#but yeah it’s been 2 months and even though literally everything else is going terribly i’m happy ive been able to let go of her

[that-one-anxious-mango]

You + Me = US (1)

Summary: After a shocking discovery is made that you decide to keep to yourself out of fear..you realize your secrecy may be doing more harm than good.

Content: BIG ANGST. Reader feeling sad and conflicted. Appearance of a friend. Argument and Tension between Austin and reader. Tense and sad Austin. Just all around Angst. 

A/N: Hello Beautiful humans! I hope you’re all well. I know this is something I hadn’t planned out putting out so soon. But seeing as ya’ll wanted the first part of the juicy angsty story I mentioned so bad..this is it. I hope you all enjoy because..yeah. Much love. *hugs*

P.S Please Always feel free to comment, reblog, and send me letters about the fic and anything else pertaining to the series!  And also let me know to be added to the taglist! 🏷️

Taglist: @purejasmine , @wacoshuffle

---

So here you were.

One Bathroom Counter

Six tests.

Twelve brightly positive lines.

One Shocked Alana

And one terrified you.

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

You almost couldn't believe it.

You were pregnant and scared shitless.

Immediately you’d burst into tears while Alana who usually wasn’t one for traditional methods of comfort..did her best.  

From there a hour crying session began until you got the strength to talk.

" Alana what am I gonna do. This isn’t suppose to be happening right now. Not n-now." You sniffled out hanging on to your friend tighter.

This was bad..no scratch that...it was terrible timing.

You had just finally broken some ground at work and was finally feeling like your contributions were being used. Austin was riding the high of Elvis and had also just finished filming Dune part 2. Not to mention you'd only gotten engaged not even three months ago and hadn't been in the new condo two good months...which you'd been literally going at it like rabbits in.

But still, everything was flowing just the way it needed to flow, and something like this was certain to disrupt it.

" You're gonna have to do what you need to do, babes. No matter what you need to take care of you first above all else." Alana offered.

Looking at her with red eyes you asked, " What would you do? "

Mirroring you back with a face of stone Alana was hesitate to answer because in her mind.. you may not have wanted to hear her true opinion. 

She replied, " Honestly."

Taking a breath you nodded.

" Well...."

—-

It'd been almost a month since you'd found that you were pregnant. And it had not been a easy ride. Between the fatigue, constant nauseous feeling, tiredness, and the task of doing your best to hide all signs of the minimal morning sickness from everyone.

You were exhausted.

But still the only two souls that knew were you and Alana.

And as much as you wanted to tell Austin and everyone else...you weren't ready.

Immediately when you stepped inside your home you smelt the delicious scent that carried through the air along with the soft jazz music you could hear from the kitchen. When you entered you were greeted by a enthused Magnus who did his everyday duty of administering your daily dosage of puppy kisses. After you went to the kitchen.

" Hey, mama. Been waiting to see you all day." Austin chirped from his post at the stovetop. He looked to have been making Fajitas and yellow rice, one of your favorite things he made, but  your stomach didn't jump at the sight of them like they normally would.

" Hi. That smells good, babe." You responded slowly inching toward the living room faking a smile. Really the closer you got, the more you wanted to gag. It smelled so funny.

" Thanks. I figured it had been a hot minute since I'd made it and I know its a favorite of yours. I thought we might eat this for dinner then maybe we could finish another chapter of the book we got Saturday upstairs."

You just nodded, " Yeah, Aus. That sounds nice. I'm gonna go lie on the couch for a little bit though. Feeling little tired." You informed.

Austin had to hold back the sullen expression that wanted to form and instead replace it with a small smile, usually whenever he cooked you were perched right on a seat at the kitchen island chattering and giggling. But as of recent that hadn't been the case and Austin would be lying if he said it didn't bother him.

" Okay."

From there the two of you had dinner as normal making little small talk here and there. Mostly work talk and little about plans for the summer the two of you had made which now made you said since they might not be feasible with the new information of your...condition.

Post dinner Austin let Magnus out to potty before you both ventured upstairs with the happy hound following where the two of you separately shower and change to then got in bed and Austin took his turn to read.

Feeling actually tired you let him sort of cuddle you with his unoccupied hand on your back while your head rested on his chest and your legs were intertwined.

Seeing that the book was a romance once you'd hit a certain part of the chapter it'd gotten..spicy . And with the two of you particularly in a enclosed space like your bed, it wasn't shocking to you when Austin decided to make a move.

He'd leaned in and grabbed your face pulling yours to his in a sweet kiss. A kiss that you couldn't help but naturally blend into. This was the most action the two of you had seen in a while. He was enjoying being this close to you. He drank in the scent of mango and vanilla that came from you and savored the soft of your skin on his fingertips. 

Gaining more traction without breaking the union Austin had managed to to set the book aside on the nightstand while maneuvering to hover over you. Everything was okay until you felt a hand move from caressing the top of your breast down to brush the top of your stomach.

Startled you abruptly pulled away alarming Austin.

" Whoa. Hey you alright? What's the matter? " He questioned searching your face.

Putting on a poker face you nodded, " Yeah I'm fine, babe. Just..do you mind..." You trailed silently gesturing for him to move off.

Obliging instead of just rolling over, Austin got up from the bed standing to look at you. You couldn't quite pin-point what he was thinking, but from his expression it was clear he was bothered.

" Y/N what's going on? Is it me? Have I done something? "  He asked.

Shaking your head you scooched off the bed moving to stand, " Of course not, Aus. Why would you think that? It's fine. I'm fine." You said feeling a whoosh of anxiety enter your chest.

" Well I honestly don't know what you want me to think, baby. I mean as of late every time I come near and try to hold you , you move away from like I got the plague. We haven't had a date night in three weeks because you always keep saying you're too tired or busy. Whenever I'm home and I cook dinner for us you don't wanna even sit down and eat with me." Austin poured looking at you with pleading eyes. " It feels..like you don't want me around most days."

Your eyes began to water hearing his outpour of concern and neglect. 

“ That’s not true, baby. You know I want you around all the time.” You tried assuring.

You hadn’t meant to get this way. You felt terrible. Like a monster. You'd never meant to make him feel this way.

A bitter laugh left him, “ I can’t tell.” 

Looking at you he could see that you felt bad and once your tears began rolling,  he felt his eyes begin to feel moist.

" Baby...." He dragged out trying to keep the strain against his voice small, " We're not even making love anymore. The last time you let me touch you was almost a month ago. A-and before that we could barely keep our hands off each other." He painfully pointed out thinking about all the passionate love making the two of had been doing. You used to joke around with him and tease that he had to be part energizer bunny because he never needed a recharge.

But nonetheless it was true.

You'd been avoiding him, and tucking yourself away while you tried to figure out what you were going to do.

Doing little things like wearing loose clothes even to bed when he knew you preferred to be near naked most times. When he'd offer shower with you, you'd always politely decline brushing it off as you were just going to be in and out. You put space between the two of you when you watched shows or ate dinner. Austin had taken note of it all, and while he had been trying to give you some space and be supportive. But he feared he was at the end of his rope.

But still you couldn't find the voice to say anything back to him, and this unfortunately heighten his emotions so bad that he said the unthinkable.

" You know what cut the shit, Y/N! " Austin sighed placing his hands into his face. " Who is he? " Austin accused feeling like you'd just been struck in the chest.

" E-excuse me." You gawked in disbelief at what your fiancée was shockingly insinuating. He had to know better than even letting a passing thought like that enter his mind.

" You heard me. Who is he? " He repeated with more attitude. " Because whatever you're not getting here you gotta be getting somewhere, right? It's Lucas isn't it?" He sourly threw out the name of the name of your friend who'd been helping with your photography classes you'd enrolled in. The same Lucas from the night at Alana's party that had tried to get extra friendly with you.��“ You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” The words thrown out like venom.

You felt you heart race prompting you to rest a hand on your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But no much how much steady breathing you practiced, it wouldn't help stop the tears that began cascading down your face, " Austin...H-how could you even think that. No! There isn't anyone else. Not Lucas..not anyone!" " You choked out in disbelief full on crying now.

Raising his head to look at you he sighed, " Ah hell, Y/N." He mumbled in discontent at seeing you cry the way you were. He hated when you cried. " I don't know what to think at this point! This isn't like us. This isn't like YOU."

You nodded feverishly trying to calm down, " I know...I-I just don't feel like myself, Austin." You half confessed being sure to leave out the major components of why.

" Okay, I understand. And I absolutely hate that your feeling that way. But I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. Can please you tell me what's wrong. I wanna be here and help you. But you're shutting me out. Please." Austin pleaded looking at you intently, all he was asking was for something..really anything that you could tell him to steer him in the right direction. Because right now he felt lost.

Biting your lip to the point of near bloodshed and twiddling your thumbs you contemplated just spilling your guts and telling him right then and there, but the little voice in your head agonizingly sniping at your thoughts wouldn’t allow it.

If you tell him now it becomes real. And there isn't anything guaranteeing that he'll be happy. I mean you told him about your childhood, why would he want someone damaged like you to raise a child with.

Who would want you as a mother?

Feeling like the walls were caving in you just barely spoke, " Austin. I want to....But I can't.... I just can't."

The words had come out.

And now you had to painfully watch as his face fall at your response. It was like you could see a little embers of hope die behind his eyes, and it broke your heart even more to watch as he sniffled up what would have been a stray tear.

When he responded his voice sounded taut, " You know when we first started dating and we played that game with all the questions. And I asked you to describe our relationship in three words. One of the words YOU specifically picked was honest." Austin reminisced reminding you both of the happier time. He took a second to breath until his glossy eyes met yours in a intense lock, " W-when did that change?"

Once he finished, he then proceed to back away from you softly wrenching the bedroom door open, he casted you one more look before closing it behind him.  Leaving you to shakily lay yourself down on the bed and wrap yourself in the covers to ensue in a good old fashion sob out.

That night for the first time since the two of you had gotten engaged and moved into the loft you'd sleep alone in your king size bed. You heard when the guest bedroom had opened and closed. This only made you cry more.

You felt cold. And not just because the usual warmth Austin gave off holding you in the night wasn't present, but really because it was as if you were standing in the middle of nowhere with no shelter and no place to turn.

You felt alone.

In the wee hours of the morning while your fought yourself in and out of sleep you'd heard the bedroom slowly creep open. With your back to the room you listened as he moved about the bathroom and the closet in what you knew was him getting ready for the interview line up he had today for some of the precursors for award season.

You so badly wanted to turn around and call out for him. Apologize and explain everything a thousand times over. But still it felt like your body physically wouldn't move.

When he came out the final time, you could hear him come to his side of the bed and put something on the duvet. He sighed before turning around and back out the door closing it softly behind him. The alarm chime could be heard soon after and that's when you knew he was gone.

Slowly pulling yourself up to turn around. You hit the toggle for the lights and looked at the folded note that sat on his pillow.

You'd be laying if you said that your heart didn't fall to your ass. Was he leaving you?

Numbly you grabbed the note bracing yourself to take in it's contents.

Then you read it,

Dear Y/N,

I know that I already told you that I'd be out for most of the day today but I also wanted to let you know that when I get home I'll be retiring to the guest room.

I don't exactly know what's going right now but I just feel like I'm putting in so much effort into this relationship as of recent only to receive half of it back. And as a couple who recently got engaged..this worries me. I understand that you have a tough time opening up about certain things bothering you and that is completely understandable. But just what I don't understand is why your pulling back from opening up to me after all we've been through in two years of progression.

With that being said, for right now I think it'll be good if we just take some space. Hence why I'll be staying in the guestroom for a couple of days. Unless you're ready to talk in some type of honest capacity or there is some type of emergency, I ask that you please respect this boundary for the time being.

I love you, Y/N. And I know we can work at this and overcome whatever is going on.

But I badly need you to try.

I'll still be home in time to make dinner as normal and I'll leave you a plate in the microwave.

All my love always, forever, and beyond,

Austin.

[shinwhoohoo]

MEHHHH. I have three things to complain about and they all boil down to styling!!

1. Let’s start of with GC bc it’s his day. Why why why do they insist on this juvenile styling? The white sailor outfit is the worst imo. At least the other white cropped jacket with black trim/fringe and the black version had some type of form even though they still aren’t my favorites. The navy sailor outfit is eh. And the white one underneath (?) is just looking like a frumpy costume from someone’s talent show idk that feels mean and I’m sorry but just, ugh.

I told you before that I realized GC photographs well and can look very model-like in shoots so I had high hopes for his looks today… down the drain that went!

2. Ok so I agree that CNU looks better in these last two events but also—is it just the same white shirt and tie for these two events? Is WM low on funds? Why couldn’t he just wear perhaps that blue shirt from one of the fairly recent vlives?? And ffs, did anyone else see the brown beige khaki suit jacket?? I’m sorry if he owns that (bc sometimes I feel like he does wear baggy things), but ugh. That jacket is just plain ill-fitting on him. Like a suit jacket an old dad wears to some function. I know his build is looking better recently based on other photos/events but that jacket he wore on top of the shirt and tie just makes me so mad—it’s not doing him any favor. Wear it on a non-event CNU!! Someone get him/WM a tailor please!!

