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summerwritesfics · 8 months

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🫧So Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want This Time

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang, Sektor/Kuai Liang, Original Male Character/Kuai Liang Fandom: Mortal Kombat Length: 6966 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Choking, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Gentle Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Controlling Behaviour, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, One Night Stands, No Aftercare, Aftercare, Self-Esteem Issues, Nicknames, Kissing, Bathing/Washing, Unhealthy Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Degradation, I know a lot of these contradict each other but they happen in different sections, All sex is consensual but definitely not healthy, None of the bad or unhealthy stuff happens with Hanzo/Kuai tho @hurtcomfort-bingo: Nickname(s)

Hurt And Comfort Bingo Masterlist

Notes: I wanted to write a fic sort of exploring Kuai’s growth in terms of relationships, and I actually felt the nickname prompt on this bingo card was an interesting way for me to do that. Basically this fic is from various points of Kuai’s life, framed around nicknames he’s received at some point. I really wanted to focus on the transition from unhealthy relationships to healthy ones, and how despite Kuai initially not coping in a healthy way, he eventually finds love and healing. So, head’s up, like it says in the tags, this fic does focus on some of the abuse Kuai’s suffered and it’s somewhat explicit in this one rather than implied or discussed as being in the past like it has in previous fics. I will say that the worst of it is relegated to the first part, so you might be able to skip ahead to the first line break and be fine, but be aware that it’s kind of a big part of the fic. Title is from “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths.

“You never learn, Snowstorm.”

Kuai Liang felt himself being thrown against the wall, pain blossomed in his side where hours earlier he’d been struck with a metal pipe. Seconds after he hit the wall, a hand wrapped around his neck and began to squeeze. He choked slightly, hands reaching up to claw at the hand while he stared Sektor straight in the eyes.

Kuai didn’t really remember when Sektor started calling him snowstorm, but now that he thought about it, the nickname really told how Sektor viewed Kuai. He was an oncoming storm, wild and out of control, completely unpredictable and impossible to tame. Unruly. Destructive. Uncooperative. Something that Sektor desperately wanted to get under his control.

“S-Sektor,” Kuai whispered, hoping that wouldn’t cause him to do anything rash. “Please.”

Sektor laughed bitterly, “oh now you want to grovel.” He lent in closer, face practically touching Kuai’s. “You were so mouthy and proud of yourself in front of my father.” Kuai just stilled under Sektor, not really wanting to provoke him further. “You realise that because I was assigned to dish out your punishment, every time you act out like a little bitch, it makes me look bad in turn?”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Kuai sarcastically replied before he could stop himself. The second it slipped from his lips, his eyes widened, watching the way Sektor’s face warped. “I- I- I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.” Kuai felt the panic rise in his chest when his pathetic apologies were clearly not being accepted. “I am so sorry, I’ll be better next time I promise.”

To his relief, the hand around his throat retreated, only to feel himself being yanked forward. The world spun as he was thrown in a completely different direction, side protesting the action. He fell back onto something soft. Lifting his head, it took him an embarrassing couple of seconds to realise he was on Sektor’s bed, with Sektor himself standing above him.

He looked so god damn pissed, face twisted and teeth bared, his chest heaving from how heavy he was breathing.

“I-I really am sorry.” He didn’t know if this would work. He just didn’t want this to escalate, especially when he was already injured. He scrambled to sit up slightly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d fucking better,” Sektor hissed between his teeth. “This shit is why you haven’t earned a name yet.”

Kuai flinched at that. Somehow that hurt more than any physical blow Sektor could have delivered to him. Actually at this point Kuai wished it had been a punch. That would be easier to deal with. The fact he still had not received his codename was a very sore point. Most Lin Kuei got theirs in their early to mid teens, and yet Kuai Liang was 19 and had still not done enough in the eyes of the Grandmaster. He really didn’t know how much more he could give.

“Did I hit a nerve?” Sektor asked, voice dripping with poison. “Now you know how I feel every time you do stupid shit that reflects badly on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuai whispered, keeping his head low. All he’d done was ask for clarification on an order he didn’t fully understand. He’d just wanted to make sure he got it right, he really wasn’t trying to be disrespectful or disobey. Was that really a crime that justified this screaming and berating?

“Oh, you are always sorry, Snowstorm.” Sektor took a few steps forward, and then there was a hand hooking under Kuai’s chin and forcing his face up. “The problem is you’re never sorry enough to actually make any changes.”

He tried. As the Elder Gods themselves as his witness, he swore he tried. The expectations of him just always seemed to change, they constantly moved the goal posts and he couldn’t keep up. He swore they didn’t seem to do this with anyone but him. They’d already decided he was a failure, and they were determined to make that a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“I know. I’ll do better. I will.” He knew that he couldn’t. He would never be better, and they’d never accept he was even trying to be better. But if saying it would placate Sektor, it was worth lying his ass off about.

Sektor didn’t reply, just pulled away with an annoyed sigh. Thankfully Kuai was well versed at this point in distracting Sektor from his anger. He knew exactly what would turn this situation around.

He slid off the bed, allowing himself to kneel on the floor before Sektor. His hands reached to Sektor’s hips, loosely clinging to Sektor’s belt. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his side from the bruising lacing his ribs.

“Let me make it up to you,” Kuai purred, carefully tugging on Sektor’s trousers.

Sektor huffed, reaching down to slap Kuai’s hand away. Initially, Kuai assumed his advances were being rejected, until Sektor hissed at him “hands behind your back.”

Kuai gave a relieved sigh, putting his hands behind his back like he was told. As he did so, Sektor reached for his belt, undoing it and moving the fabric of his trousers down just enough for his cock to spring free. He was already half hard, clearly Kuai Liang’s pleading had begun to get him fired up. Typical.

“Open your mouth,” Sektor ordered, reaching one hand to stroke his cock slightly, trying to coax it to further harden. Kuai did as he was told, letting his mouth hang open, ready and waiting for what Sektor intended to give him. Sektor tutted. “Of course you can follow these sorts of orders, whore.”

Before Kuai could do or say anything in retaliation, Sektor surged forward, lining his cock up with Kuai’s open mouth and thrusting in. With one swift motion, Sektor’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Kuai to gag.

There was very little ceremony and certainly no foreplay. Sektor grabbed the back of Kuai’s head, using his hair as an anchor. The thrusts were fast and rough, barely giving Kuai a chance to prepare for the onslaught. He gagged a few more times, something he hadn’t really done in a while.

Sektor didn’t pause, and Kuai was okay with that. He could handle it, actually he rather enjoyed it. Being dominated, being subservient and submissive. It excited him in ways it probably shouldn’t. The fact his own cock was stirring in his pants was a testament to that.

“Fuck. At least there’s one thing you’re good at,” Sektor growled, throwing his head back and shoving himself in as far as he could.

Something about that made Kuai happy. It wasn’t exactly praise, but it was the closest to it he’d had in a long time. He purred around Sektor’s cock, pushing the flat of his tongue against the length as Sektor continued to thrust in and out. The loud groan told Kuai his efforts were appreciated. With Sektor setting the pace so thoroughly, it was the only way he could really contribute.

He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, time seemed to mean nothing when he could feel his knees start to ache from where they rubbed against the stone floor. His jaw painfully locked in place as Sektor used his mouth. The taste of precum smearing across his tongue with every thrust. Kuai desperately kept his hands clasped together, nails digging into the opposite hand in an attempt to stop himself from reaching down for his own cock. He hadn’t been given permission yet, and he knew Sektor would be displeased if he disobeyed now.

Suddenly, Sektor pulled Kuai forwards, until his nose was touching Sektor’s pelvis. Hands kept him still in place, as his mouth was filled with cum. The salty taste hit his tongue and the back of his throat immediately. Sektor rocked his hips back and forth a couple of more times, before finally pulling out with a wet pop. Kuai closed his eyes and swallowed, hearing the unmistakable sound of fabric.

When Kuai reopened his eyes, Sektor was turned away, fiddling with his clothing, replacing his cock in his pants. Kuai gave a happy sigh, and whispered “I love you.”

Sektor stilled, going completely rigid for a few seconds. He then continued to put himself back into place, completely ignoring what Kuai Liang had just said. It was always like this, but that was okay. Sektor didn’t have to say it back, Kuai Liang could vocalise it for the both of them.

“I need to go talk to my father, to fix your mess,” Sektor snarled, finally turning back to Kuai and pointing at his face. “You will stay right here and wait for me to return. I am not done with you. If I find out you have left this room at any point, you will regret it.”

Kuai took the hand in front of him, pulling it to his mouth as he kissed Sektor’s knuckles. “I’ll wait for you.”

Sektor gave a cruel laugh, the sort where it was clear that Kuai was exactly where the other man wanted him. He patted Kuai’s face a couple of times, before straightening himself out, and striding towards the door.

With a slam of the door, Sektor was gone, and Kuai was left still kneeling on the floor. He smiled to himself, letting himself lean back against the bed. He held his hands to his chest, as if his feelings were so large they were about to burst out, and this was the only way to keep them contained.

But… there were no feelings.

There were no butterflies, no heart palpitations, no feelings of breathlessness. All he felt was a deep sinking emptiness. Like his chest was completely void, his entire soul having been carved out of his body. His hand curled up into a fist, taking a deep breath to try and ground himself.

This was fine. Everything was fine. This was just how he felt after every encounter they had, he was used to it by now. He’d wanted it this way. Sure, Sektor wouldn’t say those three simple words back to him, but that was just what Sektor was like. He couldn’t say them, he couldn’t show affection because if anyone found out it would be seen as a weakness. Definitely not something the next Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei should be showing.

Yet Kuai could not deny that he craved it. He craved Sektor telling him he loved him. He craved soft touches and lazy mornings. Just the two of them holding each other close. Maybe if he was lucky, when Sektor became Grandmaster, he’d get what he wanted.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the hollowness and the tears that rolled down his cheeks, and imagined a future where he and Sektor did not have to hide anymore.

“From this day on, you shall be known as Tundra.”

Kuai bowed in respect towards Grandmaster Oniro, despite knowing full well this code name was yet another indication of all his deficiencies.

Tundra. Hardly the most intimidating of names, it sounded like it belonged to a cuddly puppy than a trained assassin. Maybe to some it would bring to mind harsh conditions and barren wilderness, but to Kuai Liang it just sounded… Soft. Like The Lin Kuei’s elders accused him of being far too often. They wanted him to be harsher, yet they gave him a name like that?

And the way Grandmaster Oniro looked at him, sneering and spiteful. As if this name was meant to twist in the knife representing the fact Kuai Liang would never be Sub Zero. He had accepted a long time ago that Bi-Han deserved the title far more than he ever would, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hurtful to have it thrown in his face. That he’d never be good enough to be Sub Zero, even if something were to happen to Bi-Han.

But what could he say? He couldn’t voice displeasure at the name, that would just earn him even more trouble. They could even take his name away from him. Even if Tundra was given to him as an insult, he’d still worked hard to earn the name, he couldn’t lose it now just because he wanted to be a spoilt brat about it.

And really, he should be thankful that Sektor hadn’t wormed his opinion in and ensured his codename was Snowstorm. As in love as he was with Sektor, sometimes the way the man made every action he took towards Kuai into some weird power play made Kuai’s skin crawl. So, at the very least, for now Sektor didn’t have that kind of control over his life.

What the fuck will it be like when Sektor becomes Grandmaster?

He pushed those feelings aside, straightening up from his bow and stating “I am honoured to be assigned my codename, Grandmaster.”

“As you should be,” the Grandmaster spoke in a condescending tone. “It took you far too long, but I will admit, you actually did a good job on the Benjamin Ward assignment. Maybe there is more to you than we initially thought.”

Kuai fought so fucking hard to not let his surprise show. The fact the Grandmaster even remotely acknowledged that Kuai had actually done something well was shocking. He had to remain passive however, he couldn’t let it show how much the praise actually meant to him. That’d be a good way to ensure he never received any recognition ever again.

“I hope to continue to prove my worth to you, Grandmaster.” He wasn’t stupid. He knew this would likely be the only time he’d ever get that kind of compliment on his work.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” the Grandmaster grumbled, and any high Kuai might have been feeling from the compliment went crashing down around him. “You still have a long way to go before I will accept we made the right choice in not executing you a long time ago.” Despite the urge to lower his head at that, Kuai kept it held high, knowing that the Grandmaster was saying these to get a reaction. “But, your bloodline is a prestigious one, and even one such as yourself could pass on your cryomancy genes to the next, and hopefully better, generation.”

Kuai almost bit his lip at that. Passing on my genes. He wondered how the Grandmaster would react if he knew that most likely wasn’t going to happen. Sektor had made it pretty clear to Kuai that once he became Grandmaster, his intent was to keep Kuai as his consort. And well…

Children between them wasn’t exactly possible, biologically speaking.

Though he supposed there were always other ways for him to have children. Not that Sektor would ever let him do those. He was far too possessive for anything like that.

“Regardless. The title is yours,” the Grandmaster continued, blissfully unaware that his son was fucking Kuai senseless most nights. “I do hope that I won’t come to regret giving it to you.”

“You won’t, Grandmaster.” Kuai bowed again, and the Grandmaster gave a rough sigh.

“You are dismissed, Tundra.”

Kuai didn’t stick around to be reprimanded for disobeying such a clear direction. He turned on his heel and made his way to the exit of the throne room. Once he stepped out into the corridor, shutting the large heavy doors behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. He’d made it through that with only a few hurt feelings. Despite his disappointment at himself, it could have gone so much worse.

A grey blur caught his eye, seconds before Tomas' face loomed in front of his own, hands grasping Kuai’s shoulders and eyes wide.

“Well? What happened? Are you okay? What did they want? Can I do anything to help, Kuai Liang?” The questions came at a mile a minute and Kuai almost laughed in poor Tomas face. It was nice though, that someone was concerned about him.

“I think you mean, can I do anything to help, Tundra,” Kuai corrected with a small grin, watching Tomas' face fall in confusion before it lit up in pure delight.

“You got your name?” He asked, and Kuai nodded in response. “Yes!”

Tomas suddenly grabbed Kuai around the waist, hauling him up into the air and spinning him around. Kuai giggled, even knowing that if anyone caught them they’d both get in trouble for it. Tomas seemed to remember himself and his surroundings, and quickly placed Kuai back on the ground.

“Sorry. I was excited,” he explained, reaching to brush his hair out of his face and revealing a bright red blush across his features.

“You seem more excited about it than I am,” Kuai joked, although really, Tomas did seem to be more elated by the news.

“So, how do you feel, Tundra?” Tomas asked gleefully, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet and grinning ear to ear. Kuai gave him a small smile, it was hard not to with the energy that Tomas was radiating.

“I’m proud,” he said shortly, hoping the sweet smile was enough to hide his real thoughts. I’m a failure.

“You should be,” Tomas cheered, throwing his arm around Kuai’s shoulders. He pulled Kuai close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “So, Cyrax and I were thinking about sneaking out later, and now we actually have something to celebrate, if you’re feeling like it.”

“Ah, you mean I get to break my first rule now I’m officially Tundra,” Kuai replied quietly, trying not to giggle too loudly. “You know I can’t resist that.”

“Great.” Tomas pulled Kuai into a small alcove. “We’re gonna slip out about 9pm, separately and then meet at the old watchtower. We’ll wait for about 20 minutes, so try not to be late.”

“Got it,” Kuai claimed with a grin.

Sure, he still felt useless, but at least he could try and put that aside by celebrating this minor achievement with two of his favourite people.

“Fucking take it, you slut!”

Kuai hissed as the man thrust inside him with speed and power. The man was holding Kuai’s wrists above his head with one hand, the other being used to occasionally grope and slap various parts of Kuai’s body. The problem was this man was obviously still holding back somewhat, and Kuai did not want that. He wanted to be absolutely ruined by this man.

He didn’t know the man’s name. He never knew the names of anyone he slept with, and he was just fine with that. In turn, they never knew his name either, in this setting he was exclusively known as either slut, or whore, or bitch. He made sure to find men who just wanted one night of rough no-holds-barred sex. One night where they could be as degrading as they wanted to be, because that’s exactly what Kuai Liang desired. He was tough enough to take anything they could throw at him.

Which is why it was annoying to him that this man was clearly holding back.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Kuai taunted, rolling his hips in time to the man’s thrust. When he saw the way the man’s face warped into displeasure, he knew he was about to get the reaction he wanted. “I can barely feel anything.”

The man responded by slamming the palm on his hand against Kuai’s face, hard enough to make Kuai’s head snap to one side.

Kuai laughed, “that’s more like it.”

“Fuck, you’re a masochist,” the man groaned, grabbing Kuai’s chin and forcing him to look at him again. “You really just want to be used as an object, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kuai replied with a dreamy sigh, a lewd moan escaping his lips as the man's cock hit his prostate. God he was so close, he just needed a little more.

The man pressed Kuai’s wrists harder against the mattress, free hand roaming Kuai’s body, now with renewed purpose. Feeling at Kuai’s pecs, the touch was far more demanding, hard enough that it could possibly leave marks or bruises. Plucking at Kuai’s nipples and stretching them far longer than he should have. Running his nails down Kuai Liang’s sides, hard enough that Kuai could feel blood bead from where the skin split. Occasionally returning to Kuai’s face to slap him again.

This is what he needed. This is what he deserved.

All it took was one more hard thrust and Kuai Liang was coming. He arched his back off the bed and groaned. The man didn’t stop though, just kept thrusting and chasing his own pleasure. It was only when he gave a loud groan that Kuai knew he’d also reached orgasm. There was no feeling of being filled, the condom made sure of that. He would forever be thankful to Cyrax for pulling him aside as a teenager and teaching him of the dangers sex could present. No one else would have done so.

The man jerked his hips back and forth a couple more times, Kuai could feel him growing soft inside him. Eventually, he released Kuai’s wrists, pulling out and away.

Kuai lowered his arms to cover his face, making a satisfied noise. It had taken some provoking, but he’d gotten what he wanted in the end. He smiled to himself, panting and really soaking in the afterglow. The pleasure was still there, deep in his stomach, even as various parts of him began to ache from the rough treatment. That just amplified the bliss for him.

He was brought out of his stupor when he heard the sound of fabric rustling. He brought his arms down and shifted onto his side, watching as the man collected his clothes off the floor and began to put them back on. Kuai pouted slightly.

“Not going to stay for a second round?” Kuai questioned, resting his head on his hand and giving the most smolderingly lustful look he could give at that moment.

The man gave a tut and replied with “fucking hell, a bit insatiable, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told.” And he had. By many of the men he’d brought back here. Thankfully a lot of them were as sexually hungry as he was, and were more than willing to go all night until Kuai just couldn’t physically handle any more.

“I have work in the morning,” the man explained, and Kuai couldn’t help but feel it was a weak excuse. Who goes out to a bar on a night they have to go to work? “So… Yeah.”

“Right. That's… fine.” He tried not to sound disappointed. He was, but he didn’t want it to show. It’d been a while since he found someone up for an all nighter, and he’d hoped this would be one. But hey. When exactly did Kuai ever get what he wanted? “Thanks for the night.”

“Uh. Yeah, you too.” The man finished putting his clothes on, doing an awkward half bow and half wave as he turned to leave out the door. Kuai watched him go, no point in chasing after someone who didn’t want to be there, especially someone Kuai had no intent on ever seeing again after that night.

But now, he was left alone in his room with only his thoughts for company.

And quite frankly, they tended to be fucking awful company.

He pushed himself onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling. The pleasant feeling in his body began to fade, and all that was left was the ache. His sides stung from where the man's nails had dug into his skin, his chest was tender from how hard the man had squeezed it, his wrists were red and starting to bruise, his cheek was throbbing. And god damn, his ass was sore, deep inside as well, not enough that he was concerned there was damage but enough that it was hard to ignore.

But… this was what I wanted right? To be held down and used like a sex toy. To have someone dominate him so completely. To be fucked so hard he couldn’t breathe or walk right for weeks.

So… why was that empty pit in his chest opening again? The same one he used to get with Sektor. Why did he just want one person to stay with him after the fact and make sure he was okay? That was such a selfish wish, wasn’t it? The world didn’t revolve around him, it was unfair of him to ask for more, especially from strangers.

He ran his hand down his chest, wincing slightly when his fingers hit something wet. He brought his hand up to look at the cum now lacing his fingertips. He just stared at it, his previous high coming crashing down around him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like the sex, he fucking loved it. At least, he loved it when it was happening. Yet somehow, every single time it was over, he was left feeling like this. Used, useless, craving for something more than the harsh hands he sought out. Something no one seemed to be able to give him. Something no one was willing to give him.

Maybe even something he would never receive.

He wanted to be loved. Some days he felt like his chest would burst from how much he wanted to love someone and have them return those feelings. Even now, after everything Sektor had put him through, he still fucking loved that bastard. But did Sektor love him back? Had Sektor ever loved him back?

Or was a sex toy all Kuai Liang could ever be to someone else?

His breathing hitched and his eyes began to sting. When he blinked to clear his eyes, he felt tears rolling down his face. This was so pathetic. He was a grown man crying over the fact no one would ever love him.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself, placing his palm against his forehead. “So stupid.”

He closed his eyes, chanting the words so stupid to himself like a fucked up lullaby, waiting for sleep to claim him so that maybe in the morning he wouldn’t feel like such a piece of shit.

If love really did exist, it was clear that it was something the Elder Gods did not intend for him to experience.

“Hey! Grandmaster Blueberry Ice!”

Kuai smirked to himself, eyes closed and lying on his back in the middle of The Lin Kuei’s training courtyard. There was only one person foolish enough to call him by that nickname.

“Hello Jonathan,” Kuai greeted, opening his eyes to see, indeed, Johnny standing over him and looking down with a large grin on his face. “Can I help you?”

Johnny was a creature of habit. One of those habits was giving people the most ridiculous nickname’s Kuai Liang had ever heard. He was the only person who could give people those nicknames and walk away alive too. Kuai would never admit out loud that he was beginning to become fond of the Blueberry Ice nickname. Johnny was still the only person he’d allow to call him it, however.

