#it’s five am this isn’t coherent but seriously what’s wrong with her

[skyclan-funny-name-squad]

Sometimes I think about how wild tawnypelt was as a character

Local girl who looks nothing like her father goes to join her exiled murderous fathers bloody dictatorship because she was being compared to him while her brother who is identical to him doesnt, she witnesses her father’s regime do public executions and multiple war crimes, never really ever comes out against him or mentions regret for leaving or fear at any of this, named her son after him after he died and supposedly rejected him in her dreams, none of this is really connected at all and she does nothing of relevance ever

[starkskypines]

i choose you

pairing: Loki x gn!Reader

summary: You’re hanging out with the Avengers when the game turns into either/or questions and you have to pick between Steve and Loki, but you have the biggest, most secret crush on Loki, so you say Steve. Loki convinces you to change your answer. 

warnings: none 

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I wrote this for day 28 of swoon june: domestic. And this is the most swoon worthy thing i’ve written the entire month lol

                                                 ***

“Banana pudding or french fries?” Natasha asks.

“French fries,” Tony says immediately. Clint agrees. Loki nods his head in agreement as well.

“Pudding,” you say. Steve hums his agreement.

“Pudding is delightful,” Thor agrees.

“My turn.” Clint grins, and you and Nat share a look. You know what this means. It’s going to be another ridiculous question.

Clint turns his head in your direction. “This one is specifically for y/n.” You don’t know what question he intends to ask, but you can read that teasing glint in his eyes. “Spend the rest of your life with Steve or Loki?”

You laugh. “What? That’s not like the other questions.”

“Yes, it is. You just have to make a choice.”

“Make a choice?” You laugh again. It sounds uncomfortable to your own ears. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Clint retorts. “It’s a simple question. Loki or Steve?”

You glance at Loki and find him still watching you from his place on the chair next to the sofa where you are currently perched on. You flick your gaze to the rest of the Avengers around the room, either on the same sofa as you or one of the other chairs. The movie night turned into truth or dare and then random questions as the night wore on, and now it’s two-thirty in the morning and clearly, your crush on Loki isn’t as hidden as you thought it was.

“I know who’d I choose,” Nat says. “It’s not a hard choice. We’ve all seen Steve’s muscles. Those rock-hard abs.”

“And his chiseled jawline,” Tony adds.

“C’mon, y/n, we all answered the questions. I don’t get why this is such a big deal.” Clint leans forward from the chair diagonally across from you.

You know hesitating isn’t good, but you also know that admitting to your crush on Loki is not good. You don’t want all the teases. You just want the feelings to go away and stop complicating your life.

“The hesitation says a lot.” Tony is staring at you now, and you’ve never been able to hide anything from him. And you’re lucky Nat decided to drink tonight, or she’d be reading all your secrets too.

“Fine. Fine. Cap of course. The whole star-spangled thing is... eye-catching.”

The laughs sound out and Clint smirks. You don’t look at either Steve or Loki as the game continues.

“Alright Thor, what’s your question?” Clint asks, allowing the game to continue, and you’re so grateful. The game goes for another hour, and you find the questions easier when they’re not about Loki and so it’s fun to make fun of the other Avengers and listen to their laughs. It’s so joyous here, and you’re glad to be a part of it.

“Well, I hate to be the responsible adult here, but I’ve got a 7 am meeting,  so let’s call it a night.”

“Tony? Responsible?” Nat laughs.

“Once in a lifetime achievement. You’re all lucky to be witnesses.”

The teasing continues as they leave the living room for their floors. You don’t notice you’re following Nat to the kitchen until you’re both putting your glasses in the sink.

Nat nods to you and leans forward. “You can’t fool me.”

You blink. “I’m tired. Talk in the morning?”

“Glad you know I won’t let this drop.” Her eyes soften. “But yes. I will let you sleep first, figure out your story.” She winks.

There’s movement from beside you. and you don’t have to look to know it’s Loki.

“Want me to walk you back to your room, or should Loki do the honors?”

You know you’re blushing. but you look to Loki and then back to Nat and glare at her. “I’ll let you walk me back.”

Loki moves quicker than you’re expecting, stepping toward you with a small smirk on his face, mischief and something softer in his eyes. “Wrong choice, darling.”

And oh, oh, you’re gone. Your breath catches and you don’t really think you can feel your heart anymore and is it possible to be instantly five degrees hotter? It’s his voice that does things to you that should be illegal and the way he moves toward you with such intent, and whatever he asks you know you’ll give it to him.

Your back hits the fridge, and you’re helpless to look away from his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his chin, his eyes, his lips.

“Want to reconsider your answer to that question and a previous one tonight?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, throat dry, and the chill of the fridge isn’t enough to cool you off.

“What?” You’re barely capable of coherent thought right now. Loki’s leaning in now and your brain is white noise and is your heart pounding straight out of your chest?

“Me or Steve?” You stare at his lips as they form those words and have to swallow before dragging your gaze back to his eyes, flashing green and entirely serious and oh, oh no, he can’t play with you like this. Doesn’t he know what he does to you?

“What would my answer change?” You aren’t breathing correctly anymore and you don’t know why you don’t just admit that duh, it’s Loki. It’s always Loki because it’s so obvious now as you can hardly control your reactions to him.

“Whether or not I kiss you goodnight.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth falls open, and your heart stops beating, lungs stop working, brain stops processing.

Nat’s laugh is what brings you out of it. “I think you broke them, Lokes.”

Loki doesn’t take his gaze off you, and that’s what kicks your brain back online. He’s not laughing or smirking. He’s serious. Maybe just to satisfy his curiosity, but you know how few in his life actually choose him and you want him to know that you do. You choose him. Over everyone.

You bite your lip a second before taking a breath and answering.

“Of course it’s you. Didn’t want to admit it because of all the teasing so I said Steve. But it’s been you for a while now.” You look away and shrug, not sure you want to see the rest of his reaction as his expression didn’t change as you spoke.

“Of course?” And he sounds confused so you meet his gaze now.

“Wouldn't seriously choose anyone else.” You mumble out, embarrassed by it because Nat is still there.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Loki holds out his hand. It’s instinct to grab his hand, and it’s warm and calloused yet soft all at once, a contradiction just like him. And when Loki pulls you to his side and you can feel his body against yours, your brain blanks out again.

It’s a silent walk back to your door, and you wonder what Loki thinks of you now, but it’s three-thirty in the morning and you don’t quite care anymore so you keep his hand in yours as you step from his side to punch in your door code. (It helps you sleep better to have a code on your locked door, despite knowing that you are beyond safe in the Avengers tower.)

“Goodnight, darling.” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the already warm skin, his mouth warm against your hand and it’s a moment that should remain unbroken forever and it seems to go on for just that long, but Loki raises his eyes to meet yours and then it’s over and his hand is slipping from yours and you step forward, not quite sure what you’re doing but knowing you don’t want this to be over. But Loki knows better than you what you want and as your fingers touch his face and your palms slide along his cheeks he’s already in your personal space with his face inches from yours.

“You’re tired, love.” And you know he’s right. You know that you’re only doing this because you don’t want this to go away in the morning, not because you’re ready. You’re not one to rush into things. And you definitely don’t want to rush this if tomorrow you wake up and it’s still here and Loki is still serious.

“You’ll be here in the morning?” you ask.

“You choose me. I’ll choose you.” His breath is warm against your cheek, and you sag forward into him letting your hands fall from his face and your head fall to his chest.

“You don’t know–”

“What that means.” He finishes your sentence and places a hand under your chin and tilts your face up so that he can look at you. “I hope you know what your words mean and that you don’t use them in vain because I would never lie to you.”

He’s serious, his words fanning across your cheek. And you swallow, bite your lip to keep from saying something unintelligible. You just nod quickly over and over again.

“The morning then.” He smiles, soft and warm, and leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “Sleep now.”

He steps away, and you feel the absence of his touch down to your very soul. But it’s okay because you’ll see him in the morning. So you turn and you open your door and you don’t look back. For this to work, there has to be trust. And you trust that these late-night words and touches will mean so much more in the morning.

                                                     ***

The morning comes, and Loki finds you after breakfast right as Steve invites you on his morning run. Sometimes you join him, depending on how you’re feeling, and after staying up so late last night you’re not really feeling it, but Steve wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t try to encourage you to go running with him, listing the benefits of running. And you know he’s right, that’s usually why you give in, and this morning you’re on the verge of giving in when Loki walks in and wraps his arms around you.

His arms slide around you, and the warmth of his body boils you alive. You’re blushing, and it only gets worse when you meet Steve's eyes and he raises a brow.

Loki rests his head on your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck. “Good morning, darling.”

His voice is still raspy from sleep, and you turn and his grip tightens and you’re so not okay right now but yep, yep, he’s still in his pajama top and bottoms with his sleep mussed hair and holy hotness, did he even brush it or did he just finger comb it, and oh, how you wish that it could be your fingers running through his dark hair. It has to be soft right? Oh, please let it be soft.

“I'll see you for our run tomorrow,” Steve promises and leaves the kitchen, and you’ve already forgotten what Steve was talking about, but you manage a nod and that’s all.

“You’re tense,” Loki muses.

“You–” You clear your throat. “You have your arms around me.”

Loki pulls away, leaving you feeling cold. He comes to stand in front of you. “I thought we’d agreed to do this.”

“Do what?” You shake your head. “I got like four hours of sleep. I don't really remember everything that was said.” You bite your lip as you move past him. That’s not entirely true because you remember most everything that was done and said by Loki, but you’re not sure of the meaning behind any of it.

“Oh.”

You turn back around once you’ve poured yourself a glass of water for your suddenly dry throat. Loki looks contemplative and a bit discouraged.

Loki looks up at you with a sudden grin. “Well, you said you’d choose me over Steve. Every time.”

You know you’re blushing again, and it’s ridiculous but all you can answer is, “Yes, that’s true.”

“And then I said I choose you. And that is still true.”

“Right.” You open and close your mouth for a moment, looking for the words. “And that means what exactly?” You take a breath. “Because for me it means that like I...I want to date...you.” You watch his reaction, and his smirk has you burying your face in your hands with a groan.

“Quite eloquent.” He comes up beside you and takes hold of your hand, the warmth of the contact shooting through you and causing you to raise your head. “But I appreciate the honesty.” He brings your hand to his lips and then releases it and steps away one step. He leans on the counter and looks up at you, blue eyes now serious. “I would like to woo you. make you mine. I believe you midgardians do call it dating.” He smiles.

You nod and proceed to stumble over your words. “Yeah, no, yeah, that, uh, is good.”

Loki laughs and turns his head away as he moves into a standing position.

You know your face must be redder than Thor’s cape at this point, and you feel like you’ve been laying out in the sun for far too long but you’re overjoyed too. Loki wants to date you. Last night wasn’t some sleep-deprived misunderstanding. You’re on the same page.

“So like if we went out for hotdogs in Central Park and ice cream, that’d be our first date?”

Loki tilts his head with a questioning smile. “You really want our first date to be disgusting hot dogs from an unsanitary street merchant?”

You laugh because you’re nervous. “No. I know you don’t like hotdogs. I know that. I just…” You take a deep breath. “I don't need anything fancy. I don't want anything fancy. I…” And your smile goes soft. “I just want to spend time with you. Actually, I’d be more fine with ordering in hibachi and turning on the PS4 and crushing you at Star Wars Battlefront, and then going out for ice cream. Bad or awkward things tend to happen when I go out with the Avengers.”

Loki laughs. “You do seem to be our bad luck charm.”

“Right, and I don't want to mess up our first date. So let’s stay in.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Loki smiles, and your heart flutters in your chest. He's still in his pajamas just as relaxed as can be in the kitchen as the two of you plan your date, and it's unbelievable in a sense that last night’s game turned into this.

“I should go get dressed.” He moves forward. “Is it frowned upon to kiss on the first date?”

You shake your head, and he takes a step closer.

“Right, and the date begins when exactly?” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes and that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.

“Now,” you say, blinking up at him.

He smiles, slow and sexy, and you find yourself leaning toward him. He steps close, a hand on your waist.

“I'm going to kiss you now.”

“Yep.”

He dips his head down and his hand comes up and tilts your chin up. His lips are warm against yours and you melt against him. He slides his hand from your chin to your neck before sliding around to your shoulder, providing his arm as a cushion for your head. It’s the softest, most gentlest kiss, and you never want it to end but end it must as all good things do.

Loki pulls away with a small soft smile on his lips and you lean up and kiss him again, just a simple press of the lips to his. He grins and laughs. And you laugh too, staring into his blue eyes and hoping that that kind of a kiss will happen a hundred times again. You’ll never tire of it, never tire of Loki. And you get the feeling he feels the same about you.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.

Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ･◡･) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.

so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that

good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler

bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one

good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao

bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god

(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.

but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)

anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today

huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on

look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months

anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol

yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all

still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol

(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)

anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol

aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting

buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy

wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on

damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo

I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol

uh oh but wait

um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do

holy shit

so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol

and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young

anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this

LMAO

someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol

(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)

anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about

oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man

now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse

OH MY GOD

YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO

lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art

anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ���_ಠ faces

lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off

he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today

on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose

YESSSSSSS

OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on

YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU

lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking

but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it

also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad

YESSSSSSSSSSS

DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH

p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

UCK

NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE

fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god

WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck

-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT

bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now

my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them

how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what

(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)

Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment

on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao

anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that

and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob

[i-love-side-characters]

hot take for the aoas fandom but i don’t ship curaday. not bc i just don’t like the ship but bc i don’t like how faraday was curie’s previous mentor. idk... it just seems manipulative and predatory to me that they ended up together with the power dynamic so unbalanced.

hmm i definitely see where you're coming with that. and don't worry its fine that you don't ship them!!! that's perfectly acceptable!!!

i have to say a few things first on the predatory aspect, if that's alright. also disclaimer this is quite rambly, i'm sorry i'm just very tired.

additional notes:

important points/things i want to stress in bold

quotes are italicized

thunderhead + the toll quote used!!! not really spoilers, but careful if you haven't read books 2 and 3!!!

if you're not a coward here's my askbox

now in my opinion, there are a few things that might make it seem as though curaday is a very predatory relationship. one, the mentor/apprentice problem. two, the age gap. three, the essence of their romantic relationship. because you didn't state why you felt it was predatory, i'll adress those issues.

1) the nature of their relationship during the mentor years

the "original" curaday as such wasn't really a romantic relationship. there was no hint of the relationship between the two while faraday was mentoring curie. at the time when their relationship was only mentor/apprentice and indeed adult/minor, there were no requited feelings from faraday.

"....then tore [the journal entry] out the next day, when i broke down and confessed my love with eyeball-rolling melodrama. [...] [scythe faraday], on the other hand, was a gentleman [...] and let me down as easily as he could." ― scythe curie, (page 347, scythe)

just to be thorough, here are several definitions of "let down." all links in sources.

convey bad or disappointing news in a considerate way, so as to spare the person's self-respect. ― idioms free dictionary

to try to give someone bad news in a way that does not upset them too much. ― macmillan dictionary

an unrelated expression is let someone down easy. this phrase refers to breaking up with someone in a relationship in such a way that they are not devastated of overly sad. ― writing explained

so it's clearly implied that faraday said no to her. after curie confesses her feelings, she describes what happen after that.

"i lived in [scythe faraday's] house, and remained his apprentice, for two more awkward months." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)

note that there is no mention of there ever being a romantic relationship between the two scythes during the remainder of the mentorship. this shows that no adult/minor predatory behaviour had occurred between the two scythes.

just to add on, some thoughts from my friend ref. ( @jam-is-my-food )

"if their romance took place when or anytime around when curie was his apprentice, yes. absolutely that would be a tilted power dynamic and uncomfortable and Not Good."

this, as well as the quotes, removes the "predatory" aspect of your concern. but that's just my opinion!!! you can still believe that is an unhealthy and wrong relationship. but personally i don't think the mentor/apprentice concern is a factor, since the romantic aspect took place much later.

2) the age gap during the years of their romantic relationship

there is a 5 year age gap between the two scythes. according to the wiki, at the start of scythe, curie is 219 years old, and faraday is 224. during scythe curie's explanation of her crush on faraday, she pinpoints their exact ages.

"i was seventeen and full of righteous indignation at a world that was still heaving in the throes of transformation." ― scythe curie (page 345, scythe)

"i was seventeen, remember. childish in so many ways. i thought myself in love." ― scythe curie (page 346, scythe)

"but at twenty-two, [scythe faraday] was just as inexperienced in such matters as i was." ― scythe curie, (page 346, scythe)

the five year age gap during the mentorship would have made it an adult/minor relationship, but as they grew older that simply isn't the case.

"then, nearly fifty years later, when we both had turned our first corner and were seeing the world through youthful eyes once more―but this time with the wisdom of age on our side―we became lovers." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)

they became romantically involved until fifty years had passed. which would put curie at around 67, and faraday at around 72. curie even outright says that they had "the wisdom of age on [their] side." this shows that curie believed that both parties were mature in their starting of a romantic connection.

here is some more input from ref. ( @/jam-is-my-food )

"and, adding on to [the earlier statement], if faraday was the one who had liked marie when she was his apprentice. even if a lot of years had passed, that would i think still make it inherently predatory and yikes.

but the thing is, that's not what happened. all that happened when she apprenticed for him was that marie had a crush on michael.

and he turned her down. because she was a kid. and that's the end of it."

this, i would say, addresses the general complaint of the age gap between the two. most often people believe that because faraday apprenticed curie that he was a lot older but that's not true. the gap is only 5 years. now that absolutely does not make their relationship "not predatory", but it does show that both parties were mature in their decisions.

3) after their romantic relationship + friendship

now this part is less technical than the others. this is mostly my opinions. but just to start off, i want to look at their relationship after the 7 deaths and 70 years.

your feeling of their relationship is that it is "manipulative and predatory". now i've never been in an unhealthy relationship before, but i don't believe this is one (please correct me if i'm wrong! i am not speaking from experience here and could easily make a mistake!).

out of everything, their treatment of one another after the romantic relationship stands out to me the most. personally if their romantic had been unhealthy in that sense, i don't believe they would have stayed friends as they did.

i had written an essay a while about curie and faraday together. if you could read it that would be great! however i'm linking my friend nisha's ( @genyyasafin ) reblog of it, as she adds in a small bit at the end about how faraday humanizes curie. [ here ] is the link.

as i was saying, i don't think this is a predatory and manipulative relationship simply from the way they act afterwards. they are described as old friends constantly, and that friendship seems natural, to me at least. now you could be saying that this is a manipulative relationship and neither of them notice, but i don't think that's true.

“seven deaths, and seventy years later, many things had changed. we remained old friends after that, but nothing more.” ― scythe curie (page 348, scythe)

"i have observed the rise and fall of the romantic relationship between [scythe curie and scythe faraday], as well as the many years of devoted friendship that has followed." ― the thunderhead (page 383, thunderhead)

these two show that even the thunderhead, which is an incredibly knowledgeable force, does not seem to be troubled by their relationship.

not to mention this quote:

"other scythes―the ones i'm friendly with―will call me marie." ― scythe curie (page 235, scythe)

and through that quote it is shown that both curie and faraday are comfortable around each other. this isn't every instance in the books, but the ones i found quickly.

"marie―scythe curie that is―...." ― scythe faraday (page 371, scythe)

"and you, marie." ― scythe faraday (page 383, thunderhead)

"where are you my dear marie?" ― (page 102, the toll)

i didn't add in any quotes where its the reverse and she calls him michael, because he never mentioned his policy for first-name-basis, but this shows how comfortable curie is around faraday. not to mention it is implied that curie and faraday talk often, as curie knows about an event that only faraday, citra, and rowan know about.

"didn't you already attend a family wedding?"

citra wondered how scythe curie knew that, but wasn't about to let herself be derailed. ― scythe curie - dialogue, citra terranova - narraration (page 231, scythe)

the comfort in which they speak to and reference one another suggests to me, at least, that there is not a manipulative intent or feeling in the relationship.

4) conclusion i suppose

if you read all the way here, then i applaud you for your dedication and i thank you very much. that seriously means so much to me.

to anon: this essay was a whole 1,429 words. i am so sorry. however i do disagree with your opinion but i hope i've voiced mine in a somewhat coherent manner. thank you so much for reading all this way!!!

5) sources:

scythe curie wiki

scythe faraday wiki

arc of a scythe - book one: scythe

arc of a scythe - book two: thunderhead

arc of a scythe - book three: the toll

let down - idioms by the free dictionary

let down - macmillan dictionary

let down - writing explained

[ubemango]

one time, in your room (m)

note: I wrote this after receiving such an enthusiastic response to my virgin!jk drabbles. I really can’t thank you guys enough for expressing interest in this story, it really helped jumpstart lunyua lol 😭😭🥰🥰!!!!!!! I’m happy she’s back:) I would be absolutely nowhere without it heheh. My thank yous are also due to Violet and my crème de la crème for helping me write this back in March--I love you both very, very much!!!!!! Enjoy :D

DISCLAIMER. there’s one scene based off a tweet that I can’t find the link to lol... it’s about getting fingered till u cry. You’ll know when you get there 😭

PAIRING. jeongguk/reader GENRE. romance, college au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 17.3k WARNINGS. alcohol, oral (f receiving), cum shot, fingering, sexting, phone sex/masturbation, face sitting, riding, talks about Babies, jk loving oc A Lot SUMMARY. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

                                          part 1: emergency tactics

It started five months in.

Jimin probably didn’t mean anything by it. There’s talk and then there’s inebriation, and Jimin slurred roughly between the two like the drunkard he is. But Jeongguk was still hurt and you didn’t know what to do.

“He called me a pussy then told me to fuck one instead,” Jeongguk said under the strobe lights, the plastic ones you buy at the dollar store and you know it’s Hoseok who got them because he’s frugal, not cheap. The couch was itchy under your skirt. “Am I—is it really that bad? Like am I doing this wrong? Am I taking too long, or—”

“No, oh my god. Babe,” you said, and the cooler in your hand found the floor before you cupped his face. He was pouting. “Doing things—like that—it’s—it shouldn’t be something you stress over, okay? Don’t listen to other people. I like you. And Jimin is a whore.”

Jeongguk snorted. You could still see the doubt in his eyes, though. Shiny because he’s tipsy, but that downward droop still there. “You’re the best,” he said as sincere as he could sound.

And he’d left it at that. He got way more drunk though, definitely influenced by his post-teen-pre-adult angst but what’s a 21-year-old supposed to do with ample service of alcohol and an aching heart? You’d left him to it and cleaned the vomit on his shirt after. It was an okay party.

It stayed okay for a bit, too. Jeongguk isn’t an insecure person, but his bouts of uncertainty were getting more and more frequent. Especially when all his friends were naturally horny and really fucking stupid.

“So you’ve been dating for almost eight months and you—still haven’t defiled him,” Jimin says, now absolutely sober and still absolutely dumb.

You can feel Jeongguk’s ears heat up. “Dude.”

Jimin ignores him and turns to you. “Aren’t you like—bored?”

“When will you stop talking,” Jeongguk murmurs through a bite of his burrito bowl.

“I’m not,” you answer Jimin, flipping through another page of a study on birth control. A convoluted piece of shit, as Taehyung put so eloquently, but he left a couple minutes ago for a study group. “And stop bullying him.”

“I’m just shocked,” Jimin continues. “How does someone so hot end up with someone even hotter and like—not immediately participate in procreation. This is a crime!”

“Look.” Your textbook flips closed. “I don’t know what your obsession is with this guy’s dick over here, but it’s mine to worry about.”

“I think you upset her,” Jeongguk says.

“I know what it’s like to be pressured into sex,” you say. You feel Jimin lock up. “Look—sorry, that was baggage and I’m stressed.” Jimin nods. “But seriously? It’s—he’s—Jeongguk’s fine the way he is, alright?”

You taper off. It’s silent save for the milling of other students in the quad, but the air is thick. Sliced through with your anger but you’d rather have this conversation in private, without Jimin and his probing. Unnerving Jeongguk was like lighting the fuse in you, and maybe it was the instinct to preserve whatever purity Jimin keeps insisting on but you’ve never seen your boyfriend so upset about something. It kind of hurt to see him like this.

You get back to taking notes when Jimin talks again. “I’ll go,” he says. “Jeongguk I—”

“It’s fine.” Doesn’t sound like it though because he’s tight-lipped. 

Jimin salutes and sidles away. A bubble of unfinished conversations swells around you.

“Thanks for—that, I guess,” he says.

Your highlighter squeaks against the paper. “Jeongguk.”

“M’yeah?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Maybe that was a bad start because Jeongguk sputters. You think he squawks, too—and he’s definitely fidgeting, lots of cut-off noises in his throat as he tries to say anything coherent. You look at him and he finally takes a breath in. “I—”

“You’re worried.”

His face contorts in confusion. “About what?”

“I don’t know. But I can feel it.”

“Same wavelength,” he laughs. Empty but he knows you’re just trying to help.

“Look.” He doesn’t but that’s because you’ve turned back to your books. “We have sex when we have sex. And if someone tries to—bother you about it, you can tell them they can suck on my fat cock.”

You hear him chortle. “I’ll do that.”

The conversation ends. You study. You still feel Jeongguk fidgeting.

Now there’s three weeks left till the term is over.  

“My—brain. It’s exploding. There’s too much going on.”

Jeongguk’s desk is a cramped space—the only place you can prop your textbook up against is his sweatshirt wrapped into a wrinkly ball. Graciously taken from his hamper because he still hasn’t done his laundry. The chair creaks when you spin to look at him: a dejected blob of comfy clothes surrounded by looseleaf paper and sticky notes. “Break time?”

He slumps against his pillows, arms out like a sad toddler. “Break time.”

This probably means you’ll cuddle for the next three hours but there’s little to complain about when Jeongguk purrs into your hair once you settle into his chest. There’s a warmth to him you can’t get anywhere else. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Just working too hard.”

“Okay,” you murmur. Jeongguk’s breath evens out the way it does when he wants to stop thinking. You can hear the hum of the fridge outside. 

“Want this to be over.”

You trace your nail over his collarbone. “I know.” 

“When’s your awards ceremony?”

“In two weeks,” you say.

“Same time as our final game.”

You lean your head up when he sighs, watching his eyes flutter in the afternoon shade of his curtains. A calmer period right after a hectic schedule of school, because you have Professor Kwon to thank for her excessive meetings about tutorials and assignments. It never occurred to you that you might’ve been imposing when you showed up to Jeongguk’s dorm with your homework, but he’d been studying too. Same wavelength, he’d say.

“Jimin been bothering you lately?”

“No, thank god. Don’t think I could take anymore prodding.”

This is the first time you’ve asked since that afternoon in the quad, though now Jimin’s been less annoying whenever you see him with Jeongguk. You know he’s just itching for your boyfriend to finally get his dick wet. 

And you can’t blame him—that was his intention when he finally got Jeongguk to ask you out. Friendship with Jeongguk was a weird stretch of time, especially when he’d spent the entirety of it silently pining for you: involuntarily single, but so preoccupied with the care and keeping of your GPA you’d been blind to any advance. Not that he tried anything, though. 

He’d been in his second year, still getting used to the enormity of campus grounds as a scholarship-bound athlete. And on top of all his schoolwork he had to balance the fragility of having a crush on an upperclassman well on her way to PhD candidacy. It was a good thing he was cute, though, and Jimin had no qualms about embarrassing Jeongguk any chance he got when you were around. The blush when Jimin had pushed him to your desserts table at one of the indoor Farmers’ Markets still burns in the furthest love-lit corner in your mind.

“You remember when you asked me out?”

“God.” A too-late night in the library that prompted the chivalrous part in Jeongguk because he’d brought you to the bus stop too close for campus police to escort you. You’d been good friends for a while already, the hurdle of skirting around each other knocked down when Jeongguk finally got the guts to insert himself in the your friend circle. In that wet shelter, a quivering lip. The sure that now has you seven-and-a-half months down the line with arguably the best thing that’s happened to you since you started your college career, but you won’t tell him that. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“I don’t know. Just—feels like forever ago.”

“Sappy.”

“Maybe the stars are aligning,” you say.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know, just. Sometimes when I lie down with you I feel like I have to—lay myself bare.”

“Then bare yourself.”

You pause. “I’d like to suck your dick.”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” Jeongguk says like he’s winded.

“Two weeks of me finishing assignments and you at hockey practice. You know. Take advantage of the time we have with each other.”

“Good point. But I have a counter offer.”

Jeongguk is always a giver. “Which is?”

“I eat you out instead.”

“You’re too good to me,” and this is the only response you can come up with without sounding too shocked. Or horny. Not that you’d ever shy away but Jeongguk had a way of burning you up from the inside. “You’re down for that?”

“Always,” he says, then rolls you over. All that muscle from his workouts barring you from even thinking about fighting him back so you let him push you till you’re comfortable. But this isn’t about you. Not at the moment, anyway. 

“Take your shirt off.” Jeongguk does this so quickly his face almost crashes into yours when he comes back down, gasping a laugh that he breathes into you when his mouth meets yours. A quick tangle of your legs around his waist has him lying over you with ease, caught in his cage of pressed-down elbows and intimacy. 

“Wanna—take care of you.” He trails his mouth down your neck, bed squeaking when his knees pad down. Lips tasting lower and now he lifts your shirt up to your chest, pressing wetness to your stomach and you’re quick to discard your clothing if only to see Jeongguk pause at the zipper of your jeans. “Can I—?”

You nod. 

