#SOMEONE JUST POINTED OUT A JUDGEMENT TRACK..... I FORGOT THE JUDGEMENTS.....

[hminnj]

Unckuna/reader (he's very dear to my heart), mostly uncle nephew banter tbh, i needa get dividers lowkey, very short lil drabble

-

Sukuna thinks he's lost his mind.

He means it figuratively, obviously. But at this point he's sure he should've physically lost it already.

His nephew- of which he is currently babysitting- is currently on his couch, not a care in the world, half empty family sized bag of chips that was unopened not too long ago (fatface), kicking his feet like an adolescent boy in love, greasy fingers on the remote, and scrolling through youtube shorts on the tv???

Oh and worst of all he forgot to mention, the brat is wearing shoes.

The fact that he's even related to this thing makes him want to kill everyone else in the room and then himself.

"Itadori Yuji..." Sukuna seethes, it takes everything in him to not rip the brat's skeleton right out of his skin. He thinks it would be easy, if only a certain three people would let him (a shame, truly).

Yuji spares him a glance (the disrespect).

"Oh whats up unc"

"And what do you think you're doing?" The older of the two walks over and blocks the view of the tv, glaring down with his hands on his hips.

Yuji stares for a moment before opening his stupid food hole (as Sukuna describes it), "Have you ever seen that one meme, no one looks good from below? Well you're the version where they-"

Sukuna promptly picks him up by his foot, shaking him as a few chip bits fall off Yuji's shirt, "I literally just cleaned the house you freeloading fiend. Have you seen what a mess you've made?"

"You clean the house everyday you freak. Now put me down! I swear I was gonna clean up afterwards anyways." Yuji attempts to wiggle his way out of Sukuna's grip, he gets nowhere (predictably).

"Brat. You don't even know where the vacuum is, were you planning on picking them up one by one?"

"Ugh you're such a housewife, if I didn't know any better I'd assume you- MMM"

The sound of the code being put into the front door quickly stops Sukuna who shoves his free hand into Yuji's face, effectively shutting him up as well.

Sukuna grins when he sees you walk in, holding Yuji as if he were a first place catch for the annual bass fishing competition.

The sight makes you pause and contemplate your life decisions.

"Sukuna... put Yuji down, all the blood's rushing to his head."

Yuji is dropped immediately.

"OWWWWWWWW"

Your eyes trail around the living space and then back to the two children, "Does someone want to explain what's happening? And why there are shoe tracks in my house?" You make eye contact with your husband (who practically regresses 15 years in age when your nephew is around), he looks at you then uses his middle finger to point at Yuji.

Said boy, still recovering on the floor, whines, "Mann why can't I have a cool wine aunt and normal uncle?"

"Yuji if I were a wine aunt I wouldn't even be your aunt. Now are you gonna clean up this mess or should I make you?"

"On it! Whatever you say ma'am!" Yuji scrambles away after saluting and then pops back up from the hallway, realizing something crucial.

"Where are the cleaning supplies again?"

You sigh.

.

Yuji's finished with cleaning when he joins (intrudes, in Sukuna's words) you and his uncle on the couch, another episode of criminal minds running in the background.

You've changed from your work clothes into something more comfortable, snuggled into Sukuna's side as you start, "You know, if Spencer existed in real life I'd consider leaving you for him."

The tattooed man can only cringe in disgust at your behavior, "We're literally married, woman. You would leave me for that??"

He gives you and the tv an incredulous look. You can only giggle at his reaction, "You're like a child sometimes." His disapproval worsens, and you consider continuing to tease him but go with your better judgement (before he decides not to cook dinner, even though he always does anyways).

"I'm sorry hubby, forgive me?" Sukuna scoffs but accepts the affection anyways, he always does.

Yuji's voice interrupts the moment, "Ew you guys are so nasty (his parents are way worse), but speaking of children... when am I gonna get a cousin?"

The young boy can only watch as you two glance at each other then back at him, casually dropping an "Oh, Soon" then moving on completely. It takes him a second to process.

"WHAT."

-

unckuna my love

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated :]

thank you for reading, have a blessed week

not fully proofread or edited

[xiao-zhen]

LMK Incorrect Quotes (plus RFR)

but as stuff that happened irl in my group chat

________________________________________________

Xiaozhen: Coward. face. the. smile.

________________________________________________

Wukong: With all due respect

Xiaozhen: - Which is none

Macaque: You saying I don't deserve respect, Xiaozhen?

Xiaozhen: From Wukong? Highly unlikely

________________________________________________

Wukong, trying to make a point: Wanna see my search history?

Mei: Yes

Wukong: . . .

Wukong: Forgot I have it on not to save. . .

Mei: Sketchy

Wukong: When I look up how to make a grenade. I don't want people seeing it.

Mei: . . .

___________________________________________________

Wukong: I'm setting Tang up with an Amish chick.

Tang: Please don't

Wukong: Why? you racist or smth

Tang: Technically the Amish aren't a race, they're more of a religion.

Wukong: Religion-ist

____________________________________________________

Xiaozhen, wearing a shirt Macaque got her:

Shirt says: I talk big game for someone whose feet don't touch the ground when I sit in a chair

Wukong: You do

___________________________________________________

Xiaozhen: Bruh. . . I'm outside eating dunkin' Donuts avocado toast in the car and a girl comes out and gives me the most judgemental look ever.

Wukong: Because you look 11.

Xiaozhen, ignores him: I just stared her down looking at her with no expression and slowly took a bite in front of her. I chose violence.

Wukong: Doesn't change the fact you look 11.

Xiaozhen, finally decides to acknowledge it: I see. So you chose violence today too.

____________________________________________________

Wukong: Icant read :'{ (yes I added in the typo)

Macaque: We know

Wukong: You could've just ignored me

Macaque: I know I could've but I chose not to

____________________________________________________

Wukong: - I was told that's rude

Xiaozhen: By what

Xiaozhen: Your conscience?

Xiaozhen: That doesn't talk to you very often

Xiaozhen: Or the other "conscience" either Mk or Tang Sanzhang in the back of your mind.

Wukong: . . .

Wukong: . . . I was told it's rude

Wukong: You calling me incapable of right vs wrong

Xiaozhen: You saying I'm saying that

Wukong: Yes

Wukong: And you are right

Wukong: . . . Probably

____________________________________________________

Wukong: I would never hit a woman

Mk and Mei: That's highly questionable

Wukong: Unless I feel like it

___________________________________________________

Sandy: I have this habit tracking app you can share with people to keep you accountable

___________________________________________________

Mk: What's everyone dressing up as today?

Wukong: A sad lonely depressed man

Xiaozhen, Nezha and Macaque in synch: You don't need to dress up for that

Wukong: You don't need to rub it in

___________________________________________________

Mei: I just ran with a sharp knife

___________________________________________________

For those wondering. Xiaozhen is literally me in the gc

[hypermoyashi]

Chapters 8-10 of my re-read of Trimax done! And man, these were some fun chapters. The Rai-Dei fight was so fun. A samurai on roller skates is an absolutely cracked idea, I love it. I forgot about the roller skates honestly, lol.

But, of course, the most interesting part comes at the end, when Vash wins and Rai-Dei revs up to shoot him in the back. Wolfwood intervenes then after staying out of the fight, killing Rai-Dei to save Vash, and then we get a classic Vashwood fight.

The clash of worldviews is always really interesting between those two--Vash is upset because he insists he'd just have dodged, that it wasn't for certain Rai-Dei was planning on firing based on the position of the blade, and that the killing wasn't necessary. Wolfwood's point is that it's better to take people out before they can hurt others, to rid the world of evil permanently, while Vash's point is that you can never be certain if you take away a person's capability of changing. Wolfwood even tries to goad Vash into taking his life, which Vash refuses to do, of course.

More under the cut!

I do find it interesting that Wolfwood comments Vash taking his life would be a fair price to pay, for breaking Vash out of his no-killing stubbornness. I think, from Wolfwood's perspective, he knows how powerful Vash is, and he knows how good Vash is, too. So if only Vash would actually kill his opponents, he'd probably be able to do a lot more good in the world, in Wolfwood's eyes, including being capable of killing Knives. He also doesn't see himself as any better than the Gun-Go Guns, that the world is better off if Vash just killed him. He also calls Vash a hypocrite, for wanting to save everyone but not being willing to dirty his own hands to do it--basically, saying he talks a big game about saving people but won't do what's necessary to get it done.

Meanwhile, Vash just fundamentally disagrees that it's impossible to save people without killing. He knows it's harder, but he thinks it's worth the price, worth the scars--because to him, everyone has the capacity for good, and everyone can change. He's not worthy of casting final judgement on them, in his eyes. And he feels the same about Wolfwood. He alludes back to their first meeting, when Wolfwood comments that Vash looks better with a genuine smile, saying that the same was true of Wolfwood. He's trying to play the devil while he secretly wants to be anything but.

It's just a very interesting clash of ideologies, because at their core, Vash and Wolfwood have gone through so much and are both fundamentally good people, but their desire to save others is the same. Wolfwood is just scared to hope and scared to trust, so he makes snap judgements about people because he thinks he's better off safe than sorry. He doesn't trust others to change. Whereas for Vash, it's not about trust--he just doesn't know whether or not someone will change for sure, and so long as there's a possibility of them changing for the better, he won't take that chance away from them. Wolfwood is incredibly risk-averse, while Vash takes those risks head on and accepts the risks involved (taking them on himself, if possible). It's just all so very interesting, and they have such a compelling dynamic.

We also got some short scenes of Meryl and Milly!!! Which is so exciting! They're back at the job and tracking Wolfwood and Vash down, and I'm very happy to have the two of them back.

[amazingmsme]

i had more headcanons for polites and elpenor but i got sick and forgot to send them so here u go <3

polites has always felt really sad about elpenor joining the war at such a young age, and it just gets worse as he watches elpenor slowly get older. so whenever elpenor is up to his usual shenanigans polites will actively encourage it most of the time, since he thinks he deserves to have some fun and act like a child again

it’s become sort of a rule on the ship to never send polites and elpenor out on missions together without at least one other person there to supervise, cause chances are it will end in chaos. they’re just both too silly

imagine after elpenor’s death on circe’s island, he ends up in the underworld all sad and alone thinking nobody cared about him, and then he eventually bumps into polites who the first thing he does upon seeing him is give him the biggest hug

polites has always been a very affectionate person with his friends, but he amps it up with elpenor to mess with him. either with physical affection like hugs or hair ruffles or whatever, or with verbal affection like giving him nicknames or hyping him up whenever he does literally anything. and elpenor acts all “ugh stop it you’re embarrassing me >:(“ cause he doesn’t wanna admit that he actually likes the affection

if elpenor gets himself hurt doing something dumb and needs help patching himself up then he usually goes to polites, cause he knows polites won’t get all that mad at him

these two are constantly launching tickle attacks on each other but since they’re both two most easiest people to beat in a tickle fight on ship they’re always teaming up with each other to take down someone else. they’ve come up with some kind of secret code or signal for it at this point

i love these two a lot - 🌙

XBLXBRFMBSKABF THEY’RE MY LIL SKRUNGLIES OK THEY’RE SO CUTE & SILLY I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUUUUUCH!!!

Oh Polites is so used to aiding & abetting Odysseus with all their shenanigans growing up, & he doesn’t want the fun to stop! He knows for a fact everyone else got to go get into trouble when they were young, & he doesn’t want Elpenor to miss out! & it’s a good excuse to go have some fun

& everyone learned that lesson the hard way because wtf it’s been 3 hours it does NOT take that long to do a simple scouting mission & return back to the ship. They probably just found a waterfall or something & decided to cool off for “just 10 minutes” but they lost track of time because it’s just so pretty & the water felt so nice “well I’m glad you 2 enjoyed your swim, we all thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere”

Sadly we won’t get to see this in the fic because I make the rules & he’s alive because I say so. But in the canon universe he’d be so frightened & alone & feel heartbroken over his abandonment, but then he hears a familiar voice & turns to see the most comforting face he knows. & he just collapses in his arms & sobs because how did their lives come to this? 🥺



POLITES IS THE #1 HYPE MAN FRRR! He’ll whoop & cheer you on like he’s at the fucking colosseum or something & he really hams it up for Elpenor! He wants to make him smile & not take things so seriously because he doesn’t want him to loose that playful childish spark he has. So he’ll hail his accomplishments & praise him whenever he can because positive encouragement is the best motivator. I can just see them like “WHOOOO YEAH! Go Elpenor!” & Elpenor is just standing in the middle of the deck blushing like “… I just tied a knot…” yeah but it’s a pretty tough knot you just learned & you got it on the first try. Give yourself some credit bb

I think when most people get hurt, they go to Polites to patch up because they know he’s got a gentle touch & goes out of his way not to hurt you in the process, & it always sparks a good conversation. But for Elpenor, who always ends up hurting himself while doing something stupid, he really appreciates the judgement & lecture free atmosphere

These 2 are such lil giggle bugs I swear! They’re pretty evenly matched in a tickle fight, so it’s always a toss up on who wins. But it’s a decent way to pass the time on slow days. But they’re the most notorious tag team on the ship simply because of how often they strike, & how random it seems. But if you suddenly find yourself sandwiched between them & they’re acting too casual or buddy buddy with you, just know you’re about to get your shit wrecked

[f0point5]

His reasoning is solid, if I were her I wouldn’t want to alienate him just so that I could basically be a single parent while he travels 28 weeks of the year. If you want a child with someone, you want it with them. I can’t see the downside for her in waiting until he’s ready. //

Of course maxs reasoning is solid. He wants to be a parent and see the moments happen in real life not through photos and videos.

