#anyway feel however you want about the show but don’t act like people are marching in the streets against bad batch 😂😂😂

[phantom-of-the-keurig]

“Controversial show” lmfao my dudes I don’t know how to break it to you but outside of tumblr and Twitter, people do not hate the bad batch

Like I get why we’re upset with bad batch, im not a fan of the whitewashing either.

But if you actually step outside which I know is rare for some of y’all and actually engage with casual Star Wars fans (literally from coworkers to random people on the street with Star Wars related merch) you’ll learn most people feel one of two ways about the bad batch

1. They haven’t seen it

2. They have seen it, and find it at the very least mildly enjoyable or just okay

That’s it. That’s literally the vibe the majority of people who go outside not online feel about the show

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m not saying you can’t dislike the show, or feel upset about the designs of the characters. I get that, and that’s justified.

But don’t act like The Bad Batch is Last Jedi levels of controversial in the greater public discussion lmfaoooo

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

POISON AND PLEASURE

Osamu Miya (Post-Time Skip) x Mob Boss! Female Reader

“Backed into a corner, Osamu makes a deal with the devil -- you.”

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: oh boy. Dub-con (Osamu does consent, but it is coercion); MANIPULATION AND EXTORTION; slight gun play, lasts for a moment; Rough sex; Hate-fucking; Degradation/Humiliation; Spanking, also just for a moment; Oral sex, fingering; Orgasm Denial; Choking; Violence; Dash of corruption and prey/predator; Deep throat; Facial. Fucking in a kitchen/public place. Also, just in case, toxic relationship and money talk (lol). 

Word count: 9,889 (such a nice number)

A/N: Oh, this has been a ride. This is my contribution to The Smut Pile Collab, hosted by the lovelies @present-mel​, @pleasantanathema​ and @linestrider​. I’m very excited to participate, since it is my first collab and they are my (home) first server. Big, huge, gigantic thanks to Lauren (my wife) for reading this over and beta-ing for me. <3

Well, Osamu fuckers unite! :insert elmo fire: (i’ve been on discord too much)

Osamu gets up from his seat inside his small office, looking from the small window on his door inside the already closed restaurant lit only by the lights that come in through the windows, the time being well after closing. Shady deals are mostly done late at night, he thinks. Right as he’s leaving the office and closing the door behind him with a key, the movement outside catches his eye and Osamu turns just in time to watch as the black BMW sedan of the year quietly comes to a halt right in front of his store. He frowns, knowing who that means. He'd much rather deal with the soldier responsible for his loan initially than with you.

Two men emerge from the front doors of the car, one immediately heading for the passenger door while the driver checks the street; they exchange a small nod before the man on the side of the sidewalk opens the passenger door and when he does, he positions himself behind it and immediately out of the way. Osamu could be intrigued by the action if he didn't feel so represented by it - he, too, would prefer to always be out of your way.

There’s power in the way you move, ingrained in your body as you descend an expensive white heel onto the concrete beneath you on the sidewalk, the other following suit while you propel yourself out, holding the frame of the car for support. It’s late at night and the street is fairly dark, but your simple presence, clad in an impeccable white suit with a deep neckline showing immaculate skin, is enough to brighten the place. There’s an elegant, expensive-looking and equally unnecessary coat draped over your shoulders and your hair was flawlessly styled.

You draw attention as the color black absorbs light-- from all and everything. Maybe it is because of your soul, he muses.  

Once you were standing outside the car, your driver marched to the door of the onigiri restaurant, holding it open for you while you strode inside, heels clicking on the pavement, the sway of your hips something Osamu may think beautiful to watch if it weren’t you.

“Hello, Miya-san. Hope you have better news for me this week.” You state as cheerfully as you can, calmly entering the establishment in a glory of white. You shed your coat once you passed the door, the driver catching it while the second man seemed to survey the outside area a little more before entering.

"Hi." Osamu extends his hand with the brown envelope. But you go around him and walk to the counter, calmly sitting down on one of the high stools while absentmindedly looking around his small restaurant.

“I missed my lunch today, so I hope you don’t mind me grabbing a bite before I leave.” You don’t look at Osamu when he doesn’t move for his place behind the counter immediately.

“We’re closed.” He says and you turn around just momentarily, piercing eyes on his profile. One of your men is still by the door and the look he gives the twin is also very compelling. Osamu feels his teeth gritting against the pressure he makes to shut his tongue. "Sure."

One of the goons comes closer and takes the brown envelope from his hands, without you even looking back as the burly tattooed man sits in one of the booths and starts counting the money.

“So, how’s business? I’ve heard you had a hard time these last two months.” You try to make small talk while checking the menu over the counter, carefully done nails threading along the restaurant menu. You only press a long nail against what you want and slide it to him, the 18K diamonds on your small and discreet Cartier watch and matching trinity ring on your finger catching more of his attention than your watchful eyes. Your jewelry is discrete, tasteful, and still amounting enough to buy the whole building where the Onirigi’s shop is located. Osamu's throat moves around nothing in reflex.

"Isn’t it obvious?" He grumbles while working against the counter, starting once he cleans his hands on the sink. He’d like to say his eyes keep diverting to your neckline because of your shining jewelry.

"So rude, Miya." you chuckle. “And I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Didn’t you pay for your little plumbing problem with my money? Is it only dirty to you once I’m present?”

"I don’t like people like you." Osamu doesn’t beat around the bush. And once he’s done with this payment he’d be completely free of you anyway, he doesn’t feel the need to pretend.

“Like me? You mean kind? All I ever did was help you out in a time of need.”

Osamu’s snort is disrespectful. The big man by the door moves but a simple turn of your hand in the air has him standing back, carefully looking down on Osamu, but unmoving. The other’s still counting the money rather calmly, the booth he’s seated unseeable from the shop window.

“You see, disrespect won’t take you far.” You say offhand, your watchful eyes on Osamu’s every move but with no real worry. You don’t trust him, but you know he’s not stupid.

"I don’t plan on it." He answers you after a beat, finishing wrapping the Salmon onigiri, disposing it carefully on a plate, and depositing it in front of you, accompaniments arranged around. Osamu doesn't use the fact that he doesn't like you as an excuse for a half-ass job; he's not the type, which is refreshing. Is what you like about him.

“Get started on a few others. I trust your recommendations.”

Osamu chooses to work quietly, in silence. You, however, are happily chatting away at his high stool as if this is just another day of bullying patrons. Maybe, for you, it is.

“You work very diligently.” You observe, eyes trailing from his toned arms to his deft fingers diligently working on the rice ball. He’s fast and experienced, rolling the nori around the triangled shaped steamed rice after successfully filling it with whatever he chose. Osamu just grumbles out something, or tsk, even when the way you look at his fingers takes an unexpected appreciative turn. 

“Maybe I should have you working overtime more.” You muse when he finishes the new onigiris and carefully places them in front of you. Osamu eyes you nastily, clearly displeased at your comment, which makes your lips split in a bigger smile despite your teeth closing around the rice ball. Even so, you’re pleasantly surprised by their flavor. 

“See, this is why I like you, Osamu.” The man frowned at your loose use of his first name, the way it rolls off your tongue so nicely. “You always deliver good work.”

“It’s my job.” Osamu retorts, unamused. “I do it right even if it’s for…” He catches his tongue right in time, his eyes catching movement from the man seated down at one of the tables, almost biting his tongue in the process. “--people like you.” 

Osamu watches while the burly man with tattoos moves discreetly despite his size, bends down so his mouth can be on your ear level, and murmurs something to you that he doesn’t quite catch. Your steely eyes are momentarily looking down when they blink and fly back to his face, a deep, blank stare that makes Osamu’s brows furrow. His back becomes straighter, a gripping feeling in his gut that triggers his fight or flight. 

He presses the urge down - tells himself he doesn’t have anything to fear.

He’s looking down at you, but Osamu feels small under your steady glare. Which in reflex, after several years of being stupid in pair, makes him want to act up.

"Seems to me you forgot some money, Miya."

"What?" His shocked tone is harsh and his eyes dart between you to the two men behind you, looking as steady as his walls and just as broad. "I counted it twice, everythin’ I owe ya ‘s there." His accent comes out pretty hard when he’s agitated.

"You only have fifty thousand here."

“I owe ya fifty thousand.” Osamu deadpans, almost sneering. “What ’re ya sayin’?"

“No, Miya. Fifty thousand is what you owed me two weeks ago.”

"You gave me an extension." He argues, brows furrowed.

"Exactly. I never said anything about the interest.”

"What?"

"You forgot the interest." You talk to him as if he’s a child, lips turning upwards at his confusion. Osamu has the gut feeling you’re enjoying every second of this. Every little moment of his deep discomfort. “You were informed about them when you accepted the loan, you know how they work. If you don’t pay on the due date, 10 percent interest each extra week you remain in debt.”

"Are you telling me I'm missin’ over 10K in interest rates?

"Yes." You say, smiling while tilting your head sideways, analytical. "Because you are."

“I'm paying you back,” Osamu grits through his clenched teeth, almost as if he’s willing it to be true, “Everything I owed ya is there. ”

"Not quite. You’re paying me back about--” You smile and press your lips in thinking, eyebrows furrowing while you calculate on your head the exact number.  “-- 82 percent of what you owe me.”

Osamu’s fists close, veins bulging while his heart picks up with the adrenaline rush of a fit of rage. Aggression flows on his body to the point where his entire frame trembles. His teeth are clenched, tightly forced together by his pressed jaw. His brain cannot reason beyond the need to vent that outrage, and with every second he spends looking at your pretty-faced indifference sitting in front of him at the counter, his outrage slowly merges into fury. Osamu stares back at your emotionless eyes, turns, and walks two strides before burying his fist in the nearest plaster wall, the pain grounding him, soothing his nerves. 

Pain is familiar -- what Osamu doesn’t like is to feel so deranged.

"Fuck!" He exclaims loudly but still controlled, turns his broad back to you, breathes deeply a few times, and then settles. You watch in delighted silence as he moves to the freezer, grabs an iced pack of random food, and puts on his busted knuckles, his eyes on the hole he left on the wall; The twin sighs audibly, then walks back while coldly regarding you and your two watchdogs who look over to him carefully, almost startled.

You, however, didn’t even flinch.

"So how much do I still have to give you?"

“I think the better question is: Can you pay?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Osamu grumbles out, his clenched jaw working over grinding teeth.

“That’s not how this works, Miya.” You tell him, your spine regally straight on the high seat as if it is your throne. Your lips move around the next word with malice. “When.”

“I--” Osamu stops to think for a moment, coldly calculating his financial situation. He has no way to withdraw money from the main branch to try and cover the losses of this branch, that would be simply stupid. There is no way for him to borrow money from Atsumu, who doesn’t know the concept of savings; Kita can not help him with such a great amount and he can’t recur to his poor parents. He also doesn’t want to resort to a bank at all, which doesn’t leave him many options. A new extension raises interests and he doesn't think he can do it beyond the amount he would need to add. Osamu's chest slowly fills with dread - he knows what’ll come if he doesn’t pay and he refuses to let his business become a Mafia parlor.

You watch Osamu slowly and quite meticulously calculate his options while engrossed in reasoning his dreadful situation; it’s thrilling, you almost can’t hide the contentment blossoming in your chest at his desperate situation. 

His expression shifts and turns sour, before slowly building back his blank façade but it’s too late, you already know his conditions and capacities - it’s your job to know. And you pride yourself in never making bets, just assuming calculated risks, so Osamu is right where you wanted him to be.

You do suspect the black-haired male is the same, that disinterested stare in his handsome face nothing short of sharp, his aloof behavior making every second of rilling Osamu up to this manifestation of discomfort all the more delightful. His only problem is that the man plays by rules you don’t. And what you want, you take.  

“I’ll need an extension for the rest.” He finally says, so absolutely angered it’s almost a curse. Even the hostility in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine, all the hairs on your arms standing on edge while your insides slowly melt, fed by the images in your brain.

“Really?” You playfully answer, faked surprise not made to convince anyone. Osamu seethes in place, labored breathing making his chest move up and down. “See, now I can’t help you out. I told you disrespect would only take you so far.” 

You get up from your seat, a show of touching your expensive black plump Louboutin on the ground. “I can’t let you out like this, not when you did such a show of being… rude.”

“What do you want.” Osamu almost spits at you once you’re rounding his counter, entering his space, closing on him. But he holds himself in place by pressing his nails hardly against the inside of his palms.

“First, some respect.” You sultrily say at him, much as a viper luring its prey. It rolls off your scarlet lips while you look up at him from your long lashes and perfect face. It makes Osamu want to wreck it.

“I don’t respect you.” He says in undertone since you’re close, sounding much like a hiss. 

“Doesn’t seem like a smart thing to say to someone to whom you owe so much.” You purse your lips, fake pout. “And you seem like a smart man, Miya. Or am I wrong?”

Osamu blinks, brows furrowing while he looks down at you, his mind working.

“Where are you going with this?” He eyes you warily, his eyebrows furrowing, his mind trying to gauge the target of your wicked intentions. “You want something.”

 You smile, pretty red lips stretching to show a beautiful line of white teeth and he’s surprised that the poison isn’t dripping. 

“See, I knew you were smart.”

“I’m not giving you my business.” Osamu hisses, like a cornered animal, but his instance shows he’s more prone to fight than flee. 

“Don’t want it.” You’re quick to tell him, innocence so out of place that it makes even clearer that you’re being honest. “I may need… services, though.” 

Osamu’s spine shoots straight once again, his eyes sharp boring into your face with cold disdain.

“I’m not laundering your money.” 

“Money launder, Miya? That’s a federal felony.” You lean back, supporting yourself on your forearms against the balcony, vigilant eyes zooming on him. “Are you saying I’m a criminal?” 

Osamu stays silent for the first time. There’s a predatory glint in your eyes that he understands as a warning, but that doesn’t stop him from upturning his brow and tilting his head in a small challenge. Osamu is appalled at what your upturning lips do to his guts, swallowing the saliva that pools in his mouth. He must be wrong in the fucking head to feel anything else than disgust in your sight, but even so, there’s no denying the way there’s a devilish pull around you, like the temptation of a capital sin.

“What I mean is… I have a specific service for you, personally. So you could pay me in...” Your tongue snaps against the roof of your mouth with a small noise, lips turning up in vile intention, “Different goods, per se.”

Osamu refuses to accept his train of thought, eyes pressing into slits while he watches you. His tone enunciates every word of his question. 

“What do you mean?” 

Your answering smile is sordid.

“You know what I mean Miya, we’ve just established you’re not stupid.”

“I’m starting ta’ think you are, though.”

Your laugh is loud, cheerful even. It makes him look at you as if you’re insane.

“Maybe.” You chuckle, retreating your arms back and straightening your posture on the tool, your neck tilting to the side. “But when I want something, I want it. So why deny myself that? I find the whole point of self-control to be so… pedestrian.” There’s this contempt in your tone at the word, mixing into trivial once your shoulders shrug your consideration for a whole chunk of what living in a society means. “Why hold myself to it if I’m above?” Osamu chooses to ignore that question.

“And what if I say no?” 

“You’re free to do what you want, I don’t own you.” Yet, you think, smiling. “Then again you still owe me 10k in interests and with your measly weekly 5k profit and the increased interest percentage with the second extension, we know what’ll happen to you…  And I’d hate for that to happen to you.”

The silence is heavy and acidic, burning on him. And you let the seconds pass, relishing in the way he seems to grow aggravated, jaw overworking around nothing to bite, hands in fists by his side. 

Oh, you’re close to defiling the pristine white of your designer clothes, the feeling brewing inside you threatening to spill between your thighs. Osamu looks absolutely delicious while being so emotional. 

You can see the gears turning inside his pretty dark-haired head, his eyes looking around and back at you, threading down your face, to your neck to the plunging neckline of your suit - you elongate your body while he watches, pleased to have his eyes on you, especially when they're burning with unattended violence and aggression. 

Osamu’s always so detached from the events happening around him, so unshakable in that aura of apathetic tranquility that it has caused you to develop an almost macabre interest in making him desperate. And now you are continually enjoying the result, the awakening of the flames that you always knew existed inside the small business owner.

 A few minutes pass while you’re just content to watch, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you appreciate the size of his shoulders, the strength hidden in the strong biceps, the broad, defined torso that you know exists under that simple black outfit simply by gut feeling alone. You are tempted to ask him to turn around so that you can also enjoy his backside.

“Ok.” He says in a breath that seems more like it was ripped out of his chest. Like a dead man last world. You like this analysis. But of course, he can’t have it so easy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear. Did you say anything?”

Osamu purses his lips in discomfort, almost bites his tongue in the process of not telling you to go to hell.

 “I said,” he entones again, though his disdain is showing. “Ok”

“Ok, what?” You press. Oh, the way how his veins bulge on his forearms when his nails press on his palms have your hairs standing on end. You blink at him with a smile, all too pleased with yourself.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” Osamu squeezes out, brows furrowed in discovering your intentions. You’re leering with wicked prowess. 

“I don’t think that's how you say it, Miya.” Your brows go up in the tiniest indication of irritation. Your voice is calculated, though unable to hide the elation.

“Ok… Miss. I’ll do anything you want.” The words come out of his mouth sounding nothing like submission and much like he just cursed your whole generation, teeth grinding. Still, it makes you smile. You don’t want to break his spirit -- that’s why you chose him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” You say, pushing yourself out from the counter where you supported yourself. Coat long forgotten on top of it, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, knowing exactly how you look and very pleased at the way his eyes ever so slightly thread down your plunging neckline. “But not so fast. I didn’t tell you I’d accept it-”

“Ya just--” Osamu almost explodes, the arms he holded closed in front of him being thrown in the air as if he’d be ready to grab you. You just turn a hand up and reels at how he actually shuts up right after.

“I just told you, you could pay me in services.” You continue, one step closer to him in your expensive shoes, plump red lips dripping wicked intent. 

“But,” You start, closer to him enough that your breath is touching his heated skin and you can smell the sweat his aggression produced, your mouth salivating at the thought of tasting it on his skin. 

Your finger rests on his chest and you thread it up while speaking, looking him in the eyes, so pleased at finding so much life in his usual dead stare, “I don’t know if you’re good enough for the job yet.” 

Osamu stares back at you, hands in fists forcibly stuck next to his body, feeling the way your hot breath trails on his jaw and hating himself for what it brews in his insides. 

You stretch up in your heels, mouth dangerously close to his, which rests ajar to let his breathing out, enough that he can taste your mint breath on his tongue. 

“I think I may need a little…”  Your eyes thread down to his mouth and then back to his eyes while you speak your next words, “--taste, you know?”

Osamu flexes his fingers, swallows dry around his closed throat, stares at your face -- so close the downright devilish smile on your red lips seems to narrow his field-view -- and he blinks. 

The Miya thinks how he wants to wipe that smile off your sinful lips. How he wants to have you trembling, unattended, and disheveled. He thinks about you begging with his name on your tongue, for a release that he’ll keep denying at his disposition. Osamu thinks about leaving you sore and marked, thinks about wrapping his hands around your neck to watch as you struggle, turning purple, life evading you while he fucks you; consider this may be the only way he’d ever had the opportunity to get even close to a payback. 

Osamu wants you to experience mind-numbing pleasure you’d never before, uniquelly brought by him… and suffer through the rest of your fucking disgraceful life without being able to taste it again once he’s done paying his debt. Because Osamu swears on his fucking name and whole life, he’ll never give it to you again.

He can see your future already and in it you’re fucked - both by him and for him, while he’s the one who gets away. The twin wonders if you ever lost anything like this in your life, can feel himself growing hard at being the one to make you cry. 

“Sure.” Osamu smiles, lopsided, the devil himself being safer than him. “I’ll give ya the taste ya deserve.” 

Your eyes press slightly closer in mistrust, the wicked intention pouring from his body so close to yours impossible to miss. Either way, it's your win; that’s exactly what you’ve been bargaining for, despite your game being rigged from the start. 

You bring your face close to his as if you were going to kiss him and you are delighted when his eyes go down, although not completely closed, his pupils focusing on your lips. 

You smile and retreat, turning to your men still positioned exactly where you left them, behind the bench where you were sitting previously. They remain so observant and sharp as ever, despite looking more like gargoyles than men.

“I’ll need a moment.” You tell them in a serious tone, calm. They both look at you for a second and nod, their stances changing very little despite it. You turn back to him but walk inside his establishment as if you own the place, pushing through the doors that lead to the back and inside his small, equipped kitchen. Osamu follows in silence, briefly wondering if he’d be able to snatch a knife and bury it in your chest. 

There’s not much outside cooking paraphernalia, with two big counters and taller than normal table in the center. You stop right in front of it, your hand threading over it for a moment. 

“That’ll do.” You say while you turn around to look at him. You look so strikingly bright in the middle of his rather normal kitchen, clad in both lavish clothes and unblemished skin; he wants so much to be able to say your sight doesn’t thrill him -- but he can’t lie to himself. 

But then you pointedly eye him and then the ground in front of you, “Kneel.”

Osamu considers his previous thought about burying a knife deep in your chest but walks, stiff, to where you indicated. He kneels with even less disposition than when he walked towards you, the descent slow until the ground’s hard tile is registered against his knee. He makes a point of looking into your eyes as he lowers, hatred overflowing in waves that seem to give you a sick satisfaction, your eyes becoming slightly out of focus.

The Miya’s about to ask what you’d want him to do next, like pledge himself or some shit, when your hands move to the hidden zipper on the side of your impeccable white pants. 

It drops to the floor in one go, displaying the graceful planes of your hips, appeasing spanse of flesh, a small triangle of silk hiding your most private parts. Saliva pools in Osamu’s mouth at the sight, his teeth pressing against one another to avoid betrayal. He’s still unsure of what’s his next step until your heel digs on his shoulder painfully, using him as leverage to prop yourself up on the high table. 

His eyes snap to yours while he bite his tongue to not curse you out loud.  There’s a gun on top of his head that is a big warning for Osamu to behave -- not that he’d have the chance to escape with the watchdogs outside his only exit. If he had, you could be dead already. 

Your suit threads up when you move up and slide on the table, the white silk panties peeking in between your open thighs. You move your beretta calmly off his face and thread it slightly, almost fondly, over your naked thigh. 

You make a small show of removing your finger from the trigger and depositing it far on the table, enough to be out of his reach and almost yours too. You look back at him once you’re empty handed and just so open right there on the table for him. 

“Behave, Osamu. You know you wouldn’t make it very far.”

Osamu grits his teeth but nods, your heel still supported on his shoulder but not digging on his skin anymore. You lay slightly back against his tabletop, forearms resting on the surface carefully. Dressed in a white, stylish suit like the last trend, the skin in between so bright it feels like a taunt, the curves of your breasts so ripe he wants to taste, the closed lapels looking like his own pathway to sin. He can feel his blood boiling, aggression throbbing, and he wants to paint you in red.

“Well then,” You start, happily above him, spread like a meal, “Show me if you’re good enough to pay your debt. Consider this your warrant.”

“Don’t worry.” Osamu drawls out with dripping distaste, his hand slowly, almost bored, threading up from your ankle to your knees. “I’ll fuck ya like you want it. Within an inch of your life.”

His hands lock on the back of your knees and he parts them forcefully, while you leave a yelp followed by laughter, your head thrown back with glee. 

You smell of flowers and spice, so expensive he was surprised that you weren’t dripping fucking gold. His palms slide through the back of your thigh and the skin under his fingertips is soft and firm, all shapes of heaven despite being in sole service of the devil. 

Osamu starts slowly, the table leaving you open just at the height of his neck while he’s kneeled on the ground, at the perfect height. His thumb presses on your skin while he holds one of your legs up, brings his lips to your knee. There’s a welcoming stain on your panties, and he scoffs at you despite the way his cock responds on his trousers. 

“I haven’t even started and you’re already wet?” The way you smile at him is both infuriating and bewitching. 

“What? Didn’t you enjoy our little foreplay earlier?” You tease him, plump lips locked under a row of teeth with mirth. His skin feels prickling and Osamu decides he needs more room, roughly pushing on your thighs until he can fit between them with room to spare.

It’s not fair, how good you feel, the delicious smell of your skin, the way your taunt alights him with fire in his veins. 

Osamu knows it’s bait -- and he’s willingly falling for it.

When his lips start to thread on the inner part of your knee and up, the twin does it with the intention to mark; he sucks instead of kissing, licks instead of caressing, and bites once he finds the plush meat of your inner thighs.

It stings and you let the smallest of sounds, but Osamu feels it in his gut, brings his hot tongue to soothe over it, bask in the way you tremble under his fingertips just enough for him to sink his teeth and revel in the pain on your groan. 

His nose treads along the furthest expanse of the joining of your thighs, touches the silk of your expensive panties, senses the way you tense and watches while your pussy trembles, even while still covered by fabric.

He considers holding back his tongue, but Osamu has never been the type to be held back by the threat of punishment. And you’ve shown to clearly enjoy his fiery side.

