Wanyes son was injured defending his friend when the teacher didn't lift a fucking finger. You wanna go there? cos I fucking will I've had enough." he sat up straighter alarmed, Bruce moaned deep in his chest but watching you was really doing it for him he didnt know why or care in all honesty he just wanted more of you.

"No, no theres no need for that. We can sort this out between us no need for the governors or press. Mr Wayne is there anything you'd like to add." he said trying hard to wrap up this meeting. You looked at Bruce who frankly you forgot was even there he shook his head looking strange, shifting in his chair uncomfortably.

"I think Miss Cooke summed everything up wounderfully, and she has my full support sort out these kids, I know that they have been causing Damien problems name calling getting him in trouble such and he has said the teacher dosn't do anything about it. I wont stand for it any more , if its not sorted out by the end of the week I will bring Miss Cooke with me and we will speak to the school bored in person." You let out a breath you didnt know you was holding relief flooded you as he said this slightly worried that he'd throw you under the bus. He locked eyes with you his pupils were blown wide and he was breathing heavy he winked subtly, you flushed looking back to the man behind the desk as he cleared his throat.

"Right well I will see to it personally and it will be sorted by the end of the week, you both seem to have concerns with Jack and Damien's teacher so as of tomorrow I will have them moved into another class whilst I investigate. I will phone you both up to check in with the boys I'm terribly sorry that it has been left this long." he stood motioning for you both to do the same ending with.

"The boys can leave early today while I deal with this." Bruce opened the door letting you through growling as the principle made a point to oogle your ass as you left, quickly standing between you blocking his veiw of you he glared at the fat prick his message was clear. That hot little spitfire is mine so back off. He stared down at him chest puffed out standing taller and broarder intimidating the little weasel until he looked away. Bruce smirked then left the office slamming the door behind him finding you explaining to the boys what was happening, joining you as they stood up getting there bags .

"you boys go out and wait by the car while we sign out at the front." Bruce instructed they nodded running ahead to the school enterance.

"The car?" you asked looked up at him shyly

"Yes i will give you both a lift" he said leaving no room for argument. You thanked him then spoke quietly looking down trying not to freak out as he stood closer then you thought was neccasary.

"Thank you for sticking up for me in there, I dont usually get like that but you know I get a bit protective." he chuckled at you showing off a brilliant smile

"Its no problem, to be honest I found the whole mama bear thing very sexy your lucky we we'rnt alone" he said winking you blushed

"Wh-what? sh-shut up" you squeeked out he shook his head at you as he put an arm out over you holding the doors to main reception you thanked him queitly skipping through feeling small catching yourself breathing deeper to smell more of his fresh scented cologne.

"No I'm serious any where else and well" he wiggled his brows at you making you giggle

"and the way you are with damien?ive never seen him like that" he asked trailing off

"Yes well he is a sweet kid, he comes over quiet a bit as you know Alfred drops him off and the boys go off doing their thing, just sort of started to mother him a bit sorry" he smirked at you

"Well if I'd known how stunning you were it'd be me dropping him off. And dont apologize I'm not mad just a bit jealous. Tho not for long" he said handing his pass to the snooty receptionist who gave him bedroom eyes before glaring at you for keeping his attention.

"J-jealous? of Damien why?" you stuttered then bit your lip blushing. He groaned the site of it as he throbbed agin nearly cumming as his cock rubbed harshly agains the soft cotton of his boxers, he just couldnt control it. oh he was definatly gonna have you for himself, somehow you turned him into a horny teenager all over again.

"Well he got to have all your attention earlier, hurts a mans pride when his son can capture a beautiful woman's attention and he cant." you looked away from him giving your pass to the secatary who snatched it with a snarl.

"Im hoping you'd show some mercy and come out for lunch with me?" you gasped snapping your gaze at him.

"Wh-what you mean to talk about the school?"

"No as in a date" he explained you froze feeling butterflies in your tummy looking at the gorgeous man.

"Date? now? like right now?" he nodded smirking thoroughly enjoying you being so flustered.

"yes now I dont have anything else planned for today." you gulped when he gave you a heated look you felt like a meal taking a step back

" I'd love to but I have to clean up Jack and-." you began your excuse only for him to cut you short.

"Nonsense he can come to the manor and spend the day with Damien, Alfred is a good nurse he will patch them up." you blinked trying to think of another reason as he stood staring you down at you waiting to for to decide feeling like a deer in the head lights you realized this alpha of a man wasn't going to give you much of a choice.

"O-ok if your sure alfred wouldn't mind watching him." you nodded shyly Bruce gave a triumphant smirk and threw an arm across your shoulders tucking you against him walking to the main doors.

"Alfred wont mind watching the boys." you both walked outside to the boys Damien sighed at his dad before Jack spoke up.

"Told you he was looking at her ass"

"JACK! He was not!" you screeched at him damien laughed and bruce unlocked the range rover

"I thought I was being subtle about it" you gaped at him speechless as he opened the passenger door the boys gagged getting in the back. You got in the car pouting to yourselfand Bruce climbed in.

"Fucking hell I've never seen her speechless, how'd you do that?" Jack said Damien scoffed

"Dad just keep your boner in your pants until were out of the way."

"Yer shes my sister dont need to see her sucking face." You blushed trying to shush the boys

"DAMIEN! He does not have a boner!"

"Uh yer he does look."You tired not to look you really did but it just sort of happend you squeeked covering your mouth faceing forward and jumped as bruce leant over buckling your seat belt whispering in your ear.

"I did tell you the mama bear was sexy" puljng away he spoke to the boys

"Dont worry boys, we will behave until your out of ear shot" You gapped as they cringed with cries of 'ew dad no' and 'come on thats my sister' he laughed at them patting your thigh before pulling out of the school

"So you asked her on a date yet Dad?" Bruce raised and eye brom looking at him in the rear view mirror pulling out onto the main road.

"Well we are dropping you both off at the manor does that answer your question?"

Jack groaned not sure if he likes the idea of his sister dating his best friends dad.

"dont you hurt her Mr Wayne I know where you live" you smiled at that finding it cute him trying to be the protective little man. The drive was quiet for a while before jack piped up.

"Holy shit if they get married I'd be your uncle" you groaned holding you face in your hands bruce only laughed

"Jack its one lunch date jesus"

".....Can I walk you down the isle?"

"JACK?!"

"What she means is well cross that bridge when we come to it" you stared at Bruce as he smirked enjoying teasing you the boys snickered in the back. You sat back wondering just what you'd gotten youself into.

[buckybarnesbingo]

Titles Game

Tonight I'm Going Back to My Old Ways - suggested by @steverogersnotebook

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky didn’t usually go for straight guys. Not since Brock in college, anyway. But tonight, all he could see was the blond across the bar. He was laughing with his friends, and he was gorgeous. Muscles for days, a body Bucky wanted to climb like a tree, and a wonderful smile that was a combination of Hallmark wholesome and downright dirty that shouldn’t have worked, but did. The piercing blue eyes just sealed the deal: Bucky was going to get him in his bed. (there would definitely be a tag in there about how they need to communicate and how Steve's not straight)

@wolfnprey - Bucky had settled down after he started a family. Everything told him he didn't deserve happiness, but he was beyond listening. Until some old ghosts showed up. Literal ghosts, and they were hellbent on making sure Bucky's life was upended. He'd buried the necronamicon in the basement ten years ago, but now he was digging it up with the help of his old partner. If only Steve was forgiving.

@steverogersnotebook - (Early recovering Bucky) finds it hard to come to terms with the modern Brooklyn, seeks out night clubs and smokes like a chimney in an effort to feel the way he remembers feeling.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Their relationship had been strained in a way that Bucky was pretty sure couple's therapy couldn't fix. Not that he had tried. He wasn't about to unload all of his trauma concerning not being his old self anymore on some poor middle-aged Brooklynite mother of three even if she did have a degree that supposedly helped. There was no way she was prepared to help a brainwashed assassin with a fault list from Coney Island to hell and back again. So instead he'd unloaded all of that on Natasha. As a best friend, she was legally obligated to listen to him anyway. And besides, she was cheaper; she could be bought with a whine and a wine. However, talking to Natasha also meant he got the cold, hard truth that his relationship was suffering not because he'd forgotten who he was and became a brainwashed assassin for decades, but because he'd forgotten who Steve was and hadn't spent a lot of time figuring it out again. So per his therapist's (Natasha's, whatever) advice, Bucky's getting back to his roots and rebecoming the man who knew everything about Steve Rogers and hoping that maybe somewhere along the line, he can figure out what it was that made the two of them work so perfectly together.

More under the cut!

Down the rabbit hole - suggested by @liquidlightz

@phoenixgryphon - MCU Nat going down the rabbit hole that is pre Cap2 TWS information

@steverogersnotebook - An edgy Alice AU where bucky meets the OUAT version of the mad hatter.

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was constantly seeing the same figure out of the corner of his eye. A tall, muscular blonde, who seemed as though he wasn’t quite there, which was why Bucky was sure he was imagining the man, or confusing multiple tall muscular blonds. They weren’t as uncommon as one would think, and Bucky was so tired, so he decided not to worry about the blond. Until the day he literally fell down a rabbit hole - in Brooklyn, of all places - and ended up in another version of New York.

@wolfnprey -  Stripper AU. Nat drags Bucky to Down the Rabbit Hole for a particular stripper named Alice who is a beefy blond with bright blue eyes.

@bookdragon13 - Or alternatively: Steve goes to Storybrooke during his quest to find Bucky and meets Jefferson. Steve immediately goes “Bucky?” And Jefferson, in his sassy way, says “who the hell is Bucky?” But proceeds to use his hat to help Steve find his Bucky, if only to meet his lookalike Whether or not this becomes angsty, I’m not sure

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky In the 21st Century:  After spending too much time on the internet trying to figure out what some of the things he’d been hearing about really were, Bucky wishes he’d trusted Tony when he said, “Snowflake, there’s whole swaths of the interwebs you don’t want to know.  Trust me, please?”  Now, six and a half hours later, he knew that there was Avengers fan fiction (and what that consisted of) and Avengers cosplay porn.  He wasn’t sure what to do with this information.  But maybe he just needed to do some more research. After a snack.

@liquidlightz - Alpine was very protective.  Bucky loved gardening and he'd planted many different flowers, but there was a fat rabbit that kept popping by and eating all the best tulips, daylilies, you name it.  Bucky was hesitant to harm the creature, but Alpine was having no more of it.  She chased said rabbit down its hole and Bucky had to dig her back out.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Bucky’s family owned a farm so he'd had a plethora of pets his entire life, but when he'd moved to the big city, Bucky had stuffed Top Hat the white rabbit in her carrier and told her they were headed for the adventure of a lifetime, no looking back. And truth be told, sometimes New York was lonely. But the other truth was he didn't miss Indiana at all. He loved New York, but he'd never regretted his move more than the day he came home to discover Top Hat not in her enclosure. He had to go door to door on the entire floor and maybe the floor above and below his. Everyone had to help find his missing long-eared, fluffy-tailed best friend. Cue everyone in Bucky's apartment complex searching the entire building for one white rabbit trying to pull her own disappearing act. And cue Bucky searching for a rabbit, but finding maybe a little more along the way.

You pull hope from defeat in the night - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@steverogersnotebook - After a terrible loss on a mission, Bucky and [strained relationship/preferred pairing] are nearly wiped out themselves. One has to get out and get help for the other before it's too late for them too. In dragging the injured party to safety, promises made in supplication reignite hope for a resolution.

@somesortofitalianroast - (pre-serum!steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky) After exhausting missions, there’s nothing Steve likes better than hooking up with a guy at a bar, preferably one who would believe him when he said he wouldn’t break. Tonight, he chose the guy carefully, a big, beefy brunet with thighs for days and something about him that made him look gentle. One night turned into another. And another. And another…. Who said hookups couldn’t lead to love?

@bookdragon13 - Just when Bucky was feeling his lowest, walking around Brooklyn at night, he hears a faint meowing. Bucky finds the white kitten and takes it to the local vet. Afterwards, he couldn’t just leave the white fur ball behind, adopting her and giving her the name Alpine. With Alpine around, Bucky couldn’t help but start feeling like he could climb out of the hole he’d dug himself in. He can’t help but laugh at Alpine’s antics and when he’s having a bad day, she cuddles with Bucky as he rubs his fingers through her fur

@liquidlightz - Bucky had written off more cheques than his body could cash, yet again.  Losing badly at poker and getting beaten down for failing to pay up.  This night was turning out better than the last, as he found himself in the hands of a gorgeous Doctor with gentle hands who seemed to enjoy his attempts at flirting through bloodied teeth.  Things might be looking up, he was going to go all in and take another chance tonight.

@wolfarrowepz - (Winterhawk, hockey AU)The Avengers were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.... less than a third of the team had been with them when they won the championship 3 years ago. Now all Bucky wants to do is go home and sulk and ice his knee in peace. Clint has decided he needs to come to dinner with the team to show all the rookies and new guys to show them that losing isn't the end of the world. Fuck it all if Bucky will do whatever Clint asks. Bucky he liked him since they joined the team together as rookies. Clint is 100% oblivious to every move Bucky makes but if Clint asks him to do something he will. Clint on the other hand is convinced Bucky isn't into him. Cue pining and the inevitable "of course I Like you, you dope!" moment.

With Steel and Silver Burning Heart - suggested by @ibelieveinturtles

@steverogersnotebook - Dragon trainer AU, Steve goes to slay the dragon, Bucky's the dragon trainer. They meet, they clash, they enemies to friends to lovers.

@phoenixgryphon - big beefy bucky the blacksmith.  who builds broadswords to bring in the bills

@somesortofitalianroast - (Regency!AU) James Barnes was well aware that he was the Marquis of Buchannan in name only. With no money left in the estates coiffers and three younger sisters - the oldest a mere year before her official debut - to support, he was desperate. Desperate enough to approach the new Duke of Brooklyn - a known rake with a history of getting in duels - with an offer: he supplies the cash for Rebecca’s debutante and in return, he gets James. But what happens when the purely financial relationship is no longer purely financial?

@liquidlightz - Bucky was not amused when the blade pierced his heart.  Fuck, that hurt! "You asshole", he berated his not-looking-so-hot-now date on the other end of that dagger, "I thought we were having a good time." Bucky had to thank his lucky stars, and not his wits, that this hunter was a moron and that blade was cheap metal and not silver.  He should, maybe, start being a little more discerning in his hookups.

@bookdragon13 - As a Knight of the Realm, Bucky was sworn to protect the royal family. He didn’t mean to fall in love with the Princess in the process. Neither did Bucky realize he was a jealous man, until he saw another knight, Brock, try to kiss the Princess, with her unwilling. Bucky immediately called Brock out, challenging him to a duel. When Brock was wounded, Bucky threatened that if Brock tried anything with Her Royal Highness again, he wouldn’t be so lenient.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

You messed with my heart too long

A/N: I posted this anonymously on ao3, but I’m really proud of writing this so decided to post it on here as well. Please, please let me know what you think, it would mean the world to me. 

Summary: When Richie accidentally burns his food right at the same time as Eddie arrives home, he fears he's in for a verbal beat down. He's used to that thank to his ex-boyfriend, who mentally and emotionally abused him before Richie realized what he was doing to him. Once Eddie works out what is happening, he is quick to assure Richie he would never treat him in the same manner.

Warnings!: mental abuse, mentions of physical abuse and Bev’s abusive ex, Richie thinks Eddie going to react badly (he doesn’t but he still thinks about it) 

read on AO3

Richie, in all fairness, has never had any confidence in any way, shape or form. He’s not sure why that is. His mom and dad were good, loving parents that indulged into his secret little hobby’s, and when Richie at age 24, a fresh college drop-out, told his parents he was going to take a gamble and try to make it as a comedian, they supported him wholeheartedly. Of course, they were a little disappointed that he never got a degree in case things in the comedy field didn’t work out, but they were convinced of Richie’s talent. They were truly the best parents anyone could ever wish for, at least in Richie’s mind.

The losers were also nothing if not supportive towards him, though they had been long gone before Richie turned 24. They made fun of him sometimes, on the occasions where a joke ran too far or failed miserably, but they also made sure that Richie knew how much they adored him in reality.

Beside from getting scolded at every now and again by Eddie or Stan, about his hygiene or lack of self-awareness, they also never tried to change him to fit their wants. For some unknown, nonsensical reason, they liked Richie with his flaws and all.

Truly, Richie has no inkling as to where his insecurities came from, but he does know that he never let them stop him from doing anything when he was still friends with the losers. Quite the opposite even, if he got nervous about performing in front of his class, he would loudly ask to go first, laughing boisterously and slouching against the teachers desks, pretending like the activity wasn’t even a blip on his radar. When Henry’s taunt would hit a particular soft spot, and Richie felt the urge to sulk or mope, he’d double down on the thing Henry found annoying, and get a bloody nose for his troubles.

He fought hard to be ready to perform in front of people that weren’t the losers or his parents, and the losers departing from Derry just made that worse. With the losers, he felt confident enough to try and be himself, without them, he saw himself as useless in every sense. His very first live performance sucked, and in retrospect he’s really glad none of the losers were present because within five minutes of walking on the stage, he had forgotten his lines and threw up in full sight of the audience.

If his mother hadn’t persuaded him into trying again a few months later, and that one actually working out, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier would have been buried before it began.

But that was before all the progress Richie made in all the years he’s been doing comedy. Despite having the occasional setback, he mostly outgrew throwing up before an act, and he could objectively look at himself in the mirror and conclude that he wasn’t the most hideous person the world had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

In fact, according to people on his twitter page, he was being described as hot and possessing a form of appeal that drew people in. He didn’t find himself good looking by any means, but there was a huge difference between hating everything about himself, and accepting that he was not as hideous as the beast from the Disney fairy tales he was a big fan of as a kid.