3. And I wasn’t going to bring this up but I’m on a roll with their outfits/styling. Tbh I wasn’t a fan of the latest flower fest photos with sandeul bc the florals/greenery look fake af and the whole thing is just too soft/cheesy for my taste and I was thinking, it’s fine it’s just not to my taste but maybe others like it and it’s not the most terrible thing I’ve seen recently done to these three. But now it’s like, they’ve just botched the visual direction for all three and it looks like this more “youthful” direction for all three has been in the works for a while since sandeuls was likely pre-filmed/pre-shot many months ago before he went on duty.

So WM. Wtf. I get that bc of everything that has happened internally and with the world, maybe b1a4 is low on funds and WM doesn’t have the finances either to devote a lot of it to their first group that’s had stuff happen, but this is just so sad to see at the end of the day!! Meanwhile jy mc from the same night is looking well… good for him, looks like he made the right move for his career but now I’m just even more sad for the others! Who do we email is right Britt!! :/

UGH ok so let’s vent together lol 😂 😂

1. Completely agree, the white and black cropped jacket sets were perfectly fine on their own-- the sailor (and honestly, I find the navy school boy fit just as bad as the sailor outfit personally lol) were just so child like, and yeah ok he’s the youngest of the group but at what cost are they going to keep playing that up?? Give us back model Gongchan, for sure. Give me back this Gongchan. He is so so gorgeous, he literally benefits the most with simple, neutral clean fits. Or, if he’s going to go with more of a bold color, bright reds or blues. But keep the fit more sleek. I mean, if I were to say anything positive....? about the sailor boy look is that I do appreciate a good Gongchan leg moment, but trust me it was not worth it to see him dressed like that lmaoo 🥲

2. So when you are saying the beige jacket I’m assuming you are referring to this look and not this.  The former I also completely agree, it literally looked like the exact same tie/shirt/pants that he wore for the Tomato Festival concert lol, and also agree with that jacket thrown on top did absolutely nothing. The latter look though, I did like. Simple, clean, his hair was actually styled much better than we’ve been seeing it (as in-- actually OFF his forehead!!! yay!!!) so I’m not mad at that look, at least lol. 

3. Ok so here’s the thing: again, I do ultimately agree with what you’re saying. The flower setting does look pretty cheap, and I’m also not one to go for that whole youthful flower-boy vibe (especially when we are talking about men who are between 29-31 years old 😩) but one thing I will say, and granted this is my opinion lol, but I do think of the three, Sandeul does pull off the ‘youthful’ look the best. That’s not to say I prefer it at all-- it’s in fact a terrific day the few times we do see Sandeul styled more maturely, with his glorious eyebrows free from hiding underneath the fluffy boy hair. But unlike what we’ve been seeing recently with CNU (and even Gongchan), WM always styled Sandeul like a 12 year old lol. Like ok that’s a slight exaggeration but really not by much. 

I really don’t know what’s going on!!! It has been frustrating, especially since their stage outfits for Origine were so nice-- has it been the acquisition? And new people now being involved in their artistic direction? Are they really just trying to appeal that badly to a younger audience? Idk, but Jinyoung has been looking great, and honestly he’s been looking really good for a while lol (since he’s come back from his public service, honestly... 👀 which I even ranted about a few weeks ago ..whew)

[mlmxreader]

HIYA!! Sorry once again for the absence! I feel so incredibly bad but I'm like 1 week out of uni starting and I've been running around trying to make sure everything's been in order 🙃🙃. I promise I will be getting to the Eames and I think it was Bob (?) fics you posted as soon as possible (thank you again, absolute gem you are). And please don't strain yourself! Even if it takes you 1 year for the request or if you don't write them, it's all good! Take care of yourself first 🖤.

About your baby turning 2 years old... I KNOW!! OMG, my eldest pup is turning 7 at the end of the month and I'm like "where the hell did the time go!! Stay a baby, please!!" 😭😭.

Okay now onto the onslaught of questions (please let me know if you'd prefer me to send these in separate asks in the future, lmao):

1. whats your favorite thing to rant/ramble about?

5. knit or crochet?

6. do you tend to have "favorite things"? list some if so (foods, colors, shows, etc)

8. how does it make you feel when it rains?

15. who do you want to hug right now?

16. whats something you really can't understand or conceptualize?

18. whats something you always notice about a person?

21. whats a random piece of advice you want to give?

28. what's one thing on your bucket list?

29. do you prefer playing video games or watch someone else play them?

30. what makes you feel safe?

31. do you pop your joints? (Please, for the love of all things, tell me you don't crack your knuckles 👁👁)

32. what 'childish' habits do you hold on to?

43. whats something positive that changed your life?

44. how do you feel about marriage?

46. something that made you smile recently

48. whats a talent that you have?

50. list some things you are grateful for

Take care, hon, be safe, and enjoy the movies!! Til the next one (hopefully sooner now that life is chilling out a bit, but who knows 🤷🏽).

🖤🖤🖤

🐍anon

hi!!!! my beloved snake anon!!!! that's absolutely no worries, you shouldn't feel bad AT ALL!! I'm pretty sure it was Eames and Bob, yeah, although don't ask me for certain bc I'm terrible at keeping track of things 💀💀 thank you for being so patient, though - it's only taken me a while bc my mental health hasn't exactly been the best at the moment, especially w the extra diagnosis that I got it's been though tbh. but I WANT to write, and that's the problem 😭 heart wants what it wants and the brain goes "nah lmfao get fucked ya cunt".

Red Baron is an adult now and it genuinely feels like only yesterday when he wasn't much bigger than my Xbox controller 😭 he used to be so LITTLE and now he's a proper ball python like 😭😭 SINCE WHEN DID HE GROW UP??? WHO ALLOWED THIS??? he was so teeny tiny, a literal baby, like, he used to fit in the pocket of my cargo trousers and now he can hardly fit in them 😭😭 he's so big, now, it's like he's just suddenly gone POOF! BIG BOY! although I always knew he was going to be on the larger side bc ever since I got him he's been bigger and heavier than the average male ball python for his age BUT I STILL DON'T LIKE IT 😭

OKAY! LET'S GO!

1. WORLD WAR ONE!! and politics.

5. knitted bc my gran makes all my socks by knitting.

6. yeah! my favourite types of food tends to lie w curries, my favourite colours are usually grey (the no.1), as well as brown, black and green, my favourite shows include Downton Abbey and The Boys, my favourite films are all horror films (Cannibal Holocaust my beloved)!

8. I like to stare at puddles and watch the ripples ngl. but if it's been a hot day and suddenly there's a cool rain, ooooh that shit hits the fuckin SPOT every time. itches my brain like buggery. i love it.

15. no one. I don't enjoy physical affection fhfkskfkskg

16. it's something that I've said a lot, but like, this whole trend of filming people in public; like, other than being outright malicious (even if you're doing it to be "kind" or to show "cute" things), like... why the fuck is your first instinct to film people??? not to mention how fucking ableist it is when you consider that a large majority of these videos revolve around people who have some sort of mental health episode in the moment - such as that "that motherfucker is not real" lady on the plane. like, where is your compassion for your fellow man? why are you filming people to mock them, instead of offering a kind and gentle helping hand? like, the lady on the plane was CLEARLY upset and in distress - why did they film her instead of trying to help her?

it's so fucking weird, and dangerous, and it's something that I genuinely fear, like, I don't wanna be filmed in public minding my own business only for some fuckin cunt to be like "lol he thinks he's the main character 🙄" or fuckin "check out this fuckin crazy psycho talking to himself!!" like... idk, maybe I'm out of touch w the kids or whatever but don't fuckin film people in public. I can't wrap my head around why you'd ever do such a thing outside of wanting to be a malicious little freak.

18. how they treat people who are beneath them. be it homeless people, waiters, children, etc. it's something I always pick up on, especially if it's unkind/apathetic/rude/etc.

21. unionise. wherever you're working, unionise. unions won't solve EVERYTHING, but all the same, they are there to protect your rights as a worker. unionise. and talk about pay w your colleagues.

28. I don't really have one, but one thing I'd like to do before I die is go to London and take a piss on Thatcher's grave.

29. I like to play them myself mostly bc I can't fuckin STAND commentary on video games and I also hate youtube.

30. being on my own tbh. when Brian was around, I could go for miles and miles and miles walking and I'd ALWAYS feel safe. but I go walking w anyone else and I still get paranoid.

31. YEP!!! I can crack my knuckles by flexing them, same w my jaw and my left ankle and I do so quite a lot tbf - there's no studies to suggest that the old wives tale that it causes arthritis has any basis, and it's not been proven that there's any negative side effects of doing it either.

32. I don't have any 💀💀

43. tattoos. all 12 of em.

44. I'm aromantic, so I could NEVER see myself getting married tbh bc I don't think there'd be any point in it - I don't believe in monogamy, I don't want to settle down w one person. HOWEVER, if it meant that I could immigrate somewhere or I could fiddle my taxes? I'd absolutely be down to marry a friend platonically.

46. one of the cats at work who hisses and swipes at EVERYONE actually ran up to me and started purring when I scratched his chin and his ears.

48. I can climb trees well enough that I can position myself and hide in them, I can dig VERY GOOD WW1-style trenches, and I am AMAZING at handling and restraining snakes :)

50. snakes. Red Bull. cigarettes. tobacco. the cinema having saver seats for £5 so I got to sit in the same seat every single time for Oppenheimer.

we shall speak soon 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[percontaion-points]

TOWB chapters 29-32

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 29

Waves of pain rolled through Ranka’s stomach and pulsed down her temple where the Murknen had struck her. Her mouth filled with blood—she’d bitten her tongue. 

“Please,” Foldrey whispered. The guard was on his knees, his sword gleaming uselessly several feet away. “Please, just let them go. They’re children—” 

The Murknen made a low, guttural noise. Her words emerged strangled, as though speaking required a terrible effort. “So were we.” 

Ranka’s blood-magic rose—and this time she welcomed it.

[Image description: A screenshot of Severus Snape from Harry Potter, as played by Alan Rickman. He is a 40-something white man with long, black hair. It is captioned with “How Convenient”. End description]

“Run,” he whispered. And then he collapsed.

Chapter 29 summary: Ranka comes to in time to see Foldrey losing his fight against both of the plague witches. (Where the hell Percy is, I don’t fucking know.) She lets her blood magic take hold of her, but it doesn’t exactly do it quickly. We waste nearly 2 pages before she straight up murders both witches. But not before Foldrey takes a knife to the belly. 

Chapter 30

If the Hands found them now, they’d be easy prey. Galen and Aramis Sunra would be wiped from this world, and she along with them, with nothing but the cobblestones as witness to what had happened here. 

We’re 30 chapters and 160+ pages in, and this book has yet to tell us why the deaths of Galen, Aramis, and Ranka would be a bad thing. They’ve brought literally nothing but misery to every single person around them. 

“Poison,” she whispered. And then she collapsed at his feet.

Chapter 30 summary: Ranka and Foldrey were badly hurt. Except we apparently don’t give a shit about Foldrey. Ranka’s only focus is on the wonder twins, and getting them to safety before anybody finds them. 

And find them they do. 

In a stroke of what I can only describe as “author interference”, Ranka, Galen, and Aramis manage to not only get away, but to get to the free clinic Aramis works at without anybody else attacking them. (Yeah, if you think about it for more than a millisecond, the entire thing falls apart. So… literally don’t do that.)

Chapter 31

Ranka told Aramis she wasn’t violent because she loved it, but because she was good at it…

Except that she’s not even good at it. There’ve been three fights that mattered in this book: in the morgue, protecting Galen from the sick Yeva, and the fight a few chapters ago. 2/3rds of those fights were failures, where Ranka barely managed to survive. And she sure as fuck didn’t actually protect anybody. 

And for the first time since Ranka had entered Isodal, she didn’t know who to choose.

Chapter 31 summary: Ranka wakes up in the clinic, and watches as the healer takes care of them. She thinks briefly about Foldrey, and knows that if he had survived, the Hands would capture and torture him; he wouldn’t be alive for much longer. It’s literally the only moment of grief that we have seen Ranka having IN 31 FUCKING CHAPTERS. She didn’t care half as much about goddamned Yeva as she did Foldrey. 

Anyway, she randomly starts to info dump on Aramis about her own background. I don’t have any explanation for what’s going on anymore. (If I’m being honest, I’m not sure that the author cares about her own story.)

Chapter 32

And finally, after seven months of drought, the skies opened up over Isodal and poured.

Chapter 32 summary: After a few days, the four of them are released from the infirmary. Ranka tries to ask the other guards about Foldrey, but all they have to say is that they’re “still searching”. 

Ranka finds Galen brooding on a cliff overlooking the sea. She then basically goads him into figuring out how to unlock all of his magical abilities, and not simply blasting strong gusts of wind at everything. It finally starts to rain for the first time in 7 months. 

[modkatisbacc]

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More Fair Maidens AU!

Pyrrha: So, we are in a mutual agreement!

Penny: Oh, of course!

Jaune, walking into the room: Pyrrha, what were you and Penny talking about in here?

Pyrrha, trying to cover a giggle: Oh you know, just girly things.

Penny, raising her voice excitedly: Like murder!

50 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#4

“And you cheated your way into Beacon!” Love that line, gotta be one of my favorite lines now. Not because of its direct context, though.

We learn a few things about this line:

1: The rest of team JNPR were told about Jaune cheating to get into Beacon (They were chill with it tho,, means he’s just as chaotic as the rest of his team)

2: While Yang seemed surprised at Rens outburst, she wasn’t at the information, meaning team RWBY was also told at some point (They r bestie teams that is all)

3: The hidden context behind this,, Ren doesn’t think Jaune is terrible or anything obviously,, but something tells me JNR never sat down and even TALKED about Pyrrhas death. They never dealt with it, and just pushed past it. All Three of them pause for a moment, Jaune doesn’t even argue back, BECAUSE GUESS WHO THE FIRST PERSON WAS THAT KNEW HE CHEATED HIS WAY INTO BEACON?