“Such an eager pussy right here, isn't it?” He threads his nose against the wet patch in the silk, carefully breathes against the covered lips. Osamu lets one of his shoulders bear one leg and brings his thumb to pass over the growing wet patch. “Sticky.” He presses it from the wetness to the place where your clit should be, watches as you respond to his touch with aborted movement. “Such a slut.” It’s supposed to be degrading, but there’s a hint of appreciation in his words that isn’t lost on you. “Is this all it takes for my debt? It’ll be finished in a second then.”

Your mouth opens to retort but closes in time to withhold a moan before it falls through your lips. His thumb’s pressing against your clit in tight circles while the index of his other hand threads over your covered cunt. Turns out Osamu has moves to back up the big talk. 

He’s methodical, clearly good and deft with his fingers, controlled pressure applied in a way that has you writhing on the table despite your intention to make this hard on him. Your desire to make him work for it, apparently, is no match for his. 

Osamu presses the tips of his fingers on your clothed entrance, enough force that it barely breaks inside you but the teasing has you churning on the table for him, legs trying to part beyond limits, body arching where it’s been relegated. Your chest feels hot and heavy despite the little clothing. You’re hoping for the moment where he’ll tease the hard nipples pressing against the flimsy lace of your bralet and the inside of your suit with the same intensity he’s depositing on your cunt.

Osamu, on the other hand, has no rush. You did this, gave this opportunity for him to wreck you, and he plans on enjoying it to the bitter end. He’s fairly surprised at how responsive you are, how quickly you melt for him, how vocal you can be despite doing little more than grunts and sighs. A thought flashes through his mind when he feels a renewed wave of wetness blossom against the fabric where his fingers are pressing, his lips turning in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Have you been so desperate for a good cock you’ve resorted to blackmail?” Your eyes snap open at his voice, a warm wave of something that you refuse to believe in being embarrassment depositing in your cheekbones. Osamu’s fingers prod harder against your entrance, fingers spreading against the wet fabric to your outer lips while his thumb keeps drawing endless circles around your clit. “Tsk, what a dirty move from an even dirtier slut.” 

He slaps your clit once, then twice, his bulking frame preventing you from closing your legs against the sudden pain. Your body trembles on unsteady forearms. You choke on a breath and then release a moan, the sound outrageous to Osamu even as his cock throbs from it. 

“Maybe I’ll give ya what you want.” The Miya teases, his voice sounding even despite the turmoil inside him. You look up at him with such eyes he could fool himself into thinking he wanted this. 

His fingers teether on the edge of your underwear, rough fingertips just daring to cross into the emanating heat. Your hips twitch, the emptiness inside you accentuated by your muscles clenching around nothing, desire pouring out against the prodding fingertips. Osamu snorts, throws you a hard stare that is equal parts fire and contempt. 

“You’re so wet. Are you enjoying this that much?” It drips acidic from his tongue against your neck, after he bends himself over you. From so close, Osamu’s warm breath is the same as a caress, his tongue teasing you with the way it threads over his lips but doesn't extend the courtesy to your skin. “You’re rather easy to rile up, hah? Or is it that you enjoyed playin’ with me before?” His teeth flash white above your head and you swallow around the desire of having them plunging on your skin. “How was it ya said? Foreplay, hah?”

You feel weirdly wound up inside your own skin, as if there’s not enough space and still a growing void inside you waiting for him to fill. It’s insane, it’s delicious, and a loud moan breaches your throat when Osamu plunges two fingers inside you without warning. 

Your body arches in such a curve your breasts press against his chest, the relieving brush too shallow to register in your brain when you’re hyper fixated on the sensation brewing inside you. 

It doesn’t even sting, instead you feel like your hunger escalates, fed by such little push that your want becomes need and for the first time in forever you actually consider asking for something. 

Your mouth opens, and Osamu snickers. “What?” He presses his thumb over your clit fast, relinquishes in the way you groan, feels the way your insides beg him to keep going. 

Still not enough though. He wants it ruined for you. 

“Maybe I’ll just make you cum on my fingers right here.” He spreads, scissor and twists them inside you, enjoying the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him at his every move. Osamu’s skin feels on fire, body overheating, and the way your lips turn up to reveal a line of white teeth in glee has his gut twisting. 

“You have a pretty loose tongue for such a quiet guy.” You look at him with semi-closed eyes, the victorious smile of the cat who got the mouse. “Maybe you like me more than you thoug--ahhhhh!”

Osamu shoves and prods around your insides for that special place even demons like you have and his assault is nothing short of merciless. Your eyes snap open at the force of his ramming, eyebrows furrowing at the way your pleasure seems to have forgone climb to skyrocket instead. Osamu watches in begrudging enchantment while your lips fall open to suck air into your breathless lungs and your eyes grow unfocussed, shoulders falling against the table so your hands can come to hold his arms but for what he doubts even you know. 

He’s not stopping. Until he does. 

You let out a noise like a wounded animal, tethering on the edge of mind numbing pleasure he won’t give you and when your body trembles from exertion of a denied orgasm instead of bliss, Osamu’s chest swells in pride.

“Whydidyoustop?” You lament in one breath, eyes are blinking back into focus, sweat and - oh he hopes those are tears - droplets dripping from the corner of your eyes while you turn to press your face on the cold metal surface of the table. “I was so close!” This time you rage, nails pressing against his skin enough to hurt.

“Wadidya mean?” Osamu tilts his head sideways, patronizing. “You didn’t ask for it. I’m just doing what you told me: being respectful.”

You laugh, still breathless, and turn to him in disbelief. “Fucker.”

“Not yet,” He corrects you, nuzzling his hips on your thighs. “Maybe if you ask nicely enough.”

Osamu retreats while you regulate your breath, letting your useless legs fall limp while both of his hands come to help your panties down, marveling at the way they’re peeled off your wet pussy lips. His cock aches and demands, but he’s used to reining in his dick. And he’s just started, anyway.

The Miya pushes you forward on the table, opening your legs wide like a treat. Your pussy is glistening, rhythmically calling for something to fill it while you leak. He plunges a finger back inside to watch you tremble, stimulation enough to make your eyes fall closed, long black lashes against beautiful sweaty skin. 

“Look at this.” Osamu plunges a second finger inside, opening them wide enough to sting. “What a desperate whore.” 

Your mind is swirling in urge, but you refuse to spill the words on your tongue. It would give you what you want, but at what cost? Osamu looks positively ferocious above you, dark eyes focused on your every move; it sends shivers through your spine, your body trembling and blossoming for him once again. You’re in your personal heaven, in company of the devil himself.

Osamu kneels again in front of your open legs, hook one on his shoulder while he holds the other thigh forcefully up with a grip so hard your muscle aches under his fingers. But you don’t care, in fact  you sigh “more” for him right as his breath teases your folds.

“No.” He tells you, two fingers pumping at leisure. His tongue slurps at your inner thigh, teeth closing in a bite with nothing to sooth. 

“Fuck.” You breathe out in a groan and his smirk is pronounced against your skin. 

Osamu, as you’re learning, is a tease.

His moves are soft, lacking in everything but aim; his tongue moves along the sensitive parts of your body you’ve never really cared for, like the plush flesh of your thighs, underside of your ass, the juncture of your groin. He has yet to taste you but you feel wounded, body constricted under weak ministrations, feather-like teases. It sinks with a piercing revelation that you could cum like this -- in an unfulfilled manner with not-good-enough touches that somehow have made your body feel raw like an exposed nerve in which the minimum touch would be enough to warrant waves of pleasure.

When his tongue comes to thread along your slit slowly, nose caressing along his way, your body clenches and threatens to spasm around unmoving fingers. You’re so close, so close, your body is ready to burst, fraying at the seams of a control you’re not using, your hands flying to try and find your clit at the same time Osamu’s eyes flash and he holds it, presses it forcefully against your belly while his lips slurp at your folds, circle your clit, but it’s so soft, it’s fucking unfair.

“Goddammit, Osamu!” You scream, enraged at the way your second orgasm flies away from you as his fingers leave your quivering hole, his mouth doing nothing more than lap at your overflowing juices with no real worry, no urgency.

“Oh, look at that.” The Miya smirks, drawing back up to look at your disheveled state; flustered, sweating, dripping and unattended. “You wanted a taste.” His hand comes back to your cunt, fingers thread along puffy lips. “I’m giving it to you.”

“You bastard.” His fingers leave your heat just to plunge inside again, a loud gushing sound following it. “Shit.” You sigh while falling back, and Osamu feels his cock throb once more at how breathless you sound. 

Your mind works around the feeling of being spread so far you feel as if you’re paper thin. Your mind goes rushing in its last attempt at working. Osamu looks self-satisfied, almost content, so you know where to hit. You want it, so you find a way to have it. 

“Oh, poor Miya--” You coo at him with a hoarse voice in glazed eyes, but the condescending tone is clear as day. “Are you trying to hurt me?” You plant a hand on his black hair, pulling at it enough to hurt.  “‘Cause I like pain.”

Fire explodes in his eyes and you tighten around his fingers in response, but other than his frown, Osamu remains calm. 

He slams three fingers inside before you can mouth any new words, smirks down at you with mischief when you tremble and bite your lips to hold the noises in, eyes falling back closed to hide the way they turn inside your skull. His other hand is holding your thigh forcefully open once again and his palm presses with hurtful intention, fingertips buried in your flesh so hard his digitals may mark you for days.

“Let you cum on my fingers and nothing else, is that going to be enough for you?” Osamu snarls against your ear, hot breath tickling your jaw. His hips hold you open to his assault at your pussy and his hand abandons your thigh to glide over your body and close around your throat. 

Osamu squeezes hard.

“Then again I could ruin your orgasm for the third time.” He bends over you, his lips right in front of your sight; eyes looking down at you with such fire you almost wonder if they’re the cause for the burn in your lungs. “Leave you writhing on the table, empty, until you learn to have a little respect.” 

This. 

Your lips spread in a smile almost maniacal, goosebumps rising on your skin as if you’re electrified. This is what you’ve wanted all along -- passion, fearless assault of words, electrifying pleasure; and also, the detachment, the murderous intent, all merging together in one perfect Osamu Miya. Shit, you think to yourself, at this hate you may actually come from his teasing alone.

“You talk too much for someone who didn't make me cum yet.” You pour gasoline into his fire. 

Osamu pulls you up by the lapels of your suit, button flying open at the hastiness, your breasts protected by such a flimsy piece of lace you’re surprised it doesn’t turn to ash at his stare. Your hard nipples mark the white bralet, the air feeling cold at how hot they are. 

A hand covered in your juices closes on your cheeks, forcefully opening your lips at the threat of pain, his fingers with lingering heat from your insides.

“Such a big mouth, should I shut you up?” Osamu asks you, eyes boring on yours. The plea is on the point of your tongue as if he’d shoved his hand inside you to yank it himself, and it tips out when his dark eyes steal one single snippet of your smeared red lips open by his hands.

“Fuck me.” 

He nods negatively, presses hard enough that your teeth could cut your inner cheeks. He relents and your tongue grazes your lips, moistening them for his eyes.  

Osamu smiles, a tilt of his lips up but so earnestly you’re almost hopeful, then: “No.” 

Even if as he says it, it’s a lie. He knows he’ll fuck you, but right now he’s enjoying the build-up, toying with you as if you’re his plaything and not the opposite. You growl and curse, head falling back when he palms at your covered breasts, push the lace up, hears the way it strains and threatens to rip. 

It’s oddly relatable -- Osamu also feels taut, stretched around a fleeting control that he feels will slip with one dip inside you. His past sexual experiences involved partners who he cherished and few one-night stands which, for the small time his dick was inside them, he was mindful and cared for their pleasure. 

Right now, while he pinches and palm at your body, he has not a single worry about your pleasure and all the concern about his. This is for him. He bends his head over your bosom, sucks a nipple inside the hot cave of his mouth and bites. As his cock twitches and aches inside his trousers, he relishes in the pained noises you leave, even when they’re marked by breathless arousal.

“You sure are fucked up. Look how much you’re enjoying this.” His fingers force the howl of your cheeks, feeling your teeth nicking the insides of your mouth even through layers of flesh. There’s an infuriating elation in your expression, and Osamu retaliates by sucking harshly on your skin, teeth finding soft places to close on.

You moan loudly and his hand slides back onto your throat in the motion. Your hand shots up from the table to find his hard dick and your laugh makes his blood boil. “Clearly I’m not the only one.”

His heartbeat spikes at the words, even if Osamu knows it. The twin pulls the suit jacket half-down your arms and slams your body on the slight cold surface of the metal table, noise sounding thunderous but still no one comes after you. 

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at the aggression, blood flying so fast through your heart you feel lightheaded. You’re about to spit some more fire into Osamu when two of his fingers gag you, other hand descending on your ass with such force and so unexpectedly your legs give out, dangling from the table as if you’re a ragdoll.

Something remarkably close to a whine turning sob slides through your throat and dies at Osamu’s fingers, just as something big and hot surges over your ass cheeks. Something coils on your chest, the emotion makes your eyes water and for a moment you blink it away, thanking the new position doesn’t let Osamu catch that. 

Too soon. Osamu pulls your head back as his hand peels the globes of your ass apart and before you can breathe, the little air inside you is being knocked out with one thrust of Osamu’s hip.

He forces his dick inside you, tearing you open as your walls make way for his aggression, wetness dripping while Osamu fills you to the hilt, because yes, that's what you want. You want his hate, his passion, you want Osamu to tear you apart while you enjoy every second of it.

“‘Samu!” His name is on your lips as your eyes roll back, whole body tensing until you’re falling, just like that. 

Then he retreats. “Fuck! Fuck no!” This time it’s a wail, a sob as your third orgasm turns to ashes, your insides trembling with nothing to hold, empty and meager pleasure. 

“Wha--Cummin’ already? Nope.” The twin laughs above you, hands tilting your head painfully back. “So embarrassing.” Osamu mocks you and you swear you can feel a renewed wave of cream slide down your insides to greet the head of his cock, nudging along your swollen lips. Your tongue feels so heavy on your mouth, parched and breathless all at once, no way out but silence. 

“You are disgusting, you know that? Such a greedy fucking pussy doesn’t deserve to be this tight.” 

Your laugh turns into a deep moan when Osamu hits deep inside you. “God yes.” You twist one hand out of the suit’s sleeve just to pull him by the hem of his blouse, your nails digging against the skin of his neck, blooming red yelts. “Talk shit to me Osamu. I know you have better lines.”

“Fuck you.” The twin spits, his hips pistoning harder against yours until he just stops the motion, leaves you open and gapping for him to fill you again. “Of course a pig like ya has the hots for humiliation. Look at that, the slut’s pussy squeezing around my dick because she thinks I'm doing this for her pleasure.” His hand comes down on the other side of your ass, where he hasn't hit yet. It stings, but the way his palm massages and grabs at it before almost soothes the burn. “Disgusting sluts don’t get to say anything, not even begging will get you what you want. I decide what you get."

You look back from your shoulder to see his cock is standing proud and angry, swollen head shining red and dripping translucent white, as if he hadn't been wet from your juices before. Osamu’s big, especially thick and he presses inside you again without giving you time to adjust, unforgiving pace right from the start.

You curse at the way one of your hands keeps locked behind you by your suit, your nails digging on your own skin without anything else to find purchase on; the other tries to grab onto Osamu to no avail, falling on the table to help support yourself at the strength of his pounding.  Your mouth is open, divided between sucking breaths and puffs of air. Osamu’s hand has since found purchase in your neck, the way he forces it back painful, the pressure on your throat growing and ceasing as he wishes. 

Still, you can’t think. Your mind is lost in a sea of searing pleasure, your nipples pressed against the metal surface as Osamu finally fucks you as you’ve been dreaming. No, maybe even better. The past men you’ve fucked had all been afraid of hurting you, careful with retaliation. As Osamu fists your hair and forcefully presses you against the table; you think you may be having a religious experience. Your eyes water from the force of his manhandling, tears spilling while you left unbelievable noises fall from your lips. You want to scream and laugh, a hot sensation spreading from your fingertips to your core. 

The wave of the orgasm is forming quickly, your toes curling against the insides of your Louboutins enough to hurt, the incessant pounding of Osamu’s hips against your ass sounding downright pornographic. As the peak approaches, doubt gnaws at your chest for the first time in forever. 

The simple thought of Osamu robbing you of your orgasm this time is enough to make your whole body tremble and recoil, your mind too slow to catch on to his intentions. You consider biting your tongue to hold the plea in, but as you bolt into mind-blowing pleasure you’ve never even imagined before, the alternative feels like dying.

You’re tethering the edge and you feel Osamu pressing harder against you, and you break. “Please!” You cry out, “Pleasepleaseplease, don’t stop.” His movements slow down and halt, and the hand on your ass slides around you, a single finger taps repeatedly on your swollen clit. 

“Say it.” He all but howls at your ear, bites on it for good measure.

“Please, ‘samu, let me fucking cum!” You beg but you’re already falling over, whole body shuddering just from the way he nudges his hips against your ass and taps on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Panic surges in between your pleasure that he’ll ruin this one when he retreats from your quivering insides, but Osamu rams back inside you with such power that your head rattles, hips hurting from the impetus of his fucking. 

Sound rings in your ear while you drown in the thunderous waves of your pleasure for what feels like forever. It flows and flows and flows to a point you can’t tell if you’re seeing black or just closed your eyes. 

Osamu watches, enthralled, how you go completely boneless under him. Your insides have stopped squeezing him tight but his hard, aching cock still throbs inside your heat. It’s honestly unbelievable how tight you feel around him, how fantastic he feels buried balls deep inside your walls. He had to stop trying to fuck you through your orgasm in worry he’d may cum. Poison and pleasure curl in his chest at the thought. Osamu feels like spanking you, choking you, to punish you for this undeserving heaven you have between your thighs.  

But he’s not done yet.

Osamu retreats, the slide of his cock leaving your delicious walls -- cold air from outside so less welcoming -- and you sag on the table. He pulls you up on unsteady legs and smirks, proud. Your bare feet touch the ground and Osamu spins you around, swallowing on a tight throat after one look at your disheveled blissful state, but then he retreats and let’s you collapse to the ground.

The image of your legs sliding open on the cold tiled floor, unsteady hands finding purchase to hold your torso up while your head looks up at him in outrage is one he sears in his mind, a wicked satisfaction sliding over his spine at the sight alone. The wreck of you at his feet, by his hands, nothing short of perfect. 

His cock throbs and pulses in front of your eyes, dragging your attention and Osamu steps closer, poses one hand on the top of your head, ruins the rest of your styled hair by dragging fingertips in it. 

 You’re still lightheaded, shockwaves making you twitch on the cold floor and Osamu is elated at how wrecked you look, makeup smeared, hair disheveled, body holded up by unsteady arms. Your lips are open, between breathless pulls of air and heavy exhales, but Osamu doesn't care, hands forcefully tugging your hair back and angling your mouth at his swelled cockhead. He counts as a win that you don’t bite him, your tongue threading flat on the underside of his length as he buries himself on your throat. 

There’s resistance, so the Miya retreats, forcing it back a few other times until it finally slides a few inches more inside. While he maintains the force over your hair, his other hand engulfs your chin, thumb breaching your lips to hold your mouth open despite the fact you don’t make any move to close it. 

It feels his chest with acidic bitterness that you welcome his aggression, glazed, tearful eyes looking up at him as if the fact he’s using you as little more than a cocksleeve is the brightest part of your day. Still, Osamu’s skin feels close to tearing under the sheer amount of pleasure flooding his insides. His hairs are standing on end, heart beating so fast his lungs burn, every muscle on his body tensed at his mindless pursuit of his high. He buries his cock deep inside the tight space of your throat, your gurgles and groaning enhancing his sensation. It looks painful to you to hold him inside, tears ending your makeup, face turning red at the lack of air. He closes both hands behind your head, making you nuzzle his pelvis even as your nails close on his thighs threatening to break skin.

He retreats to let you breathe just as your eyes go unfocused, feels something squeezing inside as you cough and wheezes and his throat squeezes a large gulp of air when you look up at him, tongue hanging out with a wide-open mouth just offered for him.

Osamu feels like hurting you at how good you are, infuriatingly obedient and willing to be at the end of his aggression. So he buries himself back inside at one go, both hands holding your head for him. There’s too much chaos inside of him, so he decides to pour some out through words.

“You like being used like this, huh? Like little more than a fucking cocksleeve for me.”

“What is it? Does being in power make you this needy? Does being wrecked make you feel this good?” Your groan makes your throat tighter around him, your eyes rolling back from his fucking and degradation.

It’s unfair, infuriatingly so, that this might be the most unbelievable great sex he ever had. 

Osamu can’t hold back much longer, everything feeling just too good, his skin burning at the stretch of the tourbillion of emotions inside his chest, the captivating sight of tears dropping from your jaw and coating your long lashes as your face darkens by the lack of air, swollen lips stretched beyond capacity around his cock while you willingly let him go harder, faster, into your tight throat. There’s a warm sensation flowing from his limbs to his spine, melting his bones and weighing on his balls until it spreads over Osamu’s whole being.

He pulls back from your throat in time but presses his hands on your jaw and hair to keep you up and open as he coats your wrecked face with hot spurts of cum -- the final touch to the perfection of your wrecked image at his feet.

It lands haphazardly over your lips and even your eyelashes, tear-stained mess of a face marked by his essence. Osamu tells himself he could never feel anything towards you, but for a second there’s a hint of territorial pride at how you look -- and how it is all his doing. The twin is still swimming in searing pleasure as you lick over your lips, hands almost fondly landing over his as if you're assuring him that he can let go.

He does, trying to step back and slowly descending onto the ground when his knees give out. His eyes are glued to how his cum is dripping from your chin onto your chest, how you bring your fingers to sweep over it and end it by cleaning the digits with your tongue. If Osamu’s cock wasn’t so spent, he’s sure it’d swell right back up at the sight alone.

“Can’t say what’s better,” your hoarse voice is barely above a murmur, “the taste or the feeling.”

As you’re standing on unsteady legs and already fixing yourself while he sits on the floor questioning his life choices, Osamu feels as if he’d made a deal with the devil, and you’ll be coming back to collect his soul.

“Seems like the start of a nice partnership, doesn’t it?” 

-- 

[animecreator3000]

About the Boueibu iceberg

@delphoxqueen asked me to explain about my list for the iceberg so here it is. I might update this from time to time with links and stuff if I stumble across the original posts. This is all from what I know so feel free to add new info. Also, spoiler warning for RobiHachi and the Boueibu manga and novels. (This is like a masterpost it’s very long)

1. There’s a theory in tumblr about which decade the series is set in, using data like the friday the 13th calendar in s2 ep11. In HK we got a second number for when the next monthly Pretty Boy Contest was happening and using the one from Love it was theorized that around a decade had passed since then, which ended up being true.

2. The stage play had a few original songs and characters exclusive to it so unless you watched the full performance, you probably weren’t able to witness all of them. One of the characters is called “Robato Deniro”, as romanized in the stage play booklet I own.

3. The nurse and the cafeteria staff from the s1 mobile game appear in the background in around the first half of s2 ep3.

4. S2 had an unfinished manga that was only available online and was never released on physical format; it was centered around the defense club and sometimes the conquest club and Beppu brothers. All that’s left from what I know are the scans linked on magicalgirlsandcerulean’s blog.

5. This isn’t that obscure because it’s talked about in the anime, but I’m mentioning it because I think many people dropped it before the ova, where right at the beginning it is revealed that the alien that resucitated Mr. Tawarayama twice was, as described by Io, a “mulberry-colored naked mole rat-looking thing”, and was nicknamed “Moley-san” by Yumoto. At least in the anime, we had never heard before of who this was and it never appeared on screen nor was mentioned again.

6. In HK ep8, Karurusu promises the knights to grant a wish if they show him how earthlings spend summer. Kyoutarou reveals at the end of the episode that he wished that summer lasted one more day so he could spend it doing nothing, which prompts Ichiro to theorize that it’s the 32nd of august, and the next day is the second 1st of september.

7. The stage play was was held from march 10th to 13rd, of which the latter is Ryuu’s birthday. There’s an additional recording of a small celebration with cake focused on Ryuu and Io.

8. Atsushi mentions his older sister in the flashback at the beginning of s1 ep4, but she never appears or is mentioned again.

9. There’s a few posts on tumblr theorizing about what happened to the Hakone parents since Yumoto only says in s2 ep3 that according to Gora, “they are busy with their hot springs tour”. En mentions that it’s a bit suspicious, but it’s all the information we have from the anime. Posts talk about the parents perhaps passing away from an accident or an illness, thus the reason why Gora was so worried about Yumoto’s cold in s1 ep10, but from another post I think it’s implied in the second novel that they actually left their home when Yumoto was still a toddler.

10. It’s no secret that the surnames of the characters are all real onsens in Japan that even the seiyuus have visited, but apparently the Arima onsen has two different kinds of water, “kinsen (gold hot spring)” and “ginsen (silver hot spring)”, with different properties each, and the Kusatsu onsen water also has certain properties, both that were used to build the characters. Additionally, Ryuu’s favorite food are Sato Nishiki cherries, which are grown in the same prefecture, Yamagata, as his onsen, Zaou.