“Just coming to ask a bit of a favour from my favourite Cryomancer,” Johnny claimed and Kuai gave a sly smile.

“I’m your favourite Cryomancer?” He teasingly questioned. “Or are you just trying to butter me up to get me to go through with some stupid plan you’ve come up with?”

“Excuse you, when have I ever come up with a stupid plan and tried to rope you into it?” Johnny asked, placing his hand on his chest in mock offence.

“Do you really want the list?“ Kuai sighed, pushing himself to sit up, before scrambling to try and actually stand. Johnny held out a hand, and Kuai took it, the other man helping haul him off the floor. “What do you need?”

“So, y’know I’ve been putting together a team with Special Forces?” Johnny asked and Kuai hummed in confirmation. From what Johnny had told him, the team consisted of 4 recruits, and while it sounded like they still had a long way to go in terms of working as a team, they did have a lot of promise. “Well, I was thinking about setting up a little test for them. Just to see how they might handle a difficult situation.”

“And I’m guessing you want The Lin Kuei to be their test?” Kuai assumed, with an eyebrow raised.

“Exactly. But I’m thinking of making it look real to them, y’know. Say that we lost contact with you, and need them to investigate.” Something about that caught Kuai Liang’s attention.

“Are you sure this is a test?” Kuai tilted his head slightly, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Because it rather sounds like you’re asking me to help you prank them.”

“Well, it being a prank doesn’t negate it being a test, it can be both those things.” Johnny shrugged dramatically and stuck his tongue out, and Kuai quickly put a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. “So, what do you say? Wanna help me prank these kids?”

Kuai couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, shaking his head and saying “you son of a bitch, I’m in.”

“Great,” Johnny cheered, pumping his fist in excitement. “I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but it’ll be easier now I have you on board. I’ll let you know more as I know.”

“Well, why don’t we have a cup of tea and at least discuss some ideas.” Kuai gestured towards the temple.

“God that sounds good.” They both turned and began walking towards the temple, with Johnny bringing up his hands to his biceps and making a brring sound. “I always forget how fucking cold it is up here.” Johnny glanced Kuai up and down. “Doesn’t help you’re constantly walking around with your tits out.”

“Yes, well, I don’t feel the cold like you do,” Kuai said with a shrug. “I’ll light a fire for you, if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” As they stepped inside, Kuai glanced at Johnny to notice an evil grin emerging on his face. “Speaking of fire…” Before Johnny could continue Kuai groaned, knowing exactly what was coming next. “How’s the Alliance with the Shirai Ryu doing?”

“It’s going well.” Kuai rubbed the back of his head, he wasn’t stupid enough to think the alliance was what Johnny was genuinely interested in. “Hanzo still seems a bit skittish around me, but it’s getting easier I suppose.”

“Uh huh,” Johnny drawled, closing his eyelids slightly and placing a hand on his chin. “So… You still haven’t told him yet, huh?”

Kuai choked on the air, face growing hot. Even knowing it was coming, the discussion of that particular topic still managed to get him flustered.

“No,” Kuai squeaked, hoping they wouldn’t run into any of his students. He didn’t exactly need them seeing him acting like a shy school girl over his crush. “I- I mean, it just seems like a bad idea, especially right now.”

“Is it a bad idea because you don’t think Hanzo will be able to handle your feelings, or a bad idea because you still have hang ups on if you deserve to be loved?” God damn, Johnny knew exactly which hard hitting questions to ask, and more importantly, how to ask them in a way that didn’t mean Kuai felt like he wanted to run for the hills rather than answer.

“A little of both, I guess.” He opened the door to his private quarters, stepping aside to let Johnny in first. He followed and shut the door behind him. “If there’s something that’s very clear to me, it’s that Hanzo very much still loves Harumi, and I do not wish to do anything that would get in the way of his grief.” He paused and sighed, “and well… You already know about the second one.”

“Okay. I am going to let you off this once, cause I agree that Grandmaster Grumpy Face is probably not ready for a new relationship.” Johnny reached forward and gently patted his shoulder. “But I do think you need to tell him how you feel at some point. Because otherwise, those feelings are just gonna eat you alive, and it’ll just get harder to say as time goes by.” Johnny gave him a smile. “And despite what you think, you do deserve to be happy, Kuai Liang.”

Kuai nodded, and smiled slightly. Really his feelings for Hanzo were new and, for the first time in his life, terrifying. He wanted love so badly, but he felt so guilty even thinking of asking that of Hanzo. Then there was that scary thought that even if Hanzo did accept his feelings, it would just end up how it did in the past. Mindless sex with little to no emotion. Kuai Liang giving his all and wearing his heart on his sleeve just for it to be stomped all over.

He didn’t truly believe that Hanzo would be so cruel and callous with him, yet there was a traitorous part of his mind that whispered “but what if he is?”

“I will keep that in mind.” He would, he supposed. One day he’d have to get over his fears. But for now, he could push it away. That was something for future Kuai Liang to worry about. “I’ll get the fire started.”

The conversation thankfully returned back to the subject of the test. Still, even as Johnny and he discussed the details, there was a part of Kuai thinking about Hanzo, and wondering if there really was any possibility that he could be with him.

“I love you, Snowflake.”

Kuai did not stifle his moans as Hanzo kissed along his neck. He was on his back, being gently pressed against the mattress by Hanzo’s body. The pressure was just right, he didn’t feel like he was being smothered, it was more reassuring than that.

One of Hanzo’s hands was on the side of Kuai’s face, the other hooked under one of Kuai’s legs, lifting it up. Kuai’s hands were wrapped around Hanzo’s torso, resting on Hanzo’s back and pushing him closer. Holding him like if he didn’t he’d just disappear from his arms. Another kiss, sucked into the skin of Kuai’s neck reassured him that would not happen.

Hanzo thrusted his hips, gently but expertly aimed. Hitting Kuai’s sweet spot exactly and making his toes curl. He whined, rolling his hips a little to meet Hanzo’s own movements. Everything about this felt amazing, the way Hanzo stretched him out, the way he managed to hit that bundle of nerves every time. Hanzo’s lips were still practically glued to Kuai’s neck, showering him with kisses.

“Hanzo,” Kuai breathed out, arching his back and closing his eyes. “Hanzo.” The name came from his lips like he was giving a sermon. This experience was holy, sacred and Kuai Liang never wanted to stop feeling this way.

Their sex could get rough, they had fun figuring out their shared kinks. But even then it was different from the experiences he’d had before. Hanzo cared about his comfort, it was important to him to know exactly how Kuai was feeling throughout. And when everything was over? He never just left Kuai Liang to deal with the aftermath alone. He was there, doting on Kuai, spoiling him and showering him with adoration.

But then there were nights like this. Nights where there were no harsh touches or words. Only softness that frightened Kuai Liang at first for how foreign it was to him. He was so used to roughness that Hanzo being gentle, like Kuai Liang may break in his hands if he weren’t, was something he was genuinely unsure of at first. Could someone like him be gentle? Did he deserve it?

As Hanzo reached down between their torsos, gripping Kuai’s cock firmly and stroking, Kuai decided he no longer cared if he deserved this or not. This was wonderful, everything Hanzo did was wonderful, and he knew that he would be addicted to the other man's touch for the rest of his life. He couldn’t live without him.

“Hanzo,” Kuai gasped out desperately, fingers working his cock so wonderfully. “Please.”

“Let go, Kuai Liang,” Hanzo whispered in his ear, thumb reaching the head of his cock to circle it.

Kuai couldn’t hold back any longer, he gasped loudly as he came, closing his eyes as the pleasure flowed through him in waves. Hanzo continued to stroke him, helping him chase the aftershocks of pleasure. He knew throughout it all, his hole clenched around Hanzo’s cock, and given how snappy his thrusts were getting, it wouldn’t be long before he was coming too.

Hanzo desperately searched for Kuai’s lips, locking with his own, muffling his own loud moan. Kuai Liang could feel himself being filled, and god, it felt so weird how much of a blissful experience it was. Knowing that even once Hanzo pulled out, that part of him was still deep inside. That meant so much to Kuai in a way not even he could comprehend.

Hanzo broke the kiss, only to pepper a few more light pecks across Kuai’s face. Another display of affection that Kuai Liang adored. He giggled, even as he felt Hanzo remove himself. There was a very brief spike of panic, the fear this would be the day that Hanzo just up and left him. It was quickly snuffed out, when Hanzo’s hands cupped his face.

“Are you well, love?” Hanzo asked, and Kuai almost cried that such a small action made his heart sing.

“I am, thank you.” Kuai lent up to give Hanzo another quick kiss. “Thank you.”

Hanzo chuckled, clearly holding back from telling Kuai that he didn’t have to thank him. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

He moved off the bed, before scooping Kuai up in his arms. Kuai wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s neck, partially for stability, and partially because it helped him feel closer. Hanzo navigated the room, quickly reaching the ensuite bathroom. He carefully placed Kuai down in the tub, running the taps.

“I’ll get the soaps.” Hanzo stood up to go and walk over to the cabinet. He called over his shoulder. “Is there anything else you desire?”

“Could I have some mochi ice cream? Chocolate flavour, of course.” He felt a little silly about the clarification. But Hanzo didn’t say anything, just gave a small amused sigh.

“You can have anything you wish for, Snowflake.”

Snowflake. Hanzo had several pet names for Kuai, but Snowflake was the one that always stood out to Kuai. It felt so much more personal than any of the others.

Kuai thought back at the various names he’d been called over the years. He’d always just accepted them, never really thought about it. Most of the time, the reason for the name was obvious. And while he could think of at least one reason for it, the curiosity on if there was more to Snowflake than he realised was all too much.

“Hanzo,” Kuai softly spoke to get his lover's attention. Hanzo looked over his shoulder, still trying to get out the things he wanted for the bath. “Why do you call me Snowflake?”

Hanzo’s face dropped a little, and in a worried tone he asked “do you not like being called that?”

“Oh, I love it,” Kuai assured him, holding his hands up as if to try and reassure Hanzo. “I was just curious if there was a particular reason for it.” He tilted his head. “Other than it being winter related, that is.”

“I see.” Hanzo finished grabbing what he needed from the cabinet, walking over to place them by the side of the bath. “Well, I guess I call you that, because snowflakes remind me of you.” Hanzo knelt down on the floor beside him. “They float through the air so gracefully, like you on the battlefield. They are delicate, and yet so strong in the right circumstance. They have a tendency to bring delight to those who witness them. Your mere presence in the world changes it. Everyone is different and unique, just as you are amongst our peers.” Hanzo looked straight into Kuai Liang’s eyes and smiled softly as he answered with “and most importantly… They are beautiful, as are you.”

Kuai hiccupped. There they were, the butterflies. There were tears in his eyes, but this time, they were good ones. Even now, the way Hanzo talked about him left him feeling like his heart genuinely could beat from his chest. He was not used to it, and he hoped he never would be just so he could never take Hanzo’s love for granted.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked, placing his hand on Kuai’s cheek carefully. Obviously the tears were concerning him.

“I’m wonderful.” Kuai smiled, letting Hanzo see that it was just overwhelming happiness flowing through him. He reached forward himself, placing his hand on Hanzo’s cheek in turn. “You are wonderful.” He lent forward, pressing his lips to Hanzo’s. When he felt the other man kiss him back, he couldn’t help the exhale from his nose. He wrapped his hands around Hanzo’s neck, resting his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, and he happily sighed “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanzo replied, his own hands now reaching to cradle Kuai gently. “I am so grateful that you are mine.”

Somehow, all those years of dreaming could not prepare Kuai Liang for how this felt. It wasn’t everything he imagined. No. It was better than anything he’d thought possible for him.

To love, and be loved in return.

Maybe the Elder Gods were smiling down on him after all.

#hurtcomfortbingo #mortal kombat #subscorp #seksub #kuai liang #sub zero #scorpion #hanzo hasashi #sektor #mk sektor #🫧hurt and comfort bingo

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kellinrk800 · 4 years

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toko fukawa comphet no i don’t take criticism

nobody will even see this because my account just. doesnt get traction but here have a ramble abt toko’s backstory and how much i firmly believe her attraction was comphet.

spoilers for thh, sdr2 and udg

tw// ab/se, n/glect, severe bullying

toko was severely neglected and unwanted when she was a child. she grew up with two mothers and one father due to both sleeping with the same man and neither wanting their child which caused her to be mistreated. once she was locked in a closet and forced to stay there for three days without food. clearly, she grew up in a household completely devoid of healthy love. genocide jack’s development was likely a response to cope with the traumatic experiences.

her time in elementary was no different. in third grade, she was used as a scapegoat for stolen money and her classmates tied her to the jungle gym with a garden hose as punishment.

her first real “love” was with a boy who she had been friends with since elementary but when she finally confessed through a letter, she found it pinned to the bulletin board to mock her. this was genocide jack’s first kill, leading me to believe that her murders were actually a form of protection.

on one occasion (and most likely more considering her difficult relationship with understanding rejection) she was ghosted halfway through on a date after spending three days and nights planning it so that she would not mess it up. she later found out that the boy only asked her out because he lost a bet.

the most likely only healthy representation of love she ever has was through media, which is arguably extremely heteronormativity and the actual healthiness of how relationships are presented in media is debatable.

she internalised all of these things happening to her and believed she deserved them somehow, building her inferiority complex. she began to assume that people only expected bad of her and self victimises herself almost on instinct despite her nature to express opinions without care for others most of the time. her self esteem is extremely low and she often worries about being considered an “old hag” in ultra despair girls.

toko fell in love with the idea of love, not an actual person. at some point she turned to novels and writing as a way to express her emotions and she used that passion to create works of art through her novels and created a toxic idolisation of the perfect relationship with nothing but media, her family’s relationships and her past experiences to go off.

she began to let herself get hurt and internalise it which ended up building her inferiority complex even further to the point of becoming unhealthily infatuated with anyone she saw fit as a stand in for the dreamy perfect people that made her books succeed.

time and time again genocide jack and toko were mistreated in their relationships, causing their system to suffer greatly. jack began to kill anyone toko saw fit as a perfect romantic interest to protect them both, but this most likely caused her own mental health to decline as well, leading to the aggressive, startling and manic personality we saw in the games.

toko began to both idolise and fear falling in love. while she knew they would most likely be killed and she would have to cope with knowing that the police could come knocking any day if they put the pieces together, she also still purposed her life around being in a perfect relationship because it was now causing her to gain traction through her novels.

this only furthered her unhealthy infatuation with relationships. she became determined to find a man who fit her description of the perfect man and would not mislead, use, mock or hurt toko in hopes that he would not be killed and she would finally achieve her dream.

enter byakuya togami. blonde, blue eyed, rich, cold and most importantly, entirely unattainable. he was an ideal stand in, especially considering the circumstances of the killing game (jack’s unique killing style would immediately be found out). she was able to fantasise from afar without ever really getting as severely hurt as she had in the past because he simply did not care to provide her his attention.

jack had two options. kill byakuya and get executed, or suck it up. clearly you can tell which option she chose. in addition, she had all of her memories from prior to the game which most likely slightly numbed her thirst for blood. by the end of ultra despair girls, she has grown a respect for toko, a softness for komaru and even calmed jack down to the point where it’s suggested that she no longer uses her skills to murder but instead fight despair.

in fact, near the end, toko is acutely aware of what is happening despite the fact jack was fronting (they don’t usually share memories, only emotions), suggesting they may have slightly integrated but i don’t really want to make assumptions considering i do not have did and am not educated enough to speak confidently about did.

ironically, the killing game was actually good for both of their mental health’s. i’ll only be talking about toko but in ultra despair girls she was emotionally stronger and more mature. she believed she finally had a purpose other than romance and that she could fight against all odds. she even credits makoto for her newfound courage. she criticises cowards and those that remind her of her past self. she is willing to challenge her fears.

komaru had an amazingly powerful and positive effect on them both. her softness, optimism and empathy help toko’s character develop even further. when komaru tries to give in to despair, toko encourages her to face her fears. toko, who was before extremely afraid and uncomfortable with being touched, is now willing to comfort and even hug komaru. she claims she’s finally found a true friend (that’s actually human, can’t forget kameko the stinkbug) and that she found hope in her.

komaru admires toko and doesnt really mind her split personality, instead just considering it “a bit strange”, which is a noticeable difference from how she was treated by everyone else for it. toko is protective of komaru during chapter two due to her suspicion of shirokuma. later, they even sleep in the same bed.

however, when toko risks komaru’s life for byakuya, they get into an argument in which toko accuses komaru of manipulating her with terms such as “friends”, which leads to komaru showing that she really does trust her.

later, this arguably resolved after servant forces jack and toko to fight against komaru for byakuya. they fight back against servant and komaru forgives her because they are friends, which makes toko extremely happy, so much that she blushed and admits she has never had a real friend before. she thanks komaru genuinely for the first time and they try to become real friends.

toko swears she will help komaru with anything she can’t do by herself, just like komaru would do for her.

toko even stays by her side to the point of rejecting the opportunity of going to future foundation to stay with komaru :)

in the end of danganronpa goodbye despair, which is set after ultra despair girls, kyoko reminds byakuya that someone is waiting for him and he jokes that she shouldn’t remind him of “something so horrifying”. and honestly i think the fact he was able to joke about it shows that perhaps toko and byakuya found a somewhat healthy relationship as friends, acquaintances, or even just bearing eachother’s presence.

a notable addition that didn’t really fit anywhere else is toko’s scrapped execution. “first kiss prank” is the title and it consists of byakuya running towards her before toko gets hit by a roller. that says enough about her biggest fears and how badly her past memories affected her.

in conclusion, toko fukawa’s obsession with byakuya was comphet due to pressure from the media and her toxic ideals. the fact she was able to form a healthy relationship with komaru is hhh and i could talk about them for hours. tokomaru is the second closest thing we have to inmedia stated canon (fuck kodaka’s statement me and the homies hate kodaka’s statement about naegiri /j)

sources: toko fukawa’s fandom wiki, genocide jack’s fandom wiki, free time events, transcripts

#danganronpa #toko fukawa #fukawa toko #touko fukawa #fukawa touko #tokomaru #syomaru #toukomaru #trigger happy havoc #ultra despair girls #character analysis #in which i am unhealthy obsessed with toko fukawa

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Note

hello!! may i please request hc's for Asa Emory with a trans (ftm) s/o who has a disorganized attachment style, and how Asa would go about helping him? tysm!!!

Asa Emory/The Collector x Trans!Male!Reader w/ a Disorganized Attachment Style | Headcanons

Hi there! :) I really hope you like these and that they're somewhat like what you've imagined. Hope you enjoy them, thank you so much for requesting this! <3

notes; Trans!Male!Reader (FtM); Mentions of Gender Dysphoria; Disorganized Attachment Style; Unstable Relationship; Fear of Rejection; Self-Sabotaging; Low Self-Esteem; Arguments; Therapy Mention; Asa being a surprisingly great BF.

Reblogs > Likes. Thank you!

Asa Emory/The Collector

While you were still just silently crushing on him, you were torn between wanting to be with him, asking him out, etc. and wishing you’d never met him at all

Eventually, he was the one, who took you out on a date first and the euphoria you felt upon being wanted by the man of your desires overshadowed everything else

But once the honeymoon-phase of your blossoming relationship has worn down, you also started feeling too many things at once in regards to being with Asa

On one hand, you’re happy to be in a relationship with him – it’s what you wanted, after all; but on the other hand you dreaded it – a deep-rooted fear of rejection taking hold of you

Because that’s the thing that hinders you from having fulfilling relationships with anybody, be that romantic or platonic – you were just so scared all the time; you weren’t worth their time and attention; they were bound to hurt you anyway; they would leave you eventually – it was only a matter of time

Such thoughts and feelings certainly couldn’t be suppressed for too long and eventually, it shows and you tend to become unpredictable to Asa – sometimes, you would cling unto him, wanting him to love you so deeply and thoroughly; and other times, you would push him away (verbally as also physically), trying to get rid of him one way or another

Of course, this kind of behaviour causes issues between you two and Asa tries to tickle the reasoning for all of this out of you several times; but it scares you to open up to anybody like this – it’s not as though you really understand it yourself anyway

One time, he is as blunt as ever and asks if it has to do with your gender identity and if your dysphoria makes you think that he doesn’t want you – and in a way, it’s certainly a part of why you’re so scared, so you affirm his suspicion

Thus, he makes sure to let you know that he likes you just the way you are – you are far more interesting this way anyway and he’s never seen you as any less than a real man, no matter what

Unfortunately, of course, that doesn’t solve everything; although it at least helps to make you feel more secure in your identity, but not the relationship with him

One day, it all comes to a head and you threaten to leave him before he does, you yell at him, push him away, you’re aggressive and desperate, you’re screaming and crying and you tell him you hate him – it confuses him, it even angers him, and he gets dressed to go out

That’s when you break entirely, begging him not to leave you; after all, you love him and you want to be with him, but you’re just so scared and you don’t know what to do; you’re confused by what’s going on inside of you and you want his affection, but it also makes your skin crawl and alarm bells ring in your head

He calms you down, then, patiently comforting you to the best of his abilities and once you’ve come down, you two talk it out

After that, he helps you seek out therapy to get proper treatment because he doesn’t think that you’re alone with this and there’s got to be a way to help you come to terms with everything and be in a healthy, loving relationship without yourself trying to sabotage it

It’s a start to a long process of healing from past traumas and finding healthy coping mechanisms, such as strategies to regulate yourself whenever you feel yourself starting to spiral like that, again

Throughout it all, Asa supports you – he’s unyielding and rarely lets it get to him when you end up lashing out at him and pushing him away; now he knows why you do it and he’s patient with you

He loves you, you’re his favourite and he wants to keep you alive and around, wants to love you the way you deserve it and assure you when you need it; and so he makes sure to learn how to do it properly, adjusting it to your specific needs, never relenting – you’re his boyfriend, his partner, his better half (quite literally) and he does everything in his power and more to make you see it, too

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 1

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: spencer makes a confession as you’re doing dishes together. this is from a prompt list but i can’t find it :( 1633 words. part 2

a/n: this was originally a poe dameron thing but i started thinking about it with spencer and then there were tears streaming down my face then i wrote it

Your favourite memories with the team are always those where you really feel like a family. Most days these are only fleeting moments, less than five minute conversations filled with banter and affectionate insults, but there are times, like now, where you’re all sat around Rossi’s dinner table with too much wine and too much pasta (although there is no such thing), and you feel like you might cry from happiness.