If he would have said anything else on the subject they would’ve just shut down.

I’ve been THINKING of this for MONTHS, actually. They’re SCARED, Ren has so far gone along with everything just FINE but he’s literally the “We need an adult” meme at that point.

They should be in CLASS, not saving the literal world from an immortal Grimm witch!!!

Jaune just deflates afterwards, and Yang gets angry, it’s just,,, TALK.

51 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

#3

I don’t think they’re getting rid of Pixal. They are deliberately keeping her out of the trailers for a REASON. And that’s because she has this EPIC COOL SIDE PLOT ALL FOR HERSELF. BOOM PROBLEM SOLVED. I CRACKED THE CASE.

53 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

#2

That moment in season 3 when Garmadon and Lloyd come across a nest with some kinda bird baby inside and Lloyd picks it up and Garmadon said “It’s going to know someone has touched its young”

And the when Lloyd asks who IT is, he says “Daddy” and yes people in the comments were laughing bc of how he said it, but WHO other than Garmadon would know that feeling more than anyone else in the show? When he was trying to turn Ninjago into his own image, and when the serpentine suggested getting rid of Lloyd he snapped at them and threw them off the ship/locked them up. The only reason the venom didn’t take him over entirely was because the love for his son was THAT strong. It took Ninjgos first and greatest evil to truly corrupt him.

LISTEN I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT HIM AND THE BIRD

99 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

In the intro of TLOVM, there’s this snowy place they’re apparently going to in the future, and I am super excited to see whatever it is because the lighting and just how the background looks for it?? BEAUTIFUL?? It’ll probably be a ways off, with them being arrested and all.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, Is the King still under control? How are they gonna Roll themselves outta this mess? (See what I did there?)

Also I love that when the guards get there, after already shooting the driver, Percy just stands there getting surrounded by guards, and honestly its a cool shot but he is gonna have some EXPLAINING to do to EVERYONE. Considering the others look mighty surprised by what’s happening, he hasn’t done THIS before. Also did I mention I really like his plague Doctor mask? Super cool.

116 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lemongrass-and-buttercups]

it’s been 2 months!!

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon 

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children… 

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still! 

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip! 

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan 

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment. 

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent. 

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus 

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub 

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating... 

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident… 

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor 

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Five)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)

Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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May

Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.

1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.

By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.

The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.

Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.

Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.

Jimin 6:04pm

Please let me in?

Jimin 6:05pm

Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.

Jimin 6:05pm

Call me sometime ok? Love you

Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.

June

Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.

He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.

“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.

You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.

It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.

Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.

By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.

He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.

July

Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…

“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.

You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.

“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.

“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”

“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.

“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”

“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”

You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.

“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”

“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—”

“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.

“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”

“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.

“Trina!”

“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.

“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”

Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.

“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.

Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.

“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.

“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.

“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”

“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”

You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.

“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!

“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.

“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.

“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.

“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.

“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.

You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.

“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.

This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.

The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.

The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.

“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.

“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.

“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”

“A little?” he teases.

Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.

“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.

“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.

The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.

“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.

“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.

You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.

He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!

“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”

“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.

“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.

“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.

The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.

“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.

“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”

“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.

“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.

Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.

Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.

Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…

You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!

You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.

“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.

“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”

“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.

Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.

“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.

“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.

“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.

Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”

Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.

“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.

Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???

You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.

“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.

“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.

They know each other?

“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.

“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.

“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.

“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.

You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.

Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.

“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.

Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.

“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.

“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.

Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.

“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”

“We—”

“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.

“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.

The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.

“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.

“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.

“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.

The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.

“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.

Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.

He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.

The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.

You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.

“Hi guys!”

Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.

“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.

“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”

“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”

HOME?

“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?

“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?

“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.

“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”

“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.

“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.

“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.

“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.

“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”

You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.

“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.

“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”

Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.

“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”

You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.

“Nice to meet you too…”

Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.

“I said, let me drive you home.”

“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”

“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.

“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”

“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”

“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”

You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.

“What the hell Jeon?”

“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.

“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.

He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.

“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.

“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”

“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.

“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.

You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.

“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.

“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”

“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”

“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”

“You mean so much to me y/n…”

“Don’t.”

Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you sputter out.

He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”

“Why?”

“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”

“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.

“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.

Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.

“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.

“About what?”

“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.

“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”

“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”

“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.

“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”

“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”

Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.

“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”

“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.

“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”

“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.

“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.

Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.

“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.

Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.

“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?

“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.

“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”

“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.

You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!

“Jungkook—”

“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.

“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”

“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”

You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.

“Complicated how?” you gulp.

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.

“Are you serious, Jungkook?”

“We fuck y/n.”

“But it’s more than that right?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.

You look at him bewildered.

“Do you like her? Love her?”

You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?

“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”

You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.

“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”

You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.

“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.

“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.

“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”

“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.

“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.

“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”

You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.

“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?

“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.

“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?

“Wait—”

“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.

“Okay.”

Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.

Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.

He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.

Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….

When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.

A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.

Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.

“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.

~~~~

“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”

“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.

“Then what happened?” she pries further.

“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.

“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”

“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”

“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”

Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”

Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.

“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.

“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”

“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.

You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?

“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”

~~~~

“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.

“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”

“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.

The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.

“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”

“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.

“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.

“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.

“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”

“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.

“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”

“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”

All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”

You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.

“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.

“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.

You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.

“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.

“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.

“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.

“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”

You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”

“That’s the spirit.”

You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.

“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”

“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.

“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.

“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”

You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.

“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.

The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”

“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.

“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”

You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.

“Uh…yeah.”

“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.