And please Kelly wouldn’t be a single mum. The nannies would be single mothers to two kids. Kelly leaves p behind all the time to follow max around the world and play influencer/model.

Max might not want kids right away when he leaves f1. He said he wants to build his own team in other categories. Maybe he wants to enjoy his free time and go travel and do things for him like eat whatever and how much he wants for a while.

Oh wait I forgot Kelly doesn’t want max to eat and enjoy himself just remember the no no no or her fat shaming herself just in December. I don’t even want to think about how controlling she will be to max let alone her own daughter.

The downside for her waiting would be her age. And even if they would do ivf or surrogate (don’t know how the legal situation is in France/Monaco with that) it is still very much high risk. She is already in the zone to switching over to higher risk with her age. The „quality“ of her eggs is already declining. That’s science. And yes I feel very weird talking about her this way. And I mean max wants to wait even longer she will be well into her 40s.

I’m only posting this to remind everyone how much of an ICK I get from judgemental and misogynistic people.

Kelly “leaves her daughter behind” all the time…but no mention of P’s father, who also travels for much of the year. Because it’s only the mother’s responsibility to be constantly present, right?

And of course you know for sure that P never accompanies Kelly to GP weekends (even if not to the track) in Europe. You know for sure that Kelly is not attending these GPs/events during Daniil’s custody time. Because you know everyone involved and their schedule, right?

People are wayyy too comfortable coming in my inbox for this bs rhetoric. This is NOT a safe space to be disrespectful and disparaging about the private lives of people you don’t know. The para social bond isn’t what you think it is.

I’m not even going to comment on the rubbish you crossed out because even you didn’t quite want to say it out loud 🙄

I know people are coming into the inbox with rage bait at this point because anyone who has seen me respond to asks about this sort of stuff before will know I don’t appreciate this kind of chat.

[jacksmysterylabyrinth]

Roundup for Chapter 2, then.

Lost track of some details again because my head tends to wander off. Though the stupid thing is before I went on my suspicion of Kurumi again, before we even got to the raised area, I was about to make that silly Red Dwarf quote as a post but I plain forgot about it. But I did predict ‘they all did it’. I have no way to prove that though hdjfghfdjghj

The Investigation was really fun. Setting aside the horrible pervy-comic-relief from Desuhiko (especially THAT one...), it was great getting different perspectives of everyone depending on your disguise. And bringing the moral dilemma of ‘paranormal investigation’ into this is a plus, too. It was also really entertaining. This is fresh and fun stuff

I was expecting a bit more from Karen’s character, not gonna lie- in the end it was all about the girls banding up against her, but it feels like a terribly wasted angle when in the ML she turned into that burning witch and tried to convince others that she committed suicide. Seriously, if you’re gonna bring that in, at least get to what the argument was about and why it led to violence. The girls could have known something

This is where casting ‘judgement’ is really starting to get especially tricky. High schoolers who were backed into a wall by people who refused to enact justice, are all being killed in one go. I’m not so sure about everything Shinigami was saying about it, because as much as she waxes about ‘truth above justice’ it’s as if she gets in on the ‘justice’ thing just as much, from the way she acts about the executions. Honestly, I think that’s a matter of ‘you’re in the labyrinth now, this is the only way to get out’- but it’s all one big metaphor too, that much is obvious. Hrm

I really enjoyed this Labyrinth in particular- the changing-perspective thing was especially cool, using the environment in order to make that work. It just goes to show that tunnel - or hall - vision can end up blinding you to the other paths. Just like what happened in this case...

Desuhiko really did pull through despite being... yeah. Getting to connecting paths is smart intuition. Looking for connections in the fog, past the smoke and mirrors. Heeeh...

Well. Of course there are supernatural experiments! I kinda figured there would be, already. Was Yuma the result of them hahahaha

It seems Yuma really got extraordinarily lucky with Kurumi chasing him down. Then again her being an informant, this checks out

With that rather pointed comment from Vivian, I wonder if the next partner will be him. He could make for a particularly interesting one- at least his commentary has seemed really topical up til now

Happy to see one of the church squad again! Even if it’s minor, seeing Nun with a new sprite was really nice

That side-story about the grieving boyfriend is especially tricky- snapping someone out of a state like that isn’t so simple, but then leaving it to stay as it is doesn’t seem right either. Have to think of circumstances carefully when you decide a lie is better

Halara’s thing about deception being necessary, and now Desuhiko’s Forte being about disguises and coercing the truth out of people, curious follow-up on the theme...

I’m really rather glad that Kurumi wasn’t the actual culprit in the end, even though it could have gone that way with the misdirection thing. The three grieving and acting girls in the end turned out to be a greater answer to the theme, particularly about disguises and how they fooled Kurumi, who mistakenly judged them for Aiko’s case, not realising that they were masking their relationship to her. Next time I really ought to not jump to conclusions myself and focus on what’s in front of me

That’s that- at least as far as my notations go. Still the same issue with the videos (I keep getting swamped with them, and not enough time to load them into my computer and trim them, aurgh) but I saved a handful of good moments so I guess I’ll just be late. Overall, a really strong chapter if with a few nagging points, time to roll on

[skrunksthatwunk]

thoughts i forgot to add to the penis music poll bc you can't edit poll tags:

[nonexistent-introvert]

There for you (pt 2)

Pairing: Stephen Strange x F!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Content: unrequited feelings, angst, Stephen pining over christine

A/N: I honestly would have left the first part as it is but an idea hit so here it is. Anyways, as I said, either Stephen suffers or you do.

Part one

    Your steps were heavy, it had been an exhausting and hectic shift and yet, you still found yourself making your way to the rooftop. At this point, it’s more to disappoint yourself in hopes that you move on from Stephen. Opening the door to the rooftop, you walked in, smiling at the familiar breeze and cityscape you have come to know and appreciate. That was when your eyes fell onto his figure sitting on the bench, your eyes widening in surprise. Stephen’s shift had ended hours ago. You sucked in a breath, taking a few steps towards him. 

    “I was hoping to catch you here.” Stephen looked up to you with a smile, handing you a can of coke before taking a sip out of his coffee. You took the can of coke from him, it all felt so surreal, you were half expecting yourself to wake up and find out that you had fallen asleep on your work desk or something. Stephen raised his eyebrows at your frozen state, “I was feeling nice today.” He joked, thinking that your appalled expression was from the fact that he had prepared a drink for you, in hopes of finding you here. You sat down beside him, opening the can of coke with a hiss. “It’s been long since we talked, I missed it,” Stephen admitted, staring into the distance, feeling uncomfortable at your lack of words. “Shouldn’t you be home now? Your shift ended a few hours ago.” You asked, he pursed his lips. “You keeping track of me?” You shook your head, “Christine and I are working overtime for the research study.” He answered.

   Of course, Christine.

  “Don’t overwork yourself.” You reminded him. He smiled, “That’s why I’m here, decided to take a break. Christine suggested it too.” You grimaced at his mention of her. Stephen glanced at his watch, “Hey Valentine’s coming. You found anyone yet?” Stephen started, you snorted childishly at him. “I’m single Stephen.” Stephen rubbed his facial hair with his palm, trying to wipe the smile off his face at your tone. “There must be someone you’re into.” He emphasised on the ‘someone’. You looked at him, “What are you planning Stephen. Leave me alone.” You sighed, he stifled a laugh of his. “I just hope you find someone soon. You are awfully single.” He shrugged. “You’re one to talk Stephen, aren’t you single too?” You regretted the question the moment the words left your lips. “At least I had my fair share of relationships and romance, you on the other hand…you don’t even seem to be remotely attracted to anyone.” You smiled, at least that meant you were doing a fantastic job of concealing your feelings. Stephen leaned in closer to you, an action that made you gasp and your heart flutter. “So, is there someone?” He pursued. You looked at him, your face flushing a little. His eyes twinkled in delight, “I knew it! Do I know him?” 

   You could stare at his features, a soft smile on your face. “Well, he’s cocky and an annoying overachiever but he’s got the biggest heart, he pretends that matters don’t bother him when it does, he pushes himself and strives for excellence in everything he does. But you know something? He’s a coward who refuses to do anything that he isn’t sure he could be the best at and that applies to romance too, he makes me laugh despite having a reputation for being stoic and I’m comfortable around him.” 

Stephen raised his eyebrows, giving you a judgemental look before looking away. “What?” You asked. “He sounds like a walking red flag but you do you.” You slapped him lightly on the shoulder, “You talk like you ain’t one.” He shot you an offended look, “Or maybe this guy is great and all. I forgot you tend to give compliments in the form of insults.” he said, laughing a little at the look on your face. 

   “So what’s his name?” Stephen questioned, he wanted to know who it was that you seemed to be head over heels for, judging from the lovesick look you had on your face when you described the guy. You looked into the distance, frowning slightly. “Shit, it’s raining. I gotta go before it gets worse.” You cursed, you didn’t have an umbrella with you. “It was nice talking to you again Stephen.” you smiled at him before running off. Stephen stood up too, his mind preoccupied with the man that you described as he strode back into his office where he was working on the research study with Christine. 

   Christine was already at her usual seat, pouring over some files and documents. Christine turned back to greet him. Stephen’s eyes fell onto the window that was being pelted with raindrops, the rain was getting heavier. His eyes then spotted the extra umbrella he had kept in his office. 

  “I’ll be back soon, just gonna go lend my umbrella to someone.” he said, leaving the office again with two umbrellas in hand while running through the halls of the hospital. 

  The sound of your name being called out in the rain almost missed you, you unplugged the earphones from your ears before turning around to find Stephen running up to you with an umbrella. “You’re drenched!” He pointed out. “I can see that Stephen.” You told him, he thrusted the extra umbrella into your hand. “What for? I’m already drenched Stephen.” He leaned further into you, trying his best to shelter the both of you from the rain. “Stop being stubborn and use it already.” He scolded. You sighed, glancing down before stepping away from him. You had to do it now, it was no use waiting for him everyday, you had to make the decision of what to do with your feelings towards him. He let out an annoyed huff as he tried to shelter you again, you took another step back, giving him back his umbrella. 

   “I don’t need it Stephen. Take it back.” He opened his mouth to argue, but you already stopped listening. The signs were clear, you were just a friend to him. Christine is the woman he goes to, listens to and smiles the most with. Whatever you felt towards him was how he felt towards Christine, it was like looking at a reflection whenever he interacted with Christine, it was like how you interacted with him. You bit on your lip, looking away as you felt the tears start to well up, if not for the rain, Stephen would have caught sight of your tears already. You looked at him again, a worried look on his face. You swallowed, you have made your decision. 

   “Thank you but I’ll deal with it. I’m already drenched, the umbrella is of no use.” You said again, smiling sadly at him. Stephen watched helplessly as you turned the corner while walking under the heavy rain, worried for you. 

   You wanted to be there for him so you’ll do it. 

   You’ll do it as a friend and for that to happen, these feelings for him had to be concealed until the end of time and its ok. 

  It’s ok as long as you’re still by his side

tag: @jokatsuya

[gildedmuse]

So, I just know all of Tumblr was wondering, "hey, you remember that really weird ZoLaw fan with the annoyingly overly stylized post? I wonder if she's seen this and if she has any theories or thoughts, an observation or two?"

Well, allow me to set your wandering mind at ease, fictional Tumblr fan. The answer is: No. No, I really don't.

I have like three hundred.

[I also spent time just trying to track down as many translations as possible. Is Tera A Criminal's Daughter or The Daughter Of Thieving Bandits! These are CLEARLY separate things and can ENTIRELY change how her utter nonpresence in Zoro's life shaped him! Though I can take comfort in knowing that, regardless of what kind of crimes her father was committing they were more important than anything his daughter ever did in her entire life.]

And, hey, as might as well jump right into that whole mess.

1. Wait, Zoro's mom is dead? Thank goodness, I was worried Oda forgot one!

(AKA: Stop. Murdering. Moms.)

I'll go first, I don't mind saying when I was wrong. True, in the past I may have suggested that the vast majority of female characters in One Piece come off as ever so slightly, "leaning into sexist tropes with unadulterated joy; it's the misogynistic tropes equivalent of a child running naked through a grocery store. It's right there, everyone sees it, yet people shut up and continue shopping in part because, well, these days you just expect most people to cover that junk! What would you even say? And if you DO speak up and call out the inappropriate, be prepared for blank stares and tantrums; but THEY don't mind! THEY don't think it's wrong! You're just being mean!"

More or less a direct quote.

However, I see now that I rushed to judgement and the reality of the situation is far more nuanced. With that in mind, I was just wondering if someone could help answer some of the questions I have.

Like: Why does Oda believe that it's illegal for (maternal) female characters to survive other character's backstories?

More importantly, why hasn't someone just reached out to explain the misconception!? It can't be that difficult. If nothing else, just have a lawyer or judge or other expert in censorship on hand. Or is the one of those cases where back in highschool his friends made something up and then kept pretending it was real to see if he'd believe you and not only did he fall for it, it took over 20 years before he learned that, what, no that's not illegal. That would be crazy if it were an actual law. Cause you know, after the first 10 years I think yeah you have to just lean into it. Pretend it's a creative decision on your part and definitely not because you were terrified of being sentenced to a slow and humiliating public death.

Just to be clear that's definitely what's up, right? I mean, I'm struggling to think of another reason....able excuse why a story that I really enjoy keeps playing the same old sexist tropes cards again and again to the point of absurdity. It would just help if I had a valid excus- explanation. I almost mistyped the word explanation.