You’re a family.

The downside to being a family is you get treated like a family member, meaning when you and Spencer are assigned to clean dishes, dry them and put them away, you sulk to the kitchen just like you did when you were eleven and your younger sibling got out of helping by claiming he has too tired.

At least you can stare at Spencer as you do it.

In the kitchen, you’re working in perfect harmony – you, elbow deep in somehow tolerable hot water, scrubbing away at the bowls and plates stained with pasta sauce, and Spencer who methodically dries said bowls and plates with a worrying amount of scrutiny.

Right before you open your mouth to ask him if he’s okay, Spencer speaks.

“What do you think of love?”

Huh. Didn’t expect that.

“Love is… is good, I guess.”

You’re not sure what to say, or what he wants you to say. There’s obviously an answer he’s looking for, but you’re not sure you can provide it.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Your brows furrow. The question catches you off guard and your hand freezes mid-wipe. Why is he asking you this? It’s not that you’re not close with Spencer, cause you are, but you feel ill-equipped for this conversation. You wish you could somehow swap positions with Hotch, or Rossi, maybe Derek. Or Emily! Anyone, except you.

“I don’t think so, no, Spence.”

He grimaces.

“Why?”

“Well, because-cause…” He pauses and grits his teeth, as if the words are painful to force out, “I want to love someone and be loved.”

The confusion shines brightly in your eyes, “You are loved, Spence. Everyone in our unit would do anything for you, you know that. I’d go so far as to say you’re the favourite, probably the most loved person in the BAU.”

“No. No.” He shakes his head, “I want someone to love me. Romantically. Not Dr Spencer Reid of the BAU, notorious rambler and know-it-all who’s exceptionally good at pissing people off. I want them to love me – Spencer – the guy who is a technophobe, a pretty bad shot, and secretly wants to be a cowboy. The guy who has a recurring dream that Morgan forces me into a room where I’m plunged into darkness and Doctor Who is playing but it’s in a language I don’t understand. I don’t.. I don’t want someone that’ll make me feel like a baby, like the team sometimes does, you know? I think I’d be a great partner and I just… I just want someone to share something with. Something good, something pure, in this job where we face evil and demise every day.”

You’re in stunned silence when he makes eye contact, hands stilled mid-air as you gape at him.

“Sorry. Totally unloaded a lot of emotional stuff on you there – my bad. Uhh..” He clears his throat.

The air becomes awkward as you figure out how to reply. You flounder. You don’t know what to follow that speech with. It almost feels like the right time to admit your feelings for him, but a second later you realise this conversation sounds a lot like one you’d have with someone you definitely do not have feelings for. You’re just a consultation, you’re not the end goal. Suddenly, you wish you had been assigned to clearing the table rather than washing up.

Swallowing what feels like pure acid, you begin, “That’s sweet, Spence. Genuinely. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting that.” You want to reach out and touch him, but your hands are now submerged in water, and touching him might break you. “So what’s stopping you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s stopping you from getting that?” You ask. “I’ve seen you. When you put your mind to it, you can be preeeetty smooth with the ladies. Remember the magic trick you did for that one girl?” Spencer gives a small, shy smile, “Exactly! So what’s stopping you?”

Spencer looks like a deer in headlights. What is stopping him? He’s proud to say his confidence has exponentially grown since joining the BAU. When he started, his self-esteem was non-existent, but times passed and he’s grown to accept himself the way he is. It helps that you’ve been there, cheering him on and showering him in compliments whenever he starts to doubt himself. Initially, Spencer thought you were doing it just to get on his good side, maybe build some good karma, but somewhere along the line he started to somewhat agree with you. The compliments never ceased.

“Well,” He starts, “I’m picky.”

You scoff, “Yeah, if I was you, I’d be picky.”

You turn and squirt some dish soap into the sink, smiling when Spencer laughs, “What does that mean?!”

“You know what it means! I always say you could be a ladies man if you truly put your mind to it, and I stand by that. You’re a ten out of ten on a bad day so, yeah, you should be picky. I’m tempted to say no one is worthy, but I’ve already inflated your ego too much.”

He grins at your teasing and licks his lips, “There is one person.”

“Oh?” You ask, interest piqued. You ignore the pang in your heart.

“Yeah. She’s really cool. It’s kind of terrifying.”

You giggle at that. There’s a warmth to Spencer’s words, and you realise whoever this girl is is super fucking lucky. He’s completely and utterly smitten and she doesn’t even know it. You kind of hate her.

“So are you gonna tell her?” You ask.

He shrugs, “I guess so. Should I?”

Finally done with the washing up, you move to put the dried plates into their cupboards. With a quizzical look, you say, “You’re really asking me that? Yes, you should tell her.”

“Would you tell her?”

“God, no.”

“What?!”

“I’m shy when it comes to that stuff! I’d rather ferment my feelings and then tell myself to get over it and never think of it again.”

“Sounds healthy.”

You grin, turning to lean against the counter next to Spencer, “I would tell her if I was you, though. You’re sweet, attractive, and you have more than just your looks going for you. If I was you and got rejected I’d be like… okay, cool. I’ll just go bang every one of your friends, then.”

Spencer guffaws, “You’d what?!”

“I’m kidding!” You laugh, a hearty laugh at his expression. The pure shock and borderline disgust makes you oddly proud. It’s a rare reaction from Spencer.

He rolls his eyes but still smiles. His eyes lock on your face and you can’t pinpoint what emotion is pouring out of them, but it’s so strong that it shoots panic through you. You quickly turn and pick up as many glasses as you can, manoeuvring to the opposite side of the kitchen.

You can’t be thinking about him like that if he’s about to admit his feelings for someone else.

“So, you gonna tell her?” You try to sound nonchalant, but you can’t deny you’re unbelievably curious.

Spencer hums, but still sounds unsure, “I think I will.”

“If she’s as great as you think she is, no matter her response she’ll handle it well. Otherwise, she wasn’t worth your time anyway.”

Behind your back, Spencer barely contains a gentle smile and thinks, yeah, you are pretty great.

“What did you say?” You swing around to face him.

Spencer straightens up and furiously dries the last bowl, “What?”

“You mumbled something.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

You’re visibly bemused but don’t say anything. Spencer opens his mouth to speak, maybe tell you what he should’ve a while ago, when Emily comes sliding in.

“Garcia has had too much wine and I’m one glass away from joining her. Y/N, are you ready to head home?”

You roll your eyes and nod. In hindsight, you’re glad that you refused the big glass of wine Rossi initially offered you because you knew this would happen and you’d be taking drunk girls home. “Yeah, all good. Spence, is it okay if I leave you to put the last few dishes away?”

Spencer nods eagerly and glances at Emily when she sways, “No problem. Drive safe.”

You mumble a thanks and move to the living room to collect your bag. Garcia is splayed across the biggest couch and you can’t help but aww at her sleeping form. Just an hour ago she was giving a sermon on why Hotch is the best dad and how that translates to the bedroom (why did no one stop her), and now she looks at peace with the world in the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever seen. Then she chokes, snorts, and springs upright with a loud “Derek!” and you jump back at her volume. When she sees you, she looks like she’s found the cutest kitten and makes grabby hands, asking for a hug.

Yeah, it’s time to go home.

Just before you leave Rossi’s house, you turn to Spencer and shout across, “Good luck, Spence!”

Morgan turns to Spencer and silently asks what? And Spencer barely acknowledges him, “I’ve got big plans for tomorrow.”

“Big plans, huh?” Morgan teases.

“Yeah. Big plans, big payoff, and all that.”

Looking over your shoulder, you give one final wave after tying Garcia to her seat.

Spencer wonders if you realise you’re his big plan.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #uhhhh this has been edited so many times and i hate it and can't bear to look at it anymore #so if theres mistakes look away

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little-chattes · 3 years

Text

Ok so I’ve done a complete re-read through and one thing that kept nagging at me was how little Gideon and Harrow’s relationship makes sense given its quite frankly abusive origins. Harrow spends her whole life making Gideon’s a living hell and Gideon just… forgives her. Total and complete forgiveness for an irredeemable girl.

At first I took the sudden shift in their relationship as lazy writing to rush along the end of the story, but that didn't make any sense either. Muir strikes me as an intensely purposeful writer. Then I remembered that Muir is also an intensely Catholic writer and it hit me. Muir isn’t writing a story about a healthy human relationship, oh no, she’s writing a story about Christ’s relationship with The Church… if Christ was a sword toting butch lesbian and The Church was a sardonic bone witch. Call it tender blasphemy.

Now Gideon’s role as a Christ figure is fairly easy to parse out given that her dad is… God. But for the sake of self indulgence (I have to put my 15 year long flirtation with Christianity to use somehow) I’m going to go through all the parallels anyway. There are a LOT of them.

Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

Miraculous Conception

Luke 1:34-38

34 But Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I [e]am a virgin?” 35 The angel answered and said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; for that reason also the [f]holy Child will be called the Son of God.

Gideon is conceived by artificial means when one of God’s own servants (Mercy) delivers a sample of John’s genetic material to Wake, a ‘normal’ human woman who chooses to carry Gideon in her womb. Notably, the sample lives far beyond its point of expected viability, thus making the conception somewhat miraculous (“Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact” HTN 441).

The Cuckold

Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the [a]Messiah was as follows: when His mother Mary had been [b]betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, since he was a righteous man and did not want to disgrace her, planned to [c]send her away secretly.

Gideon the First decides not to kill his lover, Wake, and releases her out the airlock (AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE SAW ME AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME” from Harrow’s vision of Wake’s note, HTN 124) just as Joseph took pity on Mary, his betrothed, by deciding to divorce her quietly instead of making her infidelity public which would condemn her to death by public stoning (Deuteronomy 22:21). Gideon the First knew that Wake was pregnant and didn’t tell John because he thought the baby was his. Similarly, Joseph goes on to raise Jesus as his own son.

The Birth

Luke 2:7

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a [f]manger, because there was no [g]room for them in the inn.

Neither baby Jesus nor baby Gideon were given a proper cradle, one being laid to rest in a manger where the animals ate and the other stuffed in a transplant bio-container (GTN 23).

The Dead Children

16 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

King Herod intends to kill the prophesied King of the Jews and instead of finding the specific baby, he just has a bunch of them slaughtered. However, Jesus escapes the slaughter of the innocents by Herod when his parents secret him away to Egypt.

When the great aunts gas the nursery and kill the 200, Gideon is meant to die along with them but escapes her fate.

Now this event has a completely different biblical connotation for Harrow.

Firstly, the murder of the 200 children represents Original Sin. In the bible, Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, and as their descendants, all of humankind is doomed to also bear the weight of that sin from the moment we are born until the day we die. This is a fact that is drilled into Christians as soon as we’re able to understand it, we are born wretched and unworthy sinners, and there’s nothing we can do ourselves to fix that.

“I have tried to dismantle you, Gideon Nav! The Ninth House poisoned you, we trod you underfoot—I took you to this killing field as my slave—you refuse to die, and you pity me! Strike me down. You’ve won. I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”

Harrow is a multitude, she is 200 children, the entire future of her house. Shes not just one human being,, she’s the whole damn church.

Naz/Nav

he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

Although Gideon is not from the Ninth, she is given the Ninth name Nav when she arrives as a baby. Similarly, Jesus is known as Jesus of Nazareth, though that is not where he was born.

The Poor Bondservant

Jesus' role as a servant is emphasized many times in the bible. He was a carpenter's son born in a stable

Philippians 2:5-8

Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

Gideon is described as being made “a very small bondswoman” (GTN 24)

The Sword

Matthew 10:34

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

The Wretched Sinner

Harrow is wretched, self loathing, and cruel.

She is in thrall of the enemy of god, a figure who was once gods most favoured warrior, cast into hell.

She is like the depiction of the sinner who loves the devil

It's important to note that Harrow isn’t a single person, she is a multitude, the entire future of her people condensed into one body.

The Enemy of God

20 Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, nholding in his hand the key to othe bottomless pit1 and a great chain. 2 And he seized pthe dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and qbound him for a thousand years, 3 and threw him into othe pit, and shut it and rsealed it over him, so that she might not deceive the nations any longer, until the thousand years were ended. After that he must be released for a little while.

Before the fall, Satan was described as a “guardian cherub” who resided in the garden with God (Ezekiel 28:14)

(a funny aside, in the bible the devil is known as the great deceiver but in HTN Muir specifies that Alecto is incapable of lying)

A Life of Abuse

Isaiah 53:3

"He was despised and rejected by mankind,

a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces

he was despised, and we held him in low esteem”

They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff" (Luke 4:28–29).

Gideon lives a life of mockery and is abused by Harrow.

An Unlikely Savior

Despite the fact that Gideon does not fit the expected image of a Cavalier, Harrow chooses Gideon to be her sword and protector.

Despite the many openings Gideon has to make Harrow pay for the pain she caused her, she remains loyal to her

Trust

Harrow realizes that she cannot face the lyctor trials without Gideon, and places her trust in her

Christians are told they must place their trust in jesus in order to reach salvation

Purifying Water

Acts 2:38

Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Harrow confesses her sins to Gideon and puts herself at her mercy

Gideon forgives Harrow totally and completely, she baptises her

One Flesh

Mark 10:8

and the two shall become one flesh; so they are no longer two, but one flesh.

“The imagery and symbolism of marriage is applied to Christ and the body of believers known as the church. The church is comprised of those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as their personal Savior and have received eternal life. Christ, the Bridegroom, has sacrificially and lovingly chosen the church to be His bride” (x)

Ephesians 5:25-26

25 gHusbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and hgave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by ithe washing of water jwith the word,

They take the vow of necro and cav, one flesh one end

Gideon’s forgiveness of Harrow is reaffirmed

Harrow risks her life to stay and fight with Gideon, even if it means her death and thus the destruction of her death. Her love for Gideon is now greater than her love for the Body.

The Sacrifice

John 19:34

Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.

They will look on the one they have pierced'" (John 19:36–37).

Gideon chooses to die for Harrow, death by piercing

and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

In order to complete the lyctor process, Harrow both physically and spiritually consumes Gideon

Because of Gideon’s sacrifice, Harrow attains eternal life at the right hand of god

The Tomb

The Resurrection

1On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus

Harrow turns her body into a tomb for Gideon, a tomb fashioned after that on the Ninth

Resurrection on the Third Day

Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. Luke 24:46-47

“So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier: it was the morning of the third day—and all the back of her brain could say, in exquisite agonies of amazement, was: She is dead. I will never see her again.” (HTN 374)

Just in case you missed this important piece of information, Muir repeats it three times.

Go, and tell them, then, that he that was dead is alive, and lives for evermore, and has the keys of death and the grave,"

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sepublic · 4 years

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Gus Porter and Amity Blight

It’s fascinating, really… Writing about Gus and the Blight Twins interacting, I realized more and appreciated just how similar Gus and Amity are, while still being different- Like two sides of the same coin! Which ties back to another post I made, giving Gus the elemental motif of Water, which led to my speculation on how this might character a relationship with Amity and her Fire (amidst Gus being a counter to Boscha’s Fire).

Gus and Amity are both precocious kids, sure… There’s this idea that they DO enjoy learning, and have a family lineage they’re ‘proud’ of. These kids are intelligent, and they come across as confident… But admittedly, there’s a bit of loneliness, of not being heard/taken seriously. But despite having more family members, Amity’s loneliness was a lot more damaging and potent, and her issues of not being heard came from her family members dismissing Amity herself! Whilst with Gus, this mostly came from his peers, who were older than him anyway and thus had more ‘reason’ to underestimate the kid.

Not to mention, Gus and Perry clearly get along, because even if Gus DOES have some insecurity, here or there… He IS a person and so of course he’s going to have ‘flaws’, just like anyone else! Not to downplay them or anything of course. But it’s obvious that ultimately, Gus is happy, confident, and self-assured, and he knows who he is and doesn’t have to hide it, or be different from it despite being an Illusionist… In contrast to Amity, who clearly isn’t happy with who she is, feels like she has to make up for it, and wears a ‘mask’.

Gus uses his Illusions to bolster, to show off, and to enhance his own identity, while Amity hides who she is, telling herself to shut up and be a quiet and obedient kid who doesn’t stick out amidst the rest of her family, she’s ashamed of herself. Amity dyes her hair because of what Odalia told her, and she actively sees herself as someone to change and ‘improve’ upon, in order to live up to the Blight family standard… But Gus? Gus is happy with himself because the Porter lineage consists of dweebuses… They’re people who are happy with who they are, and they’ve transmitted the same sentiments towards their children!

Gus looks up to Perry, but it’s a healthy relationship… He genuinely admires his father because of his own choice, because Perry was good and kind to him! But Amity, she looks up to her parents because they made her dependent upon them, they indoctrinated her… They made Amity base her self-worth upon their approval. The Blight name is a curse to Amity, a reminder that she’s never good enough; Whilst the Porter name tells Gus that whoever he is, that’s valid and he should be proud of it!

How fitting then, is it, that Gus helps lead the rebellion against Belos alongside Willow and his father Perry, who seems intrigued by what his kid has to say; Whilst Odalia and Alador would never listen to what Amity has to tell them! Gus is the one who is reassured of his own self-worth, that he’s perfectly valid as is, by the Oracle Orb… while Amity still has doubts over herself, even if Luz IS helping her overcome this. Amity is of a higher-class, nobler status in life, she comes across as more presitigous as a top student and tries a lot…

But Gus, who definitely DOES participate, is still a lot more talented, and managed to ascend a few grades when Amity couldn’t, and is still happy with learning at school. Gus’ life comes across as less glamorous, he had less friends with just Willow, and then Luz… But those friends ended up a lot closer and more genuine to him than Boscha and her group were to Amity. And in the end, Gus gained even more friends through Eda and King… And while Amity ‘lost’ Boscha and the others, she alsojoined in on the friend group with Gus! So they have each other in a sense, because actual friendships are reciprocal and two-way.

They both had a passion for an extra-curricular activity that they were in charge of, too; Amity had the Hexside Banshees, Gus had the Human Appreciation Society! And both willingly ousted themselves from membership entirely from said group, despite their legitimate enjoyment of it. Gus and Amity did so because they ‘paid the price’ for hurting someone else… in Amity’s case, this was herself being too critical of herself for accidentally injuring Boscha and Amelia with the Thorn Vault.

With Gus, he DID accept the consequences of his genuine mistake, and by doing so, allowed Luz to enroll in Hexside! Amity only hurt herself, but Gus ended up helping Luz and his relationship with her and others in the end. Finally, Amity’s departure was wholly her own decision, while Gus was somewhat forced to leave because of Mattholomule’s antics, and Principal Bump’s punishment. Either way, what Amity did was bad for herself, while what Gus did was a moment of maturity and growth!

It works with how Water and Fire are polar opposites, but they’re also intertwined with one another… Gus is the ideal to Amity’s life. He’s not as extreme in his differentiation as Luz and her colder Ice, so there’s still plenty of similarities… Just as Luz reflects Amity in one way, so does Gus in the other! He’s an Amity who is happy with himself, who has a family lineage he can actually enjoy and be a part of, etc. The more I think of it, the more fascinating it is to me, how similar yet different the two are; Especially since Gus and his motif of Water provided unconditional friendship to Willow, in the wake of Amity and her Fire damaging the girl’s self-esteem.

And while Amity and Gus have their academic skill and surprising ‘maturity’ acknowledged… Amity’s maturity is superificial, more blind and quiet obedience than anything else, while Gus’ maturity is real and applies to his self-worth. Not to mention, Amity’s ‘maturity’ causes others to not see her as a kid who still needs emotional support and has insecurities, whilst other people recognize Gus as still being young and needing help; But at the same time, they don’t infantilize him! Gus has needs, sure, but he also has a lot to offer. People generally seem more fixated on what they can do for him, VS Amity’s parents asking so much of her.

Sadly, the interactions between Gus and Amity have been practically zero. I guess I can’t blame Gus, he’s seen how terrible Amity was towards Willow, so he might be reluctant to know her personally… And similarly, Amity is too shy and reserved to extend friendship readily, already has this with Luz, and might be afraid of disappointing Gus, amidst him having witnessed Willow’s abuse longer than Luz did. To Amity, who was likely afraid of losing Luz’s opinion of her when Willow’s memories came into play; She probably assumes that Gus has a bad opinion of her.

Whether or not he does, I can’t say for sure… But the kid seems too good-natured and open to bear a grudge. At the very least, Amity has improved a lot, and Gus has been busy in other interactions, such as with Eda, King, and regrettably, Hooty. But if they DID interact in Season 2, I’d love to see Gus and Amity take note of the comparisons and dichotomy of their lives… Perhaps Amity becomes envious of Gus, or at least wishes she had what he does, while deciding to look after the kid- She doesn’t want him to become like her!

Gus realizes that Amity is unfortunate… He better appreciates his relationship with Perry, as if he doesn’t already, and I can see him offering a lot of confidence to Amity! Maybe helping her relax, listen to what she has to say… We never see it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Gus was someone who listened a lot to what Willow had to say in the past, just as Luz does to Willow AND Amity! Gus becoming friends with Amity could help the girl make new connections and solidify them, to both her and Luz’s delight… And Gus is elated to have another audience member to entertain with his illusions, someone who will listen to him!