11. The press club lose relevance after s1, with only Kinosaki and Tazawa reappearing briefly in s2 ep2 to interview the Beppu twins after they arrive at the school. Tazawa doesn’t even have lines. Hireashi is mentioned by Zundar in ep11.

12. What the heck

13. Exclusively in the manga we see that Arima met Kinshiro and Atsushi when they were little and they were good friends, but when they met again as adults, Kinshiro seemingly didn’t remember Arima. Atsushi, however, stated that Kinshiro’s talent is remembering people’s faces and names, so Arima wonders if he’s just trying to distance himself from him. He also explains to Akoya that he follows Kinshiro and obeys him because as a child, he was fascinated by his radiant smile. This is never talked about in the anime.

14. Like the previous point, the anime never shows Akoya being bullied, at most just a slight dislike of his full name, but the manga shows that he was made fun of for it and how he actually hates his surname, to the point of introducing himself formally to the president and vicepresident of the student council as “Holy Angel Akoya”.

15, 16, 17, 19. Batonama lives were the livestreams done through the franchise by the defense club seiyuus on youtube and niconico. They’re all on youtube, without any kind of translation.

Love-ko is a girl with a shell bikini drawn on a piece of cardboard that was used as a girlfriend in the Batonama Love! lives, acted by the seiyuus themselves.

RobiHachi has one episode full of official Boueibu artwork and a parody of the series too, a Love-ko doll appears, and Wombat appears as well, named “The Don”. It received an english dub, so for a bit, people were excited that Wombat was going to speak in english too. Also, various mechas appear in both Boueibu and RobiHachi.

18. The director of Fairy Ranmaru (Masakazu Hishida if I’m not wrong) revealed in an interview that he was inspired by Boueibu and aimed to make a show like that.

20, 21. The website super-groupies.com has results for defense and conquest club lingerie sets, dc and VEPPer tote bags, the Beppus’ scarf rings, dc bath sets and the pumps magicalgirlsandcerulean mentioned. I’ve found the s1 Loveracelets and Caerula Adamas’ ring on different sites, the True Loveracelets on TheChara’s twitter and the Happybraces (apparently called “Hapibure”) on broccoli.co.jp but I’m not sure where exactly they were all announced and sold, so I’ll just drop that.

22, 33. Boueibu was originally pretty much a copy of Sailor Moon, I think they were all going to be called “Lackluster Moon” and that stuff and be literally Sailor Moon genderbent. They were all different from color palettes to physical features (except Yumoto’s), and Ryuu was a shota, even smaller than Yumoto. Their names were also very reminiscent of the five Sailor Senshis’. Even if they made it more original, the show is still clearly inspired by Sailor Moon (just look at Caerula Adamas lol) and Pretty Cure. It has also referenced, very blatantly, animes like Doraemon, Detective Conan, Aikatsu and even Vocaloid, when Kyoutarou tries to guess what Karurusu is saying with ““Just Google It, Asshole”?” in ep1.

23. Wombat’s real name and the name of his planet sound like gibberish to the earthlings and ends up being named after the Earth animal, but Zundar, Dadacha, Karurusu and Furanui all have original names. And I think Hireashi means “goldfish”?

24. If you google “zundar technology”, it’s actually a company in Shanghai, China. Aren’t Wombat and Zundar always talking about “advanced alien technology”?

25. Zundar and Dadacha are siblings, so are Karurusu and Furanui, and so are their father King Kamopapa and their uncle minister Wao, but neither are the same species and, except the first two, not even the same color. But they are supposedly related because they share birthmarks or something like that...

26. Everyone who’s in this fandom knows about the pixel blur and voice pitch censor from s1, but I’ve added it anyway because it’s so rare for mahou shoujo and shounen animes to explain why the heroes aren’t recognized when transformed.

27. A good while of s2 ep11 is spent discussing Zundar’s ex-wife and his problems to give child support. Naturally, he gets mad at this.

28. “Money doesn’t betray” (s1 ep6) and “The despair hidden behind your smile that comes from not being understood” (s3 ep11) are sentences that came out of nowhere and implied that the people they were said by (Io) or about (Taiju) respectively had some kind of angst going on but were never explained at all. They’re famous for just that.

29. The Beppu twins’ house in Andromeda shown in flashbacks had strange green circles that apparently are from another anime I don’t know but honestly I didn’t get it very well... It was revealed on a tweet from Takamatsu.

30. Alien language mostly appeared in s2 due to the many flashbacks of Aki and Haru in Andromeda, but in Boueibu s1, it appears on the Zundar Needle before it is shot on the human. It appears a lot through RobiHachi as well, due to being a story about travelling through space. There might be an alphabetical chart somewhere, but I can’t assure it exists, I might even have dreamed it.

31. Hikaru Midorikawa as the melon monster, Kousuke Toriumi as the bishounen monster, Yoshitsugu Matsuoka as the kotatsu and panda monsters and Takuya Eguchi as the remote controller monster in s1 and 2, before going on to voice the main cast in HK. Keisuke Koumoto voiced Hatchi Kita in RobiHachi as well as Akihiko in Boueibu, and the characters look similar.

A new addition is that so far Boueibu is the only anime I’ve seen where children weren’t voiced by female seiyuus, but by actual children. Personally, it’s charming and makes it so much more realistic, specifically since no women appear in the franchise at all either (not counting Protag-chan in the game).

32. Speaking of seiyuus, Can I Destroy The Earth? had a dub shown in ep11/12 (?) that made Gora the villain that wanted Earth to stay the same and not progress, against the monsters that supposedly wanted to bring good things to earthlings. Aki and Haru quickly dismissed this dub as fake. (I made a mistake in the title in the previous post btw)

34. As seen in the glossary in the Boueibu Mook (I think, but might not be the mook), Caerula Adamas’ speeches are based on an old japanese detergent commercial that went “Gold, silver, pearl, gift”.

35. In the manga there’s a short parody of the first chapter of Sailor Moon with “Pretty Boy Guardian Gakuran Akoya”. The conquest club manga was released before the anime, so I remember reading somewhere that a fake website appeared for the Gakuran Akoya manga, before turning into the conquest club manga website in the day of its release.

36. Cgi was used a few times in the anime: s2 ep10 for a short sequence of the defense club on a rollercoaster and the carousel monster, ep11 for a cenital shot of the Battle Lovers singing, and HK ep12 for the Honyalaland soldiers and the Wao mecha.

37. The toothbrush incident in s1 ep7. (It’s definitely well-known but it’s so weird lol)

38. “We hope we can see each other again someday!” Something along those lines was the last text to appear in the last episode of HK, implying a s2. We all know how that went.

[the-good-bad-truth]

 I don’t know if it’s because I’m older now I can see Hollywood and the fakeness of celebrity culture but it’s like there are so many relationships or stunts that I think are done for show. Idk if you guys also notice this but in the past 2 years or so, It’s like every celebrity has found their soul mate, getting engaged and saying really cringe, crazy things about their love life. Today, we are going to be talking about the couple that really wants to win the trophy for the loudest Rockstar Hollywood couple and that is Machine Gun Kelly and Megan Fox. Are they PR or is it love? Are they toxic or joking? Do they deserve the hype?. I’ll also be looking at if they are compatible and the double standard that they have. Let’s start from when they met and where they were at in their lives/ career. They confirmed their relationship in May 2020 but they met in march 2020 when they were filming “Midnight in the Switchgrass”. Now if this isn’t already a flag that this could be PR, but, you know, co-stars fall in love all the time on set, so whatever. Before they met, Megan was still married to Brian Austin Green and they were together for like 15 yrs and had 3 boys. They were separated but that the public didn’t really know that. Anyways, during 2019- to when she met mgk she starred in two movies ,”Against the shadows” and “Rogue”. It’s ok if you never heard of these movies because they weren’t good and another thing was her Insta where she only had 9 million followers(this might not seem important but just wait). Basically what I’m trying to say is that she wasn’t that hot “it “ girl she was, she was forgotten about and her career was stale. As for MGK, he was doing fairly well in his career, in the acting roles he was given and he built a strong fan base and was already working  on TTMD by then. However, I do feel that his career, specifically his music career wasn’t where he thought it should be and this could be because of lack of label support and that stupid Eminem beef. He was also dating around a lot, like Chantel Jeffries and Sommer ray and his many hookups. He also dated this one woman named Heidi Gores from like 2015-2018 but I’ve heard they were kind of toxic. The important takeaway from Heidi was that he was extremely private with her, if he did post her on his Insta, he never showed her face. Then all of a sudden, he started dating influencer girls, where he became more public about. The one girl that is important to remember is Sommer Ray, who is a Insta model. He was dating her from like February to his b-day in April 2020. The funny thing is when mgk and Megan talk about how they met, they talk about how they fell in love on set in Puerto Rico and how when he touched her it felt like electricity. The thing is she said the same thing about Brian and how they met on the set of her sitcom. The other thing is that Sommer ray was with Mgk in Puerto Rico, like There’s videos of her picking up snails with him. Sommer ray has also came out and said how he was texting Megan while they were dating and how she thinks he cheated on her because she had a 3-month no sex rule. I honestly think that it’s messed up for him to do that to her, even though Sommer did break up with her bf of 2yrs to go with him and I also don’t like her as a person. I’m also going to assume that Megan knew about her and just didn’t care. The 1st time they were photographed was on May 1st, in his car and it was around the same time the “Bloody Valentine” MV was released. This is one thing that happens a lot in their relationship, any time one of them has something to promote like a movie, or photoshoot or Album, articles or paparazzi photos always come out around the same time. Another thing that makes me think that they are PR, is because they go everywhere together.  I know that there are also people who talk about how she’s not a good mom and I would have to disagree. I think she is a great mom but I do think that she doesn’t spend enough time with them, which I think could be bad because I feel that kids do need both parents. Like I figured her and Brian share custody and stuff but it’s like how is she supposed to have the kids when she’s in South America dancing in the rain w/Mgk. They also created Merch with them kissing and he always mentions her in songs or even when the songs don’t mention her fans think it’s about her.  Sometimes when they talk about each other whether in Insta captions or interviews, they tend to romanticize or sexualize toxic things, even though they say they are joking, it’s like then what else are u joking about. When he talks about her, he is kind of shy and hesitant but when she talks about him she makes him seem like a baby but also a horrible monster. Idk if it’s because I’ve never been in a relationship but I wouldn’t want someone referring to me as a demonic creature or strangely beautiful; I also wouldn’t want someone to say that they used to sleep w/ a gun before they met me. I think Megan also tries to overly prove that she is spiritual and highly intelligent. Maybe she is smart but she always uses really unnecessarily big words for no reason. For example, in one post she describes him as a Mercurial Svengali and in another post she calls him rehab Barbie. I looked up what Svengali meant and it refers to a man who seduces and manipulates a young girl and makes her famous and the rehab barbie is a reference to a girl who takes drugs and loses her father to cancer. Idk if u guys know this is but his dad passed from cancer and Megan knows this, so yeah. I also think that she also is trying to be this rockstar, Pamela Anderson, hot girlfriend with the way she dresses. The thing is it doesn’t really fit her, it’s almost as if she’s trying to make Jennifer check real but it’s not working. If I’m being honest, I think they do get along in the sense that they know that this will boost their careers and I think they have lust for each other, not love. I can tell because how they say that their soul mates and have crazy sex but when it’s time to hit the red carpet, cameras start rolling, their body language says otherwise. When they are filmed at the club, she always looks like she doesn’t want to be there and he looks like he wants to run and party with friends but can’t because he has to stay with his twin flame. Or in red carpets, they both are stiff and there poses seem too rehearse that It doesn’t seem genuine. You guys should also go look at videos of the carpets of these 2, it will tell u a lot.  I also forgot to mention that he wrote a song called “Sid and Nancy” and he says the lyrics is based off how she told him that if they couldn’t be together they should go out murder/suicide. There are so many more things that they said about each other but it would take forever. I also do feel that there is a double standard b/w them on who made who famous, who’s the hot one or how he is racist, creepy villain and we as a people have to rescue her from his clutches. First of all, she is a grown woman, and if she’s so intelligent, you don’t think she can save herself. I also do know about his past and the stupid things he said, but at the same Megan said some stupid things but when she does it she’s being a Taurus queen or giving Jennifer realness. I also don’t think that they are compatible because he seems like a goofy, fun, easy going person who likes to party, hang out with friends and be creative. As for Megan, she seems more of a homebody, who has a small circle of friends, keeps to herself and likes reading books. In some cases, these types of people can work well together but I have a feeling that they are both trying to turn themselves into each other. Like for example, he pretends and is now talking about chakras, astrology while she is trying to be edgy, dress crazy and talk w/teen slang. It also bothers me when people call him ugly, and she’s too hot for him. I'm just saying that the Met Gala and VMA look wasn’t it. I don’t know if it was because of the makeup, or if the bangs weren’t styled right and the bra she wore at VMA’s made her look greasy. To end this post, I think that they are PR but they both are ok with that because it boosts their careers. When it comes to love, he loves that he’s dating the hot 2000’s girl Megan fox and she loves that she is in the spotlight again w/out lifting a finger(now she has 20m followers btw) and that she has someone that is willing to drug/blood rituals with. There are also videos of them, where she’s annoyed at him, she’s probably tired that he acts childish and there are also rumors that he’s cheating. At the same time, you lose em how you get em, she took him while he was w/sommer and so someone else might take him. Just watch, when they break up, people are going to side with her, even if she was toxic and he’s going to be hated by her stans. But they both going be looking dumb or they might say something like we grew apart, twin flames are supposed to grow apart or something.

[koohiikori]

Hello I am in love with “Belive me” the Levixreader! I was wondering if you can do a part two ,like Erwin asks you to give paperwork to Levi but when you walk into his office you see him having a coughing fit? Thanks so much!🥰✨

Say no more 👀 let us hurt ourselves with more angst! And I think this story deserves an actual ending so we can have the closure we need, even if it's not what we might've wanted *oops

Believe Me pt. 2 | Levi A.

"She's a lady, and I am just a boy."

Pairing : Hanahaki!Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings : ANGST! and a bit of angsty fluff, mentions of blood, regrets, I think that's it?

Word Count : 2.3k words

Part 1 Here

It's been a week and a half since you had the surgery. You felt great, physically at least. However, mentally, you felt like something was missing. That feeling bothered you, it was as if someone tore a hole in your chest.

Well someone did, but that wasn't why you felt empty. Or was it?

"Y/N, are you paying attention?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I got lost in thought."

Erwin sighed at your response. You felt yourself stiffen up, worrying the commander had finally had enough of you. Though, you felt relief wash over you as he let out a small chuckle.

"I hope you didn't regret getting the surgery. Even if it was done under Levi's command, I hope you understand why he did so."

"Of course, sir. By the way... where has Captain Levi been? I haven't seen him since the surgery. The whole squad is still here, so he couldn't possibly be on a mission."

"Most likely in his office doing paperwork. He had to fill in a lot, especially after his previous squad was almost completely wiped out."

You broke eye contact, you've been too focused on your condition that you hadn't really grieved for your comrades, your friends. You trained with them, fought with them, ate with them. They always had your back just as much as you had their backs. You missed them, and the realization that you haven't as much as shed a tear since you recovered from the surgery made you feel guilty. Had you been with them, maybe they would still be alive.

"Anyway, I was asking you why you wouldn't accept the promotion? You've been in the scouts for a while and you've proven yourself."

"I think I'm a good soldier, sir. But, I'm not a good leader. Besides, someone has to look out for the new members of the Levi squad." You smiled.

The commander returned your smile as he looked back onto the table, eyes scanning the papers laid carelessly all around the tabletop. He grabbed all of them and stacked them neatly.

"Well then, I guess I can take that as a reason to postpone your promotion. You are dismissed. Take these to Levi's office with you." He commanded. You saluted him before walking to his desk and picking up the stack of paperwork.

Each step you took put you deeper into your thoughts. Why haven't you checked his office yet? If you really were looking for him, why didn't you look for him in the most obvious place?

Could it be because you were afraid? Afraid of how empty you'd feel when you see him and not feel the butterflies in your stomach. Or how you'd be able to look him in the eyes and keep eye contact.

You wondered if Levi had been grieving on his own. The man had lost so many people in his life, yet he kept a level mind. You admired him for that. Yet you couldn't help but think about how lonely he felt after losing those closest to him all the time.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard something falling, followed by violent coughing. Without thinking, you immediately opened the door to your captain's office and stepped in. The sight you were met with was horrifying, blood splattered on the floor and on the handkerchief Levi was holding as he hunched over the side of the table. A trail of petals lined the side of the desk, along with stalks decorated with thorns that looked all too familiar to you.

"C-Captain Levi! Are you alright? What... is all this?" You said in shock, unable to thoroughly process what you've just seen. And he responded by shutting his eyes before straightening himself up.

"Is there something you need?"

"I, uh... I have these papers from Commander Erwin and- oh my God, Levi..." You continued as your eyes scanned the bloody floor.

"Did you hit your head and forgot my title? And where is the salutation?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but stood up straight and gave him proper greetings along with your name and business. To which he responded with a nod and you walked over to hand over the paperwork.

"Captain, please go to the infirmary and have Section Commander Hange remove the infection."

He ignored you, instead, he flipped through the papers in his hand.

"These are Erwin's paperwork. Why did he give it to me?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Take these back to him." he said as his breath hitched for a second. He cleared his throat before handing the stack of papers back, but before you could take it, he started coughing again. He lifted his arm to cover his mouth with his handkerchief, though he was too late.

Blood, thorns, and beautiful petals spewed out onto your arm, hand, and the stack of paperwork. You panicked, mostly because of the papers which were most likely important. But then as it sinks in, you threw the paperwork onto the table and dragged Levi out.

He ignored you the whole time the two of you made your way to the infirmary, though he didn't resist. When you walked in, it was empty. You reckoned it was lunchtime, and the ones tasked with guarding the infirmary were probably in the dining hall with the others. You dragged Levi onto one of the beds and made him sit while you look for a throat soothing medicine.

"I'm sorry." you started. You were once again met with silence, so you decided to continue. "I should've believed you. I wish I did, and I wish I still had my feelings. Now I'm alright while you're like this."

"Captain Levi, please respond." You pled.

"There's no use. What's done is done, your feelings are gone, and as far as I know, it's never going to come back."

"Then why not get the surgery?"

He stopped talking once again, instead, he lifted his legs onto the bed and leaned onto the wall. Eyes closing as he crossed his arms, allowing him to avoid answering the question.

He too was confused as to why he was so reluctant to tell Hange. He wondered if this feeling he had was the way you felt before you had the surgery. That even though it feels helpless, you just don't want to give up the fuzzy feeling, the little butterflies, and random thoughts. He thought he'd be alright if he postponed things, just a little, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you'd love him again.

Had he mentioned how he truly felt, then the two of you might notice just how alike the two of you are when it comes to processing feelings. The thing is you're much more open about how you feel compared to Levi. And Levi, he knew when to shut up and just let it all play out without acting on it. Something he hoped you'd do.

"Captain, I know this is my fault, so please let Section Commander Hange-"

"No. That's final."

"Fine."

In a rage, you put the throat soothing medicine on the table next to the bed Levi was on before giving him a quick salute and marched out, aiming for Erwin's office. Maybe this was a good time to be promoted. Erwin had been proposing the idea of making you a section commander for a while, and if you did, then you'd have the jurisdiction to order the surgery on Levi.

"Stop." Levi called out, this time you were the one ignoring him.

"I said, stop, Y/N." He said, a little firmer.

"God, damn it. Stop right there, cadet. That's an order."

You unwillingly stopped. You were so used to being his obedient little underling, it was ridiculous. You heard him stand up, he took a step, then another. Each one made you shiver in fear. For a second, you forgot he was humanity's strongest, and your squad captain, your superior. For now, at least.

Turning around, you made sure you didn't show any kind of emotions on your face. Instead, you looked straight at the wall behind him, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighed before leaning over, losing his balance. You instinctively ran to hold him so he doesn't fall. Only then did your eyes meet once more. You didn't know it, but at that moment, Levi's heart stung. Those eyes that used to look at him with such glimmer and love now looked at him with worry and pity.

"All you had to do was believe me..." He said as his eyes glued themselves onto the floor.

"I know. I'm sorry, captain."

"Levi."

"You really need to stop being hot one second and then cold a second later." you joked, letting out a chuckle. While Levi simply cracked an amused smile.

"I mean it, call me Levi. I'm sorry, I was still... angry. It's just that... we could've had our happy ending." He stated, eyes glazed as he tried his best not to show how much this has been bothering him. Though it failed as another fit came and he coughed out what seemed like a whole flower head.

You couldn't hold yourself any longer, at that moment nothing seemed right or wrong. You felt the guilt weighing your body, you felt guilty for not feeling the butterflies you'd usually get when you made eye contact with the man. You felt guilty for not believing him while all he did was love you. So for once, maybe doing this may be acceptable.

You leaned in, pulling his face close, eyes landing on his lips. He was still trying to catch his breath after the fit, but he was quick enough to stop you.

"You don't have to do that. We both know you don't love me."

You ignored him, instead, you leaned in once more. Even if you didn't have those butterflies anymore, even if you didn't have feelings anymore, this was something you've wanted to do for a long time. And even if it's not as magical as it could've been for you, it was still just as magical to Levi. And so once your lips met, his resolve melted.

The kiss was full of longing, from both sides. Though you weren't sure if this was the right thing to do. You kept convincing yourself this was for Levi but were unable to completely disregard your own wish, one you still held onto just over a week ago. You tasted tears, not knowing if it was yours or his, but you didn't care. Neither did he. All the two of you wanted was to savor this kiss. Because you both knew this was the first and the last kiss the two of you will ever share.

You pulled away, mouthing another sorry before you sped walked out before he could throw another command. Each step added to your determination. If you can't love him again, then you can do this to save him.

Once you arrived, you didn't knock. You knew the act was somewhat impolite but your commander had probably gotten used to it by now. Once you walked in, both Hange's and Erwin's eyes immediately shot onto you. They seemed to be talking about something trivial since neither was in a formally serious pose, and both were somewhat smiling.

"Y/N? Is there a problem?"

"Sir, I accept the promotion offer. Please promote me to section commander as soon as possible."

"What? Y/N, what made you change your mind?" Hange asked, obviously taken aback by your sudden decision after postponing it for months.

"Please accept my decision, sir."

Erwin nodded, immediately pulling out a file from his drawer. One that he'd been hoping would finally be signed. You took every step convincing yourself you'd be able to handle the responsibilities. Once you reached Erwin's table, you looked at the paper and the pen next to it. Without letting yourself think any more, you reached for the pen and signed your name.

"Congratulations on your promotion, section commander Y/N. We'll break the news tomorrow on the morning assembly." Erwin said as he gave you a smile.

"Thank you, sir."

The next day, you were officially removed from Levi's squad and now held the spot of a section commander. The first order you gave was for Levi to get the surgery. And at that very moment, both Hange and Erwin understood why you finally took the promotion. Because even if you no longer loved him romantically, the love you had for the man never truly diminished. For when one loves truly and wholeheartedly, nothing could truly erase it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give us the happy ending we could've had. But at least we can still stand next to each other as comrades." you whispered to Levi's unconscious body.

"Thank you, Levi. For everything." You said as you stood up, nodding to Hange before making your way out. Your horse was waiting for you, along with the two squads assigned to accompany you to your new headquarters.

The two of you might not have been destined to be together, or stand hand in hand as lovers, but this is enough. To be in the scouts and stay alive for this long is already a blessing. Being able to stand with each other is enough. At least that's what you told yourself.

"It's enough, right. Levi?" you asked the wind as you rode with your comrades under the setting sun. You felt your heart ache as you thought about what you had done to him. And soon tears followed. You thanked whatever God existed because no one could see you cry while you're here. Tear after tear dropped as you went further and further away.

"I wish I believed you."

[burntmcnuggies]

Hi! Can i request a hawks x fem! reader where hawks kind of has bird-like tendencies? She’s pretty good friends with him, and sometimes he whistles and stuff when she’s around (like a mating call/song) and one time she was talking to another pro hero and hawks gets jealous (but it’s his bird side so he can’t control it) and his wings puff up and stretch out as a show of dominance or something. And they get really bright too! The media reports the event and he confesses how he feels 🥺 tysm!

Of course! 🥺

I’m so happy to have actually gotten a request!! This is actually my... fourth Hawks story? And I feel I’m getting better at his personality! If any of you have constructive criticism I’m all ears! Ready to improve! I tend to over study characters before I write them so I have a good understand to deliver the best for everyone! :D

I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff... so I did both! A wholesome pure one and a spicy sexy one!