And then, in the prime of his mental health, he had met David, and every ounce of self-worth faltered like snow under the burning scorch of the sun. It only took five weeks for David to absolutely destroy the very thing Richie had toiled at for over twenty years.

David was his first boyfriend, who he met just shortly before his thirtieth birthday, and he took more than advantage of that. The first night they first laid eyes on each other, after one of Richie’s shows, David had walked up to him at a bar and promptly declared his show was absolute shit.

Normally Richie would feel hurt by these comments and would pretend to brush them off as if they were never uttered, but something about the way he said it caused Richie to laugh so hard he snorted part of his beer through his nose. It wasn’t until he saw Eddie with Bill and Mike at Jade the Orient ten years later, that his quarter fell. In the beginning, David had reminded him of Eddie. It wasn’t until much later that it became clear David’s intentions were not as innocents as Eddie’s.

Richie assumed the guy was pulling his pants, because who would dedicate their time to flat out insult someone they had never met, and so he had greeted him and bought him another beer. David wasn’t particularly funny, and he never laughed at Richie’s jokes throughout the night either, but he was very eloquent and could keep up with Richie’s conversation topics, though he always seemed to be able to turn and twist the subject so that it gave away another one of his qualities.

By the end of the night Richie never expected to hear from him again, and he was okay with that. His conversation partner had been interesting, but not to the point where Richie wanted to know everything about him or see him again.

David felt otherwise, as thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, he’d found Richie’s number, and when he texted him to ask him on a date, Richie had been too thrilled that someone was interested in him to containplat if he even wanted to go.

That same day the date took place, David had granted himself the title of boyfriend, and Richie went right along with him. They never officially verbally agreed to date, but they held hands and David slept over most nights then not, and his mother got so happy that she saw him with someone that things progressed naturally.

At first, Richie didn’t notice that David was influencing him in a negative way. He only had one close friend, Steve, who was simultaneously also his manager, and he constantly praised David for making Richie a changed man. Because Steve saw it as something positive, so did Richie.

His voice got progressively stiller, as David would ream at him multiple times a day that he was annoying everyone around them with his booming voice, and that he was an attention-seeker who would do anything to get the limelight on him. Richie practiced his voices less and less when David started to critic every aspect of them every time he would overhear him. It got worse once they started living together full time.

‘Hey Rich, no voices? Come on I want to know if you’ve improved over the years, let us hear it.’

He cut off all fatty foods when David glanced at his plate and grimaced, asking if he was really going to eat everything on the plate. He didn’t say it in so many words, but Richie could connect the dots that led him to believe David found him too fat. Lying became a sort of second nature to Richie, as he dared to eat a small pack of chips when David was away, and deluded him the next day by stating he hadn’t eaten any. Sometimes, at times where David thought Richie was away, he would observe him going through their trash to catch Richie in the lie. He’d fight tooth and nail to deny the accusation, and never admitted to it.

David complained just about everything Richie did, including the way he held his towel whilst drying the dishes, ‘For god sake Richie don’t rumple up, hold it in your palm and open it up so you can get to the surface more.’ When Richie tried to joke that David’s way didn’t necessarily mean the best way, he’d yelled that Richie was an ungrateful bastard and that if he had to do it his way because the way he was doing it was useless.

Useless, that was a word Richie learned to associate with himself as whatever he did would get dragged down by David, until there was barely any Richie left. Once again Richie began getting stage fright, worse than when he was a child, and on one evening David witnessed his total bomb of a show, and told Richie he had pretended he didn’t know him to the people watching. That hit so hard, the fact that someone was disgusted to be linked to him, that he stopped writing his own comedy and hired someone to do it for him.

There was so much negativity surrounding him and David, but when Richie tried to address his problems, David would make him seem like he was the one that was crazy. Like he was seeing things that were not there. David rolled his eyes and waved off any of Richie’s attempts to defend himself, but then denied doing it after the fact.

‘You’re a loser Richie, I can’t believe you’d be so stupid to take my ribs seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be a ‘comedian’? You’d think you’d know what’s a joke and what isn’t.’

A can of coke being set down too hard on their dinner table was enough to get David off of the couch, where he’d been watching football and ordering him around, and into the kitchen, striking a tirade that Richie was ruining their furniture with his fumbling. Richie was constantly on edge that he was doing something wrong - and he was according to David -. He avoided David as much as he could, but the latter would find something to fault him on regardless. Life had transformed into a prison cell.

Later Richie would scold himself for not leaving, but how could he? David manipulated him to the point Richie truly believed he was doing all of those things wrong, to the point where he was the one crying and begging for David’s forgiveness. He was gaslighted, manipulated and blackmailed at the same time, with gifts that weren’t a one-off after Dacid crossed a line too far, and they often contained a very expensive item that Richie had eagerly awaited for a long time. Richie felt like he owed it to David to stay, if only for all the money he had spent on him.

There were days Richie would get so furious he was prepared to scream back at David, to let his anger be set free and unleashed upon the one person who deserved it, but then David would show up with a gift out of the blue, or would grant him a loving caress, and Richie was gone for him again.

Not to mention that Richie’s self-esteem had sunk so low, he wasn’t ready to face a world without having David there to guide him along with things.

Barely five months before Mike’s earth shattering phone call, Richie ran out of all mental capacity to deal with the torment a moment longer, and packed his things, disappearing on a cold blistering night. David called him, of course, but Richie was a coward, and never answered the phone.

He only sent David one text to tell him it was over, and then promptly blocked his number without waiting for a response. He heard from gossip that David spread lies about him, and told other people about how much of a terrible boyfriend he had been, but Richie never objected to the claims. He agreed with him anyway.

Mike’s call had been, for a large proportion anyway, a saving grace. Reconnecting with his best friends and destroying the thing that loomed over him for so long was liberating, and Richie viciously wished that Pennywise had come back sooner, so that his tortures road would have been that much shorter.

There was no lingering bitterness inside of Richie because of this though, not when his life was finally in the best possible place it could be. Eddie and him got their heads out of their asses, or more like Eddie got out of his and decided to yet again be the brave one out of the two of them, and they started dating almost immediately after defeating Pennywise. In only a week's time, Eddie made the move from New York to Los Angeles, and with him he had brought the happiness Richie had long forgotten he could ever possess.

His marriage with Myra had been just as much a scam as the relationship between Richie and David, and his divorce was swift - no surprise there with the way Eddie always prepared for every possible scenario-, but Eddie almost always avoided talking about it. In a way, Richie was disheartened by that.

It was no secret Eddie married a woman that was basically a mirror image of his mom, and at times Richie caught himself wondering if Eddie had realized how smothering she was or if he had been so hunkering for the normality of life as a straight, married man that he never paid her enough attention too. He wonders if he was the only one stupid enough to not realize the gravity of what was happening to him.

Richie has debated on flat out asking Eddie about it, but, and there’s always a but, that would mean he would have to tell Eddie about David, and he is overcome with a rare form of anxiety, something deeply ashamed nestling in the place where his trust is supposed to be at the mere idea.

Swearing on the holy turtle god that managed to save them from Pennywise’s claws, Richie was originally planning on confessing the whole thing to Eddie on day one of their relationship. He truly was, and he had even conjured up humorous escape alternatives to duck his way under a fire load of questions Eddie was surely about to ask him after.

He even prepared himself to tell Eddie in Derry, right after overhearing Eddie’s phone call to his wife, feeling empowered that Eddie would come to understand. Bev interrupted before he could, perhaps a blessing in disguise. Before Eddie fully put down his phone, Bev had sweeped in the room, requesting a meeting downstairs to talk. Richie had been helpless to follow and listen intently, and if he was being honest with himself – he wasn’t – he felt a tiny bit of relief that he wouldn’t be subjected to any negative attention. Until Bev started to confess how her life had been before Mike called them.

All at once, a sickening hatred from himself overwhelmed Richie. He was so angry that he had dared to feel sorry about himself, and here Bev was, with a situation that was incomparably worse. The more details Bev entrusted them with – Richie may have promised to never kill anyone again, but he an exception could be made - the more Richie’s food from a few hours before threatened to choke him, and not even Eddie’s cream smoothed hand holding his distracted him.

Near the end, after they’d progressed from such an melancholically topic and began drinking away the booze in their hotel, Richie had drawn Bev’s attention with a call of her name, to either make her smile or to assure her that she wasn’t alone, Stan send him a withering look, as if to warn him not to open his mouth. Stan’s assumption was fair, it was in Richie’s nature to find humor in places there shouldn’t be, and he had no idea about Richie’s past to think otherwise. Still, every time Richie considered telling Eddie, the look flashed in his mind and sewed his mouth shut.

Not telling Eddie hasn’t impacted things the way Richie had predicted it would. Really, Richie was doing fine. Eddie chastised Richie on certain things, but Richie didn’t freak out or experience any sort of flashback. He would be given a peck on his forehead, or a hand running through his hair, and he’d know that Eddie was never mad at him. It was the littlest details that had Richie out of his mind with love, that highlighted just how different Eddie and David were.

By now, Richie had decided he was fine with not telling Eddie anything about David, and the extra weight of keeping something a secret was his boyfriend was just another fee to carry around with him. But life always throws a curveball Richie Tozier’s way when he has finally made plans.

This curve ball comes in the form of soup. A horrendous chicken soup that Eddie cooked up two days in advance, an experiment of different herbs that clashed into a symphony of flavors all competing to be the primary flavor. There are two things to know about Eddie as a cook. Number one is that he is not an impressive cook – and it’s not for the lack of trying - but Richie doesn’t mind. Eating food that doesn’t please his taste buds but getting Eddie in return for it is a fair deal in Richie’s books.

The second thing to note is that Eddie is a lazy cook. He turns the kitchen into a battlefield of different sauces, with jars a million different pots and pans skewed across the stove and no more room to place anything else left. It’s gotten to the point that whenever Eddie is in charge of cooking, they will not even put their dinner on a plate anymore, but instead leave it in whatever it’s made in, because it eliminates dishes to wash. That’s what starts the mess that day in first place.

Richie isn’t an idiot. Yes, he can be dense at times, and when it comes to loving Eddie he’s more than a bit moronic, but he’s not stupid. He’s had to survive on his own – and with someone who didn’t lift a finger - for a long time, thus there was no other way. He’s aware of the danger of putting a metal bowl in the microwave, and how it can cause the metal to heat up and start a fire, and therefor has never been stupid enough to try it. But today, Richie is stressed.

Steve has been calling him all day to try and persuade him into doing an interview for a magazine, and no matter how many times, how loud or agitated Richie says no, Steve still insists. Richie paces annoyed towards his fridge phone locked between his shoulder and ear, so he can take out the metal bowl of soup with his hands, and place it in their microwave without a second thought.

‘Steve I don’t care how much publicity you think it will get me, I don’t want to do it,’ Richie mutters, turning around with his back towards the warming soup. The consistent arguing with Steve has his teeth grinding, his shoulders tense and his anxiety sparked.

Eddie is still out for work, but it’s closing at five pm, the time he ensures he’s at home, and Richie thinks he can hear his car driving up into the gravel parking lot. The absence of his boyfriend is about to be filled, and Steve is yapping away in his ear, not content to admit defeat just yet, it’s maddening.

‘Steve… Steve listen to me, don’t get your panties up in a twist, I have to go. Don’t book the interview. I won’t take any part in it.’ His denial doesn’t put a stop to Steve’s yapping, but at that point Richie is over his nagging. He pinches the bridge of his nose and utters; ’Okay nice chat’, and hangs up without waiting for a response back.

He lets the phone clatter on top of their kitchen surface and says that Steve got the message, if only for the rest of the day. His phone doesn’t vibrate again, leading Richie to assume he has won this round. He can’t help but lean forward so far his head rests against the cold tiles of the kitchen counter, just sighing for one long, extended breath. A night in on the couch with Eddie spooning him has never allured him so much. His back cracks with a satisfying pop as he readjusts his body, and he groans in gratifications.

Their alarm dings loudly in the open concept kitchen, a warning that someone has just entered their driveway. Richie doesn’t need to go look to know that it’s Eddie and his large, black suv, but he wants to anyway. He’s about to walk towards the front door to greet Eddie like he’s a pet that has been waiting anxiously for its owners return – and some would describe him in the same manner - when the air fills with smoke and a rancid smell. It’s barely detectable at first, nothing more but an insentient odor that is unpleasant but not resolute and easy to ignore. But then actual smoke begins to wash it’s way around Richie, and he has a split second of blissful unknowingness left, until the problem dawns on him.

Richie follows the smoke trail, and is shocked to find their microwave steaming and actually crackling, like it’s on the verge of exploding. It probably is. Still, it’s nothing compared to the cluster bomb of fumes that spread throughout the room when Richie actually opens the microwave door and gets slapped in the face with the enormity. It’s a surprise that their smoke detector has yet to erupt.

Instantly, his airways fill up smoke, prickling his cough reflection so tremendously he doubles over in extortion. The coughs rattle his body in a painful manner, his chest and back start to hurt from the brutal movements and the fact that he can’t grasp fresh air no matter how wide he opens his mouth. Objectively, Richie should understand it can get a lot worse - their smoke detector hasn’t gone off, and there are no flames to accompany the smoke and therefore turn their house into a major safety hazard - but a panic he hasn’t felt since David has shut down his logical thinking skills.

A key is slotted into their keyhole, and it turns a first time to leave. Eddie is about to open the door, in give or take in about a minute – it always drags out because despite living here for give or take two years, Eddie still can’t remember this lock unlatches via the left side and not the right – and walk in on an absolute shit show that Richie’s engendered.

So far there was indication, no sign that hinted to Richie he still had leftover, undealt trauma left from his time hanging around David, but now, his only thought revolving around how mad Eddie is going to be, how much trouble he’ll be in once Eddie sees everything, he starting to realize he might not be as over things as he originally believed.

He ignores the way his lung burn, and reaches forward to grab the pot – with fogged over glasses rendering him blind - protection less, not even grabbing the oven mitts to provide some shelter for the warmth. He can’t comprehend how dangerous that is, can only focus on the red lights blaring in his mind, telling him he needs to get rid of the evidence before Eddie gets here and unleashes hell upon him.

Unfortunately, he’s too late. A door unlocks and Eddie enters the house. His feet pad on their wooden floor, brazen and fast, like he’s been waiting for a shot at grilling Richie and he can sense his opportunity to do so has arrived – the motion is so un-Eddie Richie dismissed it as absurd then and there, but a seed of doubt remains -.

With time, Richie comes to learn how to listen to the different footsteps, and he can now recognize who’s walking towards him and in what kind of mood they find themselves in, without taking one look at the person's face.

Eddie’s footsteps, after every work day, drag across their floor, as if a thousand pound weight has been added to his back. The bottom of his shoes wear out a lot faster than Richie’s do, and it drives Eddie nuts because out of the two of them, he’s the one that treats his material objects neater than Richie.

Richie’s always delighted to notice how light his footsteps get after just a few minutes spent with him or the losers.

Now, he is too scared to pick up on such little details. His palms tingle unpleasantly, the boiling liquid burning them more with each second he hangs on. He stands in the middle of their kitchen like a fool, turning his body every which way and letting his eyes dart out an escape plan. The smoke is nowhere near gone, and there’s too much of it for Richie to open a window and it to be blown away. Eddie’s going to notice, there’s no way he can’t.

‘Richie, you won’t believe what this imbecile Josh did at work today. I swear, I don’t understand how some people can get fucking hired sometimes.’

Eddie trudges into the kitchen, his suit wrinkled from a long day of frantically working on a report that should have been finished by some other incompetent coworker. The groves in his face are more prominent today, acquired by the years of unhappiness he experienced with Myra, the ages of his life cut off by the shock of Pennywise's return and the occasional busy work day his job supplies him with.

A nausea craters in Richie's stomach, filled with guilt for turning Eddie’s night off into a stressful event that requires a ton of clean up. Eddie stops dead in his tracks when he notices the mess, his mouth slips shut, the word dying on his tongue.

He’s waiting for Eddie’s frown to deepen, for his lips to cresting into a fury. He’s waiting for the waterfall of insults that will be hurled at his head, each one meaner than the last, honing in on his deepest insecurities and having them exploited because Eddie’s so angry he’ll do anything to strike a verbal blow. And it’ll be worse now, because it’s Eddie. It’s the love of his life doing it now, the one’s approval he seeks most.

Eddie’s the person that knows him inside and out and knows exactly what boundaries to push and prod out to crack Richie open from head to toe. He waits for all that, with his hand still clamped around the bowl of burning hot soup, scorching his palms – by this point, Richie is sure there will be blisters by the time he finally unclasps his grip.

Eddie’s frown does deepen, but it’s not out of anger. ‘Rich, be careful you’ll hurt yourself.’ Richie doesn’t let go, but holds onto the sides of the bowl tighter. Part of him wants him to experience the pain, to let what he did sink in like David’s words always did.

‘Richie’, Eddie says startlingly firm. He’s not trying to approach Richie or the bowl, but he’s capturing Richie’s attention just by his firm voice. ‘Put it down.’

Richie drops the bowl of soup, watching helplessly as it splatters all over their freshly painted walls and the ground. Out of the corner of his eye a flat glob of liquid drips down the wall, dirtying a whole line down to the floor. Richie cringes, his heart beating so fast he could swear it’s about to jump out of his chest, and his mind a mantra of ‘look what you did, look what you did, look what you did.’

‘Fuck Richie, did you burn it?’

And Richie knows he’s caught. He was, up to two seconds ago, holding the evidence right in his hands, but he’s so petrified logic is not operating in his brain at the moment. The only thing he can focus on with great clarity, is that he’s willing to try anything to get him out of a verbal tear down.

‘No..’, he tapers off at the end, leaving his statement much more alike a question than he would have preferred. Eddie raises one eyebrow suspiciously, pointily averting his gaze towards the smoke floating around them.