“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”

~~~~~

A few weeks later

The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.

“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.

Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?

You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.

You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.

“You’re—you’re here?”

“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.

A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.

“Ummm…yes?”

You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.

“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.

“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”

Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!

“Or not?” you say awkwardly.

You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.

“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.

“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.

“Babe—”

“Jimin!”

The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.

“Oh.” You both say at the same time.

You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.

“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.

“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.

“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.

Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.

“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.

Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.

“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.

“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.

“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”

“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.

Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’

“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.

“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.

“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.

“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.

“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.

“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.

The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.

“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”

“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”

“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”

Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.

“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”

“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”

Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.

“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.

“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.

“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.

“Well…”

“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”

“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.

“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.

“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!

“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”

Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.

“So—”

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.

“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”

Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.

“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.

“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.

Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.

“I’m serious…” he says.

Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.

A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”

Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.

You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.

“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”

“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.

“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.

“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.

“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.

“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”

“Precisely.”

You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.

“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”

“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.

Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.

“Here, stand up.”

Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.

Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.

You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.

“Show me already.” You whisper.

“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.

Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.

“Just follow me.”

“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.

He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.

You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.

Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.

Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.

Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.

“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.

“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.

You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.

You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.

But so wrong.

“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.

Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”

“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”

Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?

Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.

“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.

“But when?” he asks softly.

Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?

“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.

“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”

You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.

“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.

“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.

“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”

Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.

“You still love me?”

“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”

Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”

The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…

“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.

“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”

“You are on—”

“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”

You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a group hang out first…”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”

You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.

“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.

“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”

“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.

“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?

Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.

“C’mere.”

You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.

His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.

“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.

“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”

“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.

“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”

“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.

“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”

“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.

Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?

You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”

“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.

“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.

Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,

“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”

[autisticandroids]

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

[giotanner]

Art Theft and Bullying in The Old Guard Fandom

Hey TOG fandom! Do you know that stealing art is a crime? Do you have a problem with bullying (“because that poc muslim artist deserves!11!” based on a random tumblr post) within Discord servers? You do?... then read on.

Please grab some cookies and tea (and get comfortable!) and read on. This is a SERIOUS matter that I, as an outsider, was able to see WITHOUT being influenced by anyone else. I am not friends with any of the people involved here, although after these events I have empathy towards them.

I’m telling you this so you won’t be able to say to me "you are allied with/you are influenced by"... That is not the case. I have facts and evidence, so please read! I will be talking about ART THEFT, BASHING, REPOSTING, AND DISGUSTING BULLYING BEHAVIOUR towards a person who is not even in the server. As a fellow fanartist I feel so bad because  “this artist deserves it” in their mind. 

(Now: apparently there is a part of the beautiful The Old Guard fandom that thinks: the characters and people’s headcanons are more important rather than an actual person's well-being, and with every new illustration by the artist, they are badly spoken of. Because… ugh, why not?)

I talked about facts, so here’s one:

If you joined this server (there are a couple servers with this name, please don't get mad at the wrong one - note the icon!)  The first thing you know is: karanoidandroid is a racist and a homophobe… in their opinion. People and also these mods think this because of some posts on tumblr by white people. AH.

Why? Hearsay, bimbi belli. If you go to this artist's page you won't find a single racist thing (the artist is literally a POC who is brown and a Muslim. How? - you may say- What? Ah yes, she must be under "white influence! 11 !! bad POC !!" and who says that? Ah right, a white person. Or another POC with a different experience.  wtf we have so many experiences, how can you say ‘you’re racist’ to a POC about this? Just because this artist’s preference is a different sex position, and no one is trying to force you to like it, eh!)

And from here on out... hatred. Terrible and personal hatred that has spread like wildfire. EVERYWHERE. Even people who know nothing about this fandom know that this artist is "racist and homophobic". Only.Because.Of.Hearsay.

So what did this artist do, you ask? She created a safe place on discord, away from tumblr. For people who like top!Joe. Don’t you like it? GOOD FOR YOU. That’s fantastic. We should as a fandom respect everyone's preference. This server was simply made so people could get away from tumblr and the drama and bullying. That’s it.

But did they leave this artist alone? No. The gossip had infected this fandom by now. It is now a "fact": this artist is x and y, you know. Because a couple people spread that, knowing nothing about the artist other than she was making a server they didn’t like.

Because THEY decided it. Because this artist decided not to fight and leave and you weren't satisfied with that.

Let’s BULLY a Muslim POC because we disagree with their views IN FANDOM! Because someone’s views on a CHARACTER are more important than an actual person, right? (According to sources who wished to remain anon, I know for sure the mod is white. A white mod is bullying and stealing the art of a brown Muslim woman because their views on FANDOM are different)

How? 

READ these screenshots. They were posted a couple days ago. EVERY FUCKIN’ TIME this artist posted an art… they bully her. (So yeah, it’s NOT the first time)

No source, no link, no name. It was posted by a Mod (in blue) and the point is: a rule of this group is “don’t steal art/don’t put art without source” BUT HEY- WE’RE MODS and this artist deserves it!11!!1!)   

This poc muslim artist didn’t insist on “top!joe only”. It’s just her preference, you know? I don’t care about people’s preferences. If you want to read more about how racial issues have somehow gotten involved in sexual position preferences, check out this post by +lgbtq poc with a degree in Medieval Islamic History x (note: his blog is gone (bullying again!) so the link is to a reblog)

“Where is the source?’ a person asks. They don’t want to put the source and THEY’RE THE MODS, they made that the R U L E.

But you already know, again only by hearsay: “the artist is homophobic and top!joe is full of bullshit”. (A mantra - but they’re NOT IN THE SERVER to know. It’s an assumption)  What bullshit? I dunno. I’ve been on tumblr for the past few months and I read everything, and what I read is just a preference, not racism. But they went to the artist saying “you can’t”. Just because they have a different opinion. A ‘woke opinion’ against a POC Muslim artist. Well.

You don’t like her preference? Again: BRAVO. Amen, that’s okay. But it’s not “end of story kiss kiss”.

If you steal and you put a drawing without source… it’s not a joke anymore, do you know this mods? Even if you don’t like the artist or agree with all of her opinions, THEFT IS THEFT. There’s no excuse for it, especially if their excuse is saying the artist ‘deserves’ it.

Discord community Guidelines:

#1 Do not organize, participate in, or encourage harassment of others.

#17 You may not share content that violates anyone's intellectual property or other rights. 

 Anyway the artist deserves their art to be stolen ONLY BECAUSE OF HEARSAY everyone knows that she is..? (chorus: racist and homophobic!) And this was decided by white people and is now being used to bully a POC Muslim.

BRAVI! Have a biscuit!

You’re bashing and bashing and bashing and bashing for MONTHS, so now you don’t know the truth, but only this…  because /this/ it’s common knowledge.

Stealing art and trying to say that's okay because they’ve decided that someone they don't know is racist doesn't change the fact they stole is disgusting. Then saying it’s just a joke? wow, the audacity. 

The point of all this is clear: Since I hate this person/I have this immeasurable hatred towards this artist from posts that other people have made about her THEN I am a mod so I can do it, I am allowed to steal her art, bash the artist and mock her in other comments and every time this person just… exists.

THESE ARE THE FACTS. I have so many screenshots. Thanks to some people I know within the discord. This is only ONE day. It has happened before. 

Why “that artist and linking her blog would break multiple server rules and make numerous people uncomfortable?” Ah, yes, c’mon you know… I know you know! (Chorus: Because the artist is racist and homophobic… even though they’ve never spoken to her, and are literally bullying a POC Muslim and refusing to source art)

Well, yeah, Without proof. Just “common knowledge and the same old “by hearsay” on tumblr. By ‘woke’ people and then it was shared by people like me or you if you don’t know the story.

And how did this story end? They stole the drawing. They put the stolen illustration in a group of TWO HUNDRED and SEVENTY PEOPLE and said  “oops, i did it again” and they refuse to link the source. It’s stealing. And it’s serious. It’s terrible because they are bashing this artist all the time. 

TO REITERATE

1.They STOLE an artist’s work and laughed about it, which is bullying and against their own rules. This has happened more than once with this artist. 

2. When they were called out, they bullied the person calling them out.

3. When they didn’t like that they were called out, THE PEOPLE (yellow and green) CALLING THEM OUT WERE KICKED OUT OF THE SERVER, despite art theft and bullying being against the server rules. Again, the rules that they made. 

Regardless of what you think of the artist, stealing art sets a dangerous precedent for future fandoms. If someone doesn’t like your opinion does that mean they can steal YOUR art/writing/creations? Because if you think it’s okay for this person’s art to be stolen because you don’t agree with them, that’s basically what you’re saying.  

They were cruel. And TOG doesn’t deserve this. I love this movie so much. I love this fandom. I love to make fanarts of Joe and Nicky. Joe is so sweet, full of love, a true warrior and Nicky isn’t an Italian dramaqueen, he isn’t naive, he is kind and a bravo sniper. Two imperfect men, but perfect for each other. A Muslim and a Christian, a white and a brown man. Together. Not stereotyped. Wow, thanks at least for that 2020.

and I hope we can do better, in future. 

[lochnessies]

ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad). 

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace. 

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system. 

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society. 

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious. 

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic. 

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place. 

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

[celestialrry]

call me baby

psa: this might have a part 2 if anyone wants it, ik its a shitty ending lol but I wouldn’t know what to write after this. also I have another angst piece in the works but its literally taking so long to write 😖

1.8k

summary: Being hopelessly in love with your friend isn’t ideal, especially when Harry doesn’t even seem to see you as more than a therapist. 

warnings: angst, pining, cursing

You looked over at your phone, now vibrating against your bedside table, lit up with his contact photo, a picture of him sticking his tongue out. “Hi.” You picked it up, wrapping your free arm around your torso, sitting up a bit straighter out of instinct even though he couldn't see you.

“Hey, love. Can I get some advice?” He asked through the phone, his voice a bit gravely and deep as always. You silently sighed, biting your lip in hesitation. Everytime you’d get a call from him, he would either rant about his current partner, get advice about them, or just want you to be there when he needed someone to talk to.

Of course you would always be there for him, regardless of time, space, and anyone he gave his heart to. He was Harry Styles for god's sake, your friend since forever, the man who treated everyone like they were the best thing in his life, most of the time at least. He lit up any room he was in and when you’d see him it would always be fulfilling, even if the two of you sat in silence in a room of just four walls.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked after a brief moment of silence. It was currently 4 in the morning in your single room flat in London and you didn’t think Harry knew that, but you weren't going to tell him.

“It’s just, Ana’s has been so clingy lately and we’ve only been together officially for 3 weeks. It’s making me want to end things.” Harry admitted into the phone. You almost rolled your eyes at his words. Not once has he called you to ask about you in months, but that's just how things were. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

“If you aren’t happy with her, end it,” You spoke up after a while, unsure if you were giving him the advice because you were desperate to be with him or it was genuinely what he should do.   “There’s no point in being with her if you’re considering ending it over her being clingy.”

You heard him sigh into the phone before speaking up. “Yeah, we’ll see, thanks,” He said your name. You smiled a bit at that. It was crazy how he could make you feel so special by just the tone of his voice, absurd, really,

