#like act 2 is starting to wrap up but i still have. bare minimum two chapters

[beauzos]

me earlier this year: SOBR probably won't go above 90k words since i imagine every act is about 30k words give or take?

me recently: okay, it'll be 120k words at max

me now: ok. it'll PROBABLY be no more than 150k-

[lemotmo]

Okay I'm going to partially tell on myself. I am new, as in the Buck/T kiss showed up all over my dash, as did all of Oliver's interviews and I just thought he was the yummiest most delightful human being I had ever seen and heard (my god is accent is heaven) new. And I thought that first kiss was really well done. It was a great scene. Now, that being said, I didn'twant to jump into a show that was seven seasons into the story with zero context, except the stuff I had been seeing on my dash for years. So I started from the beginning, with the full intent and excitement of getting to T in season 7. Imagine my surprise when he popped up occasionally in earlier seasons. His only good part was when we were supposed to believe that Chim could lift him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, haha. That was great.

Anyway by the time I made it to season 7, it was too late. I had just watched 5 seasons of Buck and Eddie. There was zero room for T to compete on any level. Which is why the behavior of some is so confusing to me. Let me say first that I do not think the show always intended to put Buck and Eddie together, I don't think that's been the intention since the beginning. There is however a very good case to make that Eddie's introduction was Buck's actual Bi bell ringing moment though (*what a man plays in the background*). I do however agree that the writing has trended, increasingly so, in that direction. The writers do not hold all the blame however, Oliver and Ryan have kind of acted them into a corner. There are several scenes, multiple scenes, where the acting choices the two of them made were interesting, to say the least (looking at you 'go for the title' kitchen scene I love. Buck was flirting on every possible level in that scene).

Sorry, I got off track, back to my point. The people like me, who came in after the kiss popped up everywhere, being all in on T is somewhat fine. The problem would be the ones who are deliberately refusing to go back and watch the entire series before pontificating on B/T being destiny and all that other nonsense. There is an argument to be made that they're avoiding it because they know most of the history dismantles their current ship fixation. So as a result those people can be easily dismissed because they have zero context to any of their opinions. The ones who were with you all for 5 seasons though, yes I've seen their posts, who lost their shit over 2 pairs of lips touching, is what I cannot wrap my brain around. I completely understand the excitement behind that first kiss. It was a much anticipated moment for BUCK. He was the important person in that scene.

But confusing, or deliberately misinterpreting, Buck's revelation and sigh of relief at finally figuring out something pretty significant about himself, as being about him finding T is a gymnastics act I did not expect to see from so many long haulers. I mean, it should be obvious but T wasn't important in that scene. His gender was what was important. Which is why they have barely bothered to show him since that episode. And the interactions they have shown, minus the hospital kiss, that they made sure to show Eddie's reaction to btw, have all been red flag scenes. Little things that show this relationship isn't really that different from his previous relationships. Buck may have figured out the gender part but he's still making the same relationship mistakes. It's why the few scenes they've had together, and it's the bare minimum of effort, have been about Buck trying to initiate some level of communication and emotional connection and him being dismissed or having it turned into a daddy kink joke. I also think Oliver's enthusiasm dipped drastically by the end and it showed.

Which brings me to Eddie. The show, and more so, Oliver and Ryan have already done the hard part. The emotional connection, which is way more difficult to pull off than a physical connection, is already there. Their chemistry is already established.They're partners in every way but physically. As a result it is not a huge character leap to eventually bring a physical relationship into it as well. That will not be a shocking character development for either character. It goes back to the way the two have been written and they way Oliver and Ryan have interrupted those scenes. I won't touch their interviews because I think it's pretty clear, at this point, they seem to agree it's the way to go. There's more story to explore with them learning how to navigate an actual relationship than there is in bringing in other, lesser characters, to firstly try to compete with that connection, and then try to establish endgame status. I don't know. It's not about any two pairs of lips touching it's about the right two pairs of lips touching. Because when it's the right couple the characters get that sigh and exhale of finally! But the audience gets their sigh and exhale of finally as well. That is the point.