Because like King, while he does have issues with feeling unheard… In the end, he makes a point of letting himself be noticed, hence his enjoyment of Illusions, self-confidence, and one-time stint as MC at Grom! Whilst Amity tries NOT to be noticed, at least not in the individual sense- She’ll draw attention to the façade she has the Blight Child, and as a faceless member of the Emperor’s Coven one day… And that’s another dichotomy; The Blights are covenscouts and support Belos’ reign, while Perry Porter works with the news, reporting on some of the less desirable parts of Belos’ rule, and his own role is used by Gus to help lead an uprising against the Emperor; To show the truth to Belos’ cruelty, which is ironic for a kid who specializes in Illusions!

As the son of a reporter, Gus has likely heard a LOT of gossip… So it’s possible he’ll be a lot more privy than most to Belos’ corruption, in the event that Perry likely does some investigation, or at least a lot of reporting and inevitably gets assigned to a thing or two. Whilst Amity’s parents keep her shielded from the truth of the Emperor’s Coven, or at least try to justify it… But Gus, he could be someone who helps Amity realize how corrupt Belos is, and how a good relationship with a parent that discusses the family name actually looks like! He can help Amity realize the truth- Again, another ironic contrast to his Illusionist talents. Assuming what happened with Luz, Eda, and Lilith isn’t already enough for Amity…

Obviously Gus doesn’t HAVE to be friends with Amity and vice-versa. I can understand if he wants to avoid her because of what she did to Willow. But I think if the two WERE to interact, there’s some potential… At the very least, there’s a lot of thematic connections, similarities, and differences that are worth noting and appreciating. I’m just imagining Gus seeing Amity as being all down and in the pits, cheering her up with Illusions… And Amity listens to and understands Gus when he has to vent a bit.

Amusingly, he’s also a self-proclaimed ‘Human expert’! So I can see Amity looking to GUS of all people on guidance on how to woo Luz, and navigate her human culture… And Gus, despite meaning well, just sets up Amity for failure and antics as he teaches her all of the wrong things! Imagine Amity nervously coming up to Luz, dressed in a rain poncho because it’s apparently a ‘display of romantic affection’ while Gus unblinkingly flashes her a thumbs-up from behind a bush! And then that leads to his disappointment as he realizes he screwed up…

Or, Luz is such a goober who loves Amity that she takes it all in stride and genuinely enjoys it, leading to Gus being triumphant in his knowledge, while telling Amity ‘I told you so!’ Amity can’t BELIEVE she actually listened to him- But it paid off in the end, didn’t it? And hey, maybe she can use her power as a Blight to nab a human artifact for Gus… Or at least show him of Azura, assuming Luz already hasn’t! But given that book series is about witches and not humans themselves, I can see Gus not being too intrigued.

To Amity, Gus is this weird, unusual little kid with a lot of ideas, surprisingly precocious… But she appreciates his confidence in himself, and how sweet he can be! While Gus sees Amity as Willow’s former friend who REALLY hurt her, but has since improved… And he knows through Luz and Willow that her parents are outright abusive, maybe he’s even had past interactions with Emira and Edric, as members of the same track! Either way, Gus has a lot of natural curiosity that wasn’t quashed or taken advantage of by his father, but actually supported… Maybe he’ll be interested in interviewing Amity, getting to know the REAL Amity Blight, encouraging her to come forth! And Amity is uncertain, maybe flattered… Maybe she humors him and actually DOES open up a little, maybe not.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house gus #gus porter #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house perry #perry porter #the owl house odalia #odalia blight #the owl house alador #alador blight #augustus porter

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songsoomin · 4 years

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Begin Again Part 1 (A, F)

Word count: Around 10k

Idol! Jongho x Fem Reader, Best friend! Hongjoong. Reader has serious body confidence issues due to a past relationship but Jongho will help her through it. First two chapters will be angst with some fluff but a little smut will appear in chapter 3.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, both emotional and psychological, body shaming, anxiety issues.

Authour’s note: Reader is overweight but not as massive as she thinks she is. She has been conditioned through psychological abuse to believe she is very fat and unattractive. This is not intended to be the kind of story where reader becomes thin and is then happy and gets male attention (although, due to reader’s warped sense of self she does equate being thin with being happy). Even after losing some weight (for her own health and happiness) she is still somewhat overweight and curvy but the more important part is that she gets her confidence back and that is what makes her happier and more attractive.

Part 2 Part 3

Posted 16th October 2020

This was a bad idea, you were sure of it. Meeting new people never worked out well for you and you could already feel the anxiety creeping up on you. But Hongjoong was with you, he had told you he'd look after you and you trusted him - not something that came easily to you, these days. Still, the little voice in your head kept telling you you were stupid to think anyone would like you.

As you both approached the restaurant you froze, pulling him to a stop with you.

"Hongjoong...I'm not sure I can do this." You looked at him, clearly nervous.

"Y/N. I know it's a lot of people to meet at once but they're the best bunch of guys you could ever meet - and I'll be here with you the whole time."

"Okay." You were still skeptical that they would like you - great guys or not. The problem wasn't them...it was you.

In school Hongjoong had been one of your closest friends but you fell out of touch with him when your lives started taking different paths. Looking back at the last few years you had actually lost touch with almost every friend you had - a byproduct of the toxic relationship you had been in - and now your self-esteem was so low that it felt too scary for you to make any new ones.

You had run into Hongjoong while shopping some months ago and he had asked you to have a coffee with him. He could see you were very different to how he remembered you and asked how you had been. It was a particularly difficult time for you and you couldn't keep it all in anymore. You broke down in front of him, frantically apologising for burdening him with all this. You were sure he was going to think you were crazy and you'd never hear from him again...but he stuck around. He kept texting, asking you to meet just to make sure you were okay and, gradually, he pursuaded you that you deserved better than how you were being treated. That your boyfriend was abusing you...even if he wasn't physically hurting you. It was psychological and emtional. You had lived walking on eggshells all the time - what was fine one day would cause him to get angry and lash out at you the next - or to spend days ignoring you completely. You never knew what to do or say to please him. Hongjoong helped you gain the strength to leave him and promised to help you start afresh.

So here he was, trying to get you back out into the world and make some friends because, if left to your own devices, the depression would make you sit inside your flat all alone, convincing you not to try in case you get hurt again.

The restaurant wasn't too crowded, which was good because you weren't comfortable around lots of people. Your red-haired best friend led you to a big table occupied by seven of the most attractive men you had ever seen and you froze up again.

You don't belong here.

The mean voice in your head taunted you.

Look at these guys...they're perfect and you're just...well, a fat mess.

You tried to ignore the voice as Hongjoong introduced you to all of them,

"Guys, this is my friend Y/N that I told you about. Y/N this is...." He reeled off all their names but you knew you wouldn't remember them all. You just tried to match names to the various hair colours, hoping it would be easier that way. They all greeted you warmly, Hongjoong pulled a chair out for you next to the big, blue haired one - Yunho - and sat on your other side. He was right, they were all very friendly and a few of them very loud.

"Y/N, how old are you? Can I talk comfortably?" You think the one who asked this was called Wooyoung, he was the loudest by far. Cute, with short black hair, parted in the middle but it had a dark bluish tinge in the light. His laugh was so high-pitched you thought your ear drums would burst before the end of the meal.

"What do you do, Y/N? Do you work or go to college?" Seonghwa was next, he was so attractive you almost forgot how to form coherent sentences. Big, dark eyes, a beautiful smile and darkish-blonde hair that almost covered his eyes. He seemed the most mature of the lot and looked a bit intense sometimes - he was a little intimidating, really.

"What kind of music do you listen to? What kind of fashion do you like? Your trainers are really cool." The big one with brown hair threw questions at you next. He was dressed really well so you guessed he must like clothes a lot. He was big, like Yunho but he didn't look so friendly, at first. You thought he might be a bit cold when he was just sitting there but when he smiled it lit up his face. He was easily the cutest, despite his size.

"I'm not into clothes much...I just wear whatever, really."

Yeah, whatever you can find to fit you - which isn't much. You look awful in everything.

I mean, he has eyes...he can see how fat you are. Does he really think you can wear the new fashions in the shops? They're all made for skinny girls, after all.

You tried your best to block out the voice because you knew he was just being friendly but the voice was always there reminding you how awful you were. Making you feel even worse.

Even before you had become withdrawn you had never been outgoing - always shy and only talking to people once they'd spoken to you first - but now outgoing people were so opposite to you they actually made you feel a little uncomfortable and you couldn't help shying away from them.

Hongjoong recognised it - probably because you were clinging on to his sleeve - and asked them to tone it down.

"Guys...stop bombarding Y/N with so many questions. You really are a bit too much sometimes." He chided, although affectionately.

They got the message and switched to general conversation after a chorus of sorries. You calmed a bit once you weren't the centre of attention, just enjoying their chatter and the way they were with each other. They had a closeness you'd never experienced yourself with friends. You had been good friends with Hongjoong but, as far as girlfriends went, you'd always felt left on the outside.

You'd had some bad experiences and knew that girls could be very mean. In the past some had pretended to like you but talked shit about you behind your back. Sometimes you'd feel you were left out on purpose - once even listening to girlfriends plan a night out, knowing you were there but not inviting you. These kind of things happened more than once, with different groups, so in the end you decided it was you. You must be unlikeable in some way. It was after that you became friends with Hongjoong and his friends in the last two years of school, prefering the honesty of boys. They weren't usually two-faced and bitchy like the girls. In your experience, if a boy didn't like you he would either tell you or show it in some other way.

That was why you had agreed to come out with Hongjoong today, you felt more comfortable with boys and you knew he was a good judge of character. If this had been a table of girls you'd have been way too scared to come...and god knows what that voice would be saying to you now. Most of the girls he knew were idols like him - and it was fair to say you were on the larger side - so the inferiority complex you'd develop sitting with girls that thin and pretty didn't bear thinking about.

Despite your discomfort you were truly enjoying being with the group and litening to their stories and friendly jibes. It's hard being around a group of friends who have a long history because they will talk about their shared experiences but they were all kind enough to explain the stories to you and include you as much as they could. You appreciated their kindness.

They're probabbly getting sick of you by now...having to explain everything. You're just an incovenience to everyone. I bet they wish you weren't here.

The waiter came over to take the order and you asked for a diet Pepsi.

"Diet?" Yeah, right. They're probably laughing at you for ordering a diet when you look like you don't even know the meaning of the word. One look at you and they can see you don't do 'diet' anything.

The voice was often stronger in your mind when you were already anxious or in an uncomfortable situation. Right now it was really being mean. You also ordered something relatively light and healthy to eat and that spurred the voice on more.

Really? You know they can see you, right? They won't think you usually eat this way. You're not that fat because you've been eating salads.

You tried your best to drown it out and just listen to the guys' chatter again. You knew you'd probably still be hungry after so you'd eat back at home.

Yeah...too much. Like always.

You knew in your heart that they wouldn't think you ate that healthily normally but you didn't like eating in front of others. Other peope judged you for how you looked, what you ate. You'd rather they inwardly laughed at you for trying to pretend you were healthy than look at a fat girl eating junk food and be more disgusted.

The thought brought back old memories of the daily nagging your ex subjected you to...

"Y/N? Do you really think you should be eating that? You eat far too much."

"When are you going to start losing some weight?"

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"A salad would probably be better for you than that."

"I just think you should get rid of that dress. It makes you look awful."

"I'm not trying to upset you but I just want you to be as attractive and beautiful as you used to be. Everyone knows fat isn't sexy."

He never outright called you names or said things anyone would consider insulting so it was difficult to see that what he was doing was emotional abuse. What he did was gradually strip you of any shred of self-confidence. Everyday the things he said were carefully designed to remind you that you weren't as thin as you were when you met him and therefore you weren't good enough. There were certain clothes he disliked because they didn't flatter your size as well as others and if you wore any of those he would withold hugs and affection. You could see him purposefully not looking in your direction anytime you were changing because seeing you naked was so repulsive to him. But he didn't leave you to find someone better. He carried on gradually demeaning you, trying to force you into becoming what he wanted you to be. He thought if he made you feel bad enough, you would eat better and go to the gym but it didn't work that way. Your self-worth became so wrapped up in what you looked like that you began hating yourself. You couldn't go to the gym because people would laugh at you. You stopped going on nights out with friends because you hated how you looked in everything you owned and didn't want people looking at you. Laughing because the fat girl thought she could make herself look good by putting on some make up and a nice dress. It was logical to think that if you didn't like your weight you could just eat better but the depression kept you down and just made you eat more. A vicious circle. The more you ate the more you hated yourself until you just got used to it. You might have got rid of him but the voice remained, constantly demeaning and mocking you.

You were close to tears now but didn't want to embarrass yourself further so you made an excuse to leave the table.

"Joong, I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Okay." You'd learned in the previous months that Hongjoong could always see through you but everyone was around so he didn't comment on it. He knew you wouldn't want anyone else to see you were upset. You appreciated his sensitivity but how he also wouldn't let you bottle things up until they were really hurting you too much. You knew it was his mature and caring nature that made him perfect as the group's leader.

You calmed yourself down and went back out before anyone would wonder why you'd been gone too long.

You think anyone but Hongjoong would even notice you were gone?

When you got back to the table they were all still engrossed in conversation but Hongjoong lightly squeezed your hand under the table and Yunho broke off to talk to you. A few seats away another boy smiled at you shyly, noticing your return. You hadn't spoken to him directly and he seemed one of the quietest of the group. He had light brown hair and a cute smile. You wouldn't have thought he was the youngest because he was a bit stockier than the rest and seemed more mature than Wooyoung and Mingi but he called each of them 'Hyung' so you guessed he must be. In any event, he had seemed to notice when you returned so maybe the voice wasn't always right. You felt hopeful but you also knew how quickly hopes could be crushed. You guessed you'd just have to see how this went.

As the meal went on you really were enjoying yourself but couldn't get rid of the fear of judgement completely, despite how nice they seemed. You felt so self-conscious as you ate in front of them that you took tiny bites and didn't even finish it all. You noticed the same boy - who you'd now learned was called Jongho - looking over at you every now and then and it made you feel a bit anxious.

He's probably judging you. He's clearly very fit and active, whereas, you get no exercise and clearly eat too much...what must he think?

You tried your best to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the afternoon.

You had had fun but were glad once you got home, where you could relax and know no one was watching or judging you. You went to the freezer and took out a full tub of ice cream, ready to eat the whole thing by yourself. Food used to comfort you - something you'd learned a long time ago and had now become a habit - but these days you didn't get the same feeling. Eating had become robotic, almost. You picked up food even when you weren't really hungry and, although you still enjoyed the taste and the action of eating, you couldn't say you paid much attention anymore and the whole tub would be gone before you knew it. You thought it might be like drugs, where you needed more all the time to get the same fix. Or maybe it was just that you'd had to disassociate from your feelings that you didn't get the same pleasure you once got because inside you were actually ashamed of yourself and, as long as you weren't feeling anything, you wouldn't feel that either.

You did want to change because, if nothing else, you knew overeating wasn't healthy. It wasn't that you thought people needed to be thin to be beautiful because you knew beauty was subjective and came in all forms but you knew you were much happier in yourself when you were slimmer. How much of that was due to the mistreatment from your ex-boyfriend, it was impossible to know. Maybe if he had embraced you as you were you could be happy at whatever size without hating yourself but it was done now.

You weren't completely sure why you felt ashamed of yourself because you never judged other people for not being thin. You could only imagine that it was another side-effect of the emotional abuse. He was always gaslighting...making it seem like it was your fault.

“I'm only trying to help...don't you want to look good?”

"You know how unhappy it makes me. Don't you care about saving our relationship? If you did you'd be down at the gym doing something about it."

If you ever tried to point out how his behaviour made you feel or how he could change how he treated you so you were happier together he just turned it back on you.

"I'm not the one who needs to change. The only problem in our relationship is your size so it's you that needs to fix it."

Deep down you knew that wasn't true, though. His behaviour wasn't right and shaming someone was not an incentive for self-improvement. On the contrary, it only made you eat more but now you did it in secret where you couldn't be seen and, therefore, couldn't be judged. At least until they could see the results of your overeating.

********

A few days later you and Hongjoong were watching a few more episodes of the Netflix drama you'd started together in your apartment. You'd just finished the second and were having a break to get more drinks before beginning the third when he seemed to remember something.

"Oh, Y/N! I forgot to tell you...the guys all said they like you. Said it was nice to meet someone new, for a change."

You leaned back against the kitchen side, abandoning the hunt for drinks for a moment, "What do you mean?"

"Well...we get so few chances to meet anyone who isn't part of our industry or who isn't a fan." Hongjoong continued on, lifting himself up onto the opposite counter-top. "The people in our industry are like us where they don't get to do much real-life stuff so mostly we end up talking about idol life and work. We adore our fans and love getting to meet them but it is still a big part of being an idol so it's nice when we meet someone not linked to that at all."

"Really?" You asked. You liked hearing about Hongjoong's life but never pressed him for too much information. He did talk about it but was usually more concerned with how you were doing. You'd never pressed him too much about being an idol because you wanted him to be able to be himself with you and talk about whatever he wanted.

"Yeah, it's nice for us to have friends who we can talk to about other things and get some time to switch off from work. That's probably why they bombarded you with questions the other day." He laughed thinking about it and you had to join in. Hongjoong had such a bright smile that it made you happy just seeing it. You knew he used a lot of his free time trying to help you mend yourself and you had worried he'd get sick of your drama but it felt like a relief to know he liked the distraction.

He'll get sick of you one day. He may be helping you now but he'll soon realise you're not worth it.

"I really liked meeting them, too. It was a bit overwhelming at first but they seemed just as nice as you said they were. Thanks, Joong, I had fun for once." You smiled at your red-haired best friend, still sitting up on the counter.

"They liked you, too...they even suggested I bring you over to the dorm sometime."

"They liked me? I thought they'd have seen how boring I am. I'm too quiet and shy."

Hongjoong sighed, "Y/N...you are a wonderful person and being shy doesn't make you boring. You're different to the other kinds of people we know and that is refreshing."

You looked down at your hands awkwardly, not used to hearing anything good about yourself from anyone but your parents and they had to say nice things about you - they were biased.

"It's understandable that you're reserved around new people given what you've been through. That arsehole made you feel like you're not worth anything and you've nothing to offer anyone but it's just not true. I've got to know you again and once you let me in I could see how great you are. You're funny and caring and they'll see it soon, as well, if you let them."

"Stop it Joong, you know how uncomfortable compliments make me." You said, blushing.

Hongjoong hopped down from the counter and slung an arm around your shoulder, "That's because you don't believe any of it yet and I'm not going to stop until you do."

"Thanks, Joong...I don't know where I'd be without you."

********

You stood outside the door to the boys' dorm, anxiety flaring. Slowly you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. Hongjoong had told you they had liked you and wanted to see you again but you still doubted it.

Over time you had come to believe that people never really liked you - you weren't worth it. You were too quiet and boring, not attractive enough so what did you really have to offer? Thinking this way meant that you had trouble believing Hongjoong even though you knew he was a good person and wouldn't lie to you. He could've been mistaken, though.

They probably just told him they liked you because you're his friend and they didn't want to hurt his feelings.

But he said they had suggested I come over...so that can't be true. You told the nasty voice in your head and hoped you were right. Finally feeling a little more calm you knocked timidly on the door.

Jeez...even your knock is boring.

You heard a small comotion on the other side of the door before you heard the click of the door opening.

"Guys, stop crowding! She doesn't want you all in her face straight away."

As Hongjoong opened the door with a sigh you saw three of his members standing behind him looking excited and you had to laugh a little. Thankfully you remembered their names - Yunho was easy because he had blue hair and you remembered San and Wooyoung as they had been the ones to talk to you most at the restaurant.

"Hi." You felt a little overwhelmed again but not as much as last time. True, it was a new environment and those added to your anxiety but the three guys seemed genuinely pleased to see you again so you felt much more comfortable already.

"Hi, Y/N!" Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, then, turning to the other three commanded,

"Guys...give Y/N some room to breathe before you attack her."

San looked slightly forlorn, like a small child who's dad just told him he couldn't go out to play yet and you smiled because he just looked so cute.

Wooyoung, however, ignored Hongjoong completely.

"Y/N, what kind of pizza topping do you like? We're ordering a bunch for all of us."

"Uh, I like Hawaiian best."

"Yes! I knew someone else but me must like pineapple on pizza."

The tall brown haired one, Mingi you thought, yelled from his spot on the sofa with a tone that said 'I told you so' to the others.

"Fine," Wooyoung replied, "You and Y/N can share that one and the rest of us will get the usual order."

Mmmm, pizza. That'll help you to not be a massive fat cow. The voice chimed in sarcastically and you sighed.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, bringing you out of your own thoughts.

"Oh...yeah, I'm fine."

"Let's get you a drink. We got Pepsi, Fanta, juice...."

You followed Yunho to the kitchen while he carried on talking to you and asking how you had been. He was really easy to talk to and, although he seemed like he could be quite hyper and chaotic - especially with Mingi, as you witnessed at the restaurant - he also seemed to have a more perceptive side, like he could read how people were feeling. You appreciated how he was chatting with you more calmly, without making you feel overwhelmed by attention.

You made your way into the living area of their dorm and looked around. Not all the boys had been there to greet you when you came in, which was good as it meant you didn't have the focus of eight people on you all at once.

Yeosang, the quietest of the group, was sitting on the couch by Mingi and he smiled and said "Hi." when you came over and took a seat on the other couch. Mingi, happy to have found someone who let him order pineapple pizza started chatting to you, asking if you wanted to watch a movie or play games first. They seemed to have the evening planned out but it was nice he was asking what you wanted to do - it made you feel included.

Seonghwa was getting snacks together in the kitchen and when he brought them out to the living room the boys all descended on him like they were starving. He tutted, grumbling about how uncivilised they were but you could see the affection he held for them. Hongjoong had told you Seonghwa was the oldest so you presumed he took on more of a caring role like Joong did.

Jongho was the last to enter, coming from down the hall where their bedrooms must be. He paused slightly when he saw you there and gave you a small smile. You weren't really sure what that meant. He didn't seem as pleased to see you as the others but didn't seem unhappy either...more awkward, maybe. Hongjoong had been trying to help you stop and think through the negative thoughts you had and to actively think kinder thoughts about yourself so you tried not to think it was anything personal, like you normally would. Maybe Jongho was just awkward around new people like you were.