“ ‘Course. So-” Before you could say anything else you heard the beep of the phone being hung up. You took a deep breath, trying to think of how Harry and you were before everything changed.

2 years ago

“I can’t believe you’re officially moving to L.A.” You said as you stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him pack up his last few clothes.

“Me neither.” He simply said.

Before you could stop it, you felt a salty tear roll down you cheek. As you wiped it away, he turned around, his face dropping all previous joy, concern flooding his features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He used the nickname he gave you 11 years ago when we were 10. It was crazy how the two of you had known each other so long, and now you were both 21, and he would be living in the city of angels.

“Just gonna miss seeing you as often as I usually do is all.” You laughed, the tears flowing more freely now. One Direction had just gone on hiatus and after spending some time at home, Harry decided to switch it up a bit. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just switch it up by not wearing skinny jeans everyday, but it seemed he wanted something bigger than that.

He pouted and walked over to you, giving me a hug before mumbling in your ear, “I’ll call you everyday. Promise.”

Promises were made to be broken, it seemed. He only calls you when he needs a hand, and only answers if he’s alone. You wish you found it more frustrating than painful, maybe that way it would be easier to move on, but you have yet to do so. You’ve asked yourself why you were still silently pining over him, with no answer in sight.

The last time you saw Harry in person was almost a year ago, when he came back to visit his family. Up until that trip he called you everyday, or close too, wanting to know about you day or he just “wanted to hear your voice”. Then when we were together it was like no time had passed while he was away.

1 year ago

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, lightly punching his bicep.

He just laughed in return, rubbing his arm acting like you had actually hurt him.

“I feel like you just got back and now you’re leaving again,” you said after a bit, knowing he was leaving the next morning. “Plus,” you added, gently playing with his hair. “I’m gonna miss your hair, it’s so fun to braid.”

He looked over at you as your hand fell to rest on his shoulder, running your fingers through his curls. “I know, but I’ll come back soon. I’ll try not to cut my hair for you, don’t worry.” He smiled at you, leaning over and pulling you into a hug.

You just returned his grin and hug, and stuck your fingers through the ringlets, having way too much fun with his hair. You noticed he was looking at you the entire time you were messing with his hair, but you convinced yourself it was because he had nowhere else to look.

Eventually, you were so close to him you could see freckles you never had before. Your breath hitched, not knowing if you should backup or not, your hand still resting on his shoulder in his curls. Then all of a sudden he was far away again, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Your heart ached with the love you had for Harry, and it seemed nothing could cure it except him and when you woke up the next morning and instinctively checked your phone, you frowned as you noticed no notifications from the one person you truly wanted to hear from.

You weren’t sure when your hurt extended from the pain of practically losing a friend to the pain of not being able to be with someone you love. You weren’t sure when you started seeing his lips as kissable and not something to put lipstick on for fun. You weren’t sure when you started looking at his hands as something to hold and not as a blocker for your playful punches.

You weren’t sure when you started stealing glances more than you usually did or avoiding eye contact because it made you nervous. You weren’t sure when your stomach was no longer empty and then filled with butterflies. You weren’t sure when he stopped calling just to talk, or when he stopped picking up. All you were sure of was that you were hopelessly in love with someone who could never feel the same.

                                                            ✧˖*°࿐

He called a few more times about the same girl, Ana. You had spoken to your friend about it, and you were slowly getting over him. Each time you were getting cut off and hung up on, and it took a really long time for you to know you deserved better. He hadn’t called you since he attempted once and you didn’t answer. It went on for a few months, he would call you almost everyday, alongside texts like “Hello?”, “Pick up, please?”, and the text that came last before you blocked him, “Are you okay?”. He didn’t deserve to know, and sure maybe you shouldn’t have just cut off all contact, but there was no other way to get over him.

A month after you blocked him, and you were no longer sulking when you checked your phone and no longer crying to sleep. You were becoming happy thanks to your self control, and finally learning that just because Harry didn’t love you, didn;t mean you shouldn’t love yourself.

You were sitting on your couch when there was a knock at your door. You looked up from the book in your lapa and stood up, scurrying to the door, not wanting the person at the other side to be waiting.

You swung it open, met with the last face you expected to see. He looked concerned almost, and almost immediately you were wrapping in his arms, after over a year he was holding you once more. Except this time you didn’t want it. You pushed him off of you and stepped back. “What are you doing here Harry?” You asked, a scowl on your face.

“I-y’wouldn’t answer me and then nothing went through, god, I was so worried, love-”

“No,” You shook your head. “Don’t call me that, you can’t just come here after being an asshole to me for over a year. You are not allowed to be worried about me, not when you haven’t bothered to ask how I am after all this time.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, you were always so calm, you never had yelled at him before. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” You pursed your lips.

“Just let me explain,” He said, hesitating like he was trying to find an answer to this, but you knew whatever he told you, nothing would change. “I-when we saw each other last, we almost kissed, or at least I almost kissed you, I love you, I was so scared that y’wouldn’t feel the same, and I guess I got caught up in trying to make you jealous. Please, m’so sorry.”

He took a step towards you and you took two steps back. There was no way he felt the same as you did- you had. And even if he did, you always knew he was shit at handling feelings, but there was no excuse.

“No, you can’t do that, say that. I don’t care if you mean it or not,” You began, tearing up. “That-thats’s so fucking terrible to do to someone, especially if you love them. I’m tired Harry, I’m done with you, I’ve been done with you for months.”

“What?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you.

“Please leave.”

Your heart broke at your own words, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not now, and maybe not ever.

“Please I-”

“I said leave, Harry.”

You could see his watery eyes as he opened his mouth to protest once more, but then closed it. There was nothing he could say. Not anymore. He was always leaving, but this time, for the first time, you wanted him to.

[wondernimbus]

stressful times — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

request #1: Can I request soft Fred Weasley comforting his girlfriend when she’s not feeling well/on her period and falling behind in classes/ homework? Pretty please 🥺

request #2: Can you write a Fred x reader where the reader is on her period while at Hogwarts during a time when a lot of tests are happening and she needs to be studying but isn’t and Fred notices cause usually she’s like Hermione and always does homework/studies and he figures out why she isn’t and helps her feel better? 

a/n: THIS IS WAY OVERDUE IM SORRY but i decided to combine these 2 reqs bc they were pretty similar !! 

[Y/N] is stressed.

School has never been a piece of cake for anyone—not even for Hermione Granger, who is one of the brightest people at Hogwarts, and certainly not for her, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Chasers, and on top of that, a prefect currently studying for her N.E.W.Ts.

Wood expects her to practice out by the Quidditch pitch every free period in preparation for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. This goes for every member of the team—even the ones who, like [Y/N], are studying for the so-called "big exams". And despite [Y/N] wanting to do well in her tests, she also doesn't want to lose her position in the Quidditch team—so she goes to the practice sessions, anyway, even if it's at the cost of her sleep.

That—coupled with her prefect duties and schoolwork—is wearing her out. So far she has managed to miraculously plow through, but when that time of the month comes and she can barely even bring herself to get out of bed, [Y/N] begins to wonder whether giving up would be a better option.

She could do it. Drop everything and lay in bed all day for the next week or so with a bag of chocolates at her side and pillows cushioning her entire body.

She could—technically, anything in the world is possible—but she shouldn’t, because she has obligations. Prefect tasks; patrolling the corridors and making sure no first-years go astray in the Forbidden Forest (it already happened once—she's not going to let it happen again), N.E.W.T. revisions, homework, Quidditch practice, homework, and then even more homework—

The very moment she wakes up and feels the pain in her lower abdomen, she knows she is done for. She only barely drags herself out of bed and trudges to her classes the entire day feeling like pure and utter dung. Her entire body is sore and her entire mood cranky, but that hardly matters because she has homework to do. And classes to go to. And Quidditch practice and patrolling and studying and Merlin-knows-what-else.

The sourness of her mood doesn't go amiss by any of her friends, and certainly not by her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, who automatically just knows when something is out of the ordinary with her. And while her friends decide to leave her alone after noting her less than pleasant mood, Fred does quite the opposite.

Which is, of course, no different from what he does everyday: stick by her side like glue. And while they'd been best friends for a while, it's only been a few months since Fred finally sucked up the courage to ask her out. So naturally Fred has very little experience with, ah, women’s dilemmas.

To put it simply, he doesn't know how to deal with a girl on her bloody (no pun intended) period. For the love of Merlin, he can't even tell.

So he's a little surprised and his feelings are a teeny bit hurt when he nudges her in the middle of Charms class and whispers, "Was that an earthquake? Or did you just rock my world?" only for her to shake her head without even as much as looking at him.

And so Fred's thought process goes like this: he's done something terribly wrong. He doesn't know what, but he must have, and now he has to make up for it—whatever it is.

First, though, he has to figure out what.

—

It's midnight. [Y/N] doesn't know how on earth she managed to get through the entire day without passing out, but she did and now here she is in the nearly empty common room, sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace with several sheets of parchment and open textbooks splayed out before her.

Jotting down History of Magic notes, her face is scrunched up in the utmost concentration. Fred watches her from where he's sitting on the couch, pouting a little.

"Don't you think you should be resting by now?" tries Fred, the concern in his voice audible as his gaze darts from her to her homework.

She doesn't respond. Fred sighs and gets up off the couch to sit down next to her on the ground. But even then, she doesn't look up from her homework, so Fred takes matters into his own hands and reaches out with his hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to tilt her head towards him.

"Not now, Fred.." she mutters, leaning away from him a little to keep writing. His hand hovers in mid-air, fingers now just barely brushing her face as she's moved away. "I have to.. finish this.."

Her tongue is poking out in concentration as she almost feverishly moves her quill over paper. Fred tries not to feel too dejected and lets her be, waiting until she's broken out of her trance enough to grab her attention again. In the meantime, he props his elbows on his knees, the pout on his lips very much evident as he watches her work. He still doesn't know why she's been acting so distant, and no matter how much he tries to mull things over in his brain, he still doesn't know why exactly she's angry at him. Or if she even is angry.

Was his pick-up line really that bad? Could it maybe be because he'd kept trying to play with her hair in potions class the other day? Or is it because of what he did last week, when he’d talked McGonagall’s ear off about how wonderful a girlfriend he had? Maybe Fred should've been a bit more considerate—[Y/N] has always been a teacher's pet, after all, and he knows that the teachers themselves were surprised when they found out that she was dating him, one-half of the devious Weasley twins who had six O.W.L.s combined..

[Y/N]'s hand stills, and for a moment Fred thinks she's finally finished her homework, but her shoulders have bowed a little and her eyes have closed. The effect this image has on Fred is instantaneous: the pout on his lips is replaced quickly by a fond smile as he lets out a quick breath of slightly dubious laughter and moves to gently tap her on the shoulder.

Slowly, slowly, her eyes blink open.

Another tiny laugh. "You fell asleep for a second there, love," says Fred softly, hand moving to touch her hair, and he's so bloody endeared by her it hurts. Voice a mere mumble like he’s afraid of speaking too loud, he says, "Reckon we should turn in for the night, yeah? You and me both."

There's silence as she exhales, leaning into his touch almost unconsciously as her eyes close and her shoulders slump. "I'm really tired," she tells him quietly, nose wrinkling a little as her mouth stretches open in a yawn. (Good grief, Fred's heart aches.) He scoots forward a little into her, gathering her into his lap where she almost automatically curls up, head on his shoulder and her lips just barely grazing the side of his neck.

Fred can't even remember what he'd been agonizing over just moments before. All his fluttering heart cares about at the moment is his sleepy girlfriend, who's shifting a little in his lap to get herself more comfortable, mumbling something inaudible in her half-asleep state. He has to physically suppress himself from throwing his head back and laughing out loud, because something about the situation he's in is making him feel oddly euphoric. He only has to think about if for a few moments before he realizes why: it's because of how adorable she's being. And Fred’s heart might be melting in his chest—should he be concerned?

"I'm gonna carry you up to your dorm, okay?" says Fred, tone just loud enough to make himself heard but quiet and soft enough so as to not jar her awake. He feels her nod a little against his shoulder. Carefully, he gets to his feet, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back the way a groom would carry his bride. (The thought crosses Fred's head very briefly and just like that he's smiling goofily to himself.)

And the moment is romantic and intimate in a quiet, calming way, until Fred makes the big mistake of murmuring, "I'll fix up your homework and bring it to you so you can work on it tomorrow" and [Y/N] quite literally freezes in his arms. Her entire body goes rigid.

"Homework. Oh, crap." Fully awake now, she lifts her head off of his shoulder, looks back at her pile of homework still on the ground, and then, her panicked eyes meeting his, she says, "Oh, no. No. I can't—I've got to get it done now, Fred."

An incredulous sound tumbles past his lips. "I could've sworn you were asleep two seconds ago.”

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds before peeling them open again. Fred notes that the bags under them look even more pronounced up close; something that has him frowning at her. “Put me down, please? I really have to get that essay done."

He huffs, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "What—" [Y/N] yelps, looking up at him with an expression that suggests he’s admitted to strangling a rabbit. "Fred, I said put me down—"

"And let you work yourself to death? No can do, love." Fred looks down at her, lips pressed together in a sorry smile as he shakes his head. He lifts his gaze back away from her as he begins climbing up the steps, trying not to jostle [Y/N] too much in his arms. His tone sing-song, he says, “You need to rest. The essay can wait."

[Y/N] opens her mouth to predictably retaliate, but Fred stops halfway up the staircase and presses a kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off. At first she’s stiff, but it only takes her a few seconds to relax and melt into him.

When Fred pulls away with one last peck to the lips, he smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. “Have I changed your mind with my superior snogging skills?”

Unable to help herself, she lets out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. But even then her gaze lingers on her homework, still on the floor in front of the fireplace—totally not yet finished—

“But I’ve only got a few pages left to go,” she says in one last stroke of adamancy.

”And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay up all night without getting enough sleep?” They’ve reached the top of the staircase now, and Fred is fumbling with the doorknob of her dorm room, trying to open it with one hand without having to set her down.

“But Freddy.”

Fred pauses trying to open the door, lips unconsciously twitching up into an incredulous grin as he raises his eyebrows at her. Of course she had to use his one big weakness against him—he loves when she calls him Freddy. Or perhaps love is a severe understatement, because he always goes all putty in her hands whenever she sings it into his ear or shouts it at him from all the way across the hallways.

But Fred isn’t having it, not this time. “But [Y/N],” he mimics her tone, still grinning, and the voice in his heart tells him to peck her lips again, so he does. “I'm telling you, love, you need sleep. And besides, we’re already here—once I get this door open—aha!”