....

....

So I imagine it went like.

"That's the third mangaka they've had to Publically Execute this week!"

"They've started taking this law way more serious lately."

"This one really deserved it though! I heard his main character has a mother in her late forties!"

"That does seem old to have your first child."

"No, he's the middle of three and 22 years old. The story even has flashbacks of defining moments in his childhood and never once did she try to sacrifice herself for him, get murdered by his enemies, or die in meaningless unrelated accidents."

"Damn, that's cold to be there for all the protagonist core moments and not die and help him develop and grow a character? They must have a very antagonistic relationship. Is she actually the villain."

"Not that we know, and when they asked about this being a possible plot twist since - obviously if she's evil no laws are being broken."

"Well, of course, that's the whole reason Statue 2-dash-57 exists; if creators can show they have consistently been building up to a surprise twist then the female character in question can continue to live so long as she continues to be unrepentant and unlikable until the resolution of her arch by the protagonist."

"That's the thing! Under oath not only did man present no evidence to support her identity as a secret villain, he went on the record stating he wanted to depict their relationship as one of a normal modern 20 year old and his mother."

"That can't be true! What publishing company would even print that!?"

"It gets worse. I told you he was a middle child? Well, according to those who've read the actual manga, his younger sister was really sick as a child."

"Oh, well, at least-"

"It was just a fish allergy. She's perfectly fine."

"Sometimes I feel this law is unnecessarily harsh but.... Then you hear stories like that, and you realize that some people really are monsters."

[teyvatdreams]

Hi Dani! May I request some blurbs for Kaeya, Beidou, Albedo, and Jean (separately) having an s/o who, despite having a heart of gold, doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together? They forget/lose things, ask obvious questions, or just sort of do things without thinking. They’re kind and brave and all that, they’re just kind of square-brained a lot of the time. Thanks, and have a lovely day!

i have no idea what to title this but i loved this idea

includes: kaeya, beidou, albedo, and jean

kaeya

tbh kaeya loves your… not-so-bright moments

he honestly finds them adorable

especially because when he first met you, he thought your personality was more on the serious side

he couldn’t be more wrong

whenever you’re having a moment he just sits back and enjoys the show, watching as you figure out your own problem

“wait!” you yell, stopping in your tracks.

kaeya does the same and turns to look at you. “what? you okay?”

“yeah, i just… i forgot my map.” you sigh, shoulders dropping in defeat. “i told you i would bring it and i forgot! we can’t go on this mission without it or we’ll be completely lost,” you explain.

a grin appears on kaeya’s face, and he crosses his arms. “are you sure?”

you furrow your eyebrows. “of course i’m sure! if i had it with me, i’d be looking at it right now!”

“do you remember right before we left when we stopped to talk to bennett?” kaeya asks.

you pause to think. “yeah… but what does that have to do with my map?”

“retrace your steps, love.”

you and kaeya were headings towards the entrance gates when you were stopped by the young adventurer, asking where you guys were going. you told him where, and let him join until he was pulled aside by another adventurer. he was told that some if the older guys were having arthritis problems again, so you and kaeya left without him.

“i still don’t… oh!” you reached into your back pocket and retrieved your map. “got it!”

beidou

tbh she doesn’t really notice if you ask obvious questions or ask her if she’s seen the book you’re holding in her hands

she finds it kind of endearing

and she doesn’t blame you for getting confused easily, you’re a very busy person after all

you’re so busy all the time she’s impressed you can even keep your head on straight

it wasn’t until you joined her on her ship that she started to think you didn’t have it on straight

beidou was more than excited to bring you onto her ship and introduce you to her crew. she just wasn’t really expecting to have to babysit you the whole time.

“do you guys have fishing rods? i can try to catch a fish for dinner!” you say excitedly, looking out to the sea.

“what? no,” beidou steps closer to you. “you can’t fish while we’re moving. you won’t catch anything.” she says, putting an arm around you. “i appreciate the sentiment though.”

later, when a storm started to brew, she had to drag you off the deck.

“no, let me stay!” you whine, trying to pull your hand out of her grasp. “someone has to look after the ship!”

“yeah, the people qualified for the job can do that, babe. i don’t need you getting struck by lightning…” she sighs.

she might be more aware of your silly questions not that it involves her area of expertise, but she’ll glare at anyone who looks at you funny.

“woah… are you gonna make him walk the plank?” you ask beidou after she practically shoots daggers at a crewmate with her eyes.

“the plank? no, that’s just a myth. there’s no plank walking here,” beidou replies, laughing.

albedo

don’t get him wrong

he absolutely loves you

but having you in his lab makes him a nervous wreck

he trusts your judgement for the most part

but his experiments are very tedious

and tedious is not really your forte

“oh, so i just pour this in here, right?” you ask, tilting a vial.

“n-no!” albedo, panicked, grabs it to stop the liquid from pouring out. “not this one. this one,” he says, giving you a different vial with blue liquid in it.

“right, right…” you say.

“pour it slowly—“ albedo sighs as you dump the liquid into the container in front of you.

you look at him, and then back down at the liquid. “sorry.”

he smiles. “it’s fine. nothing exploded, right? so we’re okay.”

you bite your lip, thinking. you set down the vial. “maybe this is better as a one-man-job,” you tell him with a sigh. “i think i’m doing more harm than good here.”

“no, no, no,” albedo grabs your hand. “it’s fine. you’re doing great! you just need to… uh, listen… a bit more. i’m just worried for your safety,” he says.

“right… i should pay more attention. this stuff is serious.” you grab the vial you were holding before. “is it time to add this one yet?”

albedo smiles. “unfortunately, no. that one isn’t even being added to this concoction.”

jean

jean loves and respects you very much

but whenever you go out adventuring

here anxiety skyrockets

she know you’re strong but

acting without thinking is a big problem of yours

so you usually arrive back home hurt every time

although to you, it isn’t that big of a deal

she was returning to her office after practically being dragged to the church to get treated for a headache that had lasted days when she saw you making your way there yourself, covered in scratches and bruises.

“oh my god! what happened?” she asks, putting her hands on your shoulders. “are you okay?”

you grin. “oh, i’m fine! don’t worry about me, jean.”

“but you’re all… beaten up! i shouldn’t keep you here… you should go get patched up.” she says.

“jean, really, i’m fine!” you tell her, grabbing her hand to keep her from walking away. “i’m just coming here so people don’t yell at me to get treated… it doesn’t hurt.”

“are you sure? you’re gonna be so sore tomorrow,” she points out.

“mmm, probably,” you say with a shrug. “but at least there is a tomorrow, right?”

her gaze finally softens. “alright. but… i do want to stay with you while you get bandaged up.”

[thefanficmonster]

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell. 

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up.  At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

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[surely-galena]

Through the Looking Glass, and What Vyn Found There -- Writer's Commentary and Reflection

[WC: 1.6K]

I heavily underestimated how long TtLG was going to turn out.

It was meant to follow In the end, all I long for is to be a bit of warmth for you and Despite All Odds, It Seems I've Met My Match in the sense that it's a wacky adventure centering around one NXX member and following a mini character arc.

And yeah, Through the Looking Glass still fits that. But with a tentative estimate of 20K at the beginning (like Despite All Odds), I definitely did not expect to end up writing an additional 30K.

There are certain ideas that didn't make it into the final draft, branching points and other things I had to cut or switch into something else. But with no other place to put those ideas, I figured I might as well chat about them for those who might be interested! Or in case you wanted to know all the other ways Through the Looking Glass might have turned out.

Spoilers galore!

Oh no I forgot about that

Since I wrote TtLG over a year and wrote other fics in between, it was tricky keeping track of all the tiny details.

A main example of this is Vyn's crown. He gets the crown around ch11/12, and then I completely forgot about it for the rest of the chapters. I only realized when I was writing ch19 and hurriedly went back to ch13 just to sneak in one line of "OH AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HAVE THE CROWN ANY LONGER." For continuity purposes.

Foreshadowing is a thing

The Snow White twist didn't come to me until later in the story. I decided I liked the idea, and then had to go back and grab details I could twist into something relevant and present it all as HA, FORESHADOWING!!

It just worked out really well, especially when you realize that the queen and the huntsman are both vaguely alluded to in the first couple of paragraphs.

I'm quite happy with the way I tied things together considering I was writing and posting the fic chapter by chapter, but it's definitely made me consider planning a fic better or at least writing a little more ahead before I post a chapter XD

In a similar way, the climax was really hard for me to figure out. That was actually the main reason I ran into a roadblock around March-Sept, when I stopped writing the fic for a bit. I didn't really want to lead the characters around in circles when I had no clue where the story was gonna go.

And then I read back, landed in Luke's chapter, and saw his "home is where the heart is" line.

And I was like, oh. Because that's it, that's the answer! It was RIGHT THERE for the taking, and then I snatched it and ran with it for the second half of the fic.

Stuff I wanted to implement but couldn't for pacing / thematic / other reasons, and other cut lines

I thought a lot about how I wanted the climax to go. Some of these ideas I still find pretty fun, they just didn't really fit in the way I wanted them to.

So one thing I thought about was leaning into the whole sleight of hand thing we get in SR Lingering Warmth, like:

Wonderland character: “You’re mad.”

Vyn: “Ah, but there is a method to my madness, is there not?”

So instead of following fairy tale magic logic, maybe Vyn takes some inspiration from Carl and goes screw it, I’m making my own magic with Trickery and Deceit

-

Another thing I thought about was having the looking glass in the throne room be more of an overt threat when we first see it?

“It’s a looking glass,” the queen says. “It tells me I’m pretty.”

“It’s a looking glass,” the beast says. “It tells me I’m human.”

(Oh yeah, and the huntsman was first just outright referred to as the Beast! I still kept that idea, just changed him to the huntsman to better reflect the Snow White story)

-

I also played around with the concept of checkmate for the longest time. I thought about Vyn saying "checkmate" mistakenly, Vyn saying "checkmate" not mistakenly, and someone else saying "checkmate" to Vyn when he makes a bad judgement.

In the end, no one says "checkmate" HAHA

-

I was going to make Marius have more song references. That's it, that's the cut concept (and single line)

“You know the rules, and so do I.” Marius grunts as he ducks to avoid the incoming barrage of cards.

-

Zangr was originally planned to make some meta comments about fanfic, just because it's Zangr. I decided to make him marginally more helpful instead. Cryptic, but still helpful!

And oh, remember this bit?

Zangr shrugs, and his cloak shifts with the movement. He closes his eyes, as if trying to recall something. “One for knowledge, two for understanding. Three for answers, four for more. Five for strife. Shadows unfold.”

Zangr is actually referring to the squares Vyn had previously traveled! First Square for getting a hold on what's actually happening (knowledge), Second Square for Carl and understanding the cards and the end goal, Third Square for MC to break through some of Vyn's walls (internal answers), Fourth Square for more answers (as in "home is where the heart is"), and the Fifth Square is in reference to Marius and Vyn's tense relationship (strife).

-

More climax ideas!

I briefly played around with Vyn actually having to go to Svart, but discarded it pretty quickly. I didn't wanna delve too much into canon Svart, haha

Chapter 12 (where we meet the Queen of Hearts for the first time) was originally going to be the climax chapter, but as I got closer to that point, I realized that was not the right stopping point. Vyn hadn't had his whole arc yet, hadn't properly resolved things with Artem, and also the rest of the NXX hadn't really had the chance to do much as a team. Which meant it became a halfway point instead, and we got to go to the Underland, huzzah

Lastly, I think the climax idea I was saddest about dropping had to do with the calling cards, mostly because it meant I couldn't write in this line:

Vyn spreads his arms. "I have achieved subdivision."

I managed to sneak in the fact that the calling cards still worked in the final chapter as a small nod to this, but essentially I had thought about having Vyn's dark moment be by himself (instead of in the lift thing with Artem). After a while, he would draw something on the cards -- either the original symbols to recall MC, Marius, Luke, and Marius again, OR:

He'd draw a psi symbol. And the idea was to have that drawing result in a sort of clone Vyn (where original Vyn is the hivemind and the card Vyns are decoys). And then have Vyn repeat the process until he had five different Vyns to take on the Queen of Hearts.

It's pretty easy to see why I ended up going a different route, but I still find the subdivision quote to be pretty fun.

-

Finally, this is a section I cut out of the last chapter. It's a little rough, but I thought I would include it here, anyway. As much as I liked the circular writing, it didn't really fit into the chapter as well as I wanted it to.

They say Stellis is a place where dreams are made real.

A young woman studies furiously so she can uphold justice where there is none.

A man enters the city in search of a place to call home.

These tales all have one thing in common: they have had to work for their dreams. For Stellis has areas that are both dark and light.

There are people in Stellis who never fulfill their dreams nor achieve their happily-ever-afters. After all, it is a place like any other.

So who is it who fights for these happy ever afters? Who are the people who stand up for the common folk and swear to defend justice and hope and dreams?

A determined maiden, a rising attorney, a star detective, a young heir, and a psychiatrist with a hidden past.

There are other unsung heroes, of course. There always are.

But it is because of these five that Stellis continues to be a place where dreams can be upheld.

They do not have magic spells or looking glasses to draw from, but they have boldness and courage and resilience. And they have each other.

Unacknowledged by the majority of the people around them, they continue to work for the good of their home.

Final Thoughts

I quite like the way Through the Looking Glass turned out! It may not be my favorite fic I've ever written, but for all the problems I ran into along the way, I'm fairly satisfied with it. There are things I could have done better, sure, but all things considered, I completed it and that's cool! It'll be a little sad to say goodbye, but it'll also be very exciting to open up a blank document and draft something new :D

What's next?