His fingers don’t shake but he’s blinking fast, pulling on the waistline of the rough denim and shucking it past your feet, sighing when your panties come into view. A short-lived reverence when he leans down to mouth at your sex above the thin cotton and your legs spread wide for his arms to cling onto.

“Tell me—tell me what you like,” he says. A shy demand.

“Take my underwear off then I’ll tell you.”

There’s warmth lost when Jeongguk slides your panties down to one ankle but he’s over you in the second it takes for you to flick it off. No pause in his eagerness but now he lies in wait for your instructions. The way he pauses for you is so agonizingly hot you might combust.

“It’s—I like it when… I feel you lick at my…” God you sound fucked. But Jeongguk’s a wild card and takes it in stride, hands once again finding purchase around your thighs and you feel his hard tongue on you, a wet slide that has your stomach caving. It’s the natural twitch in your fingers that prompt you to keep a loose grip in his hair, other hand tight in the bed like your proxy anchor. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah…”

Jeongguk laves your core, pressing harder the higher he goes. Contingency he takes advantage of because you get louder. It’s the lick on your clit that has you sighing. “Oooh, you—use the… tip of your tongue. And lick right—there.”

He’s so pliant you feel like you’re throttling him. There’s a forward insistence of his head until you feel the flat of his tongue pressed fully against you, his neck rolling with every shift of your hips. In control of your pleasure and he makes it feel like this is what he was made to do. His fingers get tight. “You taste good,” he exhales right onto your sex and you nearly crush his head with your thighs.

“Oh my god.” Your breaths are lost. You might hide your face but that would mean losing sight of Jeongguk providing a service only he can spell out with his tongue. “Ah—”

There’s a little squeak further down the bed and you notice the small flutter of his groin caught in the warmth of him and the sheets. His lips close around your nub before you can say anything, slurping that has your gut wrangled, your fingers gripping his hair as you get lost in his love. Your eyes roll back. “Oh fuck, that—agh—”

He’s made you come before. And the familiar tone of your incoming bliss is something he can memorize—he probably already has judging by the train wreck of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you. A swindler of your orgasms but you’d gladly hand yourself over if it meant deceiving your pussy into its own demise.

“Fuck you’re—so sexy like this,” Jeongguk mumbles. You whine at his attention but now you’re running even hotter than ever.

You’re not even telling him what to do anymore but you know he knows it’s good, a message sent with every twitch of your sex into his mouth and now his fingers are splayed along your pelvis to keep you from bucking up. He doesn’t even need his fingers. It’s the hardened tongue, the little slashes on your clit as his head swings back and forth that have you squealing: “Yes, like that. Oh I’m cumming—fuck—!”

Jeongguk hums when you jerk your hips up, convulsions in all your sweetest parts and your throat is dry from all your moaning, the swell of your lungs so hard to keep up with but he always has you losing your breath. Spit collects in its warmth down your ass but it’s a lost thought when Jeongguk lathers you into your come-down, legs like jelly and he helps your knees together when you finally stop trembling. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you feel his lips on your mouth, complaint of catching a break right behind your teeth when you kiss with what little strength remains in you. 

“That was. Really good,” you whisper. Jeongguk laughs. And he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with his wet mouth and red cheeks. “Do you wanna cum?”

He looks like he’ll say no. A bitten lip instead of confirmation. “I—”

“Please, I want you to.” Like a switch turned on he lights up, head bobbing and now he’s shoving his jeans past his ass, underwear down too. “You wanna—come on my face?”

His eyes look like they’re leaking out of his face. A strangled noise escapes his throat. He probably thinks you’re on crack but it’s just in his nature for him to assume a dazed auto-pilot whenever you say shit so outlandish. “You—I—I-I—Can—?”

“You can cum—god you can cum anywhere. I’m yours. Remember?” Reaching behind, you feel for the clasp of your bra, flinging it off before you pull on Jeongguk by the dip of his back until his knees straddle your ribs. “Is this good?”

“Can—could you—spit… on it.” His voice dwindles like he’s caught between the threshold of dirty and pushing it. You don’t answer because your neck straining for the tip of his dick and down the rest of his shaft is all he needs for one. Jeongguk bucks into you. “Oh fuck—ngh—ah!”

If his grinding on the mattress was a ticking bomb, your tongue on his cock is the thirty seconds till detonation. And by the sounds of Jeongguk groaning into the mid-afternoon sun slipping through his curtains you know he’s almost there. “Lie down, lie down,” he instructs, hand replacing your mouth in a stroke so quick you’re scared he might get cum in your hair.

“Agh—fuck yeah I’m—”

A spurt of his cum stains your lip, then your cheek. You feel some on the tip of your nose too but Jeongguk points his dick down to your tits, spilling all his hot frustration on your even hotter skin and you might cum again from the visual of him looking so spent. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that—” Jeongguk swallows twice— “I… wow.”

His dick is getting soft. There’s sweat pooling where your body meets the sheets. “Wanna pass me tissues?”

“Oh fuck. Yeah, yeah—here, sorry.” Jeongguk makes soft passes with a wad of cotton over your chest, handing one to you for your face. “Do you—do you like it? When I… cum on you?”

“Yeah.” You think about making a weird comment about sipping on his juice but you’ll save it for later. You focus on not letting his spunk flake on your cheek. “It’s hot. Really.”

“Good,” he says. Flopping down after shooting the soiled tissue into the basket and now he seems exhausted. “Do you feel gross or is it just me.”

“Gross how?”

“Gross like I need a shower.”

You can’t deny him. “Wanna shower?”

“Yep,” he says with no hesitation, and he doesn’t let you say anything else when he grabs you by your wrists. Somehow, everything feels lighter.

Sometimes Jeongguk invites you out to practice. It’s boring and you don’t know a single rule about gameplay, but the presence of him despite being a ways away on the ice is still a comfort on its own. 

The arena is frigidly cold, and while you aren’t without distraction (re: Assignments) it’s still one you can barely get yourself to really focus on. You rub your face in frustration. You hear the sound of the hockey puck passed around in harsh slaps.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Jimin,” you acknowledge. He drops down next to you. “Here to spy on hockey ass too, huh.”

“That and Hoseok promised to get me dinner later.” You raise your eyebrow. “Did one of his assignments.”

“Forgot you were a chemistry genius.” Clicking your tongue, you watch the big 97 of Jeongguk’s jersey as he glides around behind the glass. He waves when he sees you looking. You’d greet him back but your hands are too perfect where they are in the heat of your sweater pockets so you wave your head in what you hope looks like excitement. 

“Been holding up okay?” You turn. Jimin’s eyes are a blaze of concern. “The other week, in the quad. You were pretty stressed.”

“Final paper.”

“Dissertation?”

“Working up to that,” you say.

“So you’re a scholar scholar.”

“Mm.” Your laptop screen blinks to black. “Something like that.” You hear Jimin snicker. He’s coiled up, stomach caved in a tiny laugh, eyes crinkled. Too amused. “What?”

“I’m just—” Jimin takes a breath in to stem his impending laughing fit— “so confused. Like, there’s Jeongguk who can eat eight cups of spicy ramen and literally bomb the bathroom with his shit—and then right next to him is Jane Goodall but with human babies.”

“He loves spicy ramen,” you comment.

“Yeah but do we like his stank? Nope. And you really just compared pronatalism to liking ramen. You know you’re out of his league.”

Jeongguk, completely oblivious to Jimin’s really weird anecdote, brings a fist up in cheers when he shoots the puck into the net. “Well. At the very least he’s cute.”

Jimin heeds with a hum to watch the play on ice. Seeing the team skate around with their broad-shoulders and thick helmets is an odd kind of relaxation. A team of huge men cutting the ice with knives on their feet but the sound is a swish satisfying enough for those kinds of videos that put you to sleep. Rough and gentle, just like Jeongguk. “I’m glad Jeongguk met you,” Jimin starts again.

“Mm. I think he has you to thank.” You boot up your laptop once more in the hopes you get inspired to type, but now Jimin has you distracted even more. 

“He just… used to be so quiet. And I’m gonna brag here but he’s got good friends. But meeting you was a game-changer.”

“Hm.”

“He was so passive.” You think to Jimin almost two years ago, pushing a slightly-smaller Jeongguk towards your table at the market. One look in your eye; pointing to the donut closest to him. Your finger touched his palm when you dropped the chocolate-glazed on it and he looked lost. “But now he’s just. Happy. All the time. It’s nice to see.”

There’s 97 again. Then Jeongguk turns and glides closer to the rail. He holds up ten fingers. Ten till over. You give a thumbs up. You feel yourself shivering but you’re not cold anymore. “Then I’m glad, too.”

“Good kid.” Jimin waves too, and Jeongguk skates off without looking at him. “Bitch! Anyway.” He leans back on his hands, feet perched on the row in front. “You guys… good now?”

And your screen fades to black again. “Oh god.”

“Sorry, fuck. Sometimes I think—no sometimes I don’t think. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” You turn to Jimin looking very apologetic, keeping mum with his lips folded in. “It’s—he’s. A lot more eager, I have to say.”

“And are you okay with that?”

You hesitate. “I mean if we’re getting vulgar here—”

“Absolutely not, you are not telling me what he did with his dick.”

You raise your hands in surrender. You wouldn’t have told him anyway. It’s just nice to see a flustered Jimin, especially after what he’s subjected you and Jeongguk to. Good-natured but overtly so, and now you’re both blushing. “It’s been good.” 

Great. Now you’re thinking about Jeongguk and his cock again. Obviously it’s not unwelcome but riling you up is getting too easy.

“Then that’s good,” Jimin says. You hear the blow of the whistle. A congregation of fist bumps forms at the exit of the rink, and Jeongguk lets everyone pass him to get off. “Well I’m gonna go get ready for some free food. See you, yeah?”

He offers a high-five you hit hard. “Bye.”

“Oh. And good luck on your paper. You coming to the game by the way?” Jimin asks. He jumps off the bleachers, leaving you to stare at your honest attempt at getting work done. You close your laptop with a sad click. 

“I have an awards ceremony that day,” you explain. “I’ll try and catch it.”

“Don’t work too hard.” Just then, Jeongguk runs up behind Jimin not at all silently—his gym bag is ginormous—to catch him in a headlock. “Wha—”

“Why are you talking to my girlfriend,” Jeongguk interrogates. He’s probably wet with heat because Jimin scrunches his nose and shoves him off.

“You’re a pig, did you even shower.”

“Smell my armpits and you’ll get your answer.”

“Anyway,” Jimin groans. “I’m off.” He walks to the changing room in a swagger so calculated you’d yell at him for showing off his ass. But Jeongguk drags your attention away when he steps in front of the bleachers, leaning over until you greet him with a kiss.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says against your mouth.

You plug your nose for effect. “So you didn’t shower.”

“I rinsed! Don’t be mean.” He watches as you shove all your things into your bag, his hand poised for you to give it to him, and inside you falter at his generosity but you shoulder the strap and use his outstretched palm to help you up instead. “I wanted your bag, miss.”

“No, you already have a heavy one.”

“Let me carry it for you—” But you shut him up with a tiptoe and a peck to his open mouth. “Don’t distract me!”

You ignore him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the exit. “Let’s go, I might miss my bus.”

Eight p.m. is a dead hour on campus grounds. You see only a handful of straggling students going back to res, even more going into the library building. The lamps guide your every step. Jeongguk’s fingers tangle in yours. “So you aren’t free at all the rest of the week right?”

“Yeah.” You try not to look at him because you know he’s pouting. “I didn’t get any work done thanks to your shouting.”

“That was Yoongi,” Jeongguk defends. “And sorry.”

You reach the bus shelter. “I’m kidding.” The neon sign overhead says your bus is due in three minutes. “I’m—I like going to your practice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like seeing my star hockey player tear it up on the ice,” you joke. Jeongguk laughs into your lips when he bends down lock them with his own. 

“Was it sexy enough for you?”

“Oh yeah. Got my pussy rumbling.”

He balks. “You’re so annoying.”

Two minutes. “It’s starting again.”

“What is?” In the dark light of the evening moon rising, you are reminded of this bus shelter seven months ago. A tower of nerves over you. If you think hard enough, you can still hear the shaky question he’d let dangle from his tongue, the one that has you here with him now. But now Jeongguk is nervous for different reasons. “Oh, like when you disappear on me for like five years.”

You see the light of the bus coming. You wrap Jeongguk in your arms. “Yeah. I’m only free next week.”

“Take it easy,” he says. Only one person gets off at the stop. “Just text me. Don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Last time—a month into your relationship. When you texted him every four days because of your midterms and he’d gotten so worried he genuinely wept when you showed up to his doorstep. It was a good thing you’d brought food too; not that you were expecting a cry fest but he’d felt better once he was filled with fried noodles and your affection. You concede to his request with a nod.

He lets you leave with one last kiss to your forehead. “See you,” you say. The air is alive with what you have to leave behind for the time being.

The week is rough. Professor Kwon asks you to submit marks sooner than you anticipate, so the need to get your paper done becomes a lot more urgent. One student hasn’t even handed in her assignment, which—fine. You don’t have any qualms about the zero you input. But the angry email with the threat to report you to an academic advisor the next day has you so on edge Namjoon agrees to grade half your assignments next time.

Jeongguk, somehow, eludes you too. Graduate school demands more tears than sweat and blood and while he tries his best to comfort you during your work-filled days, he’s been getting busier with hockey practice too. The added thought of starting to study for your exams is just another cake-topper. And it isn’t as if you’re going days without talking to Jeongguk, but it’s still a sting to the romantic part in you that misses him.

A week and a half before your big paper is due is a Tuesday. The girl who dissed you in your email doesn’t show up to tutorial. Everyone is dismissed for the evening. It’s good. 

Nothing beats the giddy jump in your step when you find a cubby in the library close enough to an outlet, though.

Then you get a text from Jeongguk.

[8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m free the rest of the night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me love u bich u really deprived me of touch for an entire week  [8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wya

He meets you at the library with sweaty bangs and indents on his cheek from his helmet. You briefly contemplate jumping him. The feeling is quelled with the reminder that the library doesn’t tolerate loud noises and Excessive Romantic Gestures, so you opt for:

“Sexy.” You’re up on your feet to give him a quick hug and he makes a disgruntled face before dropping a kiss to your mouth.

“You wet yet?”

You glare to hide the need to balk. You plop back down. “You ate pussy once, don’t think this gives you free points to get so cocky.”

He pauses. “Sorry?”

“Sit. And don’t—ask me that again.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jeongguk cowers into the seat next to you. “What’s my scholar up to tonight?”

“Researching about Western Europe and their refugee policies.”

He doesn’t look like he’s interested but he makes a contemplative noise. “Very… educated. But anyhow. I’ve been thinking.” Uh oh. “And I have something. It was a week-long thought process but I have it.”

Your pens roll along the wood of the desk. “Have what?”

“A plan.”

“For?”

“For how I’m gonna fuck you. Eventually, I mean.”

“I leave you for a week and this happens,” you answer, but he’s not fazed. You feel yourself melting. Something you learned about Jeongguk during the preliminary stages of your relationship was that he liked getting things right. And if that meant practicing until he was ready—well. There’s a part in you that fears for the livelihood of your vagina. “Babe. That’s—you know we don’t need some sort of… five-steps-to-success thing.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” He pouts like you have it all wrong. Maybe you do, but it doesn’t sound so convincing to your—to be frank—non-virgin ears. “Good practice.” 

You knew he would say that. “You have something in your noggin already, boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna elaborate?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “What do people normally establish before they start having sex?”

“Well I don’t have lice in my pubic hair if that’s what you wanna know,” you offer.

He scrunches his face. “Don’t—joke about that.”

“Sorry.” Jeongguk gives you an incredulous look because you both know you don’t mean it. “But you really wanna do this here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“Wait—really?” 

You’re starting to think you won’t get any work done for the night. Like all the nights you spend with Jeongguk and you realize the pattern now, so you might as well indulge in him. “Yeah, go pull on all your pornographic roots.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m not into getting tied up, first of all.” You flip a page in your textbook to feign nonchalance as Jeongguk wheezes.

“Stop that!” But he just takes a piece of paper and readies a fist to write. “You’re so crude.”

Now you really can’t focus. “Are you seriously going to write about my sexual preferences?”

“No, I’m writing a detailed observation about how to go about. You know.” He purses a lip in thought. “Navigating the ocean of your pussy and its desires.”

You didn’t think the library would be home to both of your sexual awakenings, but Jeongguk makes it hard to be shy when he’s this motivated. “Weird way of asking me if I’m into watersports.”

“Okay you have to take back asking me about my pornographic roots because it sounds like you’re the freakier one.”

“You like me being freaky?” 

He reddens. “Anyway!” (Silently, you revel in your power to tease.) “I was thinking. Since we can’t hang out too much the next week-ish, that we save all the good stuff for later.”

Good point. “Define good stuff.”

Jeongguk gets smaller. Eyes drilled into yours, he whispers, “Putting my penis inside you.”

“Okay now it’s getting weird.”

He drops his pencil in disbelief. “Only now? Tell me how any of this wasn’t weird in the first place.”

“You’re literally the one who took out a pencil to jot down my sexual preferences, don’t act like you’re innocent.” Now he has the decency to look sheepish. He doesn’t say anything. “Jeongguk. It’s fine to be nervous. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this.”

You might as well be talking to the wall but he nods anyway. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! Just… you don’t owe anyone anything.” Something in you longs for him to understand that. You hate to make him nervous but Jeongguk is so adamant you almost want to wrap him in your arms from the sexually-inclined horde that came in the form of Park Jimin. “Remember that.”

He deflates with a sigh. “Then… can you come over tomorrow?” He’s squirming. “I’m done practice at seven.”

“If my advisor’s nice enough she’ll let me off at six,” you confirm.

Jeongguk takes a notebook out but makes no effort to open it. “And. I missed you. Just. Wanted to get that out there.”

There’s only so much texting can do, you get it. The pit of your stomach simmers with affection for the dumb boy sitting next to you, legs jumping the way they do when he’s nervous. “Love you.” And he smiles. Fuel for your listlessness. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. Especially about the one who just propositioned you with absurdities. But now his pencil is out, and the moment is lost. 

You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later. For now, you settle in the quietude of his presence with yours.

It’s a colder day today.

“Hi!” Taehyung opens the door, bouncing in his pyjamas from the rush of freezing air. “Come, come. Please don’t ask me how I’ve been, I’m so tired of school and that’ll be my answer and I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallow your pleasantries down. He’s a stressed Neuroscience major. “Fair,” you greet instead, toeing your boots off.

“Coming from somewhere?”

“Tutorial evaluation,” you say. Taehyung lets out a low whistle, closes the door behind you. He knows your shoulders are stiff because of Professor Kwon’s watchful gaze. Sitting at the back, ramrod straight with that black clipboard, taking down notes on your performance as a first-time TA. 

She’d let you go after with a smile, though. Let you know you did fine. You’d practically glided to residence when she’d given you the go to leave for the day. 

“I have a question for you,” Taehyung says. He sits on the couch, watches as you take off your snow-soiled scarf and jacket. “Has Jeongguk been more… fidgety lately?”

So he’s noticed too. “Yeah, I’ve—seen it. Why?”

“I don’t know, he sort of just—” Taehyung scoots over when you plop down next to him— “he came out of the room yesterday squealing, then ran around the living room for a bit then just. Went back into his room.”

Oh. So that’s what he was off to do when said he needed to get something after you linked him to your favourite porn accounts on Twitter.

“Maybe it’s just. I don’t know, pre-game jitters,” you lie. Taehyung’s giving you the look. Like he’s not satisfied with your answer and the only way to sate him is if you let him do one thing. “You can ask.”

“Did you fuck him yet?”

No reservations. As expected, because he’s just as nosy as Jimin and the rest of their friends annoyingly concerned with Jeongguk’s hesitation in the bedroom. “Nope.”

“Okay but like—can you fuck him already? I’m gonna be rolling in my grave by the time his penis passes the two-inch border of your personal space.”

You can’t keep in your snort. “Oh my god.”

“Just. We really don’t mean to be so standoffish but he just likes you so much it’s insane. Like I’ll see his phone light up and he will too. He’ll literally—he just glows. It’s kind of creepy actually but like. Cute creepy.”

The rush of praise runs through you. You don’t like to brag, but you really did snag the campus boy crush. You were popular enough with academia, but after the first time Jeongguk posted a picture of you two at the Christmas market, though—the entire student body went ballistic. It was the nascence of a fairy tale; movie romance budding in the grey concrete of campus grounds. 

No one saw it coming. And knowing that the one everyone has their eye on has its eyes on you—it’s a good kind of blow.

“He’s my baby,” you say, and Taehyung coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

There’s a rattling of the door knob. The sight of a ragged Jeongguk stumbles in, gym bag dropped on the floor and he disappears down the hall with the call for a shower and a brief smile your way. “I’ll be five minutes, babe.”

That’s Taehyung’s cue. “Well—I’m off to study group. Take care of him, yeah?”

“You know it.” You offer a fist bump. Taehyung’s knuckles are bony on yours. 

The trek to Jeongguk’s room isn’t unfamiliar. You bounce back on his bed, willing yourself not to close your eyes because you know you’ll just crash. A headache prepares right behind your temple, as imminent as rumbling thunder. Something in you calls for Jeongguk to hurry the fuck up before you succumb to Stress and those horrible, horrible thoughts of due dates.

It doesn’t take that long. There’s the squeak of the shower handle turning off and the black of your closed eyes, the scurrying of an unseen body; the lifting of your shirt for a very heavy weight of a hockey player blowing raspberries into the skin of your stomach. Jeongguk chortles when you nearly break your back trying to dislodge him. “You’re—oh my god—hey stop!”

“Hi,” he says, laugh caught in his breath, “I’m clean.”

“I see that.” He’s in his pyjamas. You let him settle on your side. The lingering heat from his shower makes you clammy but you let him hold you tight. “How was practice?”

“It was nice.” This is code for: I wasn’t yelled at by Yoongi. “I’m excited for our game, I’m feelin’ good. Did you find out if you could make it?”

You were blessed by the gods, because not only were your days coinciding, they were also starting an hour within each other. You’d be at the podium with a flowery speech while Jeongguk tears the ice rink with his pretty skates. And if every award recipient’s was longer than a minute then you might miss the entire game. Two hours past Jeongguk most likely scoring the winning goal; an infinity lost to see your star in action. 

(And seeing Jeongguk play is really attractive.)

You settle with: “I’ll try my best.”

“Okay,” he says. The crown of his head digs into your neck. You feel his lips when he speaks. “How are you holding up?”

“Barely.”

“Did you get your paper done?”

“Barely.”

“So it’s done.”

“Let’s not talk about school,” you dismiss. He leaves the conversation to wither with a suction to your skin. Wet where he lines your neck with quick kisses and you soften into the sheets. “Is this your way of—executing your plan.”

“Hm?”

“You know—your—guide to putting your penis inside me.”

He leans up on his elbow. Unimpressed because his eyebrows are scrunched. “Funny.”

“You love me.”

“And what about it?” His eyes shine the way they do before he tells you he loves you too. “It isn’t even a plan it’s just—a buildup. To when my penis goes inside you. Like a countdown but with orgasms instead.” You snicker. He drags a light hand down your front, settling his palm right over your pussy. “Let me touch you.”

You forget how to breathe for a second. “Yeah—I’m—yeah. Please.”

“Sit up.” Jeongguk plants himself near the wall, not unlike the position he was in when you sucked his dick for the first time. Instead of the afternoon heat, you’re caught under the dying evening rays of sunset: not as hot but still you feel the spark in your belly when Jeongguk lifts your bum to settle you between his legs. His nails play with the button of your pants. “I wanna try something.”

“Sure.” And he helps you wiggle off your clothes, bottom bare to his graces. Doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth meet yours slowly, tasting the day off your tongue, your worries behind his teeth. 

“Anyone ever fingered you so hard you cried?”

“You wanna make me cry?”

“Don’t say it like that.” Jeongguk nips at your lip. “But yeah, I guess.”

You’re wet. This is a fact you come to realize when you feel him spread your legs, feet planting in the mattress in an attempt to ground yourself.  “Okay,” you agree.

His mouth’s busy with yours, lips unyielding like he could do this all day. It’s almost picturesque, the way he has you: head turned over to meet him in his love, arms wrapped around your own. Yours for him to savour and he always tastes good.

He doesn’t wait anymore. Your clit throbs with the passes of his fingers, head falling back to rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder when he dips in the pool of your heat and drags it back up. Groaning when he spins tight circles like you taught him and your hands find his thighs. “Feels—good,” you utter. Already you’re gone but Jeongguk feeds into your pleasure with no qualms for your embarrassment.

“Can I—put in a finger?” He asks shyly, but playing with your slick like he’s known how to make you putty in his hands this whole time.

“Yeah. Please.” You welcome the insistence in your sex with the buck of your hips. Jeongguk curls his middle finger up, the heel of his hand smooth on your clit and you sigh, “Ooh, fuck yeah.”

He kisses your cheek. “Another one?”

“I can take it,” you say, and he has another finger in you, hooking into your nerves. You might moan but Jeongguk turns your head and molds his mouth into yours, stealing your breath with his tongue. He curves in a little too hard and you squeal. “Oh my god, too—much.”

“Sorry.” He adjusts, fingers straight again. “M’gonna go faster, if that’s okay.” You nod, restless, and then he adds: “And you can’t look away from me.”

“Yes please—”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, because the hand not fucking you into oblivion catches your cheeks, locking you to Jeongguk’s gaze. It’s a fucked out one too, and now you notice his hard dick pressed up against your back. 

It’s a storm of thrusting: wet and more wet and now he abruptly pulls out, smears your slick on your clit in a rub so fast you would squeal louder if it weren’t for his lips swallowing your sounds. 

“Oh-h—!”

You burn. Jeongguk enters you again and your cunt feels swollen. Fucking all the deepest and dirtiest parts of you and you take it, yielding to the draw on your tight walls. The squelch gets louder. So do you. 

“Oh yeah—” And you don’t cry but the feeling of him inside is so overwhelming and all that you need and it’s there— “Fuck, y-eah. Gonna cum soon—”

“Give it to me.” Punctuated with a twist in your sex so rough you would have twitched him off but his legs cage you. Jeongguk smiles. “Come on babe—”

“Nnn—ha J-Jeongguk—” You grab his wrist, the one knocking his fingers so good though he doesn’t stop under the tight hold— “B-Baby—”

“I want it, I want it,” he chants into your mouth, like he’s eager for a release conducive to your early death just so he can say he did that. Awful cocky but you can’t dwell on it. “Just cum for me.”

“Fuck—” He makes you look at him when you do, eyes wide to his imploring ones. He has it in his fingers, a climax that wrangles the most obscene noises from your throat. Your hips grind up uncontrollably, clit a pulsing pain but his thumb rubs it all the same. Jeongguk doesn’t stop till you whine, “God, please—I can’t."

“You’re crying.”

“Am not.” But you feel the sting of heat in your eyes. Jeongguk rubs his nose with yours, wrapped in his arms and affection.

“Was it good though?”

“Was it good, he says.” You kiss him with no bite. “Loved it. Best ever.”

Jeongguk lights up, corners of his mouth lifted into a sated grin. “Woo,” he says. You’re about to ask if he wants one rubbed out but he continues speaking. “So plan’s going well if you wanted to know.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” You make a point of getting up with as much force as possible, disturbing the coils the mattress as Jeongguk laughs. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me.”

Your panties are sticky against you. You turn to see him staring at you already. “I love you.”

The room glows in the last few minutes of red, coated darker and darker. But the look Jeongguk gives you—maybe astonishment, maybe longing—casts a glow that blazes within. Like all he wants is for you to be here and you do too. He breaks the silence with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You climb back over him, unable to resist anymore. “So I’ve been told.”

“I mean it though.” He shifts so you’re lying down again, head on his chest. Warm again. “Sorry if I’m—pushing the agenda. And I know I say Jimin’s not getting to me and it’s true but it—makes me want you. All the time.”

You settle for the truth with a kiss to his sternum. “I have no free time after today though.” 

“That’s okay,” Jeongguk whispers. “Just love me now and you can always love me later.”

“I can do that,” you say. 

He lets you dig into his side even further. “Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about school?”

“Mm.” You know it’ll help to air your dirty laundry. But knowing Jeongguk has his own shit to deal with is enough for you to hesitate. “Nothing I—haven’t said before. Just stressed.”

“About your last assignment?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re smart. And for whatever reason, really into baby-making in foreign countries.” Jeongguk groans when you pinch him. “But I know you. And you’ll do well. Also it’s official that you’ll do well because you’re dating someone really good at what they do, and I was just inside your body so technically my energy transferred to you.”

“Very solid process.” 

His breathes warmth into your skin. “Believe me. You’re gonna be fine.”

And it’s not the end of the world, not being able to see him for a bit. You both know this. You hug him tighter to you regardless, like making his skin stick to yours was an actuality. You know he feels it too when his arm locks just a tiny bit harder. An unspoken longing for the mold of your body.

You’ll get there.

It’s been four days since you’ve seen Jeongguk, so Namjoon takes the responsibility of keeping you sane. He books a study room for three hours and meets you with a two cups of coffee and three extra pens just in case they run out while you mark your assignments together. He takes the stack of papers from you with a frown, and you work.

The paper is coming along well. You think you have a good five pages to go, but the amount of hounding Professor Kwon has done is scaring you into another late night-in. More and more marks are due, and Namjoon has his own work to deal with. You hate to burden him with your own but now you’re really feeling the Stress from school.