As you were contemplating that you reached for your drink on the coffee table, completely missing the target but managing to knock the glass over, spilling all the liquid inside over the table and the floor.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll get something to wipe it up!"

You rushed frantically to the kitchen looking for paper towels or a cloth to clean the spill but Seonghwa was already on the case and getting everything he needed for the job.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll get it."

"I should clean it, it was my fault." You mentally kicked yourself for not being careful enough.

"You're our guest, it's fine. Don't worry." Seonghwa said with a kind smile.

A memory of your ex looking at you with disgust played through your mind...

"You're so useless. You can't do anything right.”

"I'm sorry, it was just an accident."

"It's only ever me who cares about keeping this place clean - you just go around messing things up. You'd probably be just as happy living in a pigsty. At least that would suit you more."

You must've looked like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack as Hongjoong came over and placed his arm around your shoulders.

"It's okay, Y/N. Breathe."

"I'm sorry, Joong. I should've been more careful. I'm just so clumsy."

"Y/N..." He faced you with a hand on each of your shoulders and looked you straight in the eye, "No one is upset about this. It happens, don't worry."

Seonghwa was already done cleaning up the spill and wiping the area down with a wet cloth so it didn't get sticky. He smiled as he passed you on his way back to the kitchen. You peeked past Hongjoong to the others and no one looked angry or annoyed at your clumsiness...just a little confused at the exchange between Hongjoong and yourself.

They're probably wondering what kind of crazy person they've let into their dorm by now.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom." You moved quickly to avoid the curious gaze of the others while Hongjoong called out,

"It's the last door on the left."

Once locked in the bathroom you sat on the lid of the toilet, head in your hands and trying not to let all the panic take over you. You thought it might help to splash cold water on your face except you had make up on.

It doesn't help, though. You might look slightly better with make up on but you'll still look ugly.

At least that's what the voice tells you each time you try to make yourself look more presentable. You might not think you're that attractive in make up but you sure as hell know you look like crap without it.

"Aren't you going to wear make up today?"

"We're only going to see your mother...I'm sure she doesn't care if I don't have any make up on."

"It doesn't seem like you care about how you look either."

That was just one of the many snide comment your ex would make if you didn't feel like wearing make up every now and then. Comments that let you know that he would only find you acceptable with make up and nice clothes.

Sometimes it was something like, "Well, if you don't want to make an effort for me..." that made you feel like you didn't love him enough, that you didn't care if he was happy with you. You'd always end up either going back to put on make up to make him happy or spending the day with him virtually ignoring you just so you knew just how displeased he was with how you looked.

You took a few deep breaths and sighed, forcing yourself up and out the bathroom because it wouldn't do any good to hide in here. That would make them all think you really were a crazy mess.

You paused as you walked down the hall upon hearing one of the guys ask, "Is Y/n okay? Her reaction to spilling her drink was a bit...odd."

"Uh...it's not really my place to say but...it's because of her ex. He wasn't good to her. In fact, he was quite cruel a lot of the time."

There was a pause as you listened but then noises of disgust came from some the boys.

"Oh my god!"

"What a bastard!"

"But she's so sweet...how could he do that?"

"I know." Hongjoong said, "She's come a long way but don't bring it up, please. I don't want her more upset."

You smiled, Hongjoong was the one who was so sweet. He really was your rock and the only one you'd ever really opened up to about it all. Your parents knew your ex wasn't always good to you but you hadn't wanted to upset them by telling them how badly he treated you. Whenever you had been around them or his parents he had been the master of pretending your relationship was great and showing how much he 'loved' you.

As you walked back into sight, the guys went back to chatting or looking at their phones. Mingi and Jongho were arguing over what movie to watch. Jongho wanted horror but Mingi was outright refusing.

Only Joong and Seonghwa took notice of your return as you walked over to them in the kitchen.

"Sorry for making you clean up my mess, Seonghwa."

Seonghwa looked at you with a smile - he really was painfully attractive.

"Y/N...Joong and I live with six massive children. You think these boys aren't constantly making a mess for me to clean up?"

"Okay, I suppose..." You laughed, "...but I'm still sorry that I made you."

"It's nothing, really."

Seonghwa quietly exited the kitchen, leaving you alone with your best friend.

"You okay now?" He asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Just my normal reaction to messing up."

"You don't have to live like that anymore, Y/N." You felt Hongjoong's arms wrap around you comfortingly. "It was his reactions that weren't normal. No one deserves to be made to feel like shit every day and certainly not over silly things like a spilled drink or forgetting to put something away."

You let out a big breath and relaxed into Hongjoong's embrace. Once he felt you had calmed down properly he spoke again.

"Do you wanna go join the guys again? The pizza must almost be here."

********

"You can't do that, Woo!" You exclaimed.

"I can! I've always played like that." the dark-haired boy retorted.

"That is not how you play. I'm not having it." You replied, setting your cards down and picking your phone up to Google the official rules of Uno.

"Y/N, I've been trying to tell him this for six years but we always end up arguing." Yeosang said wearily.

"Yeah." Yunho added, "That's why we never play Uno anymore."

You found the official Uno page and read over the rules until you found what you were after.

"When a person places this card the next player will have to pick up two cards and forfeit their turn." You read word-for-word off the screen. "You have to pick up two cards. You can't just put another plus two card and make me pick up four!"

"Well...that's not how I play." Wooyoung replied stubbornly but you could be just as stubborn.

"Okay then...I just won't play with you if you cheat."

Wooyoung gasped dramatically at the implication of cheating while the others all laughed at your childish interaction.

It felt so good having fun for a change. Spending time with people who seemed to genuinely like you and have fun with you, too. People who weren't constantly looking out for any mistakes you made so they could make you feel like shit.

You'd spent quite a few evenings at the dorm with Hongjoong and the boys and you were slowly starting to relax around them - enough to start arguing over game rules, certainly, but you still had a lot of doubt. Despite your last relationship you still had a tendency to trust too easily because you were desperate for warmth and friendship. The voice in your head had taken the place of your ex, constantly telling you you weren't good enough, that no one could ever want you, you weren't funny or pretty or interesting in any way. So, even though it had the potential to destroy all the progress you'd made so far, you felt yourself trusting them more and more because they seemed so nice and kind. They appeared to accept you for who you were and not judge your looks or size. Laughing at how you and Woo were playfully arguing it appeared like they really liked having you around. You just hoped the voice was wrong and you weren't setting yourself up for more pain when you found out they were just pretending to like you for Hongjoong's sake.

********

You were sitting on the couch in the boys' dorm for another evening of a Netflix series and pizza - Yeosang and Jongho had won the battle this time, it was a horror and Mingi was not happy. Despite your original impression of him being big and intimidating he was actually just a big baby who loved affection just as much as you and right now he was holding on to your hand and squeezing his eyes shut every time the music that signalled something bad was about to happen started playing. You couldn't blame him, though, you were holding his hand just as tight and watching the tv through half-closed eyes so you could shut them quicker if something scary did appear on the screen. Your best friend, Hongjoong, was sitting on your other side, hand lightly resting on your leg in a comforting way because he knew you didn't like scary programmes.

"I still enjoy the storylines even if they do scare me." You'd told him after the episode ended, when he asked you why you still wanted to watch them.

"Do you want the last slice, Y/N?" Mingi asked, holding up the pizza box from the Hawaiian you'd shared again.

"I really shouldn't." You sighed, "You have it."

"What do you mean?" The tall brown-haired boy asked, confused.

"Well..it's alright for you guys to eat a lot because you all dance all day and work it off. You don't get fat from it. I'm just getting bigger and bigger so I need to lose some weight."

"That's stupid." San said, matter-of-factly, "There's nothing wrong with how you are."

You knew San meant well and didn't judge you but when he said 'how you are' it just cemented in your head that 'how you were' wasn't good at all. It was the same as being told you look good 'for your size' - if you weren't overweight he would surely have just said there's nothing wrong with you.

"Thanks, San but I don't feel like I'm fine like this." You said feeling awkward as everyone was looking at you now.

"I can teach you to dance, if you like. It's really good exercise." Yunho offered.

You know their practice room is upstairs, right? You'd probably go through the floor. The voice in your head mocked you.

"You do not want to see me trying to dance." You grimaced at the thought of your clumsy, uncoordinated body lumbering around a practice room.

"You could always come to the gym with me." Jongho said.

It surprised you as Jongho didn't usually talk to you that much and your face must have shown your surprise as he quickly added on, "If you want to, I mean."

From the corner of your eye you saw Wooyoung and Yeosang share a look and smirk and you couldn't help but wonder what that meant. Were they laughing at the thought of you exercising...or how you'd look in gym clothes? You didn't think on it too long, though as Jongho was still waiting, looking awkward.

"I guess?" You answered, except it came out more like a question. "I don't think I'll be very good at it, though. I've never really been to a proper gym."

"That's no problem..." the youngest said excitedly, "I can coach you."

"I don't want to use up all your time, though. You must have other things you want to do and you guys don't get a lot of time off."

"Don't worry, Y/N," Hongjoong told you, "Jongho spends most of his time off at the gym anyway."

"Well...okay then. When do we start?"

********

You stood looking at yourself in the mirror, sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt left over from your last failed attempt at losing weight through exercise. You didn't like the way you looked but there was only one way to change that so you would just have to suck it up and go.

On getting to the gym doors you stopped to take a deep breath. It surely wouldn't be that bad but you couldn't help but worry in case people judged you or laughed at you. It didn't make sense for people to laugh because you were at least there making an effort but you'd seen your fair share of larger people being laughed at for exercising and trying to get fitter but you'd long ago realised that people were cruel. You'd be mocked for being bigger but mocked even more for trying to change it.

At least Jongho would be there to support you... Unless... the voice in your head started...

You don't know him that well...what if he thinks it's funny, too? What if he stands you up and you're left here looking stupid all alone? He might even -

'STOP IT!' You shouted silently at the voice in your head, 'You can't keep making me feel this way! Jongho wouldn't have offered to help if he was going to be mean...Hongjoong's friends aren't like that.

You were going to have to overcome this voice if you were ever going to be able to accept yourself and be happy. You knew that but it was easier said than done because these were all your thoughts about yourself and how people thought of you. If someone like your ex was being cruel and saying derogatory things about you, you could cut them out of your life and their voice would be gone but when it's your own 'voice' degrading you...how do you cut your own cruelty out of your life?

You cut that train of thought short as you could see Jongho inside the gym - surrounded by a vast array of intimidating looking machines - and you didn't want to keep him waiting. This wasn't the time for an personal crisis. It was the time, however, to force yourself through those doors and try to take the first steps towards liking yourself again.

"...five...four...three...two...one. You did it!" Jongho exclcimed happily, grinning at you. You were exhausted already because you just weren't used to this type of activity and you knew you were gonna feel it in the morning.

You and Jongho had only done twenty minutes on the treadmill before he had you using the weights. The machines had looked scary and complicated to you but he assured you he would do all the prep work and help you position yourself right. He helped you test out how much you could lift without causing damage as your muscles weren't used to the strain but he said he didn't want it to feel too easy or there would be no benefit.

"Are you sure I shouldn't be using the cardio machines if I need to lose weight?" You asked Jongho uncertainly, "I don't want to build myself up."

"No." The light brown-haired boy answered sounding very sure of himself, "Too much cardio won't help. You need to stress your muscled to make them kick into burning fat effectively. You won't build lots of muscle because you won't be lifting that much and we'll just be doing short high intensity bursts on each different machine but you will tone up."

You looked at him in awe of his knowledge, Hongjoong must be right, Jongho must spend a lot of time here. You looked over his physique as he was talking to you, he was just in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt but it was enought to hint at the muscled he had underneath that were usually hidden under his normal clothes. You could see that Jongho had a bigger build than the others but you'd not been able to see how well-defined it was before now.

"You'll need to do some cardio before and after, of course, as your warm-up and cool-down or you could damage your muscles...and you don't want that because it could put you out of action for a while and you'll have to build your fitness back up again."

"Oh, okay. Well, you seem to really know what you're doing so just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

He seemed pleased at your assessment of his knowledge because he smiled, allbeit with a slight blush - maybe you'd embarrassed him a little. It occurred to you that this was probably the longest you'd ever spoken to Jongho for so maybe it was just the slight awkwardness that still lingered between the two of you.

"Good, then get yourself settled into the bicep curl and we'll continue with your arms."

********

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...five...four-"

"Hey!" You cried, "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Jongho asked innocently.

"You can't go back to five when I just got to one...it's not fair!"

Your 'instructor' laughed a little, "It's a standard training technique. You've been doing so well over the last month that I wanted to increase your reps but if I say do fifteen from the start you'd think it too much."

"I would." You agreed.

"But...if I just add another few on while you're already working you'll just continue - well, that's what most trainers find works." He gave you a questioning look and you wondered what he was thinking.

He's thinking you're a lazy, fat cow who can't see hard work through.

'That's not true!' You answered the nasty voice in your head silently, 'I have been working hard.'

"Okay, I'll try." You we're skeptical but you really wanted to show him you could try hard.

Jongho smiled at you and you couldn't help but want to do your best when he flashed you his cute, gummy grin.

"Great, let's go again! Ten..."

********

Your muscles were so tight the next day after Jongho had increased the workload and you groaned lightly as you shifted position on the couch in the boys' dorm.

"You okay, Y/N?" Hongjoong wondered as he heard you grumbling to yourself.

"Oh, it's just my legs. Jongho made me work harder yesterday and my muscles are really achy." You looked over to see said boy looking a bit sheepish.

"I'm really good at deep muscle massages." Jongho was already next to you by the time he'd finished his sentence and reaching for you. Alarm bells instantly went off in your head - you didn't want him to touch you. It was enough that he saw you sweating and looking less than dignified at the gym, you didn't want him to be able to feel your flabby legs, as well.

"No!" You virtually shouted as you pulled your legs up under you so fast, ignoring your muscles' complaints.

"I'm sorry." You said in a small voice as Jongho looked confused and - maybe -a little hurt. The other boys were all looking at you, too, having been surprised by your outburst.

"I just...don't really like people touching me much." The apologetic look was clear on your face as you tried to explain so he knew it was your problem and nothing against him.

"It’s okay, I understand that. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He smiled slightly but you could still see the hint of hurt on his face.

You felt awful. You didn't want Jongho to feel bad about something that was all you but you didn't know how to make it better so you just smiled apologetically back at him. The night continued on but you couldn't deny it felt a little awkward - especially when you saw Jongho look at you out of the corner of his eye when he noticed you let Hongjoong take your hand to hold while you were all watching TV. The gesture was to comfort you because your best friend knew you well enough to know you'd feel uneasy about the unwanted attention you'd brought on yourself.

Out of the eight boys, physical contact was something you only let Hongjoong do because you trusted him not to judge you. You didn't know them well enough yet and trusting people didn't come easy. Again, though, you had to admit that it was nothing to do with what kind of people they were because they really did seem genuinely lovely people. The problem was completely within you. You thought they'd judge your size because you judged it yourself. Thought they might secretly dislike you because you disliked yourself. Wondered why they wanted to hang around with a boring, unattractive girl like you because that's how you saw yourself. Thought they'd be disgusted if they saw or felt how you looked under the baggy clothes you wore because that's exactly how you felt when you saw or touched yourself. If you couldn't even like yourself, how could anyone else?

********

"Jongho..." You panted, struggling to catch your breath, "I can't...do anymore...I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" He asked confused.

"Because I'm failing." Not wanting to meet his eyes you looked down dejectedly. It had been a week since Jongho had increased your workout routine and you were exhausted. You dragged yourself off the treadmill and sat on the seat of the nearest weight machine.

"You're doing great, Y/N."

"No. I'm failing like I do everytime I try to lose weight." You felt tears welling up and were about ready to give up.

You always give up. You're lazy and useless so you might as well do it again.

Jongho frowned and placed one of his hands on each of your shoulders; you went to stand up off the seat and move away from his touch but he wouldn't let you, he was holding you too firmly. He crouched down so he was on your eye level.

"Y/N. Don't be so hard on yourself. This is a really tough workout and...I may have pushed you a little too far."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm really not." He was trying to get you to look at him but you wouldn't. "We've been here almost every day this week and it's probably too much straight after increasing the workload."

"Really?" Looking up you looked Jongho in the eyes trying to guage if he really meant it or was just being kind to you. His dark brown eyes were staring straight back into yours and you could only see sincerity. It made hope swell a little inside you.

"A lot of people think that the more they do, the fitter they will become but if you take on too much at once you will exhaust yourself. If you're struggling, it's probably your body telling you to slow down and allow yourself to rest."

"You think so? I'm not just a massive failure?"

"No." Jongho chuckled.

But you are massive.

"In fact," he continued, "it's me who should be apologising for letting you do too much. You could've hurt yourself."

"It's okay." You smiled, just happy he didn't think you were useless.

"How about we make sure we only do every other day to allow you resting time inbetween. We'll finish up for today and get showered."

"Sure, thanks Jongho."

You were just turning to go shower when you heard him call out to you in a softer voice than normal.

"Uhh...Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to get a coffee or something when were done here?" He looked a little unsure of himself, which was unusual because here in the gym he always seemed very confident.

"Oh...Uh, sure. I guess we could." You felt quite awkward yourself and you realised again that, although you were spending time with Jongho, you weren't really socialising - too busy concentrating on training. Nerves started to rush through you at the thought of trying to have a conversation with just the two of you but he'd been so kind to help you, you didn't want to say no.

Not wanting to keep him waiting you showered as quick as you could and towel dried your hair, leaving it to dry on it's own. You put on the same kind of baggy clothes you always wore and headed out of the women's changing room to meet him.

Your 'training instructor' smiled warmly at you when you walked over. "I know a nice coffee shop not too far from here, we can go there if you like?"

"I'm fine with wherever you want to go." You told him, smiling shyly.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with just a bit of small talk between you. You weren't sure if Jongho was shy like you or just quieter than the other boys - some of them were so loud they didn't give the others a chance to say much. Maybe he was just the kind of person who didn't feel the need to fill the silence.

Every now and then as you were walking you saw him steal a glance at you from the corner of your eye. You tried not to think it was because he was judging you but that was always your first thought whenever anyone looked at you. You weren't always like this, in fact you used to be confident and get a lot of attention from boys. How you were now was the result of the systematic destructuction of your self-esteem over years. Being constantly told you weren't good enough, attractive enough, thin enough, pretty enough. Being made to feel like no one else would ever want you. You used to like the attention you got but now whenever anyone looked at you, you were sure it was because they were judging how you'd 'let yourself go', as your ex would so often put it. But you'd been doing well with trying to see the positive side so you dismissed those thoughts because why would he ask you to get coffee if he was embarrasssed to be seen with you?

The cafe was one you'd not seen before and you could already see it was pretty just from the outside. It looked more like an independent shop than part of a large chain with old-style signage and the cafe name in italics.

Jongho held the door open and you walked in to find small tables with a little vase set on each one. Inside each vase was a pink flower which complemented the colour of the cushions on the ornate chairs. There were fairy lights hung aroung the cafe which gave it an almost magical feel.

"Wow, this place is really pretty." You breathed as Jongho led you to a vacant table and held out your chair for you. Shyly you thanked him and sat down on the plush seat. It was just as comfy as it looked.

"What would you like?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to get it - I can pay for mine." Before you could even get your purse out of your bag Jongho had reached out to stop you. His hand was warm on yours and - surprisingly to you - you didn't immediately pull away.

"Please, it's no problem. Let me get it." His tone was soft but you could see from the look in his eyes that he had no intention of letting you pay so you reluctanly gave in.

"Okay, if you must. A hot chocolate, please."

"Cream?"

"No, thanks."

Jongho went to place the order and you sighed, you didn't like other people paying for you, especially if you didn't know them well. You remembered all the times your ex would pay for things but then make you feel bad about it. Complaining that you didn't earn enough and that he had to help you out. You had never asked him to and he didn't need to. It was just another way for him to belittle you and make you feel worthless.

As you waited for Jongho you thought about your 'realtionship' with him. At the moment it was only at the gym that you interacted. At the boys' dorm the louder members usually dominated the conversation so, although you did sometimes speak with him, you hadn't had much of a real conversation together. You didn't think you could call him your friend yet but you wanted to be able to. Maybe if you were brave and made the effort you could make a good start today.

The clink of the mugs being placed on the table startled you out of your thoughts.

Jongho laughed a little, "Sorry, did I make you jump?"

"Yeah," A sheepish look crept onto your face, "I was lost in thought."

"Oh? About what?"

"Well...we only really talk at the gym. I was thinking it would be nice to get to know you better outside of exercising."

It wasn't easy for you to put yourself out there even this little bit. In addition to judgement you always expected rejection. Except for Hongjoong you'd never had any good friends. You'd had people who you hung around with but not that you'd call real friends. You'd never felt accepted by the other girls. Rejection was what you feared every time you tried to make friends now.

"I'd really like that." You looked away shyly and blew on your hot chocolate as Jongho smiled brightly at you. You didn't really know where to go from here because it was so unlike you to even start a conversation let alone try to make a friend.

"I'd also really like you to share this red velvet with me." He said, indicating to a ridiculously-sized piece of cake sitting between you on the table.

"Oh, no...I really shouldn't." The cake did look amazing but you'd been so good lately, for once managing to stick to a healthier diet that didn't include your usual excessive amounts of cake and ice cream. You hadn't cut them out completely, just reduced to a normal amount. In addition to exercise, Jongho had helped with dietary advice; telling you not to forbid yourself anything but to balance your intake better. In the past when you cut out treats completely, it had always gone badly. You'd stick to it for a few months then crack and go on a binge. Jongho advised to make sure you get the proper amount of carbs, protein and nutrients to keep a balanced diet and stay healthier.

"Don't make me eat this all on my own...pleeease?" The pout that accompanied his plea was possibly the cutest thing you'd ever seen and definitely not something you could win against.