I really hope you enjoy this! ❤️

Both stories are almost exactly the same except for the ending, so in the end if you want smut, go to the NSFW one! 18+ only please! :)

➪ NSFW <3

Jealous Bird (Fluff)

Warnings: strong language, suggestive themes towards breeding, and that’s it!

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulders were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and i have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always argue you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“Animal Mutant types like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there once more. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start then! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! People who don’t dream of kissing me so passionately and marrying me.” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please marry me... I love you so much. Kiss me... let’s start a family, and be the happiest couple ever~”

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak in such a way. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans cravin’ me~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything romantic with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans want for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey man, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. And he would always make these weird sounds whenever the two of you got close. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. You unwrapped your food and took a bite of the savory meal. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched the back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger and jealousy. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understanding why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. You sent him a silencing glare and he smiled nervously, unsure of what you were thinking.

“Uh... oops?”

——

“Breaking News! Pro-Hero Hawks was seen acting quite strange this morning. We have multiple eye witness accounts saying his behavior was aggressive in sorts. Many people claim after the latest villain attack, Hawks confronted Pro-Hero Edgeshot! What an intimidating display by one of the most top ranked heroes! We’re not sure on the full details, stay tuned for more on the story later.” The whole time the video played the camera was zoomed in on Hawks. His vibrant wings spread dominantly, visibly fluffed and shaken up. It was incredibly lucky they didn’t catch you both kissing —even though his wings were covering you both. You slid your phone in your pocket and sighed heavily, patiently waiting outside the presidents door, ready to see Hawks and talk to him about what had happened.

You attempted to talk to Mirko but... You couldn’t really understand what she was talking about, especially through all the panting. ‘Oh baby please, come to my place, I promise we’ll have fun okay? Forget about that birdbrain! Come to me. We can eat! Have dessert first and then a full course meal! And another, and another, a-and another~! Until I’m full and satisfied! Please!’ You sadly had to decline. Being treated to multiple full course meals and desserts was nice and all, but you really needed to talk to Hawks. A click of the door was heard, and you brought yourself off the hard painted walls to see Hawks walking out with a pout and a frown. He hated being scolded, he was a grown ass man with hormones. Of course he was going to lose it eventually.

“H-Hawks...!”

He immediately jerked his head up hearing his name, plastering on a cheeky smile before coming up to you. “What’s up chicken wing, you came to check on me huh?” Sometimes you wanted to slap the smugness out of him, but sadly, it would probably grow knowing him. You honestly nodded and rose your hand to tell him to follow you. He did as you told quietly, his hands in his pockets, unsure of what you were even going to say. His feathers could faintly sense your thundering heart, how it hammered against your rib cage every step you took towards the door. “It’s... about what happened this morning.”

“...I see.” It was unusual for him to be so speechless in a conversation. He loved to talk. You rubbed your arm sheepishly and made your way out the doors with him. You walked for a bit, until you reached the agency you worked at. Well, this was it. “Hawks I...” you began, but couldn’t bring yourself to confess to him. You’d denied your feelings for years, pushing them aside to hold onto your friendship. You didn’t think you were good enough for him. He needed someone stronger, someone better. “Ah... never mind, I forgot what I was going to say. See you to-“ You were silenced once his gloved hands found your arms softly, and his lips met yours once again to share in a passionate kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, his warm comforting touch, never wanting to leave.

“Im... sorry for the way I acted today.” He spoke slowly, expression the sincerity behind his apology. Your eyes widened watching Hawks get down on one knee and begin to kiss your knuckles one by one. “I couldn’t help myself... seein’ you... with other guys, just thinkin’ about it makes my blood boil...” He stands back up again, spreading his large wings, their vibrant color remained, accompanied by soft whistling and cooing from your winged friend. His hand grabbed your chin, running his thumb gently over your bottom lip. “I’ve been tryin’ to impress you for weeks... drove out all my competition, so in the end you’d only pick me.”

It was all starting to make sense now.

“Spring is mating season for birds like me... so everything I’ve been doin’ is to get you to choose me to be your mate. I want you to be my dove. I want you to be mine.” Everything finally connected now. Even why Mirko sounded so weird on the phone earlier when you called to ask about what was happening. Your face flushed in embarrassment at this newfound revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner... I... feel horrible for what I said earlier! Your jealous behavior... your weird noise making meant to impress me but I insulted it!” Hawks covered his mouth and started to laugh. You glared at him, trying to be serious and apologize the right way. And he was just sitting there laughing at you! “Oh man, sorry chicken wing, but I insult you, all the fuckin’ time, and its fun. Watchin’ you get all flustered and angry, I live for it. You shouldn’ feel bad at all to get a couple jabs at me.”

“Shut up you dumbass. Let me speak...” A pout spread across his face and he stared intensely at you, his beautiful golden eyes shaking you up to your core. You rubbed your arm a bit embarrassed, and averted your gaze to the ground. “Considering... everything you’ve just told me. I need to clarify and face my feelings.” His eyes widened and his mouth hung slightly agape, his wings flapping gently in anxiousness. You smiled and pulled him close by the collar of his jacket, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before pulling away quickly not get him riled up again. “It’s safe to say I only see you, Hawks. And you don’t have to worry about me picking anyone else. You’re my pretty bird. You always have been.”

He sighed in relief and smirked smugly. “I knew you were in love with me, dove. I’m just too irresistible, even for you~”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

[raspberry-arev]

After the Flood (a.k.a. bicci fic)

Hello friends! Some of you may remember that back in... er, who knows, I was writing a Bicci Proposal Fanfic. However, school and lack of motivation got in the way, and essentially, I forgot it existed. Until now. It's done, it's ready, it's here for you to read in whole! (I posted half of it before, but I can't find the thing.)

Characters: Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Lister Bird, Rowan Omondi, OC (Abby Omondi), Angel Rahimi

Themes: older Ark, marriage proposal, coming out, grand gestures, The Ark Revival Tour, and peak Bicci romance (hopefully)

TWs: mentions of recovery from addiction, anxiety, food

Word count: 9k

JIMMY

It’s often impossible to pinpoint what exactly set off an event – or perhaps multiple – that changed your life as you knew it.

That was not Jimmy’s case, however. He remembered that Barbecue Saturday very well.

This time, it was Rowan and his spouse Abby who hosted. The two couples took turns and Jimmy was oh so grateful for it; the idea of managing Lister’s chaotic culinary experiments more than twice in one summer filled him with dread.

On Saturday morning, Jimmy and Lister packed up and drove all the way to the suburbs of London where Rowan and Abby lived. The sun was bright, everything gleamed buttery yellow, and Jimmy managed to talk Abby into letting him set the table and carry in all the food instead of her, which was quite an accomplishment. She was about as stubborn as her husband.

They rarely invited more than three extra people though. Being in the public eye in your formative years made you appreciate small gatherings of trustworthy people. And one of those proved to be Angel. Or, you know, Feresteh, but her nickname really stuck with them. From that time Jimmy nearly quit the band and Lister impaled himself and almost drowned in mud… yeah, call that a wild youth.

Over ten years later, they were hardly the same people.

After they decided to quit being The Ark for their own wellbeing and safety, Rowan kept his place in the music industry as a songwriter, producer and a solo artist. He went with the name Le Monde, a play on his surname as well as French for “the world”. It suited him. He was the world, never small, never just one thing.

Lister stopped being involved in music after a few collabs. While he was figuring out what to do next, he took a few modelling jobs, acted in music videos and got a small part in a sitcom. Jimmy used that time to get a college degree, but found he just wouldn’t be able to get the usual “college experience” he yearned for, and only got his diploma after doing classes long-distance.

Jimmy and Lister also got together. After many failed attempts at courtship and pretending being friends with benefits was enough… they got together. To Jimmy, it felt like it was inevitable; they have acted like partners long before it was official, they just needed to clean up their own messes before they could be a couple. It wouldn’t have felt right back then, but it did now.

Rowan was already at the grill preparing meat and wrapping camembert in shiny aluminium foil when Angel marched in, tall, elegant, beaming. Jimmy loved to see her again. Each time, she seemed a little more confident, more expressive, more… just more. She really did find her calling in the music industry, just as much as he found his tucked away in rural England with his boyfriend.

Yet, he was to be “tucked away” no longer.

At a certain point, their group fell momentarily silent; everyone was chewing their meal and soaking in the sun. Then Angel said, in an unfamiliar, cautious tone: “You see, I was talking to a couple of people…”

Rowan exchanged a quick look with Jimmy. “Go on,” he said.

“It’s gonna be ten years since you guys disbanded, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy echoed.

“So. I was thinking. Hear me out, even if you think it’s bollocks…” Angel shot them a look, and then made a motion with her hand as if she was presenting them with something. “Have you ever thought of doing a revival concert?”

As Rowan did a theatrical “errrm”, Jimmy saw straight through his best friend’s bullshit: the two of them rehearsed this conversation. He knew Ro for most of his life, who did he think he was fooling?

His mind offered the answer quickly: Abby, perhaps. He wants to see how she would react, doesn’t he? Rowan would love to do a revival show like that, no doubt, but he valued his wife’s opinion too much to make a decision without her.

He felt movement on his left, and looked Lister in the eyes.

“Well,” said Lister, looking at him. “Wow, okay,” said Jimmy. Both were considering.

Angel swiftly picked up, “Just wanted to run this idea by you. Not because it’s me who would love to see you play once more – I mean, of course I would – but it’s expected to have an amazing turn-out.”

“Obviously, they’re The Ark,” Abby commented matter-of-factly.

“You’re right, Abby. So, guys? How are we feeling about this?”

It was bizzare. Normally, Jimmy would have expected to say he wasn’t at all interested – the boyband life was not for him anymore, tough luck – but recently, he felt a strong sense of nostalgia surge through him as the ten year mark got closer. He found himself reaching for his old guitar way more often, strumming at it, looking for something between the strings he could not reach.

Maybe he could do it just once.

What eventually came out of his mouth was… “I haven’t sung like that for a long time though.”

“You sing to me,” Lister contradicted him, his fingers intertwining with his. “All the time.”

Jimmy felt his face get hotter. “That’s hardly… Are you thousands of people?” He turned to Angel. “How many are we talking, anyway?”

She smiled a kind smile. “I don’t know, Jimmy, that depends on whether you three are up to it or not.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Personally speaking, I think I wouldn’t mind, as long as we are just doing it once, and not trying for a comeback. I wouldn’t go there.”

“Same,” Lister nodded. “I love you guys, but I’m fine the way things are.”

“Right,” said Rowan firmly. “But… just this once, I mean, why not? We could use some extra money.” With this, he gently let his palm rest on Abby’s belly that swelled under her summer dress like a balloon. (Jimmy fought the urge to aww at them.)

Abby immediately assured him they were more than fine financially, but Rowan barely listened, clearly waiting for his former bandmates to say something. Jimmy felt Lister looking at him, unwavering. So he turned to him and asked, “What do you think? Cool or not?”

“I’m waiting for you to say.”

“Why?”

“Don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“You shouldn’t… Just say what your opinion is!”

“You express your opinion,” Lister retorted, pretending to square his shoulders as a threat. Jimmy lovingly nudged him, and to stop being annoying to the remaining three people at the table, he shrugged, “It doesn’t sound so bad. One concert. I mean, we are still friends after all this time, so why not?”

“In that case, I would love to be the centre of attention again!” Lister exclaimed and gave Jimmy a boyish grin. “The crowd was deprived of my looks for too long.”

“Buddy, you were the drummer,” Rowan said. “Bold of you to assume anyone even looked at you with me and Jimmy jumping at the front.”

Jimmy snorted with laughter, but Lister was quick to defend himself. “Google all Lister Bird slash Reader fanfic and then we can talk about who got noticed, buddy.”

“Oi, you’re not even properly revived yet, stop fighting!” Angel called out, but laughter started bubbling from every direction before she even finished the sentence.

They had a proper business meeting about it in two weeks. And then another and another. When they announced the first date, the sales went through the roof. Jimmy had to get off of social media because the internet exploded with their names and faces. But he sort of found it a bit sweet, that so many people stuck around for them, like old friends that he never had the chance to talk to. One concert became three and then five, which was, honestly, more like a small tour at that point. Jimmy fought to call it After the Flood and won.

LISTER

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know. This bitch is hard to get rid of.”

Rowan tried to hide a small cough and put out his cigarette on the metal window sill next to him. “Hey,” he greeted Lister. “Didn’t expect you to come out here.”

“Yeah.” Lister found it hard to hang around smokers, and unfortunately, he met quite the number of them while they were in the process of rehearsing. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s up?”

“Can we walk, like, over there? So… nobody can hear us through the door?”

Rowan eyed him suspiciously, but he followed him to the railing on the edge of the roof. There, he turned to him, seeming to fight himself.

“I’m really looking for a less shitty way to ask this,” he admitted eventually. “But… What have you done now, Lister?”

Lister felt a sort of numbed cramp seize his stomach for a second. It took a lot not to let anger overcome him. They were well over thirty, how the hell was Rowan still treating him like a fuck up? But no. This was more important than old grudges.

“Nothing! As of yet,” he assured his bandmate.

“Okay…?”

“Right. So. Erm. Nobody is here, right? Fine. I had this idea… you know, Jimmy and I have been together for a long time and I obviously care about him a lot, I always have, you kind of know that…”

“Yes, go on,” he pushed on gently.

“Fuck it. I want to fucking propose!”

A giant weight fell off his shoulders when he spoke those words aloud. It was like coming out all over again, god.

Rowan’s eyes twinkled. “Oooh,” he almost whispered, “and you need my help with that? I’m your man, tell me the plan!”

“There is none right now.”

“Oh, okay. I can still help if you want.”

This was another part Lister dreaded discussing.

“I… okay, so, I was thinking of… doing it on stage?”

His friend’s face changed rapidly.

Lister’s dream of a grand proposal to the love of his life in brilliant stage lights and the roars of the audience faded away. “That’s a no? That’s a no. Shit, forget it then.” He felt sick.

“Lister, I’m absolutely positive you mean well,” Rowan started. “But Jimmy would-“

Speak of the devil.

The door opened and out of it peaked Jimmy’s unshaven face. “Oh! There you both are.”

Rowan froze for a second. Lister was ready to improvise. “Alright, so how about I come by yours after practice and you transfer the files to me?” He smiled, but impaled Rowan with a meaningful look.

Fortunately, he caught on. “Oh yeah, yeah, that could work.”

“What files?” Jimmy inquired as he joined them, oblivious.

“Rowan has some of our old drafts still saved. I was thinking of squeezing in a drum solo somewhere, maybe with spoken word over it?”

“Sounds cool,” Jimmy smiled at him and slightly brushed the back of his hand with Lister’s. “Anyway, Dick the Sound Guy wants us all in there immediately.”

“Stop calling him that or I’ll have a Freudian slip at some point,” Lister laughed and guided Jimmy back into the building. Him and Rowan managed to exchange a subtle nod over the shorter man’s head.

JIMMY

As they were packing up that day, Jimmy tried incredibly hard to catch Rowan alone. Just like the old times when he needed to discuss something personal. And yet again, it involved Lister. Jimmy felt young and stupid again, but not really in a good way.

Finally, he managed to stop him while he was putting away the equipment. Lister was meanwhile in the office of their temporary new manager. “Ro, I need advice!” he whispered to his best friend.

“What about?”

“It’s Lister.”

“Oh dear Jesus, I’m having flashbacks.”

“Don’t be a dick, it’s important.”

“Okay then, tell me.”

“It kind of involves you too. Just… tell me if it’s a good idea.”

“Go on!”

“I want to, uh… I want to tell people Lister and I are a couple…” He took a breath. “Which means I would be coming out as gay as well, probably. I know that’s, like, a huge pile of drama, so if you don’t want me to complicate the tour, just say it, it’s honestly kind of irresponsible when I’m thinking about it now…”

“Jimbob. Easy.” Rowan waited for a second for Jimmy to wind down, leaning on a stack of five chairs, and then asked, “Are you really sure about it? Do you want people to know?”

Jimmy felt his thoughts humming in his head. He forced himself to say exactly how he felt.

“I know it’s gonna sound super dramatic, but I don’t want to die not saying it,” he explained slowly. “It became really important to me… I don’t know when. But it did. Talking about this part of me, too. I’m just worried about what Lister might say.”

“So I take it that you didn’t discuss this?”

“No way. I don’t even know how to start!” Jimmy exploded in loud whispering. “I should have talked to him a long time ago, but I just didn’t have the balls.”

“I get that, but… just bring it up. Like, theoretically. What if. I think he’s going to support you through it.”

“How could he?”

“What are you even saying at this point?

“You think he would like people sticking their nose in our personal business? I feel like it’s so unfair to him and his privacy… And I feel terrible about still wanting to do it… even though it’s inconsiderate. It’s all a fucking mess.”

“Okay, okay.” Rowan massaged his nose. He looked like he was trying incredibly hard not to snap at Jimmy and be at least somewhat encouraging. “Look, no spoilers, but I am going to say this. Lister absolutely will notbe mad and he will want to talk about the two of you if you give him the chance. That is all.”

“Wait, what? Ro, did he tell you something?”

“I am not talking!”

“Is that how you treat your best friend in a life crisis?!”

“You’re putting me in a life crisis, don’t you dare play the pity card! I swear, the two of you are a nightmare.”

“Rowan! Come back!”

LISTER

His visit to Rowan’s place was very brief, but it was enough for him to understand Rowan’s concerns. Eventually.

Lister explained that it didn’t feel appropriate for him to just whip out a ring in a restaurant: Jimmy was his love, his dream boy, as cliché as it sounded, and he wanted to do something that would measure up to all he was feeling. Which was… well, a whole lot. Like a “get down on one knee in front of thousands of people” lot.

And yet.

“It’s all great, and I’m sure there are people in the world that would love it, but we are talking about Jimmy.”

“Come on. I know, he’s private about… well, everything, but…”

“That, yes,” Rowan pointed at him while holding a can of coke, “but don’t you think this proposal on stage would be an anxiety-inducing situation? Because to me, that sounds like a lot of pressure and nerves.”

“He hasn’t had attacks since we moved and he went on those meds.”

“That doesn’t really –“

“Matter. Yeah. Yeah, I get your point, mate, he would die of shock. And everybody watching him. Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Rowan grinned. “The two of you are just different… in some aspects. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Will I? Lister asked himself as he was driving back to the hotel that Jimmy and him were staying at for the time being. This was the only thing I came up with, like, ever.

When he swept his key card over the sensor and the door to their suite opened, he was greeted by the smell of dinner. He took a look into their little kitchen and found his boyfriend sitting at the table with his laptop. He didn’t notice him for a second, so Lister came up behind him and hugged him tightly.

Jimmy yelped.

“Where’s the food?!” Lister shook him a little, imitating Batman.

“Your hands are so cold!” Jimmy protested, but there was a trace of laughter in his voice. “On the stove, you bully!”

Lister almost flew over there, looking under the lid on the pot.

“Pasta,” Jimmy shrugged. “I needed my comfort food, so that’s that for you.” Lister smiled and thanked him, because yes, he was starving. Pasta was Jimmy’s go-to meal to cook, as it was quick to make and he was a pasta-sauce prodigy.

While his dinner was heating up in the microwave, Jimmy made small-talk about the supposed unused lyrics Rowan and him exchanged. Lister found it hard to lie to him, so he just turned to playful teasing, telling Jimmy to stop sniffing around, he’ll hear it when the time comes.

“Oh come on,” Jimmy huffed. “I’m just asking! And it’s my show, too. Spill it.”

“Sorry. Totally gonna steal your spotlight.”

“Lister, just tell me what it is.”

“A song.”

“What song?”

“A song that you have to wait for.”

“Babe, what song?!”

Lister took him by the waist and pulled him against his body. “Are you trying to ‘babe’ me into telling you right now? Is that what’s happening? Right in front of my pasta?” He went in for a kiss, and Jimmy tried to murmur something against his lips… but then he gave up. They leaned into each other and kept kissing until Lister pulled away to open the microwave. He got himself a fork and went to sit down after the long day, but Jimmy stayed there, right next to the sink. Looking a bit like he was going to hurl.

Before Lister could ask if he’s okay, Jimmy sat down on the other chair with a determined look on his face.

“There is something I need to discuss!” he blurted out.

Lister cautiously dropped the fork back into the bowl. “Okay…? And it’s something to do with me, yeah?”

“Yep. A lot to do with you.” He was visibly nervous. He clasped his hands together, as if Lister would have not noticed. “I… I was thinking about this one thing, and I need your opinion about it.”

“Cool. Go for it.”

“It’s about our relationship.”

“Are you aware you sound very sinister right now?”

He wildly shook his hands as if he wanted to dry them off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to,” he apologized in a strained voice. Then he cleared his throat, sharply lifted his eyes towards Lister’s and exclaimed, “I would like to reveal that we’re together.”

Lister felt everything about his face go lax in shock. He opened his eyes round and wide, his mouth followed, and Jimmy looked like he would faint.

“I, er. I just. I thought about it and I think it’s a decent idea and – please say something, Lister, before I get a fucking heart attack right now.”

It must have been so hard for him to speak up. Lister thought of his proposal plans and felt his mouth slowly form a smile. “I think it’s… brilliant! Yes, I would really like to do that!”

“Wait, really?”

“This is – I didn’t think you would want to, when did you change your mind?”

Jimmy shrugged, grinning in a sheepish way that made him look much younger. And cuter. “I thought I just… wanted to be open about this part of my life. Figured it’s time to say we are together. But if you, like, don’t feel like it, then…”

Lister beamed. “I feel like it. If you do, I do, trust me.” He walked around the table and lifted Jimmy into a hug. He laughed, relieved.

This was when it dawned on Lister… it was not such an easy matter. Exciting, yes, but it would gather all kinds of attention. He leaned onto the table, grabbed his dinner and him and Jimmy started talking about the situation it would put them in. If both are truly okay with it, how much would they reveal, when is the best time to do it. They kept talking through the bathroom door and while they were changing into pajamas in their bedroom.

As they were laying down and Lister gestured Jimmy to crawl into his arms, they became quieter. “You know why I also want to say it?” Jimmy mumbled, lying on the soft linen with one eye open.

“I’m all ears.”

“If I have to see one more article about which model or actress you’re screwing, I’m gonna lose the remaining marbles that I have.” Lister started chuckling as Jimmy awkwardly added, “Which is, admittedly, not many. Most have been lost in my youth.”

“Oh no,” Lister laughed and turned Jimmy’s face upwards to his. “So this just in: my boyfriend is possessive. Fancy that.”

“I’m not, it’s… I am… Oh, you hated Jowan, stop being smug.”

“I know I did, we both know. But jealous Jimmy? That’s a rare sight.”

“It’s just super uncomfortable. It’s all women, as well.”

“Heteronormativity is a bitch,” Lister nodded. He snuggled closer and let out a breath, “Don’t worry though. I am exclusively your problem.”

Jimmy kissed him, smiling. Lister felt lightheaded. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Jimmy’s. He loved this – he loved how much he felt for him after so long they have been together. It never ceased or faded away… because it was Jimmy.

Lister was pretty sure he would love him until his last day on Earth.

It was time to start looking for a ring.

JIMMY

Not much later, they had a team meeting scheduled with all the important people at their recording company that were involved with their tour. Jimmy and Lister announced their intention to come out during the tour, and with Rowan’s full support, it wasn’t too hard to win the producers over. Jimmy had anticipated the PR people would deem it overly risky to their image, but they were fairly chill. As Rowan had put it, “As if anything about The Ark was ever about pandering to conservatives.”

They agreed that their demographic is absolutely different, and before they knew it, they were being ignored while people were exchanging speculations about how it all could help them promote the tour.

“If they do it on, like, the second show…”

“…we could sell some extra tickets after… another wave…”

“…that would probably be a good time to release a single, something related to…”

Jimmy felt something in his chest sink. This is why they left. These people took something good, something from their hearts and souls, and wanted to turn it into money. Some part of him understood, that’s how business works, but mostly, he just felt really sad for them.

“Oi!” Lister exploded over the chatter. “Sorry, but we are still here, and – Could you maybe not act like this coming out is a marketing tactic?!”

The room went briefly silent.

Jimmy squeezed his hand under the table to say a silent thanks. Then he choked out, “That’s not why we’re doing it!”

Their producer looked at them over the top of her reading glasses.

“Of course it’s not, love,” she cooed. “But to say it bluntly, I think you need all the help you can get.”

After many weeks and many briefings, they had agreed on making the announcement on the third show. Right in the middle of tour. Everybody was nervous, expectant, but there was this air of hopefulness when Jimmy and Lister ended up alone together. The glimmer in his partner’s eye when their eyes met promised something… no, it was not living absolutely openly, they still wanted privacy. But it felt like they were sealing something.

This was not an easy coming out.

But they were in for it. Together.

LISTER

“Just so I know,” Rowan said as Lister was trying to take off his Doc Martens with all his might, “what did you tell Jimmy this time?”

“We’re still working on music.”

“We should really make something then, before you go. I am not gonna lie to my childhood best friend, y’know.”