[6:01 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey what are you doing [6:02 PM] You: i’m doing work :(( [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Poo poo [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m bored [6:03 PM] You: 💩💩 [6:03 PM] You: sorry bout it !!!!!!! [6:04 PM] You: wait how can u be bored ur @ practice ?? if ur just…. doin practice [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On break [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: And I miss you [6:06 PM] You: omg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [6:06 PM] You: my heart

Namjoon’s eyebrows are scrunched. “I can’t tell what this student is saying.”

“Read it out loud.” 

“I will argue that the legalization of crack cocaine will act as a beneficial potential towards the bettering of society. With the advent of legal marijuana usage in Canada—yeah.”

“That’s… an abuse of thesaurus privileges,” you comment.

He hums. “They’re young, let them live.”

Again, Jeongguk texts you.

[6:09 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When are you free [6:10 PM] You: tonight [6:10 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m not 😩😩 What about Wednesday? [6:11 PM] You: i’m only free rn baby :( might have to wait till after friday [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Damn [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I need to go now text me when you’re done k?????? Love you [6:13 PM] You: okay ! 💜

You hear Namjoon snapping at you. “You’re getting distracted.”

“Sorry.” Your pen twitches in your grip. This is your third cup of coffee. “Just—need a goddamn break.

You can sense Namjoon’s nerves grating too. “I get it.” He looks at his watch. “Well. We need to leave in five minutes.”

You graded almost all of your half of assignments. You let yourself breathe a sigh of accomplishment, clearing your work into your bag. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Buy me lunch someday and we’ll call it even,” Namjoon says. He swipes the papers your way to collect. “And by the way—” he takes one last sip of his coffee— “I caught wind that one of the Commissioner-Generals is coming to the ceremony.”

You stare. “From which agency?” 

“No clue. But I just thought you should know.”

Of course he would. The one time you don’t clear your search history and now Namjoon is up your ass helping you find any potential global PhD programs. And it wasn’t unimaginable either, some higher-up coming to see the semester-end awards the department heads organized, and the student chair had a lot of say in it, current one being Kim Namjoon: a lobbyist, a smart guy, and Twitter-sort-of-famous for being really damn loud about inequality.

But they’re probably not recruiting me, you think. Best not to get your hopes up lest it go to a well-deserved head who apparently doesn’t get distracted by the potential of finally squeezing their boyfriend’s dick. 

Namjoon sighs. “Hey, isn’t the ceremony the same day as the game?”

“Yep,” you confirm. For a split second, an image of Jeongguk giggling pops up into your head.

“Do you think you’ll make it?”

You sling your bag over your shoulder, standing outside the door until Namjoon turns off all the lights. “I’m gonna try.”

The hallway to the main entrance of the Humanities wing is quiet. “Speaking of the game. Any intel about your current… predicament?”

“Jimin?”

“Jimin.”

“About Jeongguk?”

“About Jeongguk.”

“Fuck,” you murmur. And you thought he’d be kind enough to keep your secret, but Namjoon is to Jimin like a big is to a little except they’re both too posh to be in a frat. “Not really. And stay out of it.”

“I will,” he says. He opens the door, winter wind as brutal as ever. You think about Jeongguk walking you to the bus stop but he’s probably already back at his dorm. You shiver. “But if I catch you distracted on your phone again I might have to ask.”

You cower into embarrassment.“Sorry.” 

Namjoon waves you off. “Just get home safe, yeah?”

Getting home isn’t that bad; late enough for the absence of the rush hour crowd and you get to sit on the bus the rest of the ride. You all but book it to your place to escape the frost nipping at your cheeks and into the nest of your textbooks. Plans to demolish at least a tiny bit of your not-so-tiny pile of work come to a stand-still when you hear your phone vibrate.

[7:46 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey did u finish yet [7:46 PM] You: fuck sorry forgot to text [7:46 PM] You: yeah i did, i just got home [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: That’s good [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Do you have a lot of work to do tonight?? [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please say no [7:48 PM] You: ….. [7:48 PM] You: why [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The plan [7:50 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Still building [7:50 PM] You: should i be scared [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I know you wouldn’t like it if I didn’t ask, and I’m a good boy, so [7:52 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can I send you a picture of my dick?

A boot hangs limply from your toes from when you were trying to tug it off. Dumbly, you’re gaping. Gaping at this transition from shy Jeongguk to… whatever the fuck this was. The pulsing of your sex betrays your shock.

It’s not like things were changing fast, either. That moment in his bed—after he fucked you with his fingers—was the last time you’d been together. A solid evening of knotted arms and Jeongguk’s breath down your neck. He’d only let you go because your complaints to do homework got too loud for him to sleep properly, and you left him in his room like that: heavy-eyed and full of low murmurs for you to come back.

“You’ll miss me, right?” He’d asked. It sounded so innocent. Looked like it too when he stood next to you as you slipped on your shoes. The answer was easy.

“Duh.”

And it wasn’t like you weren’t affectionate. Sure, gaining the impulse to hug and squeeze him was one you had to work up to, but this came with new relationships, that novelty of being someone else’s: one that Jeongguk had no problems getting used to. Took you a little longer to warm up to his kisses in public but you’re here now. Here, slack-jawed at this distant intimacy. Feet mired in your shock, on the carpet of your front door.

You don’t remember feeling this desperate for Jeongguk before. 

[7:54 PM] You: i [7:54 PM] You: definitely wouldn’t be opposed

You lock your screen fast. Fling your shoes off, slap your jacket onto a hanger. You nearly bust your bedroom down in your hurry to get the fuck on the bed, like the rush of a late night with a stranger but Jeongguk is wholly familiar and isn’t even here to touch you. The ding of your phone is enough to keep you on your toes. You don’t swipe yet because already you’re sweating.

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo and 2 Messages

Should you take your clothes off? Or is he supposed to ask you to do that? Should you ask? What the fuck. This was too much.

You open it. It takes one second to download.

That’s his dick. Jeongguk’s dick, flash on, held up by the tips of his fingers at the base like he knows his angles. The tip is flushed with a wetness you’d lick right up if you were there just to feel the way he shivers under you.

[7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby I’m so hard [7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna kiss you all over

You squeal. 

This was your boyfriend, mister-campus-hotboy, the one literally everyone got hard over and now he’s sending you his own personal dick pics. Maybe you do need to thank the high heavens one day because

What

The

Fuck is going on.

No matter. 

[7:57PM] You: i want u to [7:57PM] You: want u on top of me [7:57PM] You: with ur lips on my neck [7:58PM] You: getting me wet. u always make me. wet

You can’t wait anymore. Your shirt is off, bra tossed, back bare on your sheets. You shimmy out of your pants just as Jeongguk texts back.

[7:58PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fcurck baby [7:59PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can’t stop thinnking abt u [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The way u sounded [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When I was e ating u out [8:01PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: u tasted so good on m y tonguel fucckkkk [8:01PM] You: are u jacking off rn ??? [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yess [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Touch urself [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please?

Panties come off. It’s not a surprise when your finger is soaked in your arousal, teasing your clit and you sigh.

[8:02PM] You: fuck im so wet [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yeah??? [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: What r u thinkgnin about [8:03PM] You: your mouth [8:04PM] You: on my tits [8:04PM] You: my cunt [8:04PM] You: u got me off sooo good [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fuucckckk baby [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re so hot ho ly shit [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Want u so bad [8:06PM] You: how??? [8:06PM] You: u already treat me so good [8:06PM] You: maybe i’’ll take care of u now hm? ?? [8:07PM] You: mymouth on ur dick [8:07PM] You: taste so good [8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Shit

Everything was jumping out of your head so quick your one hand couldn’t keep up. The two fingers on your pussy dipped again, jolts of sweetness straight through your nerves when you rub yourself faster. Focusing on his texts was as easy as trying to stave your orgasm off, which… really wasn’t going too well, pelvis meeting the palm of your hand in a desperate kick.

[8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Take your clothes off [8:09PM] You: past that

It takes him a minute.

[8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Could you send a pic [8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Pleas e

Oh. Okay.

You lean up on your elbow, push your chest against your bicep in the hopes that your cleavage could somewhat be evocative enough in the weak light of your phone. (You notice you forgot to turn the lights on.) The picture cuts off right above your nipples, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t do that just for the possibility of a desperate plea. You lie back down.

Sent.

[8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: urruhguhgkehrdhfg [8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby pleease I want more [8:14PM] You: of what ??? [8:14PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: FUck [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I want you [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On top of me [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Grnding yuor pretty pussy on my dick [8:16PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re wet ik ur wet

Of course he would. He knows your body better than ever before, and you might tease him but the throbbing you’re attending to is too much of a distraction.

[8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can you imagine that [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Teasig my cock into you [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I won’t putnit in yet [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Bc I want u squirming o n top of me [8:18PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ik u don’t beg [8:19PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I would ask u anyway if u want me to sink u down on my cock

Oh my god. The soft sucking sound of your fingers inside your cunt isn’t enough to drag you out of this reverie. It just sinks you deeper into this bliss Jeongguk spells out for you so well. He has you like putty. Your knuckles curve you into a hopeless whimper.

[8:20PM] You: i want that [8:20PM] You: iwa nt that so bad pleas [8:21PM] You: let me feel your dick inside [8:21PM] You: u want that so bad baby [8:21PM] You: to feel me squeezing around u [8:21PM] You: im so tight and wwt [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna hear u  [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ft [8:22PM] You: just call

You don’t think you could handle seeing his dick now. Especially when the build in your pussy is this close to tipping you into a climax he probably wants to hear.

Your phone blares in the quiet. “Baby—”

“I’m so close,” Jeongguk says. He sounds like he’s panting. “Tell me you are too. Please—!” He cuts himself off with a gasp.

“Y-Yeah.” You burn in his desperation, curling into your cunt in the spot you know would have you keeling over. “Ngh—!”

“I wanna hear you. Wanna—hear you when I fuck you. So—good.”

“Oh fuck—”

“You want that too baby?”

You heave. “Yes!”

“Let me hear you cum. Please. I’m so fucking close—”

“Jeongguk!” You sputter, moaning loud, crying in the extremity. It zips through your core, has you reeling, legs shaking as you rub it out so hard you arch from your bed. You barely register Jeongguk’s own completion.

“Fuck I’m cumming—shit!” He groans, long, noisy on the line but the image of his cum onto his hands has your stomach clenching. Clobbered by his own doing and it’s almost endearing how fucked out he sounds. There’s a moment where you hear fumbling, a distant breath; shifts in the mattress probably. “Baby…”

Your phone lights up again. 

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo

You don’t hesitate this time. 

His dick is wet, probably with his spit, but now his entire first is closed around it, dregs of his cum pooling in the suction of his palm against the pink skin. The urge to put your mouth on him is so over-whelming you groan in frustration.

“Want it in my mouth,” you say.

“You’ll make me hard again,” Jeongguk murmurs with a laugh.

It’s just past 8:30. “So. What got you so hard that had you begging for me over the phone?”

“Hm.” You move until you’re under the covers. A makeshift warmth because you don’t have Jeongguk to cuddle you for post-sex softness. “I don’t know. Just missed you. Again. Sorry if you had work to do.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah I’m not.” You think you hear him in the washroom. The vent is loud. “Made a mess.”

“Not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda was. Hoping for more nipple next time.”

“Now you’re asking for too much,” you sigh. There’s a sleepy pull in your head, dragging you through the waves of feelings that currently bombard your heart. “I miss you too. Hope you’re not working too hard.”

“I have a bruise on my ass! Oh my god I forgot to tell you. But Hoseok checked me so hard for no fucking reason and—boom. Landed right on my booty.”

You coo. “Aw. Want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes please, it’s on my fatter butt-cheek I think.”

It dies down again. “So what stage are we at for your build-up?”

“Close to the finale.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. There’s only three days left till your prospective hells come to a head. Then it’s back to loving Jeongguk but closer to him this time, not through the cracked screen of your phone. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk says. “Guess—I should leave you to your work?”

As much as you want to say no, the pile of essays on your desk is calling for your ass to get moving. It sends a quick ripple of nervous tension down your spine but the sooner you get it done the sooner it is to texting Jeongguk again. You know he’s impatient too. “Yeah. Might stay up.”

“Not too late, okay? You’re almost there. And make that tea I bought you, it’s supposed to help with your headaches.”

You’ll cry. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Text me when you’re gonna sleep.”

You’re probably ovulating because a tear really does slip over your cheek. The stickiness between your thighs rubs your skin when you finally get up, avoiding the offensive stack of work in your periphery when the hints of a new headache start to come up. 

Jeongguk probably knew you were heading straight into another painful night of working. There’s a tin of loose leaf tea sitting patiently for you in your cupboard. And maybe taking on the teaching position wasn’t such a good idea, but then again, dates where everything loomed over you were inevitable. School’s a bitch. But you have an attractive boy waiting for you to finish, and that’s what prompts you to face the music. One more time.

Three more nights. 

The first night is actually okay. You get a page and half done, and Namjoon checks in with a text in the evening to make sure you aren’t pulling your teeth out. Jeongguk has practice the whole day. 

During the second night, you forget to save one of the articles you cited, and you spend a frantic hour searching through all your sources to trace it back. It’s a painful process and you almost cry, but you text Jeongguk and he sends you a selfie of him sending you a thumbs up. Your phone lags trying to scroll through the gigantic box of of hearts he texts you. You find the article. It’s good.

Third night and you’re about ready to give up. Jeongguk and Namjoon are both out of commission because apparently the universe hates all of you and you’re all busy with your respective work. But you have a page to conquer, and the onus is on you to show up with nice skin tomorrow because the department likes to take pictures to post online. The tea Jeongguk got you steams as you type diligently.

One

More

Word

Andit’sdone.

“Oh god,” you whisper to yourself. You scroll through your paper, making sure all your citations are right. Page numbers there. No excessive use of the first-person, your professor’s name spelt correctly. Formatted correctly.

It’s done.

You bask in the harsh light of your desk lamp, weight lifted off your shoulders the instant you save your document to submit online.

The assignment page loads, and you hit the button.

The line of your phone rings twice.

“Hello?” Jeongguk groans. It’s three in the morning. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I FINISHED I SUBMITTED IT IT’S IN!” You yell. A genuine rise in your throat that has Jeongguk whooping with as much energy as his sleep-ridden voice can allow on the other side of the line.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I wanna hop on your dick right now.”

Jeongguk just snickers. Your eyebrows raise, because for sure he would’ve been choking. But maybe it’s because he’s tired. “Don’t tempt me into a boner, it’s too early for this.”

“Fuck—sorry. You have your game. Okay I’ll hang up. I’m gonna—sleep. Try to. Okay I love you! Sorry bye!”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You knock out the second your light is off and your head hits the pillow.

You asked Namjoon earlier in the day to call you awake because your ringtone is more annoying than your alarm. And even though the ceremony is later in the evening, you’re scared that you’ll sleep the entire day away. 

Jeongguk texts you before you’re up. A congratulatory message, and another saying that he’ll be at practice the whole day so he’ll try to text you at lunch. But the afternoon sun sees no text from him and you know it’s because he’s sweating his balls off on the hockey rink. Stubborn like you know he is but now you miss him again. 

One thing that sticks in your head the rest of the day: the thought of it being over. Because once you get your awards and hopefully get to see the end of the game, you get Jeongguk to yourself again. Two weeks of agonizing to get to this point all but crashes into your loins to spark a frighteningly hot fire, and now, once again, you’re left to fantasize about Jeongguk’s dick. You force yourself not to dwell on it too much, makeup a risk to your fidgeting and if the reason why you have an ugly picture up online is because you were longing for dick then—well. 

It’s Namjoon who greets you when you get to the conference hall downtown.

“You look good,” is all he says. 

You stick your tongue out at him. You had to redo your lipstick twice. “Shut up.”

He leads you to where he was sitting: the massive table stuck in the middle with the microphones sticking up along the perimeter. Maplewood and entirely unfitting for the green carpet, though Namjoon beats you before you can say anything mean. “If you look up front, that’s the Commissioner-General I was talking about.”

You look. She’s a petite woman, scarily thin, wearing a bright scarf. “Yoon Soomin,” you recognize.

“Correct.”

“Namjoon!” You hit his shoulder, and he winces with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Because I knew you’d get stressed!”

Well he’s goddamn right you’re stressed now. Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of one of the programs you had your eyes on for the past year now. Applications are open next week. You’ve had yours done for a solid six months, and now the head of the program is right here. In the flesh. Watching you about to get your award.

The chatter of all the other students is drowned out when the program head gets up for the commencement speech. “Good evening everyone. My name is Bae Joohyun. Thank you—”

Ding.

Namjoon kicks your shin. You silence your phone. It’s Jeongguk.

[7:39PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hi babe hope u had a good day!!! Sorry I got distracted [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I know ur gna win like fifty awards so advanced congrats!!!!!!! Proud of ur big brain [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Love you [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I hope you make it later pls try ur hardest but if u can’t it’s okay but like I would really appreciate if you. Came [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: OJO [7:42PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Heh Taehyung said that looks like me 

There’s clapping. You don’t know why everyone’s clapping but you do it too.

[7:42PM] You: pls don’t break any limbs while i am here i won’t be fast enough [7:42PM] You: love u. play smart not hard. i’ll be there for ur final goal 🤪 [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Anything for my scholar [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You r so cute please come soon [7:44PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I have to go now I LOVE You

“I will now invite the Student Chair Kim Namjoon forward to deliver a speech,” Professor Bae says.

No last text to Jeongguk because now you join the applause once more. Namjoon gets up with practiced ease, staggered steps of confidence because if anyone is going to get a PhD first, it’s him. And you know he applied for the program too.

It starts simple: “Thank you for coming today.” A celebratory gathering, gratitude for everyone’s hard work and commitment. A call for everyone to continue being ambassadors for the Humanities. Nothing you haven’t heard before. 

“I would also like to announce that the department has decided to award a special recipient tonight for their academic work and contribution to graduate research,” Namjoon continues. “The award will be presented by Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of the Anthropology for the Humanities Global Network. Please give your warmest applause to Doctor Yoon.”

Oh god. Your literal idol because she was just as interested in babies as you were and Jeongguk would for sure be goading you into a frenzy because of your shaking. But you clap as normally as normal clapping goes, and Doctor Yoon takes the mic.

“I’ll just head straight into it,” she says with a pretty smile. You catch Namjoon looking at you. He raises an amused eyebrow, and now you’re suspicious. “It is an honour to call upon ___, for their recent submission of pronatalist work based in Europe for the research study funded by the Global Network.” That’s—you. That’s you, and these are your legs moving on their own accord to the beat of the eager applause. You don’t look at Namjoon but you can hear him, because he’s clapping the loudest. “___ has been recognized before: for an outstanding submission in undergraduate research on cultural genocide, as well as active participation in the Anthropological department.”

Yoon Soomin extends a hand to you, as well as a pretty certificate gilded with bold letters in the form of your name. Again: all offered by Yoon Soomin. Again, you are shaking. 

“T—hank you,” you stammer, and her hand is soft in yours and you really just might cry but it’s probably because you’re exhausted. You’d slept for a solid ten hours but no amount of rest would have ever prepared you for her pretty voice congratulating you again. “I—It’s an honour.”

“Picture time,” Namjoon interrupts. He’s got his phone up. “Smile!”

“Congratulations again,” Doctor Yoon says. She grins like she knows something too, and the rest of the ceremony is static in your ears.

Like always, it’s repetition. A name called, award presented. Your name is exhausted three more times, and you’d cower under the attention but you worked too goddamn hard not get to this point. You think of Jeongguk, probably three to none even though it’s only been half an hour into the game. You and Namjoon are practically trembling when Professor Bae dismisses everyone.

Your jacket is on, purse about to swing over your shoulder when someone comes up to you.

“Hello.” Doctor Yoon again. “Oh—are you in a hurry?”

“Not at all,” you rush out. You can feel Namjoon vibrating too. “I—Thank you so much for presenting the award.”

“It was my pleasure. The overseas program application opens next week,” she advises, and you really might scream but you will yourself to stillness. “We don’t know where it’s based yet, but I hope that doesn’t discourage you from submitting your application.”

“Oh she’s been interested for years,” Namjoon offers. You elbow him. Doctor Yoon laughs. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Keep up the good work!”

You all but skirt around her with a quick thank you again! and make a mad dash out the building and to the underground train because Namjoon sucks and can’t drive on highways yet. “Good thing you didn’t wear heels because you’re so fucking slow.”

“Shut up,” you growl. The people on the sidewalk offer no space for you to slither through, and you grind you teeth with impatience. “And don’t give me shit when I beat you four to one.”

“Not everyone’s into babies like you are, genius.” You reach the closest subway entrance, a seedy staircase down into the dirty cement and your fare is paid with a drop of a coin; running for the departing train and you make it by the wisp of your hair. You sigh into an empty seat, Namjoon right next to you. “Time.”

It’s nearing 9:00. “Oh my god it’s almost done.”

“You’ll make it,” Namjoon says. The jostling ride is another twenty minutes, and you know it’s cutting it short but you promised Jeongguk. He’s so close. You’re out of breath. “So you’re free now, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“You worked hard.”

You scrunch your face in embarrassment. “Thanks Joonie.”

“I mean it,” he says. “No one deserves this more than you. Yeah? Cut yourself some slack.”

“I know—it’s just—I couldn’t be there for Jeongguk as much as I could have—” And it’s all coming out now. There’s only one other person on this cart other than Namjoon so you let yourself have the moment, the breakdown. The awfulness of preoccupation and missing your boyfriend and too much work. You don’t want to cry but the screech of the metal tracks makes it easier to hide. “‘M so fucking tired.”

Namjoon pats your back when you heave. “Two more stops. Then you can curse the gods all you want.”

Good incentive, because once the doors slide open on your stop you book it up the escalator as fast as your fatigue can allow. Luckily campus is right around the corner, cars taking up all the space on the road. Probably all here for the final match of the year, your university against the one a city over, and the cheers are so loud you hear it from the two sidewalks over. “Let’s go let’s go!”

And you and Namjoon run again, down to the set of doors of the arena nestled into the corner of your school. The doors are heavyset but you yank them like you’ll die if you aren’t inside within the next twenty seconds, and it’s only now that you feel the buzz of your phone from a text.

[8:58 PM] Jimin Bimin: I’m on the east side with taehyung, third from the bottom bleacher, mostly in the middle. hurry!!!!!!

Namjoon’s no doubt just following the beeline you make because even you can’t feel where your legs are taking you. All you know is the rush of school pride and the deafening yells of the crowd, lost bits of popcorn on the floor scrunching against your shoes as you search for Jimin. You see Taehyung first: warpaint on his face and he waves you over quickly, scooting over with a pull on Jimin to make room for Namjoon too.

“You made it!” Jimin screams and it still sounds like a squeak with the roar of the people everywhere.

But you ignore this, laser-beaming the rink for that familiar 97. You catch Jeongguk closely following the puck, stick clenched tightly in his fists, legs quick in their glide as the offence. You feel everyone’s bated breath, hands grabbing Jimin’s arm—the other team’s members flying past Jeongguk, the raise of the wood, a slap to the puck—

The red blares. The crowd goes wild. 

“HE WON!” Jimin screams and so do you, the wave of excitement passing over you like fairy dust and now everyone’s cheering. You have no idea what went on. But now all the boys off the rink jump over the barrier to grab Jeongguk in a hard throttle, arms tangled around each other, chant lost on your ears but they look so happy. 

Somehow, a body breaks away from the huddle, and now they’re skating in your direction. 

Jeongguk waves. You smile. A wave back, and now you have each other again.

You wait outside the building, watching as the throngs disperse. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin already said their goodbyes, last felicitations from them both and a promise for lunch from you somehow gets squeezed from the conversation too. The brick is hard against your back.

[9:30PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: WHERE ARE YOU [9:30PM] You: i’m outside already!!

A door bursts open. There’s an inhale, then you turn your head. Jeongguk drops his bag the second you charge for him, arms ready for your attack as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, arms caught on his neck. You think you hear someone gasp but it’s all lost on you now. “Oh my god I love you,” he breathes, and you cry. “Babe—”

“I watched you,” you sniffle, and you frown when he laughs. “Watched you win.”

“I’m glad.”

You kiss him. “Missed you.”

Jeongguk looks like he might cry too. “Mine again?”

“Yours again.” And you mean it. 

“I would—I would invite you over to the after-party but I’m sleepy,” he says in between presses of his mouth, “and I ran out of contact solution the other day so I can’t invite you over and also Taehyung’s probably sleeping right now.”

“Then you come over.” You melt into his tongue, his feet staggering in your grind and he bites your lip.

“R-Really?” 

“Yeah, actually get some shut-eye.” He lets you off when you wriggle your ass against his hands, dragging him to the bus stop before he can put them back against your jeans or else you might really fuck him this time. “Because Taehyung snores too loud anyway.”

The ride to your apartment totals eight minutes because it’s late, and living on the edge of the suburbs means no one’s up this late anyhow. Jeongguk hadn’t even let you find a seat, balancing through red lights on his feet just to fly out the door when you’d reached your stop. You’ve already done too much running today but Jeongguk still rushes you up to your floor, and before you can get the key to your door he has you pressed up on it instead.

“Want you,” he says. Hard against your throat like he means it.

“God—let me—open my door and you have me,” you say through your teeth, gritted because the hallways echo and now Jeongguk has his thigh pressed up against you. “Babe let go—”

He does, but only with a lingering kiss promised by your burning attraction. You don’t fumble with the lock but you do stumble in from how quick you open the door, slamming shut in your haste and you hear his duffel bag meet the ground and now your back meets the hard metal again. “You have to stop shoving me into this thing oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. He’s kissing you again. Lifts you up with no warning and you yelp into his curious mouth, dick grinding into the rough of your pants. “Fuck I—”

“Did—you want to—”

“No—wait yes, yes—I just—” He doesn’t let up. You can feel his cock straining against his sweats, flimsy layers you could just shove down but his hips are glued to your own. “I can’t—cum. Right now. Too much. Wind—wound up.”

Your tailbone is starting to dig into the door. “Then let me down and let’s just—sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. One last kiss, nose meeting yours. “Still on my hockey grind.”

“Ew,” you snort. “Also don’t wear your pants to bed.”

“Oh.” He shoves his shoes off when you do. 

“I don’t like it when people wear their outside clothes on my sheets.”

“Oh.”

“But it’d be nice to wake up to your dick on my ass,” you add. Jeongguk makes a strangled noise, then carries you to bed.

“I’ll brush my teeth tomorrow,” is the last thing you remember him saying. 

The morning rushes in too soon. Your curtains aren’t closed and Jeongguk hogs the blanket, sprawled on your side of the bed no less. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to spoon but at least his cock is warm with something just as soft as your ass.

You settle in the calm. Jeongguk isn’t one to snore but his soft breaths are just as jarring, disbelief apparent when you realize this is the first time he’s ever slept-over at your place. As convenient as it is to live somewhere that only needed one bus ride, you’re on campus all the time; making sense meant taking up space in his res instead. But now the lump he occupies in your bed is something you think you could get used to.

(Even if he hogs the blanket.)

You’re still in your clothes from last night, but at least you had the decency to shuck off your jeans. And you’d gotten up well past Jeongguk-sleeping-hours to take off your makeup because it took you forever to pry his ridiculously strong arm off around you. You get up with a kiss to his mane of bedhead and a silent reminder to grab an extra toothbrush.

The next plan to execute on your list after washing the tired off: breakfast. And you know you don’t have eggs but you open the fridge like you’ll see the carton sitting there anyway.

You’re standing, coming to a blank for what feels like forever. You think briefly about ordering in, then remember the guilt of just grabbing groceries instead. The internal battle is cut short when you hear the creak of your bed, a long groan. Then, footsteps.

“You look sad,” Jeongguk croaks two seconds later.

You frown for effect. “I want eggs. And why are you up.”

“Come here, egghead.” Jeongguk is groggy. The sexy kind too, because his voice is a tenor that scratches the needier part in you, the one telling you to bury your face in his chest and you do just that. “I felt you move. Sorry I couldn’t wake you up with my dick against your butt.”

“S’ok. And go shower because you’re stinky.”

He lets you go. “Good morning,” he says for the first time. A domesticity you feel lightheaded from. “You should shower with me.”

“Unless you’re scared of detachable shower heads I think you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be cocky,” he whines. “And you’re dirty too, you sweat a lot just like I do.”

That’s true. “But it’s not even a hair washing day.”

“Why are you resisting me, woman.” He brings two hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I’ll tickle you.”

“You will not—”

“I will tickle you and if you don’t shower with me I will cry.”

You huff. “Fine.” He leads you down the hall to the bathroom, satisfied in his quick win, back flexing when he takes his shirt off. “And I’m the cocky one.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. You know he’s baiting but you don’t want to resist him anymore. “You need to turn the shower on because I don’t know how to.”

Getting naked is a different kind of intimate when you’re not in the bedroom. You know this because Jeongguk can’t even look your way when you’ve stripped, but you’re shivering like he’s staring.  You step into the tub before he can back out. He doesn’t come in till the water’s running.

You like it hot. Jeongguk—not so much by the looks of his hesitation, so you compromise with a slight shift of the knob and a switch in place so he’s under the pelt of water. He’s all hard muscle under your hands. “Hope you like cherry blossom.”

He doesn’t say anything. Grabbing the loofah you spurt your pink soap, lathering it on his chest first. Jeongguk just stares. “I really missed you,” he says.