"Oh, alright. I'll have a little bit." You sighed, giving in to him again. "But only because you looked so cute. Pouting like that is a really dirty tactic, you know."

"I know," Jongho smirked, "...but at least you think I'm cute."

He flashed his signature gummy grin at you and you blushed, looking away. You wondered where on earth that confidence to call him cute even came from but as you sat talking to your training partner you found it amazingly easy to talk to him - comfortable, even. You had thought him shy because he didn't say much around you when the other boys were there but he didn't seem that way now it was just the two of you. He talked about so many different things and carried a lot of the conversation so confidently. He made you feel perfectly at ease and despite your fear of eating in front of other people he even managed to make you forget that, too. He was making you laugh with his terrible 'dad' jokes so much that when he held his fork out for you to take a bite of the moist red velvet cake, you were just too distracted to feel self-conscious.

Even when Jongho guided you out the door with his hand on the small of your back you didn't flinch away, you felt so comfortable with him.

"Wow, I didn't realise we'd been in there so long." Looking around the darkness outside confused you. It hadn't seemed like you were in there for that long.

"It is pretty dark now. I can walk you home...I mean, if you want that, of course." Jongho really was being quite the gentleman today; you idly wondered if this was what he was normally like or if he was just offering out of politeness because of the dark.

"It's okay, I'll be fine. My place isn't too far from here." You didn't want to put him out any more. Your apartment was in the completely opposite direction to the boys'.

"Oh." You weren't sure but he looked almost disappointed. Most likely just worried about you walking alone in the dark. "Well, get some rest before our next session. Be careful walking back."

"I will. Thanks for the hot chocolate...and cake." You smiled and waved before turning and making your way home, feeling really happy for once.

In bed that evening you found yourself going over the days events in your mind again. Not worrying over any errors you made that might make you look stupid, like you normally would but being thinking about Jongho and hoping you could think of him as a proper friend now. He was so kind and patient with you when you were working out at the gym but you had to admit you had much more fun with him afterwards.

You found yourself replaying the meeting in your mind; the silly jokes he made, how he looked so cute when he was trying not to laugh at them himself as he delivered the punchline. His smile really was so pretty.

As usually happened, though, the self-deprecating thought crept back in as you pondered just how good-looking he was and wondered what people must have thought seeing someone like you with someone like him. You really weren't in the same league as him. You could see just how easy it would be to fall for him but that didn't make any difference; it's not like he'd ever like you back. Why would he when he had tons of perfect-looking girls around him to choose from. Backing dancers, other idols, you couldn't compete with a single one of them. Your ex loved to remind you that no one else would ever want you looking like you did but at least if you remembered that and didn't get your hopes up, you couldn't get hurt again when the inevitable rejection came.

#ateex x fem reader #ateez x reader #atzinc #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez jongho #Ateez hongjoong #ateez ot8 #ateez fluff #body shaming #body positive #idol ateez

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter Ten

Title: Past, Present, Future

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip

It’s been a productive morning. Breakfast had turned into an enormous affair; seemingly endless supplies of pancakes, french toast and eggs and bacon being shared amongst the ten people gathered. Although much more reserved and quiet than Millie, Alannah had held her own in the midst of the chaos and chatter; the only child initially nervous and withdrawn but quickly and seemingly getting accustomed to the level of noise and activity that comes with so many children in one house. She’s a lovely little girl. Smart and witty; always offering to help out with food prep and dishes whenever she’s over for a meal, full of compliments in regards to food and decor and possessing remarkable manners and social graces for someone so close to their teenage years. In a way she reminds Esme of the younger version of herself; shunned by her own family and desperately searching for people that will both accept and love her. Perhaps that’s why she’d been so willing and eager to bring the eleven year old into the fold; remembering what it was like to be surrounded by family yet feel so alone at the same time. It’s a horrible feeling; knowing that you’re not what your mother -or both parents in Alannah’s case- wanted and never allowed to forget it. It’s isolating and soul destroying. Causing problems that deeply imbed themselves in your psyche; battling with the destruction and never still weeping and sore wounds that hang around even as a an adult. She hadn't been as fortunate as Alannah; no one else that had been willing to embrace her as ‘one of their own’ and give her what she had so desperately needed AND wanted. And there’d be no way she’d wanted another kid going through that same thing; feeling alienated and lost as a kid and then having your adult years just as messed up and troubled.

So many bad decisions could be directly blamed on the behaviour she had witnessed growing up. Able to make friends yet unable to form real bonds with them. Growing tired of romantic partners; annoyed by the sounds of their voices and agitated by the touch of their hands and winding up feeling physically ill at the thought of them even touching her in an intimate way. The idea of being that close to someone had always turned her off instead of the opposite; a handful of brief and non intimate relationships throughout her entire high school career before trying her hand at the ‘real deal’ in college. Even then it had been too much work; long battles with her own brain and her own hang ups before she would even let her first REAL boyfriend get anywhere past second base. And she’d gotten married solely because she’d been convinced that Mark could be the one to get her past her issues; she’d learn how to tolerate someone being around all the time and she’d learn how to be a normally functioning adult when it came to having a serious and long term relationship with someone. That had been a disaster; confusing being in love with exactly just settling for someone and convincing yourself that you couldn’t possibly do better, so why even try? And even though she hadn’t loved him, she’d still desperately held on even when he became abusive and turned her life into a living hell. Suddenly afraid to be alone and terrified that his words were true: no one else would ever want her. That she was damaged and crazy and no one in their right mind would ever put up with THAT. And he’d constantly remind her that she couldn’t do better. That she should count her lucky stars that he even stuck around in the first place. No other man would, after all.

“That’s how much I love you, Esme. I put up with you. No other guy would. But I do. Because I love you THAT much.”

It’s weird how things evolve. Or don’t, for that matter. How your past has such an impact on your future. Fifteen years after Mark and she still struggles; moments of extremely low self esteem, lingering mental health problems, an unhealthy and twisted relationship with her own family, a constant worry that -despite being relatively healthy and somehow surviving the most horrible and terrifying of moments- her marriage is only two seconds away from imploding. The latter is irrational and she knows that. Despite Mark’s words, she had managed to find someone that loves her -truly and wholly loves her- despite all of her issues. Who sees past her messiness and busts his ass to help her finally move on and heal from her past. Who looks at her like she’s the most amazing and beautiful woman in the world; who would remind her of that until his very last breath and who -regardless how much it DOES annoy him- always tries to reassure her that things are just fine. He doesn’t care about the other women that check him out or show him attention or even the balls to try and get close. Always finding ways to assure her that he only has eyes for her; a man of few words that never shies away from pledging his unwavering love and faithfulness. No matter how many times she needs to hear it.

Her mother. She’s the one to truly blame for how fucked up her brain is. That lack of maternal instincts and the pure hatred she’d often shown. She had never let Esme forget that she was a mistake; a ‘change of life’ baby that never should have happened in the first place. On the worst of days, she’d often say that she’d wished she’d never even had her. That she should have ignored Esme’s father’s begging and pleadings to keep the baby. They hadn’t needed another mouth to feed; five boys was more than enough and another kid only caused financial strain and emotional strife. Her mother had always refused to acknowledge her own issues that had caused so many problems; her constant cheating, her lack of maternal instincts, her own biases when it came to her children. Even decades later she refuses to accept any responsibility; laughing off any mention of parental neglect or favouritism and shunning any and all suggestion that she was -and still is- emotionally abusive and an expert at psychological warfare.

While there’s no proof that those exact same things exist in Alannah’s home, Esme does hang onto an old adage passed down by Doctor Klein: “if things are that bad out in the open, they’re even worse behind closed doors.” If Alannah’s parents are so ‘out there’ with their distaste for each other and with their roles as parents, things are probably much darker and direr at home. And if she can give the kid a glimpse of a somewhat normal family and the experience of having siblings and people around her that do value her and appreciate her and show her attention and affection, it’s the least she can do. It’s too late to mend her own issues and it’s not possible to go back and time to change things, but she CAN alter Alannah’s present AND future.

Desi arrived at ten. Quite the baker and chef himself, he had offered to help Tanner in his culinary pursuits; bringing over his most expensive pots, pans and baking sheets and a stash of both exotic and common ingredients for the ten year old to experiment with. And with Millie the only other child left in the house, it had given her the opportunity for a little ‘me time’; the rest of the kids having gone with their father to assist in his pursuit for last minute Christmas gifts and the items she’d jotted down a list prepared right before he stepped out the front door. Some time in the gym had done her a world of good. Forty five minutes on both the treadmill and the rowing machine, followed by some time with the weights and working up a sweat punching and kicking at the heavy bag; the latter successfully enabling her to shed the anger and bitterness towards Mark, her own mother, and Alannah’s parents.

While she isn’t quite nearly as devoted and motivated as her husband is -often working out twice a day, two to three hours at a time- when it comes to fitness, she find it DOES help; getting her heart rate up and her adrenaline flowing a rather successful combination when it comes to her battle with her mental health woes and her ongoing battle with her self esteem. The latter becoming worse with the arrival of the last set of twins and her inability to shed the remaining twenty pounds -out of forty five- that she’d gained while pregnant with them. She’s nowhere near who and what she’d been before she’d begun having children; missing how skinny yet fit she’d been and how every piece of clothing she’d owned or tried on had seemed to fit so perfectly.

Tyler always rolls his eyes when she brings it up.Quick to remind her that a lot has changed since they first met; he doesn’t expect her to be the same person, in the same way she doesn’t expect him to be either. And that’s a good thing, he’d point out, and then thoroughly list all the ways they’ve both evolved for the better. He’d get that mischievous glitter to his eyes and he’d give that cheeky grin and he’d talk about how much he enjoys her body now; all that ‘extra cushioning’ in all the right places. And then he’d kiss her and embrace her as tight as her body would allow him to and everything would seem right and perfect in the world once again. Those big, strong arms never failing to make her feel safe and protected. In a way no one else has ever been able to.

******

After a long bubble bath- complete with scented candles and a glass of wine- she finally heads downstairs; braiding her still damp hair and securing it with an elastic and letting it dangle over the front of her shoulder. Desi is in the living room; surrounded by plastic tote boxes filled to the brim with various Christmas ornaments that he’s in the middle of organizing. The tree had arrived earlier and now sits in its stand in front of the living room window; seven feet tall and wide and full and filling the house with the fresh and unmistakable scent of pine. The kids are already excited to decorate. Even the normally quick to bore Millie looking forward to what has turned into quite the year event; Chinese take out and hot chocolate stirred with candy canes and the fireplace on while Christmas carols play on the stereo. It’s just a little ‘something’; a simple and silly little tradition that they’d adopted when they’d first moved back to Australia and have been indulging in ever since. There’s been many more adopted; both trying to give their kids the experiences they never had growing up.

“Thought maybe you fell asleep,” Desi says in a way of greeting. “Not that I’d blame you. Isn’t often you get time away from all the kiddos.”

“As nice as a nap sounds, the bath hit the spot. I may or may not have refilled the tub with hot water three times. Just to drag it out a bit. You’ve been busy. You don’t have to organize and clean my house every time you come over. I’m more than happy just to spend time with YOU.”

“A little help here and there is a good thing. Little T was helping me go through things and make them a little easier for you to find. We’ve got shortbread and sugar cookies in one oven, brownies and squares in the other. He’s in his glory that kid. Quite the little baker, ain’t he? He’s got skills. A mighty keen palate.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me at all if he becomes rich and famous for his cooking and baking one day. He’s a talent. In many ways.”

“He’s a good kid. A damn good kid. Reminds me of you in a lot of ways. Got quite a bit of momma in him. And he sure thinks the world of her, too.”

“He’s always been close to me. Since we lived in Colorado. He became quite the momma’s boy when things…” her voice trails off and she reaches into one of the boxes and pulls out a strand of rose gold garland. “...when things weren’t so good between Tyler and I.”

“That bad?”

“Bad enough. We split up. For six months.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. He went through some things. That were totally out of his control. And he made some decisions that weren’t the best. I had to kick him out.”

“You kicked him out? You? As madly and crazily in love as you are?”

“I did. He got back into the booze and the pain meds and he became a totally different person and I didn’t want that around the kids. So I told him to go. That once he got his shit together and could put us before his issues and his job, he could come back. Took him half a year, but…” she shrugs and tosses the garland onto the couch. “...it all worked out in the end. We got back together and we fought like hell to make things work. And here we are. Twelve years into things. And a hell of a lot better and stronger than we’ve ever been. He’s changed. We both have. We’ve come a long way.”

“And Little T?”

“He picked sides. He was three years old. Just a baby still. But he’d seen and heard enough and it affected him way more than it did TJ and Millie. He was scared of his dad. For a long time. Not that Tyler ever did anything to scare him; he never yelled at the kids or hit them or did anything to frighten them. We fought. A lot. And those fights got pretty bad. A lot of yelling and a lot of really horrible things said to each other. Things we can’t take back, unfortunately.”

“But you got past all that. Obviously.”

“We did. I mean, we didn’t MEAN the things we said. They were said out of anger and hurt; none of it was ever intentional. But that sticks with you, you know? You didn’t mean what you said and you hate yourself for saying any of it, but you still did it. And you can’t go back and erase it. Those words existed. Sadly.”

“You can’t dwell on it, Big E. You just can’t. Y’all got past it, am I right? You got back together, you said yourself you’re better and stronger than ever. And I highly doubt he holds all that against you; shit that happened years ago.”

“I know he doesn’t. But I also know he holds it against himself.”

“Well, that’s the bipolar part of things. Keeps the bad shit in his head and reminds him of it during the down moments. He’s doing okay with that? All that shit in his head?”

“He is. He’s been remarkably...well..for someone with the diagnosis he has. I’m proud of him. For handling things like he has. He just copes with it all. Way better than I thought he would. It’s been five years and there’s been no real issues. He takes his meds and he goes to therapy and he manages it all well. I’m proud of him. So proud. He’s done really well. He’s a tough shit, that’s for sure. Probably the toughest person I’ve ever known.”

“You mean when you’re NOT looking in the mirror?”

Esme laughs. “I am not THAT tough. I put on a good front.”

“You’re a tough cookie for a tiny little thing. All the things you’ve told me? That you’ve been through over the past twelve and a bit years? You shouldn’t underestimate yourself like you do.”

“It’s been...interesting...to say the least.”

It isn’t something she speaks so openly and honestly about; how she and Tyler met and everything that had happened in Dhaka and the decisions she’d made on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. It isn’t exactly a topic you’re comfortable discussing with just anyone; your husband being a mercenary and a former alcoholic and painkiller addict with mental health issues. But Desi is trustworthy; kind and compassionate with a heart even bigger than his already enormous body. And it helps to have a confidant; someone to spill even your deepest and darkest secrets to without the worry of being judged.

“I found these,” Desi snags a shoebox off the coffee table and opens the lid as he presents it to her. “Look homemade.”

She peels back the layer of tissue paper and smiles at the contents revealed. “Salt dough ornaments. I remember making them with Millie. We were still in Telluride. Our third Christmas there. I hadn’t even gotten pregnant with Declan yet. God, that seems like a long time ago.”

“There’s four there, though. If you hadn’t had Declan yet, there’d only be three, would there not?”

“That’s not Declan’s.” She carefully plucks out the fourth ornament in question; gingerly turning it over in her palm as she inspects it. The same size and shape as the others, but with the added ‘extra’ of a halo that a then three year old Millie had decorated with gold glitter. It had been her idea; an ornament for the brother that she’d never get to meet but insisted was still very much part of their family. “That’s Austin’s.”

“Austin? Who is Austin? You have another kid I don’t know about? A baby you lost or…”

“Austin wasn’t mine. He was Tyler’s son. From his first marriage.”

“Excuse me….what?”

“He was married. Before me. In the same way I was married before him.”

“You never told me about that. You being the second Missus Rake.”

“There was never really a reason to talk about it. She was his high school sweetheart. They got married pretty much right after graduation. Then he joined the military. Austin arrived a little while later. When he was twenty five.”

“What happened between them? Things went bad or…?”

“It wasn’t the healthiest of marriages. They were young. Probably rushed into things. He was gone a lot and she wasn’t happy being an army wife.”

“And the kid? Does he see him? Do they live in Australia too or…?”

“Austin died.” She finds herself both fighting back a flood of threatening tears and speaking around a lump of emotion sitting square in her throat. “When he was six. Long before I ever knew Tyler.”

“I’m sorry,” Desi lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if…”

“It’s okay. It’s good to talk about it. About HIM. We’ve never hidden it from the kids. We’ve always been open and honest about things. Our past lives, the fact we were both married before, how they’d have another sibling if things had gone differently. There’s never been a reason NOT to tell about those things. It’s all part of who we are. All plays a role in how we got to where we are now. In one way or another.”

“Was he sick? Was there an accident or….?”

“He had lymphoma. It was very aggressive and pretty far along when the doctors finally caught it. The kid didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t last long. Even with chemo and radiation. It was bad. Very, very bad. Just a horrible thing for a kid to go through.”

“And for his folks to see.”

“It was a really bad time. For them. As a family. And Tyler…” she swipes at the tears that manage to escape. “...he was never the same after that. It really did a number on him. I know he seems all big and bad and fearless and intimidating but he’s got such a huge heart. He loves big and he loves deep. You see how he is; with the kids.”

“Definitely loves being a daddy. And they definitely love him.”

“He’s an amazing dad. I couldn’t have asked or wished for a better father for my children. And in a way, losing Austin made him the dad that he is. It was rough. On him. It still is.”

“It’s a hell of a thing. Losing a kid. Can’t imagine what it’s like seeing your own flesh and blood suffer like that. It was bad enough for me; seeing my husband go through what he did. I can’t imagine watching a kid go through that.”

“I often wonder what would happen if one of the kids got sick. If he could even handle it. I mean, once is enough. Imagine having to deal with that AGAIN? And I hate that my brain even goes there. That I immediately think of something like that. He’s tough and he’s strong and he’s resilient. But I don’t think he could handle that. If anything happened to one of the kids or me…”

“He’d deal with it. It’s what we do. When we love someone. But you need to get out of your head, Big E. I mean, it’s beautiful nine times out of ten. But that last remaining bit…”

“It’s a mess. I’m the first to admit that. I can’t believe I’m this emotional over this. It’s a Christmas ornament, for crying out loud.”

“It’s what it represents. It’s your husband’s pain. So it’s your pain too.”

“For years we never even put the ornament on the tree. Tyler couldn’t handle seeing it. So I just put it away. Until he was ready for it to be out. And then one year, he did it himself; got it out of the box and hung it on the tree and that was that. We’ve been putting it up since.”

“Is that why their marriage broke up? The kid getting sick?”

“There were other problems. It wasn’t a good marriage. For many reasons.” She lays the ornament back in the box and carefully covers it with the layer of tissue paper. “But I guess in the end, it worked out okay. For me anyway. We wouldn’t have met. Had things NOT fallen apart. I can’t say I wish I could go back and change things. Because if I could do it…”

“Change one thing, change everything. The butterfly effect.”

“Whatever you do, do not bring that up to Tyler. Not the butterfly effect itself. The movie. Don’t talk about Ashton Kutcher to him. He’s got this deep rooted and unexplainable hate for him.”

“I feel the same way about Justin Timberlake. You know what I call him? Just to be an asshole? Justin Tenderbottom.”

Esme laughs at that, then sets the shoebox down on the cluttered coffee table and allows herself to be pulled into a tight hug; one of Desi’s enormous hands on the back of her head and his arm curled around her waist. She rests her forehead against his chest; the tears coming easily and effortlessly now. It’s a hurt she’s never been quite able to explain; a painful and long lasting mourning for a child that she never knew.

“You’re a good little wife, Big E. I know for a fact that he thinks the sun rises and sets on you. That you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“He said that?” Esme sniffles noisily and looks up at her friend. “He admitted that to you?”

“He did. And he’s said a lot about you. All good things, too. You are definitely the center of his entire universe. And you know what? It’s a horrible thing that happened. To his son. To him. But if it hadn’t? Well you wouldn’t have what you have now. Those seven kids you got? None of them would exist. And if you ask me? This world is a better place because they do.”

“Mum!” Tanner calls, as he slowly makes his way from the kitchen; oven mitts on his hands as he carefully carries a mug of tea. “I made you a drink! I knew you’d want one. You always have tea right after a bath.”

Smiling, she pulls away from Desi and uses the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe away the tears that stain her cheeks. “You know me very well, sweet boy. You didn’t use the stove though, did you? To boil the water? You know you’re not supposed to do that if there isn’t an adult with you.”

“I used the coffee maker. Daddy showed me how. I know what I’m doing. And it’s safe. I can’t hurt myself. Three milk and no sugar,” he presents her with the mug, a proud smile plastered from ear to ear. “Just like you like it.”

“It’s perfect,” she says, and takes his face in her hands and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “And so are you. The most perfect and precious Nugget EVER.”

****

Two hours later she finds herself lounging in the sunroom; legs stretched out and socked feet against the window, laptop opened and resting on her thighs. It’s a double helping of work; two businesses to keep running smoothly even when thousands of miles away. Scheduling and payroll and Christmas bonuses to take care of for the bookshop employees, emails from potential clients needing fast and efficient ‘solutions’ to serious problems in areas all over the world. Word travels in the mercenary life; a rather tight knit yet extremely competitive circle that moves fast. People with money want the best; someone that chooses a life of relative secrecy yet possesses an astounding and well respected reputation. The list of ‘regulars’ is long and plentiful, and each brings more people into the game; word of mouth making or breaking a company such as theirs. There’s never a lack of work; over forty guys -some with years of experience that had bailed from competitors- employed and constantly climbing. But Christmas is the one holiday where they DO take a break; referring anyone that needs a job done to Anil. He doesn’t take his role of a husband and a father as seriously; dedicated to his work and refusing to let anyone -even his own wife and children- get in the way.. He’s a good man and treats Nik and the girls well; providing for them and protecting them and making sure they never go without. But his loyalties remain with his business, and he is never shy when it comes to admitting or defending it.

