#he totally has what it takes to Stand Up to those challenges...he's just never realized/believed he was allowed to choose that role :')

[neeterloveschenford]

Thoughts on Tim Bradford

I was thinking about some of the things we've seen about Tim over the years and boy, is it now making so much more sense. I know a lot of this has already been meta'd and have been very eloquently said. But I just needed to put my two cents in.

Let's start with what Isabelle said to Tim in 1x12. She never felt like she measured up to Tim because he saw things so black and white. Tim had no idea that she felt that way and never thought that about her. And I've always thought she was wrong and was just projecting her own sense of failure onto him. But now I'm re-thinking that stance. We know from 4x19 and 4x20 that Tim was involved in black ops when he was in Afghanistan. His whole "Reaper" persona is obviously from that time in his service. We know from so many things that have come out in the last couple of decades that those involved in those types of operations often blurred the lines of legal and moral. I think that once he returned stateside that his rigid moral code was part of how he dealt with his PTSD. He probably didn't even realize he was going that far. Think about it, he went from black ops to being "Eagle-eye", the cop that took every order literally and got his shop tagged while standing there. Someone who was involved in off book missions wouldn't naturally be that rigid. I think it was easy to fall back into that type of mindset because of his childhood. I'm sure he needed to have every duck in a row when he was younger to make sure he never did anything to set his dad off. But having seen and done some bad things in the midst of war, Tim had to default back to this to be able to integrate back into society. He's often scorned psychology over the years. So I imagine he dealt with the trauma of war on his own by becoming that black and white guy that Isabelle was talking about. It was only after Lucy entered his life and started challenging him to be a better man that he started to see those shades of grey that life is all about. Remember in 5x17 when he showed mercy to the Make a Dream kid's dad? Season 1 Tim would never. He even admitted that Lucy was a good influence. Chances are he would have mellowed over time, but I believe he still would have had a certain amount of rigidity. That's why he told Isabelle in 5x20 that Lucy was different. She showed him that he had to readjust his mindset to be a better man.

Another thing that struck me is how he is basically treating Lucy like his boot or aide right now. If it was Angela that knew something was up I could totally see it. He could possibly blow up her life and it wouldn't be worth it. She is his best friend, but not his life partner. I could even see it if this had happened circa 5x6 or 5x7 when Chenford was trying to find their way back to friendship. But things have changed. I know that "fierce protector" Tim will do anything to protect the people he loves. I mean he offered to take the fall for falsifying those after action reports so that his friend with a family wouldn't be affected. But Lucy is not a friend, not an old Army buddy or his boot or aide. She is the most important person in his life. The reason he has begun to heal from all of the trauma he has had to face. He can't hide this from her. I am hoping that he realizes that next episode. Cause as juicy as this angst is, I'm ready for it to be over.

One last thing, as hard as it is to watch them fighting, it's what Chenford needs. I think this is going to bring so much to the surface that they need to face. Now Lucy is getting a taste of what being the person left at home feels like when their partner is UC. I think Lucy is going to take Tim to task for the whole going behind her back with Grey thing. And they both are going to have to deal with their communication issues. I feel like they are only going to come out of this stronger.

[the-nysh]

To Stand and be Strong...

While Garou’s words vs actions may often be contradictory (for example, how he often ends up doing the opposite of what he says he’s gonna do, much to his chagrin when he can’t properly follow through with his monster plans), there’s one thing I can certainly applaud him for always adhering to no matter what, where he consistently pulls through practicing precisely what he preaches, and that’s his repeated, personal mantra to ‘stand up.’ To stand up and be strong.

All you have to do is be strong. If you can’t stand on your own, don’t expect someone to come and save you! It’s situations like this you need to be strong for!

The words he tells Tareo AND (with consistent parallels) later expects from the beaten S Class heroes to show him too:

BECAUSE…for this whole time, to even get himself this far, he’s pushed forward demanding those same expectations from himself.

Every time...no matter how tough it gets, how hard he’s beaten, or even despite suffering repeated lethal injuries, he still manages to stand up.

Bang (to Bomb): If you were to suffer such injury…would you still be able to stand?

Amazingly, he rises and does exactly what he says/tells others to do too, but by defiantly sticking to his guns (expecting the most from himself here) and absolutely refusing to back down or lose. During these moments he’s got no one but himself to rely on for a rousing pep talk (and it’s probably been this way for years ever since he strove on his own to become stronger ;.;). So whenever he’s pushed down, backed into a corner, or staggering on the verge of dying losing consciousness, he tells – no, forces himself to get back up again.  

Gyoro Gyoro: This determination of yours, where does it come from?

Demonstrating that kind of consistent resolve, dedication, endurance, and unwavering tenacity is certainly impressive. But most of all, it’s because the bigger reason he’s fighting for (which goes way beyond monsters) is too important for him to give up and die here.

So in the end...did I want to die like this? (No way!)

By continuing this way, he’s hardest on himself to keep going in these desperate moments, but that determination’s kept him on his feet despite every hardship endured. He can’t afford to end things here, so he pushes forward, mentally berating telling himself to be stronger each time, and resolves to stand up no matter what. Even if he can’t always follow through with his monster plans in comparison (cannot actually kill anyone except monsters as he claims), it’s this area instead where his consistency and grit really shine.

Additionally, this same mantra to ‘stand up’ was established in Goketsu vs Suiryu too...but with a huge glaring difference.

Goketsu: Stand up...and show some grit...within three seconds.

Suiryu: This is...inhumane! He truly is...a monster!

While this situation feels like a prelude of what to expect from Garou later, unlike what he does, Goketsu’s method is clinically cruel, cold-blooded torture. Designed to break his victim’s lingering spirit to resist. (Poor Suiryu...) Detached and heartless, beating them when they’re already down...just like what a monster would do. (And just as Suiryu puts it, he’s inhumane.) Perhaps there’s similar roots in their discipline as martial artists, but in contrast, Garou is definitely not like this (the biggest distinction: he’s not monstrous because his heart’s still human).

Jump forward to what Garou similarly demands from the S Class later in the webcomic, and his method to get them to stand is instead a test where he gives them ample time to rise to his challenge. (“If heroes have a reason for existing, now’s the time to show me.”) He’s goading and disciplining them to properly stand up and step forward with the same amount of determination (or greater, after all, they’re supposed to be heroes) that he’s required from himself this whole time. He wants to see what rouses their heroic spirit what they’ve got.

(^Just not...with that kind of determination. Heroes no, don’t fight like that.) Because surely, if he’s come this far, enduring the worst and forcing himself to stand up with a reason to keep on fighting, then those who call themselves heroes must also have what it takes to rise and match him with their own. Oh wait, but what if they can’t? All the more reason why he feels (his) ideal version of a hero needs to properly stand up and become stronger too.

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing

“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.

You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.

“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.

“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.

“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.

Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”

Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.

You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.

You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.

As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.

After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”

You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.

“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”

Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.

“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.

“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.

“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”

“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.

“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.

You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.

“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.

“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.

“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.

“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.

When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”

Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”

After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.

The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.

You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.

“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.

The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.

“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.

“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.

At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.

The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.

Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.

After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.

“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.

“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”

You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”

“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”

Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.

“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”

“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.

Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”

“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.

The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.

Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.

You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.

Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.

Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.

You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.

You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.

You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”

“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.

“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.

You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.

Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)

You: Yeah I’m sure you can.

You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.

Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.

You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.

No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”

You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.

Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.

Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.

“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.

You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.

Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.

Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.

“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.

Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”

Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”

Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.

You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.

You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”

You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.

“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”

You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.

After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.

With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.

After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.

You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”

“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.

“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”

The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.

You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.

Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.

“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.

You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.

You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.

“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.

“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."

Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well

By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…

You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.

He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 26, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Content note: This episode has a lot of lightning, but this post does not have lightning flashes--I’m using mostly stills for those parts, or I’ve snipped out the unfriendly frames before giffing.

Qing-Jie

Having successfully ruined Jin Guangshan’s party plan to get the Yin Tiger seal, Wei Wuxian dashes off to tell Wen Qing where her brother is. She hops up to hit the road with him, but then sorta-faints because she’s starving. In a rare moment of tenderness between these two, he catches her and gently sits her down again. 

Normally they’re busy out-toughing each other, both before and after this moment, but right now Wen Qing is openly vulnerable. Wei Wuxian responds to that, predictably, with all of his kindness and with his usual slew of unwise, impossible-to-keep promises.

As she eats the bread he’s brought her--a parallel to an important piece of bread in his early life--he says they have to believe in Wen Ning’s survival. Cut to: Wen Ning, not surviving. 

I mean, yes, yes, he’s only mostly dead, but he’s never going to be fully alive again, so.  

24 Hour Party People

Back at the party, Jin Guangyao, deliberately, I think, goes to offer his pops a drink while his pops is still super furious and looking for someone to take it out on. The servant lady is like, better you than me, pal, and helps JGY get his drink ready. Pops, predictably, knocks the drink onto Jin Guangyao.

(more behind the cut)

Lan Xichen is standing by with a hanky and a face full of worry. Lan Xichen is so Lanny that he thinks JGY needs to go change clothes after getting clear alcohol spilled on him, rather than just letting it evaporate and smelling pleasantly of booze for the rest of the evening like a normal party guest. 

JGY launches into a criticism of Wei Wuxian, which Lan Wangji listens to very carefully, frowning. Lan Xichen, Nie Huasang and Jiang Cheng listen as well, and don’t speak up. 

A Clear Conscience

Then Lan Wangji *literally* steps out of his brother’s shadow, and speaks in defense of Wei Wuxian. This right here is Lan Wangji’s turning point, as far as I’m concerned. Xichen is gazing at JGY, totally on board with JGY’s spin of the situation, and his shadow falls away from Lan Wangji’s face as LWJ steps forward.

Lan Wangji says, isn’t what WWX said true? JGY puts on his customer service smile and says that the truth isn’t something you’re supposed to go around saying out loud. 

I’d like to say this is what’s wrong with cultivator society but this is really a universal human thing; every society has rules about upsetting the social order, and they are very frequently at odds with basic compassion and morality. 

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng stay silent but Lan Xichen goes and throws Wei Wuxian under the bus carriage, saying his character has changed. 

Lan Wangji nods decisively at this, and bows to Lan Xichen, silently asking permission to follow Wei Wuxian. Lan Xichen grants permission, telling Lan Wangji to do his best. Lan Xichen probably thinks he and Lan Wangji are in agreement, in this moment, but that nod of Lan Wangji’s was nothing of the kind.

That nod was Lan Wangji agreeing with himself; he is going to try to bring Wei Wuxian back but he is also going to listen to him.  Meanwhile Lan Xichen is tying himself in knots to appease Jin Guangyao. The divergence between the brothers will just grow, from this point onwards.

Lan Wangji leaves to go follow his boyfriend conscience, while Jiang Cheng continues to silently listen to the commentary of others, and gets so mad he crushes a wine cup.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night.

Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian arrive at the prison camp, and the first person they encounter is Granny, with a defaced Wen Banner in her hand and Wen Yuan on her back. 

Whenever I read a meta or a fic that talks about how the juniors are so sweet partly because they are “untouched by the war” I want to point to this moment. A-Yuan endures an absolute truckload of war trauma by the time he’s four years old, and while Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji both deserve a lot of credit for saving him at great risk to themselves, Granny and Uncle Four are the first heroes of A-Yuan’s story. His kind, mellow personality has a lot in common with theirs. 

This is followed by an eternity of Wen Qing running around asking if anyone’s seen her brother. Eventually Wei Wuxian gets tired of this and gathers the guards together, threatening them with Chenqing. 

He doesn’t need to play it; just holding it up has every Jin dude instantly kneeling and scared. 

The guards send him and Wen Qing go to a giant field of corpses, where Wen Qing runs around checking to see if any of them is her brother. Wei Wuxian starts off kind of detached and angry, but eventually snaps out of it, tucks away his flute and starts helping her to search. 

Wen Qing finds Wen Ning, mostly-dead with a lure flag speared into his belly. Wei Wuxian grimly takes in the situation from across the field of corpses. 

When he arrives at Wen Qing’s side he sees this talisman in Wen Ning’s hand. 

This is the talisman that Wei Wuxian made for Wen Ning back in Gusu summer school, before the war. It’s the one that Wen Ning was wearing at his waist when they met up after the massacre of Lotus Pier. It’s supposed to literally protect Wen Ning from having his spiritual consciousness snatched, as well as being a symbol of Wei Wuxian’s sense of responsibility for, and affection for, Wen Ning. 

Wei Wuxian, understandably, loses his shit at this point. Less understandably, he is about to decide that the best way to express his sorrow and rage is to re-animate the corpse of his friend, right in front of the corpse’s sister. Like, seriously, dude. Dude. 

Ghost General

This super-questionable decision leads to one of the most badass sequences in the show, which is unfortunately chock full of lightning flashes, so not everyone can watch it. Wei Wuxian and his flute and swirls of resentful energy come marching out of the darkness of the corpse field, back to the guards. 

The guards have decided to slaughter all of the prisoners and then run away, which would be a good plan except they should really have skipped right to the running away part of things. When Wei Wuxian accuses them of killing the prisoner in the corpse field, they claim that the Wens have a habit of falling off of a hill and dying. Wei Wuxian can relate. 

At this point Wei Wuxian summons up Wen Ning 2.0, ultra badass edition, who comes flying through the air with his odd, straight-armed fighting stance and cool solid-black eyes and rock-and-roll hair. 

Soundtrack: *Four Sticks*

Wen Ning proceeds to whale on the guards and scare the shit out of his relatives.

Then Wen Qing shows up and begs Wei Wuxian to stop. She explains that Wen Ning is only mostly dead. Like, if he was fully dead would she be okay with this? 

Wei Wuxian tries to reel Wen Ning in and realizes that he is not actually in control of Wen Ning. Ok, see, right from the first day of Wen Ning 2.0, WWX is aware that his control is iffy. Why does he think he’s going to be able to control him later? 

Anyway, this is where we learn Wen Ning’s grown-up name is Wen Qionglin. Wei Wuxian yells this name, and Wen Ning looks up like a cat hearing the “food noise,” and then proceeds to get control of himself. 

This is such a nice symbolic moment, that will be replayed later in the temple, when Wen Ning saves Jin Ling from Baxia. 

Wen Ning has a remote-code-execution OS vulnerability throughout the story; his soul is at risk of being stolen, and he is magically controlled by Wei Wuxian, Xue Yang, Su She, and Baxia.  Meanwhile Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian, and random kids on the street mostly treat him as a child, despite his clear adult capabilities. Wen Ning’s journey in The Untamed is at least partly about asserting his full adulthood, and his ability to overcome magical control is directly connected to that journey. ��

After getting Wen Ning to chill, Wei Wuxian calls the floating resentful energy back into his own body, which looks about as comfortable as swallowing a burp. 

On the plus side, apparently resentful energy keeps your hair dry even when it’s raining.

Wei Wuxian should take a page from the guards’ book and slaughter all the Jin witnesses to this situation, but he decides to be the better person and let them live. They go running off down the road, where they encounter Lan Wangji and give him the 411, saying that Wei Wuxian resurrected dead people.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian collects Wen Qing--half-fainted, again, in an echo of the start of their journey--and collects the Dafan Mountain Wen group, who are hiding, wisely. When they see Wen Ning, Uncle Four and some others start to freak out, but Wei Wuxian tells them that fierce corpses are cool, and they all grab horses and mount up.