Okay, so we had the monster plant fic for Luke, a genderbent/parallel universes AU for Artem, and a Wonderland excursion for Vyn. It's kinda obvious who's next in the lineup XD

I do have some Marius fic concepts in mind, but before I really go down the road of "what multichapter to write next", I'm gonna take a nice break haha. But maybe someday Marius is going to finally, finally have a fic that's centered on just him :')

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Come Back Home

Pairing: Dick Grayson (DC Titans) x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death and miscarriage

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Years after the two of you broke up, Dick Grayson comes back to your life. But he doesn’t know you’ve been hiding a secret all this time.

A/N: @imcarolinashannon​ and I were talking about angst fics so I decided to write this. I probably might do a second part so if you want to be tagged in that then just send me a message or something

Dick lounged comfortably in Donna’s living room. She promised to meet up with him but unfortunately, she was running late. Dick had no trouble letting himself in and laying down on her couch, waiting for her to get home.

He heard the door open and opted to stay silent, wanting to see her reaction when she realized he had broken in. Technically he hadn’t really broken in but used the key that she hid underneath the doormat.

He silently waited for Donna to come to the living room, feeling childish but at the same time anticipating it.

“Don?”

That wasn’t Donna’s voice.

“Don? You here? The door was left open…”

Dick stiffened. That voice. He’s heard that voice before.

“Don? I—” Your voiced cut off suddenly, whatever was in your hands slipped and fell to the ground. You barely even realized, just hearing a faint thump in the back of your head as the plastic bag hit the floor.

It had been so long.

Dick Grayson hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you had seen him. You on the other hand, looked like age had caught up with you, but in Dick’s eyes you looked as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

That day flashed vividly in his head. You looking beautiful and holding him close to your heart. The ache he felt that day. He couldn’t bear to say anything and break your heart. He couldn’t break your heart again. Saying goodbye to you while you were asleep. Leaving a note on the nightstand.

And then leaving without a second look back.

He never let himself rethink his decision. When he got drunk, he’d shed silent tears when he thought about you, but he’d never let himself call you up. When he got your letters, he’d keep them by his nightstand, but he’d never let himself read it. He feared he’d listen to you and come back.

He didn’t deserve to have you in his life again.

Looking at you again after all these years. He wondered if he made the right decision. He wondered if he should’ve just given into his selfishness. But beyond everything, the void in his heart was made that much more apparent to him when he noticed the way you were looking at him. It was guarded, but at the same time emotional.

It was like you felt something, but you didn’t want to show him.

It was like that for a few seconds, where you were just stuck staring at each other, frozen in time. Neither of you dared to move a muscle. It was calm, too calm. And the two of you were afraid that it would start a storm.

So just as quickly as you came, you backtracked and ran away.

“(Y/N) wait—!” Dick started, moving for you before he could stop himself. He couldn’t let you slip through his fingers. He just needed a few more minutes. A few more minutes to look at you and realize what he gave up. A few more minutes.

But you were already booking it down the hallway when he made it to the door. It was then he found the strength to stop himself. He had to. He couldn’t ask for you to wait. You probably waited a lot already. He couldn’t ask you to wait anymore.

So, he let you slip through his fingers again.

But this time it was him who had to watch you walk away.

And it was only then he realized how much it hurt to be left behind.

***

When the Titans split up you were the only one who remained in San Francisco. Waiting. Just waiting for someone to return. Anyone.

Everything happened so quickly. Garth was taken from you, as well as Jericho, and everything just changed in the span of a night. The family that you had built had broken and no one seemed to have the energy to put back the pieces together.

You remember the same monotonous days, the days where you couldn’t feel anything, when you just woke up to go back to sleep and slept to pretend that none of this ever happened. It was suffocating and exhausting, but you had no way to pull yourself out into the light.

You remember holding onto your fiancé a little tighter that night, your body shaking even though you weren’t cold. You remember sleeping a little heavier that night, as if your body couldn’t bear to wake up to this existence anymore. You remember feeling cold and empty.

You remember waking up to find the space next to you on the bed empty and you immediately knew what had happened. Dick had taken off. You had known it was coming, for a while now, but you couldn’t seem to believe it.

For a while you just stared at the note he left behind with an emotionless gaze. This week had been hell enough, what was another punch? At least things couldn’t get worse.

For a while you just held the note loosely between your fingers, not bothering to move from your bed. You knew you were supposed to be feeling sad, but your heart couldn’t afford it. You couldn’t feel anything anymore.

So, you just stood up from bed, moving unsteadily to the kitchen, not being able to process anything. You just went to the fridge and got yourself a glass of milk before going back to the couch and turning on the television. It was playing but you weren’t watching it.

The sorrow of losing your best friends and your fiancé didn’t hit you until a few days later. You ran out of milk and were looking for something else to drink. Opening the fridge reserved for alcohol, you grabbed whatever touched your fingers first.

An orange soda.

Then your gaze moved to the diamond ring sitting snugly on your finger. The bottle slipped through your fingers, falling onto the ground along with your body. You held yourself as you cried, screamed for someone to come back. For someone to save you through this loneliness.

You cried for what seemed like forever, until you felt dry and then you cried some more. You couldn’t even bring yourself to get off the floor, letting the sticky orange soda soak into your pants and the glass shards of the broken bottle sink into your legs.

Crying felt like the only thing you were capable of. You weren’t able to do anything else, even consoling yourself was far from your mind. All you could do was mourn the death of your friend and the death of your friendships.

Your breath left your body, your stomach churned painfully and your heart clenched in your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye. You just couldn’t do what the others had and leave your family in the past. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

So, you waited, for someone to return, for anyone to return. You waited and waited, until it had been engrained into your behaviour, until it had been the first thing you thought about in the morning and the last thing you thought about at night. You waited.

You knew the day would come when this void in your heart would be filled.

If you had just waited.

But you eventually gave up the hope of them coming back, you gave it all up. You figured they would never come back home. That they found new homes. That they forgot about you. At this point you wondered if even one of your family members would return.

Nothing could have prepared you for Donna’s phone call one day. She told you that she was back in town and wanted to see you again. Something told you it was too good to be true. Something else told you to give into your pride and bail on her like she did so many years ago.

But against your better judgement, you still agreed to meet with her.

You weren’t expecting to come face to face with the man who left you behind so many years ago. However unhealthy it may have been, you never let yourself think about how you were really feeling when this devastation hit you.

You never tried to identify your feelings.

Rather, you tried to distract yourself and move forward. And it had worked. Until you made eye contact with Dick and had to wonder whether you should break down, get angry and scream or just be happy and relieved to see him again.

It was something you couldn’t handle. You couldn’t even begin to think about it. You couldn’t.

So, you didn’t have to think twice when your legs stumbled back and sprinted out of Donna’s apartment and out of the building.

Only when you were safely back home did you stop running, ignoring the calls from Donna for the rest of the day and instead drowning your sorrows in orange soda, trying to forget this ever happened.

***

Donna eventually managed to track you down to your apartment where you were just laying around your couch. While you were feeling overwhelmed to invite her into your home you were also excited to just sit down and talk with her again.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Donna smiled, pulling you in for a hug, “It’s been so long. Nice place you have here.” She commented, taking off her coat as you shut the door behind her.

“Oh, it’ just your run of the mill, one-bedroom apartment.” You said absentmindedly, “You can look around if you want.”

Donna did exactly that, moving to the passageway and then towards the one bedroom. The door was closed and she wondered if she was allowed to enter. You did say that you could look around so it wouldn’t do any harm.

“Hey, um, the door is locked.” She called out to you and there was an awkward beat of silence before you answered.

“Yeah, I, um, I keep the old suit and weapons there. Don’t want anybody to get in there, you know?”

Oh. Well, that made sense.

“Why don’t you come here and we can have a cup of tea of something.”

“So, what have you been up to?” You asked, getting a cup of tea ready for her. It had been a while since you had anyone in your place so you weren’t even sure where the second tea cup was.

“(Y/N), as much as I would love for this to just be a visit, I’m sorry but there’s something important that I have to tell you.”

Donna told you all about how Dick had reinstated the Titans and was actually in the city right now. You had already known that and made a conscious decision to stay far away from them. You had waited and waited and waited for them to return but when you finally moved on, they decide to show up again?

She told you about how each of the original Titans members were being targeted by an assassin, reasons and identity unknown and that she was here to bring you to the base for your protection.

“Listen, Donna, I hung up that suit a long time ago. If you guys are getting targeted then it’s probably because you started to get back into this life again. I’m fine and I haven’t been involved in it for a long time.” You told her.

“Yeah, (Y/N), I know but we all just think it would be safer—”

“Donna, I told you, I’ve moved on. I’m just an elementary school teacher now. No one is out to get me.”

A shot rang out through the apartment and your windows shattered.

The butt of the bullet shined from its hole in your wooden floors. It was a warning shot. And when you turned you saw the silhouette of a man on the roof of the apartment complex next to your building. He hid well and you couldn’t really make out any features.

The man held the gun up to eye level again and you jumped grabbing Donna’s arm and running towards the closet in the hallway before throwing it open and handing her a gun as shots rang out one after the other.

“I thought you said you kept all your superhero stuff in the other room?” She asked, seeing your costume hung in all it’s glory along with a number of weapons and gadgets.

“Is that really important now?!” You shouted, trying to pocket as many weapons as you could and then ran out into the hallway and past the staircase to the other side of the building

“What? (Y/N) what are we doing? The exit is over there!” She shouted, following you through the halls and she heard you click the safety off your gun before shooting at a lock and kicking the door open.

She ran behind you through an empty apartment and then through the window, scaling down the fire escape before making a break for it.

***

“So, you’re telling me I know have a target painted on my back because the rest of you couldn’t stop playing dress up?” You asked with a furious bite to your voice. The rest of the members held their head down, trying to avoid your gaze.

You were always the mother of the group, looking after people and making sure everyone was okay. But everybody knew when you were angry, there was nothing topping you from ripping them to shreds. The only thing they could do was try their hardest not to agitate you.

Even though none of them were scared of you and they probably could be equally matched with you in a fight. They would probably ever win, because you haven’t been out in the field for a year. But there was just something about your fiery gaze and your sharp voice that made their hearts quicken and them lower their heads in shame.

“(Y/N),” Dawn began with a placating voice, trying to put out your anger, “I know your mad but—”

“Mad?! I’m furious! What the hell were you imbeciles thinking?! Oh, let me guess, absolutely nothing!”

Usually when you were this angry, the team would send Dick your way, knowing that you could never stay angry with him for long. Even though years have passed and your relationship was now broken, it seemed like their strategies were still ingrained into their minds.

“(Y/N), look we just—” Dick began, moving towards you gently so he could hold you but you snapped at him, glaring at him so harshly that he actually took a few steps back and sat back into his seat.

“Oh, shut up, daddy issues! I don’t even wanna start with you!”

Hank immediately stood up then, getting annoyed with you constantly yelling at him. He was a grown man, why should he have to hear you shout at him like he was a little kid?

“Look, (Y/N), none of us—”

“Sit! The fuck! Down!”

No one could appreciate how funny Hank looked, slinking back to his seat like a kicked puppy.

“I seem to recall all of you saying that you wanted to leave this life behind! And now because none of you could actually give it up, my apartment is trashed, all my stuff probably has bullet holes and now I’m stuck here with no clothes, no stuff and all of you!”

“I could lend you some clothes if you like.” Donna said meekly from beside Dick, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Oh, well all of my problems are solved! Thank you so much!”

“I can’t believe this.” You murmured with a quiet voice and the rest recognized that you were finished with yelling. To be quite honest it was just a lot to process. You thought you had left these monsters in the past. It felt like they were trying to pull you back in by your ankles.

“I’m sorry.” Dick spoke up quietly and you sighed, seeing how ashamed he looked. He probably felt horrible, and that didn’t excuse him, but you couldn’t bear to keep yelling when you knew they felt apologetic towards you.

Maybe that’s why you were always being taken advantage of.

“Not like we can do anything about it now.” You said quietly, not making eye contact with either of them and instead just turning around and walking out of the mission room, briefly passing Rachel as you made your way to the kitchen.

You needed a shot.

Rachel stepped into the room once you left with a dazed look, clutching her arm that brushed against you as you walked out. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“Rachel? Is everything okay?”

“I—” You started but then stopped herself, not quite understanding what she was feeling, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

***

You were formally introduced to the rest of the team by the end of the day. Dick watched with a gentle smile as you made witty banter with Jason and told Gar how adorable he was as he blushed.

“Hi, I’m Rachel.”

“Hey, Rachel, I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and held out your hand for her to shake. As soon as her skin came into contact with yours a gasp l4eft her lips.

Behind her closed eyelids she saw bits and pieces of your memories. She saw you writing letters. Even though you weren’t speaking she could hear what you were writing in her head. It was just bits and pieces of you writing letters but she could feel all the emotions that you felt as you wrote it down.

‘Hey love, it’s (Y/N), I love you, please come home.’

‘Dick it’s been weeks, please come home. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I was hoping I could do it in person but I can’t. Dick, I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with your child so I need you to come home. Please.’

You sent an ultrasound along with the letter and behind it in your handwriting was ‘Please, come home, our baby needs you.’

‘Dick, I want to fly out to Detroit and see you but my Doctor says it isn’t safe for me to fly. I’m about 3 months along and I just heard his heartbeat today. I’m so scared of doing this alone, Dick. I can’t do this alone. Please come home. I need you.’