She forwards him the emails and then focuses her attention on the bookstore; balancing the books and checking the profits and sending out payroll and bonuses. It’s been a quiet end to the morning; Milie and Alannah upstairs in her bedroom playing on the computer and watching movies, Tanner and Desi finishing their first round of baking and using their break to head outside to play in the snow. She watches them now; Desi’s big body lumbering around the yard as he chases Tanner, who occasionally allows himself to be scooped up and tossed into the nearest snow pile. That high pitched and giggle makes her smile; picturing Tanner’s enormous smile that crinkles the bridge of his nose and the corners of those brilliant blue eyes. He doesn’t form bonds easily; leery of new people and finding it difficult to make friends. But he’d taken easily to Desi. Once saying that it was the man’s deep yet soothing voice that won him over. Along with a gentle smile and warm brown eyes that let Tanner know that their neighbour was a good person with a good heart.

The doorbell sounds just as she finishes and sends off the store’s schedule for January. The melodic chime setting off a flurry of activity and noises; both dogs -stirred for their naps in front of the front room fireplace- now barking in unison, paws sliding across hardwood flooring as they scramble for the door. It’s soon followed by Millie’s footsteps; seeming unusually thunderous and heavy as they rush down the stairs. Accompanied by that thick Aussie accent she’s adopted within the last five years; yelling at Saju and Mac to lie down and shut up and behave or she’ll throw them out in the snow. It’s hardly a threat; both preferring the sun and the sand and their romps in the ocean, but quite accustomed to the cold weather and snow beneath their feet.

“Mum!” Millie bellows in an effort to be heard over the continued barking. “Some lady’s at the door! She wants to see dad!”

“He’s not home!”

“I know that! But she wants to talk to someone! And I don’t want it to be me!”

Smirking, she snaps the lid closed on the laptop and sets it on the coffee table; grimacing at the tightness in her lower back as she gets to her feet. The pain and discomfort is new over the course of the last five years; a small mistake made during the epidural while in labour with the twins resulting in long term damage. It sucks; your body betraying you when you’ve been so selfless and willing to keep other human beings alive inside of you. Pulling the sides of her cardigan sweater tighter around her body, she crosses her arms over her chest as she heads for the front of the house; soles of her UGG slippers lightly squeaking against the wood flooring. They’d been yet another one of her husband’s surprise gifts; a neatly wrapped package accompanied by a bouquet of Australian wildflowers that had shown up a day after he’d left for Cambodia. He’s become a master at it; showering both her and the kids with both simple and elaborate gifts. Claiming that it makes him happy to do it; spending his own childhood going without while his father used their money for booze. And it’s a way of making up for all his past mistakes as well; doing whatever he can to be a good husband and father and erase the mistakes of the past that continue to haunt him.

The woman at the door is tall and blond; clad in a disgustingly expensive leather coat with fur trim, the ends of her wavy platinum hair tumbling out from under the edge of a burgundy wool beret that perfectly matches her heavily painted lips. The smile she gives is phony; the look of dismay and disgust readily apparent as her eyes take in Esme’s more casual and relaxed look. It isn’t the first time she’s seen a look like THAT; the housewives on the school yard and at the soccer park have long perfected it, along with their snide comments about how ‘boring and plain Jane’ she is and how they can’t fathom how someone like Tyler could stand being with someone like her.

“She’s here to see dad,” Millie says. “I said he wasn’t home, but…”

“It’s okay,” Esme assures her, then nods down at the curious and rambunctious dogs now gathered at her feet. “Can you put these guys outside? Before they give me a migraine?”

Nodding, Millie slaps her hand against her thigh; a well used sign that dogs have learned means they should follow her. And they happily cooperate; their tails wagging energetically and their bodies pressed against the eleven year old’s legs as she leads the way through the house.

“She’s very…charming.”

Esme glances up at the woman standing in front of her, and manages a polite yet terse smile of her own. “Well, what can I say? She’s her father’s daughter. Can I help you?”

“You must be Emily.”

“Esme. My name is Esme. Not Emily.”

“That’s a very unusual name. A little...odd...in this day and age.”

“It’s actually quite common. Very old and classic. I was named after my great, great grandmother. And she was born in the eighteen hundreds, so…”

“I’m Natalie.” She doesn’t bother to offer a hand, electing instead to keep a firm hold on the plastic container she tightly clutches.

“That’s very plain. Natalie. Kind of boring. Guess you didn’t have any unusual and odd relatives to be named after.”

The corners of the woman’s turn up in a slight smirk.

“Can I help you? Is there a reason you’re here? Asking for my husband?”

“I’m here to see Tyler.”

“And our daughter told you he isn’t home. Which wasn’t an invite to stick around. I’m sure whatever you want to talk to him about, can wait until he IS here. Or, I could just give him a message and then he can decide whether he wants to talk to you or not. I wouldn’t hold your breath; he isn’t the chattiest person on the block. Why ARE you here? Is there something I can help you with or…?”

“I was hoping to speak to him.”

“And for the third time, you’re being told he’s not home. So sorry, Tyler can’t come out to play right now. And unless there’s something you want to say to me….”

“We met yesterday. He was at the park. With your son. The handicapped one.”

Once more crossing her arms over her chest, she cocks her head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“Your son. With the problems. Travis, Thomas….”

“His name is Tanner. And he doesn’t have ‘problems’. He has Autism. Don’t talk about my son like that. You can come here calling on my husband all you want, but when you bring my kid into this…”

“We had a nice little chat. At the park. We just moved here. My daughter and I. It’s been hard meeting people.”

Esme smirks. “I can’t possibly imagine why.”

“He was very friendly. Welcoming. Tyler. Not Tanner. Just to be clear.”

“And…”

“And I just wanted to thank him for that. For being so nice. For making us feel like part of the neighbourhood.”

“Well I’ll be sure to tell him that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate hearing it. Is that everything or….?”

“These are for him.” Natalie offers the plastic container. “I made them myself. They’re award winning. Used to get lots of compliments on those.”

“Oh how nice. You’re offering him your cookie. I mean, cookies. That’s very sweet. I will let him know that you stopped by with your generous offer. But just so you know, he doesn’t accept...goodies...from other women. So if you’re thinking about offering him any in the future, you might want to stop while you’re ahead. I’m sure there’s other married men out there who would gladly accept. But my husband? You’re pissing in the wrong front yard.”

Natalie’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just making it clear that he doesn’t accept goodies from other women. Ever. And he never will. So if you’ve got something brewing up in that head of yours, you might want to put an end to it now. He’s not interested. And believe me, I think you’d rather hear that from me. He won’t let you down as politely and easily.”

“I don’t know what you think I’m up to, but…”

“This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve come across plenty of women like you. And I’m just cutting to the chase. He’s not interested. Find someone else. Go after someone else’s husband. Stay away from mine.”

“I’m not after your husband. I’m just here doing something neighbourly and…”

“If it WAS something neighbourly, you would have come here to introduce yourself to ALL of us. Not just ask for him. I have to admit though, that’s pretty ballsy; showing up like this and having the nerve to talk to the wife. Most would have just left once they found out the husband wasn’t home. I’ll hand it to you; you’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m just here to be friendly. That’s it. No ulterior motive. You know, I was surprised to hear you have SEVEN kids. When I saw you the other day out in the snow with them, I thought there was no way they could all be yours. You just seemed so fresh faced and young. No way did you look like someone with THAT many children. But now up close? Well, let’s just say I’d look tired and downtrodden too if I got pregnant that many times.”

“My husband prefers the fresh faced and natural look. You know, as opposed to looking like Sephora threw up on your face. He also prefers brunettes. So that’s two strikes against you. Is there anything else? Other than your cookie. Sorry,” Esme laughs. “I did it again. I meant ‘cookies’. Is there more or…?”

“No. I think we’re done here.”

“You know what? I think we are too. And as lovely and sweet as you are, I hope this is the first and last little visit. I hope you fully understood what I told you. About keeping your goodies out of my yard. I think I made it pretty clear.”

“You did. As a matter of fact, you…”

“Have a good day,” Esme manages a smile, then shuts the door in the woman’s face, giving a small jump when she discovers her daughter sitting in the middle of the stairs; her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.

“What a bitch,” Millie grumbles.

“Normally I’d give you hell for the language, but right? She was, wasn’t she?”

“Huge. A huge bitch. You should have throat punched her, mum. She deserved it.”

“You can’t just go around throat punching everyone that pisses you off. If you could, I’d be exhausted. Or in jail.”

“I can’t believe she’d come here asking for dad,” Millie says, as she stands and takes the stairs two at a time, following her mother towards the back of the house. “How rude is that? Asking for another woman’s husband? That’s some goddamn nerve.”

“She’s probably used to getting what she wants. And WHO she wants.”

“Well she can’t have dad. He doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want anyone. Just you. Think she got the point? That she better not try and mess with him? I think you went way too easy on her. I think you should have thrown down. You could have taken her. For sure.”

“Some women don’t care, Millie. They’ll continue to mess around with married guys no matter how times they’ve been warned to back off. Maybe she’s one of them. Maybe this isn’t the last we’ve seen of her. Who knows.”

“If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay away. You were tame. Dad won’t be. He won’t be nice.”

“Maybe that’s what she needs. She needs a man to tell her where to go and how to get there. If there’s one thing your dad is a professional at, it’s telling people off. Don’t worry about her ; she’s harmless. Your dad wouldn’t touch her anyway. He’s not the type. To do things like that.”

“I think it would be hilarious to see him tell her off and really embarrass her. And what are those supposed to be?” Millie nods at the container Esme drops on the island.

“Cookies. She made them for him. Isn’t that so sweet?”

The eleven year old makes a dramatic gagging noise. “She probably poisoned them. In hopes you’d eat them. Probably wants to kill you off and become our step mother. They look like shit anyway. Throw them out. I would.”

“I’ll let your dad decide what he wants to do with them. And her. The ball is in his court now. He can decide what to do from here.”

“I hope he tells her to piss off. That’s just plain weird; coming over to some married guy's house and asking for him. On what planet is that okay to do?”

“None. It’s very unusual. To say the least. But like I said, don’t worry about her. Your dad wouldn’t do something like that. He’s a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. That is the last thing I’m worried about.”

“Good. Because she has nothing on you. She’s all phoney looking. But that fur wasn’t. On her coat. I bet she’s obnoxious enough to wear real fur. What a cow. She should have been throat punched for that alone. Don’t worry, mum. You’re way better than she is. You’re real and you’re cute and tiny. And dad loves you. ONLY you.”

“Your dad is the last person I worry about. Other women? I definitely worry about them. Your dad? Never. I trust him. A hundred percent. And speaking of your father, I hope Alannah likes Mexican. Dad’s bringing some home for lunch.”

“She loves it. She loves all the same things I do.” Picking the container of cookies up off the counter, she peels back one of the corners and sniffs at the contents; frowning and making a gagging noise before setting them back down. “They’re not even good cookies. Oatmeal raisin! The abomination of cookies! Dad HATES oatmeal raisin. He says there’s nothing worse than biting into one and expecting it to be chocolate chip, only to discover it’s oatmeal raisin.”

“Your dad loves Vegemite. So excuse me if I don’t take his taste in food seriously.”

“Vegemite is awesome, mom. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Yes. I do. Which is why I don’t eat it. If I wanted to eat shit, I would. Everything okay? You and Alannah getting along alright?”

“She’s my best friend. In the whole world. I love her. And we always have an awesome time and we never get tired of each other. But there’s something I need to ask you. About her.”

“Okay…” Esme slides onto one of the bar stools at the island. “...what’s up?”

“I’m worried about her. The way things are at home. Her parents are horrible. They don’t even want her around. And when she is around them, they just ignore her. They don’t even talk to her. They don’t ask about her day at school or about her friends or anything like that. They don’t even know what her favourite movie or tv show is or what celebrity she has her crush on. What parent doesn’t know that stuff? You and dad know that stuff about us.”

“Dad and I care. We like knowing about you guys. You’re our kids. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well Alannah’s their kid and they don’t give a crap about her. I mean, they’re leaving her at Christmas! How horrible is that? Who just dumps their kid off on someone at Christmas?”

“Millie, not everyone has the life you do. Not everyone has parents that love them. Not everyone has a mom and dad that wants to be involved in their lives. I didn’t have it. Your dad didn’t have it. And unfortunately, Laney doesn’t have it. It sucks. Believe me, I know.”

“But what if we could give her a family? A real family? Like you and dad did with Ovi.”

“I’m not sure if I like where this is heading…”

“She loves being here. Spending time with all of us. I mean, she was scared of dad at first. Because of how big he is and all his tattoos and scars and stuff. But she got to know him and now she loves him. And she really loves you. She always goes on and on about you. About how cool and fun you are. And tiny. Like her.”

“We love having her here. She’s a great kid. I hope she realizes she’s welcome here. Anytime.”

“She does. Which is why I want to ask you what I’m about to ask you.”

“Okay. Something tells me this is serious. What’s going on?”

"I want her to come back with us. When we go home."

“Millie, we can’t just…”

“She’s part of the family already. You and dad love her like she’s one of us. And you guys treat her great. She’d fit right in. And she’d love it there. She’d love being so close to the beach and the ocean. I know she would. And she’s not a bad kid. She’s a really good kid. You said it yourself; how great she is.”

“She IS great. She’s an awesome kid. But we can’t just take her with us.”

“Why not? Don’t you want her there?”

“Of course I want her there. But she has a mom and dad. Not very good ones, but she still has them. We can’t just take her with us. There’s this little thing called kidnapping. We can’t just take someone else’s child.”

“You took Ovi. When I was a baby.”

“We didn’t just TAKE him. We had to jump through a lot of hoops. Legally. Your dad had to go and talk to Ovi’s father and try and convince him to let us have him. It wasn’t just as simple as bringing Ovi along.”

“Dad could talk to Alannah’s parents. Talk them into letting her come with us. They’d let her. They don’t care about her anyway. We’d be taking her off their hands. They’d probably be happy about it.”

“Amelia, it just isn’t that simple. There’s a lot of red tape and legal stuff. I wish it was easier, but it’s not.”

“But would you consider it? IF her parents said okay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I suppose? I’d need time to think about it. I already have seven kids. Taking on an eighth?”

“It’s not like she’s a baby. All the hard work has already been done. Please, mum? Would you at least think about it?”

“If it was just as simple as talking to her parents and taking her with us, I’d say yes. In a heartbeat. But it’s NOT that easy.”

“I just want you to think about it. We’d be giving her a good life. Like you and dad gave Ovi. Will you at least think about it?”

“It’s not a decision I can make on my own, sweet pea. I’m not in this alone. I’d have to talk to your dad. I can’t just tell him we’re taking on another kid. It doesn’t work that way. He has to be on board with it.”

“Will you talk to him at least? Bring it up? Just see what he says?”

Esme nods. “I will talk to your dad. But I’m not promising anything, Millie. We have a crazy life. Your dad has his business and I have the bookstore. And there’s seven of you. Taking Alannah? That’s a big deal. That’s serious. And it’s something your dad and I would really, really have to talk about it. That’s all I can promise you. That I’ll talk to him. That’s the best I can do.” She reaches out and tucks some of the wayward strands of blond hair behind Millie’s ears. “Okay?”

“Okay, mum. And I’m sorry. For how I’ve been acting. I’m kinda bitchy lately.”

“Kinda?” Esme grins. “Just kinda?”

.“Okay, maybe A LOT. But I do love you. And I AM sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. I was your age once. I know what it was like. And it was brutal. VERY brutal. You know what that means? The mood swings, the attitude, the skin issues?”

“Aunt Flow is going to be paying a visit soon.”

Esme laughs.”Yeah, unfortunately. The joys of being a girl. You'll be alright, though. It’s a change. You’re growing up. Even I’m having a hard time with it. I still remember finding out about you. And telling your dad we were having you. Seems like forever ago now. We were so happy.”

“Dad was a little spooked. At first.”

“He was. And for good reason. He’d lost Austin and he didn't think he’d ever get to be a dad again. And then I told him about you and we hadn’t known each other that long and it was kinda scary. For both of us. But once we saw you? On that first ultrasound? And we got to hear your heartbeat? We loved you right away.”

“Dad’s miracle baby.”

“He will never, EVER, stop calling you that. He loves you so much, Millie. More than you could ever comprehend. And he’s pretty good, huh? At the whole daddy thing?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t trade him for another dad, that’s for sure. And I wouldn’t trade you either, mum. Just so you know. I know sometimes we don’t get along well. We don’t always see eye to eye on stuff.”

“Well, you are your father’s daughter. Through and through. And your dad and I disagree a lot too. But I love you. Beyond all comprehension You’re my first. My baby girl. How could I not?”

Smiling, Millie stands behind the stool Esme’s perched on and wraps her arms around her mother’s neck. “I love you, mummy. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I love you too, Amelia.” She pushes her fingers through her daughter’s, then presses a kiss to one of the forearms resting across her collarbone. “And I always will.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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mistoelectra · 5 years

Text

Why Jack Harkness deserved better

I said I was going to write this so here it is

WHY JACK HARKNESS DESERVED BETTER (SPECIFICALLY FROM THE TENTH DOCTOR)

Okay, so this is something I’ve been meaning to write for a little while, because I’ve been rewatching New Who from the beginning, and Jack is probably one of my favourite characters, and seeing the way Ten acts towards him makes my heart hurt. It also makes me really wish they could have brought Jack back in to interact with other incarnations of the Doctor because I feel like seeing the different dynamics would have been really interesting (also let’s face it, John Barrowman would be hella up for it).

This is gonna primarily focus on Doctor Who events but draw on things from Torchwood because that obviously gave us a lot more info on Jack and his past. But also I’m not going to go too in depth with Torchwood stuff, because that’s a whole different essay with full in-depth vaguely shitty psychoanalysis (I have a degree but I am far from proficient).

Let’s start at the beginning with Jack’s first appearance in The Doctor Dances/The Empty Child, which are admittedly two of my favourite episodes of series 1. Admittedly, he does at first come off as cocky, brash, a little callous, and of course, a self-professed con-man and criminal. Except at the same time, we already get to see some of his heart. His cons are based selling space junk to (what seem to be) rather wealthy parties, then getting that junk destroyed before they find out what they’ve actually bought. He himself states that he believes the Chula ambulance was completely empty, so wouldn’t do any damage, and specifically programmed it so it wouldn’t hit anything living. While this doesn’t necessarily make things any more moral, it still says something about Jack. There are plenty who wouldn’t have even bothered to do that. There’s also the fact that he’s not doing it for money, but in an attempt to get back his stolen memories.

Continuing on, Jack rescues Rose and the Doctor from the hospital, proving further that he is not quite as callous as he might make out to be. Given he now knows they’re time agents, there’s technically nothing stopping him from just abandoning them and getting the hell out of this time period (except possibly his time agency training reminding him that he may have done fucked up and he needs to fix it). He almost immediately places his trust in the Doctor, jumps at the chance to help him, and when the time comes, he doesn’t even hesitate in getting the bomb (and don’t tell me he doesn’t know the risk to himself, because he totally does. He knows his chances of getting out of this are slim, but Jack Harkness is a self-sacrificing bastard if ever there was one).

(Brief sidetrack to Torchwood- Jack mentions in Countrycide (1x06) that he’s proficient in torture and once had a reputation as a go-to guy for getting answers, but it’s never really made clear when this occurred, or if it’s even truthful. Was it the Time Agency? Was it Victorian era Torchwood? Who knows?)

Next appearance. Boom Town. That interesting outfit choice. But that aside, this is where we get to see how smart Jack is. Sure, he’s from the future so he’s going to have knowledge that will sound impressive, but there’s also his plan to catch Margaret, which is pretty tactically sound. Again, Jack was a time agent, so he’s definitely not going to be just any old idiot, not to mention he was a soldier as well. We also see him working on the TARDIS, which is pretty much something we don’t really see other companions do much of in New Who, and certainly not in their third episode, which I think says a lot, both about Jack, and about the trust the Doctor now places in Jack.

The final two episodes. For one, and on a different tangent, Jack keeps a gun up his ass. Is this a common thing? Is this just so the Doctor can’t take it off him like he did before? How is this safe? For two, and on the same tangent, Jack stop groping the robots. Finally, can we appreciate how efficient Jack is? Sure, he’s a little confused at first, but he throws himself into the situation, lets them give him a few different outfits, then calmly takes them down, makes himself a gun and gets out of there without much hassle. His reaction to Rose’s ‘elimination’ absolutely breaks my heart just as much as the Doctor’s, because while the Doctor is just completely silent and lost looking, you can hear and see Jack absolutely going off in the background, lashing out. Similarly, his reaction upon realising that Rose is alive…just yes.

Second side track- how quickly did Jack get that TARDIS key? I mean, I know there were multiple adventures between episodes, but regardless, he had a key by Boom Town. That’s hella speedy.

And then there’s dealing with the daleks. Jack knows how big a deal this is, he was a time agent after all. One hit, that’s all it takes. The Doctor probably would have let him leave Satellite 5 if he’d asked, but he didn’t. He stepped up, almost certainly knowing he was going to die, but willing to do whatever he could to give the Doctor any little scrap of time he could. And he gets killed for it. And then he gets brought back to life, and he’s surrounded by dalek dust, and he gets to watch the TARDIS leave without him. And his expression is just so heartbroken, and it hurts so much. What is he thinking? Is he hoping they’ll come back for him? Does he think that they think he’s dead so they’ve left without him?

And this is the first of the Doctor’s assholery (albeit this is still 9 and not 10). He just abandons Jack, without any form of explanation as to what has just happened, on a satellite surrounded by dalek dust and corpses. While I appreciate all the Doctor was going through and the whole ‘Jack now makes me physically sick’ thing, like dude, c’mon, you owe him an explanation. He has literally just died for you, it’s the very least you can offer.