Where Are You Going?

Lan Wangji is waiting for them, nonconfrontationally indulging in some visual poetry while he waits. 

In a show where every prop is exquisitely, carefully designed to enhance our understanding character, his Gusu-toned umbrella reveals surprising red and yellow threads woven in, right above his eye line as he looks at Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian speaks first, saying “you came to stop me?” Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, but asks him where he’s going. Then Lan Wangji warns him that he’s about to abandon orthodoxy forever, if he follows through. 

Wei Wuxian challenges this idea of orthodoxy, asking if Lan Wangji remembers the promise they made together, back in Gusu. It’s worth noting that they both appear to think of it as a co-promise, even though Lan Wangji didn’t speak aloud at the time. 

The conversation will continue in the next episode, because what’s better than a rainy romantic cliffhanger?

Soundtrack: Four Sticks by Led Zeppelin

[evierena]

The Brothers eavesdropping to MC accidentally confessing their undying love for them. Part 1.

INTRO

MC was having their monthly catch-up call with their best friend in the Human Realm. At first, their friend could not believe the situation MC was living, but after a few calls they had finally come to accept the whole "I was summoned to Hell, but it's called Devildom, and now I have to live with 7 hot demon brothers and they are actually kinda nice" situation (yeah, Levi would be proud of my naming skills). Anyhow, during this specific call MC was filling in their friend with the latest update on their newfound feelings for one of the brothers, not knowing that said brother was actually outside their room, eavesdropping! And then, their friend asks "What is it about him that you love so much?"

What did MC respond? How did that brother react and what did he do with that information? Well, let's see...

Lucifer

- He was doing his nightly rounds, making sure everyone was in their room, and when he passed by your door he caught your laughter and he stopped for a second, just to absorb the sound and allow himself to relax a little. Then, out of the blue, he heard you saying: "I think I'm in love with him".

- Well, that was unexpected. He would never admit to anyone the way his heart skipped a beat for a moment there, and absolutely will never let you know that those simple words could stir such feelings within him.

- And then, with his demon senses, he heard another voice coming from your room. "Why? What is it about Lucifer that you love so much?"

- Now, for him, the world completely stopped moving, he put all of his demon hearing to work and capture every little sound around him, even his heart stopped and his blood froze in his veins to allow more silence around him.

- "He takes so much pride in his family, you know? In his position as the protector of his brothers and as the right hand of Diavolo, at first I thought that was it" you said, unaware of the petrified demon outside your door. "But now, I've come to love not just that. I love all the sides Lucifer has shown me, vulnerable, sick, angry, sad, stressed even murderous. He makes me feel motivated to be better, to strive for more, and I feel so proud knowing he trusts me that much. I just love him"

- After that, Lucifer's heart started beating like crazy in his chest, his blood running rampant through his body, and almost all reason escaped his mind. Almost.

- He managed to compose himself but he couldn't help the smug grin remaining in his face.

- Lucifer went back to his room after hearing your accidental confession, although he couldn't sleep thinking about his next move.

- For the following days he started to ampp up his game. He was always smiling at you, asking you to be by his side a little longer each time, lingering gloveless touches everywhere, he wanted to feel you and for you to feel him.

- You thought you were going crazy for sure, you didn't want to put your hopes up, but you couldn't help the throbbing sensation he provoked everytime he came a little closer a little longer, the flirty remarks, the intense stare and the knowing smile everytime you met his ruby gaze.

- So, finally, you went to his room in the night, determined to confess. And before all the courage you managed to gather escaped, you didn't even wait for him to completely open his door before spilling your heart out.

- "Lucifer, I'm in love with you!" you said closing your eyes, afraid of his reaction.

- But he lifted your chin to face him properly and you were welcomed with a smug smile and "I know" from his lips before he stole your breath in a deep heated kiss.

- In conclusion; after knowing you loved him, Lucifer intoxicated your mind with him until you confessed directly, so he could rely his own feelings to you.

Mammon

- It's a bad habit of his to just barge into your room without announcing himself, however, after so many times of you begging for him to just say something before entering, he finally remembered.

- So, he stopped himself on his tracks before doing exactly that, and that was all it took for him to hear your conversation with your best friend.

- "You are a moronsexual, I'm telling you"

- The heck is that?

- Mammon was completely confused, who was a moronsexual? What is a moronsexual? Is that something he could sell? Now, he is interested and waiting for your answer.

- "Shut it, don't call him a moron, 'kay? Besides, I don't see any problem with being in love with Mammon"

- Whoa, whaaaat? Who is in love with Mammon?... Wait, no, Who wouldn't be in love with THE Great Mammon, right?

- Mammon pressed his ear against your door, thinking he could hear better that way, but really it just suffocated the noise, and then he remembered he could just tuned his hearing. He was also beet red by that moment, internally thanking that none of his brothers could see him like that, he would never hear the end of it.

- "But, really MC, what do you love about Mammon?"

- Mammon catched his breath abruptly, remaining as still as possible.

- "Well, I love him because he's Mammon, and that means that I'll never be bored with him, and that he'll always be there for me when I need him, that I can trust him with my soul and he would never let me down. I love him because he is so generous even when he pretends he isn't, he is so sweet and cute but also really cool, and he is a total tsundere but he has opened himself to me, and everything about him is so complex and simple at the same time, I just... I love Mammon"

- You, my sweet MC, have officially broke Mammon.

- All of his blood was in his face, his heart was going rampant, his mind absorbed your words but couldn't understand what they meant, he was both ecstatic and terrified.

- And since he stopped functioning, he didn't realize you were walking towards the door until you opened up to stumble upon a teary eyed, flushed and very embarrassed Avatar of Greed.

- You knew he listened, there was no other motive to his state.

- Mammon stared at you intensely, deeply and loving and your face blushed as furiously as his. You finished the call with your best friend in stuttered, barely comprehensible words, and started fidgeting under Mammon's gaze.

- "Mammie?"

- You see, his brain wasn't aware that he was staring at you like that, he was just marvelling at how beautiful and precious you were. He was remembering all of your conversations; the way you always stood up for him, how you were always smiling at him, and that you never degraded him at all. And when you said his name he snapped back to reality.

- Then, in a both usual and unusual Mammon way, he launched himself at your arms in a very tight hug. Like you were his lifeline, and let's be honest, maybe you were, but he was yours just as much.

- "I love ya' MC" he muttered next to your ears, causing you to hold onto him even more.

- "I love you more, Mammie"

- "Nah, I love ya' much much more"

- And now you were in a duel to see who loved the other more, that eventually led to admit that you both loved each other and that was enough.

- You both spend that night in your bed, simply enjoying the other's warmth, pouring your love to your heart's content.

- And if you ever think that he will be separated from you ever again, you are terribly mistaken.

- Not that you minded, tho.

- In conclusion; Mammon would not wait another second away from you after hearing that you also love him as much as he loves you.

Leviathan

- Boy was going over to your room, to invite you play a new game he had just bought. As always, he had to take a second before knocking on your door to convince himself he wasn't being annoying.

- Then he listened to your rambling.

- "I feel so lightheaded when I'm with him, and I can't stop replaying everything on my mind when I'm alone, and I'm afraid he'll notice and be weirded out that a normie like me is head over heels for him"

- OMFF (oh my f***** father) what is this?? Is this like that time in "I accidentally eavesdropped on my normie best friend and discovered they're in love with me, how can I confess to them without being creepy?" (Ok, Levi would not be proud of my naming skills) no, no, no, waaaait, this could not be possibly be about him. Oh, no, you couldn't have possibly fallen for a yucky Otaku shut-in like him, there's no way... Right?

- "So, tell me, MC, what is it about this Leviathan that you love so much?"

- He was already sweating and trembling, but his heart definitely stopped for a concerning amount of time. If he wasn't a demon, he would most likely had already passed out right there and then.

- "I love how passionate he is, and how he always respects my privacy and he waits until I'm ready to talk, he doesn't pressure me into nothing, he gives me my space, I love how he can talk about what he likes so earnestly. I love that sparkle in his eyes when he's winning a difficult game and his razor focus when he is being really challenged by something. I feel so happy with Levi and I just want to make him see himself through my eyes so he could just stop belittle himself".

- Leviathan.exe has died. That's it.

- He literally passed out the moment those words came out of your mouth, so you heard a loud thud right outside and you found Levi face first on the floor.

- Nervousness is short to what you felt during the agonizing time he took to actually give any signs of being alive.

- When Levi woke up he didn't understand why was he laying in the floor of your room, but the moment his memories came flooding back he stand up and try to run away, his face a blushing mess.

- And as much as you wanted to stop him and apologize, you let him go, because he was clearly not ready for that conversation.

- So, a week passed and everyday you tried to contact him to no avail. Until you were finally done with playing hide and seek, you marched firmly (only in your mind 'coz you were shaking like a leaf) to his room and practically forced yourself in.

- The conversation went as you would think, stuttering, muttering, blushing messes both of you while confessing face to face your feelings for the other.

- And finally, after reassuring him, that yes, this is real, and yes you do love him, him, Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, not one of his brothers or anyone else but just HIM, he accepted your love.

- Levi gathered all of his very little confidence and went for a slight hug.

- In conclusion; this snek boy needs time, and a lot of reassurance to accept the truth and realize it's not a dream, you also love him.

Satan

- He was trying to retrieve one of the books he had lend you to study for your classes, but just before knocking on your door, he thought to himself to better do it tomorrow, it was already late and you were probably getting ready to sleep.

- That is, until he heard your giggling on the other side.

- "But, tell me, what is it about Wrath that you love so much?"

- Satan was confused and intrigued, what's this conversation about? Obviously, something about him, so he's going to listen.

- "First of, he is not Wrath, I mean Satan is the Avatar of Wrath, but he is not just Wrath, at all. He is so much more than that, he is his own person with his own feelings and thoughts, even more so than we are, because he has lived for thousands of years. He knows so much about a lot of things that are completely beyond my comprehension, but he always manages to make them reachable for my limited mind. I love how he can go from being a pain in Lucifer's ass to a soft and doting cat dad, the way he loses himself into compelling detective novels. I got it bad for him"

- Satan was speechless. His brows raised almost up until his hairline.

- He felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his body, did you really thought of him that way?

- Oh, boy, was he blushing, he even brought a hand to his face to cover from any non existent prying eyes.

- He heard you shuffling around in your room, so he decided to retreat to his own, already planning his confession as he was walking away in the hallway.

- That night, Satan wrote you a poem, an essay and a ode to you. He tried to portray his feelings, but he also felt something was missing and he cracked his head all night searching for it. He redid everything over and over again, looking for more beautiful, deeper words to describe the extent to his love for you.

- However, Satan fell asleep on top of all the manuscripts and drabbles of his "failures", and the next morning guess who was asked to go and fetch the blond demon for breakfast?

- Ok, could've been anyone, but for the sake of this HC, it was you, ok?

- So, you went, and knocked, and waited, and called for him, and knocked again, but nothing. So you enter through his surprisingly unlocked door, and found him sound asleep. And it was such an endearing sight, you just couldn't force yourself to disturb him.

- However, you did tried to cover him with a blanket from his bed and obviously (this is also for the sake of this HC) he woke up at the feeling of foreign touch.

- When he saw you, it clicked on him the thing he was missing for his confession.

- Eye contact.

- Satan jumped to his feet, held your hands, and declared his love for you with a deep blush in his cheeks, a little stuttering in his words, but so much honesty and passion in his green eyes, you were lost.

- In conclusion, Satan would try to make a romantic confession but he would ultimately just convey his feelings in a heart melting, brain wrecking monologue, you can't do nothing but love him even more.

If there's any grammar or spelling mistake I apologize, english is not my first language, and I would appreciated if you could kindly point it out for me so I can get better

Thank you for reading.

Atte. Evie

A/N: Part 2 is up! If you want to be tagged in it just ask me & I'll be delighted to.

Have a wonderful day/night and stay safe!

Tag list:

@anonymous-hq

[haikyuucute]

Untamable (Ushijima Wakatoshi) [Omegaverse AU]

Pairing: Alpha!Ushijima x omega!reader

Summary: You seemed like an untamable omega to Ushijima

Warnings: Sexual themes, implied smut

Word Count: 5.6k

[A/N]: So I’ve been rlly iffy about posting this bcuz I know that this au isn’t everyone’s favorite. But I rlly like this au and I have fun writing for it, so I figured if someone doesn’t like it then they can scroll past it or blacklist the tag ‘omegaverse’ anyway, so I decided to go ahead and post this

Ushijima Wakatoshi liked order and he liked things that made sense. He was a simple man and he would call it like he’d see it.

And what made sense to him was the dynamic system. Alphas were placed at the top, then betas, then omegas.

He believed this was right because it was ingrained in everyone’s genetics to follow this order.

It was why Hinata Shouyou had affected him so deeply. He was small, his volleyball technique was a mess and yet he and Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa.

Ushijima considered himself to be a very strong alpha— possibly the strongest in Shiratorizawa. His presence commanded every area he was in and omegas would fall silent at his scent, waiting for him to speak first. He had even been dubbed the alpha of alphas in school.

So it didn’t make sense for Hinata to have so much baseless confidence. It annoyed him and got under his skin to the point he thought about it quite often and how he could win next time.

Another thing that got under his skin was the little omega he shared a couple classes with— only she annoyed him far more than Hinata did.

Because while the little orange haired boy was a weak alpha, he was still just that. An alpha.

And yet, you walked around with the confidence of an alpha.

You were definitely the outcast, most omegas found you annoying and most alphas didn’t like to bother with an omega that didn’t know their place. Your scent wasn’t sweet and delicate like an omega’s either, it was tangy and citrusy (not at all a bad smell, even Ushijima would admit it was nice, just not that of an omegas). And worst of all, if you stepped out of line and an alpha tried to put you back in your place, you’d stick up your nose, turn the other way around, and continue with what you were doing in the first place.

This behavior always sat wrong with him but he never had to come into close contact with you, he’d just catch instances of this in class or in the hallways. Always hating the way you demanded to be seen.

And Ushijima knew he wasn’t in the wrong because everyone had found you strange. You didn’t even have any friends until your third year of high school when you shared your first class with the renowned Guess Monster.

Tendou, Ushijima, and you all shared a science class your third year, and though Ushijima had prior knowledge of you, it was the first time Tendou ever really noticed you.

And being dubbed a freak himself, Tendou immediately wanted to befriend you and it was only a short while after that he noticed how much you got under Ushijima’s skin.

So as a fellow freak and probably the only person other than Hinata that could get a rise out of the usually stoic alpha— well, Tendou just had to become your best friend.

Thus it began.

Tendou inviting you to work on group projects with him and Ushijima.

Tendou then inviting you to watch practices.

Tendou invited you to games.

And worst of all— Tendou invited you to hang out in his and Ushijima’s dorm.

And you quickly became someone Ushijima had to endure all day, every day.

You knew right from the beginning when you started hanging out with Tendou that the great Ushiwaka didn’t want anything to do with you. If you tried to talk to him he’d answer with four words at most or blatantly ignore you all together (then again he did that with everyone, but with you it just somehow felt different). And that was because although he was a strong alpha, he had better things to do than put an omega back in their place.