You nod. Nodding fast to keep yourself from thinking too hard because then you might start getting soft. “Me too,” you croak out. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Jeongguk just brushes his lips against yours in answer. You’ve just reached over his shoulders to get the back of his neck but he forces you back into the tiles, back inundated with cold hardness and there’s no room for complaint when your tits press against Jeongguk’s skin like this. He groans a desperate sound into your pliant mouth. “I—I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You pause. “For what?”

“I don’t—know—I—just having you here again. Makes me want to do everything.”

You are enveloped in mist and so much longing. “Let me finish then we’ll—go back.” You don’t know if you want to focus southward because one look at his dick and you’ll fall to your knees. “Turn around.”

He does. The glass of the divider fogs up in your intimacy. You give a half-hearted scrub along his skin, focusing on the grime you can’t see. Can’t think.

“Okay you know—I think we’re good,” you say, voice tight.

“Come here.” Jeongguk spins to find you again, a hard kiss into you and you feel his dick press up against your stomach. “Towels.”

“Turn off the shower.” You push open the door, shaking legs dripping onto the floor as you scramble to wrap yourself in warmth other than Jeongguk. He grabs the other one, quick passes over his skin before he drops it to the floor and nearly bowls you over to get you out into the bed room.

It’s bright. Jeongguk reads your mind. “Can I—shut the blinds?”

“Please.”

He goes to twist the plastic while you dry off the last remnants of water clinging to your skin, and before you know it Jeongguk has you lain flat across the tangled blankets, legs dangling from the side of the bed. “God I tried really hard to have a normal morning with you but I—just can’t anymore.” He kneels over you. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

You could go on about how quick the one-eighty was. From your thoughts about breakfast to this absolutely insatiable need for your boyfriend to insert whatever valid body part he could use into your pussy. But you and Jeongguk are never conventional, and going too fast is an illusion now. 

You have each other again, and no one’s counting the seconds anymore.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask.

“Yes,” he decides, and he unwraps the towel you’d clung onto before pressing downwards and caving into your lips. “I—have never wanted you so goddamn bad in my life, oh my god.”

“Good,” you choke on your breath because Jeongguk slips down your throat with his tongue and a pucker of his lips. “Ah—!”

A bloom of your slick runs through your cunt when he sucks hard on your skin, thumbs a shy presence on your breasts but they peak under the pressure. “You have the cutest tits,” he says. 

“Shut up.” You flare with embarrassment. “You can—be more rough.”

Jeongguk twists your nipples and you pant. “Like that?”

“Suck on them too. Make it—hurt.” His eyes flutter, determined in your command. Mouth a hot suction, laving you with his spit. His teeth graze in a bite and you moan. “Fuck—yeah. That’s so good…”

He stays like this: feeding into your sounds with sloppy grips of his tongue, suckling till your tits pop out his mouth and your hands find the nape of his neck in desperation. “Ugh—please—”

Jeongguk slurps on a nipple. “Get up there.”

You scramble up the bed, comfortably nestled in the centre and Jeongguk’s fingers go to spread your pussy,   cheeks heating in the sound of wet. He sighs.

“Do you want to cum now?”

You dip your head. “Please.”

He settles on his stomach, diving in to latch onto your clit, sucking that has your head thrown back further with every inch he covers with the jerk of his tongue. Honed in on the dangerous tip that could have you teetering over in a second and your hips pull back, but his hands take your bucking and locks you down to his attention. Too much so and now you wail. “Oh my g—od.”

Curses caught in the grit of your teeth because now he licks the stretch of your cunt like he’s thirsty. Jeongguk’s good at making you want more when you don’t know what means. “Gonna—use a finger.”

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He curls in and up, a sweet crevice touched. Eyes rolling back as you puff. “Holy fu-uck yeah, finger it.”

“Wanna beg?” He suggests. Challenging.

“You’re asking me to?”

“I’m begging you to,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Then—” you settle up on your elbows, watching the minute thrusts into your cunt like a lazy cartoon— “please use another finger. And—make me cry this time.”

His eyes bulge in your confidence. Pulls out; now there’s two hard intrusions and it digs into a sweeter part inside, a touch that has you keening right into the pillow, drool smearing on the sheet. Clit sitting pretty on his wet tongue and you’d let him have it all day if he asked. Then Jeongguk thrusts in a drill so hard you vibrate. “O-O-Oh my fuuuuuuck—”

He curves into your loudness. “So fucking sexy,” he praises, rushing right through you and onto his fingers. “So wet—”

“Ugh—!” Your sobbing isn’t a tearful one but the scratch in your throat is smarting. Jeongguk swipes right over your nub. Leans up, fingers still a consistent presence and now his tongue is teasing yours, a muscle spasm more than anything and you can’t fucking breathe.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

“You—really?”

“I might cum.” Oh. He looks at you, eyes a wonder of pleasured agony. Probably because he’d been grinding into the sheets like last time but now you’re even more gone.

“Okay,” you gulp, and Jeongguk rolls over. Knees above his shoulders, using his elbows to slide along the mattress till you’re settled comfortably over his eager mouth. “You okay?”

“Fuck yeah.” He pulls on your thighs until his neck doesn’t strain up anymore, a stretch you can ignore if only to feel the traction of his rough love on your sensitivity. “This is—so hot.”

“Are you—pulling on pornographic roots right now?”

He hums into a suction. “Yeah.”

“What else have you thought about?” You can’t see his entire face from your view, but his forehead is scrunched. Thinking hard for you.

“Nothing—crazy,” he says. He kisses your leaking cunt. “Always wanna make you feel good. But it’d be hot if I choked you, yeah.”

“Oh—”

“Whatever you like,” Jeongguk decides. “I like whatever you like.”

“I would like it if you made me cry,” you contend.

He doesn’t say anything else. Jeongguk squeezes your ass, neck straining to get you dribbling on the tip of his tongue, pleasure pulled from the bottom of your stomach into moaning so loud you’re worried for the thinness of your walls. “Oh my god I’m close—don’t stop—”

Your pussy grinds right into it. His fingers are lax on your skin like he’s given up if it means you feed into your own demise. And you do: grating all your nerves from Jeongguk’s insistence into your sex and your hands tangle into his hair. “Oh fuck I’m—Jeongguk—!”

The feeling settles heavy in your pussy. Taken with a vehemence you’d praise forever and Jeongguk is nothing but passionate, a power translated through all his work and one he insists on when he paints your cunt like it’s his favourite thing to do. His hands tighten their grip on your ass, nearly falling over when his tongue slides like that—

“I’m cumming—oh my god I’m—fuck!”

Your eyes sting. It bursts—starting on Jeongguk’s tongue and spreading so fast you can’t tell up from down.  Moans wrenched from your chest and you can’t catch your breath, even when you push yourself off from Jeongguk because you can’t stop riding into it. “Ah—oh fuck.” You’re sniffling.

“Babe wait did I actually make you cry?”

“Yes you idiot, come here.” And Jeongguk crawls over you, kiss-ready, lips wet on yours. “Do you—is it—are you okay? Do you wanna try now?”

“Sure,” he says. “I just—might not last too long.”

“We take it slow,” you say. He nods. “Got condoms?”

Jeongguk looks sheepish but he nods again. “Please don’t ask me why I have them on me.”

“I’m asking why you have them on you.”

He groans. “Let me just—get them from my bag.” And he runs, hard penis and all, outside to the bag he’d left outside in your haste to the bed. He’s not even gone for two seconds before he has the string of foil in his hand. “Remember there was a party last night? Taehyung gave them to me just in case—you know. Something happened.”

“Good friend. Do you—have lube too?” 

Jeongguk pales. “No.”

“Come here,” you order instead, because you’re ridiculously wet anyhow. He gets closer, lying down when you push his chest down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just wanna kiss you.”

He lets you. You stay in this moment, a precursor to a new era if you were being dramatic about it. But having him so soft and yielding under you like this makes you want to enjoy it, bit by bit. “I love you,” he says.

You mold into him. “I love you too.” Reaching over for one of the foils, you tear it as Jeongguk stares with a still chest. The condom rolls easily. “Okay?”

“Yep.”

Then you sit on top of him, your own breath caught in the butterflies jumbled in your stomach, a flit when his hands come to rest on your thighs. Nerves tangling with his and you feel the low tremors in his body. Your pussy glides along his dick lying pretty on his stomach. You tangle your hands with his. “Don’t be nervous,” you whisper.

Jeongguk gulps. “Just—kiss me again.”

You lean back down, his hands tightening yours when you meet him again. “Are you okay?”

His eyes are closed. “Yes—yes. You can put it in. Please.”

“Just—say the word and I’ll stop.”

He nods.

There’s a lump in your throat. You want it to be good for him. The griping all his friends did had done a great deal for your sex life, yeah. But the point of his comfort was crossed so many times you feared he’d back out by this time. And now he waits: waits for your go, on your own time, because the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you too. You know it in his attention, his quiet insistence on making you cum first. His patience for you to come back to him. Waiting so that you could get comfortable before he did, because he’s only ever comfortable when you are. 

You hold the base of his dick, tip straight below your core, positioned at the height of both your breaths.

You sink down.

It’s a scarcity, to feel this good from the get-go. A prodding that pinches a little stretches you right, Jeongguk’s length gloved in your heat, so much heat because he groans. “Oh my god.”

“Is that—okay?”

“Yes—”

His hands find your hips when your knees drop down even further. Slow, slow, slow; so wet because he makes you feel it—until you bottom out. Jeongguk shivers. “Tell me—when I can move.”

You watch his eyebrows scrunch up, teeth gritting when you shift to ease the weight on your legs. “I’m good. I’m good, please move, fuck.”

You do. You pick up to an easy pace, not straining yourself but enough for the tip of his dick to hit a spot in your gut that has you cooing. Your hands find his chest. “Ooh—fuck yeah.”

“Is it good—for you?” Jeongguk pants, bucking his hips when he watches your tits bounce. 

“Yeah. Feels so good…” You trail off, getting used to the feel of something so much thicker than his fingers. A burn you can’t say you haven’t missed, teasing your insides and you squeeze.

“Baby—that—fuck—” He’s sweating. His forehead shines, hair caught on his skin. His chest is a flushed, wet where your palms meet him because you’re getting a little winded now. But the little grunts he lets out every time you bounce is enough to keep you going. 

“Do you think—you can cum like this?”

His grin is sheepish. “N-No.”

You opt for a closer grind then. “How do you want me?”

“Your back,” he says, hesitant. “Let me—fuck you from the edge of the bed.”

You can do that. You lift up till his dick lies wet on his belly, sheets a mess under your bum when you let Jeongguk get up to move you the way he wants. He stands, one knee on the mattress as he spreads your legs, pussy served like it’s his to take. Makes a grab for his dick; jostles around a bit on your clit to see your hole tighten, stomach clenched. 

He presses in slow just to see you shiver. In control of your pleasure again, and you sigh into the sheets. 

“Oh my god.” You grasp the blankets, elbows strong to watch what you now know is the visual of Jeongguk fucking you. A little stilted in his rhythm, but only because he’s getting used to the feel of your pussy like this. 

You don’t care for the semantics of proper fucking. As long as his hips meet your ass in the beat you can only call nasty. The squelch of your arousal is loud. “Fuck—baby…”

“Yeah—feels so good.” Buried deep in your walls and maybe you could learn the ridges of his dick like this: lain here for him to use, cunt fit only for his pleasure. A position you’d gladly take everyday from now on because fuck if this isn’t heavenly. 

You know he feels it too when his chest picks up in his panting, dick a piston now and you mewl. 

“Yeah—faster, baby—like that—!”

“Shit—” Smearing your walls with your own slick, made for him to dirty. A push so vigorous you would be sliding if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s tight hands on you, and all you can do is take it. “Babe I’m close—”

And he bends down, kissing you with a pant into your mouth because he’s getting spent, efforts all going into your pleasure. He still thrusts. “Cum. Cum when you can, fuck.”

“What about—”

You shut him up with another press of your lips. “I’m fine.”

He leaves it at that. Jeongguk leans up again, adjusting one more time till he’s got both knees on the bed, cock a heady presence inside your sex and he gives it hard now. You’re trying not to squeeze so hard around him but it’s getting difficult; seeing him so focused, his eyes wild, sweat dripping on his shoulders. Sweltering in your heat and love and novelties—defiling him but in the best way possible. “I love you,” he chokes. “Oh my god I might—”

“Give it to me,” you whisper.

He does. Your pussy is still in Jeongguk’s indulgence, his whines escalating until he groans out: “I’m cumming—”

Jeongguk slams into you, a final push for your core and he croons into your neck. Streams of his pleasure in the form of a long sigh, his pulses inside. And maybe you’re dumb but you’re laughing and crying again, arms wrapping around his neck, swaying him back and forth as he calms down. 

“How was that?” You ask.

He’s crying, too. You wipe his under-eye when he takes one more kiss. “Best ever,” he says. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You don’t need to—” But his thumb is already on your clit, still wet from his doing and you force your hips to stillness— “Jeongguk no—”

“I wanna feel you cum around my dick,” he says, and the plea is enough for you to tighten and cry even more. It hurts, a nudge of pain but it’s already beginning to spread into pleasure—

“Jeongguk—”

You cum into his kiss, walls clenching into an orgasm so sweet your toes tingle. A ripple of pleasure running through all of you and he moans like he feels it too. 

Out of breath. It’s hot under his skin.

“So. Who do we tell first?”

Jeongguk laughs. “Maybe we can decide over breakfast.”

And you feel something, better than orgasmic bliss, the pleasure of a tryst: the simplicity of being in love. Jeongguk makes you feel like you can do anything.

“Eggs?” You ask.

His tongue is sweet. “Eggs.”

[collecting-stories]

Wisdom Tooth - Kiara Carrera

Request: hi there! can i request a kiara x reader where reader has to get her wisdom teeth taken out and she asks kiara to come along with her and the others come along too bc they know you like kiara. after it’s done you’re very clingy to kiara and keep complimenting her and confess that you like her ? thank you !

A/N: Fun fact, I have 3 out of 4 wisdom teeth still but I had to lose a molar when I got the one removed because it was impacted. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your mom had scheduled your appointment for after school, it was a half day and she figured you could walk across campus to the dentist’s office to get your wisdom teeth pulled before winter break. The upper right tooth was impacted, evidenced by the increasing amount of pain you were constantly in and they had decided to go ahead and pull all of them while they were pulling that one.  

“Don’t they like, dose you up with painkillers?” John B asked as the four of you cut across the parking lot after school. The only disadvantage of Kiara not going to the same school as you anymore was that you always had to wait for her to drive down from the Eight. Even now as you walked with John B, JJ, and Pope (who had invited themselves along to your dentist’s appointment for some unknown reason) you were looking for Kiara’s subaru.  

“I wanna be dosed up with painkillers.” JJ said, followed almost immediately by a groan as Pope smacked him in the chest.  

“I seriously don’t think you guys are allowed in.” You said, stopping at the front door of the house that had been refashioned into a dentist’s practice.  

“Why? Kiara’s coming.” JJ argued, glancing over as the green subaru pulled into a parking spot, “why does she get to go in and not us?”

“Is it because you love her more than us?” Pope asked, grinning when you groaned and rolled your eyes.  

“It’s because she won’t be a total dick to me when I’m all doped up.” You replied.  

“We’ll be saints!” John B swore, placing a hand over his heart. Pope and JJ quickly mirrored his stance. “Honest, we’ll sit in the waiting room and be silent.”

“You’d better.”

“What are you guys doing?” Kiara asked, coming up the front steps behind the four of you.  

JJ turned around to face her, “going inside, what are you doing?”

You didn’t say anything, opening the door and going in, everyone else following behind you. The living room had been converted to a waiting area with a fish tank and a few different activities for kids to stay occupied. You went to the front desk window to check in while JJ, Pope, and John B went over to the coloring table, sitting around on kid sized chairs as they divided up coloring pages. Kiara grabbed a chair and sat down, away enough that she could pretend the people she just walked through the door with were complete strangers and not her actual friends.  

“Okay,” you fell into the seat next to her, knee bobbing as you took a deep breath. You hated needles and surgery and anything that meant a trip to the doctor. Especially when that doctor was a dentist. It didn’t matter that your tooth hurt so bad that even now you were holding an ice pack that you’d nabbed from the school nurse against your cheek. You hated dentists, “she said they’ll call me when it’s my turn.”

“Well we’re the only ones in here so I can’t imagine that’ll take too long.” Kiara replied, reaching over to put a hand on your knee, “it’ll be okay, I’m right here.”

“I’m just freaking out.” You replied, glancing over to JJ, Pope, and John B, all huddled over coloring pages with crayons spilled out in the middle of the table, “I wish I could be that chill.”

“How’s your tooth feeling?” She asked, glancing their way before turning to you again, sympathetic smile on her face. She’d been the first one to realize that there was something wrong with your tooth.  

“Like it’s trying to murder me.” You replied, slumping over slightly in the chair. Kiara pouted at you and put her hand on your back, rubbing in small circles.  

The door by the counter opened and a nurse came out, calling your name into the small waiting room that was empty aside from your friends. When all five of you looked up at the same time she looked a little startled.

“Can I bring someone back?” You asked, getting up.

“Only one person.” She replied, eyeing the three boys drawing at the table, “this isn’t an afterschool hang out.”  

“We’re here for moral support.” JJ said, winking at you.  

You glared at him in return. All three boys knew about your crush on Kiara and had tagged along with the intention of watching you hopped up on laughing gas and uninhibited. Even Pope had been joking about you being all crazy like people always seemed in videos on youtube.  

“That’s fine, just,” you pointed to Kiara and she got up, coming over to you.  

“Alright, follow me.”  

You walked back into the dentist’s exam room, Kiara slipping her hand into yours encouragingly and squeezing. You hated the dentist as it was and if your tooth wasn’t impacted you would have kept all your wisdom teeth in.  

You weren’t exactly sure what length of time actually passed between you being led back to get your wisdom teeth out and the dentist sending you back out, five teeth, because your molar had to come out too, in a tiny plastic container. Despite the anxiety you had before and the pain you were in, you came out smiling, Kiara’s hands on your waist as she walked behind you.  

“She almost walked into the bathroom door.” Kiara explained as John B, Pope, and JJ stood up to meet you both. “I’m gonna sign her out.”

You were passed from Kiara to John B, who wrapped his arm around your waist as you hugged him. “Hi!”

“Hey, how you feeling?”  

“Look,” you held the little plastic container up and rattled it around, bobbing your head as if there was some kind of beat to the sound.  

“She made her teeth into a maraca.” Kiara mentioned, looking back at the four of you as she signed you out.  

“That’s definitely some serial killer shit.” JJ replied, grabbing your bag off the floor and heading towards the door, John B maneuvering the two of you to follow him.  

“Where are we going?” You asked, suddenly concerned, twisting your body to see Kiara.

“We’re going outside.”

“What about Kie?”

“I’m right behind you, promise.” Kiara called, grabbing her stuff and following Pope out of the little house. “Are we headed back to the Chateau?” She asked as she walked around to the driver’s side of her suv.  

When John B tried to put you in the backseat with JJ and Pope you protested, calling out shotgun. “I wanna sit next to Kie.”

“Okay, okay, we’re sitting you up front.” He promised opening the door and helping you in.

You leaned against the seat, laying your head on the headrest and turning to look at Kiara as she started the car and backed up into the road. “You’re so pretty.” You mused, drugs in full effect, killing whatever filter you would have usually had.  

JJ leaned over enough to smack John B’s arm as Pope started filming the two of you.  

“Thanks.” Kiara laughed, “you’re pretty too.”

“Do you really mean it?” You asked, looking a little teary eyed.  

“Yeah of course, you’re super pretty.”  

You smiled, leaning a little closer to her and just watching her for a minute before opening your mouth again, more damning information coming out. “I like you.”

Kiara looked back at the three boys through the rearview mirror before glancing over at you, unsure exactly what was happening right now. “I like you too.”

“Really?” You seemed even more moved by the idea that she also liked you and Kiara nodded.  

“Yeah of course, you’re my best friend.”

You groaned, rolling your head against the headrest momentarily before turning back to her, “no, not like that. Not like friends. I like you so much, you’re so pretty and I just want to go on dates with you and kiss you and love you.” You confessed. “When we went swimming last week and you had the green bathing suit and you looked so pretty and I was just like...what if we were girlfriends.”  

“Uh...” Kiara stopped the car at a stop sign, idling for longer than necessary as she fought the urge to look over at you, no doubt smiling at her like you had been since you got doped up, trying to process exactly what you’d just said to her.

“Any response there Kie?” John B asked, trying not to laugh as he leaned toward the driver’s seat.

“I think we should talk about this when you’re feeling a little less foggy.” She finally said, chancing a look over at you. She had been thrilled when you asked her to go with you into the dentist’s, as crazy as that sounded. But she got excited whenever you relied on her for something or asked her opinion or included her in something personal. She knew you were friends but it was always easy to pretend that it was something a little more than that. Hearing you say that you wanted to be her girlfriend had erupted an entire colony of butterflies in her stomach though she hadn’t quite envisioned this as the venue where you confessed your feelings.  

“I’m not foggy...I’ve never been clearer.” You replied though she had trouble believing that considering your trouble walking down the stairs.

“She’s never been clearer.” JJ chimed in.  

Kiara twisted in her seat, ready to tell the three of them that they could walk back to the Chateau if they didn’t shut up when a car pulled up behind her and beeped.  

“Sorry dude, we’re having a friends to lovers moment!” JJ shouted out the window.  

“I will come back there!” Kiara threatened as you giggled. The car behind them pulled around, slamming on their horn the whole time before finally throwing back the middle finger as they sped off.  

“Some people man,” Pope muttered and Kiara glared at him as well.  

“Why don’t we talk when we get to John B’s?” She offered, looking over at you.

“Why?” You asked, “you don’t like me? Are you gonna break up with me?”

“We’re not dating yet.”

“She said yet.” John B pointed out, smacking your shoulder like you were even coherent enough to understand the implication.  

“Okay, I am driving this car the rest of the way and if any of you distracts me I will kick you out.” Kiara announced, turning back around to face the front and taking the car out of park to continue driving on. “We will talk at John B’s.”

“Okay.” You twisted in your seat, leaning against the backrest as smiling at her as you watched her drive.  

-

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[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 10

“So,” said Ochako.  “Do we open the door, or…?”

The door was unassuming and bland.  Very… doorlike.  It was also the only way forward unless they wanted to backtrack several hundred feet.

Incidentally, no one was standing directly in front of the door. Ochako wondered if that was a coincidence, or if they were all just that wary of things after these past few hours.

Aizawa sighed heavily and hauled open the door.  It was dark inside, with a single spotlight illuminating a small sign that said, ‘This way to 5.’

“That’s suspicious!” said Iida.  

“So it is,” agreed Aizawa, squinting into the dark.  “I’ll go.”

Walked to the sign, and the rest of them tensed, ready to jump in to help at any sign of danger.  The lights suddenly turned on, and music began to blare.  A large television screen played a video of a dancing man.  

“A rickroll,” said Todoroki, reverently.  

If Aizawa’s sigh had been any heavier, it would have had its own gravitational pull.  

“Yeah,” said Six, voice as emotionless as ever.  “Great job, everyone, you got here.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“What?” asked Six.  

“The music,” said Aizawa.  

“Consider it a practical demonstration,” said Six.  “The farther in you go, the older we are, and the more experience we have with this kind of landscape.”  He ran his hand over the sign, and Ochako gasped as patterns and colors followed his fingers.

“You’re younger than Skyrunner or All Might, though,” said Ochako.  “You’re the same age as Aizawa-sensei.”

“Well, yes, but actually no,” said Six.  “I was here before they were.  I’m older.”

Ochako’s senses, honed by months living in a building with nineteen other teenagers, detected an opportunity for teasing.  She pressed her hand to her lips and put on her slyest smile. “Are you?  Reaaaally?”

“Memes,” said Todoroki, nodding gravely.  

“I can see why Nine likes you so much.”

.

Six grabbed Aizawa’s sleeve preventing him from moving on with the others.  

“If you’re trying to keep me away from my kids, I suggest you don’t.”

Six raised an eyebrow.  “Your kids, huh?  You know, we had a bet running about that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Anyway, I wanted you to hear this, first.  You can decide if you want to tell them, after, but they are Nine’s friends.  I don’t want to be responsible for them running off on their own without your knowledge.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me something that could help Midoriya but will be incredibly dangerous.”

“Are you sure your secondary quirk isn’t precognition?”

“I am saving my crisis about that until we get out of here. This waste of time is illogical.”

“Right.  So.  Remember when I said that Nine didn’t get to choose who we were?”  He gestured at himself.  

“Yes,” said Aizawa, already hating where this was going.

“There’s someone who we don’t count as one of our number.”

Now Aizawa really didn’t like where this was going.  “You mean, you’ll count terrorists, but not… this person.”

“Yeah.  Usually, we keep him locked away, but with all this disruption…”

“He’s gotten out.”

“Not yet.  What I’m telling you now may not be relevant at all.  But if that door does open, I want you to have this option.  Not all the others agree the risk is worth it, but I think that should be up to you, since you’d be the one taking it.”

“What option?”

“That person, he took something from Nine, back when his quirk first manifested.  You know all the guys you ran into back when you were in his mind space?  He took one of those.  I think, and most of the others agree, that it would be beneficial if he got it back.”

“He took part of Midoriya’s personality.”

“Yes, you can think about it that way.”

“That part wouldn’t happen to be something like self-preservation, common sense, or grudge-holding, would it?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

“When you reach One, if you want to try to get it back for Nine, ask One if the vault it open.”

“Exactly how dangerous would this be.”

“Horribly.  But you probably wouldn’t die.  This quirk comes with a time limit.  Otherwise, we wouldn’t ask at all.”  Six let go of Aizawa’s sleeve.  “Your students are waiting for you.  You should go.”

Aizawa stepped into the dark.  A battle strobed against the darkness.  No, two.  One with Six and a man who must be Five, and another with Six and Shimura Nana.  Both battles were against a darkness whose silhouette resembled the monster of Kamino Ward far too much for Aizawa’s comfort.

“You’re next!” shouted two overlapping voices.  

Aizawa blinked.  He was in a well-lit street, looking at what could only be the so-called Five.

.

Izuku woke up slowly.  Being asleep had kept some of the pain at arm’s length, but now it returned with a vengeance, along with an oddly comforting pressure.  

Oh, Toshinori had fallen asleep wrapped around him.  That was nice.  They really should start moving again, though.  

The ground rumbled, and Izuku realized what had woken him up.  

“Toshinori,” he said, shaking him the best he could from his position.  “Wake up. There’s an earthquake.”

Toshinori blinked awake.  “Did you call me Dad?”

“No?”

“Back in the city?”

“Um.  Earthquake. What do we… uh, do?”  He didn’t know what the earthquake drill for the middle of the forest was.  Four had, but Izuku was having trouble understanding him over the pounding in his head.  

“It isn’t shaking anymore,” observed Toshinori.  “We should probably still go.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “Let’s get you patched up first.  I can’t believe I fell asleep without making sure you were alright…”

“I’m fine,” protested Izuku, trying to stand up.  He could just keep using Blackwhip to stabilize—

The space behind his eyes turned white.  When it became clear again, he found himself pressed against Toshinori’s shirt.  

“Toshinori,” he whined, because he couldn’t help it, and, oh, no, he was such a burden he shouldn’t be making Toshinori hold his weight, he was a lot heavier than he looked, but his head was pounding and his eyes felt like they were bleeding and his skin felt like sandpaper, “it hurts.”

“I know, I know,” said Toshinori.  “Let me take care of you, please?”

Toshinori lowered him back to the log and started to remove medical supplies from the pockets of his coat.  

“What are we going to do after this?” asked Izuku, voice as quiet as he could make it without whispering.  

“That is an excellent question, my boy,” said Toshinori in an imitation of his usual heartiness.  “As you might imagine, I’ve acquired a number of contacts over the years. Some of them are comfortable with, ah, less than legal escapades.”

“I didn’t think you had any friends other than Detective Tsukauchi and Mr. Shield.  And maybe Gran.”

Toshinori hunched his shoulders.  Izuku immediately felt bad.  

“Well, you aren’t wrong.  Contacts and friends are in two different categories, I’m afraid.  In any case, I’m hoping to eventually reach one of them, and then…”  He trailed off, and Izuku got the sense that Toshinori was bracing himself for Izuku being upset.  “I am hoping to arrange passage to I-Island.”

“We’re leaving Japan?”

“Just until we get this cleared up,” said Toshinori.  

Izuku rubbed his eyes.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.  “What about Shigaraki and All for One?”

“Not your responsibility,” said Toshinori.  

“It kind of is.”

“It really isn’t.”

“It’s our family.”

“I know.  At least, I know now.  Goodness. I don’t think I’ve wrapped my head around it, yet.”  Toshinori rubbed his temples with his wrists, keeping his dirty fingers well away from his eyes.  

“What about before that?” asked Izuku, guiltily changing his line of questioning.  

“I have a few other safe houses around here.  Funny story about one of them.  Completely abandoned building on public land.  Was being used by some anti-mutant cult.  No one ever came to check it out after the initial arrest.  So. Finders keepers.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“All Might,” said Izuku, suppressing a giggle despite the seriousness of the situation, “that’s illegal.”

“I have done a surprisingly large number of illegal things in my life.  Comes from fighting with a centuries-old monster the government doesn’t want to acknowledge as existing.”