Finally, the boot came off, and Lister got off the little cabinet in Rowan’s hall. Abby was already making tea, and when she saw him walk by the kitchen door, she just nodded at him. Lister smirked at her; she loved pretending to still be mad at him for taking Rowan to a strip club on his stag night. (Or was it dancing on the table at the wedding reception? Anyhow.)

Rowan sat him down in the lounge and started the conversation with: “So. The big reveal is getting closer. How are we feeling?”

“I – great, good. I’m fine, and Jimmy seems to be fine, so yeah, we’re fine.”

“But I assume that’s not what you need help with?”

“You assume right. I will need you to bear with me, though.”

“That sounds interesting,” Rowan retorted and flashed a smile at Abby who was bringing them two steaming mugs of earl gray. “And when I say interesting I mean impending doom, why thank you, Abby!”

“No problem.” She slowly leaned over, careful not to lose balance with her belly, and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be off for my swimming class then. You two behave, will you.”

As she was making her way to the hall, Lister jokingly remarked, “No goodbye kiss for me?”

She stopped in the middle of the room and exchanged a glance with Rowan. Rowan, stirring his tea with a teaspoon, said, “Please don’t kill him, I need him for the concert.”

“Come on, you guys, I was fully kidding. Goodbye, Abby,” he waved to her with a bright smile. “Enjoy your swimming stuff!”

“Thank you, will do.” She disappeared.

“Just a question!” he called after her. She came back with an eyeroll. “Is it, like, harder to swim when you are pregnant? Like, I don’t mean to insult you or anything, I’m just genuinely wondering.”

She, too, put aside her snarky façade for a second. “Actually, I go there because it’s relieving. The water makes you float, so the weight of the baby is taken off my back and legs for a little while.”

“Oh! That’s clever.”

“Thank you. The more you know, am I right?”

“You know what I was just thinking of?”

“Yeah? I really have to go.”

“When you’re swimming, you’re a human submarine for the baby.”

It seemed to take Abby a minute to realize what he was saying. Very slowly, she brought her palm to her forehead.

Rowan then didn’t make it much better by adding, “Since when does a submarine have water inside? That would defeat the purpose.”

Lister thought about it and then gasped. “So… right now, you are a reverse human submarine!”

Abby looked at them both, clearly lost for words. “I’ll just go…” She closed the lounge door behind her.

After a good ten minutes of Rowan half laughing and half chastising Lister for saying the things he says, Lister threw his hands up in the air and claimed they seem to have “traded their sense of humour for a marriage certificate” two years ago.

Rowan immediately followed: “Speaking of marriage, any updates on that? You and…?”

“Well, my friend, that is precisely what we need to talk about today.”

“Okay. The meeting is officially in session, go.”

“First: am I the only one that was really surprised by Jimmy wanting to make us public? Because I really didn’t expect that at all.”

“Yeah, I guess he’s still full of surprises, huh?”

“That he is. However, Ro, I was thinking, and I still want to do a proposal. No – let me finish, it’s not that straightforward. I spent a lot of time talking to Jimmy about what he wants and how he sees the future, and you were super right in saying that I should never put him on the spot like that. Being so exposed to the public when we were kids messed with us in a big way, all of us.”

Rowan snapped his fingers in agreement.

“The idea is… It would be a proposal before a proposal. Like… I don’t know, announcing that I have the intention of proposing to him soon. And asking him if he is okay with that, you know? If he’s okay with the idea of saying yes. That way,” Lister gesticulated with his hands, “he’s not forced right there to say yes, the eventual real proposal can be sort of expected, which would calm him down a bit, but still a surprise, because when is it going to happen? I’m not saying.”

Rowan stared at him for about three seconds. “That was… a whole thing, buddy.”

“Thoughts?”

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Wait. You want to do a proposal before the actual proposal.”

“Yes.”

“On stage. At the same time you are announcing that the two of you are together?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I thought like, more at the end, maybe.”

“Proposal before a proposal…”

“It’s clever, if you think about it.”

“To me, it just seems very extra, Lister. Which I know is your trademark, but –”

“No, but listen. I want to propose to Jimmy. He wouldn’t survive a big flashy proposal, but I still want to make it a big deal, because it is. Ergo, I announce that I want to spend the rest of my stupid little life with him and ask him if it is okay to propose to him one day, likely soon.”

Rowan’ expression changed. “That does make sense,” he said. “For the two of you, especially.”

“Okay then: dear dad, do I have your blessing?”

“Never call me that again. But yes.”

“You are the closest to being a father out of all of us.”

“That is not what it sounds like and you know it.”

JIMMY

The first show was an explosion of feeling and memories. Nauseous with anxiety, burdened with expectation and weak in the knees, Jimmy ran into his first appearance on the stage the same way he would run into the middle of the highway. The lights and screams and colours almost blew him to pieces and then glued him back together. His first words addressed to the crowd and the earth-shattering screams that came in answer woke something in him, a force of nature. The gig was rather small compared to those they ended on ten years ago, but the crowd loved them to pieces and oh, he felt so alive.

The second show was slightly bigger, yes, and their fans didn’t disappoint. Plenty of pride flags were chucked at him, and he waved them and gave them to his mates and it made him even more excited about what him and Lister were going to do the next time round. These people stayed with them for so long, this sea of faces that looked toward him… for many of them, he would be the representation they need, again.

He remembered being a young trans boy, questioning if there is a life, a future, for him. Where were all the queer adults? The trans adults? How could he imagine adult life if he had never seen someone like him live it?

There he was, now. Adult. Gay. Transgender. A lot of time, he still knew very little about what he was doing, but he had a boyfriend who knew equally little, and together, they might be just what some queer kid in the crowd yearns to see.

LISTER

It was D-Day. Christ and Mary, it was, and they were going to say it. Finally. The staff have been informed, the security has been strengthened, they did everything so that some fan wouldn’t try and knock them the fuck out…, but he was still incredibly nervous. Minutes before the show, among all the rush and flourish, he caught Jimmy and pulled him to the side, apologizing to a couple of sound guys securing some cables on the ground.

“How are you doing?” he blurted out.

“I’ll die, but maybe in a good way. You?”

“Same. Or I’ll throw up, in a bad way.”

“Wait really?”

“No, I’m sick, but not the vomiting kind.”

“Anxiety! Welcome to the club!” Jimmy shouted as he was being ushered away under the stage so he could come up on a platform.

More pushing, more ushering, and he stood next to Rowan.

Their intro – a dramatic organ solo as light flashed through the artificial fog like sunbeams – was rumbling all around them. The crowd was losing their minds. He didn’t know how, but he still heard Rowan whisper:

“Lister, promise me you won’t do the other thing today!”

“Told you I won’t, stop being patronizing!” he snapped back, but then it was their time, and they were on a stage, coming up from behind Jimmy, each on every side, acting astonished as they supposedly came down from Noah’s Ark onto new land.

Listed dared to put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as they did so.

The show was on.

Here we go.

JIMMY

During the concert, he used every opportunity to interact with the audience that he had. It felt a bit manipulative at first – he wanted them to be up for a bit of talking, eventually – but then the feeling of guilt faded away. However complicated his relationship with the fans used to be, these people were the fans. They stayed loyal to them, they kept their music in their hearts, and came to this revival gig…

It would be okay, okay, okay.

When the last accords of the last song whizzed away into the night and he was thanking the crowd that stomped and cheered and waved signs in hope of an encore… he stopped at the front of the stage. Rowan strummed a few last cords on the guitar and fell silent.

He wished he had somewhere to sit down. His legs were shaking.

But he was not afraid. Not really.

“Now, you guys, these shows are very special for us. Because every single one of you, as we’re standing here and looking at each other, you have been waiting for so long…” His voice was drowned out by cheers. “For so long, you have not forgotten us, you came to our shows, you have been amazingly supportive, and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart!” He shouted the last few words as the sea of faces roared in joy.

When they calmed down again, he continued. “And because you are the ones that stuck with us… because of that, I would like to say a few things to you.

If you know about the days of my youth…” Pause as people laughed and shouted affirmations at him. “…you would probably remember that I was presumed to be in a relationship with a person that is standing on the stage with me, right now.”

It was good that only a few people cheered. But it made him sick to the stomach, still.

“Okay, no,” Rowan came in, and people applauded, and he pointed at them with a not-so-fake scolding look, “no, no, don’t you woo at me, young lady. This is so utterly not a thing! Jimmy has never left the friendzone!”

“Same here,” Jimmy laughed and patted Rowan across the back, maybe a little too hard, overcompensating. “Did you all, like, miss that Rowan came out as straight all those years ago?”

People were laughing. Nobody really cared, they just found it funny. Rowan claimed he was leaving it to Jimmy before “the PR team has me taken out”, and retreated a few steps, leaving Jimmy to face the crowd again.

Deep breaths, he told himself.

“What I wanted to say was that there was one thing that those people back then got right.” Breathe in, breathe out. “I am gay.”

Two seconds of silence and then an absolute thunderstorm of an applause. A rainbow pride flag landed at his feet and Jimmy took it, with meek laughter, and put it around his shoulders. He heard Rowan cheer and clap too, and for what felt like years, he couldn’t get a word in. He wished the whole world could be like this.

“I – gosh, thank you all, I’m not sure whether it was a surprise,” he finally managed to say, his voice breaking a little from surprise, “but yeah. I am a trans, gay man…” The hall exploded with joyous noise. “…and it’s not all that there is to me, but I’m here. And queer. Hello.”

He thought he was going to pass out. He had a clever segway prepared, but he couldn’t remember a word of it. This was the moment. He wanted to say it, but at the same time… How could he? It was so hard, why do things have to be so hard?

“The other… the second thing,” he said, gripping the pride flag. “It is that… wow, it’s hard. It’s that I am…” He felt himself turn around, and like a lost child call: “Lister?”

Lister climbed out from behind the drum set instantly. Nobody cheered, there were only confused whispers. Jimmy looked at him, asking for help without words, and he knew, as he always did. Jimmy found a place to look, above the crowd, beyond everything, as Lister stepped in and slowly took his hand.

“The second thing is that we are together,” Lister said, his voice steady.

And the crowd lost it.

There were people wailing in happy tears. Screaming at the top of their lungs. A dissonance of chanting their names, all at a different rhythm, before Rowan ran up to them and hugged them and spurred the crowd on, and they stood there wrapped in a pride flag, and Jimmy was kind of crying and leaning on Lister, and it was another half an hour of a pure mess, before they really left the stage with their ears buzzing and eyes wide.

Jimmy and Lister tumbled into a corner somewhere, and Jimmy had happy tears streaming down his cheeks and they were kissing and holding each other and shaking.

“Oh, I’m such a mess,” Jimmy laughed as he was smearing tears and foundation on his sleeve.

“And I love you so much,” Lister blurted out in a moment of raw honesty.

“Me too,” Jimmy took one of his hands and kissed the palm. “I love you so fucking much it’s unreal sometimes.”

LISTER

This was, hands down, the most jittery Lister got before a show. Ever.

Currently, he found himself sat at an old sofa in the dressing room, hands clasped and both legs involuntarily jumping up and down. Was it annoying? Likely. But he had to let his knees jump in such a vigorous way because if he hadn’t, his teeth might start clattering.

He hated that he couldn’t just be pumped and excited. He had to feel this unsettling, buzzing mess of an emotion. Anxiety, as Jimmy informed him. This is what it’s like for an anxious person, he said… except make it all the time and often for no real reason.

Lister shook his head a little.

His reason, too, was basically nothing. He knew. As if Jimmy would actually reject him or something…

Or would he?

Maybe he could? Oh God, maybe he could…

“Hey! You’re actually scaring me, what’s up with you?!”

Lister blinked in confusion. He saw Jimmy as he was making his way over. A half scolding, half worried look decorated his face.

He lowered his voice when he added: “The last time I saw you like this was when you had withdrawal symptoms. You can tell me if that’s what it is.”

“It’s not that. I’m fine,” Lister insisted. Crap, he was panicking too hard to actually come up with anything convincing. Come on, Bird, focus… He’s onto you…

“Actually,” Rowan’s voice travelled to them from the corner, “I just think we had weird coffee.”

“What? But you’re fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Rowan continued to make up a story, “we both got one, but I didn’t like the taste, it was too strong. Lister felt bad for throwing them out so he finished both of them, didn’t you?”

“Ye-Yes,” he finally caught on. Had to admit, Ro was impressive at this. Lister started to believe what their friend used to say: that he can lie very well, he just chooses not to. “I didn’t want to waste it. The coffee.”

“Lister,” Jimmy grunted in disbelief, hands on his hips. “That was a brilliant idea, you walnut! Look at yourself, you’re gonna be sick now!”

“I’m not.”

“You look it.”

“I’m just…” He rubbed his clammy hands together. “I’m just anxious I guess.”

“Well, no shit. Why do you think I avoid caffeine?” Jimmy sighed and dropped into a squat in front of Lister. He took Lister’s hands in his. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not gonna have a heart attack, are you?”

“No, babe. I’m alright.” The last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend to be anxious too.

He looked down at Jimmy. The realization dawned on him, as he noticed that his partner dropped onto one of his knees to be more comfortable; very soon, the roles will be reversed. It will be Lister down on one knee, only Jimmy would be standing up in that case…

Okay.

Wow.

This is what true internal screaming felt like.

“You need water, as in now,” Jimmy decided and jumped up. “I’ll need you to drink at least three glasses before we start, that should help.”

He rushed out of the room to get hands on some water. Rowan and Lister looked at each other, the pretence gone.

“Alright?” Rowan nodded.

“I’m fucking choking, dude,” Lister replied.

It almost looked as if his friend was going to give him advice, or maybe say something generic and calming… but instead, Rowan let out a small laugh. Lister’s lips started twisting without him giving the command.

And then the two collapsed laughing. The pressure of this being the very last show and the knowledge of what Lister was about to do at the end of it were just the right recipe for hysterics.

Jimmy didn’t bother to ask twice what the joke was, as long as they promised they weren’t laughing at him.

-----------------------------------

As the concert was coming to an end and the crowd was cheering and chanting for an encore, Rowan seized the opportunity and called: “Alright, friends, we would like to indulge you in a little experiment! Can you join me at the front, Lister?”

Lister got out from behind the drum set and jogged to meet the rest of the group. Jimmy smiled, but his eyes studied both of them suspiciously. “What is this?”

Lister lazily raised his arms with the palms of his hands towards the crowd. “I have to admit, we kind of didn’t tell Jimmy what this is about. Sorry, my guy.” People laughed. Rowan signalled someone backstage, as Lister added: “But just so you don’t feel left out, you can have this triangle.” A nervous assistant handed Jimmy the instrument and ran off again.

Everybody was jeering and whistling, but there was an air of anticipation in the air.

“Oh wow, that’s generous of you,” Jimmy grimaced.

“I know, right? Anyhow.” Lister took a step forward, trying to calm himself. He could do this. He had acting jobs, he could absolutely pull this off.

He was Lister freaking Bird! He was the fan favourite!

“Dear audience, allow me to tell you a tale,” he addressed the crowd in his best narrator voice. A couple of screams rose from the crowd, but everyone else was listening intently. Behind him, Rowan started strumming a little melody on his guitar – one they created especially as a backdrop to Lister’s talk.

“I know this is a little unusual,” Lister admitted to the sea of people, “I know that you’re used to stories coming to you via this man’s voice,” he pointed at Jimmy, “and this man’s lyrics.” Rowan. “I know that I am just a simple drummer in this arrangement. But today, I will do the voice and the words. Because, well… Talking all the time is the one thing I am actually good at.”

That made the crowd laugh. Good. Great.

“But now, on with the story!” he exclaimed and made a motion with his hands as if he was showing them a canvas.

“Picture this. We are all fifteen, stuffed into a tiny studio in London,” he smiled, as if nostalgic. His voice flowed out of him in a steady melody, like the hum of a river. “We all had that awkward long hair phase – yes, I see some true veterans in the audience today. Good,” he smiled at a couple of girls in the front who seemed to know exactly which haircuts he meant. He raised his hands again. “I am sitting outside the recording room, behind the glass. On the other side, there’s Jimmy. I can see him clearly, I hope you can too,” he said, keeping his dreamy smile. “The giant black hoodie. The fringe almost hiding his eyes. Jimmy waits for the cue, bouncing up and down,” he chuckled as he swayed up and down on his toes, “and then starts singing the interlude in our first album. It’s only about two lines that we need to record, but I remember wishing it lasted longer. Obviously. Because his voice is amazing.”

The audience started yelling and swooning at once. Lister was honestly more okay looking at them than if he had to look at Jimmy and see what his reaction is.

Now, here comes the real cliché.

“But then,” he paused with real embarrassment in his voice, “then he looked up from under his hair… at me, with those big brown eyes… and asked me, if he was okay.”

Breathe in, and:

“My friends, that was the moment I have fallen for Jimmy Kaga-Ricci.”

A roar of screams started rising from the audience, when Rowan strummed dramatically on the guitar, as if something tragic had happened. Lister shot a look at Jimmy and found him laughing. Surprised, but amused.

Thank fuck. I’ve never told him that before.

On the outside, he theatrically turned to Rowan and scolded him: “I was just getting sentimental here?”

Rowan shrugged and strummed a more positive jingle. Everyone laughed and clapped. Lister was starting to enjoy this, actually. He sighed and walked forward onto a prolonged platform where Jimmy was usually stood on.

“Well, maybe my trusty assistant was right with the sound effects,” he admitted jovially. “Because my crush absolutely did not like me back for years. Hey, but that’s not to throw shade at the guy,” he added quickly to prevent any pitiful reaction that would make Jimmy feel bad. “Because you have to consider that I was and still am a bloody mess of a person.” That amused the listeners. Lister turned round, as he exclaimed. “I am the creator of problems, the maker of terrible decisions. We can all agree that Jimmy is a lovely lad…” He had to pause for the overwhelming reaction in support of that statement. “Yes, he is, but inflicting my teenage self upon him, that would just not be right.”

Jimmy suddenly clanked the metal stick against the triangle in an absolute cacophony to draw attention to himself. “Excuse me,” he called to Lister, “could you stop insulting yourself? I would enjoy that.”

A girl somewhere below them screamed as if she was getting murdered. They exchanged a quick glance, as if to say a little yikes, but then Lister laughed it off.

“Sorry, sorry,” he continued. “Through it all, Jimmy was always here for me. He was one of my first real friends. He was understanding when I needed it most, and ready to kick my ass when I needed it most.” He smiled at his boyfriend and hoped his voice is not shaking. “Look at you, Jimmy! I’m being embarrassing in front of hundreds of people and you still haven’t walked off stage.”

Jimmy laughed and lightly hit the triangle. He was ever the professional, but his eyes glimmered in curiosity. Expectation.

Lister kept looking at him. Rowan was strumming a slightly different melody now, and if Lister did say so himself, the atmosphere was fucking perfect.

“What I want to say is…, I feel that we were together before we got together. We were always partners. A great team. Maybe you wouldn’t think the same,” he admitted to Jimmy, “but a girl can dream. Oh! A rhyme!” He exclaimed to a symphony of awwws and ooohs. People were laughing again, clapping here and there. “That will be the only time!” Lister made a face of feigned shock. “Or not? Wow, I’m unpredictable!”

“You’re hot,” Jimmy rhymed with unexpected confidence.

The crowd was screaming their heads off at this interaction. Even Lister was a little flustered. He came back to his bandmates and gestured toward Jimmy, who was still smirking a little. “And he can improv, what’s not to like, honestly!”

Now, there came the challenge. Lister took a deep breath and prayed to all deities that were listening for this to come off as more sweet than cringy.

His voice fell into a different rhythm. One he kept studying every possible minute from any good slam poetry or original poem reading he could find online.

“But now, if our audience permits,” he put one hand on his chest, turning directly to Jimmy, “I would like to address you. Because, dear Jimmy, although I love each face in the crowd, my friends, my family, those that are both… I can state loud and proud that the biggest part of my heart goes to you.” He grinned sheepishly at Jimmy’s stunned expression, when he added: “If not all of it.”

“I can only guess what goes on in that mind, whether you think this is suspicious or kind… I can’t know these things. But there is one thing I do know. That no matter how much we grow, what we lose and what we gain, through all the smiles and all the pain, I will love you. It’s as big and as small as this. And today was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. So, nobody panic, stay in your seats. It’s not what it looks like.”

He got down on one knee in front of his boyfriend.

Jimmy gasped in sync with the audience: “Lister!” He backed away.

“Oh no, mister, don’t panic,” Lister retorted. That managed to amuse Jimmy a little – that he would know this would be the reaction. The audience was still going absolutely wild. Another pride flag just about missed Lister’s left ear.

“As I said, it’s not what it looks like. And I’m sick of rhyming by now, so…” He reached for Jimmy’s hand. Pulled it down to his by the triangle and encouragingly pressed a thumb into his palm. “I wanted to tell you – in a way that means something – that I don’t see myself living my life with anyone but you. So I have a question. Can you imagine me proposing in the near future?”

Jimmy looked like he suddenly couldn’t speak any human language. The only thing that came from his open lips was: “Huh?”

He was trying not to panic. To explain it well. Better than he had to Rowan.

“I would like to start talking about marriage. With you. I’m asking your permission to… go pick out a ring, perhaps. And propose to you. One day.”

“You want to…” He was trying so hard to make sense of this situation. Lister could almost hear the wheels in his brain clanking and whirring. After a second, Jimmy blurted out about the last thing Lister expected. “You really want to marry me?”

He had to laugh. That sounded so bizarre! You have the wrong number, I don’t think you want to marry me, of all people. As if.

Covering Jimmy’s hand with both of his own, he answered: “Who else, Jimmy?”

As there was no instant reply, Lister felt the audience grow impatient.

This was the time to smooth things out. Make it amusing.

“Okay, I don’t want to stress you out. You can just think about it,” he ensured his partner. But I just wanted to let you know my, er, intentions.” Wow, great choice of words, Bird. But was there any better? He decided to make fun of himself a little when he sarcastically added: “Because this is the regency era, apparently.”

People were losing it. However, Lister was only looking at Jimmy now… and realized that the eyes of his boyfriend were welling up with tears as he looked down. Were they happy or sad tears? Shit.

“Oh…” Lister managed to say, when Jimmy dropped the triangle on the floor with a thud and shakily took Lister’s face into his soft palms.

His voice was trembling with emotion, as he answered:

“Allister Bird, I would love to marry you. I don’t think you even need to propose again.”

Before Lister could even register what he meant, Jimmy leaned down and gently pressed a kiss at his forehead. This was probably as close to kissing in public as Jimmy would ever allow.

Lister finally realized. He realized.

At the same time, Jimmy dropped down and Lister shot up. They embraced each other tightly, a mess of crumpled clothes and limbs and teary laughing, and Lister almost lifted Jimmy off the ground as he was happy-crying into the shorter man’s shoulder.

They heard Rowan screaming at the top of his lungs: “HE SAID YES, PEOPLE!” His voice was drowned out by the massive storm of excited screams that wouldn’t seize for good twenty minutes after.

But Lister and Jimmy didn’t really pay attention.

Paradoxically, although everyone could see them – and everyone would see them, as the news probably already travelled through the internet at the speed of light – it felt like this moment was theirs alone.

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part II. (Harry Styles)

thank you so much for all the love you have showed to the first part of valerie! im so happy you are just as excited about the story as i am so i hope i won’t let you down.

if you are enjoying the story please make sure to give it a like and reblog so it can reach even more people and of course as always im more than happy to read your thoughts and comments on the part!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Working on a major report you have to finish by the end of the week, you are completely focused on your computer’s screen when your phone buzzes on the desk next to the keyboard. You grab it and answer the call without even checking the screen.

“Y/N,” you say into the phone.

“What’s your size?”

Harry’s voice pushes you out of focus as you grimace unintentionally.

“Since when do you have my number? And what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Since I asked for it from your sister,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “And I’m asking you what size shirts you wear.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m trying to dress up as you for Halloween.” Your eyes widen at his comment, but soon enough he continues. “Because I found cute matching shirts for godparents and a goddaughter and I wanna buy it, but I don’t know your size.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding the situation. “What kind of shirts?”

“It’s Fairy Godparents themed, thought it would be funny to wear it at maybe Christmas or something. But only if you are up for it.”

“Yeah, sounds fine,” you nod and give him a little guide to what sizes you usually wear, letting him decide which information he needs for the shirt he wants to buy.

“Have you thought about what you are buying for Val for Christmas?” he asks once you put the topic of your size aside.

“Harry, it’s the middle of October. I don’t even think about Christmas presents until the 15th of December,” you let out a tired sigh.

No matter how bad you want to start shopping in time every year, you have failed every time so far, no exception.

“This proves that I’m the better godparent,” he huffs on the other end of the line.

“It’s not a competition, Harry,” you roll your eyes.

“But if it was, I would be winning. Anyway, I might go a little overboard with the present, so if I end up ordering something big, are you interested in teaming up? I don’t like to give the biggest present on my own, makes it feel like I’m bragging.”