So he put up with you for days— weeks— months— until suddenly he couldn’t.

In what Tendou liked to call the “staring contest of the year” you had outwardly challenged Ushijima. But!— in your defense it was on an outrageously ridiculous subject that you believed you had the right to believe and that Ushijima should’ve respected that regardless of his own biases.

It was an argument that took place in their dorm while the two of them were there. You had casually walked in, an agitated look on your face, exclaiming:

”I hate alphas!” You yelled, pushing their door open. You ignored Ushijima who sent you a slightly irritated glance from where he was seated at his desk, reading a volleyball magazine or something, and went immediately over to the giggling Tendou.

He was up on his bed on the top bunk and you climbed the ladder, seating yourself next to where he was sprawled out, with a pout on your face.

”Should I be offended~” he laughed.

”You don’t count.”

”That’s more offensive than your last statement.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, you’re the exception— but alphas suck.”

He moved closer, throwing an arm around you with a large grin, “Did something happen? Do tell, (F/N)-chan~” he sang.

“Well... I may have gotten into another fight with an omega.”

”Ohoho~ did you win?”

”I guess. She pulled my hair so I punched her and... found out she has a mate.”

Tendou burst into another fit of laughter, and started poking your side, “Did you try fighting an alpha again?”

You swatted his hands away, “I just stood up for myself.”

”And how’d that go?”

”Stupid. He came up to me and did that dumb alpha thing where they stand up straighter and puff their chests out with the expectation that I’d be a cowering little omega in their presence,” you scoffed, “He told me that I shouldn’t step out of line and start fights with mated omegas, which is total bullshit because she pulled my hair first!” You yelled, falling back against his bed. “I hate alphas!”

“You punched his mate,” Ushijima who usually ignored you whenever you were over spoke up for the first time.

You furrowed your eyebrows, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Yeah, cause she pulled my hair.”

”She was wrong too.”

You scoffed, “So what? The alpha was in the right?”

”You punched his mate, he was protecting her.”

You shot up and glared at Ushijima who was still reading his magazine. ”Well I was protecting myself.” You practically hissed out.

Ushijima finally stopped what he was doing and turned around to stare up at you from where you were seated on Tendou’s bed.

Tendou’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of you, seeing how pissed off you were, and at how Ushijima was taken aback at the tone you used with him, and Tendou’s grin slowly widened.

”You speak as if you’re an alpha,” Ushijima said, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

”I speak like an omega who’s fed up with alphas,” you spat back.

Ushijima slowly stood up and you could smell his scent had changed. It was stronger and more powerful— definitely covering up yours and some of Tendou’s scent. And you could pretty much smell how annoyed and pissed he was with you.

And as a result you felt the omega in you want to apologize and take everything back, bowing your head down, too weak to make eye contact. It was a feeling you had become quite accustomed to with how often alphas did this to you, and you became quite good at ignoring those instincts.

But Ushijima was stronger than all those alphas, and Tendou watched in awe as the most strong willed omega he’s ever met started to shrink in her seat, eyes glued to her lap.

Ushijima stood in front of you, and due to his height he was nearly eye level with you despite you sitting up on the top bunk.

“You’re careless,” He spoke lowly, as blunt as ever, “You speak the first thing that comes to mind with no regard if you offend someone, and you’re surprised when an alpha tries to put you back in your place. You’re an omega.” His voice loud and firm, “Power does not lean in your favor. Learn your place.”

You bit down on your lip hard, finding it difficult to meet his eyes but with everything you had in you, you forced yourself up straight and looked him dead in the eye.

Tendou’s eyes widened at your display but he kept quiet, glancing at how the usually stoic Ushijima looked slightly thrown off guard.

“I will never settle for being submissive,” you spoke slowly, never breaking your eye contact, “And I will never stop striving for independence. You like this power system because it’s all you’ve ever known— I’ll show you that you’re wrong and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

From there the two of you stared at each other for what felt like forever, Tendou holding his breath to see who would give in first. Until it was finally time to go to volleyball practice and Ushijima was forced to look away, making you smile triumphantly.

And so it began. The start of an overly exhausting plan that you were committed to executing.

And if Ushijima thought you were a nuisance before it was nothing compared to now.

A few days after the incident you acted as if it never happened, putting on a cheery and energetic façade. And you actually spoke to him in that same friendly manner you spoke to Tendou and others on the team.

He soon realized there would be no end to your chatter. You’d go on and on about your day, shows and movies you liked, hobbies that you were into, and you’d ask him tons and tons of questions that he’d just ignore but you wouldn’t shut up, forcing him to answer your questions— you even started calling him Waka-kun while you remained (L/N)-san.

But you didn’t care. You vowed that you’d force your way into his heart until he finally saw you as an equal instead of an overly obnoxious omega.

It took months but somehow, by some kind of miracle, Ushijima came to the conclusion... you actually weren’t that bad.

Of course you were still loud, kind of annoying, and spoke out of turn most of the time. But he guessed that some of your better qualities started sticking out the more you hung around him.

For one, you were always happy.

Happiness wasn’t an emotion Ushijima felt often, he knew the feeling of victory when he defeated a difficult opponent in volleyball but that never lasted that long because, well— Ushijima always won...(for the most part). And he knew what it felt like to be satisfied and generally content.

But the happiness you exuded. This absolutely boundless amount of energy and cheerfulness you walked around with despite being put down by practically the entire student body, it made you slightly more admirable in his eyes.

And then he saw your loyalty and devotion towards the team and specifically Tendou. By definition, Tendou was technically your best friend and you made sure to prioritize him in your life because of how grateful you were to call him a friend, this meant inviting him out places and never turning down an invitation he made. You let him talk to you when he was down and comforted and supported him appropriately. And when it came to the team, you were kind of an honorary manager (you didn’t actually have the title because the coach would never trust an omega to do the job) but you gave them water bottles and towels during practice and made sure to attend all their games and cheer for them. So even the team who had been kind of cold to you in the beginning, ended up growing rather fond of you, and you were just as happy to consider them your friends.

But he supposed what stuck out to him the most was how determined you were to be more acquainted with him. You’d ask about his day, his childhood, volleyball, anything really. And you somehow had the ability to pull more than a couple words from his mouth as time went on.

And all from the shadows, the Guess Monster was watching. Observing how a very odd friendship grew between the two of you. And although Ushijima rarely let any emotion of any kind show, after three months Tendou made an educated guess.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was actually falling for you.

From a surface level no one could really tell, but Tendou started picking up on the way Ushijima’s scent would change whenever you were near, it’d grow softer, and slightly more non threatening than his usual scent. It was a small detail but spoke volumes. Other than that, he noticed more and more how he grew comfortable around you, letting you talk his ear off and he’d answer your questions with more than three words. But what gave it away for him was when he had stepped into one of your fights where an omega started yelling at you for acting too much like an alpha. It was the first time he had ever done it and although you told him you could fight your own battles, he doubted it would be the last fight Ushijima broke up for you.

With you it was actually harder to tell if you were starting to like Ushijima back, and this was based off of all your rants he’s heard about you never wanting to mate with an alpha and that you’d much rather mate with a beta. It was hard to picture you with an alpha and even harder to picture you with an alpha as strong as Ushijima.

But he, figured out that yes— you did reciprocate those feelings when he caught a certain sight.

You went out with Tendou and Ushijima one night and stayed up late, you were absolutely exhausted so Ushijima ended up giving you a piggyback ride back to your dorm. And that’s when Tendou noticed the way you nuzzled your face into his neck. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to scent yourself or if you just found his scent soothing enough to fall asleep to— but either way there were definitely mutual feelings there.

The only problem was that the two of you were too dense to acknowledge those feelings.

So as usual Tendou decided to take it upon himself to get the two of you closer.

He came up with a fairly simple but hopefully effective plan.

Not that long ago you came to Tendou and asked if he’d been willing to give you volleyball lessons every now and then after you came to really admire the sport after watching them play for so long. And he agreed of course.

So now it was just a matter of getting Ushijima to take his place—

“I won’t be able to make our volleyball lesson (F/N)-chan,” Tendou suddenly spoke up from where he laid on the floor.

He watched as your head poked over the top bunk where you lay, a pout on your face, “What? Why not?” You whined.

”I’ll be busy this weekend, but!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking over at Ushijima, “Maybe Wakatoshi-kun could take my place.”

”No,” came Ushijima’s answer, from where he sat on his bed.

Tendou frowned at how dense he could be.

You pouted further, “Waka-kun would be mean about it if he helped me anyway.”

”Don’t be silly—“

”I’m not! I can picture it now!” You suddenly made a very serious face, mimicking Ushijima’s, “(L/N)-chan you have awful technique. (L/N)-chan you understand nothing about volleyball. (L/N)-chan you suck.”

Tendou giggled at that, seeing your point, “You’d also be getting taught by a top player in the nation~” he sang.

You paused for a moment, thinking it over, “... We’d probably get in a fight though and I hate arguing with him.”

”You hate it because you lose,” Ushijima spoke up.

”Shut up!” You yelled, moving to hang over the edge of the bed to see him.

He glanced up at your upside down form, “l’m right.”

And since he was always painfully blunt and honest, you knew he actually was right, so you settled on pouting further.

”Y’know people would kill to have someone like Wakatoshi teach them volleyball,” Tendou said, continuing to convince you, “He’s the best of the best, don’t you want to be the best~”

”I’m not that passionate about volleyball,” you deadpanned.

He faltered, until a thought struck him, and he grinned, “Remember that time you tagged along with the team to the beach and we were short one person for volleyball and asked you to play?”

You glared darkly at him for reminding you about that humiliating incident— they were a powerhouse school after all, why the hell would they ask you to play when you had barely any experience. “Yes,” you muttered.

”Well what if Wakatoshi-kun taught you a few of his tricks and you got to show off next time we play together.”

He knew he had you when your eyes widened in realization.

You looked back down at Ushijima from where you hung upside down, “Waka-kun teach me volleyball.”

”No,” he replied, looking down at his homework.

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

“Ugh— why notttt,” you whined.

”Because you don’t play volleyball.”

”Well I want to show off to the team the next time you guys force me to play.”

”You still wouldn’t be as good as them.”

You frowned, “I already know that, but you don’t always have to say the truth.”

Ushijima couldn’t help himself when he looked back up at you, something in your tone bothering him. And the pout and look in your eyes really bothered him for some reason. But he didn’t like being the cause of it and he really wanted to see it leave your face.

“Fine,” he gave in. He watched as your face instantly lit up, a smile gracing your features and it admittedly made him feel weirder than when you were upset.

You flipped off the top bunk to Ushijima’s bed and threw your arms around his shoulders in a hug, “Thank you Waka-kun~” you sang.

And Tendou grinned from ear to ear, watching as Ushijima’s face tinted the lightest of pinks.

——

“You’re late,” Ushijima grunted as he watched you burst through the gym doors, trying to catch your breath.

”I know!” You panted, “I got held up by a teacher.” You said, throwing your bag to the ground. You made your way over to Ushijima who was previously practicing by himself as he waited. “Now, you can’t be mean remember, this is just for fun. It’s not like I’m gonna be using this in any actual tournaments, this is just to shut the team up the next time they make fun of me for sucking at volleyball.”

He nodded and the two of you started.

You quickly figured out that playing volleyball with Ushijima was very different than when you’d play with Tendou. Tendou was always goofing around and joking with you but with Ushijima he was unsurprisingly very serious, so it was up to you to lighten the mood. But you had to admit he was a pretty good teacher and kept the rude comments to a minimum, which was a feat on its own because he very rarely censored himself and you knew you weren’t doing to well.

It was well into the hour when shit finally hit the fan.

Ushijima asked you to toss him the ball to demonstrate him hitting a spike. So you did and as usual because of his strong spikes, the ball ended up rolling off, landing by your bag on the other side of the gym.

You offered to go get it, and in hindsight you really wished you did. But Ushijima said it was fine and went off to grab the ball.

When he went to pick it up, he noticed the zipper of your bag was opened and something inside caught his eye. He glanced back at you to see you looking down at your phone, before he brought his attention back to the object and pulled it out. His eyebrows furrowed.

It was a pill bottle and the label told him they were heat suppressants. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

The date said they were prescribed about a month ago and the bottle was already three quarters gone.

He stood up straight and turned, “What are these?” He called out to you, making you look up.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Idiot, are you going through my bag? Put those back and get back over here.” You rolled your eyes.

He only listened to half of what you said as he held the bottle and walked back, “(L/N)-chan, what is this?”

You looked at him confusedly, “They’re heat suppressants or did you forget that I’m an omega and go through heats?”

”More than half of them are gone.”

You faltered, realizing he checked the date on them. But you played it cool and shrugged, “So?”

”It’s dangerous to have that many suppressants in a month.”

You rolled your eyes, “What? Are you suddenly an omega now? They’re my pills, I can use them how I want.”

You could see Ushijima getting frustrated now, “The side effects of this many can be harmful to your body.”

”I’m fine— I’m more than fine. I haven’t had to go through a heat in a while and I’ve been functioning just the same, only it’s better now because I don’t have to deal with heats.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean by ‘a while’?” He asked worried to hear just how long you were putting your body through this. Suppressants were meant to make heats easier, not stop them all together.

“Nothing, it really doesn’t matter,” you said in an attempt to brush it off.

”How long (L/N)-chan?”

You clenched your jaw, looking down at the ground, not answering.

”How long,” his voice became darker and firmer.

You hated it but when he used that tone, you found it difficult to deny, “A....a year.” You muttered.

Ushijima’s eyes widened in shock and horror, and it was probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “You missed four heats?”

”Well.... yeah.”

”You can’t do that to your body—“

”Why not?” You snapped, looking up at him, “It’s my body isn’t it? And my heats are my business. I’ve been completely fine up till now anyway.”

”What about your next heat? You have to have one eventually and if you’ve missed four, your next heat will be unbearable.”

”That’s only for some people,” you scoffed, “I could be completely fine.”

”And if you’re not? You don’t have a mate.”

”Why do you even care!” You huffed.

”Because—“ you’re my omega.

Ushijima completely stopped as the thought popped in his head. He was caught so off guard by that he forgot his argument.

But he did his best to compose himself before stating, “I’m keeping these.”

You scowled, “Like hell you are!” You yelled before leaping for the pill bottle, but he just held it over his head and out of your reach. You grabbed his arm and tried to pull it down but he would barely budge, “Ushijima this isn’t funny!” You yelled out in anger and slight panic.

He ignored the slight sting he felt at hearing his last name, but he didn’t give in, “This is for your own good.”

”Fuck my own good! I need those pills— I can’t go through another heat!”

”You’re an omega,” he snapped, “You can’t keep pretending you’re an alpha. Heats are necessary, learn your place already.”

And there were those words you absolutely despised, ‘learn your place’.

You blinked back the frustrated tears, “I’m leaving,” you scoffed. And with that you quickly ran out, grabbing your bag and leaving a very pissed off alpha behind you.

—

Tendou had no idea how things could get so screwed up the one time he got you two alone together.

You ended up avoiding Ushijima at all costs and Ushijima being who he was was definitely not going to approach you first when he believed he was right.

But Tendou could only handle so much of this stupid fight before trying to convince the two of you to make up.

But you said you’d only forgive him if he gave you your pills back and Ushijima said he wasn’t going to. So when Tendou got you to swear to Ushijima that you’d use them properly was he then able to sway Ushijima into giving them back.