“They’ve acknowledged him now,” observed Izuku.  

“Hasn’t seemed to help much, has it?  Anyway, that one shouldn’t be too far from here. Probably.  It will still be quite a walk.  We’ll stay there, for a while.  Until I can reach one of my contacts.”  Toshinori sighed.  “I think the one in Deika will be out best bet.  He works in the shipping industry.  I’ll have to introduce you, just in case we end up separated.”

Izuku pretended the last sentence didn’t send him into a spiral of panic.  

Of course, this spiral of panic was interrupted by an entirely different panic, because the ground started to shake again.  

“I can Float us—”

“Don’t, you’ll hurt yourself,” said Toshinori, keeping a tight grip around Izuku’s bicep.  

Toshinori’s hands were extremely large.  A tree crashed to the ground in the distance.  Accompanying that sound was a roar too loud and animal to be completely human, but too coherent to not be human.  

Toshinori went pale.  

“Someone you know?” asked Izuku, covering his ears to keep the sound from battering his brain any further.  

“We need to go,” said Toshinori, bundling up all the supplies he’d taken out.  “We need to go right now.”

“All for One?” whispered Izuku, getting to his feet.  “A gigantification quirk?”

“One of his subordinates,” said Toshinori.  “One I never managed to find.  I’d hoped—Of all the luck—” He started cursing under his breath in English.  

Maybe Izuku really did have a villain-attracting quirk.

The shaking of the ground grew stronger.  “Run,” said Toshinori.  “Don’t look back for me.”  Toshinori had to know that wouldn’t fly (or float) with Izuku, because a second later his face twisted up in something like resignation.  

Izuku grabbed Toshinori’s wrist.  He could Float them both out of here.  

Blinding pain lanced through his brain again.  

Okay, maybe he couldn’t.  

The ground in front of them erupted.  A craggy giant burst up from below.  

“Little Lord!” the giant shouted, voice more than loud enough to hurt.  A massive hand picked Izuku up, holding him gently but extremely firmly.  “I’m SO HAPPY to see you again!”

Something clicked in the back of Izuku’s head.  A memory he didn’t know he had resurfaced.  

“H-Hi, Machia,” he said.  

“Did this bald man kidnap you?!  He smells like All Might!  But All Might is yellow.  Should I kill him?”

“No,” said Izuku.  “He’s definitely not All Might.  He’s, uh, a friend.”

“HELLO LITTLE LORD’S FRIEND.”

“Hello,” said Toshinori, waving a little, clearly in shock.  

Machia shifted to wave at Toshinori and Izuku hissed as the movement jostled his injuries.  His minor injuries.  His very minor injuries that weren’t bothering him at all.  

Who do you think you’re kidding, kiddo?

Not helping, Grandma.  

“Little Lord!  Are you hurt?”  Machia sniffed him.  “You smell like blood!  I have to bring you to the doctor!”

“The what?” asked Izuku, alarmed.

“Don’t worry, Little Lord!  He is a very good doctor!  We must go!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Izuku, before Machia could get more than three humongous steps away from Toshinori.  “It isn’t my blood, it’s the blood of my enemies!”

“Lord tried that one, too, Little Lord!”

“But—”

“Oh!  I forgot your friend!”  Machia turned around.  “Sorry, Little Lord’s friend!”  He picked up an increasingly distressed Toshinori and continued stomping through the forest.  

Izuku realized that Machia was headed back towards town.

“Wait!” he shouted, despite not having a plan for what to do next.

“Wait?” repeated Machia, balancing on one foot.  

Thankfully, Izuku’s brain churned out a plan.  “My friend here,” said Izuku, gesturing at Toshinori, “has a house nearby.  It would be better if we went there, and then the doctor can come to us.”

Machia grinned, which was honestly an unsettling sight.  “You’re just like Lord, Little Lord!  Always making plans.”  He brought Izuku up to his face, close enough that Izuku could feel his (oddly minty-fresh) breath and bonked the top of his head with his nose.

“Do you brush your teeth, or do you have a quirk for that?” asked Izuku before he could think better of it.  

“Lord gave me a tooth-brushing quirk!  He said he was tired of smelling my morning breath.  I do not know why he said that, because it was night.  But he gave this quirk to me!  It was very generous of Lord.” said Machia, delighted.  “How did you know?”

Izuku decided not to go down the rabbit-hole of his reasoning and shrugged.  “Lucky guess?”

Machia laughed.  “Lord says that, too, sometimes!  I am very glad to see you, Little Lord.  I have missed my Lord very much, and you are just like him!”

Seven vaguely annoyed and insulted ghosts buzzed in the back of Izuku’s head.  

“I am also glad that you did not grow up to be as big as me! You would be much harder to carry if you did.”

Apparently Izuku was not the only one with a propensity for rabbit-hole thoughts, because he could not imagine a scenario where it would be reasonable to expect him to grow to be as big as Machia.

“So,” he said, “you’ll take us to my friend’s house?”

“Yes, Little Lord!  And then we can call the doctor, and he will take care of you!”

Izuku didn’t think Machia meant to be ominous, and yet.  

.

“So,” said Aizawa, surveying the man up and down.  “You’re the one that decided the best place for my student to develop an unstable, highly dangerous, and painful quirk was the middle of a high-adrenaline training exercise full of other students.”

“Hey,” said the man, scratching the back of his head, “no one got hurt, and when you’ve been dead as long as I have, you start looking for entertainment wherever you can get it.  Besides, you’re the one that let the training exercise keep going.”

“According to your compatriot back there,” Aizawa said, hooking a finger over his shoulder, “you haven’t been dead at all.”

Five jolted and ran his knuckles over his bandoleer.  “Yeah, it’s easy to forget.”

It was great to know that Five was trash at lying.  True, he’d been told up front that Six’s explanation would be at least partially false, but still.  

Aizawa sighed.  

Five, who’d also introduced himself as Lariat and Banjo Daigoro, appeared to be a fairly typical hero for his era.  Minimal hero costume repurposed from military gear, worn with just a bit of flair, indicating that the celebrity status of heroes probably hadn’t fully set in yet.  Ammunition for a sidearm, although the sidearm itself was well hidden.  The gun was probably bulky, but if Aizawa didn’t miss his mark, those were stun rounds.  Eye protection, but not head protection.  Not that Aizawa could complain about that, considering.

“Anyhow, if you’re all here, let’s go.”  The man clapped his hands together, activated his quirk, and proceeded to fling Aizawa and his students through the air, without warning.

“Sorry ‘bout this!” said Five.  “But we don’t have time for the whole history lesson!  Just the highlights!”

Brief battles flared to life around them as Five dashed sideways along skyscraper walls and swung from building to building.  

“I always thought of myself as a sort of Spider Man, y’know?”

“I don’t know that hero, sir!” shouted Iida over the whistling wind.  

“Pre-quirk comic book character,” explained Five.  “Most of ‘em got censored after the first quirk boom. Didn’t want to give anyone ideas. But by my time, with the pro hero scene starting up, they came back in a big way!”  Five landed in front of a large convention center.  “This’s where they held the first Modern Comic Convention in Japan.  Or ModiComiCon for short.”

“And we couldn’t walk here, because?” asked Aizawa, suppressing an increasing urge to commit murder.  

“I thought my way was more fun,” said Five.  “Haven’t you always wanted to travel like that?”

Aizawa tugged on his scarf.  “I do.  Frequently. Under my own power.”

“Another Aizawa-sensei,” decided Todoroki, quiet but decisive.  “Aizawa-sensei, but… funkier.”

That did it.  Once this was over, he was expelling all the problem children and taking a vacation. The Rat God could find a sub.

“This is where I met Four the first time,” said Five, pushing the doors open.  The auditorium was filled with rows upon rows of booths.  All empty of people of course.

Aizawa, grudgingly, followed.  

First contact.  

Those voices…  Something about them…  The number.  

“Those are your voices,” said Aizawa.  

“Yep!” said Five.  “It’s a special moment, you know?”

Aizawa frowned.  At this point, he highly doubted that these ‘vestiges’ were simply based on real people. The vestiges themselves had to have reason to suspect that they were at least remnants of real people to give themselves a name like that, and with All Might thrown into the mix…  

Add to that the repeated themes, the oddly ritualistic components (First contact and you’re next), Midoriya’s closeness with All Might, and Aizawa got—

Honestly, he had no idea.  The fact that All Might was still alive tended to rule out the ‘Midoriya’s quirk is that he’s haunted’ theory, which, admittedly, was rather flimsy to begin with.  Perhaps it was a legacy-dependent quirk, reaching back from student to teacher? He would be skeptical—Most quirks had some kind of logic to them, and there was no way to extrapolate entire people from contact with their successor—but Vlad King had a student whose head was a manga speech bubble and other abstract quirks existed.  So.  

It still didn’t feel right.  Surely, Midoriya would have figured out his quirk before he was fourteen in that case.  Unless All Might had to be involved for some reason.  

Also, the fact that they called Midoriya Nine.  Six’s explanation for that didn’t even make a little bit of sense.  

Not to even mention the hints that All for One actually was involved in this somehow.  

“Banjo-san,” said Aizawa, “there’s no truth in the commission’s accusations, is there?”  He could have asked Six, but logically, Six would be the best liar, if he was the one chosen to relay the lie.  Banjo Daigoro seemed rather less adept at deception.  

The world seemed to gray out a bit.  “Are you kidding me?  What part?” asked Five, his eyebrows disappearing under his goggles.

“Yeah, sensei, there’s no way Izuku-k—”

“I’m not asking about Midoriya.  I’m asking about you.  How are you connected to All for One?”

Five opened his mouth, lips drawing back to reveal his teeth. He looked unspeakably offended.  “You don’t think we actually work for that bastard—”

“Excuse me, sir!” interrupted Iida after Five had tacked on several rather fouler epithets.  “There are minors present!”

“Oops,” said Five.  “Anyway, we do not work for All for One,” he continued, failing to answer the question Aizawa had asked.  

“That isn’t what he asked,” said Todoroki.  

Alright.  Maybe Todoroki wasn’t all bad.  He was still on thin ice.  

“Excuse me, is this a bad time?”

Aizawa nearly jumped out of his skin as a terrifyingly tall man in a hero costume appeared at the edge of his peripheral vision.  He was taller than Yagi.  

Actually, wait.  Aizawa’s expert eyes roamed over the man’s hero costume.  That was cosplay, not professionally done.  The man was standing there, in Midoriya’s head, in front of two professional heroes, wearing cosplay.  It looked like it had been hand-sewn.  

It also looked like it had been used.  And inexpertly reinforced.  Even for a vigilante.

Somehow, in retrospect, this made Midoriya’s choice to wear a costume his mother had made for him for his first training session make much more sense.  

Of course, Midoriya would have someone as ridiculous as he was in his head.  Of course, he would have several people as ridiculous as he was in his head.

“Four, I presume.”

“I prefer Shimura, actually.”

“Oh!” said Uraraka.  “Are you related to Skyrunner?”

“She’s my adopted sister’s descendant,” said Shimura/Four.

“Hey, hey, I thought we weren’t telling them this stuff,” said Five.  

Shimura blinked.  “My apologies.”  He paused. “However, considering the structure of my mental domain, it is likely that they would have discovered my chosen name in short order.”

“Who do you think he’s based on?” asked Iida, leaning towards Todoroki.  

“I can’t put my finger on it,” said Todoroki, “but he does feel familiar.”

“And why is that?” asked Aizawa, pretending he couldn’t hear his students.  

“I have a lot of unresolved trauma relating to my biological parents and also my quirk.”

“Ohhhh,” said Todoroki.  “He’s based on me.”

Wow.  Another horrible thing Aizawa would have to deal with when he woke up.  

“Isn’t your quirk Danger Sense?”

“That’s what Five-chan calls it.”

There was something extremely disturbing about this tall, intimidating, eyebrowless man calling another muscular intimidating adult man chan.  

“But I call it—”

“Please don’t—” interjected Five.

“—super anxiety.”

“Why?” cried Five.  “Danger Sense is a much better name!  It’s like Spidey Sense!  Like Spider Man!  You like Spider Man.”

“Yes,” said Shimura, “but I am not Spider Man.  However, that reminds me.”  He turned his unblinking gaze towards Todoroki.  “Nine-chan has several plans for removing your father. I believe only about half of them are workable, but it’s the thought that counts.  At least, that’s what Yagi-chan says.”

“You mean All Might?” asked Aizawa.  If his soul hadn’t already left his body, it would now be preparing to do so.

“No, my wife.”

“Yeah, don’t think about it too hard,” said Five.  “He’s always been like this.  I mean, he came up to me in the middle of this convention to tell me about a bunch of underworld deals going on out of town.  I thought he was, like, some especially serious cosplayer, but then he showed up at my apartment, too.”  The surroundings briefly shimmered into something that might have been the mentioned apartment before resolving themselves back into the comic convention.

“I apologize, I did not realize that was inappropriate.”

“I’m this little baby hero, just a couple years out of training, no name for myself, and this guy shows up like he’s in the middle of one of those old video games.  Like, ‘here, take this old legend and defeat the demon king, you level one peasant.’”

“I didn’t expect you to fight him right away,” said Four, looking both vaguely offended and confused, and now, yeah, okay, Aizawa could see a vague resemblance to Todoroki.  

“I’m still not entirely sure why you picked me, of all people.  There had to be a dozen others with the right, uh, requirements.”

“Requirements, huh?” asked Aizawa, having finally managed to shove the part of his brain screaming about the ‘wife’ comment into a tiny, locked box in the back of his brain.

“Yes.  As my other adoptive sister said, one must possess a strong will, an indomitable spirit, a sharp mind, a pure heart, and a ceaseless drive to save others, both body and soul.”  He paused for a moment.  “She also said something about being ‘just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing,’ but I believe that was a reference to the book she was reading at the time. Her parentage was certainly known at that point.”

“Y’see?  I can never tell if this guy is serious or just pulling my leg.”

“Why would I pull your leg?  Do you need to pop it?”

“I’m beggin’ you, man, learn some idioms.”

“WAIT!” shouted Todoroki.  “Are you related to All Might?  Is he your secret love child?”

The silence stretched between them.  

“I don’t know what that is,” said Four.  “You keep asking Nine if he’s one of those.  What does it mean?  Is it a good thing?”

“ANYWAY,” said Five, loudly.  He attempted to prop his elbow on Four’s shoulder, but the height difference defeated him.  “Four and I had lots of semi-legal adventures—”

“No, we didn’t,” said Four.

“Became best friends—”

“My wife is my best friend.”

“Let me have this.”

“Have what?”

Five sighed.  “Okay, whatever.  Fine. Can you cross them over here?”

“I think I’ll need the other one, unfortunately.”

“Why are you different, by the way?” asked Uraraka.  “The ones before stayed in their own mindscapes, it seemed.”

“Oh,” said Four.  “I’m having flashbacks.  Because of…” He trailed off, then sighed.  “Flashbacks.”

Right.  Wonderful. “We’re going to have to deal with your flashbacks, aren’t we?” Aizawa asked.  

“Unfortunately, yes,” Four said.  “I apologize for my habit of oversharing.”

“This and that are two completely different things.”

“They seem like the same thing to me,” said Todoroki.  

“I am inclined to agree.  I also apologize for the things you may see.  I will attempt to keep you away from the more disturbing sections.”

“Great,” said Aizawa.  “Can we stop wasting time?”

“We aren’t really wasting time,” said Four.  “At the moment, dream time is compressed.  We’ve only been talking for…”  He tilted his head to the side.  “Perhaps a second, in terms of real-world time.”

“He’s right,” said Five, crossing his arms and nodding.

“Seconds are still time,” said Aizawa, hoping they’d get the hint.

“I suppose—Oh.  You’re frustrated.  Apologies. Neither of us have interacted with anyone but the others in…  Quite some time.  I fear our sense of hurry has been damaged.  Especially with how distracted we all are.”

“Why are you distracted, if you don’t mind us asking?” asked Iida.  

“Another unwanted guest is trying to get in and Nine and Ei—Nine managed to run into someone extremely dangerous.”

Eight.  These people had a ‘live’ connection to All Might, too, damn it, and the blond idiot was wherever Midoriya was.  Maybe that should have reassured him, somewhat, because even if All Might was retired, he was still All Might, but, by some dark magic, when All Might and Midoriya were placed in proximity to one another, they gained the ability to spawn problems that Aizawa had never even heard of before.  

Like this one.

“Our final meeting, then?”

“I believe that would be appropriate.”

Black tentacles exploded from Five, covering the space around them.  When they receded, they were in a different place.  Underground, if Aizawa didn’t miss his guess.  A safe house of some kind?

Flickering doppelgangers of Four and Five occupied the space.  

“Why didn’t you transport us like that before?” asked Todoroki.

“Had to take the long way the first time,” said Five.  “That lady’s quirk changed some of the rules. You ready, Four?”

“Let it play out,” said Four, gazing at the static figures.

“Your choice,” said Five, shrugging.  

The ‘real’ Five and Four abruptly vanished, and the doubles started moving.  

“I suspect this is the last time we will meet,” said an older Four to a younger Five.

“Huh?  Why’s that?” said Five, twisting in his chair so that his arms rested on the top of the back.

Four stared blankly at a wall.  “Everything is coming to a head, now.  I’ve chosen to put my faith in you and the new laws.”

“Huh?”

“The last push of the old era…  My big sister would scold me for trusting you.”

“Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“My apologies.”  Four turned to look more directly at Five.  “The new quirk laws and the establishment of the Hero Commission are steps in the right direction, as evidenced by your existence.”

“Yeaaah, sure,” said Five.  “But what does that have to do with not seeing each other again?”

“They’re not enough,” said Four.  “Even now, certain existences cannot cry out for help.  What do you do, when you can’t turn off your quirk?”

“You’re not going to go terrorist on me here, are you?” asked Five, nervously.

“No.  I just want you to be aware,” said Four.  He tilted his head to the side.  “Whenever I go home, now, there’s danger on the horizon, and I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

“Is it him?”

“No.  I don’t believe so.”  He sighed. “I suspect it’s the Special Task Force, to be honest.”

“They were disbanded,” said Five.  “Any one of ‘em that didn’t get absorbed by the Hero Commission got let go.  Or, er, what’s the term?  Discharged.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Four.  “Perhaps this is simply paranoia.  I would certainly like it to be.”

“Look,” said Five.  “Maybe I can help.  You’ve never told me where y’all live, and—”

“Absolutely not.  I am quite certain that he is still monitoring me to some extent.  You do not want to be on his radar, Daigoro-chan.”

“Dude.  Why do you keep calling me that?”

“You haven’t told me to stop.”

Five sighed.  “I get it, I get it.  Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do.  I’m a hero for a reason.”

Four smiled faintly.  “I know,” he said.  “After all, I chose you.  Good luck, Daigoro-chan.  I think you’ll be able to do it.”  He started walking away, towards the door.

“You, too, old man.  Souma.”

Four stopped with his hand on the door.  

“I believe we will see each other again,” continued Five.  “Count on it!”

“In this life or the next,” agreed Four.  He opened the door.

.

As they crossed over from Five’s domain into Four’s, the dream around them did not shift seamlessly, staying in the same general location with only the details changing like it had for the others, but dissolved into something not quite like static and then blank whiteness before fading back in.

They were standing in the middle of a battlefield, a ruined landscape.

Not the ruins of a city, though, which made this only more jarring.  For all that Shouto was only a teen, he’d seen his fill of city battles.  He was used to villain fights.  

The only time he’d seen this kind of devastation in a place like this had been at the forest training camp last summer.  He swallowed, eyes rolling over uprooted and burning trees, huge craters and ruts in the soil, and the rare bit of roofing and wall. He realized, belatedly, that this must be the remains of a small, rural village.  

He stiffened at the sound of someone crying.  

“Over there,” said Uraraka, pointing.  

Shouto turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man in a suit hunched over one of corpses.  His face was shrouded in smoke.  

As he watched, he realized he wasn’t crying over a corpse. The other man was still breathing, his eyes were still open.  

(It was hard to recognize Four’s face under all those injuries.)

He stepped forward, wondering if he should help, if he even could help.  His hand passed through the man’s shoulder with no resistance.  

“Shigaraki…” said the uninjured man.  “Shigaraki Hibiki, you foolish child…”  

Shouto wasn’t the only one to gasp.

“’S not my name an’more,” rasped the injured man, Four, Shouto realized now.  “’N they gottaway, din’ they?  ‘Sworth it…”

“What do you mean, it’s not your name?  Of course it’s your name.  It’s the one I gave you.  The one you should have been born with.  It’s your name.”

“M’name’s…”  The man on the ground panted.  

“Shh, shh, don’t talk, don’t talk Hibiki, I’m sorry I snapped. Don’t worry, Daddy’s going to make it all better, son.  A healing quirk…”

“Name’s…” slurred the man.  “Shimura… Souma…  You…” He took a deep, rattling breath. “You don’t… own… me.  I’m…”  He made a sound that might have been a laugh.  “Free.”  

The scene began to go dark.  Before the last of the light was gone, the uninjured man spoke again. “Shimura,” he hissed, voice promising violence, “was it?”

.

Yagi Toshinori was having the most surreal experience of his entire life.  Considering his life included that awful college party in America, the one where he learned that One for All did not mesh well with psilocybin, that was saying a lot.

Here he was, riding on the shoulders of a man who had tried to kill him on the behalf of his worst enemy multiple times, alongside his student and successor, who was being called ‘Little Lord’ by the man carrying them. They were having an admittedly fascinating conversation about the man’s quirks, multiple, one that Toshinori was only barely keeping up with.  Two of them were being actively hunted by the government.  

That is, Toshinori, the retired professional hero, and Izuku, the licensed hero student, were on the run from the government.  Not Gigantomachia, the mass-murdering minion of All for One, who was quite possibly the evilest man alive.

(And also, possibly Izuku’s father.  But no one wanted to think about that.)

(Not to mention all the things going on in their heads.)

(This level of connection to One for All was thrilling, but also incredibly strange.)

Oh.  And they were going to one of Toshinori’s safehouses.  With Gigantomachia.  True, Toshinori hadn’t been to this one in a while, but it was still a place that was supposed to be safe, hence safehouse, and Gigantomachia was decidedly not safe.

He was also going to be difficult to get rid of, because he had a sense enhancement quirk that let him track down individuals he was familiar with from miles away.  Toshinori knew this, because Gigantomachia was currently happily telling Izuku all about it.

Surreal.  

Izuku reached over and patted him on the shoulder.  

Ah, yes, this was only made more surreal by the fact that Toshinori could feel how much pain Izuku was in, but the boy hardly showed any of it.  It made him wonder.  How often was Izuku in pain and Toshinori did not see?

Izuku patted his shoulder again, this time in a way that suggested he really wanted a hug but couldn’t give him one because he was holding onto Gigantomachia and the logistics didn’t work out.

Oh, and there was the safehouse.  

Gigantomachia let them down a short distance from the building (he claimed not to want to get to close, because he’d accidentally knocked down buildings in the past, which Toshinori could easily believe).  

The building was in better repair than Toshinori had expected after his long absence.  He fished the spare key from its hiding spot and opened the door.  

The back entry was full of people wearing black robes and skull masks, all of whom were scrubbing at bloodstains on the floors and walls.  

Izuku fixed him with a disappointed stare.  “I thought you got rid of the cultists.”

Yes, he had thought so, too.  He had, in fact, worked quite hard at getting rid of them.

“You!” shouted a cultist, pointing.  “You’re with that filthy League of Villains!”

“You killed our brothers!”

“Mutant-lovers!”

“Run?” suggested Izuku.

“Run,” agreed Toshinori.

[patroclusonly]

Well y’all, here is my awaited (by like, two people) really long post explaining why I think Bobby is not that great of a character and why I hate his relationship with Buck. 

(this was supposed to be for a reblog but it’s way tooo long for that)

Be warned, this will be me pointing out everything he did wrong and why the way he acts with Buck is just wrong too in a very direct way and with lots of swearing because that's how I express my anger in writing. So, if you like Bobby you probably won’t like this.

I will put a cut here so only the people that want to read it, do it

To start let me say what I think about the man.

Bobby is the most boring character in the show. There, I said it.  

Yeah, his backstory is super sad and whatever but he’s just bland and I think the reason the fandom loves him so much and loves to see him as a father figure is because he’s an old, non-threatening, white man. He said two coherent thoughts in season one and treated Buck like a kid and everyone bought this “nice, wise and always right” idea of him. 

Also, his natural stand is the ‘welcome to chili's’ stand. Yes. You know it is. Okay, keep going.

To be someone so “mature” and “wise”, he has the emotional maturity of a child. He snaps when he’s angry, he gives the silent treatment and he changes the subject when he feels threatened. 

Every time he’s mad at himself or about something in his life, he snaps at the team or even at people in calls, he gets defensive when someone calls him out on his self righteousness and his superiority complex. Now, to expand that i’m going to give some examples:

-He snaps at Chimney when they learn about the blood thing and he gets mad at the fact that now he has something good in his life because he doesn’t deserve it and so he’s all moody at work???

-He snaps at Hen days after asking for her help to stay sober, 

-He snaps at Buck when he says he read his book and even gets physical, pushing him against the wall 

*Now, because I have a thing against men and threatening physical movements, I’m going back to episode one and how he physically moves to make Buck feel scared (that he might hit him) when he walks towards him in the roof, making him back up.* (yes, Buck was afraid of his reaction and since he’s Buck he wasn’t just gonna stand up to him, much less because it was Bobby, and I’m pretty sure he (bobby) knew that)

-Also, the way he says “what did you just said to me?” to Buck in 3.18 like Buck had just insulted him. That was just a stupid and out of place reaction, not a reaction of a boss in the middle of a disaster but it will be talked about later. 

-That one time when he snaps at the owner of the building where the floor collapsed during the wedding 

-That one time he snaps (and again, gets physical and pushes him against a wall) at the dude in the episode with the vegan protesters because he can’t handle how he’s feeling about Buck and the lawsuit. (I’m vegan so yeah, fuck that dude, but the point is: that was another immature and unprofessional reaction)

(I could take that time when Michael is telling him he’s done enough (after harry sets a fire on purpose to play firefighter) and Bobby says “What’s that supposed to mean?” But I won’t because that’s just another immature reaction but for different reasons)

Going to the silent treatment or change of subject when he feels threatened:

-When Chimney is telling the team he proposed to Tatiana and Bobby is standing as Chim says “silently judging right there with that smirk on your face” (which is the vibe he gives all the time, thinking he knows best, and now quoting De Luca, who was a little jealous but a lot right saying “you come in here with your nose in the air and your eyes looking down”) then he just says “you know what? you’re upset. Let’s drop it.”But Chim keeps pushing and then he just attacks back.

-Also, he wants things his way and isn’t willing to understand the other’s reason for something. “I’m not gonna be satisfied with stolen kisses and take out containers. I don’t like keeping us a secret. It feels like lying.” (remember when Eddie says to Buck “a lot of Is there”? mhmm) and the fact that he worded it that way makes it worse. Also, “it feels like lying” really? what are you, five? 

-another moment that shows his immaturity and stupid things he’s said: “Well what am I supposed to do? Forget it, forget all the mean thing she said to her?” Are you a grown man talking about your wife (who can fix her own shit, thank you very much) and her mother, or about a little kid getting bullied bro?

Jumping to the next time we see Athena’s mother. In episode 7 from season 3 he literally calls her so she would make Athena stop investigating Emmeth’s case and after she convinces Athena to tell them everything, he tells her he can do it, like he’s giving her his permission or his blessing to do it? She was gonna do it anyway, fool.

another stupid line: “he called me a liar and it stung.” why does he sound like a five year old all the time? 

another stupid thing he said because he doesn’t take blame in anything apparently (and this is going to be mentioned again when I get into his relationship with Buck but I’m going to talk about it now too) Athena jokes about not inviting Buck over anymore because something always happens and Bobby says “That’s a great idea. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t invited him over for dinner.”  (HMMMMM)

Also, he’s mocking and condescending. But well, I don’t have the time to find all the scenes for that. Let’s just say he is with Chim sometimes (maybe some other character, let me know if you have someone in mind) and then with Buck the rest of the time and you can clearly see it. 

There are some other examples that could be used here but will be used to analyze his and Buck’s relationship in this next part.

Now the idea was to divide this by season and try to organize by episode but it got a little messy. You can understand everything anyway and that’s what matters, okay?

Season 1: 

You can see the potential for a father-son relationship, but all the patience and understanding he has at the beginning is gone after the roof scene (personally, I think it’s all about projecting his own past mistakes and that why he looks so angry and resentful).

He goes from “He just needs a little direction” and explaining things like why Buck can’t go into the hospital with the baby to “leave your problems behind” and kind of shaming him for sleeping around? Saying “we work with women side by side” as if Buck was harassing someone?

“So you wanna disrespect yourself, that’s fine with me. You wanna disrespect all these women that you chase around, that’s on them.” He’s clearly way too old school and apparently doesn’t understand that as long as there’s consent, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping around, it’s not something to be ashamed of. And Bobby (the whole team, honestly but Bobby has some defining lines) make him feel so ashamed to the point that once he feels bad about himself when he wants to start having sex again. 

Then after Buck comes back to the station with the truck, after helping with the little girl, he asks Bobby if he’s giving him another chance and Bobby says he’s out of chances and that he  “failed to communicate”  how lucky they are to do what they do.

To which Buck answers: “You’re wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here, and you know what? You were right to fire me. I was a punk. I still am one. But I’m a punk who understands what he lost.”  I think between that and the “I don’t have anything else.” he said in the roof scene, Bobby should’ve stopped doubting Buck’s commitment to the job. 