‘No?’ He asks back equally confused, head tilted to the side. Richie can feel his throat closing up in panic, bracing himself for an onslaught. He doesn’t foresee Eddie’s nurturing and concerned approach. ‘Let me take a look at your hands’, Eddie murmurs tenderly.

It’s technically nothing new, the way Eddie treats him. After Neibolt and Richie’s big coming out, Eddie commenced all his vacation days and flew Richie all the way to Hawaii, for the pure intention of getting him away from any and all consequences. He’d allowed Richie to eat what he desired - within reason of course, there was no way Eddie was allowing Richie to eat pizza at 8 am-, waisted their days sitting by the pool and indulged in Richie unchancy pranks - one of which ended up with Eddie scrubbing out blue glitter out of his hair. Eddie had been kind then, so it shouldn’t be surprising he is in this situation.

It doesn’t take away the fear Richie is left with. David had good days too, days that he was the perfect boyfriend, but that would never last long, and Richie is left to speculate if it’ll be the same thing with Eddie.

Maybe it’ll be hidden in a secret message, maybe Eddie is busy hatching a plan that will utterly deploy Richie from the inside out. Eddie’s hands are gently skimming over Richie’s palms, inspecting the damage without irritating the skin even more. ‘It doesn’t seem like it’s bad. It hurts right?’

‘Yeah’, Richie croaks when he figures out the question isn’t rhetorical. He isn’t sure at the moment why that’s supposed to be good.

Eddie tips forward, stretching up higher so he can kiss Richie’s forehead tenderly. Against his skin he explains. ‘That means the burn isn’t too deep, but hold it under the water still.’

‘No but you know what does go deep?’

‘Nothing if you don’t treat your burns,’ Eddie teases with a smirk. He gently ushers Richie closer to their faucet, and holds his own palm under the stream of water, twiddling with the different temperature taps until he finds one that he deems just lukewarm enough to allow Richie’s hand under it.

The smoke in the air remains unspoken about. It’s almost as if Richie is more important than a potential house fire to Eddie, but that’s absurd. Not only because this is the house that both of them felt was the right one, and subsequently paid a lot of money for, but also because Richie isn’t that special. He’s not even trying to be condensing towards himself, because he truly believes that.

‘How did you manage to do this huh? Idiot.’ Eddie jokes while guiding his hand under the water at the correct angle, his salutation gets smoothed over by a hand ruffling his hair. Coincidentally, or perhaps the exact opposite, a part of the stress Richie accumulated falls away when Eddie calls him an idiot. It helps to underline why exactly Eddie will never be like David, why the two aren’t in the same league of each other even.

When Eddie says idiot, it’s a nickname, it’s a middle school jab when Richie runs too fast and trips over his own feet, it’s the symbolic soothing pat on the back he receives after he can get all of the losers to laugh at his humor. It’s their love langue no one understands, It’s Eddie’s way of hiding how deep his adoration goes with a job that’s unusual to others.

David’s condescending tone alone tipped Richie into the deep end, into a cave that echoed his deepest flaws and slammed it into the cavity in his chest every time something didn’t go according to plan. Idiot for David did not mean the same things. For David, idiot was shoving aside Richie’s concerns, it was disinterested in all his quirks and his passive attitude. He meant what he said without sarcasm.

A first tear tracks down Richie’s cheek. ‘Rich?’ Eddie inquires startled. His hand previously stroking Richie’s curls slides towards his elbow in a smooth motion.

Richie tries to tell him it’s okay, that he needs a minute to regroup but that he’s fine, but instead of that he sobs, more tears spilling over with no regards to him uneasy Richie is to cry in front of someone.

‘Richie shit I’m sorry. Does it hurt that bad? Do we need to go to a hospital? We’ll go right now.’

‘No, no hospital,’ Richie waves him off with his injured hands. Eddie leads his hand back without response, tracking his face to see if he gives away anything. Richie had forgotten his hand hurted in the first place, so he definitely didn’t require any treatment beyond what he was doing already. His tears are the result of being overwhelmed by his emotions, and his default response to that is to cry.

‘If you don’t want me to do that, that’s okay you know?’

Because his hand is incapacitated, he wipes his nose on the corner of his shirt, watching as Eddie’s wrinkles his nose at that. Still, even with the disgusting move on Richie’s part, Eddie leans in closer, molding Richie so he fits in the fold between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. There, he resumes his path of caressing Richie’s hair, and kissing his temple. Richie fists one of his hands in the back of Eddie’s shirt, pressing them as intimate as he can.

‘Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. What’s wrong?’

Richie sobs harder, not particularly keen on telling Eddie why he’s this upset. It’s a difficult topic to talk to anyone about, Eddie and the losers included. There were days that Richie twisted his mind to convince himself that it was all in his head. That David was the best boyfriend anyone could ever wish for, and that the tirades he had to endure was just the cost of that. He was afraid he added things in his mind that hadn’t actually taken place and he created his own narrative.

Apprehension held Richie back, dreading what Eddie’s response might be. He could exclaim Richie to be a complainer that should have praised himself lucky to get the abuse he got, or he could say that Richie was a sourpuss, turning a fly into an elephant.

‘Shouldn’t we get rid of the smoke first?’, Richie questions to stall.

‘Later’, Eddie soothes with another kiss to his temple. ‘Talk to me. Please Rich.’

‘There was this guy I used to date, David.’

Eddie’s head shoots up in bewilderment, his brow furrowed. ‘You never told me about him.’

‘Yeah well we never talk about your wife either and I thought that would mean we wouldn’t disclose our previous hang ups.’

‘Ex-wife. Remember Rich? She’s my ex-wife. There’s nobody in the world I would rather be with then with you.’

‘Stop it you bastard,’ Richie sniffles pathetically. ‘You know I can’t deny you anything when you sweet talk me.’

‘That’s the plan.’

Eddie thumbs underneath Richie’s eye socket, brushing in a hypnotic rhythm that ankers him to reality. If Richie nuzzles into Eddie’s palm, then no one else but then needs to know.

Talking about something that brings forth a lot of anxiety goes smoother with closed eyes, Richie’s come to find, so he does that before revealing what he should have revealed a long time ago.

‘He was.. not so kind’, he chuckles humorless. ‘He really thrived when he pointed out everything I did wrong, liked yelling too.’

‘Rich?’

‘Wait let me finish. If I don’t say it now I’ll never get the courage to again.’ He opens his eyes only to see Eddie nod in agreement, and his face starting to tang a bit red.

‘Sometimes I couldn’t even walk right without him being all up in my ass about it. At parties he would gladly tell everyone embarrassing things I did, or he would pretend like he did all the work at home while really he was the one that did nothing. And the way he spoke to me.. like I was a child and he was a teacher or something. And he had this way of saying things so I’d know I was a breath away from being yelled at, but so that he could still claim he never once raised his voice at me. I guess I was scared you were going to do the same thing after seeing what a major fuck up I am. . He kept insisting I didn’t do things good enough, but I was really trying my best. I fucking swear Eds. I can’t help that my best isn’t good enough.’

The repetitive motion that Eddie kept up during his long monologue abruptly ends, and Eddie instead balls his hands up into two fist, pulling away from Richie to lean on the counter. He bounces on his heels, unable to stand still any longer as he is now the one to squeeze his eyes shut.

‘Eddie?’ Richie implores, the panic from before quickly flooding through his bloodstream and entering every part of his body.

Eddie opens his eyes, and something on Richie’s face must give away what he’s experiencing, because he’s quick to assure Richie did nothing wrong. ‘No, shit Richie it’s not you sweetheart. I love you, you did nothing, nothing wrong.’

He pecks Richie on the lips twice, very softly and barely noticeable, almost a goad to get Richie to cram their lips together tighter. For a long moment, they don’t move. Their lips stay hovering just out of reach, and one of Eddie’s palms slide down Richie’s chest down to his belly and up again. It’s an effort for Eddie to try and generate as much love towards Richie as he possibly can, before his resolve breaks and he has to let his resentment for David out in some way.

‘I’m going to kill him.’ Eddie turns away from Richie, but his hand remains on Richie’s stomach, a connection so they don’t separate. His chest puffs up, almost like he’s gearing up to go fight David right now. He would if he got the chance.

‘Spagheddie you don’t have to do that for me. I don’t even own his number anymore.’

‘I don’t care Rich,’ Eddie’s voice trembles but is laced with a deadly amount of venom. ‘He should have never done those things to you. If I ever see him I’ll fucking strangle him with my bare hands.’

‘It’s fine Eds, it wasn’t that bad.’ The denial burns in his chest. He wondered for a long time if he could qualify what he went through as abuse, not because he was actively hoping to label himself as an abuse victim, but because he questioned if what happened to him was worth being this upset over. In conclusion, Richie decreed it wasn’t. Eddie's eyes snap up, burning behind a sheen layer of glass.

‘He never hit me like Bev’s husband did to her.’

‘That doesn’t fucking matter. What happened to Bev is terrible, but that doesn’t make what happened to you any less dire. Both of you were victims of abuse, save for a different kind.’

Are they comparable? If they were talking about another person Richie would say yes, that both leave lasting scars, but because he’s the subject of the question, he can’t say for sure. He’s not lenient enough with himself to allow such a statement to be made. Bev can suffer from the consequences of her abuse, but from Richie’s perspective, he should be over it by now.

‘Oh fuck,’ Eddie curses explicitly, ‘and I called you an idiot. Richie I’m so sorry.’

Eddie’s little crease that only appears when he’s discontent about something appears again, and he avoids eye contact with Richie. There’s no need for any of that. Richie hadn’t even taken that big of a notice about the word. He was reassured Eddie would never use it as a true insult, and even if he wasn’t convinced of that, the tender way Eddie reacts towards him otherwise would be enough to convince him.

‘No Eddie. I don’t mind, really. I don’t want things to change between us because I told you this. I like our banter.’

He finally takes his hand from under the lukewarm water stream, and dries it on his pants -the water, come Eddie’s prediction, has eased the aflame skin -. With both hands now free, Richie cuddles up closer to Eddie, using his arms to tug him closer. Eddie is still dressed in his suit from work - and it might deem handsome, but it is not very comfortable - but has not mentioned getting changed once, too enraptured with taking care of Richie.

‘They won’t if you don’t want to, but we’re making a deal. If I do something that hurts you, you need to tell me, so I can apologize and tell you I didn’t mean any of it. Are we clear?’

‘Aye aye captain. Shall we pinky promise on it?’

‘No, I’d rather kiss on it.’

They do, and this time the kiss progresses further than just a simple peck. Eddie cups Richie’s face in between his palms, a soft, sentimental smile ruining it a little. It doesn’t matter, Richie still greedily savors the moment as it comes.

‘All those times that you went on stage and rocked that whole performance I was already infinitely proud, but shit Richie, now that you’ve told me I’m even prouder. He tore you down but you spit in his face and said fuck no, I’m still going to be my own person. I’ll never let him treat you badly again. More importantly, you’ll never let him do it again. You’re so strong sweetheart.’

Richie sniffs, ‘why the hell are you still being so sappy? I told you everything already, there’s no need to spawn me further.’ He giggles, and Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the sight too, then he turns serious again.

‘Okay, now let me take care of you. I’m going to clean up, hush I am and you’re not going to lift a single finger, and then we’ll order in, watch tv from the bed and cuddle. That sounds good? We can talk about the heavy things in the morning.’ Richie has been through enough for one day.

‘That sounds perfect Eds.’

They let go of each other, but not before Eddie sneaks in a kiss on his forehead, cheek and jaw.

While dating David, Richie never used the word love. He knew, with manipulated affection and all, that he did not love David. Love isn’t supposed to change us, it’s supposed to accept us, makes us laugh and cry at appropriate times, and cocoon us in her warmth. Love doesn’t change us, but it adds something more to the previous person we were yesterday. Eddie adds something more to Richie every single day, be it by teaching him or standing by his side when he messes up. Richie loves Eddie, and he gets loved back equally as fierce.

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

His Dark Obsession (Yandere! Kamski x Reader.) (Chapter One)

Summary: You were the one that got away. The only woman Elijah Kamski ever loved, he thought he could move on, focus on building his company, but despite this you still haunted his thoughts even as the years past. He knew he couldn’t live without you, and he wouldn’t. He was going to do everything within his power to make you his, and his alone. Whether you wanted to or not...

Authors Note: Woo *Wipes head.* I must say it’s been a long while since I’ve written anything yandere, and I kind of miss it. But never less here is my newest Yandere fanfic featuring Elijah Kamski. As you guys are well aware by now I will list any trigger warnings that will be in the chapters in the authors note but since this is just the first chapter there will be nothing overly triggering. Aside from some obsessive thoughts, and mentions of alcohol use. 

Now I know that’s really nothing to write home about but if nothing in this fic is your cup of tea then this is where we part ways but I will remember our time fondly. Now that we got that out of the way here is the first Chapter to His Dark Obsession. Enjoy!

Chapter One.

“I love you, Elijah.” You whispered, a sad smile on you lips, your fingers brushing against his cheek, his hand gripping your wrist. “But this isn’t going to work.” You said, pulling away from him. 

“Please,” Elijah pleaded, tightening his grip on your wrist. “Please, whatever I did to make you want to leave I’m sorry. Please, I need you...”

Shaking your head you backed away from him, a sad look in your eyes, your dress billowing in the wind as you walked away from him into the night. Your name on his lips as he called out to you. Tears spilling down his face as you left him alone.

“Please, Y/N. Please come back to me.” He sobbed, dropping to his knees, as thunder rumbled over head. Another plea spilling past his lips.

***

It was always the same dream. Elijah thought as he roused. Greeted by his darkened room, sweat had matted his hair to his face, which he pushed away as he propped himself on his elbows, thunder rumbling as he looked out the window. Rolling out of bed Elijah opened his curtains, and was greeted by another rainy day. Big, fat raindrops splattering against the window as he rest his forehead against the cool glass.

It had been years since you left him, years since he was left alone begging for you to come back to him, and yet even to this day you still haunted his thoughts. Thoughts of the past, thoughts of what could have been. He was never able to forget you. There were times when he would find himself watching you through the eyes of your android as you went about your days or working from home. You were a Technical Analyst for Cyberlife. That was how he had first met you. How you had become one of his few friends, and as you can imagine his feelings had grown stronger as the years went on. 

As time went on the two of you grew closer, until you were finally together. And for Elijah he foolishly thought the two of you would be together forever. However that was not the case, as you left him only after a year. Stating that it wasn’t working out and you wanted to work on your career. Though Elijah knew the truth, as you relationship went on he noticed the way you looked at one of your fellow colleagues, a young blonde woman with wire rimmed glasses that constantly slipped down her nose. Elijah wasn’t blind he could tell when things were about to fall apart. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less when you did break things off with him. Of course it didn’t help that he all but begged you to come back. 

But that was all for naught as you left him weeping in the rain as you left with your young woman, not once looking back. Shaking those thoughts from his head Elijah pushed those thought to the darkened corners of his mind, as he moved to his desk, booting up his computer. That had been years, years that have come and gone and not a single word from you. He should have given up on you years ago like Gavin had told him too when Elijah first told his brother what happened. His brother, however hadn’t been the most supportive of him in his state. Merely rolling his eyes at him as he shoved a glass of whiskey into Elijah’s hands all while telling him to move on. That if you didn’t think that being with Elijah was worth your time than you shouldn’t be worth his. 

Easier said than done. And god knew Elijah tried, he tried to fill void in his heart with work, with women, with anything to distract him from you. But none of it seemed to work as you always haunted his dreams. Especially tonight, Elijah turned towards his window once more as thunder rumbled over head. He knew he couldn’t continue to live like this, pining for a woman that didn’t want him. He was above this, he was Elijah Kamski for god sake, he could have anyone he wanted, so why not you?

Elijah blinked as that thought popped into his head. At first he was shocked at the thought that flitted through his head. But then as he sat before his computer he found the idea... Appealing. Biting down on his bottom lip Elijah powered on his computer, an idea forming in his mind, he would get you back, maybe not in the most conventional way of wooing someone, but it was better than nothing. Typing on his computer he brought up your profile, you smiling visage making his heart skip despite the image featuring the woman you left him for laughing with you. 

Scowling slightly Elijah scrolled through your page, getting an idea of what your life was like, posts about your daily life, about your work, at first Elijah thought that he wouldn’t find anything he could use when something caught his eye. It was one of your most recent posts. 

From a few weeks ago, it read: Ellen and I just bought a new android, everyone meet Katie!” Elijah arched an eyebrow as he read it. First off he never knew you were someone who would post constantly on their profiles about such... mundane things. Secondly he kicked himself for not remembering your...girlfriends name, Ellen. Of course that name sounded familiar and not because she was the one who stole you from him. But because when he was still with Cyberlife, she was one of those up- and-coming types that had been the top of her class in... Elijah gnawed at his lip as he wracked his mind for what she was in before giving up. It wouldn’t matter in the long run, eventually you would be with him once more, and she would just be a footnote in your and Elijah’s history.

But you did just purchase an android, an AP700 if the picture that followed the post was any indication Obviously your previous android had no longer been of use to you hence why you purchased a new one. No matter he could easily hack into it the same way he did with the previous one. Just to see how you were doing. And what better way that to do that than through the eyes of your android? Nodding to himself Elijah liked that idea, typing a few more commands into his computer he quickly typed a code into his computer, and before he knew it he was looking through the eyes of your android. 

Though there wasn’t much to see as it was still pretty late, your android, Katie, as you called her was stationed at her charging station in what he could only assume was the kitchen. Using your android to look around he caught sight of you sitting at the kitchen table. Glasses perched on your nose as you glared at your laptop, gnawing at the tip of your pen as you no doubt worked out some problem in your head. You always were the night owl, if the cup of coffee that had no doubt long since gone cold sat at your right elbow. 