So he did and you forgave him.

Of course there was still some resentment and animosity about the whole thing, but after a couple weeks things were back to normal more or less.

That was until that inevitable day approached.

You hadn’t come to class which wasn’t unusual because you liked to skip every once in a while, so Ushijima and Tendou didn’t think much of it at first.

That was until they overheard a conversation between two omegas not too far from them.

”The entire history hallway literally smells like omega.” The one girl complained.

”Really?” Her friend asked, “What happened.”

She shrugged, “Dunno. I think some omega went into heat, but my god is it strong. I think they locked themselves in a supply closet, there’s a group of as alphas just outside the door.”

”I feel kinda bad. We should tell someone to go help them. Do we know who the omega is?”

”Everyone’s pretty sure it’s (L/N) since the scent is pretty citrusy. Her roommate also told me she takes suppressants like they’re candy so it makes sense.”

Suddenly Ushijima had stood up. Tendou looked up at the alpha with a questioning gaze, but as he watched him just head straight for the door, a grin grew on his face as he knew where this was headed.

—

You were a mess as you hid away inside the supply closet. The heat had randomly hit you out of no where without a single warning. The most you were able to do was quickly lock yourself in the closet. And now you were left trembling in a curled up ball in the corner of the room.

You were hot everywhere and covered in a layer of sweat. Your chest rose and fell in breathy pants and the uncomfortable pool of wetness in your panties was getting really distracting.

And on top of all that, there was a group of alphas just outside calling out to you. You couldn’t make out what they were saying because of how overwhelmed you felt but their scents were definitely accelerating the heat.

And dread filled you at the thought of Ushijima being right. All four heats that you missed just hit you all at once.

This was the most helpless you’ve ever felt.

...Then you smelled it.

A scent far more overpowering than the alphas scents combined. And a scent you knew all to well. Heavy and woody— a scent that made your head spin and squeeze your legs together as a broken whimper left your throat.

The others had scattered in fear, soon leaving you alone with Ushijima Wakatoshi’s scent.

Ushijima walked in, easily breaking the lock. His gaze was intense as usual but there was also something else in his eyes as he found you curled up on the ground of the supply closet, in heat.

And even in the presence of an omega in a heat extreme as yours, Ushijima showed an incredible display over his instincts as he barely seemed bothered by it. The only thing that gave him away was how his breathing slowed, taking in deeper breaths as what was probably the prettiest and most mouth watering scent he ever smelled flooded his senses.

His presence commanded the area and the air reeked of his scent, and as tough as you were, even you fell weak to the presence of an alpha while in heat— and the so called alpha of alphas no less.

Your legs were squeezed tight as you buried your face in your knees, covering your nose from his scent.

”(L/N),” he said, voice deep and a touch of anger in it.

You whimpered, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

”Waka-kun,” your voice came out weak, broken, and muffled, it had even made Ushijima falter for a second, uneasy seeing you act so helpless. “I-I can’t— I can’t do this,” you shook your head, the tears running down your face now. “I-it’s barely even started and— and th-this feels worse than m-my worst heat.” You sniffled, body trembling and shaking now.

”I told you not to take those suppressants.”

A broken moan came out after hearing his rumbling voice and you squeezed your legs tighter— how embarrassing.

In truth, Ushijima greatly disliked seeing you like this, especially after developing such a fondness over the tough and fiery omega that used to drive him mad (and still does from time to time.) But there was still something he greatly enjoyed with seeing how submissive you were being in front of him— as long as he was the only one that got to see you like this. So what you said next, sparked something in him.

”D...do y-you know an a-alpha that... can help?” Your words were broken up with sobs and stifled moans.

And a strong sense of possessiveness washed over him at the thought of another alpha possibly aiding you through this heat.

”That won’t be necessary,” he spoke curtly, “Stand up,” he said, walking forward.

You clamped your hand tighter over your nose, suffocating on his scent, and you shook your head furiously, “I-I don’t know if I c-can—“

”Stand,” and there was no arguing with the Alpha tone in his voice, your body wouldn’t let you.

So on trembling knees you shakily stood up, holding your breath as you used the wall for support as you leaned against it.

Something wild was overtaking Ushijima’s senses at seeing how fragile and delicate you looked, and he stalked forward, eyes heavy with an intense gaze on you.

And he was now in front of you as you stared down at the ground, waiting for what he’d do next as you tried your best to stay composed by attempting to ignore his presence.

Suddenly, he raised his hand to cup your jaw, his other hand gripping your wrist to pull it away from your nose. And the absolute predatorial look in his eyes would’ve knocked you to your knees if the wall wasn’t there to support you.

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away. “From tonight onwards you’re mine.” He growled before lifting your jaw up further.

You moaned at that and quickly nodded, “I-I’m yours.”

”I don’t care if you always want to fight back as long as you understand that right now, I’m in charge.” He said as his thumb traced your bottom lip before tugging down on it. And the second after you nodded, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss.

Your resolve immediately crumbled and you easily melted into the kiss, collapsing into him. A cry left your lips which was promptly swallowed by Ushijima. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you tried rutting against his thigh. But he quickly grabbed ahold of your hips, stilling you.

You whined into his mouth, “Please Waka-kun.”

”Patience,” he commanded, making you quickly shut your mouth. “I’m going to take care of you,” and with that he picked you up.

He walked with you in his arms through the deserted hallway, making his way towards the dormitories, specifically his.

And as he walked through the school building, classes having been just let out, he ignored the stares and stunned silence from his peers as they gawked at the sight of the Alpha of Shiratorizawa Academy walking with the little annoying omega of the school in his arms, who was clearly in heat.

But right now all that was on his mind was getting you back to his dorm safely so he could spend the next how ever many days fucking you until all you could possibly remember was his name.

Ushijima unlocked his dorm door, seeing an already grinning Tendou sitting upon his bed, “Well didn’t this work out nicely?” He teased.

”Tendou I need the—“

He raised his hands in surrender, “I know, I know,” he said getting up, his eyes landing on you for a second, “Definitely a sight I never thought I’d see,” he mused at seeing you so submissive in Ushijima’s arms, before practically singing, “Have fun~” on his way out.

Ushijima kicked the door shut before walking over to his bed and dropping you on it. You were sprawled out on your back, absolutely breathless.

His own breathing was beginning to become more and more labored as your heat was pushing him into a rut.

”You’re going to behave?” He asked.

You nodded, a mewl escaping your lips as you rubbed your thighs together.

”Use your words.”

”Y-yes alpha,” you managed to get out, a glint reaching his eye at the title.

”Good. Now....bare your neck.”

You scrambled to do as he said, and a slight smirk grazed his lips at the sight, a sense of pride, similar to when he won tournaments, washed over him.

You kneeled up on your knees, titling your head to the side for him.

He smiled, cupping the side of your face, before leaning down to mark you.

So yes, Ushijima would put up with your fiery attitude and need to go against everything everyone tells you to do, as long as he’d be the one to get to see you like this.

Because for the first time since he’s known you.

You were finally listening.

[green-socks]

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

[ljf613]

Zuko’s Memory Bias

I’ve talked about Azula’s potential memory bias towards her mother. In that same thread, I mentioned that Zuko also has memory bias towards his parents. What I didn’t think about until I was writing my recent post on his relationship with Azula is how those same biases may have affected the way he perceives her. 

(Warning: This is a very complex topic, and I suggest not reading/engaging if you find it potentially triggering or are unable to deal with it in a nuanced way. I am NOT trying to downplay abuse, nor am I trying to gaslight those who’ve been victimized by it.) 

Azula the Liar 

In “Zuko Alone,” we get a good sense of what Zuko’s life was like as a child. We see him interacting with his mother, sister, and (briefly) his father. And we get some insight into a line from “The Avatar State.” 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Avatar State.” Zuko: “You lied to me! [Cut to Azula, who appears confident.]” Azula: “[Smugly.] Like I've never done that before.”/ End ID] 

There are two scenes in “Zuko Alone” where Zuko accuses Azula of lying to him. Look at these lines, and see if you notice a common denominator. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Azula: “[Sing-songy.] Dad's going to kill you! [Seriously.] Really, he is.” Young Zuko: “Ha-ha, Azula. Nice try.” Young Azula: “Fine, don't believe me. But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad's punishment should fit his crime. [Imitates Azulon.] ‘You must know the pain of losing a first-born son. By sacrificing your own!’“ Young Zuko: “Liar!” Young Azula: “I'm only telling you for your own good. I know! Maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you!” Young Zuko: “Stop it! You're lying! Dad would never do that to me!”/ End ID]

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “Where's Mom?” Young Azula: “No one knows. Oh, and last night, Grandpa passed away.” Young Zuko: “Not funny, Azula! You're sick. And I want my knife back, now. [Zuko tries to grab it, but misses as Azula quickly moves out of the way, and loudly grunts.]”/ End ID]

Do you see it yet? Twice Zuko thinks Azula is making some kind of joke, and both times (as far as canon shows us, though I’ve seen headcanons that argue differently) Azula is actually telling the truth. 

Azula has no qualms about lying to acheive her goals. We see this multiple times over the course of the series. But if all we had to go by was these two scenes, we might paint a very different picture. 

Because there’s another, more subtle thing that both of these scenes have in common: both times, Zuko chooses to believe that Azula is lying, rather than accept that a parent (read: Ozai, because both of these things are really his fault) has failed him. 

The Beast 

There’s a kind of cognitive bias that often occurs with victims of abuse. Rather than try to explain it, I’ll give an example of a fictional character from a different story who is a very clear example of how and why it happens. 

In book one of Trials of Apollo (The Hidden Oracle), we’re introduced to a girl named Meg McCaffrey. Meg is strong, tough, and great in a fight. She explains that it’s all because of her stepfather, who took her in off the streets and trained her. She seems to genuinely care about him, and talks about him affectionately. 

But there’s another man in Meg’s life: The Beast. The Beast is a constant presence in her nightmares. He killed her first father, and we soon learn that he’s one of the primary antagonists of the story, and planning on destroying the world. 

But eventually, we discover the truth: The Beast and Meg’s stepfather are the same person. 

Meg’s stepfather is an abuser, one who’s used a common tool of abusers everywhere-- detatching from the tool he uses to abuse her and anthromorphizing it. “Don’t make me angry,” he says, “or you’ll wake up The Beast, and then whatever happens is on your head.” 

And because Meg needs to believe that her stepfather cares about her, she projects all her negative feelings about him towards this figmentary “Beast” and blaming him for all the problems in her life. 

Are we noticing the connection to Zuko and his relationship with his father yet? 

My Father Loves Me 

For the first two and a half seasons (especially in season 1), Zuko is convinced that deep down, his father loves him, cares about him, wants him back home. He has to believe that, because if he doesn’t, then what has been the point of everything he’s done until now? 

Which means that tricking him into an Agni Kai and then burning his face must have been justified. It means that capturing the Avatar really will get him back his honor. It means that everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his own fault. 

Or, at least, almost everything. 

You’re Like My Sister 

The first time we ever hear of Azula (other than that shot of her smiling at the Agni Kai in “The Storm”) is when Zuko is talking to (unconcious) Aang after he captures him in “The Siege of the North, Part 2.” 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Siege of the North, Part 2.” Zuko: “I finally have you, but I can't get you home because of this blizzard. [Stands up and looks outside the cave.] There's always something. Not that you would understand. You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am.”/ End ID] 

There’s something interesting happening here. This is the first time Zuko’s been able to be totally honest about his feelings around Aang, and what does he do? He starts comparing Aang to, of all people, Azula. He’s projecting. He clearly has all of these negative feelings towards Azula, but he can’t do anything about them. So instead, he’s taking it out on Aang. 

Take every single interaction between Aang and Zuko in season one. Now realize that from Zuko’s perspective, he was dealing with his sister. 

Taking Aang prisoner on his ship? Azula. Constantly trying to capture Aang, only to be outsmarted by him? Azula. Shooting a blast of fire when Aang extends a potential hand of friendship? Azula. 

Because Aang, like Azula, is a perceived obstacle between himself and his father’s love. 

Father Says She Was Born Lucky 

Ozai didn’t just belittle Zuko-- he pitted his children against each other. He made it clear to Zuko that, even from the moment he was born, he would never, ever be as good at his sister. 

And all of this has caused a lot of rage and turmoil inside of Zuko. As self-depricating as he is, he does realize that not everything that’s gone wrong in his life is his fault. But we’ve already established that blaming his father would shatter his worldview. 

So who else does he have to blame? 

Azula. 

Azula, who was born lucky. Azula, who’s just so perfect. Azula, the prodigy. Azula, who everyone adores. Azula, who got everything. Azula, who always lies.  

Azula Always Lies 

Zuko talks a lot about honor. He talks a lot about capturing the Avatar. But when he’s stressed, when he’s feeling pressured, when he’s thinking about all the ways his life has gone wrong, he uses a different mantra. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “Zuko Alone.” Young Zuko: “[Chanting in a low voice.] Azula always lies. Azula always lies.” Cut to the older Zuko, lying in green grass, holding his traveler's hat to his chest. Zuko: “Azula always lies.”/ End ID]

Azula always lies. 

”Azula always lies” is comforting. It means “father doesn’t really consider me a miserable failure.” It means “he was never really going to kill me.” 

Instead of getting angry at all the ways his father has failed him, Zuko can just blame it on Azula’s lies. That way he doesn’t ever have to admit the real problem. 

Now, I’m not saying that Azula was a perfect sister, or even a particularly good one. I’m not saying that she never lied, because we know she did. I’m not saying she didn’t hurt him, or trick him, or manipulate him. What I’m saying is that Zuko’s skewed perception has lead him to blame her not only for all the ways she hurt him, but also all the ways Ozai failed him. 

“Okay,” you’re saying. “Say I agree with you. Say we assume that all of his negative feelings that really should have been directed at Ozai were instead directed at Azula. But that doesn’t matter now. Zuko eventually did realize that his father was wrong. They had a whole dramatic confrontation where Zuko told him what a horrible father he was and everything! He’s not projecting anymore, and his current feelings towards his sister should only be indicative of her actions and behaviors. Right?” 

Wrong. 

How Cognitive Bias Works 

Cognitive bias is insidious. It doesn’t just affect one memory, it ripples outwards, affecting all of them. And the vast majority of the time, we don’t even notice it happening. 

Zuko called Ozai out for two things, and two things only. 

[ID: Excerpt from the transcript of the ATLA episode “The Day of Black Sun, Part 2: The Eclipse.” Zuko: “For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. [Points a broadsword at his father.] My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. [Cuts to shot of Ozai, looking angered.] How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?”/ End ID]

Zuko blames Ozai for his banishment, and for the Agni Kai. That is it. 

To be clear, I am not saying that Zuko thinks Ozai was a perfect father before all of this. Not at all. Zuko is aware that Ozai is “the worst father in the history of fathers.” 

But it isn’t like he’s gone back and inspected every single memory that involved Ozai and pinpointed all of the ways Ozai abuzed, manipulated, and gaslit him. He can’t. That requires both a level of objectivity he hasn’t reached, as well as a frame of reference for what normal looks like. Any victim of abuse-- especially childhood abuse-- will tell you that even though they know they were abused, they will often have or witness random interactions that will leave them thinking, “wait, this is what normally happens in this kind of situation? You mean [x] was also part of the abuse?” 