But he stil thinks throughout the seasons that he doesn’t take it seriously and that it’s all a game for him. 

In episode two, you can see once again the potential to this relationship when Buck thinks he’s letting Bobby down and Bobby takes the time to sit with him and explain that it’s okay to feel like that after losing someone and that he should talk to someone. And he helps him past that fear (when he tells him to do the maneuver) because he knows he’s just afraid and needs a little push. 

(Also, maybe this is not as important but he says “this is not a family” to Buck, but when they’re in the hospital with Chimney after the rebar thing he says “his family is right here”? Which is it man?)

(Also pt 2, I don’t like tatiana but he was super rude. “this is not about love, it’s about decency”. How about you find a better way to phrase your thoughts bro, because somehow you come out with the rudest thing to say every time.)

In episode three, Buck insists about knowing about his little book and Bobby just, pushes him against the wall?? And everyone is like, okay with it??

In episode fours he relapses (still don’t understand what triggers him?But I guess alcoholism is a complicated thing). Buck and Hen help him and he’s all snappy with Hen. 

Now, with the flashbacks you can see how he’s been an alcoholic for years and his wife tells him that she thought he would do everything to stay sober so he “wouldn’t be caught at work again.” 

And he says “I’m strong. I’m unbreakable. I’m superman. I go into burning buildings and I come out without a scratch. That’s me.”  You can see why he projects so much on Buck, but he’s projecting about the wrong thing.

Buck doesn’t think he’s invincible, he just would do anything to save people. Even put himself in danger. And yeah, thinking he can do anything while in the uniform is something that we see him say but it’s still not the same thing. 

(And this is just me being petty about how bland he is but that scene is supposed to be sad and it’s just meh. His wife tells him to leave because she can’t see him and he gives the blandest (and kinda rude considering the situation) “then what?” and when she tells him “I’ll forgive you, just not tonight.” he just goes out again and keeps drinking.)

Also, we know he spent years working while drinking but he can’t let Buck work while just sleeping around 

Okay, I kinda lost the episodes’ numbers here but when Buck starts seeing Abby and he asks Bobby for advice, his advice fucking suck. 

“Why don’t you try something new, just once, getting to know her.” Now, listen here, my boy Buck wanted that intimacy shit. Remember when he asked for truck girl’s number in episode one? That was him wanting more, but he hadn’t been lucky there so just, meaningless sex was the other option for closeness. 

“If you’re interested in her, a woman like that deserves chivalry.” 

“Any woman with substance and experience has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage.” 

He is the definition of old school sexist. My man, every woman deserves chivalry, okay? And please rethink how you value a woman’s worth, thank you.

(Another comment about episode eight: He was snappy and mad a himself and just drops the bomb on Chim about his plan of killing himself???Go to therapy bro, Chimney did not needed that weight on him.)

Entering season 2  (which doesn’t have that much scenes between them)

Let’s jump directly to the famous “I feel like, if I ever did that, you would yell at me.” that Buck says because he’s so right. He’s always treated like a reckless kid that doesn’t think things through but the fact is that he’s really smart and his plans and the times he’s jumped in to save people have worked out just fine? 

You can see the difference between how he treats Buck, who has been working for over a year now, and how he treats Eddie, who is supposedly a probie, from the start. 

And as a mutual pointed out not long ago and it stuck with me, Bobby plays favorites and Eddie is clearly his favorite. He can do no wrong and doesn’t need to be told what to do. He has Bobby’s trust without even working for it and Buck, who’s been there working his ass off for the recognition (not the approval) that he is good at his job (because it’s everything for him), gets nothing but being told off over and over. 

In Bobby Begins Again we learn that after he almost drank himself to death, Bobby gets sober again and tries to come back as fast as he can to work and he just wants the big boss to make it happen. Doesn’t stop to think maybe he’s not ready yet, he just wants to go back to work to, as he says, “atone for what I’ve done in my own way and if you won’t let me do that then send me some place that will.” (also, again, and example of wanting for things to go his way, no matter what)

He also doesn’t even stop to think about how much he fucked up and that, even though he thinks he’s ready to go back, everyone else might not think that. (Also, other reason as to why he projects so much on Buck)

Then 2.18 happens. Everything starts to go wrong for Buck and good for Bobby. 

Bobby goes back to work and Buck has months of recovery after the truck bombing. That was aimed for Bobby. And to which he never apologised or said anything about. 

They can’t fire the “guy who was a hero on the 6 o’clock news” but they can not let back the guy that was actually crushed, because the “hero” doesn’t allow it. 

He’s looked as a hero but everyone forgets that it happened because of him in the first place. 

Season 3:

In episode one, Bobby thinks Buck is ready to come back. Then the blood clots happen and he starts projecting again. 

“I thought I could handle it. Lied to everybody, ignored the pain. I don’t want him making the same mistakes that I did. The job should mean a lot, but it shouldn’t mean everything. He’s gotta learn that.” 

Buck was out for five? six months? And the blood clots were something he couldn’t see coming. It’s not that a month happened and he wanted to go back, even when he wasn’t fully healed. He did everything right but still, Bobby was projecting through his own past mistakes. 

Also “The job should mean a lot, but it shouldn't mean everything. He’s gotta learn that.” Bobby should only be worried about Buck being able to do his job because other people depend on him, not try to teach him some life lesson. And Buck was able to do his job, he passed the recertification, the clots were just a set back. He should’ve been able to come back after healing from that. 

Athena sees how Bobby is bringing feelings into it. [“He’s not my kid”]

“No. But he’s also not you. Maybe he’s making the same mistakes you did. Maybe he’s not.”

Bobby says “Just wait and see?” and I thought he would understand and he would let Buck back and wait to see if he actually had a reason behind his doubt. 

“You gotta let them grow up sometime.” Athena says, clearly seeing that Bobby is too attached to Buck and does (kinda) try to protect him like a kid. 

(Now, from here on I forgot (again) to write down some of the episodes’ numbers so it’s a bit of a blur but I’ll keep talking about how Bobby keeps projecting and lying)

We know that Bobby gets a call to talk about if Buck and his return to work. Let’s keep that in mind for a second. 

“It’s the blood thinners. The department is concerned about liability issues and since the doctors haven’t figured out what’s causing the clots.” He lies. Right to his face. 

“Well, Buck if we were out on a call and something happened to you…” He acts all concerned about how they can’t be worrying about him while on a call. Let’s remember now how Chimney got a rebar through his head and got stabbed and within a month he was back, and no one was worried about him getting any side effects in the job. 

“Then I would have two paramedics standing next to me. I would be fine.”

“They can’t do this to me. You can’t let them take away my job.”

“Out there in the world, helping people. That is where I belong. That is where I have spent five months fighting to get back to. And now you’re gonna tell me that I can’t?”

“I don’t want light duty, okay. And neither would you. I quit.” 

Now those are all things Buck said and Bobby, at any moment, could’ve said something like “I was the one to tell them you weren’t ready but as soon as you get cleared, you’ll be back.” But he chose to keep quiet, to keep lying. 

And then he dares to say “Buck has us”? Really? Like he wasn’t the actual cause of everything Buck was going through.?

Then Buck goes back for light duty as fire marshall and Bobby says: “For what is worth, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you didn’t throw away your career ‘cause you had a little set back.” (and dares to be annoyed with Buck for how he is as a fire marshall)

“I promise you,  your place will still be here for when you’re ready” PROJECTING. 

The whole scene with Bobby, Athena and Buck at dinner is Bobby being a coward because he knows what he’s doing is wrong. The projecting and lying.

“You’re not ready, that’s what I told them when they asked.” 

“You’re the reason they won’t let me back?” That was a clear question, basically “you told them not to let me back” yet Bobby deflects and denies it’s his fault:

“Medication is the reason.” 

Athena tries to help and says “Bobby is just worried about you, that’s all.” and to try and get Buck’s focused anger out of Bobby she says “We all are.” But she made it clear before that she thought he should let Buck back. 

“I thought you were my friend.” 

“I am your friend. I am also the captain of almost twenty other firefighters whose life and safety depend in the decisions I make and I can’t put them at risk if you’re not operating at 100%...” 

“Buck, I know that you went through a lot in that tsunami and maybe you feel like you can survive anything…” 

Now, for those last quotes I would like to remember the “I’m strong. I’m unbreakable. I’m superman.” dialogue and the fact that Bobby never cared if Chim was at 100% or if he himself was at 100% when he was asking to go back to work that time in Bobby Begins Again. 

Also, that night before Buck tells him about the lawsuit, he still doesn’t apologise. 

In episode five, when Athena jokes with Michael about not inviting Buck over anymore because something always happens Bobby says “That sounds like a great idea. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t invited him over for dinner.” My initial reaction to this was EXCUSE YOU BITCH??? but what this actually tells me is that he was never planning to tell Buck the truth about him being the reason he couldn’t go back to work.

Now this is both the fucking funniest and the fucking worst thing because this fucker really doesn’t see how wrong his is: 

“I don’t treat Buck any differently than I do any other firefighter under my watch.”

And I think even people that do like Bobby can see the bullshit in that. 

Buck is literally the only firefighter that gets treated differently. And you’d think that since everyone seems to believe their relationship is “father-son” like it would be a good thing for Buck, but no. He’s the one always getting screwed over while the rest can do whatever they want without any consequences. 

And we’re gonna quote the lawyer now because even though he used Buck’s lack of knowledge about how attorney-client relationship works, he makes some pretty on point arguments:

“It’s relevant because it illustrates how everyone except mister Buckley is allowed to return to the job no matter the injury or infarction.” 

“You asked my client for his help that day. That’s exactly what he did, without hesitation, he helped you get sobered up and you returned to your full duty as captain of the 118. (...) So isn’t the only difference between your off duty relapse and mister Buckley’s that he actually did everything in his power to help you return to your job?” 

I think the city tried to settle the lawsuit with so much money for a reason, don’t you?

You can also see how Buck, the one that was actually affected by what Bobby did, doesn’t hold any resentment towards him and is just glad to be invited to the rage room thing. And is the one to apologise AGAIN, when Bobby hasn’t apologised once.

“Brass didn’t want the headache, they’re afraid of the bad press (...) They gave me the option to transfer you, they understood how I might not want you back after everything you put us through.” 

Put them through what? Honestly. Buck was the one crushed. Buck was the one left behind. Buck was the one lied to. Buck was the one doubted and betrayed by one of the people he trusted the most. The rest was put through...? some truth thrown in their faces? 

In episode six, Bobby tells Athena “Well, he’s signed every liability waiver and release forum that the department threw at him. Pretty sure we could drop a piano in Buck’s head and he wouldn’t be able to sue the city for it.” 

And then later he says “I don’t know what I’m doing. He just, he doesn’t think things  through. He acts and reacts and that leaves the rest of us to have to deal with the fall out.” I would like a list of the times Buck did something that actually affected the rest of them in a bad way aside from the lawsuit where everyone was just left with hurt feelings, please and thank you.

Buck takes his job seriously. I would say more than anyone else. Because for Buck the job is the most important thing in his life, unlike the rest of them because they all have families to put first. 

Athena, again, because she’s a queen that he doesn’t deserve, sees that Bobby’s just angry and has hurt feelings. 

Buck is finally back and of course, because he’s Buck, he doesn’t just shut up and obeys, and Bobby says:

“You know Buck, someday  you’re gonna figure out when to stop pushing and learn some patience. I hope we’re both alive to see it.” He’s talking all patronizingly again and he uses the word “learn” (which is something important, they way he always uses that or implies that with Buck) because he still sees Buck as a kid that needs to learn a lesson. 

Hen, because she’s another queen, also sees that Bobby is being too emotional and unprofessional with Buck and Bobby says:

“I can see that he’s trying. It just still seems like he doesn’t get it. Like this is all a game to him.” Which honestly, what the actual fuck. Remember that speech Buck gave Bobby in season one when I said that’s the last moment Bobby should’ve thought Buck didn’t take his job seriously? Well, apparently even though he’s been working for two years now, to him,  he takes his job less seriously now. Crazy, right?  

Hen, beautiful smart and objective queen Hen, explains to him that if it was all a game to Buck, he could be fucking around with the millions (MILLIONS) he was offered on the lawsuit, but that he chose to go back to work and that Bobby is just being selfish (she doesn’t say selfish but we reading between lines here) by holding him back. 

Apparently, Bobby kinda gets it and is ready to let Buck back in for real. 

Then the scene where Buck helps the lady with the dude in the windshield happens and Bobby is called to the hospital because emergency contact? Buck explains what happened and Bobby, because he’s so fucking rude without even noticing how that makes everyone else (mostly Buck) feel, says: 

“‘cause you jumped in and saved him. Probably didn’t even occur to you to worry about yourself.” He says this like Buck just proved to him that he had a reason to not let him back. 

“Yeah, I know. I know. I didn’t think, just rushed in like I always do. I guess it’s like, the uniform is my costume. You know, I put it on and suddenly I’m brave and I’m strong and make a difference. Feels like without it I’m not much of anything.” (That last line broke my fucking heart btw) But here you can see Buck knows he’s impulsive, but he’s not really reckless. He can’t help his impulse to save people, it’s who he is. (what bobby isn’t naturally, but that’s another topic we’re not going to talk about right now)

I think here is when Bobby finally starts to understand that Buck is not a kid that doesn’t understand what he has and needs to be taught a lesson. 

“Does that mean you are ready to let me back for real?”

“Doesn’t matter if I’m ready, you are. It’s time for me to get out of your way.” This line says a lot. He finally understands that he can’t just hold Buck back because he sees his own mistakes on him and that he was doing that before. Buck is ready and has been ready for a long time but he just now sees that it’s not up to him to decide over Buck’s life like that. 

(For this next part we’re going to remember how I said that the only one to ever really suffer the consequences and to be treated differently is Buck)

In episode seven, Bobby finds out Eddie’s been street fighting. He listens to Eddie and understands, doesn’t judge him, doesn’t get mad for putting everyone at risk by coming to work injured. He doesn’t even tell him “hey, maybe you should take some time off and figure your shit out.” He just send him to therapy and lets him keep working like nothing happened.

In episode nine, when Hen hits the girl (as in crashes with the ambulance, yk, not actually hit her), everyone is sure that it’s not her fault and they let her return to duty right away, she’s the one to ask for some time off. 

And everyone doesn’t doubt for a second that the accident wasn’t her fault, doesn’t judge her at all. (which is fine because it wasn’t her fault but my point is, would’ve Buck been the one in this situation, I don’t know if it would’ve been as easy to resolve) 

When Buck is worried about Bobby and the radiations thing, he asks him how he feels and if he’s hiding symptoms, and Bobby thinks he’s annoying. But maybe that’s what he should’ve done with Buck when he was the one recovering instead of just assuming and lying and keeping him from returning to work. 

In episode sixteen, Hen just “felt like breaking every rule in the book” and does what she think is right no matter what (which was actually right and we understand but that’s not the point). We’re gonna add some quotes here:

“You can do what you want, I’m doing this.” She says to Chimney like there was any other option for him. 

Everyone praises her and is proud of her. Then Bobby comes in:

“Feels like this is about more than Anton. That girl, the cello player. You’re still thinking about her.” 

She knows what she did was wrong and asks “How much trouble am I in?” 

“Patient didn’t die. No one’s lodged a complaint. It’s a great save. Don’t do it again.” That's it. 

He doesn’t get mad, doesn’t reprimand her, doesn’t suspend her. Doesn’t say “Hey, you just did a really reckless and impulsive thing that broke many rules and I’m sorry but I have to reprimand you . Also, maybe you should take some time off? Go to therapy. Chill. Learn that even though you were right, you can’t just pull that shit at work.”

In episode eighteen, they’re talking about saving Abby’s fiance after Bobby finds out, and I’m going to put the dialogue first and then talk about it. 

 “Stop. You’re too close to this. This is too risky.” 

“Well, I am willing to take the risk.” 

“It’s not yours to take. You can’t just rush into any dangerous situation and assume it’s gonna be okay. ´Cause it’s not and I am tired of being on the wrong side of those hospital doors.”

“Bobby, I am not Athena.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Well, first of all, his priority should be doing the job, saving as many people as they can. Buck is WILLING to take the risk to save both people and  it is his to take. And not only because he promised to Abby he would save Sam, but because it’s who he is. He saves people, no matter the risk for him. (which again, three(? years of knowing him and Bobby still doesn’t understand) 

Also Bobby, hun, if you’re tired of seeing your team (and Athena) in the hospital, maybe you should reconsider your life choices because you’re captain of  a group of people that literally  puts themselves in harm’s way to help other people for a living. 

In conclusion, Bobby is kind of a hypocrite that projects a lot, is immature, resentful and has issues expressing how he feels properly, most of these things are always directed at Buck and that’s why I don’t like him and their relationship. 

You have reached the end! Amazing. This was a really long rant honestly but I believe everything I wrote here, so hopefully y’all understand my perspective and I don’t gain haters for this

 I think I make some pretty good points.

Okay, if you really read all that, thank you! It took me a long time lol 

(Tagging you because you asked: @angelcamael) (And my girl @himbo-buckley who is always there to listen to me rant about this) 

[whitehotharlots]

Liberal cruelty has consquences

This semester is winding down. As I am desperate to avoid grading student papers, I’ve spent the morning reading longish-form online articles. I just came across one that I feel very conflicted about. The online reaction to it as been troubling. So I don’t know if I have anything particularly coherent to say, but I’d like to talk about it.

The anonymously written piece is titled “What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt Right.”  It documents a young man’s journey from a garden variety, liberal-leaning goon to a frothing neo nazi mutant.

The piece is understandably sympathetic, seeing as it was written by the boy’s parent. The writer’s whiny and heavy handed tone caused me, and most of my e-pals, to dismiss it. If anything, the essay showcases an immense failure of parenting. If my child were to ask me to take him or her to a “Traditional American Culture” rally, I would slap the everloving shit of them. Lord knows how many times the kid’s parents had dropped the ball before it ever got to that point.

But then I re-read the start of the article, in which the parent identifies the trigger point for their son’s downward slide:

One morning during first period, a male friend of Sam’s mentioned a meme whose suggestive name was an inside joke between the two of them. Sam laughed. A girl at the table overheard their private conversation, misconstrued it as a sexual reference, and reported it as sexual harassment. Sam’s guidance counselor pulled him out of his next class and accused him of “breaking the law.” Before long, he was in the office of a male administrator who informed him that the exchange was “illegal,” hinted that the police were coming, and delivered him into the custody of the school’s resource officer. At the administrator’s instruction, that man ushered Sam into an empty room, handed him a blank sheet of paper, and instructed him to write a “statement of guilt.”

No one called me as this unfolded, even though Sam cried for about six hours straight as staff members parked him in vacant offices to keep him away from other students. When he stepped off the bus that afternoon and I asked why his eyes were so swollen, he informed me that he would probably be suspended, but possibly also expelled and arrested.

If Kafka were a middle-schooler today, this is the nightmare novel he would have written.

At a meeting two days later with my husband, Sam, and me, the administrator piled more accusations on top of the harassment charge—even implying, with undisguised hostility, that Sam and his friend were gay. He waved in front of us a statement from the girl at the table and insisted that Sam would need to defend himself against her claims if he wanted to prove his innocence. But the administrator refused to reveal the particulars of the complaint (he had also blacked out identifying details, FBI-style) and then hid the paperwork under a book. He declared that it was his primary duty, as a school official and as a father of daughters, to believe and to protect the girls under his care.

Eck… who edited this? It would have worked so much better without a fucking Kafka reference.

So, maybe it was the tone. I dunno. But most readers seem to regard this section as exaggerated, possibly fabricated.  The takeaway was “boo hoo, the nazi kid got punished for sexually harassing  a girl.” Heck: If a reader is truly dedicated to the #BelieveAllWomen mantra, then this description doesn’t warrant sympathy even if it’s entirely true. The kid said something that upset the girl. It wasn’t directed to her and it wasn’t about her. But still, he upset her, and she’s a girl, so he is bad and deserved whatever punishment was doled out to him.

And this got me thinking about my experiences in high school, as a student in the late 90s and a teacher in the mid-aughts. Administrators seemed to always be adopting some or other policy of harsh punishment for bad behavior: zero tolerance toward weapons, drugs, hats, disrespectful posture, electronic devices, swearing, Simpsons t-shirts, and mentally unhygenic reading materials. During dances and social gatherings, my middle school allowed students to bring in CDs from home. That was a decent policy, but anyone who attempted to play a “hip hop” track would receive an immediate suspension for “endorsing violence,” regardless of the track’s lyrical content. My high school adopted a firm anti-bullying policy, but once a boy came to school wearing a gothic dress as some kind of vague transgressive statement, and two separate male teachers called him a fag--out in the open, in front of everybody, as part of the official business of teaching.

Once, in 8th grade, two kids were caught taking over-the-counter caffeine pills. They didn’t get sick or anything; a girl saw them and she narced. They were arrested by the school resource officer, taken in a cop car to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped, and then summarily expelled, their young lives effectively ruined over 50 milligrams of a safe and legal stimulant. At an emergency assembly held the next day, the frog-faced principal croaked out a dire warning that the use of such drugs was strictly forbidden and we would all be subjected to the same fate, should we attempt to sneak in any No Doz. As he issued his stern warning, he slurped gluttonously from a 22-ounce mug of gas station coffee.

The point is, zero tolerance never really means zero tolerance. Rules are always--always, literally always, without exception in the whole of human history--enforced arbitrarily. Harsh policies rarely make anyone safer. They are employed instead to further humiliate and brutalize those who have already been rejected by the system. In my last two paragraphs, I cited the dumbest and most conspicuous examples of arbitrary cruelty that happened to pop into my head. This doesn’t cover the everyday, petty cruelties that teachers and administrators would exact upon kids they simply didn’t like. Without exception, these were the kids who were already marginalized: effeminate boys, masculine but unathletic girls, kids who dressed poorly, kids who spoke with accents, black kids, kids with learning disabilities or behavioral problems. These kids would be given detentions or even suspensions for minor infractions--looking away from the chalkboard, slouching, sneaking in candy, laughing at importune times, etc. It wasn’t the teacher’s fault, of course: zero tolerance and all that. But, strangely, the zero tolerance policies never seemed to apply to the popular, athletic, and/or well-connected kids. If Suzie Creamcheese was caught sneaking some Starburst during Algebra--well, she’s probably hungry, seeing as she works so hard. If Raul, Roofus, or Sheena were caught doing the same? God help them.

Some teachers were nicer than others, of course. Some were downright supportive. Others were simply evil. There was one, when I was in 7th grade, who was particularly repulsive and cruel--no kidding, his admiration of Rush Limbaugh was formative in my early-adopted hatred of American conservatives. He had matted red hair and teeth like a cracked picket fence and would wear a leather jacket out to lunch. Anyhow, he would prattle on about his hatred of kids who “Just. Refuse. To. Learn.” These kids were almost always black. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. He’d make a show of tossing them out of class--sometimes physically--for infractions as minor as getting an answer wrong when called upon. One time, a twitchy white kid who wore the same t-shirt every day called him out: It’s unfair, he said, that I’m getting thrown out of class for getting an answer wrong, when right before me another kid got several chances to respond.

The teacher turned beet red. He got on his knees and put his face two inches in front of the twitchy kid’s eyes. 

“I’m not throwing you out because you got the answer wrong,” he explained. “I’m throwing you out because you are you.”

Again, these are the conspicuous examples. The everyday stuff is harder to describe twenty-five years after it happened.  Most people were not brutalized and they didn’t have a single moment that ruined their life, but they were still exposed to a deeply unfair and cruel system, and such exposure naturally engenders feelings of betrayal, hopelessness, and anger.

Here’s my story--it’s particularly stupid. 9th grade. One day,  I walked into Spanish class, and the large woman who teaches in that classroom before my section grabbed me by the collar, physically lifted me out of my chair, and shoved her moist biscuit of a hand into my face. “What is this,” she demanded.

This was all very sudden. I could see nothing but her hand, which had a distinct fecal aroma.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She removed her hand. I looked down toward desk. She stood silently. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

“You’re gonna tell me what you did, right now, or I’m gonna double the detentions.”

I was still silent. Seriously, no idea what was going on. This enraged her. She began to count upward, starting at 3 detentions and stopping at 10, by which point tears were welling up and my face was flushed. I said I seriously did not know. She pointed to a small pentagram someone had engraved into the desktop. The desks, by the way, were movable. Anyone could have done it. She blamed me because she didn’t like me. I served 10 detentions and had to pay over a hundred dollars (a shitload of money for a 13-year-old) to get the desk refinished.

This isn't the end of the world, obviously. But it really, oddly broke me. Before, I had thought that so long as I did was I supposed to and didn’t break any rules, I’d be okay. Now I realized that was bullshit, that any vindictive cunt with a few ounces of power could punish me for any reason, at any time, and I wouldn’t be allowed to mount a defense. That’s the sort of thing that fucks with a kid’s head.  I mean, christ--it’s 23 years later and I’m still kinda pissed about it. I hope that woman is dead.

I regained a sense of control by stealing books from the woman’s classroom. A few times a week, I would grab a textbook when I came in, use it during class, and walk out with it. At the end of the school year, some friends and I burned them in a glorious bonfire along the banks of the Mississippi.

My response was petty and destructive, but I don’t feel any pengs of guilt or shame in remembering it. I had to do something to reassert agency, to feel like I had some control, and I managed to find a way to go about doing it that didn’t hurt anybody or get me into trouble. Regardless of the morality of my particular response, we can agree that kids are now much more surveilled than they were 20-odd years ago, and that minor mischief is now much more harshly criminalized. If a kid finds themself on the outs within their school, there’s really no way they can push back. Their only available avenue of asserting control over their lives is to wander into welcoming communities elsewhere…

One more anecdote then I’m done….

My sister was in high school during 9/11. The attacks were on a Tuesday, and the whole rest of the week was assemblies and talking circles and other such activities meant to assuage fear and gin up the hatred of the dirty brown bastards that done this. Two of my sister’s friends, older boys, were the sort of kids who read Howard Zinn and listened to Jello Biafra’s spoken word records. During one meeting, they expressed exasperation at a girl who was sobbing because she just, like, didn’t know why anyone would do that. The boys certainly didn’t approve of the attacks, but they tried to explain the whole concept of the US being an unhinged and murderous imperial power that had done much worse stuff all over the globe. The audience gasped. The boys were hauled into the principal’s office. They were charged with verbally assaulting the crying girl. One was suspended. The other expelled.

So, I dunno… go ahead. If you think due process is evil, that all victimhood claims are valid and should be taken at face value, and that kids of lesser social status should be demonized and made into criminals for upsetting members of the fair sex, then you do you. That’s fine if that’s what you believe. But please don’t be so naive as to think that the bulk of these newly criminalized behaviors are going to actually be malignant, or that the genuinely malignant behaviors of secure kids will be curbed in any way. Please respect yourself enough to realize that school admins aren’t magic sages with mature moral compasses--a plurality of them were business majors in college, for fuck’s sake. And most importantly, don’t be surprised if the kids you dismiss wind up doing some crazy or awful shit in response.

[kaleidiope]

September Project updation post in October because, well, i’m silly

This post I’ll mainly talk about my plan for my stories, and the things that’ve changed along with my plans for them and such. This was suppose to be in September but, I procrastinated, so yeah!  And, a ‘keep reading’ line to keep things tidy looking! Also, I actually had this as a draft, but forgot about it! Also, also, please don’t mind all the spelling errors that i’m sure is in here, this is quite long, and i’m so sorry for all of that!

You all know the drill, this is an update for the story I've been working on. It was made in roughly February of 2019. Or at least, that’s when I got the idea for it. I’ve been working on it seriously since September of 2019. So, for about a year. On this blog you can find a good bit of random things about it, including drawings. A lot of the drawings I've done I never posted, maybe one day, probably never, but still! A lot of this Blog has actually been WIPS of my story. And, since those past updates, story pitches and such, a few things have changed, and that's what this is about!