‘I don’t know if you’re even reading my letters, Dick, but I’m going to keep sending them. If it’s the only way I can talk to you then I’m going to keep sending them. I’m craving a lot of sweets, so if you decide to come home all you need to do is bring back a s’more or something to get me to forgive you, okay? I’ll forgive you, I promise, just please come back home.’

‘I found out the sex of the baby today. It’s gonna be a boy. Dick, we’re gonna have a son and I don’t think I can raise him without you. Please come back home, let’s raise our son together. Please just even call me, or even just sending me a letter back is enough. Something. Anything, Dick, please.’

‘He’s starting to kick more often now, he’s really very active. He loves it when we watch your favourite movie. I don’t know why but I can feel it when we watch it together. He feels happy. Come back home and you can feel his kicks yourself. You don’t know how amazing that feels until it happens. I talk to him a lot; I tell him about you and I know he probably doesn’t understand but It feels like he does. I’m so scared to do this alone, Dick, I don’t think I can. Would you please come home now?’

‘I’ve been getting these things called Braxton Hick’s contractions. They were scary and new but apparently nothing to worry about. That’s what the doctor’s say but I can’t help but get scared, you know? It was absolutely heart-breaking to have to get myself to the hospital. I have friends, but let’s face it, none of them can actually take on the burden of having a child. And I couldn’t ask them to. I still love you, Dick. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. Our son, he feels so familiar, like there was a piece of you left behind. I’m starting to lose hope of you coming back, but I’m still going to keep writing letters because our son needs his father.’

Scenes flashes one after another and her head began spinning with images and she felt dizzy. Eventually her head cleared up and her eyes focused on your staring at her with concerned eyes.

“Rachel, is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, you blanked out for a second there.”

Yeah, Yeah I’m fine.”

You seemed to buy her explanation and left the room along with the boys when they offered to show you around. Rachel still stood in the middle of the kitchen, seemingly frozen.

Dick walked up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and that seemed to pull her out of her trance but she still seemed pretty shaken up.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“She sent you letters, didn’t she?”

His brows furrowed as he scanned her face. There was something about it that he couldn’t pin-point, that he couldn’t read. It didn’t surprise him that she knew that you had written letters to him but what surprised him was that she asked about it. Usually, she never did.

“Yeah, she did.”

“You never read them, did you?” She asked again, meekly, breaking eye contact with him. She sounded disappointed and hurt but he couldn’t understand why. Maybe if he just explained the situation to her, she would understand.

“No, I never did.” He was going to tell her why. He was going to explain himself. But just as the moment came, Rachel started pulling herself away, moving towards her bedroom like she was lost.

“You should have.”

***

After his conversation with Rachel, Dick wondered what could have been in those letters that made her so shaken up. That made her distance herself from him for the next few days. It was heart-breaking to watch her pull away from him whenever he wanted to talk.

The longer Rachel distanced herself from him, the longer he wondered what exactly was in those letters. Rachel seemed to think that he should have read those letters, but what could’ve been in there that was so terrible?

Obviously, you were well and you looked like you had completely turned your life around, so what could it have been that Rachel thought he should find out about even after all these years?

The curiosity was enough to make him find those letters but not enough to give him the courage to read them. But he still needed to, he absolutely had to, so he opened the first letter you ever sent him.

Around an hour later, all the letters were opened and scattered around his bed. Nothing was going through his head. He didn’t even here you when you called him for dinner from the kitchen.

“Dick? Dinner’s ready. What are you….?” It was then you noticed the opened letters sitting on his bed, “What is this?”

“The letters you sent me.” He told you, his voice cracking and your breath caught. Your first emotion was to run away, to run far away but at the same time it felt like your feet were bolted to the floor. Dick looked up at you and you vaguely noticed the tears in his eyes.

For the first time, it felt like he finally understood how much leaving you had hurt him. He finally realized that he did more harm than good by leaving you. That he was missing out on his life’s greatest dream by leaving you. That while he was missing you, were begging him to come back.

“We have a son…” He started and you flinched, taking a sharp breath but not moving from your place in the doorway with your arms wrapped around your waist to protect yourself from what was going to come.

“I—I can’t believe this.” He spoke again and you bit your lip. Was he going to scream? Shout? Was he going to tell you that you should’ve aborted it? He stood up, albeit on shaky legs but still made his way towards you, keeping a few feet of distance between you.

You were scared of how he would react. You were worried about what he would say.

“I want to meet—”

“You can’t.” You said firmly, clenching your jaw hard as your nails dug into your palms. This was possibly the worst thing he could’ve said.

“Look I know that I shouldn’t have left. I realize that now. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my entire life and I’m sorry. But he’s my son too, please let me—”

“I lost it.” You murmured, not being able to meet his eyes and instead just lowered your eyes, “I lost our son.”

Just like that, Dick Grayson’s world began to crumble before his eyes.

“I woke up one night, in a pool of blood,” You spoke, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to fight the onslaught of tears. Dick immediately pulled you into a hug and you didn’t fight it, instead you fisted his shirt in your hands to keep you in this world and keep you from reliving that day.

 “I called the ambulance and even though they got me to the hospital and did first aid, he was already gone when I got there.” You cried into his neck and his arms were tight around your shaking form, but he was shedding silent tears into your hair.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He said, voice cracking with guilt and a sob broke through you.

“That’s what everyone else said. But—I just—Can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I had just been more careful. If I had taken care of myself more. If I had tried harder. We would still have our baby boy.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He said once more, firmly this time, that you almost began to believe him.

“I was his mother. I was supposed to protect him. I failed.”

“I was his father. I was supposed to protect the both of you. I’m sorry I failed you.” He wanted to tell you that he loved you. The words were just on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t deserve to love you. And he didn’t deserve to tell you.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said again before he broke down and the two of you fell to the floor, crying in each other’s arms.

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee​

DC Taglist: @emmacata​

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 2

Race day. The whole track was buzzing with excitement. Over the last two weeks, Zemo had been working hard and improving his car. Between all that, he was thinking about you.

It was strange how someone you met once, and hardly knew, made such an impact on your life. He wondered if you got the ticket. Would you even come?

He stood by his car. People had come to see him, but his eyes were only looking for one person. You had yet to make an appearance. Disappointment hung heavy in his chest.

Tony Stark stood across the way from him. He was chatting to his fans, smiling smugly and relishing in all the attention he was receiving.

If Zemo knew one thing, he wasn't going to let Stark win today. He glares at him as he takes a seat. He sighs. He had hoped you would have come. The thought of you helps cool his thoughts of the other driver.

It won't be long until they are called to the starting lane.

Zemo gets up and grabs his helmet, thinking to make a few last minute checks before they're needed. He would deal with the fact you were a once in a lifetime meeting and get on with the day. The disappointed had settled hard.

He turns his back and was about to make his way to his crew when a voice stopped him.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

He turns around quickly, relieved at the sound of your voice. He grins when his eyes land on you.

"You did, but you're here now. Though, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting."

You smile. "I'm sorry. Getting here was a hassle. I was worried I was going miss the race entirely."

He couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm glad you made it."

The cheering behind you caught your attention. You turned to see Stark climbing into his car. The crowd around him was being asked to disperse.

"I won't let him win today."

You turn to see Zemo looking at you, completely ignoring what's happening behind you.

"He really riles you up, doesn't he?"

"How could you tell?" He asked, not meaning for a reply, but surprised by your response a the same.

"You're clenching your fists and jaw. Is he, like, your enemy?"

Zemo gives a heartless chuckle.

"Something like that."

You stepped closer to him and smiled softly. This closely, he could smell the fragrance you had put on today. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"A good luck charm. I'll be cheering for you."

You're not sure where your bravery had come from, but you wanted to do something to get his mind off Stark. He looked a little surprised, but he looked more smug than that.

"My own little good luck charm? Perhaps things will be different today."

You smile as you step back. The drivers are being called to the start line. Zemo doesn't quite want to leave you yet, but duty calls.

"That's your stand," he says, pointing to the seating area above him. "I'll be back here when the race ends, meet me."

"Alright."

Zemo has someone help you up to your seat in the stands. He gets into his car as you go, looking up once before driving his car over to the start.

You don't take your eyes off his car.

That tense atmosphere seems to fall over the whole racetrack. It was just like last time. Only there was something more here for you. You were here for Zemo this time, at his request.

The silence was thick. All you could hear was your breathing, and then that beautiful sound. Those engines revving. It was as if at that moment you forgot how to breathe.

They were off.

You were already clutching your seat.

You had a little bit of research on Helmut Zemo. He had won a couple of races before, but had never beaten Tony Stark. There was a rivalry there. This had been going on a few months. Zemo was insistent on beating him at least once.

Maybe, just maybe, today will be that day.

Your eyes flick to the screen where the cars will be picked up now they're out of sight. You can feel your stomach dropping as you watch eagerly. Zemo and Stark are once again locked in battle with each other. They are ready so far ahead of the others and you wonder how they do that so fast. You bite your lip as you watch the purple car.

This would mean so much to Zemo if he beat Stark. It would put Tony down a few notches, maybe then he wouldn't be so high and mighty.

You have no idea what happened. It was as if you suddenly zoned back in to the race. Attention brought back to the screen at the sound of screeching tyres.

You tense up.

Luckily no damage had been done, but both Stark and Zemo had spiralled out of control, both cars now facing the wrong way. You could see them on the screen.

The others will catch up soon. They don't have much time to keep their places if they're going to get back into the race.

Stark's car sparks to life. You feel your heart drop as he takes off again.

Zemo cannot get his car to start again.

Banging his hand against the steering wheel he glares after Stark. Another race he will not win. No doubt Tony will have something to say later.

You can only watch as Helmut climbs put of his car and walks off the tracks. All the other cars speed past him. His car won't be crossing the finishing line today.

You don't care about the rest of the race, you leave tour seat and hurry down to the barricade. You would wait for Zemo like you said you would.

He doesn't return to the stop until the race is over, Stark's name being hollered from every direction. He comes over with a hard look on his face, jaw clenched in anger. His helmet was in his hand, hair slightly messy from it's removal.

He stalks over to where you are waiting. He doesn't even look at you as he drops the helmet and sits down, head in his hands.

"Zemo?"

He doesn't say anything. He just sits there and sighs. Your lucky kiss didn't bring him much luck.

There was no way you could be impressed with his skills after that. He had wanted to impress you today. He had wanted to cross that finish line for you. He failed.

He swears it's Stark's fault they collided like that. Now his team had to go fetch the abandoned car and fix it.

One day. One day he would beat that man.

"Zemo?"

He lowers his hands and turns his head to the side, looking at you with gentle eyes. He has a little smile on his face, but you could tell he was utterly defeated.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You ask, confused by the sudden apology.

"For wasting my lucky charm."

You chuckle softly and sit down on the tarmac by his chair.

"It's not a big deal. I'm just glad you're alright. I know how dangerous this can be."

He nods. People can die in this job.

"You have been doing some research?"

"Yes. I wanted to understand your world better." You look down sheepishly. It felt strange confessing that to him.

"My world is fast," he says, voice dropping in volume.

You both ignore the cheering happening in the distance. Tony was receiving his reward as his team parks his car opposite you.

"I like the fast lane, I found out. I'd like to stay in it a little longer."

Zemo's gaze landed on you.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" He asks, wanting to take his mind off the race.

"I would love to," you smile up at him.

"Wait for me by the gate, I'll pick you up once I've changed."

You nod and stand up. You make your way to the exit of the racetrack, waiting by the gate. Zemo goes to get out of his racing gear.

As you wait, Stark makes his exit. He spots you, grinning.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Yes," you reply curtly.

"You're wasting your time on him. You know that? Not only is he a danger on the track, but off it too." Tony peered at you over his shades, "consider that a warning."

"I think I can judge him for myself, but thank you."

Tony shrugs and drives off.

The nerve of that man! Granted, he didn't sound he meant ill feelings as he said it, but that fact he even felt the need to say that angered you. Sure, you hadn't known Zemo all that well, and everything you did know you got off the internet, but you felt more than capable to make a judgement yourself.

Tony was out of sight now.

You turned when you heard another car approach. It was a different one from the one he had two weeks ago. You smile as he pulls up in front of you. You climb in.

Zemo drives you both away from the track.

"What happened to the race car?"

"My crew will take it back and look at the damage. I'll check in with them tomorrow. I have some changes to make to it."

"What happens now? I mean, since you didn't cross the line," you ask, wanting to know more.

"I'll be set back a bit, but I'll overcome it. One day I will beat Stark. His winning streak will have to end at some point, and I would very much like to do it before the racing season ends."

"How long do you have?"

"There are three more races before the season ends."

"I believe in you."

For some reason those words set off something inside of him. He glances at you briefly as a smile spreads across his face. Perhaps it was fate that brought you to him. He would like to think that.

Zemo knee exactly where to take you. A good quiet place for drinks.

The bar was nice. Nothing flashy or loud, just a casual place for drinks. Zemo and yourself sat in the back, out of immediate eyesight of everyone else. He wanted to spend this time with you, and only you.

"What else did you learn in your research?" He asks, wanting to kick off the conversation.

"You've only been racing a handful of years, only being racing professional a few months, and yet you're super talented on the track. I had to look up some of the racers, most of which have been racing professionally for years. Yet, you're up there with them," you say, sounding impressed.

"I'm good at what I do, no doubt about that."

"How did you get into racing?"