Not to mention that while Zuko didn’t examine his feelings towards Azula at any point before the finale. He had his epiphany about Ozai, and realized that his father had been wrong, but he’d always thought Azula was wrong. 

So while Zuko is aware that he had a bad father, he hasn’t actually stopped to consider how much of his anger towards his sister is actually about his father. 

(Again, I’m not blaming Zuko. None of this is his fault, any more than he’s at fault for the Air Nomad Genocide or the war. It’s just the reality of his situation.) 

Conclusion 

So what am I saying here? 

I’m saying that Zuko’s perception of his sister-- his anger, his frustration, his understanding of who she is-- is fundamentally biased. I’m saying Zuko isn’t viewing her from her own merits. I’m saying that Zuko doesn’t actually know her. He thinks he does, but he’s wrong. 

I’m adding another thing to the list of reasons why Zuko is not the person to try and help Azula through her trauma. 

I’m giving yet another example of how the fandom’s perception of Azula is also biased-- because the vast majority of our understanding of Azula’s character comes from Zuko. 

And unlike Zuko, we can detach ourselves from the narrative enough to realize that it might be worthwhile to re-examine our view of her.

[typical-simplelove]

I Tried (M. Tkachuk)

A/n: Just a funny little blurb I thought of!

In the ten years that you’ve known the Tkachuks, you’ve always been closest to Brady. When you were in middle school, your mother got a new job which resulted in your family moving to St. Louis. As a result, you ended up across the street from the Tkachuks. You remember the first time you met them, you only met Chantal, Brady, and Taryn. Keith and Matthew were at a hockey tournament. Brady took you under his wing, and the two of you became close friends. That didn’t mean, however, that you didn’t have a connection with Taryn or Matthew. You and Taryn had sleepovers almost every other weekend and did things that girls did. Your connection with Matthew was complicated. The only words that you could use to describe it was that Matthew was a pesky older brother who could be the worst to you but also the best. It was safe to say that you went to different Tkachuks for different reasons. When you wanted someone to laugh with and enjoy the day with, you went to Brady. If you wanted someone to gossip with, you went to Taryn. You and Matthew weren’t that close; however, whenever you were around him, he always made your heart flutter, and he made you giggle like a maniac.

When you came to the age to be looking for schools, Matthew and Brady gave their best pitches for their hockey cities. Brady told you that in Ottawa, your best friend, him, would always be there. Matthew told you that because he was older, he was more mature. (he knew that wasn’t true) Therefore, he could take care of you better. You ended up applying to schools in both cities and touring schools in both cities. You wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but you like the Calgary school better. So, when you got your acceptance letter from the University of Calgary, there was no hesitation as to where you would go. Matthew insisted that you moved in with him; however, you wanted the whole university experience and opted to stay in a dorm. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t spend lots of time with Matthew.

Now, ten years later after meeting Brady and Taryn, it was safe to say that you were closest to Matthew out of all the Tkachuks. You were sitting on the couch in Matthew’s apartment getting ready for a movie night with him and some of his teammates. Matthew came and sat next to you and offered you the bowl of popcorn in his hand. You reached to grab some, but Matthew moved the bowl out of your grasp.

“If I give you some popcorn, will you go on a date with me?” Matthew asks. For the past six months, Matthew has been trying to get you to go on a date with him, and you said no every time. It wasn’t because you didn’t like Matthew; it was because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Matthew and his siblings. You’ll admit, Matthew was a very attractive being, and you might have had the smallest crush on him in high school. However, nothing big enough for you to want to act upon it. Matthew, it seems, was in the same boat and felt that now was a perfect time to act upon those feelings.

You look at Matthew with a small smile gracing your face. “I think you know my answer. It’s been the same for the past six months.”

Matthew puts a pout on his face. “Come on, please? I really like you. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything for just one date,” Matthew says. “Please? I’m not going to stop until you give me some kind of chance.”

“Give me a bit to think about what this ‘something’ you can do for me is, and then maybe you’ll have yourself a date.”

Matthew nods like a child. “I can go with that.”

“Is that the farthest you’ve ever gotten with asking Yn out?” Johnny asks from where he’s sitting. In your interaction with Matthew, you almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Actually, that happened anytime you were in the general vicinity with Matthew.

“It is, and I’ll take it,” Matthew says and starts the movie.

What could you do to get Matthew to do that you knew he couldn’t do? You wanted to go on a date with Matthew, but you didn’t want to ruin the good you already had. The WAGs have been telling you that it could only get better. You guess they could be right, but you also thought of the millions of possibilities that everything went wrong. You weren’t sure you were ready for the possibility of it going awry.

You knew that you had to pick something that annoyed you. What did Matthew do that annoyed you? The weird racing stripes in his hair. The inability to take care of his curls. The fact that he always chews his mouth guard instead of wearing it. That’s it!

You look at Matthew and grin widely. “I know what I want you to do,” you whisper into Matthew’s ear.

Matthew looks at you with a smirk and hopes you can’t tell that your whisper sent shivers down his spine. “Yeah?” he whispers back. “What is it?”

“You have to go an entire game wearing your mouthguard instead of chewing on it.”

“What?” Matthew says audibly that gets everyone looking at the two of you. “I can’t do that.”

You shrug. “Then I guess no date.”

Matthew sighs. “How about whenever I’m on the ice then?”

“You’re compromising?” you tease.

“Yes or no?”

“Sure, whenever you’re on the ice, you must have your mouthguard in your mouth and no chewing on it. If you can do that, then I’ll go on a date with you.”

Matthew could do this, right? Simple, no chewing on his mouthguard while on the ice.

. . .

“Do you think you’ll be able to do it?” Sam asks. “She gave you the hardest possible challenge, and you went along with it. Dude, you’re so whipped for her.”

Matthew looks at his teammate and shakes his head. “Don’t I know it.”

. . .

Matthew lasted all the way through the first ten minutes of the first. It felt unnatural, but he knew what was at stake. Ten minutes into the first, the Flames were up by two, and Matthew completely forgot. As he was skating to chase the puck on a breakaway, his mouthguard, out of habit, escaped his mouth, and he began to chew on it. After his shift was finished and he was back on the bench, Sam gave Matthew a sly grin.

“What?” Matthew asks annoyed.

“I guess you’re not getting that date now,” Sam replies.

Matthew was about to ask what but realizes what Sam’s referencing. Fuck, Matthew couldn’t keep the mouthguard in his mouth. He looks up to the Friends and Family box to see if you were looking at him or noticed it. You were currently talking to Lauren. So, maybe you didn’t notice? However, sensing Matthew’s eyes on you, you look down at the bench and catch Matthew’s eyes. His face instantly goes red, and the heat can probably be felt all across the Saddledome. You gave Matthew an innocent shrug and smile. Yeah, you noticed.

. . .

Thankfully, Matthew didn’t let the status of his dating life affect his play, and the Flames won. He exited the locker room and saw you standing there in your Tkachuk jersey.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry, I really tried, but I coul--” Matthew begins but is interrupted by you cupping his face and kissing him. It takes a few moments for Matthew to realize what was happening. When he finally came to, Matthew wrapped his arms around your waist and began to kiss you back. When you both pulled away, Matthew had a giant smile on his face. “I’m really confused because I failed, but I’m totally okay with you kissing me.” And he leans in for another kiss.

You laugh pulling away slightly. “I was talking to Brady earlier, and he was telling me how you were really nervous about whether or not you could keep the mouthguard in your mouth. That’s when I realized, you really did care about me.”

“Did you not know that before?” Matthew asks puzzled.

“No, I did, but, don’t be mad, you have a certain reputation. I didn’t want to be one of those girls, and I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with you, Brady, and Taryn. You all mean too much to me except you mean much to me in a different way.”

“So, this means that I can take you on a date?”

“Yes, Matthew, you can take me on a date,” you say, and Matthew kisses you again.

Matthew pulls back and looks at you. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

“I mean, you did drive me here, so sure,” you tell Matthew, and you both walk hand in hand to Matthew’s car.

“I can’t believe you’re finally letting me take you on a date, and you’re letting me kiss you,” Matthew says excitedly. “I never thought you’d let me do anything with you other than be your friend.”

“I mean, you can do anything you want to me now,” you say.

Matthew looks at you with his jaw dropped. “I think you’re going to regret that,” Matthew says and picks you up bridal style. The only sounds in the parking garage are of your giggles as Matthew places kisses around your face and neck as you both walk to his car. All those worst-case scenarios? Yeah, you 100% could ignore them.

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[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 5

WC: 1526

Rated: M

Chapter Tags: angst, mentions of physical congenital defects, name calling, Freud, mention of psychological disorders, mention of disabilities

🧠

Maybe it was naïve of you to hope for an apology from him after the incident in the classroom. He was a dick, after all.

Six weeks into the term and things had not gotten better, but in fact much worse. Every little thing he did drove you up a wall. He would talk to himself out loud about who knows what. He would ask you your thoughts and opinions on the theories he studied, and then try to challenge everything you said. He would make you feel small as he spoke down to you or he would laugh at your ideas. He would ask for help with the dumbest things too, like picking up pens and typing up all his notes. And worst of all, he would just watch you. It probably wasn’t really all that creepy, he didn’t actually give you those vibes, but you felt like a bug under a microscope.

The only time you could tolerate the doctor was when he was giving his lectures. It was like he was a totally different person. Gone was the calculating and stubborn doctor, and in his place stood a thoughtful, passionate, intellectual that tried to see the world from as many facets as possible. He was so incredibly open minded. You'd even seen him crack a smile or two.

You wondered what he might be like if that was his personality all the time. Would the two of you get along better and argue less? Would he think more highly of you, and not just as some dumb assisstant? You doubt it.

“-And then he handed me a stack of notebooks and asked me to type everything up. All his handwritten notes. Like oh my god, get with the times and just type them the first go yourself.” You were set upside down on Bitsy’s bed. This week Kreizler had amped up your workload, so of course you had to vent to your friends.

Feeling the blood pool in your head you roll over and sit up with a huff. “He’s just so strange… and he’s left handed but to the extreme. I don’t think I’ve seen him use his right hand once the entire time we’ve worked together. Like how odd is that?”

“Maybe he’s got OCD or something?” Margo, your mutual friend suggests.

You contemplate what she said. Perhaps he did have something else going on? The more you think about it the more you realize he really didn’t ever use his right hand; when he asked for your assistance it was always for a two-handed job. Perhaps… You are broken out of your trance when Bitsy interjects.

“You need to either find a new hobby to distract yourself or you need to hate-fuck the guy already.” She doesn’t look up from her phone.

Her comment catches you so off guard you choke on your own spit. Margo pats your back as you overcome the coughing fit. “Bitsy what the actual fuck?” She just gives you a ‘what?’ look. Clearly she’s grown two heads to even consider suggesting that to you.

“It’s not so crazy. You like older guys, you said it yourself that he’s smart and he’s cute. Maybe this is what you both need. Get out some frustration.” She tosses her phone to the bed. “And to be honest I’d like to be able to talk to you about literally anything other than how much you can’t stand the ‘good doctor dickwad’.”

Your mouth is gaping at her in your shock. Her words settle in you like a bag of rocks. “Oh my god I really do talk about him that much don't I?” Shame and embarrassment wash over you as you realize that yes, the majority of your day is spent complaining about Kreizler. “I’m sorry guys, I’ll make an effort to tone it down.”

“It’ll probably help with the stress too if you stop,” Margo adds.

“That and getting dicked down - how long has it been for you?”

“Yeah no,” you get off the bed and walk out of the room, “I’m not answering that.”

“Too long then!” Bitsy calls after you with a laugh.

_

He really thought he had been doing better with you. He couldn’t say you were his favorite person by any means, but you were proficient at your job and the tasks he gave you. A hard worker. He tried to engage in friendly conversation or to talk about the lessons he was planning with you. As little as you had actually studied psychology he found your insights to be most interesting and enlightening. He actually enjoyed it.

You, on the other hand, apparently did not.

Today was going the usual route - he attempted to engage you in discourse; you were determined to defend and fight your way out of it. Oddly enough, for as much as you loathed talking with him you were always giving him your opinion on things.

“How could you be so base to believe that? We are all individuals with our own wants, needs, and desires, sure, but to only be subject to that? To have no freedom or choice in anything we do or say? It’s ridiculous.” You sat with your arms across your chest, a sneer on your face as you argued with him.

His face remains calm through your tirade. He himself took Freud’s work with a grain of salt, but he was interested in your reaction to his questioning. So he pushed you. “And yet you sit here now with the most basic principle being exhibited - the presence of Freud’s Id hard at work - as you become frustrated and angered by my words. Is that in itself not the desire to let anger take control? Acting without fear of consequence? To be exactly what you now claim is ridiculous?”

You scoff. “No, Doctor, because I’ve chosen to not put up with the bullshit. I choose of my own free will.”

“But what is free will, if not chained to our deepest desires and fears? Us acting on the primal needs within us so out of our control? You have no choice in the matter, only impulse. Nothing you choose matters, you are inconsequential.” Laszlo found that he liked to rile you up. You were more forthcoming in your ideas and defenses; a worthy partner to discuss psychological theory with. But today he had pushed you too far.

By this point you had had enough. His constant instagation had driven you to the end of your rope. In reality it probably wasn’t that bad, and you really weren’t that confrontational of a person. But god, with him you just couldn’t seem to hold yourself back. He drove you up the wall.

“Is that what you want? To study me like your little project, seeing how you can get me to crack? Your own personal basket case to psychoanalyze? What - does that get you off at night or something?” You don’t even care that he’s your boss anymore or how inappropriate your suggestion is. If he can push and push and push without regard to what is considered socially allowed then you’d be damned if you didn’t too.

His face is merely curious, a hint of a smirk on it, as you all but yell at him from your desk. He sits back, a pen in his left hand, his right resting atop the desk. You notice his right thumb twitch.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” blurts from your scowled mouth. You don’t know why you ask. Maybe his idea about being chained to our deepest curiosities, no matter how questionable, had some weight behind it.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes change the second the question slips from your lips. No longer is he eying you with amusement, but he looks as if he might snap at any second. His face is hard, you can see his jaw clenched under the full beard he sports.

At his reaction you know that you screwed up. You never should have said anything at all. Sure he could be as rude as the day is long, but he wasn’t necessarily a cruel man. He had little moments where he was genuinely kind to you. He even made you tea once.

“I’m sorry- I…. I don’t know where that came from. It was inappropriate of me and I apologize, Dr. Kreizler.”

The silence that overcomes the room is deafening, so unlike the boisterous discourse that was taking place a moment ago. You turn away hoping to resume your work. You even take a moment to pray to whoever is listening that you didn’t just get yourself fired.

“It was a congenital defect.” You turn back towards him, but he does not meet your eyes. He speaks low again. “My arm never developed correctly so it is weaker and has less function. That is all.” You nod at him, swallowing. The look in his eyes does not match what he tells you. He has the look of someone haunted by their past. It is a look you are all too familiar with yourself. You both finish your work in silence.

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[vizowrites]

That’s One Hell of a Resume

{Set during the Harvest Moon Festival competitions}

~*~

To  Blitzø’s great surprise, the Harvest Moon Festival was actually turning out to not be a fuck fest invite after all.