You looked exactly as you did years ago. Your hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing a shirt two sizes too large and sweatpants. Something you wore often when you worked from home, or were lounging around the house. It looked like things never changed with you. Elijah thought, the corner of his mouth turning upwards at that. 

Resting his head in his hands he sat there watching you, watching as a strand of hair fell across your forehead, and he wished he could reach out and tuck it behind your ear as he used to do. Remembering how soft your hair felt, the way you would sigh as his fingers brushed against your cheek, loving how you would lean into his touch whenever he did it.

“Elijah?” A soft voice spoke up, jerking him from his thoughts, making his whirl around in his seat to face Chloe. 

The blonde android arched an eyebrow at him as she moved further into the room glancing at the man seated at his computer. “It’s five in the morning, why are you up?” she asked.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Elijah said, as he quickly powered down his computer. Hoping that the android didn’t catch on to what he was doing. “So I figured I’d do some work, on a project...”

Very convincing. Elijah mentally scolded himself as he got up from his seat, a faint smile on his lips as he moved towards the blonde android. Watching as she looked up at him expectantly. But far from the truth, as he looked down at her a thought formed in his mind, one in which you would eventually be his once more, whether you want to or not...

“In fact I have a task for you...”

[grahammasurian]

Dumping Your Responsibility.

The dumpster outside my apartment building was completely overflowed. The truck missed a couple weeks for some reason and people just kept piling their shit on top regardless.

“My sin will be forgiven, the next sinner will go to hell!”

This came into my head whenever I thought of the garbage situation. I considered myself 99% innocent since I didn’t use the dumpster during these couple weeks. Unfortunately when disaster happens it doesn’t care how much you were involved, all it sees is your darkness.

What I could have done was call up our landlord. Maybe I didn’t add directly to the trash pile but I still could have brought attention to it. Unfortunately my mind gave me a great reason for not calling him, a wonderful why even bother type of belief. These curses will kill you but they provide immense relief.

He lives someplace nicer and keeps his back turned on this building, so if I don’t tell him anything he’ll keep believing whatever fantasy he’s living. Whenever I bring up something for him to look at he puts it off or conveniently forgets about it, can’t say I blame him. I'd love to do the same sometimes and then feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. It’s hard to convince myself that a life of eternal guilt is worse than a life of hard work. Maybe the simple solution is to just disregard the guilt and make everyone despise me, though I can’t say that seems like a good long term strategy.

I guess everyone likes to avoid responsibility too, don’t get me wrong I get it, because man it sure feels good to not take anything seriously, just sit back and relax through life, I’ll lay down in my bed and fold into a quarter circle. Pull my knees up to my chest and gently hold myself, like swinging in the breeze floating along to somewhere better.

Eventually some birds had a war over the trash that was at this point spilling everywhere, old food, old clothes, plastic shit, maybe real shit. It was a disaster but seemed to be an appropriate punishment for us. I watched a seagull pull apart a bag for 30 minutes, something about the completely boring and ordinary scene held a power over me. I imagined this feeling of our civilizations being consumed again by nature, it’s easy to forget that nature is constantly trying to integrate us more effectively. Integration with an ocean with a mysterious intention.

We could have salvaged things there, rescued some of our dignity and just accepted responsibility for what we did by not doing. I sat some nights debating whether or not I should just go out there and clean up everything alone. I didn’t mind the day, but at night I just loved how things seemed to come to life inside me. There was a power that I didn’t have access to during the day.

I decided it wasn’t worth cleaning up, after all I don’t really care what these people think of me, unless they express it to me. Plus I felt like I fit in better with my environment as a lazy drifter. When I run into the people that live here occasionally there is enough willpower on all our parts to say “Hi” and then move on our way. The two people that live under me, man and wife, maybe around late 50’s early 60’s always give me a glimpse into a possible future. The guy looks like his soul has been sucked out and not in a good way. It scares me for a moment and I tell myself I’ll keep it in mind but my actions don’t change.

The next week after the missed pickup and our experiment with apathy, something happened.

It was 12:33 AM, I was laying down in my bed with the window open, listening to the wind and feeling the slight breeze on my skin. Sometimes I’d lay there for hours listening to music or in silence, using drugs of course. The sounds of the night combined with distant sounds of the city created the backdrop for the worlds I explored in my mind. I break away from the atmosphere and write some ideas down in some form then go back to my mind.

I heard a familiar sound, the mother of this girl screaming in that resentful kind of way. Whenever someone talks that way to me my stomach gets sick, I see this person is using me to escape from something. You know instantly that this isn’t about you anymore, it's about them.

I hated the way this mother yelled at her daughter, I didn’t have kids of my own but I didn’t mind them, I generally see children as innocent beings until they gain awareness. When they become aware they turn into wood, hopefully they make it through and become real but many don’t. Some play as the twisted craftsmen, shaping the world with design. Night after night I’d hear this poor girl being molded into something that will make her unhappy for the rest of her life.

Even though it’s hard to feel connected with darkness, you still elicit feelings for things of the night. You react more on principle and not bigger picture at night, this mother was injecting venom deep into the mind of her daughter. Like a jackass I sat there each night it happened and listened to it like music.

 Being man enough to walk down there one day and call her out on her shitty behavior was always in the back of my mind, but then I would think some more and figure what difference would it make? Sometimes I snap out of my delusions and wake up, I see who I am from up here.

Just look for the right words.

It didn’t happen every time but sometimes this warped girl would dash outside, slamming doors and shouting behind her. Most times I’d hear her small steps pace around or walk down out of earshot then eventually I’d hear her again coming from the other side of the building, maybe doing two or three laps like that before cooling off and gaining enough strength to go back. She feels like she just wants to give up but chooses to continue to face that fate which shows just how much courage she had.

This night the young girl made her usual escape, something about the scene caught my attention. Normally I just ignored it for the most part, but tonight I felt worried for her and listened to see if she was okay.

The shriek of her screaming scared me sober. That kind of pitch that you can only get when you feel real terror.

Confusion at night amplifies fear to a level that can go beyond anything you’ve ever felt. Sometimes hearing a loud noise randomly in the middle of the night only to realize it was something conspicuous is an interesting moment of tension and release of tension. When you listen to death it creates tension that doesn’t go away unless you force it to release.

I couldn’t see much but the sounds made up for the rest, I looked on in horror as this poor unfortunate girl came running towards the front door to come back inside. She must have forgotten to prop it open a little this time like she usually did. The door was shut, she couldn’t escape through there and it was the only chance she had time to try.

This whole thing happened so fast it was as if my mind refused to think about what I was seeing, this bear that must have smelled some food nearby came across her instead.

Hearing someone produce screams that come from a dangerous place, sends a painful shock through you. It would have been nice if I was one of those people that got off on that kind of thing but unfortunately I had to deal with the feelings of misery, dread, sadness, fear, anger, all at once.  

A little bit slower than what should have been immediate there was incredible energy from all around, people coming out and making noise, not too many but enough for me to be impressed.

The general sentiment at the time was:

“Oh My God!” A big fat lady wearing a shaggy blue sweater screeched out. There were many other intense shouts, deflated yelps, sobbing murmurs, all mixing together slowly creating the atmosphere for a tremendously horrific scene.

All these half awake people, semi-disconnected souls felt something deep down within them for once. For the first time in decades some of these hopeless people felt alive, they acted without thought calling back to our primate ancestors. They witnessed a driving force, without realizing the lesson unfortunately.

Some of the people approached the girl to try and attempt some kind of help and others stayed away, accepting the situation or too afraid to know how bad it really was.

Some sobs were heard throughout the night as people came and went, voices that sounded defeated, voices that sounded ready to give up and heavy with guilt.

“Emily! No!” The mother cried. Obviously still drunk. Obviously deluded into thinking her daughter is anywhere close to alive.

“Please baby I’m so sorry! Please wake up baby!”

I had great disdain for this mother, but at that moment I felt bad for her. This woman made mistakes and in the end all it causes is suffering.

They came for her daughter, whisked her away into the abyss forever. Black cloaks riding into the stars on their skeletal horses. I wasn’t sure whether or not the constant beating I was hearing was a drum or my heart. We summoned these demons with our ritual, the choices we made were acts of incantation that brought forth monsters with the power to possess mortals, the possession was the final step in ensuring resurrection lest one of us snap out of the hypnosis and rescue the rest from the gaze of Medusa.

Then some downcast EMT workers took away her body, from the low looks and words after immediately coming upon the scene it was clear that hope didn’t exist anymore. I never saw the aftermath personally, where the actual attack happened was obscured to me by the awning over the door. Sometimes imagination makes things worse.

The mother followed her daughter into the darkness 3 weeks later.

[lets-get-better]

Empty: A Memoir by Susan Burton

So I just finished this incredible book, and I have a lot of thoughts to dump out about it. 

It’s different from other binge eating books that I’ve read in that it does not focus on recovery—Burton is upfront about that, and it’s basically in the title (it’s a memoir, not a guide or explanation). And, a good chunk of it is about her restrictive eating phases before and after her bingeing phase. But it really, really resonated. It’s kind of incredible how experiences that you think are unique to you, are in fact common experiences. 

Even if this book didn’t provide a clear path forward for myself, it made me feel less alone. To quote Burton, who also dove into books about eating disorders while in the midst of her own: “I wasn’t interested in the end, the part where she came out okay. I wanted to stay in the part where she was wrecked. I wanted to feel less alone, because isolation had become the primary consequence of what I did, separating myself from the regular people who lived in the regular way” (Burton 189). Burton voiced thoughts that I didn’t know I had until I read them, and she articulated feelings I’ve struggled with.

Here are some quotes that I felt in my soul, in case they help anyone else:

Describing bingeing as “a way to temporarily shut everything out and exist in an altered reality defined by the loosening of restraint. But bingeing deadened feeling and was incompatible with human connection” (Burton 101).

Later describing binge eating as “a ‘short-term escape from an aversive awareness of self’” (Burton 214).

I had never conceived of bingeing in that way in particular, but when I read it, it felt right. In the moments of bingeing, it’s almost freeing—I’m in a different world where it doesn’t matter what I eat, I’m just free to eat and exist and nothing else matters aside from that freedom. But it’s not a “freedom” to actively avoid reality and everything it brings. It’s caging, it’s isolating, and it prevents living my life. I’m actively avoiding existing as myself—my mind, my body, my life feels too uncomfortable (even if that discomfort might just be the uncomfortable “urges to binge” that Kathryn Hanson describes in Brain Over Binge) and I turn to bingeing.

Describing her mother calling out her anger: “My anger had been talked about before. And, yes, I had plenty of it, but it was all at myself. I was angry at myself for all the wrong ways I was. I wouldn’t be angry if I were better! If I could just fix myself, this would all end” (Burton 107).

God, the anger and self-loathing is so real. On days I binge, or even think about the consequences of previous binges, I just feel like absolute shit, and I’m teetering on the edge of lashing out at everyone around me. But part of me wants to scream that I’m not angry at them, I’m angry at me. And I’ve convinced myself I just need to “fix myself” and stop bingeing, and then I’ll be the perfect bubbly person I want to me. Is this true? Probably not.

“Ten minutes was enough to ruin everything. How was it that in such a small unit of time you could make an entire day into a total wreck?” (Burton 125).

Simply put, this quote was just relatable. It feels impossible some days to ever be a “normal eater” when an entire day can be ruined with ten minutes of bingeing. I know that black-and-white thinking is a problem that needs to be addressed, and days can’t truly be “ruined,” but it was refreshing to see this account written by someone else—a professional! a writer! a perfectionist, over-achiever like me!—who felt the same way I do.

“Other girls just had their bodies and put food into them and didn’t think. Or they did think but in a normal way. I could tell by the way they said it: ‘I am getting so fat.’ They weren’t wrecked by food in the way I was; it didn’t define them” (Burton 136).

I felt this one so strongly. Even when I was mostly “recovered” in college, I still envied the girls who could talk about their food or bodies without feeling deeply uncomfortable or shameful in the way that eating disorders mess up your cognitive associations. And I know that’s unfair of me; I never know what other people are going through, including with food, and Burton addresses her own experiences with having to challenge her preconceived notions of others and her own self-centered perception of eating disorders. It adds to the guilty and shame, I think—to hate yourself, and to project that anger onto others who seem more “normal,” and then to hate yourself even more for doing so.

“My eating had worsened in distinct stages. Beginning each new level, I’d felt horror that this is the worst it’s ever been. Now the worst felt medical. There were times I ate so much food I worried something bad could happen to my body. A line had been crossed: The fear of the harm I was doing was now worse than the humiliation of continuing to expand” (Burton 163).

So much about this book had me yelling internally, “This is me! This is me!”. I can point to specific times when it felt like I’d crossed a bingeing threshold. For example, I would previously never eat at night—not because I was actively avoiding eating at night, but just because it had never really occurred to me to do so, and I didn’t have the desire to. Until I did once during a binge, and suddenly it became a new norm. The number of time’s I’ve said to myself, “This is the worst it’s been...” Yikes. And Burton specifically discussing the medical fears—I have felt genuinely afraid of the damage I was doing, of the heart palpitations and the stomach discomfort and the severe bloating. I’d imagine how embarrassing it would be to die from bingeing so hard that my stomach bursts, and I get so anxious about the possibility. B.E.D is truly horrible.

Discussing how the life milestone of leaving for college couldn’t even feel like an important milestone because of the bingeing: “I could not even contemplate what I felt about leaving home. The only exit I cared about was from the eating. Until I left that, nothing else would matter” (Burton 178).

Bingeing takes over your life. I feel like I cannot live fully, I cannot do anything, until I get my eating under control. It just fills my mind constantly: thoughts of food, eating, weight, body, meals. Nothing else seems to matter, and nothing else can matter, until I clear some of the mental space that is currently taken up by bingeing.

Reflecting on her post-binge rituals of writing and setting new never-again goals each time: “It was the first moment I realized that I was getting something from this. That I liked something about this. I liked the possibility inherent in the act. I liked getting as low as you could and then every day the moment of begin-again. I liked the calm that followed an episode. Something quieted, the need met. Ah, yes, here I am in the place where I make resolutions and start afresh” (Burton 219).

“And it was true that I would miss the cycle of destruction and renewal, so regular that it was circadian” (Burton 219).

This really caused me to reflect on my own “destruction and renewal” cycles. It’s true—after a binge, there’s something ridiculously empowering about setting new goals and resolutions and feeling convinced that it will never happen again because in that moment, it truly feels like a fresh start and a new beginning. Is that part of what keeps the habit engrained? That part of me thrives on the fleeting sense of control, even though I am never able to follow through with those resolutions? Some of my most productive moments have been post-binge, once I get past the self-loathing stage and move on to the resolution, future-oriented stage. I had just never before considered this to be an inherent part of the bingeing cycle...

Describing her constant food thoughts as a sound engineering metaphor: “The eating stuff was a track that ran in my brain under all the other tracks. Sometimes it would get so loud that it would drown out all the other tracks; sometimes I could lower the volume, but I was never able to remove the track from the session. Deleting the track was the wrong idea, [my therapist] said; lowering the volume was good, but the main thing was to boost the other tracks. Boost the other tracks. Develop other strengths and ways to cope; raise the signal on all I’d neglected” (Burton 269).

I absolutely loved this metaphor. Food takes up so much of my brain energy and thoughts, and I have been so desperate to clear up that space for other things. But if I find ways to focus on other strengths and cope with life in new ways, the space will clear itself to make room for the new focuses. It’s kind of intuitive, so it’s not particularly new information, but I wanted to print out this quote and wallpaper my room in it. It gives me hope.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 24

Warnings: mentions of depression, death, grief, sad Tyler, a tad of smut

Tagging: @thunderintheshadows  (although you read this already over on Ao3 lol), @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

The meeting is scheduled for one pm. Held in one of the hotel's smaller conference rooms; Nik hosting from Colorado through a secure satellite feed arranged by the FBI. At Esme's insistence, she'd sought out Mark's help, who in turn, had agreed to lend his assistance as long as it was kept strictly 'off the books'.  Neither Tyler or Yaz made aware; a need to know situation that Nik was certain they didn't need to know. Not at this particular time, anyway. She'd also managed to convince the hotel management that the team -she'd spun a story about them providing private security for some of Ireland's elite- needed a meeting room for 'strategic purposes', and a hefty money transfer had been sent to them to ensure both their cooperation and their silence.

Yaz arrives last; arms and hands loaded down with bags of food and drink for lunch, along with his laptop and iPad.

“You went back to that coffee shop, didn't you,”  Tyler grins, recognizing the logo emblazoned on the front of one of the paper bags. “Was she there? Did you see her? Did you talk to her?”

Esme sits alongside of him, their thighs touching under the table. The need for closeness...both physically and emotional...is overwhelming. On both their parts. As if something or someone was just waiting in the shadows to snatch them away from one another.   Bot are nervous. Anxious. All of the missing information, the complexities of the case, the uneasiness that comes with being in an unfamiliar place and not knowing exactly who your enemy is. All mixing together to create a brutal and punishing force. All jobs come with their share of danger. With the unexpected twists and turns that jumped out at you without a moments notice. Always having to think three steps ahead of you; always wanting to ahead of your foes so you could take them by surprised, not vice versa. But this was different. The trouble had started before they ever set foot on Ireland soil.  Danger could be lurking around every corner; in every dark alleyway or doorway.  

She is feeling it more than the others. It's been almost six years since she'd last been on a job.  She had thought that that part of her life was behind her. More than content to give up the almost nomadic lifestyle in favour or a quieter existence. Quite enjoying the routine and the familiarity that comes with being a stay at home mother and a housewife. It sounds old fashioned; the solace found in taking care of a house, in cooking dinners and doing laundry and other various chores, in keeping a husband happy and satisfied, in spending time with her children and loving on them as much as humanely possible. But after years of never forming true bonds with anyone and never having a stable place to live while running from her demons,  being a spouse and a parent turned out to be exactly what she'd needed.  She'd needed normal. Or at least their version of normal.