"I love cars. Back home, I have a collection of classic models. You have only seen two of the cars I own. One day I decided to give racing a go. The thrill that runs through your veins when you're speeding around that track, it is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Adrenaline takes over once your foot is on the pedal. All you see is the track ahead."

You smile as you listen.

"I could get used to going to races."

Zemo looks at you with soft eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I would very much like it if you would."

"I can't guarantee I can be at them all. I have to work too. My job isn't nearly as cool as yours though."

"How about this, for every race you come watch, I take you out for drinks after," he offered.

"Are you... asking me out?"

"Only if you attend the races," he states.

You look down at your drink.

"I'll see what I can do, I suppose."

He chuckles, "I'll take it."

"So, there's only three races left, right?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"You have to win all three to beat Stark this season?"

"Yes."

"Can you do it?"

Zemo looks at you with focused eyes. His lips pulled into a smug grin.

"I'm going to do it."

"When is the next race?"

"Two weeks. They are two weeks apart each."

"Right." You read that online. "What's the plan from here. How do you spend the time between races?"

"Improving. Tomorrow I will meet with my crew and see the damages done to my car. I will do whatever I have to do to get it back in top form. I will improve it and test it. Over and over if I have to. I will beat Stark."

You smile.

"I know you can do it. You can."

"Well, if you keep saying it, then I know I can too," he winks at you. You chuckle and try to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

This was nice. You would get to do this again as long as you attended the rest of the races. You made a silent promise to do whatever you could to attend the remaining races. Work be damned!

When you finished your drink, Zemo drove you back to your hotel. Much like last time, you both lingered in the car before you went inside.

"Would you like to come to the garage tomorrow? I could show you what we do behind the scenes," he offers. If he was being genuinely honest, be just wanted to spend more time with you.

"Sure. I'm free tomorrow, but then I'll have to catch the next train home."

"I'm honoured you went to all the trouble to come see me race again," he smiled.

"You invited me. I wasn't going to pass up the chance to see you again," you blurted out.

You sit there in shock. Zemo looks extremely proud and smug.

"I mean-"

"No, no. Don't say any more," he laughs.

You're a blushing mess as you climb put of his car.

"See you tomorrow then?"

You just nod and head inside, embarrassed beyond belief. You can't believe you said that.

Zemo drives away with a smile.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb

[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

[arvandus]

Touch (pt 9) - Amity

PAIRING: Dabi x Fem!Reader

STORY WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: talk of killing, blood, needle/medical sewing; pining... lots of resistant pining.  Typical sensory overload due to quirk use.

CHAPTER SONG: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

Part 1   Part 8

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 9: Amity

Between your second night in a row of poor sleep and waking up incredibly early, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to find you again.  By mid-day your sensory overload had subsided enough that you collapsed into your bed, dreamless sleep dragging you under instantly.  It was short-lived, however; it felt like no sooner had your head hit the pillow, that a knock on your door roused you groggily from your slumber.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stood up and answered the door to see Toga standing in front of you, a bloodied washcloth held to her temple.

“Oh my god, what happened to you??” you exclaimed, as you let her into your room.

“I was out running some errands and a thug tried to jump me in an alleyway.” Toga replied cheerfully. She halted in her tracks.  “Oh… aren’t you still sick with the flu?”  She instantly covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, taking a step back.

“Huh? Oh!” you exclaimed. Right.  Crap. You forgot about that little white lie.  “Sorry, hang on a sec.”  You quickly went to your medical bag and pulled out a white disposable mask, placing it over your face.  “Is that better?” You asked, your voice muffled.

The tension in Toga’s shoulders instantly left, her posture easing as her hand dropped away from her face. “Yeah, thanks.  Are you feeling okay?  I could try to do this myself this time…”

You balked at the thought of Toga treating her own injuries.

“I’m fine right now, I promise.” You replied. 

The blonde shrugged and fully entered your space, although her folded hands in front of her body communicated she didn’t want to touch anything.

“So, a guy jumped you in an alley?” You asked.

“Yeah.  He was big, too.  And had a quirk that gave him extra reach on his arms.”  Toga explained.

You weren’t quite sure what sort of errands required Toga to be in alleyways, but you had a feeling none of them were good. The curiosity pulled at you - you could feel the question on your lips, but you swallowed it down.  When you had first joined the League, you and Shigaraki had discussed the importance of compartmentalizing your role from the others.  You were the only one out of the group who was defenseless after all, so as the weakest link within the League, you had both decided it would be best if you knew as little of the League’s affairs as possible, in case you ever got captured and questioned.  You were allowed to participate in general discussions regarding the League’s next moves and what areas were important to you that you wanted to focus on, but the nitty gritty details were kept separate: private meetings with other villains, locations, times, that sort of thing.  So, despite your curiosity, you knew not to pry.

Instead, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “but I can’t get this to stop bleeding.”

“Let’s take a look.” You gingerly removed the cloth from the wound to see a deep gash in the skin before new blood filled up. You placed the washcloth back over the wound before it could spill over.  “Hm. Better keep that on there.  You’re going to need stitches.”

“I figured.” She grinned. She took over holding the cloth to her head while you grabbed your medical bag.  You escorted her into your bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat. Her outfit was speckled with blood, some of it from her wound, and, you suspected, some of it not.

“So…” you started, as you washed your hands in the sink. “What happened to the thug?”

“I drained him.” She replied cheerfully.  The casualness of her statement filled you with a confusing mixture of fear and pity.

“You killed him?” you asked, as you prepped your needle and thread.

Toga looked at you with her yellow feline-like eyes.  “He would have killed me if I didn’t.”

“Tilt your head back.” You instructed.  Toga did as you said, and you carefully removed the cloth before placing your fingers over her open wound. She winced slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxed as your quirk soaked in. 

Silence filled the room as you cleaned her wound with antiseptic and set to work.  The heavy quiet dragged on as your mind mulled over the girl next to you.  You had a thousand questions in your mind, but none of them seemed very appropriate to ask, not without upsetting her.  And despite your good standing with the League, you made it a careful point not to get on anyone’s bad side.  It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust them, although a part of you was always wary around those who were willing to commit violence.  But you also understood on a personal level that the problems these villains had went far deeper than society was willing to acknowledge.  Mental illness, quirkology, environment… all of it played a role in dealing the hand that these outcast individuals had been dealt.

Minutes passed as you stitched up the cut and cleaned the blood from the sealed wound once more. You were washing your hands when Toga finally spoke, her voice soft.  “Are you mad at me?”

You paused to look down at her.  Her brow was furrowed, her mouth pulled into a sulky frown as she stared at her hands. She looked like a child waiting to be scolded, and in that moment, you could see how young she still was.  You gave a soft sigh.  “Of course not.  He attacked you, right? You had to defend yourself.”

You paused then followed up with, “I’m sorry you had to do it.”

“Don’t be…” she replied. “I liked killing him.”

Your hands faltered as you began putting away your supplies and Toga noticed. 

“You don’t like it, do you?” she asked, accusation lacing her voice. She was defensive, waiting for your judgement. 

You couldn’t blame her. No doubt her quirk was something she likely struggled with all of her life before finally giving in to it.  She had never given you her story directly, but it wasn’t hard to guess.  Everything about her – from her ramblings to her actions - spoke of a caged animal who finally got a taste of freedom and refused to be captured.

Contradicting feelings warred within you, and you struggled to wrangle them.  You had to admit, you hated the idea of her killing.  More importantly, you knew that her victims weren’t always street thugs, villains, or corrupted heroes.  But at the same time, despite this uncomfortable fact, you also understood how strongly quirks affected behavior, how it could act like a poison, messing with the mind and forcing its way into being expressed.  It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it; you understood it intimately.

You looked down at her and a familiar sense of pity unfurled in your gut, snaking into your veins, pulling at your emotions even as your core roiled at the idea of needless violence. She was just like him... a victim in her own way, despite the horrific things she did.

“You think I’m a monster.” Her words cut through your thoughts, and your attention refocused on her. She had her knees hugged up to her chest, her feet propped on the closed toilet lid that she occupied.  You mentally scolded yourself for abandoning her as you got lost in your head and crouched down next to her.

“No.  I don’t think you’re a monster.” You answered soothingly.

“Then why do you look scared of me?” Toga demanded. 

You gave her a smile that you hoped reached your eyes. She was more perceptive than you gave her credit for sometimes.  You had to choose your words carefully. 

“I’m not scared of you.” You explained.  “ But I am a healer, Toga. I see someone who’s hurt, and I want to take that pain away.  It’s what my quirk is. It’s a part of who I am and it’s what motivates me. So, I won’t deny that it’s hard for me sometimes to understand why you do what you do because it’s so opposite of how I am.”

Toga averted her eyes, her body tightening in on itself.

“But…” you continued as you placed a hand on her forearm, “I’m not scared of you.  And even though you do monstrous things, I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Toga slowly lowered her knees, letting her feet touch the floor as she stared at you.  “Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” you replied, “You still care about people.  You and Twice were the first to welcome and befriend me when I joined the League. And the way you take care of Twice… like he’s your big brother… that counts for something.  You even care about Dabi, even though he’s an ass. That was why you checked on him that night, right?  You treat each of us like family.  Now why would a monster do that?”

“But I still want to cut you guys all the time…” she confessed.

“I know.  But you don’t.  That should count for something.”

Toga smiled at you with teary eyes.  “You’re so nice, big sis.”  Her compliment made you smile. 

Toga hopped of the toilet with a nimble bounce, signaling the end of the conversation.  “Am I all done?”

You nodded.  “You’re free to go.” You announced.  Toga made her way to your bedroom door, but she halted when you called her name.  “Toga… don’t forget to change your clothes.”

Toga looked down at the bloodstains splattered across her school uniform.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Thanks, big sis!”

She left your room with a jovial wave.  As soon as the door closed behind her, you slumped down onto your bed as you removed the white mask from your face and placed it on your nightstand.  Exhaustion washed over you again, deeper this time than it was before.  It wasn’t even so much due to your quirk since you didn’t have to use very much of it this time.  Instead, your mind focused on Toga, replaying the conversation.  It filled you with a swath of competing emotions; pity, anger, frustration, helplessness, fear.  The feelings swirled in you making a rank stew in your soul, old and familiar.

This was just like before.

You shoved the feelings aside, unwilling to look too closely at them. You already had enough on your plate as it was… you didn’t want to dredge up more of the past.  It would only add more stress and it wouldn’t change anything.

You laid down again in the hopes that this time, finally, your sleep would be nightmare free and uninterrupted.

 * * * * *

The withdrawal-induced restlessness Dabi felt lasted throughout the day, making sleep near impossible.  To keep himself from going crazy, he forced his energy into cleaning up his space, despite his typical disdain for chores.  He straightened up his desk, took out the trash, and most importantly, did his laundry. It was overflowing and stank of mildew, and he was in desperate need of clean towels.  His bed was no better, reeking of sweat and infection and covered in chip crumbs. But while his body appreciated the movement, the lack of mental power the activities required did little to distract from intrusive, obsessive thoughts.

He wasn’t sure which thoughts he wanted to avoid more - thoughts of his family or thoughts of you.  The memories of family were old and familiar, but the emotions in them were raw, threatening to suck him in and shred him to pieces like it’d already done so many times before.  But thoughts of you weren’t much better, at least not to Dabi. He didn’t like the warmth he felt each time he thought of you, and yet he kept going back to that feeling, like opening the fridge to stare at that last piece of cake.  He was at war with himself, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

Somehow, with all of his coming and going from his room, he somehow managed to never run into you. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but like all other uncomfortable thoughts, his forced himself not to focus on it.  It shouldn’t be important.  You shouldn’t be important.  His mouth pressed into a thin line.  The number of times he had to tell himself that were becoming too many to count, and it never did seem to make much difference.  

The cleaning only occupied him for so long.  Towards the end of it he found himself sitting in his room, waiting for his clothes to finish drying so he could retrieve them.  He had laid back on his bed just for a moment, to stare at his phone. He woke up an hour and a half later, his mind muddled with jumbled dreams and memories.  Cigarette smoke, a child’s laughter, the sound of himself screaming in agony…

He shook his head to knock the unwanted fog from his brain and grabbed a smoke to soothe the shaking in his hands.  The cigarette was gone within a minute.  The haze still lingered though as every inch of Dabi’s nerves hummed and his gut clenched in discomfort.  So, he inhaled a second cigarette for good measure and followed it up with an electrolyte drink paired with a couple of antacids.  His laundry was likely done now; no point in letting it sit there and risk another League member touching his things.

With the laundry dry and sitting on his bed in a crumpled heap, he stared at the contents, a frown on his face.  Your towels were mingled with his, and the sight of it filled him with an uneasiness that had little to do with his withdrawal.  It looked entirely alien to him, intrusive in his personal space.  His stomach gave a weird flutter before giving way to a wave of nausea.

Stupid, he thought to himself.  They’re just fucking towels.

He began folding the first towel. It was half-assed in its effort and one hundred percent intentional, as if giving careful care to your items would give away something about himself he wanted to keep secret.  But even as he did so, intrusive curiosity crept into his mind.  How did you fold your towels?

Idiot.  He caught his wandering mind and reeled it back in forcefully, but it did little good. His mind was a master escape artist, running away to explore other unwanted thoughts without his permission as soon as his mental back was turned.

As he folded your items, his hands slowed slightly in their actions, taking in the feel of cotton on his fingers. He watched as he rolled the soft material between his thumb and forefinger while memories bubbled forth, broken and vague.  Waking up in the shower, sitting on the toilet with your towel over his head, feeling of your hands working the cotton over his wet hair. He tried not to think of your face, but of course not wanting it made it appear in his mind.  He remembered your eyes, the concern in them, and the memory filled him with a warmth that he was still struggling to understand, even as he tried to deny its presence. 