Sorry this got looooong 🤣

Ooooh Nonny, you speak right to my heart.

First of all, thank you for going back all the way to season 1 to actually sit down and watch the show. We aren't just making up Buddie. It has been there since the beginning. I'm so glad you got to witness their beautiful history together and that you realised just how right they are for each other.

I can't speak for the people who suddenly turned 180° and dropped Buddie for BT. I have been shipping Buddie from season 2, so I don't understand their reasoning or motivation either. It like you said so beautifully:

"It's not about any two pairs of lips touching. It's about the right two pairs of lips touching."

And that is what it comes down to. We can be content with a lackluster, meaningless relationship for queer rep. Or we can be exhilerated with an amazingly complex and years in the making relationship, which will be so much better for queer rep. It will be revolutionary in so many ways to make a slow burn queer ship canon.

(Before anyone comes at me for talking about queer rep. I have slowly been figuring myself out over the last couple of years and, looking back at my life and relationships, I've come to realise that I definitely belong somewhere on the ace spectrum. Not sure where exactly, I'm still searching for the right label, but it feels right to me. This is actually the first time I said this on a public forum for people to read. Kinda scary to be honest.)

I know what I would choose for myself if I was faced with these two options. Why wouldn't we automatically choose this for Buck and Eddie as well? It's mind-boggling really.

So yeah: queer Eddie and Buddie canon in season 8! All the way!

Don't apologise for your great post. I loved reading it. Feel welcome to drop in whenever you want. :)

[deadricslover]

i loved all the petnames bruce had for reader in your newest fic, it was so cute! it got me thinking if i could request a fic where bruce catches onto the fact that she likes them and sorta teases her about it because hes a little shit (affectionate)? thankyou thankyou!! <3

my heaven on earth PT.2

not my gif!

pt. 1 here!

here's my Masterlist

a/n:..... I GOT CARRIED AWAY OK?but idk if it was worth it 😭THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FEEDBACK! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. I can 10000% imagine Bruce being such an annoying little shit about this so I'd love to write it! thanks for planting in my head forever >.<

summary: in the request^^

warnings: not proofread! (I'd recommend you read pt. 1^^ to understand this post, it's cute aswell so it's worth it :)). cursing. fluff. Bruce being a little shit and teasing the reader. pet names obviously.

pairings: fem!reader X bale!Bruce Wayne.

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The soft touch of the white cotton sheets scented in your best friend's smell you'd been wrapped in for the past several nights, embraced you and shielded you from the bright morning sun coming through the clear ceiling to floor windows overlooking the city Gotham. You take a long breath in before plopping your head back into the cloud-like pillow with a large exhausted yawn. You quickly discover Bruce is no longer in the bed next to you, making you want to leap to your feet and sprint to wherever he is, engulfing him in a warm embrace. Bruce had always been so good to you and made you feel so loved, but recently he's made you believe that he'd ditch the whole Batman act, give up his family's business, burn Gotham, and so much more, just for you. You appreciated it more than words could express, and Bruce recognized it, but he wished he could do more for you so you could forget about your past experiences.

You sit up on the bed and stretch rubbing the sleep from your eyes and running your fingers through your bed hair before standing up and making the bed. You start to make your way to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast being made and the sound of Bruce's voice. You enter the kitchen to hear Alfred and Bruce conversing, until Alfred sees your presence and kindly greets you good morning.

"good morning Y/N. How was your sleep last night?"

When Alfred greets you, Bruce turns his body with urgency --even though he tried to hide it, you saw-- he and sees you standing there and his face immediately lights up in admiration and excitement.

"I slept great, thanks, Alfred" you thank

"morning, beautiful" Bruce chimes in happily. He does the bare minimum and it's still gives you butterflies in your tummy.