The door clicks open and reveals behind it the dark seventh year girls’ dorm room. Fred peers inside, unsure as he steps a single hesitant foot through the door, and then he withdraws back into the landing. “Suppose I'll have to drop you off here,” tuts Fred. “Can’t really barge into an all-girls dorm room in the middle of the night—even when I’m with you. Mum would have my head.” Gingerly, he sets her down on the ground, making sure she’s standing up completely before he takes his hands away. Grinning, he holds his palm out towards her and says, “That’ll be twenty galleons.”

”I didn’t even ask for—“

“A kiss, then.”

And her incomplete homework is still lingering in her head, bothering her—she really does need to have that done at least before breakfast tomorrow—but Fred is standing in front of her with the same playful smile that [Y/N] has never learned to resist so she sighs and stands on her tip-toes, places her hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Fred is smiling—she can feel it against her lips. Eventually she starts smiling too, unable to help herself. When she pulls away, Fred cups her cheeks in his hand and pecks her forehead—and then her nose, and her cheeks, and her eyelids, and then she’s laughing, saying, “What are you doing?”

Fred lands another kiss to the tip of her nose, then drops his hands back to his sides. “You look far too lovely for someone in dire need of sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn tears its way out of her throat. Fred has to restrain himself from doubling over and sobbing because Merlin’s beard was that adorable.

”Fine,” [Y/N] says through yet another yawn, hand coming up to rub at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I am tired.”

Fred gasps far too dramatically. “Who ever could have guessed?”

[Y/N] may be sleepy, but she still has enough strength within her to reach out and shove him lightly by the shoulder. Fred is as theatrical as always; he clutches the spot where she’d touched him as though he’s been fatally wounded.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Another yawn. Fred drops his act and shoves his hands into his pockets, expression somber as he looks at her, eyes dancing over her own tired ones. “Go get some sleep, alright?”

She purses her lips, shoulders slumping in defeat as she nods. “Okay. Suppose I’ll just try to finish it as fast as I can tomorrow.” And then, voice going soft, she says, “Thanks, Fred.”

Fred is so goddamned endeared.

“And. Um.”

”Yes?”

“Sorry about being so bloody cranky. I'm—“ she pauses, eyes darting away for a moment as she gestures wildly to nothing in particular.

Fred raises his eyebrows.

“On my period,” she mutters. “Have I made it awkward? I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to think you’d done something wrong for me to be acting.. you know.”

Fred’s brows have risen so far up his forehead he’s surprised they haven’t disappeared into his hair. His mouth has fallen open a little in surprise; whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. But part of him is relieved at the knowledge that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your tea,” says Fred teasingly. She rolls her eyes again—another yawn; the largest one so far, actually. He can’t help the fond laugh that tears its way out of his heart and past his lips. Reaching out, he places a hand on the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and nods into his chest, and Fred’s heart melts. “You too, Freddy.”

—

The next morning, [Y/N] wakes up to a mysteriously completed set of History of Magic homework and a bag of Honeydukes' chocolates on her bedside table.

[veniteme]

Hunting for Gems

episode 1

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

1k words

Show Me the Money X Episode 1 – Round 1: Rapper Selection

The first round of Show Me the Money X is underway. Over 20,000 rappers auditioned, and today they are all gathered at the venue. Contestants rap a cappella in front of one of the producers, who will decide whether or not to give them a necklace.  

Countless rappers are lined up in rows or sitting on benches lining the walls, waiting for their turn to be evaluated.

Staff: We will be announcing the next producers to come out now!

All the contestants turn to the large doors at the end of the large space.  

Staff: Ash Island and Saf!

Light applause fills the room. Confusion can be seen on many contestants’ faces.

[Contestant 1: Sap? Saf? Never heard of her.]

[Contestant 2: Oh, I know Ash Island! Saf? Sorry, no I don’t know who that is.]

Saf: Well, guess I’ll just have to work harder for them to know me then!

She just laughs it off. Ash Island scoffs.

Ash Island: How many songs did you work on last year? If you work any harder your hands will fall off.

Ash Island and Saf part ways at the door, starting their evaluations on opposite sides of the room. Ash Island greets his first contestant with a bow and motions for him to begin. As he raps, Ash watches him, eyes partially covered by his bangs. The contestant, seeing Ash’s intense gaze, pauses for a moment partway through his rap. Without hesitation, Ash mutters a thank you and moves on to the next contestant.  

[Contestant 1: His stare is very intimidating.]

[Contestant 2: He was so good-looking, I got distracted during my rap.]

This pattern continues: rapper begins, rapper makes eye contact with Ash, rapper messes up, Ash moves to the next rapper. Despite some rappers not even making a mistake, Ash still interrupts most of them with a small “thank you” and moves on.  

In comparison, there almost seems to be an angelic glow surrounding Saf.  

When a contestant makes a mistake, she smiles and nods, encouraging them to continue. With all the contestants she turns down, she still gives them small tips on how they can improve.  

[Contestant 1: Even though I failed, she made it not feel as bad.]

[Contestant 2: She was so nice, I think I’m in love.]

Ash Island: Seems like a waste of your time to me.  

Saf: No it wasn’t!

Ash Island: Come on, you’re experienced enough as a producer. I bet you could tell within the first ten seconds of their rap if they should pass or fail. Am I wrong?

Saf: No...

Ash Island: So ultimately you wasted both your time and theirs. What’s the point of all the formalities if you’re just going to fail them anyway? Either way, for them, the results are the same.

Saf appears to be contemplating this statement for a while, before finally coming up with a response.

Saf: But why do you consider being nice to people a waste of time?

-----

“What was I even supposed to say to that?” Ash asks his labelmates in exasperation. Leellamarz and Changmo are laughing almost hysterically behind him.

“Man,” Changmo finally breathes. “If the whole world didn’t think you were a terrible person before, they sure do now.”  

“Thank you, I really needed to hear that,” Ash deadpans. Why does he keep watching these clips with the guys, again? Oh right, they’re forcing him to.

“And that is why you should never argue with a girl, dude.” Hash gives Ash a solid pat on the shoulder as he says this. Lesson learned: don’t question anything a girl does.

-----

You take a deep breath to calm yourself... then proceed to frantically dial Rohan on your phone.

Knowing what this is about, he answers in a monotone, “What do you want?”

Ignoring the rudeness of his greeting, you continue to freak out. “I can’t do this! What am I going to do? What am I going to say? Can I please, please just go back to the H1GHR studio to work with Haon?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who made plans to meet with Jinyoung,” Rohan points out, using Ash’s real name.

After filming the first episode, you and Ash had decided it would be best for the two of you to get to know each other away from cameras, since you’d be working together for the next couple months. This is how you landed in your current situation, a bundle of nerves, standing outside the building of Ambition Musik.  

“Well, I should not be held accountable for any choices I make in front of him. Obviously, I cannot be trusted!” you try telling your best friend.  

Rohan sighs. “Why are you acting like this is your first time meeting him? You filmed the preview and the entire first episode together already. Plus, you’re there to talk about music, just treat him like any other artist you’ve worked with.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you take a moment to gain some composure. “I can do this. I can be normal. He’s just another person. There’s no need to freak out.” At this point, you’re not sure if you’re saying this to Rohan or yourself.  

“There’s literally no reason you should be this nervous. So get in there, and please hang up. I’d like to eat my ramen before the noodles get all swollen.”

You laugh a little. “All right fine, I’ll see you later.” You get off the phone, feeling a bit better after talking to your best friend. With some of the tension in your shoulders relieved, you enter the building.

-----

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Do you want some water?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Oh, okay.”

…  

-----

Despite the abysmal start, your meetup with Ash was going surprisingly well. Once you were past the awkward small talk and got into your music, conversation flowed much more naturally.  

“Whenever I hear this song I think ‘This is the type of music I want to make,’” you express, as your favorite song plays in Ash’s studio. “If I could write the perfect song, it would be something like this. The vocals, the music, the arrangement, everything about it is just so good.”

You let out a wistful sigh. “Too bad I could never come close to a masterpiece like this one.”

“Do you not like the music you’re making right now?” Ash asks, a bit puzzled. Funny, you’ve never really been asked or even asked yourself this question before, and you tell him that.  

“It’s not like I hate all the songs I've produced. But I feel like they’ve always been made for someone else. I love working with Haon, I love producing for him. But ultimately, even with my name in the credits, it becomes his song. It’s all about his performance, his interpretation. Once it leaves the studio, it’s not mine, it’s not my music anymore. You know what I mean?” You’re not sure if all this is even making any sense. You’ve been rambling for so long, is he even listening at this point?  

However, when you look up, he’s looking at you very intently. “Yeah, I get it. I felt that way on High School Rapper back then, and even now sometimes when I’m working on a song. I get caught up in thinking if people will like it, if my fans will like it, if it’ll chart well. But the whole point of your music is that it should be an expression of yourself. So when it’s not, it feels almost wrong.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, now’s our chance,” he begins. “It’s just you and me, with over 100 rappers to choose from. We can make whatever music we want.”  

When you make eye contact, neither of you even realize you’re smiling at each other.  

[professional-idiocy]

On Thin Ice - pt. 3

Yeah yeah, I’m slow with stuff. In my defense test week was a bitch and math SUCKS. Especially when you have to deal with this sadistic program called ViLLE that’s supposed be “helpful” with teaching math. If you ever see that name run for the hills. 

Pt. 1, Pt. 2 - Next

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whoopsalittlewhumpy, @uncooly-supreme-whump 

TW: Mentions drowning and burns. Colby is a huge mess with a lot of issues with self-worth. Also torture cause Rosa is a bitch

Kevin didn’t know what to think. He was sitting on his couch with a sleeping villain snuggled close. He sighed continuing to pet Colby’s hair. At least he didn’t hate him. If he’d just gotten lost earlier Colby wouldn’t have been tortured for months.

He was in way over his head. He didn’t know anything about treating injuries. He’d just copied something he’d seen on TV! He was severely underqualified for this. He was a journalist, he wrote articles, he wasn’t exactly the best for whatever this situation was.

He needed to think. He had a person who’d been tortured. He had evidence of the injuries and the condition he’d found Colby in. He also had evidence it was a hero who’d done this.

He needed to get a doctor to look at Colby. That would definitely be important. Where would he even find a doctor? Especially someone who wouldn’t mind Colby was a villain…

Selena! That was it. She had a doctor friend who would probably be willing to help them. He took out his phone being careful to not wake up Colby continuing to softly pet his hair.

Kevin frowned when some dried blood got stuck in his hand. It made him feel horrible, his sister had done all this. His sister had tortured someone. It made him feel nauseous. Rosa had always stood up and protected him as a kid, but to do this to another person was horrifying…

Enough.

First, he’ll help Colby, and later he needed to ask his sister to explain why he would hurt Colby. Right now the best way to help Colby was to get a doctor here.

He sent Selena a message. He really hoped it wouldn’t go south.

Hey, I’m a pickle right now. Would your doctor friend be willing to help a villain?

I kinda took one in. He was tortured by a hero. Please don’t tell anyone. He’s really fragile rn. Also tell her I’m also willing to pay

Soon enough Selena responded, easing his worries.

You mean Ellie?

Knowing her she will gladly help, especially if the patient is a villain. I blame “the cat” for that.

I’ll text her number tomorrow once I’ve given her a heads up.

It’s 10pm so try to sleep

Kevin sighed in relief. Everything went well and he was also getting tired. He should definitely sleep while he had the chance. The couch was decently comfortable, and he really didn’t want to wake Colby up. He yawned softly while Colby clung to him, sleeping contently.

Kevin shot up hearing a soft yelp combined with a thud. He scanned the room only to find Colby on the floor trembling while crying.

“I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to fall asleep, a- and I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to. Please- please believe me I’m sorry” Colby begged kneeling on the floor. Kevin frowned muttering curses under his breath. Rosa had done a number on him and he hated it.

“It’s fine, you aren’t in trouble. I know you must be really stressed but believe me you aren’t in trouble” Kevin said as softly as possible, hoping to get a more positive reaction out of Colby, which it did. Well, to some extent. He fearfully waited before sniffing and wiping away tears.

“I’m sorry”

“I know. Do you wanna get onto the couch for me?” Kevin said softly, trying to get the terrified villain to trust him.

“I can stay on the floor, sir” Kevin frowned at that but as soon as he showed even a hint of displeasure Colby seemed to freeze in fear. He quickly scooped Colby up before sitting him on the couch.

“There you go. It’s much better, right?” Kevin asked as Colby nodded still keeping an eye on him, worried he’d done something wrong.

“I’m going to go make breakfast. Do you have any allergies?” Colby shook his head as Kevin smiled softly petting his hair, which he seemed to enjoy a lot. If leaning into the touch was anything to go by. He got up, leaving for the kitchen, doing his best to ignore how sad Colby looked, making him feel like he’d just abandoned a kitten.

He sighed once he was sure Colby wouldn’t hear or see him. This was going to be a lot of work, but Colby was adorable. First, he needed food for both, then get Colby to take a bath, call Ellie and ask if she could come and take a look at Colby.

Sandwiches would do, right? It’s not like he had anything else here, he was supposed to go to the store yesterday, but Colby had kinda ruined that plan, besides he can just order takeout. He smiled at the sandwiches, they looked like crap. He wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but it would have to do for now.

Colby really didn’t know what to think. Kevin had been so nice even when he’d done something wrong. Miss Rosa would’ve never forgiven him for assuming anything. Instead, Kevin had gently pet his hair and now was making breakfast. He really wanted to know how he needed to repay it all.

He jumped back to awareness when Kevin came back with four sandwiches on two different plates. He tilted his head curiously as Kevin smiled handing him a plate. He held onto the plate confused as Kevin sat next to him eating. Colby mimicked his actions before carefully taking a bite out of the sandwich.

He couldn’t help but to smile. It was amazing and tasted so good! He really wanted to repay him already. If he didn’t, he would be horrible and selfish. He gulped the sandwich down before carefully turning to Kevin. He didn’t know what Kevin wanted for this. He froze as Kevin just pet his hair smiling softly. It was nice.

Colby took the other sandwich, carefully trying to stuff it on Kevin’s plate. Maybe Kevin would like it if he gave him the food back? He was full anyway and didn’t deserve this much. Kevin smiled as Colby finally got the sandwich to fit.

“Are you full already?” Kevin asked softly and Colby nodded. He smiled taking the sandwich and putting it back on Colby’s plate, much to his surprise, but he didn’t hopefully let it show.

“You know you can save the sandwich for later. You don’t need to give it to me” Colby let his expression slip into one of surprise before nodding. So that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t just give his food to Kevin. So, he needed to find another way to repay him for the mercy he’d been shown.

“I- I can take care of the dishes” Colby said, trembling softly. He needed- no he wanted to be useful.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it, after I’ve prepared a bath for you and then we’ll check on the wounds” Kevin said as Colby nodded quickly before he could hesitate. Kevin got up leaving for what Colby assumed was the bathroom.

He sat on the couch, mind racing through all the scenarios. A bath meant water and Kevin could use water to hurt him in so many ways. Kevin could hold his head underwater and he knew he was too weak to resist. Cold water could cause shock and hypothermia, but if the water was too hot, he’d be burned.

He deserved it though, unlike the people he’d hurt for Alaric. He was just doing as ordered but he’d hurt people. He didn’t even remember their names or faces. They were all just people Alaric had wanted information from.

Miss Rosa was right.

He really was a monster.

A simple “Are you alright?” broke through his thoughts making him snap into attention. No-one had asked that before. It made him feel warm and fuzzy.

“I mean, you were crying just now” Kevin said softly as Colby blinked before quickly wiping the tears away.

“I’m fine” he whispered weakly as his voice escaped him. Kevin smiled ruffling his hair. Maybe he just needed to be small and cute for Kevin? He did seem to like it when he snuggled close. It that was the case, he really didn’t mind the warmth and closeness of another person.

“Alright then. I got the bath ready, but do you need help? I mean you can barely walk” Kevin asked awkwardly as Colby watched him carefully.

“I can’t put much weight on my legs, but I’ll be fine. You don’t have to waste your time with me”