“But you kind of are bragging.”

“That’s besides the point. So, do you want to share or not?”

“I guess we could,” you shrug your shoulders leaning back in your seat. Your legs feel numb as you finally straighten them under the desk, you haven’t even realized how long you’ve been sitting there, eyes glued to the screen.

“Perfect. Is that all?” you ask, not because you are impatient to leave the conversation, it’s been kind of pleasant, you just have a lot to do.

“So you’re really going on that blind date on Friday?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden change in the topic and how boldly he just asked you about your private life. This was the last thing you expected from him.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?”

“Was just asking,” he says and you can see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s an odd thing.”

“For you. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you though?”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he simply answers. “At least there will be something to make a joke out of next time we meet,” he snorts and you roll your eyes at his comment. Now that sounded more like Harry.

“Unless you won’t have any information about it.”

“You seem to forget Steven gossips like a little girl and I can also have my ways with Rosa too. I’ll have the details before you even get home after the date.”

“You are so full of yourself, Styles,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yeah, and it seems like you were also full of me one time.”

“Go to Hell,” you spat, mocking his British accent that just makes him laugh. “If you are done making a joke out of me I’d like to get back to work.”

“Whatever, Love. We both know you just want to get away from this conversation so I don’t roast you even more.”

“Bye, Harry!” you sing before ending the line without even waiting for an answer. Harry Styles once again proved how talented he is in getting on your nerves.

 ***

 Marcus turns out to be a great company and you are finally sending your kudos to your sister for setting you up with a hot guy who is also smart enough to keep up the conversation and not bore you out of your pants.

He took you to a fancy restaurant that’s in the building of a hotel, a place you normally never go to, because it’s pretty much out of your budget, but Marcus was persistent on going there and paying for dinner. After the starter awkwardness you soon cool down and maybe that wine he ordered has helped you relax too. Marcus tells you about himself and then you do the same, just covering the usual fields of your life.

“I have to admit, when Rosa said she wants to set me up with her little sister I was hesitant at first,” he chuckles softly when your dishes finally arrive.

“You’re not alone with that.”

“Does she set you up often?”

You shake your head. “No, there was just one other time, but the guy was horrible, I have no idea why Rosa thought we would be a match.”

“I hope I’ve been better than him,” Marcus chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and at first you just ignore it, but when it goes off two more times you sigh and reach for your purse.

“Sorry, I forgot to mute it completely,” you excuse yourself as you grab your phone and your plan was just to mute it, but then you see that you got three texts from Harry and your curiosity doesn’t let you slide over it so you quickly check them.

“Well done with your outfit.”

“Gives a great view of your legs.”

“Is it also this tight on your ass?”

You run over the messages two more times, staring at your phone in complete confusion. What is he talking about? How does he know what you are wearing?

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks and you snap your eyes back at him.

“I, uhh—Yes, everything is fine, it’s just that…”

As your gaze runs over the place your anger immediately boils inside you when you spot that familiar grin at the bar. Harry is sitting right there with a scotch in his hand that he raises when you spot him. There’s another guy with him who you don’t know, but it seems like he is more focused on you than his friend.

“For fuck’s sake…” you breathe out clenching your jaw. “Excuse me for a second,” you tell Marcus who just curiously eyes you as you slide out of your seat and head over to the bar. As you march over to the grinning Harry you are literally fuming, ready to kill him right then and there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap at him trying to keep your voice down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene for sure.

“Having a drink, what does it seem like?” he asks innocently, but his face tells you otherwise.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Why do you think I went into such depths as finding out where your blind date would be? Can’t I be here by accident?”

“Nothing about you is an accident except the fact that I ever found you charming enough to sleep with you,” you growl back and earn a laugh from his friend. Harry wasn’t expecting such a harsh response for sure, you can tell it surprised him, but he doesn’t let it push him out of his cocky act.

“Was it Rosa and Steven?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest.

“What if both?” he asks smugly and God! You just want to smack him across the face.

“Why are you here, Harry?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe I just want those details first handed. It’s funnier to witness it all.”

“You know what? I don’t think that’s the truth. The reason why you are here is because you are afraid someone might treat me right and that I might have an experience that would just make you appear like an even bigger asshole than what you already are.”

Harry chuckles looking away from you, but you can tell you just wounded his confidence big time, so you decide to take it further.

“I made a mistake with hooking up with you, but I’m smarter now and I don’t start with little boys like you. I know my worth and what I deserve so I’d really appreciate it if you could move on and let me be. I know it’s hard to forget about me, but you’ll have to try.”

You mentally highfive yourself, because this time you actually made him shut his mouth, he has no retort as he opens his mouth but then closes it back. Flashing him one last bitter smile you turn around and walk back to your date and make sure Harry has a nice view of your ass. He can have one nice thing after getting so burned.

 Your little scene with Harry doesn’t ruin your date, especially because not long after you made his jaw drop to the floor he decided it’s best if he just leaves quietly. By the time you finished eating he was nowhere to be seen.

However you keep thinking about why he even chose to come there. It was way over that healthy line of picking on someone and being an annoying stalker. It’s one thing wanting to know the awkward details about your date, but showing up was definitely just too much.

Part of you was expecting him to call you the next day, maybe apologize, but more like to make a joke out of the whole thing but you don’t hear a word from him and it makes it easier for you to forget about it pretty fast.

A week later you are having dinner over at Rosa’s, just the three of you plus baby Valerie who you keep in your arms the whole night, not able to get enough of her cuteness.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” Rosa sighs with a proud smile and Steven just rolls his eyes at his wife.

“It was alright, yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle. You just told them about your date with Marcus and you can tell Rosa feels like she just hit the jackpot. After that disastrous try you had last time Marcus was surely a change for the better.

Valerie looks up at you with her huge eyes as you flash a grimace at her, earning a short giggle before her attention diverts somewhere else. She is grabbing onto your finger, not letting go of it as if she is trying to hold herself in place by her grip.

“Funny thing, Harry showed up at the restaurant too.”

Rosa almost chokes on her water and Steven starts to cough very suspiciously. Glancing up at them you can tell they are both to blame Harry had any information about where Marcus was taking you.

“Really? That’s… odd,” Rosa clears her throat.

“Is it though? You don’t have to pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sorry, but he just makes you talk so easily, he always gets what he wants,” Rosa sighs, clearly feeling guilty about it. “But I didn’t think he would actually show up. I thought he was just curious.”

“Did he cause a lot of trouble?” Steven asks, worried his friend gave you a hard time. He is not wrong, but it’s not your intention to throw dirt on Harry.

“It was just awkward. I don’t see why he came there,” you admit, shaking your head as you adjust baby Valerie in your arms so she is sitting now on your lap, looking around the table curiously.

You catch a look Rosa and Steve shares and you immediately know something is up.

“What? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, we definitely don’t,” Rosa shakes her head, fingers running up and down the glass in her hands. “I just… there could be one reason I think he went there for.”

“What is that?”

“You don’t want me to say it out loud, it’s silly, let’s just forget about it,” she tries to end the discussion, but there’s no way you let it slip.

“Rosa!”

“I was just thinking, that… considering the past you two have, he might have been… jealous?”

“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you scoff as you turn to Valerie. “Did your momma lose her mind, Princess?”

Valerie just looks at you curiously before smacking her little hands on the edge of the table, completely ignoring the conversation.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like this idea, but this is what I thought about.”

“Then stop thinking about it. There’s absolutely no way this is what it was about. Besides, our past is irrelevant. He was literally the biggest jerk to me when he had a chance with me. Why would have he blown that just to be up in my business now all jealous?”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t have any plot holes, but it could be a reason,” Rosa adds while Steven just hums next to her, not really taking part in the conversation.

Soon enough Steven takes Valerie up to put her to sleep while you and Rosa stay downstairs. You have moved on from Harry, but your mind keeps wandering back to him so you find yourself bringing him up again.

“What do you think about Harry? Aside from everything I’ve told you.”

You’ve always been curious how other people see him, since you had a very strong opinion on the guy that was tainted by everything that happened between the two of you.

Rosa takes her time thinking of her answer and you wait for her patiently. Leaning onto the table she rests her arms on it turning to face you.

“From what I’ve seen from him, he is a very loyal, caring and loving person. He and Steven have been friends for so long and Steven always told me how he could count on him no matter what and he has been proving the same to me. Have I told you he was the reason I got to wear the dress I dreamed of on my wedding?”

“What?” you ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Basically, I had that dress and a cheaper one held in the store until the day before the wedding. I knew we couldn’t afford the expensive one, but I guess I was hoping until the last minute for a miracle to happen and it seems like Harry was that. Steven asked him to pick the cheaper dress up because he was caught up with work that day. He told him specifically to bring the cheaper one and leave the other there. But when he arrived with the dress in the morning when I was getting ready, he had the expensive one. He said the lady asked which one he needed and when he said the cheaper one, the lady seemed sad and told him how much I loved the other one but I even told her I couldn’t afford it. Harry didn’t hesitate to pay for the difference the dress had over the cheaper one. I started crying the moment I saw that he had the one I loved and I was also panicking that I won’t be able to pay back to him.”

You listen to her in awe. It surely is a side of Harry you haven’t had the luck to see in the act, though you felt like you had a glimpse of it before the night of the wedding took a heated and then a quite sad turn later on. The Harry you got to know in the very beginning was the same Rosa was just talking about.

“Harry told me he won’t take my money, no matter how hard I tried to make a deal with him, he made his mind up and didn’t let me change it. I knew then that everything Steven told me about him is true. And I know he can be a cocky fucker sometimes,” she chuckles making you smile as well, “but he has a heart of gold for sure. And this is why I agreed when Steven told me he wants him to be the godfather. I want Val to learn from him, to look up to him, because I really think he can have an amazing impact on her.

“Listen,” she sighs leaning back in her seat and you watch her curiously. “I know that the two of you hate each other with passion, but… you can’t do it forever.”

You let out a long sigh looking down at your lap. It’s one of those sisterly talks when she’ll share her wisdom with you and you’ll just know she’s right. Rosa is always right. Well, mostly.

“I wasn’t there, I don’t know how he acted or what he told you exactly, but he is family now and one of you will have to take the first step. You’re wasting energy on the constant fighting, but I really believe you could work together as a team. I know it’s not just on you, I’ll try to have a talk with him as well. No matter what I think about why he showed up at your date, it was still an ass move. I’m just asking you to… be patient with him and maybe only say out loud half the insults you address to him in your head. That would be a nice start,” she chuckles and reaching over her hand squeezes yours as you nod quietly.

It almost hurts you how right she is. It doesn’t matter how pissed you are at Harry for everything he did and said in the past, you can’t keep on playing his ridiculous game forever. It consumes too much energy and time when you could just be neutral and coexist with each other happily in Valerie’s life. She doesn’t deserve to grow up seeing her godparents hate each other with a passion, that’s just not right. This time you gotta suck it up and move on from what happened, but everyone knows it can only happen if he cooperates as well. You can only hope he’ll take Rosa’s advice and show a nicer side of his face to you.

***

The room was exactly like battlefield, makeup and hair products laid on every possible surface as all the bridesmaids were getting ready, two hairstylists working on the girls while a third one was perfecting Rosa’s loose curls. Grabbing your dress you looked around for a possible corner where you could change since you were finished with hair and makeup, but you saw no free spot, so you had to be creative.

“I’ll go get changed in one of the other rooms,” you told Rosa before you walked out, down the hallway looking for an open and empty room you could use as a changing room for just two minutes.

Luckily you found one just two doors down the room Rosa and the girls were getting ready and taking a look around you made sure no one saw you sneak in there. It seemed once it was used as a smaller conference room, but now it was filled with boxes and extra chairs, looking more like a storage room. It was just fine for a quick change.

You quickly got rid of your plain shirt and jeans along with your bra since the dress had one sewed into it. You stood there, already in your dress as you were trying to get the zipper up, but it seemed like it got stuck.

“Great,” you grumbled, still jumping around hoping to find an angle where it slides right up, but it was stubbornly staying in the same spot. You were just about to gather your stuff and go back to the bride’s room and have someone zip you up when the door flew open and a tall, curly haired guy appeared with a suit on a hanger on his arm and a pair of shiny shoes in his other hand.

You jumped at the stranger’s arrival and he seemed just as surprised to see someone here as you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

His British accent was thick through his words and it immediately made you think that he must be Harry, Steven’s best friend. You’ve heard about him before but never actually got the chance to meet him. Now standing in front of him with your back almost fully exposed you can’t help but feel a little shy. He surely has an intimidatingly handsome face and physique that shows even though his loose hoodie.

“I just snuck in here to get changed, I was just about to leave,” you explained yourself, holding your previous clothes to your chest along with the front of the dress so it didn’t fall.

“Your dress is… unzipped,” he pointed it out with a soft chuckle and you looked over your shoulder as if you had to check it for yourself, but you knew it well it was in fact unzipped.

“Oh, yeah. The zipper got stuck, I’ll just… have one of the girls help me.”

“Come here, let me help you,” he offered and you hesitantly, but turned around to show him your back.

His hold fingers made you jump a little when he reached for the zipper.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and you just shook your head letting him know it was alright.

It took him a few tries to get the zipper going, but it finally gave in and slid all the way up. Once it reached the top Harry ran his fingers over it gently as if he sealed it, the touch of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning around. “I’m… Y/N by the way,” you told him, holding out a hand that he took and shook with a charming smile on his soft looking, pink lips.

“Harry. You’re Rosa’s sister, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Steven’s best friend.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look a lot like Rosa, if I might say.”

“We get it a lot. It’s the eyes, I think,” you told him. You and Rosa more or less have the same eyes and maybe share a similar jawline too that makes it pretty obvious that you two are sisters.

“Two sets of pretty eyes,” he smiled and your eyebrows rose at the compliment, feeling the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks.

“I… better get going, so you can change too,” you told him turning away and rushing to the door before he could realize how nervous he just made you.

“See you around, Pretty Eyes!” he called out after you.

 He called you Pretty Eyes quite often that evening. Whenever you met at the bar, when he sat next to you through dinner, when the two of you talked outside, a little farther away from the people having a smoke. But the last time he called you that was when the two of you were heading to his room, he was all over you, kissing you anywhere he could, hands gripping your waist greedily as you were trying to open the door with the card he handed you in the elevator. That was the last time he called you that. You haven’t heard this nickname from him since then.

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A Different Kind Of Love…

Wonwoo: Chapter 3 (Save Your Tears)

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, cheating (again, sort of), FOOD mentions, Mood Swings. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Here it is friends! A chapter with almost complete fluff. Who would’ve thunk huh? Anyways I hope you guys like the chapter. I had quite a bit of fun writing it for some reason…

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

Mostly domestic ☁️ & barely any 🥀

A Different Kind Of Love… Master List

Chapter 3: Save Your Tears

It had been exactly three months since you had been marked by Wonwoo and finally completely integrated yourself into your new pack. You hadn’t seen or heard from Song since that night, but you still felt VERY uneasy about the whole situation. People didn’t just get together the way you and your mate did and get a sweet happy little ending.

Wonwoo and you were doing great personally though. You now slept in the same room, ‘slept’ together, and just all around loved each other. You were starting to have a hard time remembering what life was like before you had gotten attacked by that angry mob now that you were with him. He made time stop and fast forward all at once. Everything seemed to go on forever and yet so quickly when you were with him. And you loved every single second of it. Even if you had a hard time showing him that sometimes.

You were downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast for all the boys, someone had to. They literally could not seem to take care of themselves even if they were grown ass men. So you kind of took on the part of den mother to them, you were the only responsible girl they had around after all. None of the Alphas had mates yet, in fact, no one older than Jihoon had found theirs yet. It was only the younger ones. And while their mates were great, they just very much acted like their wolf counter parts, which meant fun all day everyday without a second thought. So that left you being one of the few, other than Seungcheol and Joshua, who knew when enough shenanigans was enough. You didn’t mind, you liked having a big family again.

Many of the boys reminded you of your brothers. Especially Mingyu, who ate and played just as much and as rough as they did. It caused the both of you to become very close, even to the point where he felt like one of your biological brothers, he reminded you a lot of Mako. And of course, Wonwoo was absolutely delighted that the member he considered his best friend and his mate got along so much. He trusted Mingyu around you more than anyone else, so much so that he refused to even let you leave the house without either Gyu or himself by your side.

You had been having your nightmares again which was relatively normal for you. However, Wonwoo had started having them himself, which as a seer was very much not normal or good in meaning in anyway. He wouldn’t tell you what they were about, he always said you didn’t need to worry or be bothered with them as there was nothing to mention. But the way he clung to you, and the way he forced Mingyu to stay with you when he couldn’t, started having you think that maybe things weren’t as alright as they seemed…

You still just brushed it off, trying your best to just enjoy your little honeymoon bliss with your mate and continued to flip pancakes. Everything would work out. That’s what your voices said, so that’s what you believed. Soon enough, your mate had woken up to an empty bed and marched his way downstairs with a pout adorned on his face.

“(Y/N), why are you downstairs stirring batter instead of upstairs snoring in my arms?” He let out in an annoyed huff as he came to stand beside you, watching your actions with playfully narrowed eyes.

“Because Wonu, 1.) everyone will need breakfast soon and I hate that Seungcheol’s always left to be the one to do it and 2.) you take forever and I hate waiting for you to wake up. And HEY I do NOT snore!” You ranted, smacking his toned chest with your free hand in the process, the other firmly gripped onto your whisk as you made more mix for more pancakes.

You had gotten comfortable with him to the point of joking. Which not only made you proud, but made Wonwoo’s heart soar. He was glad he could coax you out of your shell a bit.

“Yeah yeah sure. And Soonyoung isn’t a little sexual deviant.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your rat’s nest covered head.

“Hey! I heard that!” Soonyoung shouted from his room in the higher portion of the house.

“Yeah I know.” Wonwoo smiled, dipping his finger in the batter you had just added some strawberry syrup to to add more flavor and plopping it directly into his mouth.

“Whatever that weird stuff is is good. But don’t think I’m still not upset that my mate left the bed without me this morning.” He assessed, sitting himself down on the counter next to you while you started pouring batter onto your skillet.

“Well get over it my love. It’s not the first time it’s happened and we both know with the way you sleep, it’s not gonna be the last. And my pancakes are not weird! They are delicious.” You declared, flipping a newly heated pancake over so it’s other side would begin to cook.

That’s something he had come to realize about you: you were always very prideful of being able to do household things well. And certain things like your hair for that matter. You always had high personal standards, though you only seemed to hold yourself to them as you didn’t care if anyone else lived up to them, just you. He chalked it up to your tribe’s old family centered traditions. He thought it was cute, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease you a bit about it.

Wonwoo smirked and bit his lip at the gratification you showed in your cooking, “They are. They’re still weird as shit though. Who puts the syrup INTO the batter?”

“I do. It makes them taste better” You insisted before you put the finished pancake with the rest of the cooked stack you had managed to create before your mate came to bother you.

“You know maybe you just don’t know how to cook.” You pointed at him with your spatula in a teasing manner.

“Maybe not” He shrugged, ducking his form down a bit to get closer to you, “But I DO know that when you’re done cooking them, you’re just gonna eat them plain like a freak.”

Just as he finished his sentence, half a dozen wolves made their way into the kitchen. You hadn’t even realized anyone other than Soonyoung was really even up yet do to you focusing all your senses and attention on your mate. That had taken you a lot of practice as, in the wilderness, you had to pay attention to everything and everyone around you.

“Mmm smells good (Y/N), what’s cooking?” Seungkwan questioned as he fought Soonyoung for a seat that was positioned closer to the food.

“Pancakes. I made loads of them” You stated, looking towards the two bickering werewolves before you and turned the stovetop off.

“And it is NOT freaky to eat them without syrup. Lots of people do it. Plus, the extra syrup’s so sugary it’s been making me feel sick lately so I would rather just eat it without to avoid it.” You spoke to Wonwoo, who had finally brought himself down from the counter and sat himself down on a chair to grab food with the other boys.

He just laughed in response to your stubbornness and pulled you to sit on his lap with a kiss to your cheek, “Whatever you say baby. I still think it’s weird to eat a plain pancake.”

It had taken you quite a while to warm up to this kind of PDA. When you first came to them, something like that would have you wiggle your way to sit alone and have to hide your burning cheeks. You’d really come a long way. Well, at least with Wonu

“Oh yeah no that’s suuuuper weird (Y/N). You may be a sociopath.” Jeonghan chuckled as he plopped another large bite of a pancake into his mouth, smiling.

“Yeah that’s weird as shit. Who the hell eats a plain pancake?” Soonyoung snickered, shoveling a whole syrup filled circle into his mouth.

“Look, what do any of you know? Most of you had never even eaten a pancake before I came around because Koreans don’t typically eat them for breakfast. So shut up!” You spit out, your feelings starting to get hurt at the constant teasing of the others.

“Who’s the weirdo eating plain pancakes?” Joshua, the American, asked from the stairs as he slowly made his was down towards the rest of the pack to eat.

“Well the Westerner thinks it’s weird so…” Chan said with a shrug and a shit eating grin.

The boys all busted out laughing, some so hard they had to hold their sides. Wonwoo started to choke a laugh back into your shoulder as you sat there and folded your arms over your chest.

“You guys suck. I try and be NICE to you and I get laughed at for my eating habits. I don’t want to have to sit here for this” You huffed, getting up from your mate’s lap and walking upstairs to your shared bedroom, closing the door a bit louder than you probably should’ve when so many people were still sleeping.

“Damn, what crawled up her ass?” Hansol, who you had stomped past on the way to your room said, finally getting himself situated in the kitchen.

Wonwoo let out a frustrated sigh before he stood up from his place, grabbing a plate of pancakes in the process. He was still trying to figure out when his teasing was too much for you. And he probably would’ve been fine had the others not decided to join in. You liked them, you did, but you weren’t as comfortable around them just yet. Them taunting you probably really upset you and he was just the dumbass who let them continue to do it.

“Me. I’m an idiot. I’ll go talk to her and see if I can get her to come back down.” He said as he begrudgingly made his way to the stairs, slightly kicking himself internally for upsetting you over something so little and stupid.

-

Once he made it to your bedroom door, he tried to turn the handle, only to realize it was locked.

“(Y/N)? Baby? Can you please open the door?” He whined out, not realizing he had upset you to the point of you wanting even HIM to leave you alone.

You always wanted him around you. Even when you first came to the pack, you still would rather be near him. Even when he was with Song, you still liked having him close by. Even when you were angry at him, you’d rather be angry at him with his arms wrapped around you than be angry at him alone somewhere. You never locked the door. His inner wolf groaned at the thought.

“No.” You bluntly spit out, wanting him as far away from you as possible and trying to suppress a stomach growl all in one go.

“I brought pancakes…” Wonwoo all but sung out, having heard your angry stomach and knowing damn well you would give into him if he had food.

After hearing a small groan from the other side of the barrier, he heard a little click of metal before the door swung open. In front of him was a very angry looking you, your cheeks were stained with tears and it caused a small whimper to emit from his chest. He had caused you to cry and it crushed him.

You had your hand out in expectancy as he had promised sustenance in exchange for entry. He dutifully handed you the plate and closed the door behind him. He watched as you scarfed down a full pancake in one go. Damn, you were more hungry than he thought.

“What do you want?” You sniffled at him once you had cleared your airway of food.

You sat the plate down on the nightstand before you stood and turned your attention back to your mate, grabbing another pancake and taking small bites in the process. You were never really this hungry or ate this much, but when you got sad lately, you just felt like eating. Probably not the best habit, but you weren’t that good with your feelings, you always just followed your instincts instead. They always kept you alive, and right now they were telling you to eat, so you ate.

“I wanted to apologize baby. I didn’t mean to upset you. It really was just a joke. I didn’t mean to make you cry. You’re not weird. Plain pancakes are fine. I should’ve just kept my big mouth shut.” He groveled, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Yes. Yes, you should’ve.” You agreed, finally swallowing the remains of your food and crossing your arms in annoyance, slightly leaning away from his touch to wipe your tears away.

You wanted him to touch you. God, you wanted him to touch you. But you didn’t want to give in so easily, because once you gave in, you knew he’d get all smug and then you’d want to punch his smug face. You wanted him to genuinely feel bad before you crashed your lips to his and ripped each other clothes off. It was only fair.

Wonwoo could smell the wetness already beginning to form between your legs. He suppressed a smirk threatening to appear on his face for getting you this worked up by literally doing almost nothing, but he knew being cocky wasn’t a good way to get you to stop being mad at him. So he stuck with his original plan: begging for forgiveness.

He easily lifted you up and secured your legs around his waist, holding onto your back so you wouldn’t lose your balance and fall, “I really am sorry. I won’t do it again baby. I promise.” He spoke as he leaned his forehead against yours with his best pout, tugging at your heartstrings.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to contain your excitement for what was about to come, but failed miserably and let a happy smile creep up on your lips. You locked your hands behind his head, giggled at him and bit your lip.