He honestly hadn’t been sure when the games initially kicked off.  The horde of imps that had come to compete for the title of “the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath” had a proclivity for violence that could easily--and not inaccurately--be described as a passion.  Then of course there was Stolas, watching him thirstily from atop his fancy seat underneath his fancy tent, cooing and cheering out “Blitzyyyyy!!'' at every opportunity he got to speak.  Yet the honored owl prince somehow still managed to keep his pants on throughout each and every event--and even more impressively managed to keep his degrading sweet talk void of any sexual obscenities.  He hadn’t even been able to manage that much on a day trip to a theme park with his daughter.  Yet somehow...this wasn’t even the best part of the festival to  Blitzø.  It was up there to be sure, but it wasn’t the toppiest top.  The “dom of the disco”**, if you will.  

No, the BEST part of the festival--and the thing that kept the imp grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire competition--was that this honkytonk battle royale was shaping up to be the perfect opportunity to show off and be recognized for just how much of a boss-ass bitch Blitz actually was: 2nd to absolutely fucking none.

Well...maybe with ONE slight exception.

“I gotta say, you just keep on impressin’ me every chance you get,” that one slight exception said with a smirk, the tip of his tail flicking forward into a small curl.  “No wonder your killin’ biz is so successful.  You do every kill single-handed there, Boss Man?” The two were standing off on the sidelines together during one of the many interims inbetween contests, where the first round winners had already secured their victories and now were stuck watching the remaining shitty losers battle it out to find out which of them would end up being the absolute shittiest loser.  It was taking a stupidly long-ass time, a hell of a lot longer than  Blitzø would’ve normally had the patience for, but with his present company leaning up against the bleacher stands like that.....there were definitely worse ways he could be spending his down time right now.

“Nah,” he answered with a small flick of his wrist, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of where he’d last seen Moxxie getting his ass kicked and Millie sitting in the stands watching it happen.  “I know he’s not doing a great job of showing it right now--” he said just as Moxxie got elbow dropped by a shark “--but Moxxie’s not completely useless.  He did get me shot on a job once while he was in the middle of being a little bitch, but as soon as he finally found his balls again, he got things back under control pretty fast.  And Millie’s just a straight up badass.  If her parents had allowed her to play in the games, you’d have gotten your ass handed to you three rounds ago.”

“That so?” Striker’s lips drew back into a slight smirk, just enough for the light to catch on the very tip of his fanged gold tooth.  “Because I seem to remember a certain someone else bein’ the one to get themselves all roped up in a hogtie about three rounds ago.”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but it sounds like complete bullshit.”

“That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ myself to be honest after that first relay run--” Those snake-like eyes raked in every inch of Blitz’s annoyed face, feeling the corners of his own pleasantly sting as his grin spread even wider. “Right up ‘til I saw some o’that nice red color risin’ up in their face--”

“IT’S HOT--THERE ARE FUCKING VOLCANOES NEARBY OKAY!!” Blitz realized, very quickly, just how loud and defensive those words sounded, but he also realized just as quickly that there wasn’t anything he could do to take them back now.  Instead, he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, pretended that there wasn’t some of ‘that nice red color’ in his face now, and said in what he thought was a much more nonchalant voice, “Anyway, I’m starving, and since these last few dipshits are taking forever to get their asses kicked, I’m gonna go find something deep-fried to shove down my throat.  Catch you at the awards ceremony or whatever the fuck they do around here to finish themselves off.”

The I.M.P. Head made it a grand total of two steps before the unmistakable crunch of boots sounded behind him, followed by a faint scoff of a laugh and the distinct rattling of a tail as Striker joined him at his side.  

“There’s a whole row of food stands back there behind the stage,” he said with a nod, meeting  Blitzø’s stride and starting to veer them off in that direction.  “And now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite.  Besides--I feel like I might owe you one for bringin’ up such a tender subject.”

The unrepentant but non-malicious smirk he sent Blitz’s way wasn’t at all softened by the wink that accompanied it, but it somehow brought a slight smile to the smaller imp’s lips all the same.

“You got fucking lucky and that was it,” Blitz insisted with a sharp flick of his tail, not having the faintest fucking clue why he was smiling about this in the first place but subconscioiusly hoping that swatting at Striker would be distracting enough that the taller imp wouldn’t notice.  “And besides, I could’ve gotten out of it if I had really wanted to.”

“Oh, so you wanted to be all tied up like that?”  The grin that spread across Striker’s face was even wider than the first, his razor sharp teeth now on full display. “Well now, if that’s what you were wantin’ you could’ve just asked.  I’d’ve been happy to oblige right from the start.” 

“Ha! Like I’d ever make it that easy for you,”  Blitzø retorted with a challenging grin, his eyes dancing with a truly impish gleam of delight as he and Striker rounded the stage together, his earlier thoughts of the food shacks that waited beyond almost entirely forgotten as they were overtaken by memories of their constant back-and-forth scuffle throughout the festival. “You beating me fair and square is one thing--even though you still totally just got really fucking lucky and also it definitely never even happened in the first place.  But if you were actually going to beat me...you better believe it’s not gonna happen without a fight.  I don’t just bow out like some sloppy bitch who can’t figure out where they put their car keys and has to take the walk of shame back to their shitty apartment at 4 in the morning.  If you wanna come out on top over me, you better fucking work for it.”  

The black tip of his pointed tail flicked up to poke Striker once in the center of his chest, punctuating the word ‘work’ perfectly. 

Striker’s tail, on the other hand, began to rattle.

“Yeah?” he said, his earlier easy tone starting to become weighted with something softer, but deeper.  Neither he nor  Blitzø made any indication that they were aware that he was guiding them both right on past the front of the stand that they had originally been headed toward, and instead had them disappearing into the shadows behind it. “You’re okay with not coming out on top so long as whoever does earns their place there?”

“I mean...”  Blitzø trailed off a bit as he casually leaned up against the back of the stand, folding his arms over his chest as he eyed Striker with that lingering gleam in his own gaze. “You have been able to keep up with me in all the other games...so I guess it might be possible for you to get the upper hand on me for at least one of them.”  

“Just me?”  The rattling sound intensified. 

“Well there sure as fuck wasn’t anyone else who was able to keep up,”  Blitzø rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation at just how much everyone else truly sucked in comparison to the two of them, before he slowly looked back up at Striker--and realized that the snake-like imp was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been before.  Much closer.  

“...Striker?”

“Yeah, Blitz?”

“Please tell me we’re not actually talking about the fucking games anymore.”

A short, soft laugh was the initial answer, followed by that still rattling tail coiling around Blitz’s slender waist as Striker propped himself up on one arm against the structure behind them, his hand splayed just to the side of the crimson imp’s right cheek.  

“I haven’t been talkin’ about the games since you got me with your tail, Darlin’,” he whispered, his hooded eyes narrowing to glowing slits of pale gold as he leaned in almost close enough to touch.  “But I don’t know if there ain’t somethin’ to be said about that “fuckin’” part yet...”

Blitz’s words came back to him then, ringing in his head as clear as when he first said them: 

“...Well if you promise this isn’t some fuck fest invite...”

“.....You gonna work for it, Cowboy?” 

“Yessir, Boss Man.” 

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

“So...lemme get this straight--”  Blitzø finally shifted his weight, easing it off of Striker and rolling to rest his back on whatever podunk concession stand they’d spent the last ten minutes fucking up against.  “--You tie me for first place in the games, you ride around on the most majestic fucking horse I’ve ever seen, you take down a hell hog with a single stab while completely and mercilessly humiliating one of my employees in front of his in-laws at the same fucking time, and you called me “Sir” when we first met?  AND you’re a great fuck??”

The quirked eyebrow and smug gold-toothed grin he got in reply said more than words ever could, especially when accompanied by the satisfied rattling of that long, spiked tail.

“That’s one hell of a resume you’ve got there.”  Blitzø didn’t even realize his own face had split into a grin until he saw it reflected in Striker’s eyes, hypnotized by the sheer reckless abandon he felt ignited between them.  “Want to join I.M.P.?”  

Striker couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat from where Blitz’s tail had nearly knocked it off, his unwavering gaze sparking into an infernal glow.

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone a warm rumble of amusement meeting temptation.  “You and I head on back to the stage, revel in our well-deserved glory, and--once we’re satisfied it’s been rubbed into the faces of those sorry ass losers enough--I’ll head on back up to the farm and have a little talk with Miss Mildred’s folks about finishin’ things up around here for the season.  Maybe see if they can find another set of hands to join ‘em for the next one if mine are gonna be occupied with--” His hand found its way down to Blito’s face, the sharp claw-like nail of his thumb pressing under the shorter imp’s chin to tilt it up towards his own. “--other things.”

“Believe me, Cowboy,”  Blitzø’s eyes were burning, twin embers of eagerness that ran so deep he could feel the heat of it vibrating through to his very core--and his vocal chords.  “You’re not going to find a more hands-on job than the one you’re gonna get if you come and work for me.  ESPECIALLY in that order.” 

Striker’s tail snaked its way up and along past Blitz’s hip, the pointed tip flicking over his chest as it’s rattle joined in the chorus of that deep, heated purring.  

“Don’t mind if I hold you to that, Sir.”

“Oh fuck me--”

And Striker did. Again.

~*~

Random Notes: 

**My counterpart to the phrase “the belle of the ball”--”the dom of the disco”.  I think I’m way funnier than I actually am. :D

ANYWAY tho I really hope y’all like it!!  This is the first fanfic I’ve posted anywhere publicly in a hot minute so I hope it’s not a bad kickoff to something I’m hoping to really get back into!!  I have plans to post the full fic of this--with the non-censored sex scene to my AO3 oohlala--so if that’s something you’d like to see, feel free to lemme know here and I can get right on that!!  Otherwise have a great day, thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to hit me up for some lovely BlitzStrike talks, I’m always open to messages!!

Thanks again Lovelies!! <3

[hypnomicimagines]

For Honor [Samurai!Yamada Ichiro/Reader] - Chapter 6

The silence is painful.

You can’t help but feel used, the romance having burned up so shortly after you’d gotten what you wanted. You expected more from someone like him, from someone you thought you had known though it was probably your naivety speaking now. You shouldn’t have made assumptions about a man that you had hardly known a week and you shouldn’t have pushed him to do something he was clearly having doubts about, no matter how enthusiastic he seemed in the moment. You’re left alone in the back to ponder your thoughts, only getting a word out of Ichiro when he asks if you’re hungry or if you need to stop to stretch your legs.

You just want this trip over with.

The castle loomed in the distance and though your journey had taken a turn, you almost wished you were back in the woods again. The future that was practically decided for you was now within reach when it had felt thousands of miles away just this morning. There’s a sinking feeling in your gut but you swallowed back your worry and instead presented yourself as you knew you should, standing tall and proud as you approached the royal family of this region with your chin held high. Pleasantries are exchanged while Ichiro stood off to the side to allow you some room, your eyes meeting his for a split second before you both whipped your heads in another direction. Thankfully this little action isn’t caught as the Queen is far too happy to see you, pointing you towards a room where you could change before officially meeting the prince.

You’re attended to by the lady-in-waiting who thankfully doesn’t force conversation, wiping the dirt from skin and helping you into a dress perfectly suited for you. She gave you a few compliments in an attempt to brighten your mood and things felt almost normal again, like your priorities hadn’t taken a total turn while out in the wilderness with a wild samurai. You almost wished you could tell this stranger about your journey but it was too dangerous, Ichiro might be acting like a bastard now but you’d never do something to endanger him and his brothers. Before she left the room she said to take a few more moments for yourself, giving an understanding smile before she exited.

You’re thankful to finally be alone with your thoughts yet at the same time having others around distracted you from the pain of a one-sided love. You had a difficult time falling asleep the night before with how coldly Ichiro had treated you, and the fact he woke up the very next morning acting as though nothing had happened… It set you on edge. You had never met a man like him and you had been smitten so quickly perhaps you hadn’t gotten a full sense of the reality of his situation.

You knew as well as he did that there truly wasn’t a chance, no way for this to work in your favor.

You took another deep breath, hoping the prince wasn’t a total bastard and that your marriage to him would be merciful. When you finally had your wedding night with him would he be gentle? Would he know what to do? Would he guide his hands along your body with such precision you would think he was made for making love with you? It felt wrong to think of Ichiro when you were going out to meet your husband but you supposed this was just the beginning of the challenges you’d face as royalty, being bound by duty rather than getting to live a free life.

Ichiro stood off to the side as he watched you exit the room, his duty still wasn’t over until he saw you home safely and if anything happened here under his careful watch… He didn’t want to think of the repercussions. You looked so beautiful in your new gown but then again, he thought you’d looked beautiful in anything, even a potato sack though he’s sure you’d never consider fitting in one just so he could double-check. He bit his tongue to stop himself from addressing you, knowing it would seem too casual and that there were listening ears everywhere now. He gave a slight bow and then followed behind you as you were led to a more open room, where the prince was waiting with bated breath.

Well, Ichiro thought he should be but he was rather unimpressed by the overall demeanor of this so-called royalty. He didn’t graciously kiss your hand or have a sparkle in his eye when he first saw you, instead he approached like you were any other person off the street and greeted you almost normally. You wouldn’t think this was a meeting between two people soon to be betrothed and there was lingering confusion on your part as well, a careful glance back at Ichiro for reassurance that this was indeed an odd situation

“My prince it’s-“

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you. Just call me Samatoki if we’re gonna be doing this.” You’re even more confused, head tilted but you nodded; he was certainly unlike any other prince you met before, that was for sure. You’re fascinated by him almost immediately, wondering if this was just a test and they’d switched out the prince with some street urchin to test you. “I don’t like this at all. I want you to know that.”

“Uh, I’m… I’m sorry? Is there something I’ve done?”

“Get out.” You think he’s talking to you at first but he’s glaring at the guards at the entrance of the room, who looked rather wary but quickly ducked their heads and fled as Samatoki’s glare intensified. When his eyes trailed to Ichiro there was a moment of panic, suddenly feeling exposed and all too aware that you’d be completely at this man’s mercy should you be stuck alone with him. You gave Ichiro a pleading look and, despite the awkwardness between you, it was clear he still took his job seriously.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ichiro’s voice is steady and calm, his arms crossed over his chest as he fixed the prince with a steady glare. “Anything you say to her can be said to me.”

“And what if I don’t want to fuckin’ talk to you?” Ichiro seemed taken aback by the curse, his wide eyes cluing you in that he hadn’t been aware of the prince’s unsavory personality. “Get lost, or I can have you thrown in the dungeons so you really can’t guard your sweet little princess.���

Ichiro seemed at a loss but you’d rather not have your only protection thrown somewhere unreachable, so you put your brave face on and address him yourself.

“Could you just…wait outside the door, please? I’ll scream if anything happens.” Ichiro wondered if that was really okay with you but he nodded, not willing to show you the same disrespect the prince had been. It was making his blood boil to think you’d be marrying someone so blatantly disrespectful but then again, he had violated you, stolen your virginity and that made him even guiltier of this crime.

“You think I’d give you a chance to do that?” Samatoki is smirking, and you rolled your eyes at the childish retort that was clearly meant just to get under Ichiro’s skin.

“As you can see the prince is nothing but a petulant child. I’ll be okay.”