“Alright” Kevin said picking Colby up who clung to him in surprise “I already prepared everything and left clothes you can borrow” Colby nodded clinging to Kevin in confusion. He didn’t really know what Kevin wanted and it was best to not speculate too much. He knew for a fact Kevin wanted him to be entertaining thanks to Miss Rosa’s clue since he’d be returned when he became boring.

He needed to avoid that.

Kevin sighed taking a sip out of his tea. He really didn’t know a thing about this. He’d called Ellie who’d promised to come tomorrow to take a look and give him some advice. It was reassuring but he really hoped Colby was fine he’d left him to take care of himself. He should be fine, but it still worried him. Colby was practically helpless in his current state.

As soon as he thought that he heard a soft thud just outside the bathroom. He put his tea down on the table rushing to the bathroom only to see Colby on the floor, helplessly looking up at him. He’d never noticed it before due to all the dried blood, but he was way too thin! He was literally nothing but skin and bones!

Was his sister always this cruel?

It was disgusting to think Rosa would do something lik­­­e this. His thoughts were brought to a halt as Colby looked up at him in terror before beginning to cry and apologize for bothering him.

He looked so small and fragile as the too large shirt kept slipping off his shoulder. Why would Rosa hurt someone like him? He looked so small and young as he trembled looking at him in terror.

Wait, did Colby think he was mad at him?

Shit.

He knelt in front of Colby as he watched in fear of something. This whole situation made him feel terrible, confused, and icky. He needed to do something.

“Shhh, it’s fine you did nothing wrong” he said softly as Colby just kept crying softly still apologizing. He reached out to run a hand through Colby’s hair only for Colby to suddenly cling to him.

“Please, I know I might be a bit troublesome but please don’t give me back to Miss Rosa. I’ll promise I’ll do my best to repay you” He begged clinging to him, Kevin held him close, gently wiping away Colby’s tears as he watched silently in a mix of surprise and fear.

“It’s fine. I’m not giving you back to her, ever” He said as Colby breathed a sigh of relief before snuggling closer to Kevin. He would never let this precious bean be hurt again.

[deniigi]

Jack and the other folks at the gym; how they met, what their relationships are like, how they are with Matt etc.

For you, anon. I have an old fic that answers all of these questions.

It’s written from the perspective of Jack’s best friend and sparring partner Rudy DeLuca.

Title: Tape

Summary: There were two generations of devils at Fogwell’s Gym

Warnings: child abuse, physical abuse, references to drug use and suicide/suicide attempts, and foster care

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

There was a famed baby at the gym at the moment and Rudy was scheming how to get it into his arms when the old man caught him leaning on the front desk and told him that he had two whole grandbabies waitin’ for him at home.

Matty took that moment to fly in from the back room where he’d been harrassing the shit out of the new ‘clerk’ (as Fogwell called him) to ask if Tina had finally popped.

Rudy was caught off guard by the image of Tina beating the shit out of Matt for that and then by the wave of nostalgia that the kid’s sudden enthusiasm bought.

“Well, look who’s here?” he drawled instead, slowly turning around towards the beast. “Where you been, neighbor?”

Matt beamed at him.

He looked good.

Happy.

Far, far too happy.  

Rudy squinted.

Matt waited a beat, then scrambled back into staff entrance and knocked shit over on the desk back there in his haste to go hide behind Fogwell.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

That’s right, troublemaker, go hide behind Grandpa. He’ll protect you, you little shit.

The new gym baby was a full two months old. He was fat and grumpy and his papa’s pride and joy already. Rudy managed to snag an opportunity to get the thing into his arms when Bert and Kenny came in, signaling for the youths that the senior citizen shift had begun.

Fogwell was the most distinguished of the senior citizens, but, of course, he would wait his turn until the rest of them had finished lavishing attention upon his fiftieth great-grandbaby.

Baby’s papa was proud as a peacock.

“His name’s Henry,” he told Rudy, while Henry wrinkled his nose and eyes up at him.

Henry.

Ehn.

Terrible name.

“He looks like a John,” Rudy said.

Papa, who Rudy had forgotten the name of at least six times since he’d joined the gym, laughed.

“I thought about callin’ him Jack,” he said. “But my girl drew the line there.”

Ah.

Right.

This was that kid.

Kenny had gathered everyone into a group huddle in the changing room the other week to explain seriously how they all needed to avoid the fuck out of this guy. He’d said in a whisper that the guy was one of them people into vintage shit.

A hipster, he meant.

A fuckin’ hipster in their midst.

God, there were more and more of them in the gym every day.

Rudy lifted an eyebrow at baby Henry.

He didn’t deserve to be called Henry. He really did look more like a John. But, for the sake of the dead, Rudy decided that he’d squint for as hard and long as it took for him to become a Henry.

 ---

 Fogwell’s had been legendary back in the day for producing pro boxers out of good-for-nothin’, trouble-makin’ guys with no other prospects.

Fogwell was that general from Mulan who made men out of boys (and the occasional girl. And the most recent kid who said that they weren’t a guy or a gal and if anyone wanted to throw down about it, they were posting their number on the cork board by the front desk).

Back in Rudy’s youth, that had been appealing as hell. And so he’d had a swagger on into the place, thinking that maybe he would pop his guns a bit in Fogwell’s direction and get the polishing he needed to make enough money to buy his girl a ring.

On the upside, Fogwell had, in fact, noticed him. But the downside was that Rudy had had no fucking clue what that actually meant, and so three years later, he’d found himself smoking only twice a week instead of every day, drinking goddamn protein shakes, and doing a daily fuckin’ jog like a military brat.

Fogwell had no time for dumb shit. He didn’t care if you wanted to kill yourself slowly with whatever vice you picked from the basket, but if you walked into the ring with his name on your back, then you would disgrace that name on pain of divine retribution.

It was way easier just to get one step ahead of the guy’s nit-picking than to suffer his judgemental silence.

That had been Fogwell back in the day, and that was still Fogwell in the now.

But as with any force of nature, even if the old man had planted his feet and announced his intention to rest there in that place for the next two millenia, the world around him still carried on spinning around.

Fogwell’s wasn’t just a facility for churning out pros these days. It wasn’t just legendary, now.

It was a fuckin’ institution.

God help them.

They were a tourist destination. Ghost hunters, folks on buses, sports fans, teen girls with a mighty need for a vintage-lookin’ selfie. You name it. They pressed their noses up against the yellowed glass to watch the people inside break their bodies down to build them up into something money-making.

It wasn’t an unwarranted curiosity, to be fair.

Fogwell had produced twenty pro boxers in the last several decades who’d really made it. Like, really, really made it.

Bert was one of them—to literally every one of the senior citizens’ surprise.

Bert had been a empty-headed wise-guy with a porn-stache at best way back when. And like, don’t get Rudy wrong, he was still an empty-headed wise-guy. He was just an empty-headed wise guy with a head like a helmet and a whole lot of money now.

Not that you’d have known it from lookin’ at him.

Bless him.

He was paying college tuition for all his kids and he was helping the older ones vet kindergartens with tuition or what the fuck ever, doing all that he could so that those babies didn’t have to live life out of Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese boxes like him.

Bert had made it. That was the dream.

The dream was just that, though. A shot in the dark. A drop in a bucket. Kenny had done alright, just like Rudy had done alright. They’d had their ten minutes of time in the spotlight. Had made enough to get by. Had made enough to be comfortable in Hell’s Kitchen. To retire and become personal trainers or sports commentators or whatever the fuck opportunity jumped up in their faces.

A lot of fellas hadn’t made it, though. And then there were the Almosts.

Jackie had been an Almost, god rest his soul.

This new hipster kid at the gym with his baby had latched onto Jack’s image, found in old magazines and grainy footage, and had decided that that whole vibe fit the image that he wanted to live in.

It made Rudy sick. It made Kenny angry—hence the group huddle.

There were about seven of them left who’d both known Jackie and who still used the gym on the regular. Eight if you included Fogwell.

Nine if you included Matty.

Jesus fuckin’ help them.

This dumbass hipster kid didn’t even know who Matty was. Most of the newcomers didn’t. He was just some bright, perky blind guy to them. He was Center-Left-Second-Back bag. That was his bag.

And he was good.

He was a curiosity to the newcomers and the people pressed against glass—one of a handful of middle-weights in a sea of heavyweights. He didn’t look like everyone else. He wasn’t packing muscle like everyone else. He was lithe and coiled and looked, honestly, a little out of place to folks who didn’t know the gym as Home #2.

He was interesting to the newcomers mostly because he was 100% Fogwell’s favorite. Fogwell doted on him by ribbing him and bullying him viciously, by bumping into him and throwing him off mark left and right, and all the while, Matty just beamed.  

The newbies thought he got preferential treatment because he was blind. But that wasn’t it. Matty got treated that way because that was how his grandpa told him he loved him.

 ---

 Before Jake and Carlos and Omar and Matty, Jack had been Fogwell’s favorite up-and-coming rookie.

It had been no secret. Well. To most people.

Jack had been horrified when he’d found out.

No one wanted to be Fogwell’s favorite. That’s how you went pro whether you liked it or fucking not.

Jack had pleaded with Kenny for hours to take his place, but there was nothing that could be done. Jackie was the youngest and Jackie had come from a shit home life and Jackie would do anything and everything Fogwell told him to do because he was just that kind of sweet and respectful.

Fogwell could smell Jack’s lack of a father-figure on him like Chanelle No. 5.

He could smell it miles away.

Jack had actually been at the gym before Rudy had joined up. He’d been around since he was about seventeen. He’d come in on the heels of his big brother who wanted to go pro.

It quickly became apparent to Fogwell that Tom Murdock didn’t have what it took to be a boxer. He was just a bully. But that little brother of his, Tom’s punching bag, now he had some talent. He had the diligence and respect that the game, in Fogwell’s opinion, was severely lacking.

So Fogwell did what he did best and drove a wedge slowly between Tom and baby Jackie, separating the two of them so that he could get his mitts on Jackie and do something with him before Tom and his junkie sister took Jackie down with them.

Rudy had met Jack soon after Jack’s eldest brother had been arrested for murdering his wife and stepdaughter.

The kid was a wreck. He’d just turned 18.

He didn’t talk. He just fought and fought and fought until he cried and cried and cried. All on his own, from 5pm to 1am, at Center-Left-Second-Back.

Fogwell let him.

Fogwell came over to put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed when he finally dropped from exhaustion.

It was hard to watch.

The older guard at the time had bared their teeth and clenched their jaws as Jackie had pummeled his heart out against that bag.

No one could help him.

Everyone but Rudy, at that time, had seen the man he’d walked into the gym with. They’d seen this coming a mile away. And over a few days of that, it become clear to Rudy that Jack didn’t have a home to go back to that didn’t scream at him from morning until night. At that time, the gym for him was Home #1.

 ---

 It took about a year, but Rudy eventually got to know this weeping, heartbroken boy from the worst side of the Kitchen.

Rudy learned from the others about the Murdocks.

They were sinners and drunkards and addicts, word had it. The police were always in and out of their rooms, taking one of the five kids or one of the parents to jail for some damn reason or another. Neighbors wasted their hard-earned money on phone calls to the police for domestic disputes and violence and so on and so on. Everyone on the streets said to be careful of the Murdocks, especially them boys.

They got the devil in ‘em.

But not Jackie, Rudy learned.

He was shy, bless him. He wasn’t suited to those others’ kind of life.

Rudy actually had felt, for the second time in his life, strong brotherly feelings around this kid. He and his own sister didn’t get on until someone threatened the other. Then it was no-holds-barred, bear-like feelings. Just them against the world.

But Jack was different. He had puppy eyes with a constant black one and perpetually chapped lips. It had never occurred to him that he could spend a buck buying chapstick. It had never occurred to him that he could have friends that he didn’t have to smile at until his face hurt.

He didn’t really get what it meant to have relationships with other people and for the first six months of their acquaintance, Jack refused to meet Rudy’s eye, much less say more than five words to him.

He was more than respectful.

He was skittish.

The other guys, who were happy to haze Rudy, warned him that he if so much as looked at that kid, Fogwell would break his bones and his career would be over before it even started.

It had definitely turned into a kind of spite thing.

Rudy had absolutely been that kind of shithead back then.

He’d started by offering to hold Jack’s bag while he worked out his aggression. That had been a mistake.

He’d caught Fogwell snickering at him about ten minutes into it, after trying and failing that whole time to find a way to plant his feet that would let him actually hold onto the bag.

Jack had noticed.

Jack had gotten flustered and freaked out bad enough that Rudy had been forced to leave him be or else he’d hyperventilate or go hide in the backroom in a cupboard or something in self-flagellation.

It took some practice and some muscle, but they got there in the end.

Jack was a great sparring partner because he did not fucking go down. It was like trying to fight a pine tree sometimes. He would, could, and did take hit after hit without batting an eye.

And when it was his turn for offense?

Rudy was well aware that he’d signed up to be a human punching bag, but this? This was a lot.

Fogwell critiqued the fuck out of Jack’s everything.

His form.

His posture.

His aim.

His drive.

His commitment.

His tape.

His fucking hair.

Jack thought he was like that with everyone.

Rudy loved that kid like a brother, but he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. Not by far.

That had become more clear when Kenny joined their mottley crew and, aggravatingly sharp, had taken to teasing Jack. That was more frustrating for Kenny than anyone else because Jackie didn’t get a single joke or jibe.

No, Jack didn’t know Seinfield. Or Friends. Or Charlie’s Angels. No, he didn’t know anything about cars. No, he didn’t know about physics or chemistry or math. What the fuck was English lit? Wait, what’s the difference between books and literature?

God.

Bless.

That.

Kid.

He wasn’t unintelligent, he just wasn’t academic.

He was sweet about it, though. The youngest of five, he had no choice but to be sweet because all his siblings called him hopeless and useless and stupid, so he had to be something and so pretty it was.

Rudy had never met someone who performed so well under pressure and around two years into their friendship and, suddenly privy to the full extent of Jack’s honestly horrific, borderline surreal upbringing, he finally got it.

But then along came Grace.

The Lord’s agent herself.

Jack was a good Catholic boy who saw a nun and dropped his eyes, but for some reason, this novice caught his gaze and he was gone.

He got dopey and dreamy the night after she and some friends had snuck out in their novice habits to see a load of guys in desperate need of the Lord hitting on each other.

It was tooth-decaying the way Jack swooned for that girl.

Her name was Margaret, she told him saucily at the church one street over from the one he’d grown up attending, but he could call her ‘Grace.’

Jack banged his melon on a locker a week later at the gym and the jolt make him realize that he was in love with her.

He cracked his head a second time with everyone watching him in a mix of pity, exhaustion, and indulgence and then scurried off to the bathroom to hyperventilate over a urinal.

“Someone go keep Baby M from drowning in a sink,” Horace Whalin, a professional beast at the start of his career, had sighed.

Everyone had looked right at Rudy.

 ---

 Grace was the worst thing that could ever have happened to Jack.

Everyone at the gym knew it. Fogwell hated that girl with a cold passion.

She made Jack stupider than usual. Bolder than ever.

She made him think and made him question things and like, that was probably a good thing in terms of Jack’s life experience and mental health, but in terms of boxing?

Not good.

Fogwell was openly dreaming up schemes to break them up the day Jack came tearing into the gym and announced that he was getting married.

It took everything in Rudy not to start cackling right then and there. The entire gym’s necklines bulged with the effort not to fucking laugh. Fogwell went silent and blank.

He’d waved Jack in close and and when he came—because he would always come to Fogwell, no matter what—the old man set a hand on Jack’s shoulder and told him that if he brought that woman into the gym he’d kill him.

Jack stared up at him and said that they were getting married in a church, Coach. Why would he bring her to the gym?

At that point, it would have taken a saint not to laugh and the gym was full of only sinners.

 ---

 Grace was the worst thing that had ever happened to Jack, but Matty was by far, the best thing.

Fogwell, after being vindicated upon Jack and Grace’s abrupt and tragic separation, found that Matt could be used as a motivator for his up-and-comer.

Matty, of course, played the part beautifully.

He was unfairly cute with those delicate, whispy red locks and them big hazel eyes. He was bubbly and chatty. An unrelenting troublemaker. Just a barrel of laughs.