At the mention of a girl, she glances away from her laptop, fingers hovering over the keys; in the midst of sending an instant message to Ovi. Both he and Chloe were in constant contact. Always letting her know what is going on at home. Whether it be sharing stories about what the kids were up to, asking questions about things like favourite foods and things that would provide comfort when the little ones were emotional over the realization that both their mom and dad are gone,  letting her know that things felt safe and secure and there had been no suspicious activity or threats. At least not yet.

“She was,” the grin that spreads across Yaz' face is enormous as he arranges the food and beverages in the middle of the table, then busies himself with setting up the tech needed to hold the meeting. They're running on Nik time, and her time -in her eyes- is extremely valuable and she expects others to recognize and abide by it.  “Her name is Anna,” he says. “Anna O'Brian.”

“Oh how adorably Irish,” Esme quips. “Is she legal? Did you ask to see her driver's licences this time?”

Tyler gives an amused smirk.

“You're getting just as bad as he is,” Yaz complains, nodding in the other man's direction. “He's rubbing of on you.”

“She likes when I rub one off on her,” Tyler says, and then winces when his wife grabs a hold of what little excess fat he has above his hip and pinches as hard as she can.

“What?” he asks innocently.  And when she huffs in disgusts and turns her attention back to the laptop, he playfully nudges her in the ribs with his elbow.

“You're disgusting,” she replies. “I can't believe you even said that.”

Yet at the same time, she can recognize the remarkable transformation -one of many- that he's gone through over the past five and a half years.  He's no longer on guard twenty four seven; he's able to relax and actually live in the moment. No longer constantly haunted by the horrible decisions of the past.  Comfortable enough in his own skin...his new skin...to not only let others in, but to be like everyone else.  Sarcastic,  humorous, finally content in his own skin.  Yet when it's time for the seriousness of a situation to kick in, he will be back to all business.

He'll be the old Tyler again. A transformation so quick and subtle that its as if the new one never even existed.

“I read it's supposed to be good for the skin,” he reasons. “It's probably why you look as young as you do. Like a natural moisturizer.”

“You've got serious issues,” she huffs, and then yelps when he grabs a hold of the back of her knee, squeezing lightly and the proceeding to tickle her mercilessly. “Stop it!” she orders in between the laughing and the hiccups that soon make an appearance. “What is wrong with you? Tyler! For fuck sakes! You're going to make me pee myself!”

“You too make me sick,” Yaz declares, when Tyler finally relents; smiling and winking at her, running a hand over her hair and then pressing a kiss to her temple.  “It's gross. The way you two are. All happy and in love and shit. It's been almost six years. Shouldn't you hate each other by now? Isn't this when things go south and you just stay together for the kids?”

“Oh there's days,” Esme says. “Where he is walking a very thin line. Believe me. He's too scared of me to push things too far.”

Tyler nods in agreement. She holds all the power.  It doesn't matter that he's a foot taller or ninety pounds heavier.  He knows when to just shut up and tow the line.  “Then she gets over it when I hate fuck her,” he grins. “She's  relatively harmless after that.”

She sighs in exasperation. “So who's this girl, Yaz?” she asks, as she returns to composing her message to Ovi.  “Waitress? Bartender? Stripper?”

“Speaking of strippers,” Yaz grins. “Tyler...remember that red head in Russia. The one that kept rubbing her massive...”  he gestures to his own chest, mimicking breasts. “...in your face.”

“Oh my god I do not need to hear this!” Esme makes a dramatic gagging noise and places her hands over her ears. “I want to remain oblivious to what he was up to before I met him. Those days didn't exist! I want to pretend they never happened!”

“She had a massive girl boner for your man. She did these things for free. She probably would have given him money for letting her.”

“Yaz...” her eyes are narrow as she glares at him. “...I will punch you in the throat, I swear to God.”

“You remind me of her,” he continues. “With the new hair. Only your boobs are real.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyler frowns, and smacks the younger man upside the head as he gets up to grab food. “Don't talk about my wife's body like that. Don't cross that line, mate. Don't make things weird.”

“My knight in shining armour,” Esme grins.

“Slightly tarnished and dented armour,” Yaz suggests to her “You like that one? Give me that one. Are you impressed by me?”

“I'll both accept it and allow it,” she nods. “I'm going to write that one down so when I get down to writing my book entitled 'Shit Yaz Says', I can include it. So who is she? This girl? Don't leave me out of the loop.”

“A waitress. At a place we went to the other day. She gave me her phone number and I wanted to go in and apologize for not calling her yet. I even brought her flowers.”

“Nicely done,” Tyler nods his approval.  “You've been taking notes.”

“We're going for drinks tonight,” Yaz excitedly bounces up and down on his heels, like a little kid that just found out the Tooth Fairy now gives out twenties for a molar.

“Drinks?” Esme arches an eyebrow. “So that's what kids call it these days. Just call it what Tyler does. Studying.”

“For the record, I did not start that shit,” he places two plates of food on the table and slides one towards her. It's weird in a way; how you get to know someone so well that you know exactly what they'll eat, and be appreciative of even the small gesture of getting it for them.  “I did not call it studying. Ovi said he and Chloe were studying.  I just took it from there.”

“Tyler is a huge fan of studying,” she continues, briefly pressing her shoulder into his when he sits down, giving him a smile of appreciation.  “He likes to study alone.”

“That is not what I said. I said if I have to study alone, I will. Not that I enjoy it. Just that it needs to be done sometimes. What are you supposed to do when your study partner gets a lot of headaches or doesn't feel well?”

“Excuse you, but when was the last time you heard any of those excuses from me? Months. Declan was still a tiny little thing.”

“You two are both fucked,” Yaz declares, and then adjusts the blinds covering the window; so there isn't too much sun streaming into the room and preventing them from seeing the smart board that Nik will appear on.  “T minus six minutes. You guys ready for this shit? It's going to get weird, isn't it. Even more weird than it already is.”

“I have been eating at the buffet of strange all day,” Esme declares, then fills him on everything that has taken place since she'd opened up her eyes first thing in the morning. The strangers outside the hotel room; the nervous shuffling of feet and harsh whispers.  How'd she attempted to glimpse a glimpse of them but had been just a few seconds too late. About the housekeeper insisting that no one was staying in the room that Esme had seen...with her own two eyes...the couple emerge from.

“Hmmm...” Yaz says in response to that piece of information, then looks at Tyler from across the table. Pointed stares. Tyler's eyebrows shooting up. So much communicated between them without even needing to use words.

She launches into what she knows about the Buckman family; no hands on knowledge, but history with colleagues that had gone toe to toe with them and had somehow managed to survive.

“They're not a family you want to fuck with,” she says, as she sips from a bottle of water.  “This is Amir Asif on steroids. I'm not even joking. If you thought Dhaka went to shit, this has the chance to be a hundred times worse. If this blows up in our faces, it's going to be damn near impossible to get those kids out. Not when it's just one person doing the heavy lifting.”

“You think we need more help?” Yaz asks, and when she shrugs, he addresses Tyler.  “You think you need more help? You're the one actually going in.  How are you feeling about the chances? Or being able to get both of them? Two kids plus yourself? Do you think you can get all three of you out?”

“I'm fine with it,” Tyler replies. “I'll be okay. I can handle it.”

“Realistically what's the chances?” Yaz inquires. “That you can successfully get two kids out at once and go up against anyone coming at you? It isn't going to be as easy as just walking in there and grabbing them and taking off. There's going to be resistance. Big time. You think you can handle two kids plus all the other shit being thrown at you?”

“I think you need to let me worry about all of that and let me do my job.  How many extractions have I done? Tons.  Yet you think I'm some kind of rookie just walking in there blind? I know what I'm doing. I can handle getting two kids out.”

“And yourself?” Esme speaks up, not looking away from her laptop.

“We're not talking about that right now. This is about the kids.”

“Your life is just as important,” she gently argues. “Whether you think it is or not.”

“The job is a success if the kids get out,” he counters. “It doesn't matter if I do or not.”

“It matters to me. And to your kids.”

“Maybe we need an extra set of hands,” Yaz suggests. “Someone watching your back.”

“I don't need someone going in with me. What I need is people leaving me alone to do my job. I work better alone. I'll get the kids out. No matter what it takes. That's all that matters. Getting to them and getting the fuck out of there. I've done this before, remember? Have either of you gone in and done the bloody stuff?”

“That's not the point,” Esme says. “How many extractions have you done where you've had two people to get out?”

“None,” he admits.

“Exactly,” she huffs. “What harm does having back up do?”

“It's messy enough with just one person. I don't need someone all up in my ass questioning everything I do. I work alone. I've always worked alone.  So just let me go in and do what I have to do. I'll have it under control. You need to trust me.”

“Two kids, two people,” Yaz reasons. “Would make it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Neither of you are listening to what I'm saying. I run this part of things. I call the shots. Not you. And not you,” he gives Esme's thigh a squeeze under the table. “You have to just back off and let me do what I do.  You want things to run smooth? Or as smooth as they can? Then keep other people out of the way. That's all I ask. Please...” he presses a kiss to her temple. “...trust me. Just trust me.”

“Fine,” she relents.  “But I don't like this. I don't like any of this. Two kids plus yourself? While trying to out run and out gun whoever is going to try and stop you? There's no Saju busting his ass to clear a path. There's no Nik and the team providing tactical support. There's no  G to act as a sniper like he did in Dhaka.”

“You were a sniper,” Yaz points out. “In the corps.”

“I was not a sniper. I merely acted as one from time to time.”

“But you still did it,” Tyler says. “When you had to.”

“Oh hell no. You two are not putting this on me. I came here to help with intel. That's it. That is as far as I'm going. You two are not dragging me down into some fucked up rabbit hole because one of you is too stubborn to ask for outside help and the other just puts his tail between his legs and agrees to whatever the first  one says. No. I'm not doing this. I won't do it.”

“You've got the experience,” Yaz continues. “And I trust you. Tyler trusts you.  You can handle it. And we don't have to drag more people into this. Your intel stuff will be down by then, right? So why not stick around and help out? Better than bringing in outsiders, don't you think?”

“And you agree with this?” Esme address her husband. “You think this is a good idea? Getting me even more involved in this than I already am?”

“I trust you,” he says.  “If there's anyone I want having my back...”

“This is fucked!” she cries. “You're both insane. What in the actual hell is wrong with the two of you? Where did all the common sense go? Both of you used to have tons of it and now it's just gone. It's disappeared.  How does any of this make sense? How do I go from being the intel person to suddenly being tactical back up? Explain to me where this all went wrong.”

“You don't have to actually go in,” Tyler explains. “Just be there. Like G was in Dhaka when I went to see Ovi's captors.”

“Just be there in case you're needed,” Yaz adds. “You know this is going to go to shit. They're going to have a lot of fire power. And Tyler can't get those two kids and himself out of there and be one hundred percent effective when engaging. It's impossible. Not with two little kids tagging along. Just hang out. Find a nice high perch somewhere. Wait and see if you're needed.”

“This is crazy,” she runs her hands over her face. “This is just all so crazy. What are the chances of any of us actually surviving this?”

“Did you make it out of Dhaka?” Tyler inquires. “Did I not find a way to keep you alive? To get you across the bridge?”

“That's not the same thing and you know it.”

“I'll get you out of this too, ” he says. “I promise.”

****

“Talk to me,” Nik says in trademark fashion.  “Who has information?”

“Esme knows the Buckmans. ” Yaz speaks up, and his sister arches a quizzical -yet extremely interested-  eyebrow.

“I don't know them. I know of them. There's a huge difference.”

“What do you know?” Nik asks.

“I only what I've heard through the grapevine. In the circles that I travelled in. Word gets around. Especially about families like that. The old man was killed ten years ago. Everyone suspected it was a hit, but no one every really knew for sure. It was all hearsay. Water cooler chatter.  And I saw his file. His rap sheet was enormous. There were charges on there that should have had him rotting away in jail. Yet he always found a way out of and around things.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“They were back then. When the old guy was running things. I've been out of this for five years, Nik. I'm not exactly up on all the gossip. They were powerful. Probably the most powerful crime family out there. But they were quiet about it. Always flying under the radar. But people knew about them and people feared them and that was enough. They had access to all kinds of shit. Money can buy you a lot of toys. Extremely dangerous and scary ones. So if the daughter really is running the show...”

“She has the same kind of resources and money available to her,” Nik concludes.  

“And the pictures,” Esme taps her fingernails on one hand against the tabletop as she speaks, using the other hand to bring up the photos of Heather Buckman on the laptop. “The ones someone gave to Tyler. The ones with the kids are very real. There's no doubt about that. You can't fake that kind of terror in someone's eyes. Especially kids. But the wife? Those are not real, Nik. It gets more and more obvious every time I look at them. First of all, it makes no sense to keep mother and kids in two different spots. That's two separate places you have to constantly man and monitor. Second, she's only been given a minor working over.  Nothing like the kids. The hair was a nice touch, but it was too much.  Too much effort into trying to make something look real.”

“Any way of figuring out where she or the kids are being held?”

“Based just on those pictures? No. There's thousands of places that could look just what it's in the photos. Without actually narrowing down locations, it's impossible. What's the chances of going into McMann's house?”

“I can get you into anywhere you feel the need to be,” Nik confidently declares. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm not even sure to be honest. But maybe there's something there that can give us some sort of clue. It's a long shot. But...”

“I'll arrange it and contact you. In the meantime, I have a couple places for you to check out. I want you go in and ask some questions. Tell them that you're a journalist from over the pond that received an anonymous tip that there's trouble brewing between the IRA and a New Zealand crime family. That should be enough to loosen some lips. Charm them. Get them to warm up to you. Flirt with them if you have to. Pull out all the stops. I don't care how far you have to go to get information. Just get it. I'm sending the address to your SAT. It's a bar in downtown Belfast. Owned by an active IRA member.”

“She's not going alone.” Tyler speaks up. “No way. Not into something like that.”

“You tag along but you stay outside,” Nik says. “I don't want you in there. They'll recognize you when they see you and we can't have the two of you being connected in any way.  Stay across the street. Or somewhere they won't spot you. But no more than a hundred yards away. Make sure you're armed. Just in case.”

“She should be armed too,” he suggests.

“They'll make her for sure. We can't take that chance. She goes in alone and does what she needs to do. You stay outside and keep an eye on things. You only go in if things go to shit and you have no other choice. Understand me?”

He nods.

“I have someone coming to meet you. He'll be there between six and nine pm, you're time. He's from Dublin. He's reliable. He's bringing you some more ammo and some weapons. He's on the up and up. You can trust him. Have you talked to McMann? Does he know that you're onto him?”

“I'm meeting with him tomorrow morning,” Tyler says.  “He wants to talk. See where we are at with things. To be honest, I want to fucking strangle him.”

“Well try not to. I know you're pissed. And I understand it. But you should let him know. That you know everything he told you about his New Zealand extraction was a lie. Maybe if you lose it on him it will get him to talk. He knows more than he's letting on. Maybe seeing you pissed will scare some sense into him. Tell him everything. About the pictures. About the threats against your family. Lean on him and lean on him hard. As hard you can without physically hurting him.”

“I vote that Tyler at least gets to throw one punch,” Yaz pipes up. “To the throat. Nice and hard.”

Esme nods in agreement.

“Yaz,” his sister address him now. “I've got someone meeting up with you with some new technology. High tech. Ways that we can all communicate without it being noticeable. Ear wigs, bugs, things like that. Inconspicuous. The old radios won't cut it. Too noticeable. I'm sending you his information and you can reach out to him and arrange something.”

“Where are we at on this Erin girl?” Tyler inquires. “The one that showed up at my room.”

“I've done all the digging I can do,” Nik replies. “There is no Erin Ferguson in Belfast that matches her description. I don't know if Esme would have more luck.”

“I can try,” she offers. “But there's only so much I can do. Without facial recognition software and other high tech shit like that, my hands are pretty well tied. I can see if there's any security footage of her entering or leaving the hotel and maybe I'll get lucky with image search on google. But that's a big 'if', Nik.”

“See what you can do. I'm not expecting miracles.”

“How's things there?” Tyler asks.  

“There's been no sign of anything even remotely suspicious. No threats. Nothing. But I'm going to stay here and keep the detail I have. Ovi and Chloe are handling things. The kids are happy. Calm. Well, as calm as they can be. You know what you're kids are like. Calm doesn't exactly describe them well.  But they're fine. They miss you guys.  I didn't realize how much they look and act just like you, Tyler.  It's kind of unnerving. Scary even. You have some seriously strong genes.”

Esme nods in agreement, and he gives her a wink and a smile and takes her hand under the table.

“We've come up with a plan,” Yaz informs his sister. “When it comes to tactical support. For when it comes time for Tyler to get the kids out. It's going to be hard. Juggling two kids and fighting back. Because you just know the shit is going to hit the fan and they're going to come at him and they're going to come at him hard. With everything they've got.”

“What kind of plan?” Nik asks.

“Esme can do it. She has the experience. She can just find a place to watch and wait from.  If things don't go wrong, then that's all she'll have to do. Watch. If things do blow up...”

“And they will,” Esme speaks up. “Because if Dhaka as bad as it did, this is going to go a hundred times worse. And that's being fatalistic. That's being realistic. These people? They're capable of bad shit. Horribly bad shit. They make Amir Asif seem tame in comparison.  Dhaka was a shit show.  This is going be Dhaka on a massive dose of steroids.”

“But will you do it?” Nik asks.  “Can you do it? Because I think we all understand if you can't.”

Esme sighs, pushes her hair behind her ears.  “I can do it,” she confidently.  “I don't want to do it. But I will.  Only because it's Tyler.”