Once you were alone, you felt the obligation to be proper slip away.

“What exactly is your problem?” You started off the conversation, cutting Samatoki off before he could get another word in. He regarded you with a raised eyebrow, allowing you to continue on. “I traveled for days in the most uncomfortable way possible to come here, to meet a prince who was worthy of marrying, and I’m met with a rude oaf who can’t even properly greet a lady? I’m not happy about this arrangement either but at least I know how to fake it!”

“You think I haven’t faked it my whole life? Think you’re the only one who’s ever struggled?” Samatoki shrugged his shoulders, turning away from you to look out a window that led to a garden area. You walked closer to see what he was staring at, noticing that the princess, his younger sister if you heard correctly, was outside with the same lady-in-waiting who had helped you get ready to meet him. You can’t tell which one of them he’s looking at but as soon as you open your mouth to ask Samatoki held his hand up.

“What is it?”

“Do you think you could fake being married to me for your entire life? Do you think that would make either one of us happy?” He’s regarding you with a serious expression. “Don’t bother answering now, I want you to really think about it. I’ve rebelled against my parents my entire life and don’t think I’ll stop now, but this is the last thing I want.”

“Are you one of those true romantics? The type that believes marriage should be between two people in love rather than arranged for the sake of money or territory?”

“And if I am?”

“I’d say you weren’t really the type.”

“That’s the thing then, isn’t it? You don’t know me.” Samatoki started to mess with his belt, a dagger safely harnessed to the side of his thigh. You were fascinated about why he would be carrying such a thing around but he seemed unwilling to answer your questions, at least for now, more focused on debating philosophical views that wouldn’t do either of you any good. “I’m willing to tell my parents it won’t work out.”

“You’ve hardly known me a day and you’ve already decided that?”

“It has nothing to do with you. I’m sure you’re a fine…princess.” He’s staring longingly outside again, such a vulnerable expression you wonder if he realized he was even making it. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but confined by the walls of a castle, bound to a royal duty he hadn’t asked for.

You felt a kinship with the prince, even if it wasn’t the romantic spark that had been hoped for.

“Shouldn’t we at least… Attempt a connection? I have no problem denying this proposal as well but to keep our parents on good terms I feel as though we should… pretend to get along?”

“I’ll take the blame when this heads south, you won’t have to worry about that. You’ll just have to figure out a plan on how to deal with the suitor who gets thrown your way.” You hated the truth behind his words but knew the reality was the same for him; even if you both found someone you loved, if they didn’t hold the proper title there would be no point. You wouldn’t be able to be together.

“I think I like talking to you, at least.”

Samatoki seemed baffled by that statement, but the grin on his face told you that your honesty was appreciated.

“You’re not half bad, either. Could be snootier, I’ve met plenty of uptight women in my life… Have you ever handled a blade?”

“Yes, actually.” In a very controlled environment, but still.

“Interesting. Come then, show me your skills. If we’re going to pretend, we might as well have some fun with how we spend our time together.”

[princessofgayskull]

Hi sunflower, what's your thoughts on T Swift's Betty being a catradora song???

Me, taking a break from spop to focus on my mental health and setting better boundaries:

Me, reading this ask:

This ask woke me up from like a deep, sleeping beauty type slumber, not joking. I don’t get asked to talk about Taylor Swift often, despite being a fan of hers since I was nine years old (I’m 22 now *wink*) and we are about to find out why. But I pride myself on taking any fiction piece of media I interact with and connecting it somehow to Taylor Swift. I can do so to varying degrees of success (usually depends on the ships and romance of the world) but there are so many songs of Taylor’s that have just fit Catradora so well for me, both in and out of canon. 

Some of my favorite examples: out of the woods (AND IT KEPT ME UP AT NIGHT WHEN NOELLE SAID THIS WAS HER TAYLOR SWIFT SONG FOR CATRADORA LIKE GAH CASUAL TS LISTENERS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND) bad blood, lwymd, don’t blame, dancing with our hands tied, the archer, breathe, you’re not sorry, the way I loved you, forever & always, should’ve said no, safe & sound- I could go on.

But I won’t because I wanna stay on topic and talk about betty. Now I have a number of songs from the folklore/evermore series that are for me catradora songs (we’ll get to that in a minute) but this one is… challenging. Because I could be like “yes, because [insert casual reason here]” or “no, because [insert casual reason here]” but I can’t because Taylor feeds her children well and there’s several aspects of this song I feel like should be considered.

This biggest one to be considered, for me, is the love triangle aspect. Folklore features at length the betty/james/Augustine love triangle, each of them having one main song on the album from their POV. Betty's is cardigan, augustine’s is august, and james’ is betty. (also I’m going to throw out the gender component for a second; I know taylor says that Betty is about a guy’s apology and I totally vibe with her reasons why she wanted to write a song about a boy apologizing BECAUSE HOW GREAT WOULD THAT BE?) The love triangle makes the application of Catradora iffy at best. Because it’s like, who would be who? I am going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re seeing Catra as James? I think that personality wise, Adora as Betty and Catra as James is not a stone’s throw away from fitting actually really well. Adora’s canon journey is one of coming to realize “I know what I want and I know that it’s okay to want it” and a big part of Catra’s arc is her being like “Well shit… there goes my plans. Kind of feeling like a dumbass rn” especially in s4/s5. 

(That s4/s5 distinction is important; I’ll show why in a second) 

But for me, there’s no augustine. Or one that’s obvious anyway. I never imagined that either Catra or Adora dated or even had any inclinations with anyone else during the five season run- that’s just my personal opinion, people are completely welcome to feel free to disagree. I don’t think Catra acted even out of distraction with Scorpia or DT, and I think Adora was so focused on being She Ra that when she wasn’t thinking about failing/abandoning Catra when she alloted time to do so, she was thinking about the crushing weight of her responsibilities. So you know, not that much time to get back out there. So I rule out what causes James to apologize in the first place- cheating.

Side note about James cheating- I’m pretty sure Taylor confirmed this, in the long pond studio sessions doc, when she’s telling Jack Antonoff (MY BOY JACK) and Aaron Dessner ( GRAMMY AWARD WINNING KING) that James “was a fool!” And James did sleep with Augustine as confirmed in august, but cardigan makes it seem like he was definitely dating Betty before the summer. Maybe Taylor took inspiration from friends and they “were on break.” I also believe that the kiss in the Heart is the first kiss, that Catra and Adora were never ‘together’ together before Adora found the sword and defected (again, that’s just an opinion, but Adora just looks so wonderfully gobsmacked), so…

We can rule out cheating, and I think we can accomplish this and still reserve the essential meaning of the song of “I did something wrong, I see that now, I apologize for doing it, and I still love you” by widening the lens of what the “did something wrong” was (or “did something bad” you know *wink*). In that wider lens really you could fit either Catra or Adora into the song, but I’m still going to assume Catra is the James in this scenario based on how much of her redemption arc is formed around her refusal to say sorry and then eventually doing so. Of course there is no standing your porchlight but rather standing while wrestling a bunch of murderous clones…. Hmm….

But there are some stupid friends! I wholeheartedly believe Catra is James because of the dissing of Betty’s friends. That’s what Catra does to Bow, Glimmer and the rebellion et al., for most of the show and by the end of s4 she has no friends for Adora to even mock (terrible and cruel of me, I know, but it’s true). Also I know people are like “he called her friends stupid and then expected betty to take him back?” but I scream sing the line “WILL YOU KISS ME ON THE PORCH IN FRONT OF ALL YOUR STUPID FRIENDS?” every time. It brings me serotonin. 

Along those lines we can ask “Who’s Inez?” in this situation. When I think gossip no one from the show really comes to mind, well, expect for Double Trouble. But Double Trouble doesn’t ever speak to Adora about Catra. This happens vice-versa, and in Betty, James reveals that Inez told Betty he cheated on her. 

I want to say something controversial… Glimmer comes to mind when I think “who’s the Inez?” And this is based off of two things: 1) Inez’s closeness to Betty, and 2) Inez drags James out to dry, rightfully so. And when I think of that I think of Glimmer screaming “Do one good thing in your life!” directly in Catra’s face. James gives Inez a bad wrap in Betty. Not cool James. 

Of course there’s the pivotal, “would you tell me to go fuck myself?/ or lead me to the garden?” To me this a fun way of showing there’s vulnerability to what James is doing, so automatically I’m led to is the scene where Catra asks Adora to stay, or each time in s5 when Catra risks, basically an identity crisis to let Adora in how she really feels, but there’s always the potential that Adora could spurn her by not returning her feelings or rejecting her outright. 

I think the best argument that can be made for “is betty a catradora song” can really be encapsulated by the lyric(s): “the worst thing that I ever did is what I did to you” and “the only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.” That is what about the song SCREAMS Catra to me. And yeah, it could be argued that Adora hurt Catra pretty brutally (Shadow Weaver makes that point EVEN THOUGH SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO) that she messed up by abandoning Catra- but Adora feels guilt for... literally breathing. Adora is the quintessential embodiment of “pick your battles, no that’s too many battles, put some back,” but Catra picked one battle first and foremost (yes, she had a few others but this was the one) and that was Adora. Everything that motivated her was surrounded around a narrative of surpassing Adora for a multitude of reasons, and because of that she pretty much hurts Adora every chance she gets after Promise. Adora is really Catra’s first casualty, it makes sense that she has to be her first apology. And I think that after being vibed checked back to back by DT and Glimmer and realizing “oh hey fuck, I’m still in love with her” and then almost dying just to not die because Adora saves her, I think much of Catra’s motivation shifts to “how to do I get Adora to want to stay?” 

That’s my logic for how Betty could be a catradora song in canon. Now not all of my Taylor associations are with canon catradora, many of them do belong to uws catradora, because it’s a lot easier to apply the more modern details of Taylor’s songs to a modern au. The song Breathe is big that way. (it’s in Upper West Side, it’s the song Adora listens to and cries to after that first ride, I just never mentioned that it was taylor because my conditioned reaction to bringing up taylor is to have my head bit off with someone’s semi incorrect and slightly sexist opinion that I never, ever ask for) And this ask got me thinking about what it would look like if I applied not Catradora to Betty, but Betty to Catradora. What would it look like if Catra skateboarded and wore black lipstick, Adora wore a cardigan and they had homeroom together until Catra really messed up? What would it look like if they were seventeen when they admitted their feelings for each other instead of 21? What would it look like if they spent a summer fighting but dreaming of each other? What would their love story look like if Catra and Adora were in that town where Taylor envisioned this “same event that affected three people in different ways?”

I think it’d look something like this. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31141973/chapters/76952048

what do you guys think?

quick but INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT thank you to @gimme-tea-bitch for helping me with this, being my beta, and listening to me talk about folklore/evermore.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 11

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,511

Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot

Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed. 

Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.

However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.

However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.

Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.

Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.

“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.

You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.

“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”

The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.

With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.

“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”

The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”

He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.

“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”

You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”

Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.

“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”

And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.

~~

The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.

Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.

As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.

Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.

It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.

You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~

You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.

“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”

It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.

You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.

There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.

Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.

The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?

Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?

You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.

“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”

Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.

“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.

“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”

Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.

Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”

“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.

You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“

Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.

“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.

But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.

You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s begin.”

~~

The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.

His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.

Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.

As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.

She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.

“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.

He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”

“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”

“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”

“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.

She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”

“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.

“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”

Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.

He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”

“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”

Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.

“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”

“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”

Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.

His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.

“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”

Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.

“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”

The transmission goes dead.

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @oh-no-a-whovian​, @over300books​, @chibi-yuki, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

[intheticklecloset]

A Good Tickling (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

This one is a direct sequel to “Wardrobe Malfunction,” as requested above. It’s also officially the longest fic I’ve ever written for any fandom, clocking in at 3,000+ words, so buckle up! I really had fun delving into this one and exploring Kirishima and Bakugou’s friendship on a bit of a deeper level while still turning it into a tickle fic by the end. I sincerely hope you enjoy! <3

6: “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”

8: “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

20: “Stop resisting!”

19: “I see that smile. Come on, laugh!”

25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”

You’ll notice for some of the numbered prompts I didn’t use the exact quote, but a variation thereof. This was to help prevent repetitiveness as well as maintain believable story flow. They’re still in the fic, just perhaps not word for word.

Warning: Slight angst.

~

Kirishima was quiet. Like, really quiet. Too quiet. And Bakugou was extremely aware of it.

The silence had come on gradually, over the course of a couple of weeks. At first it was just small pockets of time during which the redhead seemed to shrink in on himself for no discernable reason, but he’d soon bounce back when someone started talking to him, Bakugou included. But as time went on, those pockets of silence became entire hours, which became days by the time two weeks had gone by.

Then Bakugou noticed something even more disconcerting.

Kiri would only be silent around him.

He’d walk into a situation in which Kiri was his normal self, having a good time with their other mutual friends and classmates, and boom. Instant shutdown. It was impossible to ignore after the second time it happened that Kirishima was going silent because of his presence, and Bakugou was actually getting worried about it.

It all came to a head one night when Bakugou went downstairs for dinner, where Kiri and some others were already starting to eat. As soon as he entered the room Kiri’s face went dark and he stopped speaking, which was already bothersome to the atomic teen before the redhead then stood up, put his practically uneaten dinner in the fridge, and left the room.

That was the moment Bakugou realized he’d done something wrong. Somewhere along the line and without knowing it, he’d upset Kirishima so much that his closest friend couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him anymore.

No, he thought. I have to fix this. So he turned right back around and followed Kirishima to his dorm room.

“It’s open,” Kiri called when Bakugou knocked, and as soon as the door was open enough for him to see who was visiting, he turned his back and didn’t say anything.

Bakugou felt awkward closing the door behind him as he entered the silent space, but he’d resolved to find out what was going on. He hated this rift that existed between them now. He wanted to close it up. To be close with Kiri again. He missed him, dang it.

For a long while words failed him. How was he supposed to approach this when he didn’t know what was wrong? Finally Bakugou cleared his throat. “Hey. Are you mad at me?”

Kiri’s shoulders slumped. “No.”

Well, that was a relief, at least. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Bull. Bakugou fought back an angry retort and said in his calmest voice, “You can run from me all you like, Kirishima, but at the end of the day you can’t hide that you’re upset with me about something. It’s written all over your face every time you look at me. So…” He sighed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Kiri still wouldn’t look at him. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to you,” Bakugou shot back, “and I don’t like that you aren’t yourself around me lately. Where’s that loud, obnoxious, spiky-haired idiot I usually hang out with?”

“I don’t know.”

Bakugou’s irritation was rising, but he used every ounce of willpower he had to fight it. He tried to think rationally. When had this all started? Not long after that day in the locker room when he called Kiri’s costume stupid. Was that it? “Is this because of what I said about your hero costume?”

Kirishima tensed, but shook his head. “No.” His voice was quieter now. “It’s not that.”

“Well, you started being really weird around me after that, so what gives?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead got up from his seat at his desk and finally turned to look at him, and the look in his eyes – the upset, lost, desperate look – was like a sucker punch to the stomach to Bakugou. Guilt washed over him, and he still didn’t even know why.

“Yes, it does.” Bakugou felt something inside him soften. He dared to take a step closer. “Please, Kiri, tell me what I did wrong. I want to fix it. Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

Kirishima seemed to have some kind of struggle within himself. He grabbed onto the back of his desk chair and gripped it so hard Bakugou thought it might splinter. Finally he muttered, “It’s just…I’ve tried everything I can think of. Nothing’s working.”