Fogwell took to letting Jack put Matty’s carrier on a bench next to the ring or on one of the metal bleachers around the mats in the weights and sparring room. He found that if Matty started whining or crying, that Jack got twice as motivated to finish whatever task was at hand with maximum efficiency.

Matt was the best thing to ever happen to Jack’s boxing career, truly.

He also immediately became the gym’s darling because all the veterans there at that point were dads. Rudy himself had had his first girl Tina the year before, but unlike Jack, the rest of them had childcare arrangements and the money to maintain them.

 ---

 It was just natural for people to gravitate towards the baby. Out of paternal instincts, yeah, but also because Matty was a source of constant entertainment.

He called everyone uncle until he was seven and he needed to be negotiated with to leave Fogwell be until he was nine. Fogwell didn’t mind him. Fogwell had unwittingly adopted him.

Matty didn’t meet his own uncles and grandpa. Jack couldn’t bear that. He took Matty to meet Bill, Jack’s eldest brother—the one who’d killed his wife—in jail and afterwards had been heart-broken and anxious for days.

Grace did not approve, it turned out.

Grace, who went by Maggie at that point, and who had given up her rights to be the mother of Jack’s child, remained one of Jack’s closest and dearest friends.

They still loved each other, and in Fogwell’s very correct opinion, that was nothing but trouble. He snatched Matty at every opportunity and informed him softly but firmly that he was not going to fall in love with a nun when he was big or there would be consequences.

Matt seemed to have come to understand this rule over time, but he never seemed to put together pieces as to why Fogwell was so insistent about it.

 ---

 When Jack turned up murdered, everyone at the gym decided that it was their fault.

It was surreal.

Unbelieveable.

He’d been right there, just fine, laughing and smiling the day before. Rudy had held his bag and Jack had told him to tell the girls and Mel that he missed them.

And, in a moment of crushing realization back then, Rudy had understood the implications of those words and then remembered how good Jack had always been about smiling at people.

He knew how to make himself seem okay and unimportant. He knew how to fade into the background.

Fogwell took it hard.

He blamed himself for not recognizing how bad things had gotten at home for Jack and Matty. He blamed himself for not booking him for more jobs, for pushing him harder and harder on his form lately.

Matty was taken away by social services and his absence from the table at the gym the next day finally brought out the tears that Rudy hadn’t been able to let fall.

He tried.

He tried, he did.

Over the years, Matty had become a brother to Tina, Angie, and Penelope. He fit right in that two-year gap between Tina and Angie. Rudy had him over when Jack worked and Jack had the girls when Mel needed a break from the screaming and crying. And really, by then, everyone’s kids were everyone’s at the gym.

It wasn’t a matter of who belonged to who, it was more of a matter of when someone belonged to someone.

Rudy tried to get custody or at least foster rights. Mel gave herself an ulcer over it, trying to think of how to arrange things to make their home safe for Matt. Trying to think of how to make space for him. He could share a room with Tina. They were still young. They probably wouldn’t mind after some growing pains. But social services said that that wasn’t possible. Matt was too high-risk for them. They didn’t have enough experience with ‘his type of child.’

Which was bullshit.

Matt wasn’t high-risk, Matty was traumatized and scared and with people he didn’t know, who didn’t know him.

That was what made him high-risk.

He knew Rudy and Mel’s house. He knew their girls. He knew their neighborhood.

Still, nothing.

Fogwell himself tried. Shocked the shit out of everyone at the gym, but Social services sadly shook their heads.

By then, Matt had been placed out already.

 ---

 Matt disappeared for five years. Just vanished completely. There was no sight of him until one day, Tina came home and said that ‘oh yeah, I saw Matty today’ while playing with her food at the dinner table.

Rudy and Mel had set down their forks.

Tina sighed and said that he was taller now, but he didn’t look good.

He looked sick, she said. With dark rings around his eyes and broken sunglasses. He’d been sleeping, leaning against the side of some stairs out in his school uniform at the Catholic highschool a few blocks away.

She’d poked at her chicken and then set down her fork and excused herself.

Rudy stroked her hair that night as she cried into her pillow for her lost brother.

 ---

 Matt was, by fifteen, a troubled kid.

Rudy heard shouting one day from Clinton Church and stepped out to see what was happening. He was shocked to see that familiar ginger mop struggling in the arms of two cops, swearing that if these people took him back to wherever he’d come from, that he’d kill himself. He’d do it. Don’t try him.

The priest was called.

Matt was forced down to the ground and handcuffed, still fighting.

It was--it was a whole lot to see. Kenny swore softly behind him and Bert left them to go back inside. He went to the bathroom and didn’t join them out on the mats for a while.

 ---

 Fogwell decided around then that enough was enough.

He went to the church and asked if he could borrow Matt for a while. He needed some help getting his accounts together and he knew Matt was a bright kid. Giving him a little work experience in a familiar and disciplined setting would be good for him.

But Matt wasn’t there.

 ---

 The hospital didn’t allow anyone to visit Matt. He apparently hadn’t earned the privilege of visitors from anyone who wasn’t on his care team.

Rudy felt numb at the front desk.

Jack’s boy had tried to kill himself. He’d warned them all that he would do it.

He’d apparently screamed himself hoarse that he wanted to be with his dad in the ground.

He was still screaming.

This wasn’t the first time he’d done any of this, Rudy came to learn through a few whispered conversations with some nuns from St. Agnes.

Grace had found him after the three attempts the nuns knew of. This last one was just bad enough that she couldn’t bring him back from the edge.

Grace’s eldest younger sister had committed suicide. Grace had found her and then left home immediately become a novice. To find her own son as she’d once found her sister was cosmic and divine cruelty—enough that even Fogwell shook his head and said it just wasn’t right.

 ---

 The first time Rudy saw Matty after the whole situation, he looked exactly as Tina said he did. Tired. With dark circles. Thin. His clothes threatened to fall off of him. They were threadbare and had holes in them here and there.

Matty didn’t talk.

He moved his head around a lot and jerked when anyone spoke to him or brushed against him, and he scrambled back and tripped sometimes if he was touched directly.

It was like looking at a smaller, thinner version of Jack all those years ago—this time with tightly bound wrists and a hospital bracelet that looked like it had been stretched and torn and chewed on.

Fogwell asked Matt if he thought he could do something with the accounts.

Matt said nothing.

Fogwell gave him a box of receipts and bits and bobs of payment cards and IOUs and Matt had frowned and put his hand into the box to touch its feathery contents. He’d lifted his face up in Fogwell’s direction and sneered.

“You can’t seriously live like this,” he’d said in a voice that almost brought tears to Rudy’s eyes. He’d heard Kenny clear his throat behind him.

 ---

 Matty was the smartest person Rudy had ever met.

He set Fogwell’s accounts into order in an afternoon and then he fucked off for a few days, only to come back and digitize the whole thing after making the Big Man himself sit with him and read everything out individually to him as punishment for his nasty, twentieth-century ways.

Matt was disgusted with Grandpa’s living conditions.

He banged into every object in the backroom and swore like a sailor, loud enough that the folks hitting shit in the front room could hear him.

It was hard not to laugh.

“WHY?” Matt finally raged at Grandpa. “WHY. WHY. WHY?”

Grandpa shrugged.

Matt flailed at him in agitation at the lack of verbal answer and told him to get into the fartherest corner of the room and to get a pen, they were going to organize.

Matt was the reason that Fogwell’s Gym had survived for long enough to become a tourist trap.

Matt put every document in that place in order, ready for an audit. He made computer systems for payments and receipts and direct debits. He singlehandedly bullied Fogwell into the new century and made him get a card machine.

He bitched and moaned and belly-ached until Fogwell had interviewed a handful of tax people with actual, non-criminal reputations and picked one and once he was done with all that, Matt harrassed him to invest in a deep clean for the place and to make it accessible by ADA guidelines—the whole nine yards.

Matt, at fifteen, breathed new life into Fogwell’s Gym and it was kind of amazing how the place went from barely hanging on to a decent business once more.

 ---

 After that, Matt seemed to be doing a lot better.

He didn’t have any more foster home placements. He didn’t try to hurt himself again. He decided, instead, that he was going to graduate highschool. He’d failed a fuckload of classes, though. Rudy found him despairing in the backroom over these and settled in across from him and asked to see the reports.

They weren’t good.

Matty’s teachers wrote constantly that Matt was extremely bright, but failed to participate in class or turn pretty much anything in for a grade. He slept in class. He seemed dazed. He didn’t ask for help or give any indication that he needed it.

His assigned para said that she found him challenging to work with. He was resistant to questions and seemed to be angry or, at best, uninterested in her speaking to him.

He was way behind.

Rudy had tapped the reports against the table back there and had taken a deep breath.

“It’s okay,” he told Matt. “We’ve got two years. We can make this work.”

And Matty’s head had jerked up from the table.

“We?” he’d asked in a small voice.

 ---

 Matt really, really struggled with high school. Not because he wasn’t smart enough, but because his experience was so wildly different from other kids. He didn’t go home like they did. He went to St. Agnes’s. He didn’t play video games, he read books. He didn’t smoke cigarettes or joints. He didn’t drink. He was under constant surveillance.

He was bullied. Relentlessly.

Fogwell was quietly furious when Matt came in a few times a week to type away at the desk, inputting receipts for the new secretary to deal with later. Matt was always hurt. Always fighting.

He got his classwork done out of spite, seemingly, but then went home to the orphanage and got harrassed the whole way.

He fought his peers like the devil himself.

It was…

There was…

Something not quite right with him.

 ---

 Bert pointed out when Matt was seventeen that he didn’t always use his stick like other blind folks. He forgot it sometimes and wandered around the gym like anyone else.

He didn’t trip over anything or keep fingers touching the wall like he usually did in other places.

They all chocked it up to him having grown up in the place.

Matt asked Fogwell to let him train.

Center-left-second-back.

That was Jack’s bag.

That was his son’s bag.

The veteran boxers all cycled through teaching Matt how to box. He knew—they all knew Matt already knew how, but there was always shit to learn.

Except that sometimes there wasn’t?

Matt seemed to already know everything that they taught him, including the nit-picky, little things. He listened to their descriptions, let them manipulate his hands and arms and hips, and then did what they asked immediately and with perfect form.

It was eerie.

It just wasn’t right. There was just something about it that wasn’t right. Rudy couldn’t put his finger on it.

 ---

 Matt graduated highschool the year after Tina and it was only when Rudy saw the draft of the commencement program slip out of his bag on one of the benches that Rudy realized that Matty hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.

He picked up the program while Matt was attacking his bag and considered it, then did what was done in the gym and handed the program off to Fogwell who, in a booming voice, told Baby M to get the fuck over there, front and center.

Matt clung to his bag in terror at the sound. He, unlike his daddy, had the good sense to be reluctant to follow Fogwell’s orders. Eventually, with his tail between his legs, he skulked over and had his nose shoved in the program.

He pawed at it when Fogwell made him acknowledge it and mumbled something about not going.

Which was absurd.

“It’s not a big deal,” Matt said. “I’m not valedictorian or anything. It’s just highschool. And no one’s got time to go anyways, so what’s the point if it’s just me?”

God, this kid.

 ---

 Matt’s graduation was very Catholic. Far more Catholic than Tina’s had been, but when Rudy looked over his shoulder, he was pretty sure that even a school this Catholic hadn’t been prepared for the influx of nuns hurrying down from Clinton’s church, all bustling and excited about young Matthew actually getting his diploma.

Between those four (aw, Grace. Look at you trying to play it smooth) and the seven boxing families who’d shown up, Matt was embarrassed to the point of tears. He’d hidden behind his mortarboard for the thirty minutes it took for people started calling folks up on stage.

He didn’t want to come out to take any pictures afterwards, but Tina wasn’t letting that happen. Her sisters leapt on board with the program and Rudy had managed at least one picture of the four of them smiling. Even better, he had one of Matt trying desperately to keep a smile while Fogwell stood stiffly next to him in stone-faced approval.

 ---

 Matty was the first in the gym’s kid’s generation to graduate college, and then he was the only one to go on to law school.

It was only at that big graduation that Rudy finally saw Matt beaming like a loon—like he had up at Jack as a baby, but this time at the long-haired, chubby guy next to him.

This, legend had it, was the Roommate.

The one Matt refused to speak about to anyone at the gym.

Period.

At all.

There was no discussion.

That is, until he was forced by Fogwell standing menacingly over him in silent demand for a hug, to introduce them all to Foggy.

Foggy Nelson.

And then, just like that. It was exactly Jack all over again.

Veins bulging as everyone tried desperately not to laugh at Fogwell’s face at the realization that Matty had gone out and found a better, nicer Fog-person to be friends with.

 ---

 Foggy Nelson—Edward Nelson from the hardware store’s son—was not fucking good enough for Matty, Fogwell decided. He’d begun a stoic campaign to introduce Matt to every available boxer’s son and daughter in the city in the hopes that a little nudge would get Matty away from all them conniving lawyer-folk. That was all fine and well with Matt because Matt, they’d all learned after a few years in his company again, was a horrendous flirt.

God, this boy.

Incorrigible.

He flirted with Tina and Angie and Penelope and got slapped every time.

He flirted with Bert’s daughter Becka.

He flirted with Becka’s husband.

He flirted with Kenny’s son’s best friend at the son’s wedding.

He flirted with the new secretary’s sister-in-law.

He was completely unstoppable.

Kenny approved.

But Kenny also asked Matt pointedly if he and his roommate had worked things out yet and that sent Matt scowling and shuffling off to go hide behind Fogwell, wherever he was, for emotional support.

 ---

 Matt was Daredevil.

He had to be.

Everyone in the gym suspected this.

He was too good at fighting. To flexible. Too sturdy and relentless and angry to be anyone else. They all recogized his shoulders in those little blips of videos people posted online. They recognized how close he got to people from the way he get up in his bag’s imagined face.

He had some kind of superpower—some kind of 360 degree awareness was the best Rudy could describe it.

He felt like he remembered Jack freaking out about something like this a million years ago. Nattering on about super-senses in the aftermath of the accident.

Fogwell was the one who’d brought it up again after he’d noticed that Matt liked to come in at night and spar on his own.

One time, just once, he’d left one of the security cameras on, concerned that Matty might get mugged in the night on his own there.

But Matty wasn’t getting mugged anytime soon.

No, for real.

Matt was…maybe something a little beyond them.

The video Fogwell had shown the older guys before deleting it and telling everyone to mind their own fucking business had shown Matt throwing his weight at the bag—throwing legs and fists—in complicated, almost choreographed movements that spoke of lethal intent.

He moved like a weasel. Like a predator.

Like a devil.

God knew where he’d learned those moves. The boy had lived a lot of life in those few years he’d fallen off of the gym’s radar. There was no telling who he’d met or how he’d learned to be as he was, but things made a lot more sense after that.

Jackie had had a devil in him. It only made sense that his dramatic-ass kid had one, too.

Matty had made something more of himself than his daddy. In so many other things, but in this, too.

Fogwell’s Gym was protected. It was home to a devil in disguise.

 ---

 The hipster Jack-fan appeared with baby Henry a few more times before Bert asked him if he knew that his hero’s kid, who’d lived the life baby Henry was currently living, was actually a regular at the gym.

Hipster-kid gaped and fell over himself trying to ask Bert if he could meet the guy.

Bert smirked. And then waved across the place over to where Matt had just slithered in with absurd orange sneakers that he was very proud of. He was clearly on the hunt to go show Fogwell so that he could be disgusted.

He froze when Bert called his name.

The hipster’s jaw dropped.

“Matty, come tell this man about your daddy,” Bert said.

Matt stared.

Then made a sad, aborted gesture with his free hand that said that he had very important annoyances to make of himself, so could this maybe wait?

“You’re—you’re--?” the hipster stammered.

“Matt Murdock,” Matt said hurriedly. “Great to meet you? You’re the one with the kid, right? Congrats. Have either of you seen Fogwell?”

The hipster blinked.

“Uh?” he said. “Not today?”

Matt scowled.

“He’s not escaping these,” he said, tapping his way angrily back to the door. “I got him a matching set. No one is escaping them.”

The gym at large watched him stalk back out the door, tapping away furiously, no doubt on the way down the block to Fogwell’s house.

“That’s Matt Murdock?” the hipster asked.

“Man, I thought he’d be taller,” another newbie said.

“Kid, that is the least of your problems when it comes to Matt Murdock,” Bert laughed. “Now, all of you, back to work. This ain’t a dog and pony show. Go on.”

 ---