“You’re forgiven. This time. BUT you have to make it up to me.” You decided, eyes looking up for a moment in thought to tease him. He slowly started moving towards the bed that was in the center of the room before he spoke up.

“And how would you like me to make it up to you baby?” He said as he began kissing your neck softly, trailing around your mate mark with a grin plastered on his face.

“Well for starters, you can fuck me senseless until I forget what I was even mad at you for to begin with.” You confirmed, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access to your exposed neck.

“With pleasure my love.” And with that, he fell to the bed with you in his arms, careful not to crush you in the process before he got to work on his promise.

(Updated 8/23)

[bisexualhobi]

Hey! I saw this anon’s ask and wanted to write in a little if that’s ok. (Also thank you to the anon for bringing this up and you Ana for opening up this space/topic here).

I’m not entirely sure how to feel…when I first heard, it was..well exactly as the anon said - it feels weird when people from our country of origin talk who don’t live here talk about racism for us here. Yes they (BTS) have been working here, and more so recently, but they don’t and haven’t lived here. It’s a very different experience, especially during/with the pandemic when asian hate crimes/microaggressions/racism rose, to live here or grow up here. So at first, I felt a mixed bag of things - confusion, discomfort, and then tried to get a little excited?

I think Sandra Oh (or maybe it was someone else, I can’t remember) pointed out that growing up as the minority is such a different experience and that we’ll never know otherwise. Never know what it’s like to not have to think about how we look or act or who we are because we didn’t grow up with the majority of people looking like us or sharing a culture with us or speaking a same language/sharing a mother tongue. It’s first, or starts as, a very subconscious thing and then, personally, it felt devastating and sad to realize that and have to contend with everything that it entails. And a point anon brought up that’s important is that it’s not just growing up here, but also minorities that live here, which BTS do not. 

Day to day, it’s a different life experience. It’s exhuasting to have to sit uncomfortable in your own skin. And be stared at cause you have different skin. And then be asked questions about ‘what are you’ and ‘what’s your nationality’ and called ‘exotic’, etc, etc. And then, there’s the little pockets we have to carve out for ourselves and fill with our culture, language, etc. 

(sorry I really delved away from the topic here, but my point is that the small day to day things shape your life and identity and views. And racism, hate crimes, microagressions, etc just pile on top of that and shrink me. 

And another big point is that no doubt that BTS experience racism, they’ve had death threats made against them, and the way they’ve been treated and asked questions and talked to by some interviewers in the US is abymsal, and none of this is to minimize how awful that is and how it affects them. it’s just a different experience as an asian American that I’m not sure this is the right space for them. (and they don’t fit everywhere, no one does) 

Talking about experiences, like yesterday, I had to watch kids from a nearby school marching about how they should have been safe and saying ’no to guns and violence’ - like that comes from this American gun culture that they, BTS, don’t have to contend with or live with (geographically) in the same way)

Anyways, then I sorta tried to make myself get excited cause in the spaces I’ve seen so far, that’s the general feel of this announcement - that people are excited/proud of this upcoming meeting and discussion. Cause it does say something that this is the administration/president they are coming to see and be associated with and to a certain degree, BTS are apolitical. Or actually, rather they work in vagueries that pull in a wider range of people. Cause I think when you have broad messages, less people are offended. And more projections on them can be made that fit our own ideals because they just haven’t given specificities. So who we want them to be fits under that big umbrella. And however this administration is, they’re still associated with a party and certain liberal ideals/values that maybe BTS are ‘aligning’ with. (I say ‘aligning with’ very loosely) (hope I didn’t ramble too much here and it makes a little sense)

All that said, it’s also just my initial reaction and thoughts for an announcement. I’m (obviously) waiting to see what it’ll end up being when they talk next week. And maybe it’ll be a show of support and not to talk over asian american (AANHPI) experiences here (though to show support, do they have to come to the white house and have a ‘discussion’ about it themselves? Idk honestly…) So, further thoughts and feelings I’m trying to reserve until what they actually talk about and present is done. Hoping it isn’t talking over people (minorities) in the US...

Yeah, it’s just only how I feel. (Also, I didn’t go back and re-read or edit this, so hopefully my thoughts (and excessive as hell use of parentheses) weren’t too confusing.) Thanks again to the anons and you Ana for asking, for making some space.

absolutely thankful for your insight right here bean (i always call u bean omg is that ok?) this is very helpful for me and i hope it'll help my followers understand the nuisance of this situation better

listen to the asian diaspora. listen to asian american voices. listen to first generation immigrants. uplift their voices because we live in times where asian hate but specially asian immigrant hate is at an all time high!

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): mentions of abuse (if you squint). Please do tell me if there are anymore.

Taglist (closed!):��@castellandiangelo​

Status: completed!

part 1 > part 2 > part 3

series masterlist

The raven-haired female marched closer to him, digging her index finger into his chest which I smacked off. She gave a dirty look which I countered with the nastiest face I could muster, and she soon turned away from me and crossed her arms, glaring at Eren, who still stood strong. "I'm tired of you, Mikasa. You either cancel our date or avoid me and go cheat on me with some idiot. I can't even use the fingers on my hands to count how many times that has happened. And, another thing, I may have been afraid of you at the start but now, I see no point in that. Your threats mean nothing to me. So, if you dare to try and do anything to any of my friends, especially (Y/N), you'll be sorry that I was the one you chose to mess with." "Wait... Was it her that made you act all rude and like a dickhead to me last year?" I suddenly realised. "Yeah. I'm so sorry about that, (Y/N). But can you keep your words for later, please?" he asked politely and I nodded with an apologetic smile before leaving the living room and going to my room to give them some privacy. 

I dropped onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling and thought if it was a good idea to bring Mikasa here. Well, it's too late to stop her now, and I'm doing this for Eren's sake. I just hope that he doesn't end up hating me for the rest of his life if something goes wrong. ~/~ A slam woke me up and I sprang up into a sitting position; my eyes were widened as I looked at my surroundings, seeing that I was in my bedroom. All was silent in my apartment, so I decided to get up from my bed and creep into the living room, only to find Eren sitting on the sofa. His elbows rested on his knees as he pinched the bridge of his nose. His teal orbs were hidden and I slowly approached him, voicing out a small 'hey'. His head tilted up and I gave him an uncertain smile as I sat next to him and draped an arm around his shoulders. "Everything okay?" "Not really. Well, I'm free from the burden of having a girlfriend. But it still feels like I lost something important." "Of course you're going to feel like that. However, you'll soon realise that there's nothing to mope over because you can now enjoy your life without worrying about anything. Other than uni, bills and all that other shit," I added reassuringly. "Do you want hot chocolate or something?" "No. I just want to lie down." I shifted a little away from Eren and patted my lap, wordlessly telling him to rest his head on my lap. He gave me a small smile and laid down on his back with his legs stretched across the sofa, leaning his head on my legs. He covered the top half of his face with an arm and both us remained in silence. Getting bored, I decided to fiddle with Eren's fingers. I leaned down and stuck one of his fingers into my nose, but he didn't even pull away so I put the index finger to his lips. That's when he tried to take his finger out of my grip. I softly laughed at the slight entertainment I earned when I got a reaction from him. "Idiot," he breathed before closing his eyes. "Thanks, hun. I know I'm an idiot." He snorted and then told me to hush so he could relax. I shut up and joined him, once again falling asleep as I tilted my head back to rest against the sofa. My hands still gently gripped one of his as I drifted off into a nap that wouldn't be disturbed until Hanji came home. It's not my fault I stayed up watching Netflix when I knew I had a lecture in the morning... Well, it is my fault, but still. Surprisingly, we weren't woken up even when Hanji had come home. Maybe she was considerate enough to let us sleep, or maybe she knocked out as well. The latter was more likely because she would never be that thoughtful to let me rest properly. Eren and I had fallen asleep at around eleven, and I awakened from my snooze at half-past two. The brunette probably had an early start at work today, which is why he was still asleep when I woke up. His head was still on my thighs so I decided to stay on the sofa instead of moving and waking him up. Luckily, I had my phone on me so I wasn't going to get bored by staring at the black screen of the TV in front of me. "(Y/N)!" "Shh. You're going to wake Eren up," I whisper-yelled to Hanji, who was about to burst our eardrums. "Too late," a gruff voice spoke and I glanced down to see that Eren was awake. I smiled at him before he lidded his beautiful eyes again. "Hi, Hanji, by the way," he muttered. "What's wrong with him?" the female with glasses inquired and I shook my head, telling her that it wasn't something to talk about right now. "So, how was breakfast with Levi~?" "It was nice. He basically knows everything about me, whereas he barely told me anything about himself. Obviously, it's not unusual since we literally just started to get to know each other, but it felt like he was hiding something. And that made me realise that I live my life out loud. Is that a bad thing?" "Only if the person you're talking to is shady," the male stated with his eyes still covered. "So, today, it could be seen as a bad thing." "Eren, let me love him," I whined. "Though, I see why you're concerned." "Did you tell him about Levi?" "Yeah. Because he was working when me and Levi went to the cafe. He saw how comfortable I was around him and decided to question me about it." "(Y/N), I love and care about you. Wouldn't you be the same if someone I created in my brain years ago suddenly appeared out of nowhere?" "Well, when you say it like that, it sounds dodgy." "I'm saying the truth, so he is dodgy. Hanji, back me up." "... I kind of side with (Y/N). Both of her previous relationships didn't work out, so maybe Levi's here to solve that." "Tch!" Eren finally sat up, fed up with the shit that Hanji and I were spewing. "I understand you're thrilled because of the fact that your 'dream guy' has shown up. But how can you trust him right away when you don't even know him? (Y/N), you said yourself that he was hiding something. Please, just don't get yourself into danger by trusting someone you just met." "I'll be fine, Eren. One day, I'll prove to you that I was right to believe in him." "Oh, I got Levi's number, (Y/N)." "Give that to me right now," I squealed and leapt towards Hanji. "Wait." My male best friend stood up and approached Hanji, taking the piece of paper before I could. I pouted at him as he put the paper into his pocket before crossing his arms. "I'll give it to you when my suspicions are gone. Until then, you only speak to him in person and don't tell him your whole life story." "Whatever, Dad," I muttered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Don't get annoyed just because I'm looking out for you," he said with a quieter voice than before. "I used to get irritated because you would constantly interfere with my life, but then I realised you always did it to protect me. I'm doing the same. So, don't blame me when something happens." Even though I was still mildly annoyed at Eren, I brought my arms around him, needing a hug from one of the best people I've met. He looped his arms around my form and drew me closer to him, stuffing his face into my hair. "Awww!" "Hanji, get in here," I said, my lips moving against Eren's clothed chest. I soon felt another person jump into the embrace as I giggled along with the male who lightly laughed. "I love you guys.” "Love you, too. Anyway, I think I'm going to head home. It's been a... troublesome day." "Damn, I almost forgot about that. How are you acting so normal?" "You guys are hiding something from me!" Hanji complained "(Y/N), you can tell her. I'm going to go," Eren announced and pulled away from the group hug. "I'll see both of you soon. Let's go out one day since we haven't in a long time." "Yeah, we should. You can bring Mika--" "Bye," Eren cut her off with a grin as I followed him towards the front door. "... Thank you, Eren." "I'm just returning the favour. Just promise me that you'll keep a distance between you and Mr Hot And Annoying Guy." "I'll try. And he isn't annoying. I love him," I replied just to tease Eren, who frowned. "I'm joking. But seriously, he isn't annoying. Okay, bye, my prince." "Bye, my queen," he smirked. I softly laughed at our stupidity and closed the door before locking it. Just as I was about to turn around, I heard something similar to a horde of rhinos in the corridor, coming towards me. Of course, I knew it was Hanji so I didn't get frightened by it. "Tell me what happened!" "Okay, okay. Let's go sit down." She followed me into the kitchen where I got a snack - a pot of cubed pineapple and a fork - and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island, starting the story as Hanji sat opposite me on the other side of the island. She never knew about Eren's difficult relationship with Mikasa, so I began with telling her the first problem. And then, about some of the events when she cheated on him, forced him to do things he didn't want to, avoided him, threatened him, and about today. Surprisingly, no words came out of her mouth as she intently listened, sometimes showing shock or concern. "And that's why he cut you off when you were about to tell him to bring Mikasa when we go out," I finished off. "Wow... I thought they were going to last long." "Yeah, because she put on an act. She's a toxic girl, and I'm glad Eren broke up with her." "Why did you never tell me about this?" "Because I'm an amazing friend who doesn't tell others about someone's secret. Anyway, I need to do some work. But first, I'm going to go freshen up since I've looked like a decaying corpse ever since I woke up this morning."

~/~ A loud laugh exited my lips when I witnessed a very angry Levi sit next to me in the lecture hall. He just glared at me as I continued cackling until my stomach hurt and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. A click of the tongue was heard from the male beside me as I started to calm down, wiping away the moisture that resided on my face. "Are you about done, darlin'?" he asked bitterly and I nodded with a grin staining my lips. "Yep... Now, tell me why you're wearing that?" I spoke, stifling another cackle that threatened to leave my lips. He rolled his eyes before responding, "I was having tea on the way to school, with Isabel and Farlan, and some fucking idiot decides to bump into me. I spat some profanities at the idiot since he caused me to drop my tea on my shirt. Luckily, my trousers aren't spoiled. Anyway, I asked Farlan if he had a spare shirt or something in his bag, but he didn't. I didn't want to, but I had to ask Isabel and she said she has a top. She handed it to me with nervousness because it happened to be this - a stupid pink, unicorn t-shirt. I have no idea why she had this of all things in her bag but I had no choice but to wear it even though it's so fucking small and stupid. Please tell me you have a hoodie or a jacket so I can hide it." "Yeah, I have this hoodie." I chucked the black, zip-up hoodie at him after he told his story, which I chuckled at a few times. But damn, because the shirt was small on him, I could really analyse his abs. The fabric outlined his perfectly sculpted form and I just wanted to trace my finger over all the lines. How much does he work out? "Thanks," he mumbled, slipping it on and zipping it up. "No problem, Mr Moody. I'll suffer in the cold for you." "It's not my fault you decided to wear a crop top." "And it's not my fault you spilt tea on yourself." "Well, I'm not going to five lectures today, wearing a unicorn shirt." "Ugh, don't remind me that we have five lectures. I can't wait for this day to be over." "... Oi, darlin'? It looks like that guy wants your attention," Levi pointed out and motioned to behind me, towards rows on the other side of the hall. I turned my head and my eyes met Jean's, who had a smirk on his lips. "Oh my god! Jean!" I exclaimed and sprang out of my seat, pushing past Levi, who blocked my path, and rushed to the brown-haired male, tightly hugging him. "Where were you this whole time? You don't know how much I worried for you! I started to think you died!" I frowned and resisted slapping him across the face for the sudden disappearance. "It's a bunch of stories. And since Professor Mike has just entered, you should take a seat." "You bastard, you're explaining everything to me at lunch." "Yeah, I will. Now, go sit down next to whoever that is." I nodded and quickly went back to the row where I sat with Levi and a couple of other people who minded their own business. He threw me a questioning look, which I acknowledged, but kept silent for a moment as I had my attention on our lecturer. "Jean Kirstein. I've known him since secondary school, where we kind of dated. He's been gone for like a month. No one heard from him during that time and he hadn't told anyone he was going to disappear. People, including myself, literally thought he died," I summed up quietly to answer Levi's wordless inquiry. "I swear, I'm going to punch that smug face of his later." "Hold on... You just said you dated that guy?" "We were fifteen I think, and he asked me out, so I said yeah. Before that, though, he had asked me several times, but I didn't trust him or take him seriously because he's a serious flirt and a dickhead, who I love dearly, no matter what I say about him. Back to the point, we were together for about five months, but we felt like we were forcing it. I don't know, it just didn't feel right to me, so we decided to stay friends. I'm glad we aren't awkward around each other or whatever because I wouldn't want to lose him even though he still flirts with me and pisses me off." "I see..." Levi replied as if pondering about something. "You have some weird friends/friendships." "Oi, I treasure my friends because they are the best I could ask for. Some I met in secondary school, and some I met here. Eren and Hanji are the only ones I've known for the longest. I've been friends with Hanji since I was like four or five, and Eren - since I was nine." Wondering why I'm telling him so much about myself even after Eren's scolding? Basically, since I didn't attempt to keep a distance myself and Levi, Eren decided to barge in again (he doesn't even come to the same university as us and he still somehow interferes). We had another (not small) argument, and I chose to be a bitch about it by talking to Levi and hanging out with him most of the time. But I haven't gotten his number, and we haven't been to each other's house yet since we have only known each other for two weeks and I do think that it's a bit too early for that. I am mature enough to make my own decisions so Eren doesn't need to get involved. "Me and Eren are kind of... dealing with some problems right now. I mean, I want to talk to him, but that means we'll have to talk about the topic of our argument. What if that just makes things worse? He's a great friend, he's been there for me all the time and I don't want to lose him either. And damn, his eyes, I could stare at them all day," I was more mumbling to myself than actually talking to Levi, but I'm pretty sure he still heard me. "And his ass," Levi added quietly, letting a small smirk creep onto his lips. What I learned about Levi was that he doesn't smile or laugh, but he smirks. "But seriously, it sounds like you got a crush on the guy." "Keep your mouth shut, Ackerman. I love him as a friend, nothing more." "What are you arguing about?" he asked, pushing my retort to the side. "Uhh... I would prefer not to share." "Okay." He shrugged and we both decided to focus on the lecture and make notes instead of chatting away. He wasn't the one to stick his nose into other people's business and I was glad about that. ~/~ The sound of skin smacking skin against echoed in the canteen over the voices of students. Jean's head was forced to turn ninety degrees to the left once my hand connected with his.

Hey, I wasn't being violent or rude, don’t worry. He gave me permission to slap him because he knew how angry I would be since he left without saying a word. "Thank you," I muttered and picked up my handmade sandwich. "Do you feel better?" He rubbed his reddening cheek as I nodded. "Yes. Now, explain." "Well, a couple of days before I left, my mum's cousin died. She was really close to him, my mum and her aunt lived near each other when they were younger so my mum and her cousin always used to hang out. They kind of grew apart since they moved away from each other, but still tried to stay in contact. So, we went to Germany to see my mum's family and to attend the funeral." "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Now, I feel bad for being annoyed with you and slapping you." "Don't worry about it," Jean said, giving me a small smile. "And we were there for a month because my mum decided she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her family. I'm sorry for not saying anything about it or telling you while I was gone. I was so busy and had a lot on my mind." "Yeah, I understand. I'm so sorry. Ugh, I bet you hate me now." "(Y/N), stop stressing over it. I don't hate you," he told me, lightly laughing. "Anyway, what have I missed?" "Not much. People thought you died. Eren broke up with Mikasa. I made some new friends: Levi, Isabel and Farlan and they're all very nice. Eren and I got in an argument and that's about it." "I'm surprised he finally dumped her. And, what happened between you two?" "He's just being overprotective." "And you never are?" "... Kind of. But, he's not letting me do what I want," I pouted like a little child. "I'm sure he's doing it for your own good." "Since when did you decide to side with him?" "When it concerns you." I rolled my eyes and continued eating as we carried on conversing, getting interrupted by a Levi. I looked up at him questioningly as he plopped down in the space next to me. "Where's Isabel and Farlan?" "They both went home since they have no more lectures today." "Aw, so decided to sit with me - your best friend?" I teased as he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "Oh, Jean, this is Levi. And Levi, this is Jean." "Hi," the raven curtly spoke as Jean responded more politely. I was about to speak up but my phone's buzzing prevented me from doing that. I fished it out of my pocket and answered it. "(Y/N)?" "Yes?" I replied with uncertainty since I haven't gotten a call from him in a week. "Are you still at uni?" "Yeah, why?" This time, I spoke more confidently. "When do you finish?" "I have one more lecture." "Okay. Can you meet me at the cafe after your lecture?" "Why?" "I want to talk to you." "... Sure. Bye." I sighed and ended the call as the two males I sat with looked at me in question. "None of your b--" I was cut off when my phone rang again and I answered it. "Hey. What do you want, Hanji?" "Could you get some snacks on the way home?" "Please don't tell me you invited people over." "Hey, they're your friends as well. Most of them are, anyway." "I'm not in the mood for people right now. And I'm meeting Eren at the cafe after. So, since you're inviting them, go get the stuff yourself." "But I'm home, I don't want to go out again." I huffed. "What time did you tell them to come over?" "At around seven." "Fine. I'll get whatever you want, just send me a list." "Okay. Thank you so much, (Y/N)!" "Whatever. I'll see you later." "Bye!" "I never got an invite," Jean fakely whined. "Yeah, because she probably thinks you're dead. She hasn't seen you yet." "Oh, yeah. Can I come, though?" "You ask her. I'm sure she'll be happy," I told him before looking at Levi who was about to speak up. "Don't even think about it, Ackerman. I don't want you stalking me." "I wasn't going to ask if I could come. I was going to--" "Hey, Levi~" All three heads turned to a group of girls who stood behind me and Levi. I immediately rolled my eyes since I knew why they were here - they wanted the oh so charming Levi to notice them and try and get a date with him. He's only been here for two weeks and he's like a freaking celebrity. "Hi..." "Are you free later?" "No, sorry. I'm... going bowling with (Y/N)." I briefly frowned before morphing it into a smile to the girls whose eyes lingered on me. Oh, how jealous they were. "Oh, that's sad. We probably could have done something better. Maybe another time." "Yeah, sure, whatever." The three girls walked away, making sure to give me a dirty look, and I lightly punched Levi's arm. "Hey, don't bring me into this. I don't want people hating on me just because I hang out with you. Just give those bitches what they deserve and straight-up reject them. Unless, of course, you want them to be all over you." "I do not want them all over me, but I don't want to 'straight-up reject them' because that's... rude." I scoffed tauntingly. "I never knew you cared about others' feelings." "Well, you've only known me for a couple of weeks. You either have good judgment or just jump to conclusions." "The first one. Jumping to conclusions, which I don't do, causes problems." "What about the time--" "Shut your mouth, Jean." "That will be difficult if I'm kissing you." I playfully rolled my eyes and a smile remained on my lips as I lightly kicked his shin under the table. The table was silent for a minute so I decided to check the time, noticing that we have to get to our last lecture in a few minutes. There was no rush so we chose to stay sitting and just relax before flooding our brains with gibberish. ~/~ "(Y/N)." I slightly shifted in my seat to turn around upon hearing my name. There stood my (male) best friend who gave me a little smile before sitting down in the chair opposite me. He noticed the iced tea placed on the table in front of him and his smile slightly widened as I sipped on my coffee before leaving it on the wooden surface. "What did you want to talk about?" I inquired. "I'm sorry for--" "You don't need to apologise. I've done the same thing to you but you somehow put up with me. I'm sorry for not listening to you even though you're just caring about me. And, since I was angry with you, Levi sort of knows my whole life story..." I confessed as Eren sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his beverage. "But, we haven't exchanged numbers or told each other where we live." "Good. I'm going to give Levi another two weeks before making my judgment. Only then will I give you his number." "... I missed talking to you. Sorry about everything." It's not only your fault. I get that you don't want someone to mess with your life." "And I might just hold back a little on barging into your life." "I'm actually glad you got involved, to be honest. I would still be controlled by Mikasa if it wasn't for you." I gave him a wink and a grin. We stayed there for about an hour, just talking and laughing before we decided to head home. Even though he would have to go home in the opposite direction, he walked me home. It wasn't even dark either so I scolded him for wasting time but he brushed it off with a grin and rested his arm over my shoulders. "Oh, shit," I whispered and Eren questioned what happened. "Hanji asked me to get some things for her since she's organised a party of sorts that I don't want to be there for." "Oh, yeah, she invited me, but I didn’t feel like going,” he told me as I abruptly changed our route. "And since you don't want to be there, why don't we drop off her things and leave? We could do something since it's Friday and we have nothing to do." "Hm. I don't mind. Where do you want to go?" "Don't know. Wherever our feet take us." He shrugged. "Okay, let's do that, then." After getting whatever was on Hanji’s list, we dropped it off before promptly leaving. And then, Eren and I had mindlessly walked around until we found ourselves at a bowling alley. "Oh, (Y/N)!" a shrill voice called, catching my attention as I took a sip of my slushie and watched Eren throw a bowling ball down the lane, knocking down seven of the pins. He turned around and I smiled at him, knowing he wouldn't be happy. I could tell he was forcing back a scowl as he approached me and the other three: Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

[a-simple-imagine]

Study Date

Requested by anonymous: “Hermione Granger x reader where reader is best friends with Luna and has a crush on Hermione. She never acts on those feelings because Hermione called Luna Looney and seems to dislike her and in the end maybe Luna sets them up. “

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 2.3k+

A/N - Today i offer you yet another story about hermione granger. Tomorrow? Who knows. 

Thank you to @kileyrose-2003​ for checking it over.