****

They make love. The drapes drawn across the window; rays of sunlight poking through the small gaps in the fabric. His hands on her hips as she straddles him; guiding every slow, deliberate movement. Sex has always been what they do. A coping mechanism. The most pure yet raw way of experiencing the deepest and most primal form of intimacy.   Driven out of need and desperation; fuelled by worry and stress and the fear that each time may be the last.  So many unknowns lying ahead of them. The future suddenly terrifying unstable.

When she comes undone -nails scrapping painfully down his chest, his name exploding from her lips- he gives her little time to recuperate. One strong arm wrapping around her waist and throwing her down onto her stomach, legs flat against the bed, a knee pushing her tights apart before settling himself between them. Pausing long enough to run the tip of his tongue all the way down the length of her spine; eliciting a whimper from her, her entire body trembling from both the new sensation and the aftermath of her powerful orgasm.  His hands running over her shoulders, fingertips grazing over her ribs and down to her hips, once more gripping them tightly as he pushes into her. The friction intense; the press of her body against the bed, the tightness of those barely spread legs, his hips sinking as far into her as they possibly can. A low, feral growl erupting from within his chest as he bottoms out inside of her.  Dropping his head, longer strands of hair brushing against her bare skin as his teeth nip at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Holding back as he revels in the sensation of being so deep inside of her, until her hand is lifting up and blindly grabbing at his hair; a clear indication for him to continue.  And he captures her hand in hers, holding her arm above her head, pinned to the mattress as he pulls out entirely and then slides back in with such force that it pushes her body up the body and causes her to cry out into the pillow underneath her.

His control is non existent. He'd felt it slipping away inside that conference room.  Everything was going to shit and he knew it.  The disaster was inevitable; looming on the horizon like some dark, threatening cloud that you can't possibly outrun.  Things have already gone so wrong. The worry and the fear are already overwhelming. The stress all consuming. And he is physically channels those emotions; using her body as a way to relieve some of the burden.  Bruising, painful thrusts that have her whimpering and crying out, his name repeatedly tumbling from her parched lips.  Her nails digging into his fingers with enough force to break the top layer of skin, her other hand grasping at the sheets below.  And he kneels above her, free hand sliding between her and the mattress, fingers pushing past her sopping lips to find her clit.  Slowly rubbing at it until the second orgasm hits; tears streaming down her face, his name being screamed loud enough for anyone in the hallway or adjacent rooms to here.  Continuing his ministrations until she's coming a third time; her eyes wide, delirious sounds escaping her. Fucking her until she can't quite possibly can't handle any more; both hands biting into her hips as he pushes his pelvis against her ass  and empties himself inside of her.  Sweat dripping from his brow, the droplets glistening on her bare skin.

Afterwards they rest.  Letting their bodies settle.  Their minds absorb -and fixate- on all of the information they'd be given early.  He lays on back,  a forearm over his eyes, a hand on Esme's hip as she naps on her side, ass tucked against his hip.  He hears her stir; the long, soft sigh that she releases, followed by her quiet, sleepy voice.

“Tyler?”

He switches positions, rolling over onto his side; front pressed tightly against her back. The hand that was on her hip now coming to rest on her shoulder; palm gliding all the way down her arm, fingertips passing over her wrist and down onto the top of her hand, then retreating and sliding back up again, until his hand settles on her ribs.  

“Yeah?” he asks, and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“Are you okay? You seem...I don't know...different. Distant. Ever since the meeting with Nik.”

“I'm fine,” he assures her. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Like?”

“Lots of things.  About us.  About you.”

“Bad things or...?”

“I'm just worried,” he admits.

“About?”

“You.”

She brings her arm across her body and places her hand over his, lacing their fingers together.

“I don’t want you going there,” he says.  “To that bar. Alone.”

“You’ll be outside. A hundred feet away.”

“Outside,” he stresses the word.  “You’ll be inside. Alone.”

“I’m only going in there to ask some questions,” she reasons. “See if I can’t lure them in. Get them to talk. Or send me in the direction of people who will. What do you think is going to happen?”

“They’re IRA,” he reminds her. “They’ll be armed. What if they make you?”

“They won’t. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

She sighs, slipping her hand out of his and then rolling over to face him. Their heads sharing the same pillow, the ends of their noses practically touching.

His hand moves to her thigh now, stroking it softly.  

“Remember in the elevator?” she asks. “When that kid was armed and I was freaking out? And you said you weren’t some rookie?”

He nods.

“Well neither am I. This isn’t the first time I’ll be doing this. I spent years going into worse places. Mingling. Being accepted. Getting people to open up to me. I’ve deal with some pretty scary, hard core people and not once did I ever get made. You need to trust me, Tyler.”

“I do trust you. You’re my wife.  I trust you with my kids, don’t I?”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it. I’m not talking about the trust that comes with sharing a life together. Sharing a bed. Sharing children. I’m talking about the trust that comes with the job.”

His brow furrows. “You’re not in the job. You never have been. And I don’t want you to be.”

“Then why am I here?” she challenges.

“Because I need your help.”

“Which means I’m in this. Whether you like it or not. You brought me into this, Tyler. I was more than happy to stay home and take care of a house and give you babies and raise those babies. That is what you wanted. You made that clear as soon as we got married. You wanted a housewife. You wanted someone to give you kids. You wanted a family. You wanted everything your mother was and then some. And I went with it. Because I knew it was what you needed. I knew you needed that normalcy. That if you were going to successfully balance the job and a regular life, that you needed things a certain way at home. And I’ve given you that. Or I’ve tried to, at least.”

“You have. You know you have. And you know how much I love you. How much I love my kids. How much I love our life. And you’re right. I did need all of that. I still do.”

“But I had a life before you. I had a life before all of this. Before marriage and kids.”

“I know.”

“And it bothers you to even think about. You hate thinking about what I was like before you. But this was my life, Tyler. Before you ever existed in it. I lied to people. I conned them. I made them trust me. Then I let other people…people like you…destroy them. And I was good at it. Damn good. Other mercenaries trusted me. So why don’t you?”

He regards her intently, drawing in a long, shaky breath, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. “Because it’s different.”

“How? And I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m genuinely curious. How is it different?”

“Because you weren’t married to any of them. I’m your husband. The father of your kids. They didn’t have any ties to you. I do.  I love you. And I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“You trusted me in Dhaka,” she points out.

“Dhaka was different.”

“How so?”

“Because it fucking was,” his last shred of patience finally snaps, and he hates himself for it.  How he doesn’t have a logical and sound explanation for why he feels the way he does. “Things were different then,” he attempts, and rolls over onto his back, running his hands over his face before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “We were different then.”

“We were just fucking then, you mean. Back then, I meant nothing to you. I was just some desperate and lonely girl. A warm body for you to occupy yourself with. It was easier for you that way.  To just let me do what I needed to do because I meant absolutely nothing to you. It wouldn’t have mattered back then if something happened to me.”

He gives a derisive snort and shakes his head, then reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You meant something. Even then. I don’t know what it was.  I can’t explain what I felt. I just know I felt it. I just know you meant something. Stop tying to fucking psychoanalyze me all the time. I know what I felt. About you. About what was happening. I shouldn’t have to explain it.”

“It was sex, Tyler. There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. That that’s all it was.”

“That’s not all it was.  Maybe it started out that way.  Maybe that’s all I wanted at first.  But it changed, okay? Some time in those five days. I don’t know when or how. Just that it did.  I knew I wanted more from you.  That we could have something fucking amazing if we actually tried.  If we trusted one another enough to try. And we were so close. So fucking close. To getting that. To getting to that boat and never looking back and just seeing where things took us.”

“Do you regret the path we had to take to get to where we are now?”

“I don’t regret anything. Do I sometimes wish things were different? That things didn’t go so wrong in Dhaka? I wish that all the time. That we just got across the bridge and got the fuck out of there. But we didn’t.   Things happened the way they did. We can’t go back and change that. Do I wish we could have had more time to get to know each other? Before we found out we were having a baby and decided to get married? Yeah. Sometimes I do wish that. Only because I think it would have been better for you.”

“Tyler, I have you. I have our kids. How much better do you think I need things to be?”

“I don’t mean better in that way. I mean…I don’t know…easier…” he swallows half the bottle of water, and she plucks it from his hand and finishes it before pushing herself up onto her knees and shuffling towards him.  “…don’t make me talk about these things. Please. Just don’t.”

“You’re doing fine,” she assures him, as she straddles his lap, a gentle smile on her lips as she pushes her fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp before resting clasping her hands together at the nape of his neck. “What are you so scared of?”

“Nothing. I’m not scared of anything. I just don’t want to talk about shit like this. This isn’t me. You know that.”

“I think it is. Deep down. I think you need to talk about these things or you wouldn’t bring them up in the first place. Talk to me…” she pecks his lips, then rests her forehead against. “It’s okay…you can do this…you can be this way with me…you know that…”

He sighs, eyes closing as his palms run along her thighs, over her hips and up her back. Stopping briefly at her shoulders; fingers pressing into the flesh before his hands slide back down again, coming to rest of her sides.

“It’s okay…” she repeats. “Tyler…look at me…”

He opens his eyes. Brilliant blue locked on chocolate brown. And in that moment, Esme realizes that in almost six years, she’s never seen him like this. Not even when he was in the hospital fighting to not only heal, but to regain some sense of control over his life. Looking so confused and lost. Worried.

Vulnerable.

This big, strong and seemingly man for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Tyler…you can say it. Whatever you need to say. You don’t have to do this. Keep things from me. Please. Just tell me. Talk to me.”

“Sometimes I think you hate me. For making things so hard on you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“For having to make the decisions you did. For having to give up your life. The job.  Everything changed when we met. Everything changed once things went to shit on that bridge. I changed. So did you. And you could have just walked away afterwards. But you didn’t.”

“Because I didn’t want to. Because I wanted to be with you. You didn’t force me to stay. I stayed willingly.”

“But things were hard. They sucked. Huge. You shouldn’t have had to see the things you did. Hear the things you did. You should have just left. When I was in the hospital. You should have just walked away. And sometimes I wonder if you wish you did.”

“Not once have I ever wished that. Not once have I ever hated you. I don’t regret giving up my life for you. Did it suck sometimes? Did I hate seeing you like that? Did I feel like shit because I couldn’t help you more than I already was? Did I hate seeing you in pain and suffering? Of course I did. I hated the circumstances. Not you.”

He nods slowly, eyes never leaving hers, searching for even the smallest hint of regret.

“Do I sometimes wish none of that ever happened? That things never went wrong in Dhaka? Of course I do. I wish every day that you didn’t have to go through what you did. That you didn’t have to suffer like you did. All those months of rehab and all the pain. I would take those away in a heartbeat and you know I would.  But everything else? Finding out we were having a baby? Deciding to get married? I don’t regret any of that.  I mean, you’re a pain in my ass…”

He gives a small chuckle.

“…but I don’t regret marrying you. Or having your children. And I’ve never hated you. Not even during our worst fights. When you’ve said some brutal and hurtful shit. Not even then. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I meant what I said. That there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But you need to trust me, Tyler. You wanted my help. You brought me into this. And now you have to trust me to do what I need to do. I know what I’m doing.”

“I can’t lose you,” his voice is barely above a whisper, those eyes still locked on hers. “I just can’t. You always talk about how scared you are to lose me. But I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t do this by myself. Take care of four kids. I just can’t.”

“Yes. You can. You would do it because you wouldn’t have any other choice.”

He shakes his head, finally turning his face away from her when the emotion becomes too much to handle. The rawness of the situation. The blatant, heart breaking honesty.

“You’re stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for,” she says, and presses a kiss to his temple.  “You’d be okay. And so would the kids.”

“I don’t…” the tears are hot and bitter as they trickle down his face.   “….can we not talk about this….please…I don’t want to talk about this…”

Placing a soft, tender kiss on his cheek, she lays on hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to rest it upon her shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he whispers, and then clings to her, arms wrapped tightly around her slender body. “Please…” he begs, barely able to get the words out. “…don’t make me talk about this…”

She tightens her hold on him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the fingers of her other hand pressing into his scalp. “It’s okay,” she assures him.  “It’s okay, Tyler. I’ve got you.”

Those words hit with tremendous power.  And he surrenders. Finally giving in to all the fear and the worry.

His entire body shaking with the ferocity of his sobs.

[theteaisaddictive]

It just hit me in a flash that i never asked for your thoughts/rankings of the Cats 2019 soundtrack. Please forgive my ignorance and bestow the gift of your wisdom upon us

i have been caught in a whirlwind of events, which is why i have not responded sooner, but i’m currently home sick so what better excuse is there to wax evangelical (evan . . . jellicle??) about the cats movie soundtrack than this precise moment

i. jellicle songs for jellicle cats

i mean. well. first things first, it was recorded in advance (i assume that the 90s version was a live recording, but i could be wrong here) so of course it is going to sound awkward and stilted. this is nothing compared to how awkward and unnatural it is to see a bunch of actors naked save for cgi fur and ken-doll-like crotches singing and . . . uh, i think they’re dancing? -- around the white cat victoria, who did not have nearly so big a part from what i can digest of the 90s youtube clips. my favourite part has to be the fucking techno beat though. god damn. party on, you funky little abominations.

ii. the naming of cats/the invitation to the jellicle ball

yes, i will be smushing the exposition-related songs together unless i feel like separating them. this is my life, these are my choices. idk, it was fine?? i guess? munkustrap (aka The Main Cat Who Isn’t Victoria or Judi Dench and Quite Frankly Deserved Better Because He Was Giving This Performance His All) kind of just says the naming instead of it being a company-wide thing. they did not include bombalurina or demeter’s names in the naming, and this was the point at which i realised that the big name stars were not, in fact, going to lounge around in the background for the entirety of the play like they do in the musical. :(

the invitation also sees my Sweet Boy mr mistoffelees get his first solo line, which is good bc i fell in love with his sweet little face over the course of the film, and bad bc it marks the start of the absurd victoria/mr mistoffelees subplot which i am convinced was put in because of course a plotless weirdmageddon like cats needs a romantic subplot

iii. the old gumbie cat

something that needs mentioning is that idris elba shows up as macavity at various points in-between songs. i’m pretty sure he shows up for the first time here and like, tries to lure victoria away?? i think?? anyway it obviously does not work bc unfortunately we are stuck with victoria for the entire film, so onto the gumbie cat song we go.

what can i say about the rebel wilson song that hasn’t already been said. she unzips her skin. the cockroaches are uncanny in the extreme. there are slater-sized mice played by children. there is no funky tap routine, or if there is it was erased from my mind by the frequent awkward gaps in which rebel wilson attempted to be funny. dear god. 

iv. the rum tum tugger

miiiiilllllkk

ok, ok, fine. jason derulo gave a fun, lively performance and didn’t even have the decency to do a bad english accent, which means there is at least one song which i have to genuinely like and can’t just like ironically. but also miiiiillllkkk why is there a milk bar in london which is perfectly cat-sized whyyyy. 

v. grizabella

i am going to be honest. i think that this song appeared later in the movie, but the soundtrack only lists ‘highlights’ so it doesn’t appear in the track list. idk what to say. there are some girl cats (unnamed, although i think they have names in the stage version) who are mean to grizabella and then they say that she started working for macavity?? i’m not sure if this does or does not imply that he became her pimp, although he certainly has the coat and hat for it, which only raises more questions which i dare not put voice to.

vi. bustopher jones

fuck james corden. what the fuck did he do to the refined, fat old cat who frequents gentleman’s clubs and only dines on the finest stuff?? he made him dig around in the rubbish bins and interrupt the song twice to make ‘jokes’ about how fat he is. god i cannot fuckign stand james corden and i do not think he’s funny so i’m aware i may be biased but still. god. 

oh yes and then at the end macavity lures him over to a giant bin (in full view of the other cats, might i add) and thanos snaps him out of existence, but sadly not out of the movie. rebel wilson also got thanos-snapped earlier i just forgot to mention it.

vii. mungojerrie and rumpleteazer

i understand that this melody is the original melody and that the melody used in the 90s recording was a change made for broadway; however, this was the most boring fucking song in the movie and they should have used the broadway version, good night. also victoria is there while they burgle the house, for some reason, bc having an audience surrogate means she needs to be in Every Fucking Scene, so that was a Choice.

viii. old deuteronomy

a nice, sweet song introducing judi dench, sung by munkustrap in such a manner that i began to wonder if he was like, her boytoy or something. also the nuzzling is, like, out of control. i know there’s nuzzling in the stage version, but onstage they're also all crawling around on all fours and stuff whereas here they’re bipedal most of the time. it makes it look like everyone is constantly going in for a kiss when they’re actually just being sociable, and it is fucking disorienting.

ix. the jellicle ball

by the way, the jellicle ball itself takes place in some sort of cat-friendly dilapidated theatre, and it is both the weirdest and least weird thing about this whole movie. 

idk, it was fine?? oh wait, i actually forgot -- so waaaaay back at the start, victoria has a famous solo which wasn’t actually a solo in this version but danced with munkustrap, which . . . .was a Choice. so now she dances with like five different male cats, and it gets frantic, and Every Single Cat is just tearing it up on the dance floor, seriously the dancers in this are incredible, and then i think they all collapse on the floor in a heap, and it was at this point that i learned to be thankful i was not subjected to watching a cgi cat orgy while sitting next to my horrified sister

x. grizabella the glamour cat/memory (prelude)

like i said, i can’t remember what order this happens on the movie, so i’m taking the tracklist from the olc on genius. anyway victoria sneaks out for . . . reasons, and she sees grizabella. and grizabella is sad, and sings her song in the first person, because demeter got cut, because fuck demeter, i guess. oh yeah, and tom hooper, he of the masterful subtlety, had jennifer hudson sitting at a lamppost with withered leaves collected at her feet which she pointed to at the relevant lines. i’m surprised he didn’t add a sound effect of a moaning wind.