First, for those who don’t know, I feel in love with One shot, Deiland, Moonlighter, Borderlands, and a few other games. Mainly One shot for it’s vibe, it’s feel. I loved it, maybe too much? And, really wanted to make something like it. I don’t see that atmosphere much, personally. On Music box maniacs, a lovely site, I was given the idea to make a melody for a character. And that’s how Umber came along. Over time, I kind of made Umber, and left her. Started trying to get into digital art, but without a tablet I tried to create a character that would be easy to free hand with a mouse. Which became Pax. Over time, I feel in love with Pax’s design. I drew him a lot, he was my first, and only OC. I’ve drawn random people and thing’s before, but he had a name. An age. And soon, a back story. He was set in a different world than Umber’s. Which, at this time, is almost abandoned. He was a potion seller’s child who only wanted to go on the adventure’s the customers where experiencing. And one day, he’d face a dragon, and possibly his fate. But that was scraped because each time I drew him, more and more, the backgrounds reminded me of Umber’s story. So, he became a child in her story and his was abandoned.  Umber was suppose to be a child traveling with no family trying to get awareness of her light to others. And once meeting Pax in another shop, he agreed to help her. So, you could say, Pax was Moonlighter based, and Umber was One shot based. The idea that her light was a bad thing and there were ‘”bad people” didn’t come until later. Though, Crimson was suppose to be a bully type of person who mocked, and even at times, almost hurt Umber. Because also, at this time, everyone was children. Once it was thought over for awhile then did we get the story line we have now. Umber was an inventor in a world suffering a seeming eternal eclipse. which was ruled by a corporation that was money hungry and didn’t care for the greater good. The world had glowing bugs that somehow emit a good amount of light, and through time and a lot messing and discovery, oddly power? Which is what the corporation sells, Starworm lights, and “batteries” of a sort. The bugs also allow some things to grow, but with them being harvested as much as they are, the corporation is killing the world. But, that won’t be their problem, they’ll be dead by the time it’s an issue. Now, we have a lot of characters and general world building stuff, along with the flora and fauna and how things work. So, let’s begin! (Yes, this is going to be a long post. I’m so sorry!) But, I have since changed a few things, which I will now state. I was pretty heck bent on giving them ages, but, I don’t wish for them to have any, anymore. This is not earth. It’s a planet without a sun. Keeping track of time is easier than days, let alone years. So for many, it’s just a toss up on how long they’ve lived for. Just a mere, rough, idea. I wanted ages for personality comparisons and height ideas for when I draw them. Which, was never my idea at first. This was just for OC’s to draw, yes, but then it became a story for them, along with for my own enjoyment and somehow it became more than that. Which, I oddly love. But, ages were more for an even sillier reason I've since abandoned as well, and I think the story’s better off now since then. Also, they were all children at a time. Adults wouldn’t even have names or faces, All adults were originally suppose to get full face masks. Instead of half masks. But Indigo ruined that, and after that, some of the characters were being made older. To fit with the personalities, for say, Talos. He was also a child, who I didn’t feel being a child would fit the character and mainly, their job in the story as a whole. So yes. The story itself wasn’t the main idea. Having OC’s to draw were. But I was given a lot of support on MBM with my story pitches, also, I enjoyed making them. So I continued. And I really enjoy this. World building has been the hardest, trying to make things make sense, like the eclipse lasting years. And the fact a moon bigger and that much closer to the planet would most likely make the planet itself, the planet’s moon, and the moon, the planet. And how is life still possible, along with, isn’t it cold? And to that, yes, yes, yes, and maybe XD Mainly, this is fantasy, yes, I do want it to make sense, yes, this isn’t earth. The people’s races aren’t our races, calling them human might just be an insult to them. I mean, they don’t even have pupils. (Thanks, odd drawing style.) So, my answer to a lot of this is, it’s not earth. This is fantasy. I’m doing this for fun. And I’ve done a lot research for something that was never suppose to be as much of a thing as it is, but i’m having too much fun to stop now. And with that as well, yes, a lot of my characters are suppose to have a deeper skin color. Talos, Mauve, Indigo, and so on, are suppose to have a more deep olive color. But, at the time of drawing a lot of them, I didn’t have the faith to execute other skin tones correctly. So I just didn’t. Just like drawing illustrations for my story. I didn’t think I would because I didn’t think I could, but i’m now willing to try. So, here is where we stand so far! I want my characters to have a rough age, but it could be depicted to give of take about three years. I’ve said I wanted Pax to be about 11, but I also see him to act older for his age and such. The idea of him being any younger seems odd, but if you wanted to give him a 9-15 age for an example, that’s more than cool. That goes for all my characters. I want a lot of my characters to look like their own character, i’m working very hard with redraws to make sure there’s noticeable differences with their noses and eye shapes and such.  I want different skin colors and face shapes and so on, but the idea of different races on such a small planet and even the idea of tanned skin in a world without the sun to give one a tan seems odd to me? But there will be differences, because I always wanted there to be. This story will indeed cover some heavy topics. Including but not limited to, alcohol, death, suicide, murder, mental and physical disorders and illnesses, such as DID, alzheimer’s, dementia, memory issues, abandonment, and a form of racism. All things are not straight out talked about or referenced, but lightly implied.  I took inspiration from a lot of things. (including places, animals, other stories and people) And I will not refer to any of it within my story, such as DID. There is already too much falseness and other wrong info on that and other things. I do not trust myself to paint it in a good light, nor a correct light. And will re-frame from actually stating a character has an identity disorder. The idea this world knows of DID and would use the same word is also something I question. But the characters disorder is based on DID. (Also, it’s Tobias.) The idea of genders is something that’s a toss up. I’ve never said anything of the sort and would rather not say anything. The idea that they have genders or sexuality is just something I don’t really want to think about and is rarely mentioned. The idea of love and such is mentioned, purely more for a joke/bit. But still I don’t wish to think of my characters with genders or those parts no matter what I refer to them as. Not mention these characters still aren’t human. I do use She/he/they pronouns for my characters and as of now have used phases like, “That guy” But, it’s become a personal running joke I want to make clear at the start of my story that it was translated and adapted to fit this worlds standers of word form. There are roughly 25 characters as of now, only five main characters, or should I say, five characters that get there point of view expressed. And about six support characters, and the rest are minor support characters. Some of these characters are only mentioned, or referenced, as an attempt to build the world. Questions are always open, and this story is undergoing many changes and constant consideration. As I learn, grow and improve my skills.  I have no hope or want for this to get big or anything of the sort. this is for fun. 100%. If it looks like I talk about this a lot, but never have anything to show for it, it’s because I want it to be perfect or close to it before I show anything. Which will be never, because I can never make perfect. I’m just trying to do the best I can and am pushing the limits of my skills to get there.  I should note, I am fine, I’m not “Pushing” myself. Which is why it’s taking the time it is.  I am really working on character personalities and keeping them coherent and sane along with the same. And talking about all this helps with that. As for now, I know what I want to do, and where I want my story to go, i’m just figuring out how to execute it best.  I’m more skilled in writing where I describe things, mainly emotions and the scene it’self. Along with script writing. I’m not skilled with writing conversations which is a large part of my story. Same with drawing backgrounds or anything that isn’t people. So my story so far reads a lot like a script due to how the conversations are laid out and due to how I describe how each thing is done. This is something I want to get a bit away from because it was purely so I wouldn’t get lost and confused with who was talking and the emotion/feel of each scene.  That’s because I have the attention span and instruction following skills of a carrot. I use my characters names far too many times along with a lot of other things I use for self help clarity which I hope to fix by the end. I do think it’d be cool to start dropping parts of the story and other things of what I have done, with the note that it could change. I feel it’d be fun, but i’m very hesitant to do so.  I do wish to make character bios and such for them all at some point and just have a post that lays down what has been decided so if anyone wants they can follow along with the process. But, that’s all a toss up as of now. Thank-you for reading, and for your time, I hope you have an amazing day! And I dearly apologize for this length! 

[gothamstreetcat]

7. Who’s the most overrated Gotham character? Why? Courtesy of @mydumbassenergy​

Let me first start out by saying I think every character is a little overrated in their own way. They have to be, as this is a show about the characters of Batman. Yet, there are different types of overrated to me when I think of this question. Like Jim and Barbara, who I don’t particularly like for characters therefore I find them overrated but for slightly different reasons. Characters like Oswald, Riddler, Jeremiah, and I don’t know why but I want to add Silver onto this list, because they are all over the top/dramatic. This may be the wrong use of the word overrated but I’m dumb so my brain don’t think the way it should. 

I know many of Gotham’s main villain’s are fan favorites and that’ s why they are in the spotlight, but I do wish they had used more of the side villain's too. Characters like Bridgit Pike, Mr. Fries, and even Scarecrow--they got an episode dedicated to them, but it kinda feels like after that they weren't used to their more full potential. Which is something I did enjoy about the first season of Gotham, each had their own episode featuring their story and a whole lot of content. I think perhaps the only character that can’t really be put on this list is Fish, and it’s really only because they killed her. Something, I wish they hadn’t done as she was created solely for the show and isn’t in the comics which I found very interesting and cool (yet, know I think I’m just rambling at this point and letting words spill out of me in a semi-coherent state).

However, in sorting through my messy thoughts I realized there is one character I do think is highly overrated overall and always. fucking. has. been. 

The Joker. 

I swear, every fucking time they make something, the Joker has just got to be the star of everything; and not only did they really one Joker-ish character. They had to have two. 

 Jeremiah in particular because even as he was peak Joker before Ace Chemicals, it just feels like he managed to steal most of the fifth season (as I would have liked to see more rouges from past seasons). For one, he’s very dramatic. Queen Drama Queen. Second, he spent an entire day re-creating Bruce’s worst day--ruining his whole day and he didn’t even do a good job while doing that. I made a video about this in the past, but basically this man had five months to do what he did, and he couldn’t think of enough dialogue beyond “hey champ” for Thomas Wayne. Who the fuck uses the word ‘champ?’ I don’t even understand how you manage that after five months and have children do your dirty work while you fanned yourself and got frisky with something who could clearly do so much better.

Going even further, he thought it was just this seriously amazing fact about Bruce that his family used to eat together. First off, who the fuck else is every gonna be there considering Bruce didn’t really have any friends. And second, I can understand not coming from a household like that and maybe being a little shocked that a family eat together, but to Jeremiah’s degree he really thought he had the code cracked on something that is typically normal. On top of this, he really went out of his way to tell Bruce he was weird for liking a really particular food, and you would think with someone who brags to know everything on Bruce’s life, he’d know that (hello!) Bruce is autistic and likes his specific food. He should be happy Bruce even eats at all. 

I would also like to add, he was one of the few character’s to seeming claim that Jim Gordon was Bruce’s second father (one of the reasons I think Jim is overrated) along with Nyssa Al Ghul. 

Excuse me, but is Alfred Pennyworth a joke to everyone?? 

And perhaps lastly, of course Jeremiah just had to make it into the final episode. While I am not trying to hate on the final because I appreciate how much thought, time, and effort everyone put into this show--these are just some of my feelings.

Moving onto this, Nyssa just might be my second overrated character partly because they threw her in seemingly at the last second, and she screams “I have daddy issues.” We all know if one Gothomite has daddy issues, everyone is going to have daddy issues. 

Nyssa (much like any other villian with a ‘master plan’) did all this work to hurt a kid. She did all this work just because of something that was her father’s plan anyway and not only that but really out of her way to blame Bruce for everything. She tried to steal Barbara's baby, and I don't know... she really just strikes me as one of those people who is admitted too big for their britches and they don’t know it yet (which is how I also see Barbara and why I don't exactly like her as a character and think she’s overrated). 

I could probably ramble more--and you know what? I think I’m going to. This last person I’m probably going to talk about is someone I should have mentioned first. Barbara Kean. 

Part of the reason I don’t like Barbara and why I feel she is an overrated character is because of the way they went about turning her into something more.  Initially I didn’t like Barbara because I thought she was whiny. It seemed like complained too much about Jim and his job but here are some things: A. he’s a cop. B. he’s a cop in Gotham. Both of which are very dangerous jobs and I’d imagine for someone who’d lived in Gotham for much of their life she’d understand that. Funny enough, for even as scared as she was, she became somewhat of a badass character. Yet, part of me feels like the show didn’t use that to what they could have, and Barbara came off as selfish and too big for her britches. She got these powers she didn't know how to use, almost didn’t wanna give them up, and put people in danger for her own selfish wants. I believe the only time I ever actually liked her was towards the end was when she had a change of heart and then had a baby. 

It’s crazy because even as I’m writing this out and I’m frustrated about the things Barbara did--particularly to Selina, she could have actually been a much better character given all that she’d been through. She could have been more of a hero potentially then just another victim to Gotham’s crime destruction. Yes, she had her mental breakdown and it affected her greatly, but I don’t ever remember the writer’s actually having her deal with that rather then putting her in a coma. 

Brutally Honest Gotham Roulette 

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

will the winx alt. con. keep with canon relationships? cuz sky and bloom could be a dope couple with good writing, and aISHA AND NABU OHMYGOD-

TLDR:

Yes and No?Stella/Brandon are basically the same, while Sky/Bloom and Aisha|Layla/Nabu|Ophir are getting a little bit of a more obvious over haul they will still be A Thing.

Tecna/Timmy, Flora/Helia and Musa/Riven are... less so, like, if they happen as a romance thing, it will be a long time coming, or less obvious.

Mirta/Lucy& Palladium/Avalon are also A Thing, but more background than any of the others.

So in terms of ships in the Canon show: they are a mess. On the surface they seem plausible, maybe even okay, but the longer you look at them, the worse the relationships get. I've tried to keep the basics, but change certain circumstances so things are less... bad foundation-wise

Bitching and Alt Con spoiler alerts below the cut.

Stella/BrandonBloom/Sky (feat. Diaspro)Aisha/Nabu|Layla/Ophir (feat. Roy (&Nex))Tecna/TimmyFlora/HeliaMusa/Riven (feat. Darcy)Mirta/LucyDaphne/ThorenPalladium/Avalon

Final heads up, I'm about to say a lot of sh*t, and none of you have to agree, we all interpret things differently, I'm the kind of person who pulls things apart and finds the smallest speck of 'rot' and grows it in a mental Petri dish to see how awful things could be... that is a terrible analogy, but long-and-short-of-it: my opinions may be based on worst case scenario analysis, rather than any analysis you may use, and I am not saying you should not ship things, by all means, ship all the things.

I apologise for the high levels of in-coherency and absolute aggro.

Stella/Brandon

On the surface, this ship is changing perhaps the least because they're a “pretty stable” couple, unfortunately, they also began their relationship with a lie and that was never fully addressed in Canon. I tried to combat that by having Brandon and Stella 'test the waters' so to speak, with Brandon asking early on if Stella thought she'd still like him even if he wasn't a prince, and Stella later mentioning to Bloom that yeah, she would.

I say “pretty stable” because they don't break up every other episode, but their relationship is kind of... on the opposite end of the problem spectrum, like: “I'd jump off a cliff with no knowledge of what was below and no safety harness or ability to fly for you,” they've displayed a concerning level of co-dependency.

I tempered that a bit in the Alt Con, mostly be removing the situation where that (jumping off the cliff) happened, because it was the result of characters being sudden!dumb! But I also feel like, whatever universe, they'd be the kind of couple who'd get through rocky points in their relationship because they'd try to make it work because they are connected.

Canon treats them a little weirdly, because they are (excuse my language) psychotically-in-love, despite both being established as generally flirty people, but it only once really put the jealousy thing into play, in season 4 when the writers tried to make us take Mitzy as a 'serious villain' by turning her into Stella&Brandon's 'Diaspro problem'.

Alt Con Stella&Brandon are more reasonable, but are still very much 'our eyes met and something clicked' kinds of in love, but they definitely put work into a stable foundation, and were able to weather the SkyBrandon reveal with only a small wobble and some breathing space.

-

Bloom/Sky (feat. Diaspro) aka: the Drama Llama ship.

I think this one is changing the most, of the three main ships that are 'staying'. Alt Con Bloom&Sky didn't actually start dating until late in season 2, and are being very cautious with their relationship.

Unlike Canon Sky, Alt Con Sky was hesitant to begin a relationship when he knew he would have to end it, and knowing it would be a douche-bag move. Likewise, Bloom's Canon displayed empathic ability came into play, warning her that Sky was hiding something from her, and making her hesitant to even try dating while that was looming between them.

The biggest change with the Bloom/Sky dynamic is that it didn't start under falsehoods, and Diaspro was treated with the respect she deserved, rather than an unwanted crazy ex (even before she was the ex).

Canon Sky was a cheater, pure and simple, we've (probably all) talked the matter to death over the years, and there's no interpretation where what he did and didn't do, was okay. But it also explains his later douchey behaviour: people who cheat are more likely to suspect others of cheating.

Canon Sky has always been quick to jealousy, see season 2's full on stalking bullshit, and of course the thing with the FrEaKinG unicorn.

And of course, since he did start his relationship with Bloom as a cheater, Bloom knows he has a history of cheating, and cheaters don't typically 'find the right person and change their ways forever'. Sorry, but they don't, which explains why Bloom is so ready to believe Diaspro is succeeding in stealing Sky back, whether she actually is or not.

Canon Bloom/Sky have no trust foundation, like zero, none, maybe even negative trust foundation.

Fixing that was simple: I didn't let them get together while there were lies to be had.

Now, love her, hate her, pity her, Diaspro is a huge part of the Canon relationship, so I do have to talk about her.

Canon treats her like an increasingly manic instant drama dispenser, and I think we're all sick to death of it, not just because Diaspro has become more and more difficult to sympathise with, but because we're sick of the Bloom/Sky (relationship-status: “Yoyo's would be dizzy by now”) continuity.

But she's a princess, which means she should be more politically aware than what she is in Canon, she's marrying in to The Royal Family of Eraklyon. Sky's already there, he's set, he is the 'scheduled in in pen' Future King of Eraklyon, he ain't got to do shit.

Diaspro does. She has to be liked by the current king and the people, even if not her future husband, her marriage is a job.

So Alt Con Diaspro gets to do 'diplomacy' first, she gets to make first contact with the Winx, rather than being randomly attacked by a crazy ass fairy and being humiliated in public.

But this also means that Bloom wasn't humiliated in public, because Alt Con Diaspro was tactful in revealing the truth about the SkyBrandon switch. (Because the switch wasn't actually life or death protection.)

That whole first meeting in Canon was disaster from the word go, and put such a taint on the relationship that it's season 8, and the writers are apparently still trying to beat that dead horse.

The main thing that stops Bloom/Sky from moving past their beginning in Canon, is that they just don't communicate. They run into the slightest problem and suddenly they're breaking up and they stop trusting each other and its the end of the world and boohoo, blah blah woof woof.

They get back together as a matter of course, like its on a freaking check list for the writers to tick off, but they never really deal with what happened. It's all: Inciting incident, zero to sixty in three point five break up, way too long stealing the B plot's screen time being pouty and childish, 'oh we were wrong and are back together now without dealing with the actual problem because there wasn't one we're just dumb.'

Starting them off with knowing that they have an attraction to one another, but listening to a combination of common sense/basic decency and intuition so they wait until they're at a place where they can be honest and upfront about what needs to be spoken about, rather than having them run head first into what is nothing more than a revolving door of relationship drama was important for the Alt Con, because ain't nobody got time for that shit anymore. (Have you seen the new time line, it's condensed AF.)

The Alt Con also does something else I always wanted to see: addresses the fact that Bloom is now in a position to marry into a Royal Family.

Alt Con Bloom/Sky is a lot more tentative than Canon, they started of on a better foot, without that lie and cheating between them, but they're going into the relationship knowing that if they work, and they feel like there's a good chance they will, Bloom will have to assume the role of Queen Consort of Eraklyon one day, she's not just dating Sky, she's dating his family and his Planet which means they have to take it slower and more seriously.

Spoiler alert for season 3 of the Alt Con: the love potion is still happening, the set up of the relationship though means there's less 'why doesn't he love me anymore' and more 'Diaspro was (not totally fine with it but) prepared to accept the change, this isn't like her,' and 'Sky and I were okay last time we talked, he wouldn't do this without telling me, something is wrong here.' (Diaspro is not a psycho b*tch/Mark of Valtor theory coming well into play here.)

-

Aisha/Nabu|Layla/Ophir (feat. Roy (& Nex))

So in Canon, Nabu and Aisha first met when Nabu just randomly up and stalked Aisha through Magix on her day off after their engagement was announced. And because apparently princesses can't date first boyfriends who don't lie about their identity, Nabu introduced himself as 'Ophir'.

Look, I get that he was shy and embarrassed or something? But what the genuine frick-frack?!

The writers have apparently never had romantic relationships before because that trend was really friggen messed up. Like... none of the relationships in Winx Club are what I'd call ideal and healthy, all of them have some aspect of 'oh god run!' to them, but Aisha got the short end of a ratty stick.

So Canon timeline (allegedly): Middle of third year, Aisha's home world is under attack and she can't do more than she's already done. Trying to take a mental health day with her girls, and this rando dude up and stalks her, then, because she's a decent person, she chooses stalker's life over the Magical Dimension (Agador Box), and it turns out, this random ass stalker has lied about his identity and stalked her because he's the fiance she never wanted.

And yes, they do eventually end up falling in love and choosing one another... right before he fricken dies less than a year later.

So you know, Aisha does her 'vengeance is me' spree, which was awesome but designed to put her in a bad light, let's be real.

And then: nothing, an extra heaping of man hate because Aisha is an angry-girl, but no one really addressed her grief after the fact, like you don't just wake up and get over the death of someone that close, and yes, I know that people do move on, but we never saw her moving on, she calmed down after an episode of revenge and then she was 'all good' bar the aggro-tude. She spent season 5 and 6 angry at everything male, then suddenly she was dating Nex and... I'm sorry, I do block a lot of the later seasons out, but I genuinely do not remember them getting together, they just suddenly were after a season of Nex being an asshole with an almost redemption scene when he saved Roy, who mysteriously vanished, despite sticking around post his job-arc in season 6, but I guess that was for drama.

I don't really care for Nex, but that's a complex and layered issue that is only partly about shipping, and only partly about the fact that he was an absolute asshole who almost killed Roy during training basically on purpose, even if I didn't particularly like Roy, I don't hate Nex either.

Aisha has had all the boys thrown at her, and it was annoying, because she never needed one, she sure as sh*t didn't need a second and a third who inexplicably 'won her hand' or whatever the hell happened there.

I would have been fine if Aisha had stayed single after Nabu, like, just because people do move on, doesn't mean she has to date again.

So, Alt Con, Nex and... urgh, 'Thoren' are persona non grata, because let's be honest, they were introduced for shipping purposes and Daphne/Thoren was the stupidest thing to ever be shipped in Magix, I apologise if you like the ship, I don't mean to start a war, but it felt like it was so forced and it came out of even less than nowhere than Aisha/Nex.

Also Daphne isn't returning to life in the Alt Con, sorry, spoiler.

But Nabu isn't dying either. (I thought about it, but it was a stupid drama grab, so it's been chucked and set on fire. I did have an idea of a plot line for the closure, involving Nex as the son of a Valkyne who'd left Waltevy, and him taking Aisha to say a proper goodbye to Nabu, and freaking waiting for her to be ready to date again and just being a decent friggen person... but, yeah, nah.)

Salvaging Roy, even in Canon is actually pretty easy: Roy volunteered for the duty of driving Aisha around because he was actually good friends with Nabu, they went to school together before Roy joined the royal guard (or whatever), and while they never got the chance to meet while Nabu was alive, Roy wanted to get the chance to meet the young woman who stole Nabu's heart, the young woman who loved Nabu like he did. (yes, Roy is gay now.)

Boom! Roy: kept, forced attempt at shipping: gone, call back to that one dead character everyone loved in a way that could lead to closure: available.

(So yeah, Roy is also gay for his bestie in the Alt Con, but also understands that Nabu will never feel the same, and puts their friendship above his romantic interest... he might get someone one day...)

With the Alt Con, there are places where I want to run parallels, and the Aisha/Nabu|Ophir meeting is one of them, but also not.

Again, season 3 spoilers apply: Aisha will be meeting Nabu under the name Ophir, but it's not for 'nefarious purposes of deception' like Canon, it's just a misunderstanding no one cleared up until too late. Part of (Alt Con) Androsian culture is something called a 'Sidhe name', something that an Active magic user takes on when they achieve a certain level or status. Nabu's Sidhe name is Ophir, which he uses for important or official situations, like during the siege of Andros.

Ophir and Roy are showing up early on to take part in the defence of Andros, and to fight along side the Winx, not as love interests, but just as two guys who were available, who are capable and who are helping out.

'Ophir' and Aisha get along pretty well during the events, and Aisha's parents, having been quietly worried about finding someone who would be a good match for their 'not as courtly as she could be' daughter, reach out to Nabu's folks to see if he's in a relationship, and all parents get a little ahead of themselves which leads to the surprise engagement, which leads to Nabu tracking Aisha down to apologise and see if it is something she'd like to pursue or if they need to sit their parents down for a talk, which leads to the reveal, 'Ophir isn't my birth name, sorry, surprise I'm your fiance' moment, which is no longer a 'surprise your chosen-for-you future-husband is a rando stalker' event.

And because the parents went off the pre-existing mutual attraction rather than just up and picking a dude, it's less stupid when they get together anyway.

(I'm sorry but, Canon Aisha did not want to get hitched to some random guy, but he ended up being her first love? Urgh, maybe I'm just too jaded, but it just always hit me as a 'if you stick it out long enough you'll learn to love him, settle now to be happy later' message. I am so happy they did find love and happiness together, as brief as it was, but... come on not all arranged relationships end well...)

(And yes, Aisha will be taking Layla as her Sidhe name, because it is such A Thing within the fandom, I had to find a place to throw it in.)

-

Tecna/Timmy

Look, this ship is not a bad ship, I think I just don't like it because I liked that there was a romantic relationship that wasn't... standard hallmark romance or whatever. People aren't all the same, friendships and romantic relationships look different on different people, and I enjoyed that Tecna and Timmy were a... “bromance” style romance, that they knew what they had, and it was enough even if it didn't look like the other couples' relationships. If we had to have their relationship take up screen time, I would have preferred it wasn't a forced dinner date.

They were so uncomfortable, but as that damn subliminal message likes to tell us: 'normal dating is correct dating, your love is wrong, so in the end, their friends forcing them to do something they didn't want to do, and meddling in their relationship was “the right thing all along”'.

>:(

No, none of that in the Alt Con.

Tecna/Timmy is a lot slower in the Alt Con, because their friends are more respectful of their different emotional needs. Tecna is learning how to express herself in ways others can more easily see and recognise, but the Winx are also learning to read how Tecna expresses herself normally (for her).

Timmy is a capable leader, but also a bit introverted, while he can take charge, he's more of a team tactician, gathering the data and making it understandable.

Their relationship in the Alt Con is romantic, but it won't take up much 'screen' time, and it won't necessarily 'look' romantic.

Tecna and Timmy of the Alt Con are... shared spaces, quietly working on their own projects while in the same room, sharing tools as they work, they're technobabble too fast for anyone else to keep up, they're leaps in logic that only the other seems to follow in full, they're hooking pinky fingers together when they stand close.

They're slow and methodical and contented and they know where they are together, and they communicate well, even if they don't communicate like Brandon and Stella who do it loudly and with giant gestures and exaggerated facial expression, or Bloom and Sky who sit and hold hands and sometimes struggle to word things trying to make sure they're understood by the other because they're a little afraid.

Tecna and Timmy clicked quietly one piece of a puzzle at a time, and they know they don't do things like everyone else, but their way works for them, and that's what's important.

-

Flora/Helia

Look, I'mma be honest: this ship kinda irks me a little. It felt like Aisha showed up so Flora had to start the romantic process, because a maximum of 1 Winx may be single at a time. Again: this is not a bad ship, it just felt forced. (Like in Sailor Moon Crystal, how just because Serenity and Endymion were dating, their friendship group/generals/guards had to be exactly matched and dating each other too. This is not just my K/Z|M/Z shipper heart being bitter, it just always feels weird to me when this happens, like just because Juliet and Romeo had a thing, doesn't mean the Capulets and Montagues had to start dating one another... bad analogy let's move on.)

At this point, I have no plans for Flora and Helia to be A Thing in the Alt Con, but if it feels like there could be some natural development, I won't rule it out. Helia will still be around, he and Flora just won't be auto matched.

...I fell a little bad I don't have more to say about this ship... I guess... as 'blah' as I feel about them, even I think season 7 did them dirty?

-

Musa/Riven (feat. Darcy)

Ah yes, the other ship we probably all have strong 'fix it or end it forever' feelings for.

We as a fandom have talked this one over as well, we all know that no matter how passionate it was, the writers just could not let them get to a healthy place and stay there.

Any time it looked like these two dorks were going to be okay, and move past their rocky beginnings: NOPE! Misunderstanding because Riven is a 'Bad Boy' and Musa has abandonment issues which makes it hard for her to trust him... or something???

… honestly it's a little tricky to pin down exact reasoning with these two, because again, I don't think the writers have ever been anywhere near a healthy and supportive long term relationship, and they need to prolong the 'she can fix him if she just holds on' token relationship.

Because realistically that's what this one is, the ship that tells young girls that they can fix 'bad boys' if they just stick it out, that boys like that can be or want to be fixed and 'good boyfriends are prizes you get for fixing shitty ones'. It could have been so much more than that.

The problem is there was never any space where Musa wasn't 'in crush' with Riven or in a relationship with him, and there was only a few times when Riven got to not be an asshole, all of which were typically wipe away for status quo reasons within a few episodes.

So the starting point for these two (versus relationships) in the Alt Con, is Darcy. You all remember when Riven and Darcy dated in the first season, but it was so she could use him as a maybe spy? But she might have liked him for reals? But she totes dumped him like a sack of crap once he was no longer useful and once he did his redemption act, no one ever brought it up again?

I'm not the only one who remembers that right?

So Alt Con Darcy/Riven were actually in love, they met and clicked and it sizzled, and Darcy regretted having to choose between Riven and her sisters, to the point where she helped Riven escape, even though it ended up leading to her own downfall.

And Riven was genuinely in love with Darcy, even into season 2 and 3 he's still in love with her, but he's also trying to get over her, because she's a bad person who tried to rule/destroy the universe.

He had a shitty childhood, he has reasons (not excuses) for being the way he is, and being jealous of Sky's leadership position, but (and this is the important part) Riven knows he's kind of an asshole, and he knows he's not the nicest guy, and the one who wants to make Riven not an asshole, is Riven.

(Reasons: This is why I did the thing. | Excuses: This is why you should let me get way with it.)

Riven is relying on his friends, and yes on Musa too, to help him become a better person, but he's not leaving it all to them, they aren't forcibly shoving him down the road to redemption, Riven is taking responsibility and trying to be better for himself.