It was short-lived – the memory of your tender gaze soon faded away to a terrified one, and now he was remembering your scar.  A new thought came into his mind then, dark and plaguing. The look of fear you’d given him that night - did you wear that same frightened expression on your face when you were burned, marked by whatever asshole laid their hands on you?

Dabi could feel his body temperature begin to rise.

The last towel was folded, and he swiftly grabbed the pile and shoved it on top of his dresser as if were contaminated.  Contaminated with memories, contaminated with you…

He faltered for a moment, his anger disrupted by that strange sense of guilt that gnawed at him.  The unwelcome mental picture of you cowering in fear as flames licked your skin danced in his imagination.  No wonder you had been so utterly terrified of him that night. No wonder you’d been unable to look him in the eyes the next day…

Dabi caught himself staring at your things and forced himself to turn around to finish his laundry. He folded his clothes swiftly, not caring whether or not they were done nicely before shoving them into the dresser drawer. Then, with his clean towels in his arm, he went into the bathroom to give himself that much-needed shower.

 * * * * *

You woke up feeling groggier than usual as the orange-red glow of the late afternoon haze filtered into your room. As predicted, your sleep was restless and riddled with hazy uncomfortable dreams that instantly began to fade away as soon as you opened your eyes.  You sighed in annoyance as dissatisfaction slinked across your tired skin. It was as if you had slept the entire time with your body tensed, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and now you were feeling the effects. 

You got out of bed with a stretch to ease the stiffness in your muscles.  Maybe something to eat and drink could lift your spirits and wake your body up.  You slipped on your shoes and opened the door before remembering to grab your mask off of your nightstand.  Then, you left your room to trudge downstairs.

The smell of pizza greeted you as soon as you stepped out onto the main floor, and your stomach growled in response, your mouth watering.

“Y/N!” Toga cheered. “Did you take a nap?”

You frowned as your hand self-consciously went to your messy hair. Was it really that obvious?

“Yeah, I was pretty tired.” You confessed, as you tried to fix your stray strands.

“Are you feeling any better?” Magne asked.  You could tell she was asking about the ‘flu’ you were supposed to have.

You shrugged. “Yeah, a little…”

“And how about Dabi? You were treating him too, right?” Magne continued.

You felt embarrassment bubble in you, and you scratched at your cheek as a distraction.  “He’s doing okay… I think it’s hitting him harder, though. He’s probably going to need some more time to recover.”

“He came down here yesterday without a mask and everything.” Spinner grumbled. “Then decided to take a stroll.  He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”

You shrugged. “Stomach bugs are weird and vary from person to person.”

Shigaraki’s voice surprised you from behind.  “How’s his burn?”

He knew about that…?  Maybe Dabi said something the day before.  Either way, no point in lying about it now…

“It’s doing well... but it’s not completely healed yet.”

Shigaraki grunted and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the bar.

“Hey, Y/N!  You want some pizza?” Twice offered.

“Yes, that’d be-“

“She can’t eat pizza when she has the flu!” Toga scolded.  “She might throw it up.  She needs something simple!”

Your heart sank.  No pizza??

“No, it’s okay…” you started, your eyes staring at the perfect slice.

“I’ll go make you something, okay big sis?” Toga chirped as she bounded lightly towards the small kitchen behind the bar.

Oh… oh no….

“Oh, um… it’s okay Toga, I’m not really hungry…” you tried to call after her, but she was already gone and out of earshot.

You fiddled with your hands nervously.  Cooking was not one of Toga’s strong suits.  Fortunately, Kurogiri was present, watching the exchange.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t burn down the kitchen.” He commented, as he followed after her.

You stood there awkwardly, strongly contemplating grabbing the entire pizza box and running away with it. But you’d just had that personal exchange with Toga earlier, so abandoning her when she was trying to do something nice for you probably wouldn’t go over well.

Damn it.  You were too nice for your own good sometimes.

On defeated feet, you walked over to the couch and sat down next to Compress who was reading a book. He put the item down as you sat next to him and gave you a smile.  “How nice of you to grace me with your company, little flower.”

You crossed your arms and sulked into the couch cushions, wishing they would swallow you up.  “Toga is cooking for me.”

“Oh dear, so I heard.” He commented.  “However, Kurogiri is supervising her.  Perhaps this time it won’t be so bad.”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” You pointed out.

“True,” he laughed. “But perhaps you set your standards too high.  I never said he’d ensure that the food is good; however, his assistance may ensure that it is edible.”

“Don’t you use logic on me, Mr.” you replied, even as you tried to suppress a smile.

“Then perhaps a magic trick then?” he offered.  “As a distraction.”

“Sure.” You grinned.

A few minutes later, Toga came out with two steaming bowls sitting on a rectangular tray.

“Oh good! You’re still here!” Toga smiled.  “I made you soup!”

You stifled a groan as you stood up and stared at the contents.  It… didn’t look bad…. It looked like it was canned soup at least, which, all things considered, were one of the simplest things to make. Still, it had that a slight burned odor to it when the steam reached your nose.

“Why are there two bowls?” you asked.

“Oh!  One’s for you and one’s for Dabi.”  Toga explained.  Behind her, Magne chuckled at the table.  “He hasn’t come down to eat yet today so he’s probably hungry.”

“It was my suggestion.” Kurogiri stated.  “You are still sick after all, so it would be in the League’s interest if you and Dabi had your meals in your rooms until you are no longer contagious.”

“Maybe it can be like a little dinner date!” Toga added.

You fought the flush of hot heat that seemed to take over your insides.  “A what?”

The last thing you needed was the League thinking you and Dabi were dating.

The blonde girl giggled as she handed you the tray.  Her hands instantly went up to her hot cheeks, her eyes glazed over with infatuation. “What I wouldn’t give to have a private dinner date with Izuku!”

“Oh geez, not this again…” Spinner grumbled.

“Hey!” Toga shot at him.  “It’s rude to tease a girl in love!”

You were grateful that Toga was easily distracted, and you took the opportunity to make your escape. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll go take this upstairs then… Thank you, Toga.” You mumbled.

You walked out of the room quickly, the soup sloshing in the bowls and threatening to spill.  But you wanted to get out of there before things got even more awkward.  Toga wasn’t even the real concern – the real concern was Magne.  Her chuckle had not gone unnoticed by you, and she was a master conversationalist when she wanted to be.  The last thing you needed was more intrusive questions or implied statements, especially with everyone there to listen in.

You took the stairs instead of the elevator, not trusting the old rust bucket to run smooth enough with bowls of hot soup in front of you.

Dinner date.  You wanted to laugh.  Dabi certainly wasn’t the type to do dinner dates.  In fact, Dabi probably didn’t even date. He probably just hooked up with random girls whenever he felt like it.

Your stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.

It didn’t matter.  You weren’t his type anyway.  And he shouldn’t be yours, not with all of his baggage. And boy, did he seem to have a lot of baggage.  Besides, he didn’t need the pressure of someone pining over him while he struggled to keep himself together.  He needed someone he could trust.  He needed a friend.

You felt yourself start to calm as you centered yourself on that single fact.  He needed a friend. You could do that.  You’d already committed yourself to it.

You made it to your own room and set the tray on the floor outside your door so you could go in and grab your medical bag.  If you were going to take soup to Dabi, then you might as well treat his wounds and give him his pills.  It was about time for it anyway.  With your bag slung onto your shoulder and the tray once again in your hand, you went over to his door and knocked.

It opened and you froze, eyes wide, as a warm humid air wrapped you up in the scent of shampoo and body wash.

Dabi stood before you in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination.  Shit. It hadn’t even been a full five seconds and you were already staring at his crotch.  Hot embarrassment flooded you as you averted your eyes, only to get stuck on his glistening, bare form.  You’d seen him shirtless many times, had your hands on his body, even… but something about this moment was different.  Maybe it was the shower.  Maybe it was the simple - yet absolutely sinful - sweatpants.  Or maybe it was how he seemed to be carrying himself in this moment, like he was the king of his domain.  He was a living art piece, every angle of him stunning from the slope of his shoulders to the cut of his lean waist. Even his stitches looked beautiful, the light bouncing off of them like gems.  Whatever it was, Dabi seemed to be a thousand times hotter than you remember him being, and it left your brain feeling dumb as hot desire washed over you.

You were staring.  You knew you were staring but you couldn’t break the trance he seemed to put you in. Your eyes took in the cut of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips.   Aqua blue eyes stared at you in knowing amusement, grabbing you like the tide and pulling you in.  You could feel yourself floundering beneath his intense gaze as you struggled to get a hold of yourself.

“Uh…” you stuttered.

You were still staring.

“Hey, Doll­…” He greeted, a playful grin on his lips.  His voice washed over you, and you felt lightheaded.

This was so embarrassing.  If he had any doubts that you found him attractive before, then he certainly didn’t now.

“Hi.” You said dumbly.

His eyes broke contact with yours to look down.  “Hey-” His hand shot out to quickly grab the tilting tray, soup splashing messily over the sides of the bowls.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” You cursed, as you adjusted your hold. You kept your eyes down, unable to stare at him any longer.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” 

Was that a chuckle you heard in his voice?  How dare he.

You crossed the threshold, only to find yourself even more smothered by the clean scent of his recent shower that permeated the entire space like a fog.  Beneath it, the faint hint of cigarette smoke was present, but it was muted.  The light in the room was dimmer than you remembered and you realized why – he had put one of his shirts over his shoddy lamp, reducing its brightness.  The humid warmth in the room was paired with a strange heavy silence.  Your eyes instantly checked his window and there was no billow of the curtains this time, no street noise coming forth.  Your breath froze in your throat for a moment as you realized – he remembered.  All the things that had bothered you this morning were modified for your arrival.  A weightlessness swelled in your chest, intertwining with the attraction you were still grappling with.  You set the tray down with shaky hands before wiping your sweaty palms onto your pants.

Dabi came to stand next to you with his towel on his shoulder, the warm bare skin of his chest brushing against your arm as he stared down at the bowls.  With his proximity so close and your own emotions running amok, it took every ounce of mental fortitude not to hug him right then and there.

“Did you make that?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh, uh.. Toga did.” You finally said, as you moved slightly away from his bare skin.

“We should have let the tray fall.”  He stated as he stared at the contents with distaste.  You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, and it helped clear some of the brain fog.  He gave you a soft glare.  “Why did you even take this?  You should have just said no.”

“Well, not all of us can be as nice as you, Dabi.” You teased.  “Besides, she wanted to do something nice for us because she thinks we’re sick.”  You explained.

“If I eat that I probably will be.” He retorted.

“Oh, come on… it’s probably not that bad… just a little smokiness to it.  That shouldn’t bother you, right?” You put a spoon into a bowl and handed it to him.

He gave you a deadpan look as you held the bowl against his chest, his hands refusing to take it. “I’m not eating it.”

“Hey, if I have to eat this, then so do you.” You glared.

“Like hell.” He replied. “Besides, I already have food here.”

You set the bowl down and stared at the bags on his desk.  “Yes, chips, beef jerky, and cigarettes!  So healthy.”

“The three basic food groups.” He agreed with a grin. He sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread wide as he slouched back.  It took extra effort to not let your eyes wander.  “Tell ya what, doll… you try it first.  If you don’t throw up or die, then maybe I’ll consider eating mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your bowl.  “Fine, you big baby.” 

You filled your spoon and raised it to him in a mock toast before placing it into your mouth.  He watched the motion in silent amusement, his eyes focused on your lips as they closed around the spoon.

It was awful.  Definitely burnt.  And the parts that weren’t burnt were overcooked, making the textures all wrong in your mouth.  You swallowed forcefully, suppressing a gag.

“Mmm… You look like you enjoyed that.”  Dabi teased.

“Hey at least I’ve actually tried it.” You shot back.  “So, I guess that means only one of us is a little bitch.” 

Dabi’s eyes widened, the light in them dancing in amusement, as a grin spread across his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, doll?  You’ve been with the League too long.”

You pointed your spoon at him.  “Don’t try to act like you know me.  And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead.  So eat up.”  You picked up his bowl again and held it under his nose. By this point, you knew the soup wasn’t really that edible, but now you were determined to have him suffer with you.

The smell wafted up and he wrinkled his nose.  He pushed the bowl away back towards you.  “I don’t think so.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “You said you’d try it if I did.”

“I said I’d consider it.”  He replied. “It’s been considered and denied.”

“You’re an ass.” You pouted. “It really is awful though…” you confessed.  “and she had Kurogiri with her, too.  Like… how?”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” Dabi replied.

You laughed.  “That’s what I told Compress!”

Your conversation was interrupted by a loud, hungry rumble in your gut.

A low chuckle rumbled from Dabi’s chest that made your heart pound and your flesh feel warm.  “C’mon doll, don’t torture yourself.” He said. “Why don’t we just go get a bite to eat. There’s nothing keeping us locked up in here.”

Toga’s words echoed in your head.  Dinner date.  Oh geez, if she or Magne saw you two leaving the premises together, you’d never hear the end of it.  The offer was tempting though, and you were pretty sure Dabi was starting to get tired of his snacks.  Junk food could only satisfy for so long; at some point he needed a proper meal.