xi. beautiful ghosts

this was the song that taylor swift wrote for the movie and by god can you tell. it is incredibly jarring and serves no purpose (beyond, i guess, the purpose of deepening the nothing character of victoria), and -- ugh. look, it’s a pretty little song, and both victoria and taylor swift sing it well, but it’s thoroughly unnecessary. it’s like ‘suddenly’ in 2012 les mis -- why is this here??

xii. gus the theatre cat

i am not ashamed to admit that ian mckellen ‘singing’ gus the theatre cat was enough to bring a tear to my eye. because, well. the man may not have sung, but by god he acted. i challenge anyone with a heart to sit through all of cats and not even feel the slightest tug at their heartstrings when gus’s song plays. not even judi dench lifting one leg in appreciation could completely break the mood. oh wait. it did. (also gus got thanos-snapped by macavity immediately after exiting the stage)

xiii. skimbleshanks the railway cat

oooooh fuck YESSSSSS this is the single best song in the whole damn film. skimbleshanks himself?? wonderful. iconic. beautiful. his tap routine?? inspired. he’s skimbleshanks the railway cat -- the cat on the railway train! he inexplicably is wearing red dungarees, making him the fourth cat to be wearing clothes for no reason, and at the very end he spins like a top all the way into the air, before being thanes-snapped out of existence (but happily, not out of the movie) by.....

xiv. macavity the mystery cat

taylor swift is there. she’s undressed except for her cgi fur and a pair of stage heels. she starts tapping her little container of catnip over the collective of cats, causing munkustrap to make the sort of face you see reeve!superman make when he’s being poisoned by kryptonite, except that he is a cat being drugged with catnip and it is hard to take him seriously as a result. the song itself is a perfect guilty pleasure. taylor swift’s accent is shitty enough that you can enjoy the ridiculousness of the entire situation. idris elba cuts in to join the final chorus on ‘the Napoleon of criiiiiimmme’ and then he takes off his pimp coat and is . . . distressingly nude for the rest of the film. he dances briefly with taylor swift. it’s a thing.

anyway they thanos-snap judi dench to a boat on the thames bc she won’t let him go to cat heaven and the rest of the cats are left discombobulated. this is when Local Sadboy mr mistoffelees is uh, peer-pressured into attempting to magic judi dench back to the cats. bc mr mistoffelees has an arc now, you guys. and his arc?? is about getting his mojo back.

xv. mister mistoffelees

this song is also sung in first person by mistoffelees, which makes less sense when you get to the second verse, but whatever the movie only has about twenty minutes left let's just do it. it’s a solid song, but they keep pausing after every chorus to see if he can get judi dench back yet, which really dampens the groove that they have going on. anyway, they get her back, mr mistoffelees believes in himself now, yadda yadda yadda. meawhile back on the boat, this dickhead apparently didn’t bother to teleport the other cats back, so they fight their way out and rebel willson unzips her skin again. at this point in the cinema i was praying for mercy.

xvi. memory

memory was a song. it was clearly sung with a lot of emotion. for me, personally?? that emotion did not connect. sorry jennifer hudson. oh yeah also victoria has a verse in this song and i mentally wanted to s c r e am because this is not your fucking moment victoria, let the sad jennifer hudson cat belt her lungs out in peace

xvii. the ad-dressing of cats

god. let it end. let it end. this last ‘song’ was dragged out minute after minute after minute. judi dench looked into my very soul when she told me a cat was not a dog, and i still don’t know what she found there. when she started talking about cream and pie i could see munkustrap, he of the Giving This Performance His All, continue his impeccable acting by making faces of delight at her words. oh, munkustrap. even now, at the very end, you brought me joy. thank you, dear cat. thank you. 

[dr-gloom]

I can’t remember the days before I was affected by mental illness. I don’t know if I just have a poor memory, or if the mental illnesses have chipped away at my brain’s physiology. I’ve had depression for half of my life, though since I can hardly remember my life before middle school, it feels like I’ve always had it. I’ve always had the sense of loss, knowing that who I was back then has been stolen and warped, and I can never have them back. Yet I don’t even know who they were, only the vague notion that they were happy. 

It seems as though from the moment puberty began I was being told I needed to watch my weight, make sure I didn’t get fat. I was underweight from the time I was six until high school, and yet as soon as I hit average weight everyone - my mother, doctors, myself, family friends you name it - was telling me to watch my weight, that I didn’t want to be fat, and oh I was looking a little round, I should cut back. It was no surprise to me that I ended up with an eating disorder, but I used to be surprised that no one saw it (not anymore, I’m aware they don’t care). I wasn’t starving myself, or binging an purging, or exercising excessively. I was refusing to take insulin, to the point it became unconscious and I never even thought about it. I was damaging my organs and turning my blood acidic, and all the while doctors would see me for an hour every three months and mutter “you need to do your insulin” before sending me home to repeat the process. No one thought this barely average-weight depressed teen could be trying desperately to not be fat. 

I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to kill myself. Too many, that’s all that really matters. I’ve heard it all. I’m selfish. People would miss me. I should look forward to the small things and the big things and the stupid and silly things. I’m expected to scrounge for any reason I can possibly think of to stick around for other people. I’ve always thought it was selfish of others to ask I continue to suffer because they would be sad if I was gone. What about me? I’m miserable in life; I laugh the loudest and smile the brightest and joke the most but every day I’m bleeding, and people would ask that I keep suffering unspeakable pain because it’s what’s best for them. I’ve heard all the excuses and all the reasonings and all the lies. I don’t need to scrounge for reasons to live. I have so many. So fucking many. I have light rain that quiets the mind. I have ridiculous chats with people online. I have music, I have drawing and writing and reading and Thomas Sanders and a million other things.

And yet, life is still unbearable. And no one seems to get that.

No matter what I have, I am miserable, and I have tried and tried but I just can’t seem to be happy, I can’t be normal. I am so grateful for the things and the people in my life, I really am, and it makes me feel like scum for still weeping for death when I can’t sleep at night. How could I possibly be hurting so badly when my life is so good? I have no right. So many people have it so much worse. 

I always feel alone, unless I’m constantly surrounded by people. But that’s so unrealistic. I have depression, anxiety, ADHD, BPD. I’m a mess. No one would ever want to be around me all the time, even if they could be. I ruin all my relationships because I push people away and then panic and beg when they want to leave. I make people feel unloved and unwanted while inside, in my head, I’m worshiping the ground they walk on. I know this, and yet I have no idea how. I don’t know what I’m dong wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it. And I keep trying, and trying, and trying, as if I expect someone to just come along and magically my BPD will be gone and I’ll be a healthy partner to them. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about Van Gogh’s last words. “La tristesse durera toujours”. The sadness will last forever. And I think about all the people who insist that life gets better, the cliches about rainbows and rain, about adversity making us strong. I think about how people kill themselves, and strangers will mourn for the person who “gave up too soon”. But what if that isn’t it? Some people can pull themselves out of depression, but some live with it their entire lives. When is enough enough? How long do you have to struggle to tread water, how many antidepressants do you have to try, how many therapists or therapy sessions do you have to go to before the world allows you to give up in peace? When does the world finally realize that sometimes suffering doesn’t go away? When do we stop insisting that it will, and guilting people when they know it won’t? 

If someone with cancer decides to throw in the towel and refuse treatment to die in peace, they’re respected. Sure, people get sad they’re gonna die, and maybe they try to talk the person out of it, but ultimately “it’s their decision”. So why is mental illness any different? Because it’s in the mind? I am incredibly smart, and I think things through a little too thoroughly sometimes. I have all of my mental faculties in check. So why is my decision to end my life less valid than theirs? Because their pain is physical?

I have lived my entire life as a second-class citizen. I have no control over the food I eat, I’m expected to disclose everything and I get punished and yelled at when I don’t, I have no say in things that directly affect me, and I’m treated like a child. I can’t live on my own because “something might happen”. I can’t get a job because “I should focus on school”. I can’t even drive to San Francisco by myself because they’re all convinced I’d have an anxiety attack and total my car. I’m treated like a toddler, or a disabled person. I’m constantly being stepped on and yelled at and ridiculed and abused by the one person who is supposed to love and protect me no matter what. 

I’m tired. 

[sodoyouknowbts]

Jungkook x Reader - Game On! (Fifteen)

Summary: Jungkook was the boy you had always had a crush on but after an event that leaves you heartbroken and humiliated, you cut him from your life. However, years later your paths cross again and now an adult, you swear to not let him get the better of you.

Genre: Romance, drama,

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Author: Moxie

Chapter 15

Okay, today's the day. 

With shaky hands, you slip your letter into Jungkook's locker and send a quick prayer to the love gods. You had been battling an internal war with yourself for almost a year, constantly fighting off your romantic feelings for Jungkook, convincing yourself that it would never lead to anything and that Jungkook would only ever be your friend. At least that's what you had thought, until you were partnered together for a class project.

Since the start of the school year, you and Jungkook had grown more and more apart, despite that fact that he was in the same class as you and you saw each other almost every day. It was a gradual process and you barely noticed what was happening until it was too late. You had gone from speaking every day to only speaking when your families gathered for dinner, which also happened less frequently as everyone grew too busy. So it was a gift from the gods that you two happened to be partnered together for the project.

The time you spent working with Jungkook on the project only made you realise how deep your feelings for him truly were and the thought of going back to the way things were before, filled you with dread. You had missed hanging out together and it seemed that you weren't the only one.

As you both progressed through school, you had always been curious as to why Jungkook still had yet to have a girlfriend. It wasn't that he didn't have the opportunity; there were plenty of girl who liked him. It was just that he never seemed interested in any of them and for the past week you couldn't help but think that maybe you were the reason why. There wasn't any solid proof that your assumption was correct but at that time you didn't need any.

You had everything planned out. Jungkook would read your letter, which you had spent most of the night writing and then he would know how you felt. From then there were two possible outcomes. The first and the one you prayed with all your heart would be the victor, Jungkook reciprocates your feelings. The second, the one that scared you the most and the reason why you had held your feelings in until now, you friendship would end. It was a gamble but you didn't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what if.

You had everything planned out and you were ready for either of the outcomes, except you hadn't considered that there could be a third outcome. You hadn't considered the possibility that when you slipped the note into Jungkook's locker, it had gotten caught between the pages of his notebook and when he opened it up in class, your letter would fall out onto the ground, right by his friend, Eric.

You watched on in frozen horror as Eric reached down for your letter and opened it. You watched as his eyes scanned the contents, your heart in your mouth. If that wasn’t bad enough, the letter had then caught the attention of Eric's friend, who was sitting beside him. Your stomach dropped as his friend pulled the letter from Eric's grasp. 

"Hey what's this?" He asked, taking the note into his hands and reading it. A wicked smile spread across his face as he realised what it was and he called out for everyone's attention. It was your worst nightmare. The entire class burst into life as his friend started to read aloud your private thoughts, meant only for Jungkook, whose eyes had flickered over to you the moment his friend had started reading.

You didn’t want your words to be heard aloud so you grabbed your bag and ran out of the classroom, brushing past your teacher on her way in. She called after you but you couldn't hear her. You were mortified. You ran into the closest toilet and locked yourself into a stall and cried your heart out. By the time you finally picked yourself together and left, your eyes were bright red and swollen. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you didn’t care.

As you stepped out of the toilet, you were surprised to find someone waiting for you.  For a second you had thought it was Jungkook and your hopes soared, however it wasn’t him. It was the last person you wanted to see. Your blood boiled just looking at Eric and you didn't bother to wonder why he was there or if he was waiting for you. Instead you stormed up to him and jabbed a finger at him. "I hate you!" You shouted, putting all your anger and frustration and disappointment behind those three words. In the back of your mind you knew that Eric wasn't the one at fault here but you were so angry at the time that you couldn't see past your emotion. "You're nothing but a big fat idiot whose head is too big for your shoulders. I don't ever want to see you again. Stay away from me!". You barely managed to get the last words out before your voice broke and you choked back a sob. It was completely unfair. Why did he have to pick up the letter? Why didn't you just give it to Jungkook? Why didn't Jungkook stop them? Why?

--

"Are you okay there?" Eric asks, pulling you from your trance. You glance up at him and nod your head. What the hell is Eric doing here at your work? And why the hell is he wearing a company lanyard? It had been years since you had last seen him and he hadn't changed much, much to your chagrin. He still looked the same, the only difference was that he was now taller and a lot broader.

"I'm okay, thanks" you reply, avoiding eye contact. Just because you recognised Eric didn’t necessarily mean he recognised you. Perhaps there was a chance that he had forgotten all about what happened back then. 

“Fancy running into you here. Literally” And perhaps not. Lifting up your head, you prepare yourself for the awkward small talk that’s surely about to take place. Luckily, though, it appears that fate is on your side for once and you were both interrupted by Jungkook, who calls out Eric’s name as he approaches. You had never been more pleased to see Jungkook than you did at this moment.

Taking this as a window to escape, you swiftly excuse yourself and head back to your desk, consciously aware that their eyes were on you as you departed. It isn't until you get back to your desk and sit down that you remember why you had gotten up in the first place. Oh come on! You let out an exasperated sigh and glance back towards the direction in which you had just come. You didn't want to go back in case Jungkook and Eric were still there so you had no choice but to keep your shirt the way it is. Resigning yourself to your decision, you make a mental note to go back in thirty minutes.

--

Jungkook hadn't expected to find you and Eric together. He had gone downstairs to the reception desk with the intention to show Eric around the building, only to discover that Eric had gone ahead without him, which was typical behaviour. 

Since Jungkook had fired Manager Won, his HR team had been busy trying to find a suitable replacement, however there hadn't appeared to be any suitable candidates. Luckily for them though, Eric had recently resigned from his previous job and was up for the role, however looking at him now...Jungkook wasn't sure if it was luck. Eric's eyes remained in your direction, even long after you had disappeared from view and there was something about it that unnerved him. 

Eric was one of his best friends and he trusted him with his life. He was a great guy, who excelled at his work and was always there when Jungkook needed him. He also happened to have a reputation with women. It wasn’t that he was a playboy or anything or that he purposely lead women on, he just could never seem to commit to a relationship. 

"Don't even think about it, E". Jungkook says, before he even knows what he’s doing.

"Don’t even think about what?” Eric asks, glancing back to him. 

"You know what” For some inexplicable reason, he finds himself warning Eric to stay away from you “She's been through enough. She doesn't need you hitting on her. Don't cause her any problems". Jungkook made sure to put a heavy emphasis on the last words. 

Even though you never mentioned it him, Jungkook knew all about the rumours that had been circling around the office when you had first started. 

--

He had been on his way out of a meeting with his managers and head of staff when manager Choi had pulled him aside. Once the coast was clear and manager Choi was sure they were out of listening range, he bent forward and whispered in hushed tones. "I know you don't have much care for office gossip but I thought you might want to know about this”.

It wasn’t the first time that there were rumours circling around about him, so this wasn’t anything new to Jungkook. Normally he would just ignore them, as he always did however since this concerned you, his interest was peaked and he had to get to the bottom of it “What gossip?” 

“There's a few rumours circling around that you offered her the job purely because the two of you are romantically involved. So there's been a bit of unrest amongst some of the employees because they feel it's unfair practice, not that the rumours are true or anything".

People were unbelievable. Didn’t they have anything better to do with their time? Jungkook thinks to himself, refraining himself from rolling his eyes "How long have these rumours be going around for?"

"Almost two weeks now".

Two weeks? If these rumours have been going around the office for two weeks now then he had no doubt that they had reached you. A familiar sense of protectiveness washes over Jungkook. Once again, you were at the centre of a rumour, all because of him and once again, he was determined to put a stop to it.

You never knew it, but Jungkook had stopped his friend from reading the rest of your letter. The truth was that Jungkook had wanted to stop him as soon as he had opened his mouth, but he had been so shocked by your words that he couldn't move. It wasn't until you had ran past him and he had gotten a glimpse of your teary eyes that his body finally sprang into action and his fist connected with his friends jaw. If it wasn't for Eric holding him back, he probably would have been suspended.

All these years you had assumed he was the asshole who did nothing and Jungkook never corrected you. He was an asshole. Your confession had caught him off guard and he knew that there was no way he could return your feelings, as much as he wanted to. No matter how much you had drifted apart these past few months, you were still his good friend. Sadly though, that was all he saw you as. Rather than hurt you, Jungkook had taken the easy way out.

--

It was strange. It wasn’t like Jungkook to warn Eric off women. In fact, this was probably the first time he had ever done it. Hell, Jungkook didn’t even warn Eric to stay away from Mina, before or during the time they had been dating.

As Eric carefully observes Jungkook's reaction, it all starts to make sense. He finally understood now why Jungkook had been insistent that he waited at reception for him. 

Wanting to put his dear friend out of his misery, Eric decides to interject and change the subject “Alright, alright, I won’t cause any drama” He assures Jungkook, with his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. “Now can you please give me a proper tour of this place? I’m dying to go to the bathroom”.

--

You were dying.

As soon as you got home you were going to throw these heels into the bin. You don't care how expensive they were, they were the most uncomfortable thing in the world. All day you had struggled, waddling around the office awkwardly on the balls of your feet, to avoid putting pressure on the blisters that were forming on the sides of your heels. You couldn't wait to get home and soak your feet into some cold water and elevate them. That is, if you made it home.

"Alright, see you tomorrow" your work friend throws a wave over his shoulder and heads off in the opposite direction. You watch him stroll away casually, envious of his flat shoes. Men had it so easy. If you were to wear flat shoes your calves would look like the size of unbaked hams, but with the state of your feet at the current time, you saw that you might not have an option. It would be flats for the unforeseeable future, until these blisters healed. 