Fixing him is not Musa's job, she's just a friend who's supporting another friend on his road to self improvement.

That's not to say that Musa has only platonic friendship feels for Riven, oh no, she thirsts for that capable warrior man, but she also knows that he's kind of an asshole, and a pretty face is not enough to make a shitty attitude worth it.

Though she still occasionally checks him out, (because she has eyes, she can look,) Musa has set aside romantic ideas for the time being, and after season 1 the two settled into a bumpy but solid friendship.

If Musa/Riven do become A Thing, it will be far down the road after a long term friendship, once Riven has gotten to a place where he feels both okay with who he is as a person, and that he has moved on from Darcy and can share his heart with a new person the way they deserve (rather than forever being second string to his first girlfriend) ((and because they grew together while they were growing as people, not her getting a reward for waiting it out)).

(Yes I do understand she wasn't some blameless victim in an abusive relationship as this rant may have seemed to indicate, these two were both to blame for their poor communication and hang ups, but mostly because the writers were ass hats. This show is designed for young girls, every message in it is first intended for young girls, though they can be shared with anyone, and because my brain: what's the scariest maessage that can be taken from this fiasco of a relationship? ^that shit^)

-

Mirta/Lucy

It was Canon, and I'll hear nothing to the contrary, but holy shit did Lucy keep running back to the Trix and treating Mirta like crap.

I am giving them a little more screen time, and an ongoing background arc, so I let them talk it out.

Alt Con Mirta and Lucy are in 'denial' (they just shy) about being 'together' as of the end of season 2, but they've moved past their fears of being abandoned by one another just because their lives and magics have taken them down different roads.

They'll finish figuring their shit out eventually.

-

Daphne/Thoren

… no, none of this. Just... just no, thank you. She's staying 'dead' and he doesn't exist.

-

Palladium/Avalon

So in Canon, Palladium had a crush on who he thought was Avalon, but was actually a monster in disguise. This was never addressed, nor was any trauma Avalon may have suffered during his imprisonment, or the fact that people at Alfea would have acted like they knew him, when they didn't and that would have been confusing until he got to know them all.

This was a ship in it's infancy that never got to be, because it was based on even more of a lie than Bloom/Sky, Stella/Brandon, Aisha/Nabu in Canon.

The Canon of this ship was straight up (ha, pun) queer baiting, let's be real, so Alt Con switched a few key details.

1: Avalon was possessed by a demonic sleeper agent rather than an entire fake!Avalon, so the relationship actually happened, and didn't get retconned last minute.

2: The students ship it

3: Avalon feels like shit about being possessed, but he and Palladium are working through it together

-

End Note:

I personally feel like the two biggest problems facing the relationships in the Winx Club was the absolute lack of communication between people allegedly in relationships, and the writer's need for Status Quo Drama.

(Status Quo Drama: things that happen to create drama and are never truly solved in a satisfactory manner despite being 'resolved' by the end of the arc in a way that leaves all characters right back where they started while pretending their was some kind of progression.)

[dragon8641]

The Soldier and the Empress 2

Lioness’ Prey

Back at the Elites headquarters, everyone was there but Sanageyama. I gave Inumuta the results of my inspection and he went back to typing like a maniac, Satsuki with her usual cup of tea, Nonon gave me that smug look she always does and Gamagoori was silently watching the school grounds from the window and ignored me completely.

"I think there's nothing else for a while now, would you mind if i pay a visit to Shiro, Lady Satsuki?" i said while sitting on one of the chairs in the counter Inumuta was but decently farther from him, from this spot i could see everyone else, specially Satsuki.

"This has to do with another one of your experiments, Tadasuki?" she saw right through me.

"Guilty as charged"

"You're brutally honest sometimes y'know Lizard" Nonon teased "If i didn't knew any better i'd say you trying something weird" I gave Nonon a deadly glare, unfazed by it she continued "But i do know better, either way i don't think you'd want miss this match" and she pointed her baton towards the Tennis ground.

I barely noticed, but Satsuki's expression turned somewhat angry for a moment before going back to her usual composed self.

"Hm?!"

That new girl, Ryuko Matoi, was having a tennis match against Omiko Hakodate, wearing that exhibisionist outfit, Senketsu… Fresh Blood... i think she called it, a Kamui. A sailor uniform made entirely out of life fibers, the students can only withstand a uniform made from 20 to 30% life fibers on them. So how was this nobody who dared speak to Lady Satsuki so openly capable of wear that uniform!

"(Who are you? Ryuko Matoi!)" my anger was obvious.

The match was going extremely well for Omiko, one point away from winning, yet inside my heart i could tell she was going to lose. of course i did not want that. After seeing how happy she was with her new two stars goku uniform.

But then the Matoi girl started to use that scissor as a racket, that's when Satsuki stepped in and forced Sanageyama to continue the match. That look on her face, that was the look she gave to losers, thus i assumed Omiko was done for.

Sure enough soon after there she goes a stripped Omiko flying through the tennis court. Not anything i haven't seen before, but i still felt bad for her.

Two years ago, when Omiko Hakodate was a first year no star student, i became interested in her and we dated for a couple of months. However, one day out of the blue Lady Satsuki demanded our break up. I was confused as to why… but i obeyed without doubt and put an end to our relationship. I was and I'm still stupidly entranced by Satsuki's everything. So while i was sad that i had to leave Omiko, i am Satsuki's loyal right hand. The feelings i had towards Hakodate were akin to a wildfire, spreading everlasting throughout my heart, but Satsuki, she is my sun. There was no real way to compare them even if i tried.

"(!)" I swear for a second i saw Lady Satsuki smile at Omiko's defeat, seriously, what is going on inside her mind?! I have made several things before that defied logic… and common sense. but none of them prepared me for Satsuki's inner workings, and i loved it.

Then she went on and challenged Matoi, the battle ended quickly since Ryuko managed to escape. After Matoi ran away she demoted Hakodate to a no-star, kinda harsh but whatever, she can do whatever she wants. That was the end of the day at Honnouji Academy.

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, I had my daily arm wrestle with Gamagoori, i always win when Lady Satsuki is present. Updated Nonon with the latest dirt i had on the Two Stars students. Sanageyama was angry and didn't talked too much. Then i had long talk with Shiro and Inumuta about a guinea pig for the 5 star goku uniform experiment, unlike my other experiments, this one was approved by Lady Satsuki and i was barely involved in it.

A storm was coming, i could tell. which is ironic since tomorrow was gonna be sunny all day. Of course next day was sunny as all hell and i got more work to do… great, supervise more stuff, get even more dirt on students for Nonon and i can't even be there for the five stars uniform test. Then again that isn't a bad thing at all… if Matoi Ryuko goes around making a mess i get to be the first and probably the last one of us to fight her, I'm sure Sanageyama will be pissed, but that didn't stopped me while we were out conquering other schools.

Surprisingly the day went on without any incident other than the five start experiment being a failure.

Isshin Matoi, Ryuko's father who she believes was killed by Satsuki. I do not believe that to be the case in the slightest, yet i somehow know there is some sort of relation between all of them.

I got a little late to the HQ since i went to have a little talk with Omiko about her fight with Ryuko. Surprise surprise, Satsuki had left for her house to retrieve a very special set of clothes, undoubtedly she won't need my help there, though it would have been nice to be the first one to see her in that outfit… "crap i can't do it…" i'm worried about what that thing will do to her… then again, if Matoi could wear Senketsu, then perhaps… no, definitely...

First thing in the next morning, Satsuki already had a bunch of one stars students making some sort of arena, waiting for Ryuko Matoi. When we all were summoned she gave us the details of today's performance. We are not to interrupt her battle with Matoi. Well at least i assumed that was she said…

I could not take my eyes off her, that Kamui, Junketsu… Purity…, it looked like it had two eyes for a scarf, honestly i was both scared and mesmerized, she wore it so well, yet it could not help myself but worry about what will happen…

Needless to say that was happened right after Matoi arrived was overwhelming, the shockwaves, the one stars flying all over the place… the way she looked… no, i must keep those thoughts out, there's a time and place for those.

Finally after while Matoi fell to the ground and Satsuki gave an interesting speech and just as she was gonna land the killing blow…

"Mankanshoku? What the Fuck is she doing there?" The bowcut no-star gave an interesting speech in front of Satsuki, i was angry, but i could not interrupt.

It is with great sadness in my heart that i kind of understood what she was trying to say, even if she herself didn't… -Some limits oneself must break in order to unleash the full power of a Kamui- or something along those lines, i still don't fully understand the Kamuis.

From there on out i was constantly suppressing my urges to jump in the battle, but that would be: Against her orders and an Insult to her Ambitions, so i'm not gonna do that. Not that i was the only one like this either way.

That final clash though, the first time in a while that i've felt like i had to grab onto something for dear life. After that, Matoi collapsed and i never felt this angry in my entire life, i almost transformed my Assault Regalia and started to beat that New girl to death. But i had to wait until Lady Satsuki stopped talking. The click of her heels, man i love it when she does them, my rage almost banished in its entirety. Satsuki declared that Matoi was to defeat all the two-stars students that go after her if she wants the rematch.

"(I don't know what she is thinking making Matoi fight the two stars, but i swear i'll find out!)" I did not know the why, but i damn sure knew how to act after that.

With that the day ended, Ryuko left and Satsuki went back up for a cup of tea. I stayed up late figuring out the punishments and rewards in order to get the two stars students to constantly fight Matoi. the Punishment was obvious: Demotion to no-star. the Reward were a bit more tricky though.

"If you beat her You get to be a Three Star… that sure sound like a lot… huh?!" i noticed a presence behind me, a powerful one.

"What exactly are you doing here this late, Kai?"

"Lady Satsuki!" i bowed as soon as i realized that she was behind me, what i hadn't realized, was that she was wearing only a bathrobe.

"So?"

"Sorry, i was looking at the preparations for the Matoi vs All, i got a couple of suggestions from Nonon..." I was still bowing, i could not see her face, but i could tell she had Bakuzan with her.

*Sigh*

"(Huh? did she just...)"

"Don't over do it, when the time comes i want all of you in proper form"

"Then should i continue tomorrow?" I could barely think straight, i'm not sure ill be able to say anything coherent if i lifted my face to fully see her, also, it was weird that she had not asked me to raise my head yet, lucky me i guess.

"I don't think you will need to, do Nonon's suggestions, i believe i'll like them… You' did not conducted another experiment on yourself today?" She sounded very serious but i could swear i heard her voice crack.

"I… Did not" I could not lie to Lady Satsuki, not that i had any real reason to.

The experiments i had done were as a proper guinea pig for the four and five star Goku uniforms. it was extremely painful to say the least, but me and Shiro made a discovery, it was still nothing worth telling Lady Satsuki. The one thing i did hide from her, was Izanami, a wristblade made with the same material as Bakuzan. I kept it secret because i don't want Ragyo to find out, that said, either or both of them probably already know i have it with me, so it doesn't matter at this point

She then sighed again and

"Raise Your Head"

"(SHIT!)" i did what she told me too, but slowly, i wanted to slowly adapt to this sight that probably me and a ver other few will ever see.

"Your eyes..."

"Is... there something wrong with them?"

"They are really red" her voice was far too soft, am i dreaming?

"then i guess i did overdid it today... (She is concerned about me? i may as well be the happiest may alive right now!)" Just as i thought i could not be any happier, she gently grabbed my face and i naturally blushed.

"Hm" that and a smile, i was okay if i died right there and then. I unconsciously grabbed her hand that was on my face as if i was trying to not let her go.

We both stood there silently for almost a minute, but my self restraint kicked in and i was the one who broke out from it first. I wanted this moment to last forever, but there were orders i had to fulfill. I gently grabbed her hand, pushed it away from my face and placed it on Bakuzan. That's when i saw her blush, the Lioness of Honnouji, blushing, i must've died and was now in heaven.

"I must take my leave Satsuki..." She turned around, took her hand to her chest and spoke as the normal Lady Satsuki.

"Yes, Go."

"At once, Lady Satsuki" i bowed, slightly this time and went away to my room an the Academy… "(What. Just. Happened.)" was all that was in my mind after flopping tired onto my bed.

[entropic-introspection]

“Ash!”

Feet pounded through the undergrowth, arms shoved branches aside frantically. Fireflies spun about lazily, dim compared to the bright porch light that was the boy’s hoped for salvation.

“Ash!” he called again, slightly desperate.

On the porch, settled in an ancient lawn chair, Ash sighed as she tried to count her stitches again. Did she drop one? Or was she reading the pattern wrong? She ignored the boy running onto her porch in favor of squinting at her knitting in the fading daylight.

“Ash!” he said.

“Yup,” she said. “That’s me.”

“There’s something in the woods!” he exclaimed.

“There generally is,” she agreed. “Most of us call it wildlife.”

“It was big!” he stammered.

“It’s dark,” she said. She gave up on her knitting with a sigh and looked up at him. “Well, at least you didn’t tear yourself up running like that, Jim.”

Jim was nearly vibrating. “There’s something big and scary in the woods!”

“Big compared to you,” she scoffed from her lofty height of five foot nothing with the weight of 25 years behind her.

“What if comes up by the house?” he demanded from his proud ten year old height of four foot five.

She rolled her eyes and picked up her knitting again. “I dunno, it’ll bust down the door and eat us in our sleep.” She shuffled the stitches around on their needles, trying to count. “Wait, is that a knit or a purl,” she muttered to herself.

“My mom’s gonna kill you if I get eaten,” Jim said seriously.

“That she might,” Ash said vaguely.

“You don’t get paid if I get eaten,” Jim said.

Ash paused at that and sighed. “Alright, look. You go on inside and start getting ready for bed. I’ll go take a look.”

“What if you get eaten?” Jim demanded.

“Well, you’ll be inside with Daisy,” Ash said. “If something happens to me, she’ll know. And since she’s a coon hound, she’ll start howling fit to wake the dead. So when that happens, you lock the doors, close the curtains, ‘n wait til morning when your mom comes to pick you up.”

“I’m not leaving you to get eaten!” he protested.

“Nothing out here would eat me, I’m too tough and chewy,” she said. “Besides, there isn’t gonna be anything out there except maybe a lost cow, if I’m lucky. Now go on, get. You should be in bed by the time I’m back.”

She thrust her knitting into his arms and herded him inside over his protests. She grabbed a flashlight from where it sat by the door, paused over her BB gun, and instead resolutely closed a hand over her aluminum baseball bat. Thus prepared, she meandered out into the woods. She didn’t see anything as she walked, except for traces of Jim’s explorations, and the crickets were still buzzing and the frogs chirping, with the occasional bird call mixed in. Eventually, she reached a small clearing, a natural glade. She tapped her bat against the metal post that marked the edge of her property (as far as the county was concerned) and felt the wards still ringing true. A small bundle of fur fell out of a nearby tree at the sound.

“Wondered where you got,” she said, checking it with her flashlight. The creature was small, round, and had rabbit ears. The rest was mostly hidden under dense black fur. “Got anything useful to say?” she asked.

The creature opened its mouth and let forth a stream of noise with no coherency or discernible patterns.

“Useful as ever,” she muttered. “Fine. D’you sense anything all,” she waved her hands around, hampered by the items she still held. “Woo-woo?”

“Mahou shoujo!” it squeaked helpfully, in a disquieting imitation of the animes it had apparently enjoyed watching with her. It jumped up and down excitedly.

“Great,” she sighed. “Couldn’t just be a lost cow.” She knocked the bat against her flashlight a few times, and the woods fell quiet at the sudden intrusion of such a strange, loud sound.

“I dunno what y’all are,” she called out into the calm. “But I am apparently the fucking magical girl of these woods, so. If you’re here for trouble, piss off, wouldja? I don’t have any grievances with you if you’re just passing through, but do try ‘n leave the kid out of it. He’s jumpy enough already.” She stopped and waited for any sort of response.

Nothing was forthcoming, and she sighed. “A’ight then.” She turned to head back home.

“Mahou shoujo!” her fluffy friend insisted.

She glared at it. “Unless you’re suddenly gonna be helpful for once and explain fucking anything, I want to sleep. I got work in the morning.”

She stomped back towards her house, the rabbit-eared creature bouncing close behind, making distressed sounds. A breeze followed after them, carrying the noise away.

The revels the revels the revels, something not quite a voice whispered. It spun and echoed around the glade. The queen the queen the queen.

Tell her tell her tell her, another not a voice answered, excited. Must know must know must know!

The queen of night prepares her revels, but now she must know of this!

-

These assholes might have the start of a story now.

[bellamygateoldblog]

the 100 ofc!

— this gets a little rant-y and may or may not be coherent- currently pulling an all-nighter and it’s literally 5am- that’s it. That’s my excuse.

all time favourite character

IDK man IDK…I wanna say Jasper, maybe Raven

a character I didn’t used to like but do now

I’ll stick Octavia in this one. I actually did like her at first, then i didn’t then i did then i didn’t then i

a character i used to like but now don’t

[ insert every single character here ] Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke lost me very early season 3 and Bellamy is dead to me as of season 6. I’m throwing Miller in here- when he was that delinquent that wears the beanie I could go for that, but now i’m just straight up annoyed by his presence and want him to go away forever. My reluctant liking of Abby turned sour pretty fast, too. Arming a group of children and sending them out into a warzone to find your daughter, then abandoning them once she’s back is really SOMETHING. And hitting Raven while she’s acting Chancellor…i should beat your ass, Abby

a character i’m indifferent about

Wells: poor treatment of MoC and very valid anger aside, truely I don’t see the facination and borderline obsession fandom has with the character himself- he barely existed. Are you all in love with the idea of him, rather? Or the guy from the book? He was literally in this thing for three episodes, we never actually knew him, nor was he even given the chance to develop or have any sort of story. I see so so much hate about Echo and her lack of development and yet in the same breath y’all are talking about missing Wells and oh what a wonderful character he was. Spare me. He was a character full to the brim with potential and unfortunately that’s all he’ll ever be.

Anya and Lexa, too. I don’t really have opinions formed on either of them, nor do I really care to

a character who deserved better

I mean with that minor Wells rant aside and half a step into my hypocrisy boots…Wells did. Lol. I think he absolutely deserved better than to be killed off in order to push a white woman’s story forwards. I think he deserved better than to have been all about Clarke, his entire character about serving her character, even in death. This show has a history of criminally underusing/sideling/killing their most compelling characters, i think Wells would’ve been such a fun addition to the main band, i wonder how his personality would’ve expanded, what could his arcs have looked like? i think about how his dynamics would form and fair, what might he think of Clarke now?

Jasper deserved better than to have become a nihilist’s wet dream. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing, i really do. The creators, some of the fans even, chat about how it’s a gritty reality, sometimes it’s just Like That, and in some ways that’s absolutely right, but in a show of such loss to have this bleak ending for a character like this is just…a bit of an overkill? What’s wrong with hopeful endings? I mean we literally already had a similar scenario occur with Luna a mere episode(s) before. A woman who strives for nothing more than peace loses her faith in humanity and so fights for death. Why they felt the need to kick a dead horse by doing the same thing with Jasper is beyond me.

Listen many character have demonstrated suicidal tendancies at some point or another: Clarke, Murphy, Bellamy, Octavia, Harper and so on, but Jasper is the only one that gets the actual suicide? The character who’s canon mental illness has been more on the explicit and expressed side, the first victim of the ground, the very character who we’ve watched struggle his way through four seasons with an inconsistent or otherwise absent support system, his story ended with suicide. It’s devastating and, frankly, disrespectful. As if he was too far gone to find his way back into the light.

We saw clearly Monty’s reactions to Jasper’s death, but we didn’t see him grieve- he was busy rushing to survive the end of the world. This show loves sidestepping the consiquences of big events they write- there’s always a new threat to face which means everyone gets to move on abnormally quickly. Nobody asked about Jasper in Becca’s lab, we never actually saw anyone except for Clarke find out about this, nobody in the bunker either, not Octavia, and no mentions of Jasper in season five besides Monty begging him to be wrong about humanity. This show isn’t great with handling their deceased either. They want to focus on a fresh plot and not be stuck dragging around that dead weight. Finn isn’t mentioned in relation to Raven despite his importance to her story and of the fact this specific death shook the whole show. Wells’ has been removed from memory despite Clarke being the protagonist who we should know most intimately. I feel most detached from her, honestly. We’ve had a fair amount of Lincoln, though, and a consistantly aggressive reaffirmal of Lexa’s existence. But Jasper just isn’t here. He isn’t talked about. Jasper suffered, and Monty was right there in front of him trying to hand him that peaceful life he always dreamed of, ready to lift him (literally) out of that pain, and he died. Harper got to change her mind last minute, so did Raven, but not Jasper, no, his body went up in flames with the rest of it. The way they filmed the scene was gut-wrenching because of the hopelessness and coldness of it all. And i think he deserved to be spacekru, to heal somewhat up there, and oh what fun would he have been in season five. What would he be like now? What would he think of what became of everyone else? Of Clarke and of Octavia? Again, such wasted potential.

Jasper was one of The 100 on a show named after them, his death brought that to 4, and i can’t emphasise to you enough how big a mistake it was to craft a show around a certain group of people and then abandon that idea entirely. Your show is named something that it isn’t even about!!

Lexa deserved a more respectful death.

Bellamy deserved better than to be murdered brutally by the writers during season 6.

a ship i’ve never been able to get into

Bellarke. Braven. Murven. Clexa. Wicken/Ravick(?). Octabriel. Kabby

a ship i’ve never been able to get over

Becho. Memori. Jasper and Octavia were very sweet

a cute, low-key ship

Linctavia. It was always more of a background ‘ship’ for me. And Marper!

an unpopular ship but i still enjoyed it

Becho and Murphamy

a ship that was totally wrong and never should’ve happened

Flarke

my favourite storyline/moment

favourite storyline(s): delinquents finding a way to live on the ground and mount weather!

Favourite moment: i don’t think i have one TBH

my first thoughts on the show

It was exactly what i was looking for; a post-apoc teen drama, a little corny, a little gritty. I enjoyed season 1, and then 2, but with the constantly rising stakes to absolutely obscene levels eventually, my interest dwindled. By season 4 there was an almost desolate feeling and all the potential this had was dead and buried. They could’ve gone so many ways, done so much more, but for reasons unknown they chose possibly the weirdest and least interesting route available. I really thought they’d exhausted all their story by the end of 4 and i was, of course, absolutely correct since s5 was…more of the same…a literal recycled storyline that had been done not once but twice before it. In season 1 and then again in season 2. Since joining tumblr and fandom and seeing things from a various new angles, reading of social implications and meta on how sections of the writing are flawed, i’ve crafted a more informed and complex opinion than i had as a casual viewer and now see most aspects of the show in a completely different light.

my thoughts now

I’m over it. I think it could be safe to say i hate what it became. Most of my opinions of it now are negative, or at the very least have a critical component to them. I haven’t genuienly enjoyed it since season four and it hasn’t been actually decent since season two. It has a lot of deeper issues engrained into it’s writing, and there was a before when you could criticise those choices and obvious flaws and still be able to enjoy the show as it’s own entity because it existed as one at that time. But now it feels like an empty shell void of all life. With how broken and goofy the writing has become i just can’t take it seriously anymore. Characterisation and consistency have been thrown out in favour of serving the plot many many times before, but season 6 brought this to a whole new low. Dialogue was clumsy and there was a LOT of information dumping, it focused much too heavily on new characters nobody cared about, things were swinging from one extreme to another in terms of character arcs (see: Octavia’s full redemption and transformation basically overnight, and Bellamy switching from set to commit genocide in Clarke’s honour and ‘[we let these people die because] it’s not my fault their delusional’ to ‘let’s do better for Monty i am suddenly King of morality’) and in relationships (see: Bellamy instantly forgiving Clarke and then abandoning everyone and everything to save her, meanwhile he’s demonising Octavia like he’s getting paid for it). The characters just aren’t people anymore, they’re wheels that move the plot forward (in any way that’s required regardless of whether or not it’s actually in line with canon), and let’s not even talk about the science that pushes the envelope too far and Clarke’s insane plot armour. I’ve beaten this rant to death at this point so I won’t get any more into it. But just know: what was once a genuine fondness of this show has turned poisonous since.

[followerofmercy]

So YET ANOTHER of my friends just announced their decision to kill themselves. 

A quick message from me to anyone out there considering suicide.

Don’t. 

It will IRREPARABLY screw up your friends, family and anyone that even sorta knew you for life. My roommate remembers the kid that sat behind her in elementary school that killed himself. My mother just... isn’t right (she walked in on the aftermath. At age 9). You know I get anxiety attacks whenever people that I haven’t spoken to in awhile text me out of the blue now? I almost threw up in a Walmart today. Turns out my hunch was right. 

If you care about them at ALL, you will do the literal bare minimum of surviving for their sakes. Get help. The US’s hotline is 1-800-273-8255 and there’s an online chat at https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/. Generally speaking, you can call whatever your nation’s emergency number is and they will get you to someone you can speak with. There is no shame in getting help, real help. It’s certainly better than having all your relatives, friends and acquaintances crying and drinking at 4:00 4:30 5:00 in the morning.

And if you think that’ll prove they care?? YOU WON’T BE AROUND TO ENJOY IT. If you really aren’t getting the care you want/need, get help, or get new friends AND get help. 

Didja know suicide is as traumatic on the survivors as murder? Because it is! You’re killing their friend! Violently! 

Didja know it can cause suicide chains? One person’s suicide can be the last little push for someone else on the brink. Didja know it can cause intrusive thoughts in otherwise mentally healthy individuals? Guess how I know that! It sucks! 

Oh, and sometimes things won’t work out like anyone expects. For example, I got somebody to find my British buddy’s address and call the police on him, from the US. He’s probably in a mental hospital right now. (For a man who supposedly prided himself on being secretive, it was hilariously easy to dig up all his info.) He had a big going away thing planned; sent out an email to everyone he “cared” about, made a discord server so he could talk to a bunch of them at once, got a nice date set up, etc, now for nothing. Because he’s under suicide watch.  I have no idea what’s going to happen to him now.

You think an ocean will stop someone determined enough? A hurricane? National borders? They won't.

My other friend? She actually tried to kill herself, overdosed on something. I found her dad’s number (who was with her at the hospital while she got her stomach pumped) and told him e v e r y t h i n g. 

All those dirty little secrets? All the tearful depression uwu moments? Refusal to go to free therapy offered by the school? The cut scars? Weird religious things? Her girlfriend’s abusive tendencies? Not only did I tell him everything, I wrote it down in a nice little document to hand off to the psychiatrists. Because when somebody tries to take their own life, they have hit rock bottom. It does not get better from there and the secret keeping thing clearly didn’t work. Murderers don’t get a right to privacy, and taking your life is self-murder.

And yeah, I know it’s politically correct to say “die by suicide,” not “committing suicide.” I think that’s horse shit. (Ok to be fair, sometimes there are legitimate hormone inbalances and mental illness where suicide isn’t a conscious, consensual decision. That’s a bit different. That’s getting killed by a disease.) Stop GLORIFYING and EXCUSING suicide. It is NOT okay.

I hated to do that to my friend because she trusted me, but her life and recovery were more important than what she thought of me. We’re all growing up with awareness of mental illness nowadays, and you know that thing about treating suicide threats/attempts seriously? Yeah, that means NOT listening to the suicidal person’s insistence to keep all their urges and attempts a secret. NOT listening to them asking you not to get involved. 

You know, it’s a horribly awkward thing to explain to a 50 year old crying man that his daughter laying on a hospital bed full of tubes is a lesbian in a bad relationship and didn’t trust him enough to come out. He didn’t care, of course, because he loved her more than anything and her sexual preferences couldn’t change that. It’s also horrifically awkward to broadcast my friend’s issues with her mother to her father. She had a younger brother, too. He dropped out of school over this trauma.  

And it’s painful to realize that you’ve been used and tossed aside. We were very close! She drove all the way from Maryland to visit one day!  Anyway, she called me about four months prior to her attempt to tell me that (paraphrased) “I don’t feel anything for you. I don’t love you. I fake it. It’s like a game, putting on a new persona every place I go. I’m a sociopath.” 

I could smell the bullshit through the phone. 

So I told her I loved her anyway, (I believed what she said about the sociopathy, for some reason, and didn’t know how else to respond) and she got so mad because I wasn’t playing into her “See! Nobody cares about me!” act. She started yelling at me over the phone, “WHY DO YOU CARE?!” And I was just like, “I dunno. You can’t make me stop tho.” 

Anyway. She didn’t talk to me for another four months, I wanted to give her space and then I get the phone call from a friend. And I ended up having to organize like five people to give a coherent testimony and grief counsel her poor dad, because he had nobody. I talked to her once in the mental hospital to check up on her and then... nothing. 

We don’t talk anymore. We didn’t get closer afterwards, we completely split. It’s been... 2 years? 

Do I seem angry? I am. I cared about these people, still do, and they hurt the people I love. Do I seem calloused for shunting them off to medical professionals? Probably, but the thing is, the records show that I AM CLEARLY UNQUALIFIED TO KEEP SOMEONE FROM KILLING THEMSELVES. NOBODY has a friend who is qualified to do that. Get help. Don’t rely on people who are scared and very possibly in the same boat. It’s not their fault, but they will blame themselves. Look up survivor testimonies before you decide to take your life, see if you really want to inflict that pain on your loved ones. 

TLDR: Killing yourself is the actual cruelest thing you can do to the people you care about. Murder is wrong. If you can’t find a reason to live for yourself, then survive for everyone else. Call emergency services and get help.