And then there’s all the shit Jack goes through before they reunite again. I could spend all day going into depth on this but let’s just summarise it: managing to get back to Earth, ending up in 19th century Cardiff, 150 years of waiting which include: dying a lot (like seriously, he has at least two separate times where people essentially kill him on repeat just because he can come back, don’t tell me that doesn’t have an effect on your psyche), being tortured, being more or less coerced into a job, two world wars, several lost loves, his boss killing the entire team and then himself, being forced into a leadership position that he does not want, recruiting his own team, Canary Wharf and Rose’s name on the list of the dead, Suzie, being shoved into the rift (Thanks Ianto), a cyberwoman in his own basement (Thanks Ianto), being blamed by his entire team for the faeries and Jasmine, watching another man out of his time kill himself and being unable to do anything but keep him company, watching one of his team more or less let a weevil attack him, being mutinied against and killed by a team member (Thanks Owen), and then getting his life energy devoured by a legitimate hell beast.

And then the Doctor shows up, and Jack runs for him, and the Doctor runs away. Nothing like a stinging sense of rejection and a jaunt to the end of the universe to help your self esteem. And pretty much the first thing the Doctor does is criticise him. And what’s worse is that the Doctor won’t even admit that he abandoned Jack. ‘Busy life. Moving on.’ It’s just such an incredibly callous statement that just completely ignores Jack’s feelings and just seems to treat him as a piece of trash to be discarded. And Jack would be wholly within his right to go off at the Doctor, but he doesn’t. Instead he asks about Rose, and there’s the hug, because he can just tell that the Doctor has something against him, but Rose is a somewhat neutral territory.

Cue the Doctor being blatantly rude to Jack for an entire scene about both his vortex manipulator and his abandonment, as well as making it more or less clear to Jack that he knew all along about Jack’s immortality. That him being left on the Game Station was no accident. And that’s just cold. And yet despite all this, the moment Jack’s with them again, the Doctor’s immediately controlling him. Dictating what he can and can’t do, and in all honesty, it feels very much like he’s still treating Jack as the brash playboy he knew in his last regeneration? Like he can’t see just how much Jack has changed since they last met, how he’s most certainly not the same man he was. He also willingly throws Jack into a situation which is dangerous and will probably cause him pain (don’t tell me that radiation chamber didn’t cause Jack pain. Just because it can’t kill me doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt) just because he knows Jack will do anything for him (and also Jack would probably volunteer anyway because he’s that sort of person). And he admits to Jack’s face that he’s known all along, that he ran away from him. He point blank tells Jack to his face that he’s wrong and that he can hardly bear to look at him, without so much as a thought to how that’s bound to feel. Asks Jack if he wants to die. The whole conversation just makes me feel on edge because it does not feel at all like a healthy friendship.

Then, when Jack tells him he’s with Torchwood, there’s the Doctor’s reaction, and it’s just so vehement. His lack of belief in Jack is just heartbreaking, because it’s such a switch from his relationship with the 9th Doctor. It’s like Jack isn’t a companion to him anymore, but more of a sort of tool. And in the Year That Never Was, we pretty much get implied that Jack gets repeatedly tortured and killed for at least the third time in his existence, over and over for an entire year. It seems pretty likely too that the Master probably executes the rest of the Torchwood team too, probably using them in an attempt to break Jack. Sure, it all gets reversed, but it clearly fucks with Jack (and we can see that in Torchwood series 2). But Jack holds up the brave front, destroys the paradox machine. And you can bet it probably hurt him like hell when the Doctor mentions keeping the Master in the TARDIS, because it kinda seems like he’d rather have the Master there than Jack. And sure, he offers to let Jack come with him, but I feel like it’s an empty offer. He knows that Jack has found something else in their time apart, knows he’s probably not going to accept. And then of course, he breaks Jack’s vortex manipulator. While I do understand this, it also makes me sad, because if he’d at least left the teleport function working, there’s a chance that Owen and Tosh could have been saved.

Jump to their next reunion after Jack has faced the following: dealing with the psychological trauma from all the shit that just happened to him, losing Owen, bringing him back, finding his long lost little brother and being stabbed by him then buried under Cardiff for nearly 2000 years, being frozen for like a century, having to stop his little brother, losing Tosh, losing Owen again. And when the world needs saving, Jack doesn’t hesitate to jump straight in, especially once they get through to the Doctor, even though he is quite clearly terrified of the daleks. He’s the only one to actually be somewhat calm and methodical when the Doctor is shot. In the dalek ship, he willingly sacrifices himself in order to be able to explore the ship more and find some way to help them. But the moment he starts making threats, there’s the Doctor’s disapproval back again. But they do it, they save the world, they go home.

And then Children of Earth happens. Jack’s entire world shatters. He loses Ianto. He has to sacrifice his own grandson to save the world. The Doctor is nowhere in sight. Jack leaves Earth, crushed. And the Doctor does his little journey through the companions to say goodbye. He saves Martha and Mickey. He gives the scratch card for Donna. He saves Luke for Sarah Jane. He visits Rose just to see her again.

And Jack?

He gives Jack Alonso. And maybe it’s just me, but I find it wholly uncomfortable. It’s a possibility the Doctor doesn’t know about the whole affair with the 456 and what Jack went through, or that he more specifically doesn’t know about Jack’s losses. But it’s also possible that he does. And he feels like the best thing he can do is to essentially offer him a shag. Even though he’s very clearly heavily grieving (No hate to Alonso, I love him) and has just lost someone he deeply loved. It feels like further confirmation of the fact that Ten still sees him as the playboy he was. Because let’s face it, Jack still flirts like a champ, but Torchwood very much paints him as that only extending to his flirting. Any further seems to fall exclusively within having relationships, which are considerably infrequent in the series (with Estelle, Angelo, Lucia and Ianto seeming to be the principal partners in his life over his 150 years). To be fair, this ‘gift’ to Jack doesn’t really seem so much an asshole move, as just Ten no longer understanding Jack, not in the way he used to.

But yeah, this got kinda longer than I initially expected and could probably do with severe editing but oh well, here it is in it’s entirety anyway.

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certifiedskywalker · 5 years

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One of Those Days - Bucky Barnes

Everyone has those days when they feel worthless; when they feel ugly and disgusting. For you, those days are rough. All you want to hideaway. Luckily for you, Bucky Barnes loves you anyway.

WARNINGS: Bad self-image, overall body negativity

You stood in front of the mirror, brows furrowed as your eyes scanned up and down your body. A sigh passed over your lips as you released the breath you were holding in. In the moment the air escaped your lungs, your body shifted and reverted to its natural state. The image of your reflection left a stinging in your eyes. You bit back the tears that had begun to gather.

You turned in the mirror, glancing at your back. The change of view helped very little, as the weight in your heart seemed to grow ever more heavy. Nothing looked right anymore, not to you at least. Tracing your fingers over each curve and dip your body had to offer, salty tears trailed down your cheeks. With each step and turn, flesh jiggled in a unflattering manner.

Reaching for a robe, you wrapped your nearly nude form with it’s soft warmth. Your new hiding place did not dull the ache in your brain as you stared into the mirror once more. You knew what lurked beneath the fluffy layers of fabric and deep within your soul, you were disgusted with yourself. Being surrounded by healthy, slim agents everyday did not help with yourself-esteem. Not even the fact that one of those very agents loved you seemed to do the trick.

Almost as if he sensed your thoughts of him, Bucky spoke from the other side of your bedroom door. Your heart jumped when his low voice called out from behind it. “Y/N? You alright, doll? The door is locked.” Quickly, you darted over to the door to unlock it. You tried your best to hide your pink face when Bucky pushed it open. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned to face him, noticing the way his blue eyes stared up and down your body the same way you did moments ago. What you failed to notice was the love that lingered behind his gaze and the concern etched into his features. He stepped towards to cautiously, reaching a gentle hand towards your face. Bucky’s rough skin traced the tear stains on your cheeks, his eyes glued on yours as he did.

“What’s wrong?”

The question lingered between you, weighing heavy on your shoulders. Burning hot embarrassment seeped into your soul as you cringed away from his touch. Your flinch only drew more worry from Bucky as his hands grasped at your own. He pulled you closer to him, his gaze never leaving your face; not even for a second.

“Y/N, please tell me.” His voice came out like a plead. His tone broke your heart and prompted the stinging tears to return to your eyes. You didn’t want Bucky to worry about you, but you couldn’t keep it all in anymore.

“I’m so...gross...appalling...how could you….” Before you could finish, sobbed began to shake at your shoulders. Cries of hurt caused by some invisible, internal force reverberated in your throat and shattered Bucky’s soul. His strong arms pulled your frame to his warm chest. While the contact was a comfort, your sobs continued on.

Minutes passed filled with your tears and cries while Bucky simply held you. He knew there was nothing he could say in the moment that would stop the tears. It was something he had learned from Steve. Sometimes it was just better to cry. So he just held you, waiting until your eyes were somewhat dry to speak up.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice serious but soothing, “you are not, you are never gross.”

“But I’m not strong like Nat or as pretty as Maria. Their bodies are-”

“Their bodies are not yours and I love yours because I love you.”

“Buck…” Your heart warmed at his sentiment, but the bitterness still lingered. “I don’t like how I look. My stomach, my arms, my everything it isn’t…” You raised your hands in the air, gesturing to nothing and yet everything all at once. “I’m not hot or beautiful…”

Bucky silently nodded, a frown imprinted on his pink lips. His hands moved, clutching both of your arms lovingly. He traced his fingers down your biceps to your forearm, down to the tips of your fingers. You tried to read his expression but his eyes were glued on your hands.

“These arms may not be strong, or the muscles defined but they’re yours.” He pulled your hand up to his lips and began to press searing kisses along your arm. Soon his lips met with your shoulder and he pulled back to look into your eyes.

“This stomach isn’t flat because it really isn’t meant to be.” His hands gracefully brushed along your abdomen, still covered by the robe’s soft material. “You look like you, not Maria or Nat. You’re different. That’s what makes you, you and so beautiful.”

Bucky’s hands moved then, up towards your face. His palms cupped your cheeks, his thumbs skirting over your brow bone gently. You lifted a hand and covered one of his in a grateful gesture. Bucky always knew how to calm you. Without fail, he always managed to soothe your nerves just as you did for him. Your relationship was a true partnership.

“I love you, Y/N, even the part of you that you don’t find all that pretty. Doll, you’re gorgeous, even if you can’t see it. I’ll always be here to remind you.”

You pulled one of his hands from your face and squeezed it gently. Leaning down, Bucky pressed a soft, almost timid kiss to your lips. You savored the sweetness of his words and his plush lips as he drew your body to his. His other hand moved to caress your neck, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. Pulling back only a slight bit, you blinked open your eyes.

Hints of a smile sprouted on your lips as you replied, “I think I can live with that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #buky arnes imagine #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel imagin #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #natasha #steve #body image #body postivity

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jereviendrai · 4 years

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||| ooc; does every character on this blog have bpd symptoms? is this problematic, considering they’re all villains or would-be villains? is there a way to give a villain a mental health disorder without stigmatizing the disorder? well--

OH AND BIG TRIGGER WARNING FOR A WIDE RANGE OF MENTAL HEALTH TOPICS SUCH AS: eating disorders, mental illness, stigmatization of mental illness, self harm, suicidal tendencies, and a fuckload more. I don’t go into detail. There are just mentions. I’m not gonna say a bunch of graphic shit, I promise! If I went into graphic detail, this would turn into a PhD thesis proposal, and that’d be WAY too long to be worth writing. Also I have BPD, but I’m not going to pretend that I’m an expert on the subject. I’m not. My word is not law, but it’d be nice if my word was taken into consideration.

this post got so fucking long and disorganized jesus christ

The answers are: yes, not inherently, and absolutely.

I want to get into the mental health of all three characters in a second, but I think it’s important to talk a little about the other two points first. That said, though -- yes, they’re all borderline. All three of them! And they all experience it differently! I will come back to that. Anyway--

I feel like it’s important to talk about villains, mental illness and stigma. There’s a really common (and insanely lazy) tendency for writers to explain a villain’s villainy by simply saying, “oh, well they’re a psychopath,” or, “they’re just crazy.” This is not only lazy and offensive, but it contributes to an unfair stigma against the mentally ill.

Mental illness might, say, compel someone to steal a chocolate bar or snap at someone out of anger. It might make a person’s emotions volatile. It might make someone unreasonable. They might suffer delusions of abandonment, of some plot against them, of people’s secret intent to humiliate them, etc. They might suffer and handle their suffering poorly. They may cause harm. But that doesn’t make them... evil. It makes them complex. And how they react to and handle their negative actions says more about them than any diagnosis could.

When you have a villain with a mental illness, you need to examine how the illness is hurting them. Write about how it hinders their progress. Write about how isolating it can be for them. Write about the impact and struggle. Not how the illness makes them so evil or so irredeemably awful. The illness should be what humanizes them and helps to make them relatable. No matter how untouchable and powerful your villain is, they have some personal struggle that is independent of their villainy. When done correctly, it can go a long way in fleshing out your villain and adding interesting inner conflict!

I know, I know. You might be asking, “yeah, but don’t people with mental health issues sometimes cause harm directly related to their symptoms?” To which I say: yeah, duh, of course. Just like a depressed person might say something mean when they’re having a bad day. Just like someone with ADHD might make someone feel like they aren’t being listened to. Just like someone who has social anxiety might make a friend feel unloved. Just like mentally healthy people also occasionally cause harm.

I’m not saying mental health issues don’t cause problems and maladaptive behaviors. I’m just saying it doesn’t... make someone inherently bad -- real or fictional. And I need people to internalize that.

ANYWAY ON TO THE CHARACTERS AND THEIR BPD

(i know, you’re probably like, “dude oh my god shut up and get on with it” sakjlfdkjsa)

I’m going to be referring to the four subtypes. I know these are controversial to some people. Some really don’t like these labels, others feel comforted by them, etc. They’re just to make it easier to talk about this whole thing. No one fits neatly into any one subtype! Some people don’t resemble any particular one! Everyone is different! Don’t box people into these subtypes if you haven’t been given consent, thanks!

Mr. A / Clark Donovan Mr. A is a classic example of the Quiet Borderline. Someone with quiet BPD mostly directs their symptoms inward. It’s harder to detect than other types, as the symptoms that are most prevalent are mostly expressed, well, inwardly. Self-esteem issues, self-blame, insecurity, withdrawing emotionally, pretending you’re not angry when you are, self harming tendencies, suicidal thoughts, etc. He’s also kind of clingy. Mr. A is an extremely loyal person to a fault. He is a people pleaser and will go to the ends of the Earth to make his loved ones happy, even if it hurts him. This is of detriment to him, as he often finds himself getting hurt on behalf of people who might not care as much as he does. He’s let a lot of bad people into his life solely because they made him feel loved, wanted and useful. He views everyone he loves through rose-tinted glasses and only takes them off long after he’s been laid to waste by them. He has terrible issues with self-image and has thus developed an eating disorder. He also has severe depersonalization/derealization disorder, which is a result of how his mental health interacts with his reality-warping powers. It creates a lot of anxiety with him, watching himself phase through things and bend the world around him on a whim. His motivations in life are connected to this, but his motivation to do evil things is not. He wants to bring other superpowered people together as a united front against humanity, as he feels that humanity is a threat to their continued existence. This has nothing to do with his mental health issues. The part of it that does tie in is that he’s painfully lonely and has chronic feelings of boredom, so being surrounded with a shit ton of different people mitigates that. It’s a motive for him bringing people closer to him, but it is not a motive for him to launch an attack on all humanity. He’d be really offended if you tried to accuse him of doing this on the basis that he’s just a bit ill. His illness literally just makes him crave contact with other living beings just like him. He sometimes does bad or stupid things because of this, but it literally has nothing to do with his motives as a villain. As an addendum of sorts, Mr. A’s alias and reluctance to use his given name (Clark Donovan) are a result of identity issues he suffers due to his BPD. He finds it hard to maintain a stable sense of identity, so he just... doesn’t.

Ivan Chanteur Ivan closely resembles what we like to call an Impulsive Borderline, comorbid with ADHD. He is an impulsive person, as the name of the subtype suggests. He’s a thrill-seeker who suffers from extreme levels of chronic boredom, which he desperately tries to combat by any means necessary. Staying still and doing repetitive tasks is literal torture for him. If he cannot get up and move and do whatever it takes to keep himself feeling fulfilled and occupied, he is probably going to fucking lose it. When he is actively vocalizing his boredom on a regular basis, this means the chronic feelings of boredom have reached critical mass. It’s not just boredom. It’s anxiety, it’s agitation, it’s existential dread, it’s an inability to focus, it’s pent-up energy that needs to go somewhere and can’t just stay in him anymore. If he can’t get it out in healthy ways, he usually resorts to self-harm or less-than-healthy pursuits. He’s been known to dabble in drugs, self-harm, occasional promiscuity on a bad night. While therapy’s helped him get a handle on it, there’ve been a lot of stressful and traumatic things going on in his life have have made it a lot harder to keep himself in check. Ivan is pretty charismatic, able to cast a wide net and catch all sorts of people in his social web. He has a sort of natural magnetism that, on a superficial level, should make him quite popular. But underneath it all, he has difficulty trusting people long enough to actually let them into his life. He’ll act like an open book, only to slam himself shut and reshelve himself before anyone can get anywhere near the end. He’s easy to befriend, but difficult to get close to. This has caused him to feel lonely and frustrated. He wishes he could easily form deep connections, but it’s hard and it hurts him. In addition to all of this, he engages in a wide variety of attention-seeking and risk-taking behaviors. He often spends time with people who are not good to him, simply for the thrill of it. This has often gotten him hurt, but he finds it hard to cut this habit in spite of everything. This leads to a lot of frustration and self-hatred, as it makes it hard for him to protect himself. Every time someone hurts or betrays him, he beats himself up over it and tells himself he should know better by now. All that said, though, he’s come a long way in therapy. He’s not quite able to keep a handle on all of it all the time, but he’s managed to secure one or two decently stable friendships along the way.

Eve Laurier Eve is particularly difficult to talk about, but I’m going to try my best. Eve is what happens when you make a conscious decision to be bad. He knows beyond a shadow of doubt that what he’s doing is wrong, but he feels so wronged by the world that he just cannot seem to motivate himself to care. This... again... has nothing to do with his BPD. If anything, it’s his struggles with this disorder that keep him at least somewhat... grounded in reality. Eve suffered a personal tragedy -- the loss of his twin sister in a housefire. Though ruled an accident, he cried foul play. Consumed with grief at the loss of the only person he felt could truly understand him, he vowed to find the culprit and make them pay. This set him down a path of vengeance that would make John Wick blush. Eve grew up as the heir to his family’s criminal enterprise. This put him in a position of power the very moment he was born. This also left him exposed to a lot of terrible, violent crimes from a very young age. Because this was normalized by his family, he internalized and compartmentalized any misgivings he had about violence. By the time he was ready for university, he had been thoroughly trained to carry out hitjobs on behalf of the family. He was a weapon from the moment he left the womb. He was groomed to do terrible things, and it’s because of this ongoing and continuous trauma that he developed his particular cocktail of mental health issues. He mostly fits in with the label of Petulant BPD. Repeated and violent trauma did a number on him, leaving him angry and hurt over what his parents let him fall victim to. He also experiences feelings of self-loathing over the part he feels he played in his own trauma, despite the fact that it started in early childhood. He is self-defeating and self-blaming. He has a difficult time expressing his feelings and has angry outbursts fairly regularly, often resulting in self-harm and suicidal ideation. He’s been known to reach for the nearest mind-altering substance just to get out of his head for a bit. His mood swings are intense and leave him feeling fatigued and anxious. He has severe social anxiety that sometimes manifests as cold indifference. He also has issues with control, has paranoid delusions about the people in his life and doesn’t often believe it when people say that they care for him. He will find any and every piece of evidence that points to the contrary, even if he has to make it up himself. This usually ensures that he’ll end up alone again. He doesn’t have very many close relationships, if any at all. His BPD is not the reason he hurts people. Any hurt caused by his BPD is directed at himself, not at others. His BPD is a direct result of what actually has primed him to hurt people. It’s a direct result of trauma. He’s traumatized. And no, trauma is no excuse for what he’s done -- but his BPD didn’t make him kidnap and torture Ivan while he waited for Ivan’s parents to send in the ransom. That was all Eve. That was his conscious decision to make, in spite of everything in his head telling him how awful and wrong he would be to do such a thing. He knew it was wrong and ignored it, as he was under the impression that Ivan’s family had a hand in his sister’s death. If anything, his BPD aggravates his feelings of shame and self-loathing when he does precisely what his parents had been training him to do his whole life.

Anyway-- I hope this was helpful or at least interesting.

The point I’m trying to make here is that mental illness isn’t some kind of ultimate litmus test of good and evil. A disorder doesn’t make you good or bad. It’s just another facet of who you are.

So... to that end... please for the love of fuck stop using personality disorders as the reason for someone’s villainy. Please. I am begging.

I wrote a bunch of BPD villains in various stages of villainhood because I have BPD and this disorder often makes you feel like you’re evil, a monster, etc. Honestly, on good days I feel like an inherently bad person who consciously chooses to do good. That’s very flawed and I know that logically I’m not inherently bad, but that’s kind of what stigma does. It makes you feel like you’re inherently bad. And that feeling influenced how I write all three of these characters.

This is an incoherent mess but today’s the day I find out if I have coronavirus and I’m so fucking stressed out and hopped up on DayQuil. Thanks for reading any of this, I guess?

#||| ooc;#||| canon; ivan chanteur #||| canon; mr. a #||| canon; eve laurier #||| canon;#PLEASE READ THIS I SPENT SO MUCH TIME #I LITERALLY SPENT HOURS ON THIS FOR NO REASON AKLJFJSAJDLKSKJDKSL #i'm listening to 'the spider' by weezer and it's a fucking mood right now #fucking christ ok tumblr lags so goddamn much when i open this in my drafts so i need to post this now #also yeah i guess this is me telling the world i have a personality disorder hi surprise i'm Messy and Traumatized who knew haha

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