“What isn’t?”

“I’ve tried tickling you,” Kiri continued, his eyes everywhere but the blonde. “I’ve tried outing you to our friends, I’ve tried tickling you in public, teasing you in public, saying things I thought would make you angry enough to retaliate…nothing!” He shoved his chair into his desk so hard it made Bakugou jump. “And then when you finally tickle me and call it revenge, we’re in the middle of class so I can’t even enjoy it because I don’t want to get in trouble. And I try challenging you openly and still nothing!” The redhead was on a roll now that the words were finally coming. “Even Sero has tickled me nearly to death, and he almost never does that kind of thing. Everyone seems to get it. Everyone can tell when I want it. But even when I outright tell you to do your worst, you do nothing!”

Bakugou was stunned.

“Why is it,” Kiri continued, voice rising, “that all of our friends know that I love being tickled and will tickle me when I want it, but my best friend just stands there even when I’m practically begging him to destroy me? I don’t understand!”

This time, the silence was on Bakugou’s end. He had no idea what to say. He’d never seen Kiri so openly upset, and over something that could have so easily been avoided if he’d just pulled his head out of his butt long enough to see how much damage his apathy was doing.

A long minute passed before he was able to speak.

“I…” Bakugou cleared his throat. “I didn’t know…I mean, I knew you liked it, but…I didn’t realize how much…” He frowned. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

“Ugh!” Kirishima covered his face with his hands and cried, “Yes!”

“I’m…I’m sorry.” Bakugou took another step closer. “Kiri, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. It…it means a lot, doesn’t it?”

“It’s so stupid,” Kiri growled, but Bakugou could tell even before he turned his back again that his friend was on the verge of tears. Another sucker punch to the gut. “It’s so stupid. It’s just tickling. I shouldn’t be so upset over this, right? It’s so dumb of me.”

“Oh, heck no.” No way was Bakugou letting him go down this path with his thoughts. He strode right up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. “Do not feel bad about this. This is my fault. This isn’t because you weren’t clear enough. I knew what you were asking for and I just stood there, like you said. Like a complete and total jerk. Do not apologize for my mistakes. Let me do that. Kiri, I’m so sorry.”

Kiri said nothing, but he swallowed thickly, and Bakugou pulled him into a hug before he could think twice about it. He held the redhead close and waited, hoping that his apology would be accepted. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. Then, finally, Kiri wrapped his arms around him, too, sighing heavily into his shoulder.

“What is it?” Bakugou asked softly, genuinely, trying not to disturb the moment. As much as he hated sentiment, he didn’t want to screw this up any more than he already had. “Why is it so important to you? I want to understand.”

“That’s just it,” Kiri mumbled in reply. “I can’t put my finger on it, exactly. It’s just…it’s so much fun, and it makes me feel good, and when it’s with my friends I know I can feel comfortable and be open about it without judgement, and even when I’m getting absolutely destroyed I know I’m safe and they’ll stop when I really need them to. But until then I can just…laugh until I can’t breathe.” The redhead pulled away from Bakugou, keeping his eyes averted. “I don’t know. It’s just so much fun. And with you, I know you’re good at tickling; I’ve heard Midoriya talk about it, I even experienced it a couple of times. And you’re my best friend, so more than anyone else I want you to tickle me into next year. So when I openly asked you to and all this time has gone by and you’ve had lots of opportunities and you didn’t, I just…” Kiri bit his lip. “I felt like maybe you really didn’t care. You act like it a lot, but this time…this time I wondered if you—”

“I care,” Bakugou said quickly, desperate to bring an end to that train of thought. “I care, Kiri, I’m just a complete jerk.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “God, I really screwed things up. I’m an idiot.”

Kiri offered a weak smile. “It’s okay—”

“No it’s not okay!” Bakugou snapped. “Are you kidding me? Look how upset you are over this! How is any part of this okay? No.” He shook his head. “No. I have to fix this. I want to fix this.” He thought for a moment, then met Kiri’s eyes. “Do you still want me to?”

Kirishima stared at him. “W-What? Now?”

“Or later,” Bakugou said quickly. “If I haven’t ruined everything. But – but yeah, I’ll do it now, if you want.”

Kiri took a step back. “Talk about whiplash.”

“I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know you’re upset, but if you’re okay with it I’d much rather make you laugh right now—”

“Bakugou,” Kiri said, “I want you to tickle me. But only if you want to. Don’t do it just because you feel obligated. Do it because you mean it.”

Bakugou nodded once. “I mean it. I’ll tickle you into oblivion now, and then later I’ll do it again and again and again. I do want to make you laugh, Kiri. Really.” He dared to smirk. “But even more, I kind of want to see how much it will take for you to beg me for mercy.”

Kiri frowned. “It will take a lot. I’m not kidding about that.”

“Then bring it on.” Bakugou tackled Kirishima onto his bed, making the redhead yelp in surprise. He swung a leg over to straddle him and paused, just once. “You sure this is okay right now?”

“For the love of god, Bakugou,” Kiri groaned, “if you don’t make good on your promise right here and now I swear I will end our friendship and then end you!”

“Good enough for me.” Bakugou grinned wickedly, shoving Kiri’s arms above his head. “All right, then. When you really can’t take it anymore, tap out. Until then, I will not stop. Got it?”

“Prove it,” Kiri spat, but his eyes were hopeful.

“Keep those arms up there.” Bakugou growled, releasing his hold and sitting back. “Move them and I’ll make it worse.”

“All bark and no bite?”

“Hah.” Bakugou smirked. “One more thing. I want to make you laugh so hard you forget your own name. But before that, I want to see how long you can go without laughing. Bet you’re not going to be very good at that part.”

Kiri smirked back. “Bring it on already.”

Bakugou did, lightly trailing his fingers from Kiri’s underarms down his ribs and sides to his stomach, watching the redhead twitch a little but – surprisingly – do very well in keeping himself in control. “Hmm,” the blonde mused. “Should have had you take your shirt off. That would make this easier.”

“Want to enjoy the view?” Kiri teased. “I told you I look good in my costume as it is.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Give me a break.”

“The shirt stays on. You made me wait this long. Now I’m going to make you work for it.”

“I don’t think that will be hard, considering I can just do this.” The blonde shoved his hands up under Kiri’s t-shirt and raked his nails down his ribs roughly, making Kiri choke on a startled yelp. “Giving in already?”

“No way!”

“We’ll see.”

Bakugou got to work, starting very lightly and increasing the pressure with every pass, making sure to focus on the ribs when he circled back to them each time, knowing that was Kiri’s worst spot and very likely the place that would break him and make him laugh first. Kirishima kept his arms above his head as instructed and his smile widened more and more, but he did better than Bakugou was expecting at keeping his mirth at bay.

“Dang, you’re stubborn,” the blonde muttered after a few minutes of this. “Stop resisting, already.”

“Y-You’re the o-one who wanted m-me to h-hold out,” Kiri stammered. If nothing else, he sounded close to breaking, and that was satisfying just on its own. “I’m c-c-committed n-now.”

“Well, knock it off. I see that smile, but I want to hear you laugh, spiky hair.” Bakugou decided to be a little mean and press his thumbs into Kiri’s bottom ribs, kneading gently. “Come on. Let it out.”

“Agh, n-no,” Kiri’s voice wobbled as he tried to stay in check, his grin splitting his face. He squirmed a little. “That’s cheating!”

“Oh, is it? Too bad. Playing dirty is kind of my thing when it comes to tickling. Ask Deku.”

“I k-know all about that. He’s t-t-told me how r-ruthless you ahare.”

Bakugou kneaded deeper. “Was that a giggle?”

“Ah! N-No, no!”

“It sounded like a giggle.”

“It w-w-wasn’t!”

Feeling evil, Bakugou kept up his kneading pace and began to tease. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Kiri whined. “Oh, y-you so don’t p-plahay fair!”

“Now that was a giggle.”

“You s-s-suck so much--!”

Bakugou dug his fingers in deep to Kirishima’s ribcage, and with a shriek of surprise, the redhead finally broke.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK I WAHAHAHAS DOING SO GOHOHOHOHOHOOD!!”

“Too good,” Bakugou corrected over Kiri’s laughter, impressed his friend’s arms were still above his head, albeit flailing now. “I was getting tired of you showing me up from such a helpless position. Forget resisting. It’s time to make you laugh your guts out.”

“YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU SOHOHOHOHON OF A--!!”

Bakugou slapped a hand over his mouth and tickled wildly with his other hand, enjoying the look of sheer panic that came over Kiri’s face. The redhead started to bring his arms down. “Ah-ah-ah! What did I say? Keep them up.” Kiri whined, fisting his hands into his hair while his legs kicked wildly, the sounds of his distress muffled. “Well now, this is satisfying. You look hilarious, all freaked out like that. Didn’t think I’d pull out all the stops, did you?”

Kiri screeched when Bakugou started pinching his bottom ribs.

“I mean, I suppose I could also tie you up if I really wanted to be mean. But that’s your call, and you can’t talk right now, so I’m not going to assume anything.”

Kirishima started to bring his arms down again, then settled for covering his face with them. His laughter was loud and crazy, even behind Bakugou’s palm over his mouth. The blonde smirked down at his friend, marveling at how much he seemed to enjoy this, despite the obvious ticklish distress he was in.

“You’re probably thinking, ‘I thought you said you wanted to hear me laugh? Why are you covering my mouth?’ Right?” Bakugou chuckled. “I do want to hear you laugh. But it’s so much fun to make you desperate first. You’re just dying to let it out now, aren’t you? No more holding back?”

Kirishima managed a split-second glare in the midst of his muffled hysterics before nodding frantically.

“That’s what I thought.” Bakugou finally pulled his hand away and used both hands to rake up and down Kiri’s ribs.

“SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOMEWHEHEHEHERE ELSE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, PLEASE GO SOHOHOHOMEWHERE EHEHEHEHEHELSE!!”

Bakugou laughed. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it here anymore? But I want to hear you laugh, Kirishima.”

“I AHAHAHAHAHAHAM LAHAHAHAHAHAUGHING!!” Kiri screamed, his arms flailing wildly above him. “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU!!”

“Honestly, I’m just trying to find the technique that will make you bring your arms down to stop me,” the blonde said with a shrug. “So I can make it worse.”

Kiri’s laughter was wild already, and they were only a few minutes in. He squealed and shrieked and thrashed and kicked but – somehow – kept his arms above him the entire time. Bakugou was impressed. That had to take serious effort on his part.

Now, how to break that concentration?

He’d tried kneading, pinching, and raking – all obviously effective forms of ticklish torture. But nothing had made Kiri’s fight-or-flight instinct kick in the way he’d hoped it would. What was he missing?

“Oh, I think I know what will drive you nuts.” Bakugou laughed, suddenly leaning down to blow the longest raspberry he could manage on Kirishima’s bottom ribs. Sure enough, not a whole second had gone by before he felt Kiri’s hands grabbing at his hair frantically.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DOHOHOHOHOHON’T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!”

“Well, well. I told you to keep your arms up.” Bakugou smirked, grabbing Kiri’s wrists and pinning them to the mattress by his sides. “Now I’ll have to punish you.”

Kiri gasped for breath while he could, his eyes wide and cheeks pink and hair wild, but behind it all, it was obvious to Bakugou that his best friend was having the time of his life. He couldn’t believe he’d made him wait this long. Made him practically beg for something as simple as a good tickling.

“Y-You’re gonna…b-break me,” Kiri stammered between breaths of air, sounding surprised. “I w-won’t be able to…to take it at this rate!”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it? You wanted me to destroy you, right?”

Kiri beamed. “Yeah.”

“Still good to go?”

“Yeah!”

Bakugou took a big breath, then blew another raspberry. Then another, then another, then another. Then he got to work absolutely destroying Kirishima with tickle torture, digging into his underarms and sides and hips and knees and feet, but especially his ribs, until the minutes added up and added up for nearly an hour, and by the time they were done Kirishima was laughing so hard his voice was giving out and tears streamed down his cheeks and he was pounding the mattress as desperately as he could to gain some shred of mercy from the tickle monster that was Katsuki Bakugou.

And when it was all over and Bakugou finally relented, Kirishima kept giggling even without the tickling stimulation, shaking his head in disbelief and gasping for oxygen. “I c-can’t…breheheathe…”

“You asked for it,” Bakugou reminded him, but he couldn’t help but grin at the mess he’d made of his closest friend. “And I promise, the next time you ask for it, I won’t hesitate to do this to you again. And again and again. As many times as you ask for it, I’ll destroy you, Kiri.”

“W-What about…playful tickles…?”

“Those, too.” Bakugou nodded. “I swear I’ll stop being an idiot about this. You ask, I’ll answer. I promise. I won’t ever let you give me the silent treatment again. I’ll be a best friend worthy of the title.” He wanted to cringe at himself for saying it, but it was all true, and besides that, Kirishima’s response was more than worth it.

“You were already a great best friend,” the redhead replied tiredly, lifting his head off the pillow to grin at him. “This just makes you that much better. Thank you, Katsuki. Seriously.”

Bakugou swallowed, feeling a little awkward due to all the sentiment in the room. He nudged Kiri’s leg. “Thanks for putting up with me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do. You’re a little rough around the edges but you’re a cool dude, King Explosion Murder.”

Bakugou’s lips twitched. “I told you if you called me that again there would be consequences.”

“Yeah?” Kiri chuckled. He leveled a clear, challenging smirk at the blonde. “Prove it.”

[let-them-read-fics]

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile. 

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please." 

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile. 

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone." 

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think? 

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous. 

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing. 

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else. 

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow. 

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you. 

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please." 

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood. 

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby. 

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler. 

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face. 

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long." 

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks." 

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect. 

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her. 

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore. 

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match. 

--

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring. 

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence. 

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd. 

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now." 

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture. 

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up. 

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away. 

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium. 

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things. 

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult. 

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong. 

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened. 

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction. 

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her. 

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together. 

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk. 

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that. 

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it." 

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this. 

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare. 

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork. 

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo. 

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by. 

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers. 

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how. 

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking. 

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over. 

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with." 

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan. 

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin." 

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower. 

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall. 

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose. 

"Very much so, yes." 

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then." 

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug. 

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm. 

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets. 

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused. 

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year. 

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile. 

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row. 

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible. 

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time. 

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance -- 

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off. 

And, of course, you can't forget the actors. 

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes. 

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back. 

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are. 

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. 

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened. 

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look. 

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat. 

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her." 

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago. 

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow. 

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times. 

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion. 

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again. 

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all. 

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together. 

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know. 

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing. 

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff." 

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course." 

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare." 

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief. 

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss. 

"What about Jeong?" 

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night." 

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to. 

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers. 

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?" 

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer." 

"I can totally see that." 

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips. 

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much." 

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing." 

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course." 

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that. 

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself. 

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more. 

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever." 

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time. 

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit. 

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours. 

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it. 

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again. 

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager. 

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle. 

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you." 

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds. 

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on. 

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that." 

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me." 

"Aww, don't be like that, baby." 

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens. 

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again. 

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement. 

"Good, because there's more where that came from." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."