Hermione Granger was a complete enigma but that was probably due to the fact there was only so much you could learn through limited interactions. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that she was a spectacular witch with a thirst for knowledge. She had been placed in Gryffindor all those years ago but she truly could have excelled as a Ravenclaw; if that had been the case perhaps the two of you would be closer. Things would have been entirely different but alas you were left to admire from afar since that very first year when you noticed her across the Great Hall. You didn't even have any classes together until you started taking electives. However, as hard as you tried Hermione Granger seemed to avoid you at all costs. You had invited her to hang out many times but she always declined. Maybe Ron and Harry were the limits of her social perimeters?

A hand sways before your eyes drawing you back to reality. "So easily distracted."

Luna Lovegood had such a melodic, soft voice that it was weirdly hard to ignore. Then again everything about the girl could be considered peculiar which was something you greatly admired. She didn't care what anyone thought of her and yet you cared so desperately what they thought of you. "Sorry," You hum, folding the paper in your hands. "I just... do you think there is something wrong with me?"

"No more than anyone else,"

"Maybe that's why she doesn't like me," You let out a defeated sigh before placing the origami tiger you had been working on down on the table.

"Who?"

From the corner of your eyes, you spot a familiar brunette wander into the Great Hall. A few books wedged under her arm. "Can you just give me a sec-"

Without giving Luna a chance to respond, you leap to your feet and scramble along the length of the entire table and then around to catch Hermione.

"Wait," You place your hand against her shoulder, startling her just a little. "Hermione,"

She spins on her heel; her frown morphing into that of a welcoming smile. At least she seemed happy to see you. "Yes?"

"I..." you trail off as a wave of heat washes over you. The Gryffindor always managed to make you feel anxious. It wasn't a bad thing; you knew it was because you liked her but with her already taking every opportunity to ignore you it didn't exactly help the situation. "I was wondering if you uh, wanted to play with us? Me and Luna, I mean."

It sounded rather childish slipping from your lips but Hermione's brow quirked up. "What are you playing?"

"We're having a race," Your expression brightens at her interest, signalling back to the Ravenclaw table where Luna now sat alone. "We both made something out of paper and we’re gonna enchant them so they run the racecourse we made." To the left of Luna was a makeshift racetrack made of books, cups and even your spare inks and quills. It was only small so it'd be a quick race before lunch began. "If I win Luna promised to make my bed every day for a week. If she wins she gets my last bag of Fizzing Whizzbees."

"Shouldn't you be studying during study hall?" Seems Miss Granger was all work and no play. You simply shrug, standing a little taller.

"I'm smart enough already," You declare proudly, a cocky smirk on full display. "And besides it’s nearly lunchtime so we were long overdue a break."

You watch her eyes drift from yours over to where Luna was sat and back. "You two are quite the pair."

"Me and Luna?" As if she could sense you talking about her, Luna waves at the two of you. "She's like my best friend."

"You don't find her a little... strange to be around?" Hermione muses. "A little... loony perhaps? Half the school thinks she's lost her mind."

She was right in saying that a lot of your fellow students judged Luna harshly for being a little more outside the box but you never expected Hermione to be one of them. "I think... she's awesome and I'm glad she's my friend. You shouldn't judge her so harshly when you don't even know her."

You may have invited her to join you but that offer was no longer on the table as you marched back to the Ravenclaw table without another word. Slumping down in your seat exasperated sigh. "Are you okay?"

Plastering on a smile, you give her a firm nod. "Shall we start?"

"What happened over there? You seemed rather excited before."

"Nothing," Focusing on the origami, you pick up your wand.

"You shouldn't bottle things up," Luna expresses softly, picking up her wand too. "Might make your head explode."

"Does it ever bother you that people call you crazy?" You wonder.

"Not really," her head shakes. "It's all in good fun."

You never understood if Luna's belief in people was misguided or just for show. If the roles were reversed you'd certainly not enjoy having people make fun of you. "But what if it's not?"

"Then it's out of my control," Luna flashes a smile. "Shall we start."

With a nod of your head and wands at the ready, Luna starts the countdown. "3... 2..." your grip tightens around your wand. "1.... Go"

With a flick of your wrist, the paper tiger springs to life but it takes a few nudges from the end of your wand to get it moving. When you saw Luna's monstrosity trailing behind, you knew you had this race in the bag.

"I don't think Hermione likes you very much," you don't know why you decided to tell her that, it seemed only cruel in the moment. "I don't think she likes me much either as hard as I try,"

"Maybe you should stop trying," Luna's focus was exclusively on the race as you watch her. Maybe you should stop trying... that was easier for her to say because she didn't find herself with butterflies every time she saw the girl. Searching the Gryffindor table, you find Hermione sitting alone; scribbling away on a piece of parchment. "Staring can be considered quite rude, y'know?" 

Glancing back at the race, you find both racers have crossed the finish line and were now laying completely still against the table. Students were beginning to pile into the hall for lunch so it was time to clean up a little. "Sometimes it's hard not to," Reaching over the table you grab your quill. "She's just interesting- who won by the way?"

"It was you," Did you win or was she just being nice? It didn't matter now anyway so you may as well take the win.

You haven't spoken to Hermione since that day she had the audacity to question your friendship with Luna. You didn't necessarily think she had meant what she said in a bad way but it just hadn't sat right with you. It also helped that the only class you shared was Defence Against the Dark Arts so she wasn't all that hard to avoid. The page of your textbook flips over with a gust of wind as you lounge against the stone archways in the quiet courtyard. When you spot Harry, Ron and Hermione, you bury your face behind your book in hopes of not drawing any attention. If you didn't acknowledge she was there maybe you wouldn't long to run over.

"Hey," Slowly lowering the book, you spy the girl in herself looking perkier than usual. Seemingly having abandoned her friends just to come and speak to you.

"Hello," you reply quietly, keeping your eyes on the page. It was explaining how to create the Forgetfulness Potion; a beginner level potion and not at all hard to make.

"Luna said you'd be out here," You glance up at the mention of your friend's name. Why had she been talking to Luna? "And that you may require a study partner,"

Strange. She had never wanted to study with you before. "You don't have somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Luna can be quite convincing but if you'd rather study alone, I can go."

"No," the reply comes a little too quickly. "I mean, uh... you can stay. I'd really like the company."

"Great, Ron and Harry are rather distracting when it comes to studying," She plops herself down at the other end of the archway by the end of your feet. Your knees were now pulled a little closer to your chest, propping up your potions book. "I can quiz you if you want?"

"Can I ask you something?" You pose the question as you sit up a little straighter trying to give her more room; handing over the book in the process.

"Of course," Taking the boom, Hermione's hand brushes over the cover but she opens it and begins flickering through the pages. She had the same textbook so you're not exactly sure what she expects to find.

"Why are you here?" The rustling of pages comes to an abrupt stop as her eyes settle on yours but only for a moment.

"To study?"

"You've never been interested in me before," you reply bluntly. "I don't see what's changed now? What exactly did Luna say?"

"Just that you like me," Wide eyes of surprise, your stomach sinks. She was joking right? She had to be. "And that you think I don't like you which is perplexing. So she told me where you usually go to study and that you'd very much appreciate my company."

"I'm gonna kill her," you growl under your breath, sinking down against the stone. How you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole right now.

"I also thought it was only right that I apologise for the other day," you can't even bring yourself to reply; too scared you'll somehow embarrass yourself further. "I shouldn't have spoken about Luna that way- I also apologised to her. Are you ready?"

Anything to help forget about what Luna had purposely done, you nod your head a little. Setting this whole thing up was a sweet enough idea but she didn't have to straight-up tell Hermione that you liked her. Hopefully, you could just play it off as friends. A silence settled between the two of you as Hermione searches through your book. "I'm gonna say a potion and you just have to list the ingredients, simple enough?" You can feel her eyes on you but can't bring yourself to look back. "You alright?"

"Mhmm,"

"Are you sure?" She questions. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything. I'm sure Luna had the best of intentions."

"Just say a potion," It's even more awkward when she brings it up the fact Luna told her. "Please,"

"Okay, how about... Draught of Living Death?"

"Uh..." for a second your mind seems completely blank. Taking a deep breath you settle your nerves a little. "Standard potioning water, Powdered Root of Asphodel..." your brow furrows in concentration. "Infusion of... Wormwood? Valerian root, A Sopophorous bean and-"

"Sloth brain," Hermione finishes. "Good job. Okay, let's try..." The pages flutter between her fingers for a moment. "Exstimulo Potion."

Exstimulo potion. You rake your brain for any memory of it; If you remember correctly it was a potion used to boost magical energy. It was a beginning level potion so it won't be too complicated to make. "Re'em blood... Granian hair, Snowdrop maybe, and like... uh... Bitter root?"

"For an extra point, what colour should it be?"

That you knew almost instantly. "sky blue."

With each passing question, your confidence grew around the same speed as Hermione's smile did. You liked to think that your extensive knowledge of potions was impressive but in all honesty, some wouldn't see it that way. "You are really good at this,"

"I enjoy potions. They value knowledge over skill more than some of the other classes- that's not to say potion-making doesn't require skill and vice-versa. " You explain, moving so your legs now dangle over the edge similar to how Hermione was sitting. "It's probably my best class but I like the study of ancient runes too. What about you? I imagine you're brilliant no matter the class."

"I wouldn't go that far," Her gentle laugh fills your ears, filling you with such an innocent sense of glee. "I like most of my classes though, I would take more if I could."

"Of course you would," You giggle to yourself. "I heard in the past you used a time-turner just to attend more classes."

"Guilty," She offers you a smile. You'd done research on time turners, they were interesting little devices but it took a lot of guts to use one. "It was worth it."

"It's a pretty smart way to use one," No surprise considering who you're talking to.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Anything." Hermione fiddles with the corner of the page she has settled on.

"When Luna said you like me, I'm guessing she meant..."

The fire in your cheeks spread hot and fast which had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. She really had to bring it up again? She couldn't have just ignored it and moved on? "...yeah." You admit quietly. Handing your textbook back, Hermione slips down onto her feet

"So this was her way of setting us up... hmm," Spinning on her heel, she looks to the sky. The sun was beginning to set so it was illuminated by an orange glow. "For a girl so imaginative I would have expected something a little more than a study date."

"I like studying," She sharply turns back to you.

"As do I," She offers a gentle smile. "But I think we should do something a little more traditional for a first date, don't you?"

"First date?"

"Only if you want to,"

"I... yeah. I'd love to."

[heartlandians]

Amen to your note about gw. I, too, loved Heartland, the whole TAMY relationship, Jack, the beautiful vistas, the horses. Starting when TAMY married in Season 8, Ty’s character just seemed off, weird, like he didn’t want to be there. His hair was ridiculous. When he left the show, I wasn’t all that bothered. He wasn’t a very good actor at that point. I figured he was ready to move on after 13 years. I get that. I did listen to his podcasts. At first, they were good, he was engaging with his guests, most of whom were Heartland actors. Then he began to branch out into stranger topics. Then Covid hit. And his true self emerged. He is so self absorbed, so anti-vac, so pro-everything I am against. And, those that follow him are either in love with Ty or ignorantly following him because he espouses the same misinformation that they believe. I have written a couple of FanFiction.Net…in the middle of two…all 3 involve TAMY. But, I can’t stand gw. It makes it hard to finish them. I think that Amber deserves way more credit for the success of Heartland. Anyhow. I applaud your stance. Thank you. Submitted by: Anonymous __________________________

This whole thing has been weighing on me ever since covid hit, and we were starting to learn about his stances with masks, safety regulations and eventually with vaccines. It was a concern I voiced when Ty’s death was leaked, and he was starting to “branch out” into this territory with his social media presence. What would happen? 

I didn’t know if the leak was real or not, it really could have gone either way, but I feared what would happen if it was fake since he kept attending “freedom marches” without masks and really wanted everyone to know that he was NOT going to be wearing a mask or follow safety protocols, just few days before he was needed on set. We also know, based on Heartland, that he has not had a problem wearing masks before to keep him or others safe, so this was a choice he made for himself (and therefore, others). Not that I have ever had a problem telling people apart from their characters, but it was beginning to become very real to me that he was not Ty Borden when it comes to science and medicine, however I think some people lost that memo - and/or still haven’t gotten it. So I guess I have to disagree with you on his acting; he really made it look like he believes taking precautions in situations where someone’s health is at risk. I bought his performance as Dr. Tyler Borden.

Anyway, back to my blogger perspective. 

When he left the show, I could sigh out of a relief to some degree because all the covid related reasons aside, I just didn’t want to imagine what his “activism” would have brought to the set. They were already going through hard times as it was, isolated from their friends and family, working long hours - not to mention Chris had just survived covid himself - and I just didn’t want to imagine them working in an environment where someone’s very vocal about the things he’s passionate about. I feel a little better knowing all his scenes with Amber (and others) were filmed seperately and his body double was used for scenes where we couldn’t see Ty’s face, just because it feels it was the safest way to go both physically and mentally. I really applaud the whole cast and crew for bringing us entertainment in such a scary time. Last year everything was still very fresh, and we are still learning new things every day, but the consideration they put into making sure people would not get the virus is respectable. When it comes to something like that, there’s no room for arrogance; this is literally life and death. It’s better to be safe than sorry as you don’t want anyone’s death on your record. They did their best with what they had, and I think they really made season 14 work despite all the obstacles. Same goes for season 15.

So for a year or so, I was somewhat “fine” because I didn’t have to be so concerned about him anymore since he was not in the show, but at the same time I knew he kept having a platform mostly because he had once been Ty Borden, a character loved by many, and I knew this would affect how people would receive his message. He had earned their trust through Ty, which I feel can be dangerous. I was “keeping an eye” on the situation, trying to figure out how to feel about it, if there was something I should be doing in terms of having this blog (and then eventually having my podcast with Izzy). I thought, well, since he’s not part of the show anymore, I can write him out more easily, but the more everything keeps piling up and the more alarming things get with new cases, the more I’ve felt that I have to do something when it comes to my blog and his part in it. I knew I couldn’t possibly just delete all the posts I had made about him, because they weren’t all about him anyway, and at the same time Ty has such a big presence in the show that it can’t be ignored. And like I mentioned earlier, Ty is the show’s creation (and to some degree Lauren Brooke’s), it’s not him. So in many ways, there’s very little I can do, but at least I don’t have to give his hashtag anymore notes. I know it’s not much, but in terms of having a blog, fading out his name is the least I can do. Based on my own morals and the responsibility I feel for my fellow people, I don’t want to give him, his name or his ideology a platform because he isn’t acting responsibly based on what I feel are the proper things to do right now. I don’t remember who said it, but I’ve seen someone say that Ty Borden wouldn’t like him as a person, and I think that kind of tells something about the situation and why I, as a Heartland blogger, feel like he doesn’t fit into this Heartland narrative anymore.

Last thing I want to say is, I feel bad that the cast and crew has been left to deal with the aftermath of his departure, about the hurtful conspiracies people keep spreading as “truths” (”scoops from the set”) and the harmful attacks the rest of the cast has to endure on a daily basis, but on a more personal level, I also hate that he has torn the fandom apart and I don’t know if this is something we can come back from. It’s a shame that that will be his legacy after 14 years in the show.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[curedigiqueen]

This year I spontaneously watched Appmon nearly 2 times, and I have thoughts about it. And what better way to acknowledge it than on its 5th Anniversary. (Or 4th anniversary of Our Singularity). I'm planning on at least covering my thoughts on the main 5 kids this month, in an order based 100% on who I want to talk about first.

It's Astra.

I think Astra is generally the least liked Appmon character, or perhaps more accurately, is the character I see the most disdain for. And, honestly, I can understand where it comes from. But he’s my favorite Appmon character actually. In a cast with a non-conventional protagonist, a blackbelt idol, and a hacker, Astra’s “Apptube” is well, just kind of there. Like a more modern version of Eri’s idol career. His personality is clearly meant to be representative of the target audience, the group whose number one career aspiration is Youtuber. So, he’s kind of cringy and kind of annoying, especially to an adult audience. I get it. But Astra’s a character I found to have a lot of stuff going on.

I admittedly tend to have a soft spot for the babies of any team, especially if they are assertive enough to keep up with their seniors. And Astra does fit the bill. He’s generally seen to be on equal footing with the others, and his rather aggressive way of talking to the other doesn’t exactly make you think baby of the team. He doesn’t use honorifics, and in general Astra’s referred to in the same terms as Haru and Rei. (As near as I can tell, anyway with my nonexistent Japanese skills, correct me if I’m wrong). The fact he’s in elementary school is a bit more incidental than anything.

We learn the most about Astra’s family and upbringing compared to the other characters, and it is central to his arc. We get a lot of information straightforwardly in the show. He had a lot of pressure on him as the heir to the school, and felt pressured to act the part of the perfect heir. Throughout the show we see him struggle with the pressure of being the heir. As a child he was extremely dedicated to following his father's footsteps. He didn’t seem to see himself as anything other than the heir to his father's school. He seemed set apart from other children, seemingly due to the closed-off way he acted. This dedication to being a good heir was to the detriment of his happiness. Until Musimon came into his life allowing him to loosen up and seek his own happiness. Classic stuff. But Astra is a little more at war with himself than may be obvious by his “annoying” attitude.

While we first learn about Astra suppressing his own eccentricities, in his debut episodes, it’s not until later that we learn about his mother, and learn that this side of his personality didn’t come out of nowhere. His mother is very similar to him, which gives us the question of why he ever became so disciplined in the first place if his behavior isn't out of place in his family, and his mother is a strong advocate for him doing his own thing. In fact, Astra seemed initially a bit embarrassed by his mother when he introduced her to the other Appdrivers. Of course this is almost certainly because his mother calling his friend “pretty” and gushing about her husband and how they met is embarrassing, and even if Astra himself acts just as obnoxious. But even so, he's clearly less respectful towards her. The reasons behind why Astra calls his mother by her first name are unclear, though it doesn't seem to stem from a lack of love for his mother.

But regardless, it helps build the idea that more likely, he was trying to win the approval of people outside his immediate family. After all, as shown in episode 7, it was the assumption that Astra would inherit the school by others that prompted Astra’s response to his father. Even if Astra’s father does have a desire for Astra to inherit his position, he also understands that it's first and foremost Astra’s life to live. Astra however does have a lot of respect for his father and seems to value his opinion immensely, he recognizes that not inheriting the school would be disappointing to his father and does not want to disappoint him. So while I think there is something to be said for Astra’s behavior relating to a desire to impress his father, I don’t personally think it's the origin in its entirety.

Astra over the course of the series is very independent and marches to his own beat, Astra, like Eri, had made the first step to change prior to his introduction, but that doesn’t mean he was already completely different from the boy who acted stiff to prove himself to others. Astra’s second episode deals with him succumbing to peer pressure in his new activity, and his final episode is about not succumbing to his uncle's expectations, the old expectations that kept him down for so long. (But it's also a bit about fulfilling Hinarin’s expectations, expectations he agreed to).

Despite Apptubing being the career choice where Astra does as he pleases, his final episode isn’t about him Apptubing because he wants to but as a way to help someone else. Particularly his cousin. While it isn’t explicitly clear if Astra knows it’s his cousin the fact of the matter is that he’s helping his family through his Apptubing, even if it is something he picked up for himself. (A reasoning perhaps parallels Eri’s reasons for being an idol, wanting to bring smiles to her mom, despite it clearly being something she herself enjoys). His care for his family is exactly the reason he continues to train to be the heir, but that doesn’t mean even if he doesn’t uphold expectations that he can’t be a help to his family.

Astra’s arc deals with expectations vs. a desire to help. Astra in large part is assertive about not having to help other people out and doing his own thing, recognizing he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. But his actions consistently betray his care for others. I think this is most evident in the way Astra acted as if he wasn’t going to help Eri out with her elections, but did so anyway, even if he antagonized her a bit in the process, but ended up being the proudest of her accomplishments. Not to mention the way he continues to train as the heir, albeit on his own terms. Over the course of the series, he becomes more open with his care towards others, culminating in the jailbreak episode, but he’s always been shown to care. He’s finding that balance between living his own life and helping others.

It’s clear that Astra doesn’t hate being heir at least. He’s extremely determined to do both. And personally, I think it’s very possible that he sees Apptubing as a hobby. He after all proposed the half-hour limit himself. Even at the beginning with his most abrasive. He dutifully kept it to a relatively small impact on his life. For all that it’s brought up as an important element in his life, and he is shown breaking his own rule on occasion without consequence. One of the longest times we see him Apptubing is when he’s helping Eri out. Of course on the flip side of that, we have episode 8 where he breaks the rule because his videos aren't doing as well as he likes, but that's definitely tying back to his desire for people's approval. While he is for lack of a better word, tempted into giving up training to be an iemoto to dedicate himself to Apptubing, it isn’t something he seems to seriously consider at all.

The biggest thing Musimon gave him was not the courage to be an Apptuber, but the courage to be himself. Indulging in Apptubing for fun is merely a small part of that. Astra is still the good heir, but he is no longer letting that define his entire life, sometimes forgoing certain parts of training. But that doesn’t mean that tea ceremony is a bad part of his life. There’s also a certain balance in his personality between the abrasive “annoying” boy at the start of the series and the passive boy prior to the show's beginning. I don’t feel that the polite Astra is completely disingenuous. Astra is capable of acting calm and grounded, and this side of himself becomes more apparent as the series goes on, particularly with Eri who, in contrast to him, throws herself into her idol career with more and more genuine passion. When he supports Eri with his videos but asks her to take a break, which tracks with what we know about his fathers working habits. It’s his final focus episode where he is shown to be acting, more in someone else's interest, and even shown to be a bit embarrassed by it. In contrast to an Astra who even in episode 19, was not taking much seriously. I think it’s only fair to say Astra did genuinely inherit some of his father's more grounded and dutiful nature.

And while earlier I did say Astra’s age feels incidental, I don’t think that is to say it has no bearing on his role in the story. It's part of the reason Eri is so dismissive of him at first, Sure, the other’s treat him as equal, and are in no way particularly protective of him, nor do they expect him to be any less capable than him. But this isn’t to say Astra’s relative youthfulness isn’t apparent when with the others at least in the beginning. Astra is definitely on the more immature side of things, he after all is the one who started the rivalry with Eri because his ego was bruised (not that Eri's initial dismissal of him was helping matters any). As I said earlier, Astra mellowed as the show progressed and I think it’s a fair assumption to say he’d continue to do so. Not that he’ll lose his energy, but that he’ll be able to act with more maturity and consideration for others. The most common complaint about him I’ve heard is “annoying”, which is understandable. But that’s not accidental, even in-universe (hah), others seem to find him to be a bit much at first at the beginning of the series. His “annoying” personality is him testing the waters beyond the role of dutiful heir he’s always played. He’s annoying because he’s an 11-year-old boy who does not always know how to act in ways appropriate to his situation. He’s the kid of the group. I do understand if that still makes watching irritating. Watching should be fun after all, but it’s more of a matter of opinion than an objective flaw.

Unlike Gatchmon, Offmon, and Dokamon whose personalities seem to clash a bit with their buddies, Musimon and Astra are consistently on the same page, after episode 8. This is exemplified in episode 29, where Musimon runs away for fun rather than because he wants something from Astra, and Astra is the only partner who seems to have not been worried, recognizing what Musimon was doing. Of course, their fight in episode 8 was about Astra not being true to himself, thus naturally conflicting with the one who is on the same page as his true self. Musimon shares Astra’s high energy but caring nature. I’m not an expert on the Japanese language by any means, but there is something notable about the fact Musimon uses “Boku” to Astra’s usual “Ore”. Musimon and Astra are without a doubt very similar, the only difference in their demeanors being Musimon is perhaps a bit less confrontational. If Musimon being Astra’s buddy says anything about Astra, it’s probably that Astra is by his nature not quite as aggressive as he seems. Which for someone who clearly used to takes people's opinions of him to heart, seems about right.

Astra’s arc is all about expectations, expectations as an Apptuber, and as the heir. Astra living up to, or disregarding expectations based on what he believes is best. Living the life he wants to live.

Some final observations from me in regards to Astra, is that he’s paired with Fakemon for God Grade. While it’s probably in part just how things worked out logistically, it also makes a bit of sense as a foil. Fakemon is constantly being disingenuous, while a huge part of Astra’s arc is being true to himself, while also fulfilling other people's expectations of him. Also of note, Entermon is described as a Digimon who exists wherever you can find culture something that is particularly relevant to Astra.

While being biracial is not directly important to the story, it’s not incidental and clearly is thematically related to him being trapped between the traditional and the modern Japan. While in story Astra’s story is simply about outside expectations of inheritance, It’s possible to read Astra prior to the series as trying to overcompensate for his foreign mother in the eyes of the people at his father’s school. This is something I find notable considering that Appmon’s assistant producer, Akari Yanagawa, went on to become the producer of 2019’s Star Twinkle Precure, a season of Precure notable for the franchise's 2nd biracial cure, whose personal arc more obviously alluded to racism than Astra's, though still very indirectly.