But something nagged at you as you stared at the man in front of you.  He seemed to be doing okay at first glance… his recent shower certainly seemed to lift his spirits.  But you had been too distracted by his attractiveness earlier that you hadn’t taken the time to really assess him.  Now, you could see the exhaustion still in his face, could see the small wiggle of his leg and the drumming of his fingers on the table.   You checked the time on your phone – no doubt your quirk and the pills were beginning to wear off.  But how far along that was, you couldn’t really say; it was hard to tell with Dabi; he didn’t show his pain very easily.

You knew your appetite would disappear once you pushed yourself into sensory overload.  But Dabi couldn’t wait, even if he might try to play it off that he could.  More importantly, you didn’t want to try to deal with a withdrawal-suffering Dabi out in public. Your heart sank slightly. Goodbye delicious dinner, for the second time that night.

“…I should probably treat you first.” Your eyes landed on his bag of goods as your stomach rumbled again. “But maybe a snack would be good.” You confessed.  You felt embarrassed for asking, especially after the big show you’d just point on… but pride had to take a back seat before your stomach ate itself.

His blue eyes stared at you for a long moment.  You could feel your skin start to prickle under the weight of them.

“Sure, doll.”  He finally said.  He rummaged through one of the bags until he found what he was looking for under a bag of spicy chips.  “Is this your style?”

He tossed you a prepackaged muffin about the size of a softball.  You couldn’t fight the smile that blossomed across your face.  “Yeah, thanks.”  You opened up the wrapping and began breaking off pieces of it.  “You want some?” you offered, holding the muffin towards him.

He shook his head. “Nah.  Don’t feel much like eating.”

You broke off half of the muffin for him anyway.  “I still need to give you your pills, so you should eat something first.  Besides, this is too big for me to finish by myself anyway.” 

Was it a lie?  Of course. You were starving.  Did Dabi know that you were lying?  Of course.  But he took the other half of the muffin anyway.  You sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his chair as the two of you ate together in silence for a moment. As you ate, your eyes wandered around his room.

That was when you noticed it.

 “Are those my towels?” you asked. 

Dabi looked over at his dresser as he stuffed the last of the muffin into his mouth.  “Yeah.  They’re clean now.”

“Thank you…” you replied. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details.  “You cleaned up…”

Dabi shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete slob.”

You stared at him as he began fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, tapping the box on the table, flipping it over, and tapping the other end.  Over and over it somersaulted, and you wondered if he was craving one right now.  Why didn’t he just take one out and light it up?

Was Dabi… being considerate?

Then again, the action didn’t come as much of a surprise to you as it might have before.  He’d been more willing to do small acts of kindness ever since the night of his withdrawal.  Bringing ramen.  Adjusting his room for your sensory overload.

Now this.

Was it fueled by guilt? Or did he actually care?

He looked like he was waiting for something.  You watched as he rubbed at his scarred arm with his free hand, irritation flashing across his eyes.  Of course. He was waiting for you and your quirk. You ate your muffin faster.  As soon as it had disappeared into your mouth, you reached for your bag and took out the pill bottle.  His eyes were on it instantly, the shaking in his leg stilled by the sight of it, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

“Here.” You offered, handing him his pills.  He took them and swallowed them dry before opening up a beverage and taking a swig.

Dabi eyed the bottle in your hand as you closed it.  “That’s looking awfully low there, isn’t it?”

You put the container back in your bag, enclosing it in a zippered space.  “It’ll be enough to last us through tomorrow morning.”

“That’s cutting it real close, don’tcha think?” he replied.

You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern and offered him a reassuring smile.  “It is.  But I’ll be picking up the refills tomorrow before our evening session, so there’s nothing to worry about.  Now let’s take a look at your back real quick.”

He stood up and dragged his chair over to where you sat and straddled the seat with his back facing you. The bandage was still on, but you could tell it had gotten wet in the shower.  You’d have to be careful when changing it this time, since the bits of skin that were starting to heal might reopen.

You applied your quirk first around the bandages, then began to delicately remove the wet gauze and tape. Your fingers were cold on Dabi’s skin and a small shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of your touch.  The wound didn’t show any signs of infection or fresh damage, so you continued business as usual, applying the antiseptic followed by fresh gauze.  As you patched him up, your eyes kept drifting to your towels, thinking about what had happened that night.  There was something important you’d been meaning to ask him.  Something you had to know.

“I… have a question.” You ventured.

“Hm?” Dabi responded, his head turning slightly to the sound of your voice.

“The next day… after I helped you out that one night… was there anything… off?  About you specifically?” you asked.

There was a long pause and you could tell Dabi was thinking heavily, which only made the dread in your gut sink in deeper.

“I couldn’t feel anything.” He finally admitted. 

“I’m not talking about the pain.  I’m talking about… I don’t know.  Anything else.”

“I know.” He replied. “When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything.”

Your brow furrowed and the dread hardened into a stone.  “…what does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t care about a thing, doll.  Everything was turned off.” He was facing away from you and in that moment, you wished he wasn’t – you desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.  Your hands felt clammy as you processed his words.

“You mean your emotions?” you clarified.  You needed to understand more.  You needed to know how bad it was.  “What… did it feel like?”

“Empty.”

You finished putting the last bandage on him but you barely noticed as your vision became unfocused, your thoughts whirling.  Holy shit. You had turned off his emotions?  You supposed in hindsight it made sense, since it was likely his memories and the emotions attached to them that were torturing him that night.  Why else would he have been blabbering incoherent apologies as if he were desperately trying to atone for something? But still… the severity of that made your blood run cold. Emotions were everything, contrary to what some people might think. They fuel how people think, how they act, how they react… entire personalities – entire identities are built around how emotions are felt and how they are dealt with.  You very well could have entirely erased Dabi as a person. In fact, you likely did, at least temporarily.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and tried to calm your panicked breathing.  “…How long did it last?”

He was quiet again, and the silence was worse than anything.

“Please tell me.” You begged.  “How long?”

“Hours.”

Your heart was racing and your ears ringing.  Your eyes began to sting but you fought it, focusing on a patch of scarred flesh on his back to distract yourself, memorizing its pattern.  You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again.  And certainly not twice in one day.  You wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but you couldn’t make the words come out, not without your emotions spilling out with them.  Instead, you forced yourself into action, treating his scars with your quirk. 

There was so much more you wanted to know. How did he get his emotions back?  What did it feel like? Was it slow, or at all at once? Did he feel relieved?

Did it hurt?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask those questions, no matter how badly you wanted to know, no matter how badly you wanted to understand.  They were too personal, and you could already tell by Dabi’s growing reluctance that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

You’d apologize to him. At some point, once your emotions were under control, you’d apologize.

You finished numbing his back and shoulders, even tracing down his triceps a little.  “Turn around,” you instructed.

He did as you asked, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you.  You avoided looking at him, the shame and guilt far too heavy for you to lift your eyes.  Unbeknownst to you, a frown pulled at his brow, his lips.  You wore your emotions so plainly…

You took his hand in yours and continued your quirk as your skin began to prickle and sting. The sound of the shower dripping in the bathroom was louder now. Dabi shifted slightly in his chair and the scraping sound against the floor was like nails on a chalkboard.  The odors in the room went from pleasant to offensive.

“I gotta question for ya,” Dabi suddenly ventured.  “Did you change my clothes that night?”

Your hands faltered and you glanced up at his face before you could catch yourself.  His eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite place in your distracted mental state.  You felt embarrassment creep across your skin.

“I did.  I had to get you into the shower before you combusted.” You replied as you continued to treat him, your hands on his collarbone. The feel of it was so familiar now…

“I was naked?”

“Only for a moment!” you replied.  “You were in your boxers for most of it, but I had to change you out of those after the shower.” God, this entire conversation was so embarrassing… why did he have to ask about this of all things?

“…did ya peek?” he asked.

Your mouth struggled like a fish out of water for a moment as you glared at him.  “NO!” You finally exclaimed.  “Of course, I didn’t!  Why would you even…”  but then you saw the grin on his face and you realized he was teasing you. 

You playfully punched his arm.  “You’re an asshole.” You fumed.

He laughed.  “That didn’t even hurt.” He mocked.

“Of course it didn’t, idiot. I already used my quirk there.” You shot back.  “Now stay still so I can get your damn face.”

“So feisty…” he murmured.

Shit.  With your senses heightened, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice, as if he were closer to you than he actually was. For the briefest moment, it distracted you from the growing pain of your scar, from the sound of the drip drip from the bathroom shower.  You wondered what it would feel like to have those words uttered against your skin, his hot breath warming your flesh, the feel of his rough lower lip brushing…

You clenched your jaw until you nearly gave yourself a headache, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of your mind.  You weren’t here for this.  You were here to treat him and get out of his space.  You weren’t his type.  You repeated it to yourself like a mantra, a prayer, a reminder to the illogical part of you that wanted to follow the lure of his voice.  Why did he have to be such a flirt?  It didn’t surprise you, but it certainly left you feeling confused when his actions and words sometimes contradicted themselves.

All it meant was that he was getting comfortable with you again. He was treating you like a friend, and friends teased all the time.  Right?

His eyes watched you closely as your hands caressed his jaw, relieving the ache there.  You seemed lost in your thoughts and while you certainly didn’t look comfortable, you also didn’t look too be too horribly in pain. You were doing better today.  Still, your fingers danced quickly across his skin, skating under his eyes which he instinctively closed, and barely touching his lower lip.  It happened far too quickly before the presence of you disappeared, and it left him feeling empty.  How badly he wanted to grab your hands right then and put them back onto his face. 

When he opened his eyes again, your own eyes were downcast as you stretched your fingers slightly.

“You okay?” he ventured. The question sounded odd coming from him, even to his own ears.

You looked up at him then, and you could see he was concerned. That’s right… he knew about your quirk and your scar now.  You clasped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.  Shaking from the pain you were feeling, shaking from the fear of your own thoughts and desires.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Did he know you were lying with this too?

He knew.  In fact, you’d given him the same false words he always gave you.  It was like looking into a mirror.

“You don’t gotta do the legs.” He offered.  “I’m not dressed for it anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You chided.  “Of course I’m going to do your legs.  The better I treat you, the better you can rest.  And your body needs rest to heal your burn.”

He noticed that you made no comment on his withdrawal, which a part of him appreciated; it helped him avoid the discomfort of shame that was always associated with it. Still…

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, doll.  I won’t be needing them.  Besides, the drugs help.” He replied.

You eyed him for a moment, assessing.  “How about I just do your calves then?” you bartered.

He assessed you in return before he gave a small half-smirk.  “Deal.”

By the time you’d treated his calves down to the tops of his feet, you were definitely grateful you didn’t have to do any more.

PING……..PING……

You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache as you skirted just shy of overload. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe the lack of visual stimulation might make the auditory more bearable.  Or at least bearable enough that you could actually move your body instead of feeling frozen.  But it only made it worse, allowing your brain to hyperfixate on it. You covered your ears against it as you struggled to find your way out of it, to regain control of yourself.

While you lost yourself in your senses, Dabi watched you in displeasure.  He’d made sure to have everything ready before you showed up.  He even made sure not to light up a cigarette, as much as that had grated on him, since he knew the smell would linger long after. But clearly, something was bothering you.  What had he missed?

He watched, waiting, giving you time to figure yourself out or ask for help while he secretly tried to decode the mystery.  Your eyes were closed, your hands over your ears.  Was it multiple sensory attacks?  You flinched again.  And again. There was a rhythm.  So, it was something you were hearing.

Curiously, Dabi closed his own eyes listening for anything that stood out.  Slowly, the quiet sound of water dripping greeted his ears like a whisper.  He opened his eyes just in time to see your flinch match with the sound.

That was it.

“It’s the shower.” He commented. 

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement.  You opened your eyes and looked at him with surprise before giving a nod, your hands still over your ears.  He knew his shower leaked for a bit after he used it, but he’d gotten so used to it that he just tuned out the sound by this point.  But for you… especially after using your quirk on him…

Why didn’t you just get up and leave?  Why stay here if it was bothering you this much?  Obviously, you wanted to get away from it…

Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe, for some reason, you were stuck in what you were experiencing, unable to find your way out.

Dabi could relate to that.

And he didn’t like it.

He stood up and closed the bathroom door before returning to sit in the chair in front of you, waiting.

You could still hear it. But it was manageable now, muffled. Quieter.  You could feel yourself start to process the rest of what you were feeling.  The pain on your back; the feel of your clothes, your hair; the smell of Dabi’s body wash, fresh linen… cigarettes.  Slowly, your hands lowered from your ears as you focused on each sense, identifying all you recognized.  The world was still loud around you, but at least you could somewhat function again. Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him watching you through an unreadable expression.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.” You replied. “Thank you.  Again.”

“It’s fine.”

A heavy, awkward quiet filled the space, and in that moment, despite Dabi’s kindness, all you wanted was to be back safely in your room.  Maybe it was because you were feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions, unable to properly control how your heart pounded around him, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, his expression unreadable yet his gaze intense, as if you were all that he was focused on and he was determined to discover all of your secrets.

Either way, you felt an ache grow within you, threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t dismantle it or bury it, not while your brain fought the senses overwhelming you. You could handle one or the other… but you couldn’t handle both.

You needed the comfort of your room; you needed your safe space.

“I’m… going to go lay down.” You said quietly, as you grabbed your bag.  It felt heavy in your hand.

If Dabi noticed the shift in your mood, he didn’t say so.  Instead, he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah.  Me too.” He replied.

Despite the suddenly aloof atmosphere, he still walked you to his door.  After you left, he leaned his back against the cold wood and ran his hand down his face.

So much for not caring…

________________________________________________

Part 10 ________________________________________________

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