Walking to and from your desk had already taken a toll on your feet so you mentally prepare yourself for the five minute walk to the station. As you walk, in order to keep your mind off the pain, you sort through your closet, in your mind and try to put together an outfit for work tomorrow. It is as you are trying to find a blouse to pair with your navy pencil skirt when Eric approaches you. You don't realise he's beside you until you hear your name being called and when you do, you jump back slightly, startled. 

"Oh my god, you scared me" You gasp, placing a steady hand over your heart. You glance around you. What the hell does Eric want? After your run in, Jungkook had officially introduced Eric to the rest of the team and your heart almost dropped into your stomach when you found out that he was going to be your new manager. It was the worst possible luck. You had managed to successfully avoid him for the remainder of the day and avoid another awkward encounter but you couldn't bet on it to last. Sooner or later you would have to face him. You just didn't think soon meant now.

"Sorry for scaring you". He smiles charmingly at you, emphasizing the dimple on his right cheek. "I called out your name but you were zoned out". 

“Oh, uh yeah. I do that sometimes..." He was as charming as always and you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed. There were three types of girls in your high school. Girls that had it bad for Jungkook, girls that didn't and girls that had it bad for Eric. Unfortunately you fell under the former...and the latter. Before the incident and before Jungkook, you had a major crush on Eric. Then again who could blame you, after all Eric was impossible to resist with his sparkling eyes, unruly brown locks that never seemed to stay tamed no matter what products he used and his dimple. How could anyone resist that dimple? It was his get-out-of jail free card and he knew it. Whenever he would get in trouble, all he had to do was bat his large eyes and flash that dimple. God, why couldn't he have gained a beer belly or developed male pattern baldness?

"-are you spacing out again?”

You catch the last of Eric's sentence and realise that he had been talking the entire time. A blush creeps onto your face and you give him an apologetic smile. "Sorry" you mutter, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

"No it's fine, I interrupted you" he waves off your apology. "It looked like something important, feel free to go back to it. I don't mind"

"Oh, no it's okay. It wasn't really anything important..." 

"Are you sure? Because I'd hate to pull you from any fantasies you were having, especially if they were about me". You almost choke on your saliva at his comment. Of all the possible replies, you had not been expecting that. 

You regard him incredibly and almost shake your head at his conceitedness. If it was anyone else who had said that, you would've rolled your eyes and immediately walked away however there was something about Eric that gave him a friendly vibe and you knew that his words were harmless. If memory serves you correct, he had always been full of himself. 

"Wow you really haven't changed at all have you?" You note aloud with a chuckle. "Still completely in love with yourself".

Eric regards you with a smug expression and raises one of his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, someone once said my head was too big for my shoulders".

Your smile drops immediately and the humour leaves your body. You had always regretted what you had said to Eric in the heat of the moment. Once you had gotten home and slept on it you had realised that what happened with the letter wasn’t Eric’s fault. You had always wanted to apologise to him and clear the air but you could never summon up the courage and before you knew it, time had flown by and you had graduated and gone your separate ways.

You must have had a deep expression on your face because the next thing you know, Eric is jumping in and changing the subject. "Are you heading to the station?” He asks, out of the blue. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Join me? 

"Umm..." You barely have enough time to process his request when he continues talking.

"It's just this is my first day and I'm not one hundred percent familiar with this place and I'm heading to the station too". He flashes you a smile as he delivers his pitch, but you don’t buy it completely. You were still skeptical and wary as to why he was even here, speaking to you right now.

"Then how did you get to work today?" You ask suspiciously, trying to catch him off guard but he counters right away with a response.

"I took an uber" he replies smoothly.

There’s that damn dimple again. As much as you wanted to decline, the truth was you didn't see any harm coming from walking to the station with Eric. 

"Fine" you reply with a sigh. "I'll show you where the station is".

“Great!" His smile widens and you know then that you've completely fallen for his ploy, whatever it may be.

"Don't get too excited. Wait until you see the station". 

As you both walk, Eric strikes up a casual conversation about the company, which you're incredibly greatly for. It’s incredibly surprising because earlier you had been scared of having awkward small talk with him but as it turns out, it was easy talking to Eric. He was great at steering the conversation and it flowed effortlessly. It was strange because even though the two of you had gone to high school together, this was he first proper conversation that the two of you have had. He asks about the environment and the dynamic of the team, telling you that he's thinking of having a member training event to help get to know everyone better. 

"I think that's a good idea" you focus on keeping your voice steady and your face from wincing as you try to ignore the stinging pain in your feet. You had been trying to ignore the pain but it was getting a bit too much and if that wasn't bad enough, Eric was a whole head taller than you and his legs were much longer than yours, which meant that you had to practically speed walk to match his pace. "I'm sure the rest of the team will really appreciate it". 

"I've been meaning to ask. Are you alright?" Eric asks, coming to a sudden halt 

You glance up at him in confusion, not sure of his meaning. "Eh?” 

"I've noticed that you've been limping" he gestures down to your feet. "Not just now, but all day today. Did you hurt your foot somehow?”

You widen your eyes and stare at him, momentarily loss for words. You couldn't believe that he had noticed. "Not really, it's just my heels. As cute as they are, they've given me blisters so it's a bit hard to walk". You lift up the heel of your foot and show him the side where, sure enough, a nasty red blister has formed. 

Eric grimaces at the sight of your foot. "It looks painful". 

“Yeah but what can I do? I don't really want to walk around barefooted" you shrug your shoulders and play down how sore your feet actually were.  

Eric isn't quite convinced and he glances down at your feet with a weighted expression. After a few minutes of thinking, he opens his mouth and mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot similar to "this won't do" but you're not one hundred percent sure and before you get the chance to ask him, he find him crouching down and turning his back to you. "Hop on" he orders casually, staring straight ahead. 

"Wait what?" You ask in disbelief, not trusting your ears. 

"Hop on. I'll piggyback you to the station".

"Uh, no that's okay. Honestly my feet don't hurt that much-"

He shoots you a pointed look from over his shoulder. "Come on, stop being so stubborn. Trust me, I grew up with sisters so I know how bad blisters can get if you keep walking on them. Sometimes they don’t heal for weeks". 

You couldn't really argue with him there because he had a point. Still, you couldn't let Eric piggyback you so you try make one more attempt to deter him. "I'm really heavy". You tell him but Eric just simply chuckles and shakes his head. 

"Don’t worry, I'm very confident in my strength and besides I piggyback my grandma all the time and you don't look that much heavier than her". You're not sure how you feel about being compared to his grandma but it seems there's no getting through to this man, so you reluctantly give in. 

This is crazy. You think to yourself. If your thirteen year old self could see you now, she would probably squeal in delight. “I’m serious, I’m heavy”. You warn him again, giving him one last chance to change his mind. “Like…really heavy”

“I know, I know, now come on. Quit stalling” Even though you can’t see his face, you can hear the eye-roll in his voice.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you” You tug the bottom of your skirt down, thankful that your skirt was mid-length and carefully lean forward, slowly placing your weight onto his back.  As you lift your arms and wrap them around his broad shoulders, you ignore the scent of his cologne and the fluttering in your stomach as his hands grasp the back of your knees.

“Ready?” Eric asks and you nod your head in affirmation, not trusting your voice. “Okay, one, two three-UGH!” He lets out a painful loud gasp and your body jerks in concerned panic.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask him, worriedly. “Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?” You try to stretch your neck forward to see his face and see if he’s alright.

“It’s just…you weren’t joking when you said you were heavy”. He chokes out in a strained voice and your face immediately turns red in embarrassment.

“I-I told you I wasn’t light” You snap at him. So much for being confident in his strength. If he was going to react like this, then he never should have offered. “You know what. Put me down” You demand, feeling incredibly insecure and offended. “I can walk”. 

You start to wiggle free but stop when Eric suddenly bursts out in laughter. “What’s so funny?” you ask him, even though you have a slight idea of what it might be.

"I'm joking with you" he admits in between laughter.

"A joke?" "Yeah. I was just messing with you. You're not heavy at all. In fact you're a lot lighter than my grandma".

You stare at the back of his head incredibly, unable to believe the nerve of this guy. A joke? He had the balls to make a joke and laugh at you when you were actually genuinely worried that something had happened to him? You feel like a complete idiot. Raising one of your hands, you smack him loudly on the back and give him a piece of your mind. "You ass! That wasn't funny at all!" You scold him and throw in a few more smacks but rather than deterring him, it only makes him laugh more. 

"Stop laughing!" You hit him two more times. "Put me down". 

"Ow, ow, ow woman stop" Eric says in between bouts of laughter as he tries to dodge your hits. "You're going to bruise me"

"Good!" You hit him again for emphasis. You knew he was messing around again because there was no way you were hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise.  

"Ow, I said I was sorry. Now stop wriggling around or else I’m going to drop you”

“You wouldn’t dare” you gasp as you stop moving. 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t”. For some reason you don’t buy his words at all. Something tells you that Eric would gladly drop you if he had the chance. “Plus, Jungkook would kill me if anything happened to you”.

At the mention of Jungkook, you instantly perk up slightly.

“He would?” You prod, nonchalantly, making sure to keep your voice from sounding too interested. Had Jungkook said something to Eric about you? “What makes you say that?” 

“Because you’re like a sister to him”

No seven words had ever made your heart sink faster than these seven words. A sister? You repeat the word in your head. A sister? Did Jungkook actually see you as a sister? The possibility of it bothers you more than you would like to admit and you can’t shake the sudden hollow feeling in your stomach.

Your disappointment must have been noticeable because Eric turns his head to the side and checks in on you. “Are you alright?” He asks, his voice laced with a hint of worry.

Am I? 

"Yeah I’m fine” You lie and change the subject, steering the conversation away from Jungkook, when you notice that you were close to the station. “You can put me down now, here should be fine. I can walk the rest of the way”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind. I’m getting a killer workout” You can’t help but feel incredibly touched by Eric’s thoughtfulness and as much as you want to remain off your feet, people were starting to stare and give you weird looks.

“Yeah, besides people are starting to stare” You nod your head discreetly to the small group of teenagers standing outside the station, who were eyeing you both and whispering to each other. 

Eric follows your line of sight towards the teenagers. “Oh, don’t worry, they’re not staring at you” He assures you, surprisingly. “They’re staring at me” His voice is full of cockiness and you roll your eyes and fight back a smile, finally growing accustomed to his sense of humour. 

“Sure they are, hotshot” you roll your eyes at him.

A silence falls between the two of you as Eric walks you over to your stop. Deciding that there was no time but the present, you decide that now would be the right time to apologise to Eric about what you had said to him back in high school. 

 “I’m sorry, Eric”. You mumble, softly, finally glad to have the words said aloud and off your chest.

“Oh, don’t worry. Your hits were weak, I doubt they even left a mark”. You roll your eyes at him again. Way to ruin a moment.

“That’s not what I was talking about” You correct him, letting your meaning linger in the air. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. It wasn’t your fault”.

There’s a heavy moment of silence and you half expect Eric to make another joke and so you prepare yourself for it but thankfully he doesn’t. 

“You don’t have to apologise” he says and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. You were glad that he wasn’t joking for once and that he was taking this seriously. 

“...but you might have to explain to my girlfriend why there’s scratch marks on my back” So much for being serious. 

Your face breaks out into a smile and you can’t help but laugh.

--

As Jungkook pulls up to the red light in his car, he loosened his tie and unfastens the first two buttons of his shirt. It had been a long, mentally draining day, what with showing Eric around the office and then having to deal with an unforeseen emergency. Not to mention his grandfather had been blowing up his phone all afternoon. 

Turning his head to the side, to stretch out the sore muscles in his neck, something catches his attention from the corner of his vision. He turns just in time to see Eric carrying you before the light turns green and the car behind him honks their horn.

What the hell were you doing with Eric?

To be Continued  

[aimeesuzara]

The Body in Bloom, or Adventures in Shape-Shifting. PregBlog#3

I grew up constantly worried about my weight.  What preteen or teen girl doesn’t? And I gained a lot of it.  And I lost a lot of it. Convinced I was getting “fat,” (though, not only coincidentally, I was entering womanhood), I went on my first diet when I was 11.  I used diet books, counted calories in a little journal, measuring each scoop of peanut butter and each bite of rice cake.  I was not actually “fat”; I was getting boobs and hips and curves, but that fact was lost on me.  (To add: In our rather-militaristic Houston, TX PE class someone had measured my BMI and said it was higher than average, though I think I weighed about 110, ran a decent mile and won the sit-up contest; they also fanatically measured us for scoliosis and sent many of us home with confusing results. Come to think of it, I also got braces for my incorrect bite shortly after I got glasses for my bad eyes -- adolescence is a time of measurement).  Clearly, I had not been exposed to what good curves could be, thinking that lanky and straight (and also, not coincidentally, white) was my dream aesthetic.  This was the late 80s, an era for tracksuits, jogging, Lean Cuisines, diet sodas and no-butter in favor of margarine (the kind later to be found to be very bad).  Instead of enjoying what was the beautiful blossoming of my body, I was set on preventing it, and I’m pretty sure the calorie restriction wasn’t awesome for my metabolism.

Fast-forward to the last three years of high school, when I actually did gain extra weight.  This time, I owe it to a little-more-than typical teen angst and insecurity — I hid behind baggy tee-shirts as I let my body pack on a safe and protective layer.  Not seeing others like me in a markedly un-diverse town and having moved around the country 5 times by the age of 16, I ate weird s**it like coolwhip and tortillas: comfort food.  This was the Mohave Desert east of Los Angeles and I can also blame the desert, the arid, treeless, waterless place that yielded far too many suicides and drug addictions along with a subculture of weirdo outcasts indulging in our melancholia.  The conservative, culture-less and very-basic Catholic School with only a sprinkle of electives was run by jocks, cheerleaders and priests, and I rebelled by wearing Dad’s blazers and thrift-store oddities, often oversized and masculine. I hid behind a curtain of angle-cut hair and remember hating looking at mirrors, turning my face as though seeing myself would release the boogey-man. I also felt just about as equally “person” as girl, enjoying a bit of the androgynous.

Leaping forward at least two decades, I’m a healthy, active, in-between-sized, femme-presenting Filipina woman in her early 40s who loves her own body but still fights fears of gaining too much weight, “losing it” or “falling apart.”  After all, after 40, heck, after 35, aren’t we supposed to just go “downhill” or certainly “over the hill”? Aren’t we told we’re less desireable?  As our metabolism often naturally does slow down in our 30s, I have accepted the 5-10 extra pounds that has become part of my norm, despite being active and health-conscious.  I recognize my privileges as looking younger than my years, and yet because I didn’t grow up feeling pretty and got little romantic attention (from any gender) until mid-college — I don’t take my late-blooming for granted.  I still fear all the things we women get conditioned to, as we age: wrinkles and blemishes, uncontrollable weight gain, tiredness, declining flexibility or mobility.  The media is obsessed with youth and thinness, even if we are not.  Let’s add that there’s not a lot of representation of a gracefully-aging woman of color.

Now add: becoming pregnant.  Ha! All of the above on my list, bring them on, hormones and blooming belly!  Let’s start with “wrinkles,” one you may not expect: I normally have pretty unwrinkled skin (thanks to melanin/genes), but beginning my first trimester, I both got acne breakouts AND itchy patches/wrinkles under my eyes at once.  As someone joked with me, it’s a little like being an old teenager....who’s pregnant.

Weight gain — well, we can’t avoid that, and shouldn’t.  A pregnant woman at average gains about 25-35 lbs during pregnancy, give or take, some more, some less. The amniotic fluid, extra blood volume, body mass, and the baby itself must increase; we literally grow to provide the baby nutrients.   I’m in the late-second trimester, said to be the fun time when your energy returns, first-trimester nuisances calm down, and you get used to being pregs. It’s a time when you can revel in not having to explain weight gain to people who are asking themselves, “is she?”  The belly announces itself now, loudly, not in a whisper.  I had a major growth spurt between about week 17-21; my belly felt like a taut balloon being pushed out from the inside.  “Hold on now!” I felt like telling it.  On the outside it seemed all of sudden, I was like, “boom!” Going swimming in a bikini with the melon-belly was fun.

What I love about this time is being more aware of the sense of a person sharing my body, this tumbling, squirming, peddling being.  The Week-20 full anatomical sonogram leads to relief for many, since we can check on all the major organs and parts.  In mine, he nearly waved at us and did all kinds of what I’ll call dance moves since he has a dancer mommy. Seeing all of this correlating with the sensation confirms that indeed, I was feeling fetal movement, not just imagining things.  Until about Week 17, I was still waking up thinking it had all been a dream. Now, not so.  

I’m not yet at the point of feeling so heavy I’m lumbering, or hurting, but I have those possibilities to look forward to.  Picking things up and tying my shoes is already weird to say the least, and I imagine myself even less able to bend once the baby occupies even more room. 

It’s a new kind of learning to love my body.  And all of this has been to say that I’m used to the ebbs and flows; I pay attention not because I have always felt good in my skin, but because I haven’t.  I have learned that strength and stamina are important qualities of feeling beautiful, more than how we “look” on the outside …our beauty comes from how we feel (I tried to avoid the cliche, but now I have to say it: it comes from within).  And I feel so in love with this little fish sharing this body with me that I’m sure that the love shows on my (wrinkled, acne-d but glowing) face.  

The body in bloom for the pregnant woman is the body shapeshifting, because unlike a flower, I won’t bloom and then wither; I’ll keep changing as the body does, pregnant or not.  I hear from mommies that postpartum bodies are still changing and it is not easy, nor the same for everyone.  Rather than focus on going “back” to normal, just as in aging we have to accept that we cannot go “back” to our youth— I want to look forward to continually changing, growing new senses, new awareness, new ways of being in the body and in the world. And becoming a parent will be a shapeshifting journey to last many years more.