"hey, Bruce" you say walking over to him on the stool, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind briefly. He places his strong arm over yours and squeezes it lightly.

When you're around, Alfred is hurt, but he enjoys your company. It's simply that he believes you and Bruce are having a secret affair that you're not telling him about, and it hurts him inside to think neither of you trust him with such a trivial matter. You've both assured him that if you were in a relationship, you'd tell him because Bruce sees Alfred as a father figure. The question would normally make a pair uncomfortable, but it's perfectly typical for you two by now, and you're also so close that it's not awkward and you laugh it off. Alfred soon leaves the kitchen leaving you to to have your alone time to eat breakfast.

"nocturnal Batman Wayne never wakes up this early. Why is he up at such ungodly hours?" you giggle out breathily

"and lovely Y/N never wakes up this late either" he says sarcastically creating a smile on your face.

"I'm kidding. I just wanted to spend more time with you" the things he does to you without even knowing make you go crazy.

a timer starts to ring, the sound bouncing off the walls echoing into your ears and Bruce's, making him put down his mug and hop up to serve both of your breakfast's. While he does this you can't help but notice how Bruce is so effortlessly gorgeous, his muscly back and strong, veiny arms working on the breakfast defined by the black material of his short sleeved t-shirt. He draws you out of your thoughts when he spins around with two plates full of delicious food, he places the plate on the counter top infront of you and says; paying attention to your reaction.

"eat up, bub" your heart stats throbbing in love and passion for him with the overdose of adorable pet names recently. And Bruce sees this. His theories start to pile in as to why this is happening but he can't think of a reasonable answer.

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

"Bruce, the shower's free." you call out stepping out of the steamy bathroom with wet hair and fresh smelling skin.

"Thanks, kitten" he says creating a blush on your cheeks involuntarily. Bruce feels a sense of pride when he created this effect on you and plans on keeping the game going until he cracks why you're out of it today.

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

you're washing the dishes from earlier that day in the kitchen as Bruce is tidying everything else in the room. the sudsy water fills the sink to the brim so you must be quick in grabbing the next cup behind you on the kitchen island. As soon as you turn around Bruce is walking past you with the coffee jar in hand and you bump straight into his chest creating some bubbles on his shirt. Guilt washes over your face as you look up at him going to apologise for your silly actions.

"oh my god. I'm so sorry" staring at the mess you made just below your eye level.

"don't worry about it, doll" he says with a tiny smile placing his hand on your shoulder for a moment for reassurance before continuing his task. You try to go back to washing the dishes but you drop one in the water mid way through scrubbing it as you are still flustered about the name situation. And boy does Bruce take pride in that. In what he doesn't know yet as he doesn't know why he has been making you react like this all day. But still.

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

"Will you hand me the remote please? I can't hear the TV" his voice asks sweetly from beside you bringing you out of your thoughts. you grab the remote from the side table to your right and hand it over to him with a smile.

"Thanks, pumpkin" That one. that was it. you keep staring at his face for a few moments while trying to come up with an explanation for why you're reacting like this to simple name calling. Bruce senses your look and turns his head gently staring back at you with furrowed brows. He goes to ask you 'what's wrong' or 'is there something on my face?' but it suddenly clicks for him.

"it's the names isn't it?" he says disbelief but also humour. turning his whole body to face your frame on the couch next to him.

"hm- what? What are the names?" you ask flustered since he did just discover what you have been trying to hide.

"you enjoy them. You like when I call you Love, or sweets or kitten. Don't you?" a wide smile making its way onto your face. You simply don't have the time to think for an exuse so you just blurt out whatever it is that you have in mind at the moment.

"No. what are you talking about, that's weird why would I like that? only couples call eachother those things- we are not a couple, Bruce" you ramble on as he licks the inside of his cheek with a cheeky grin planted on this face still.

"you're such a bad liar" he giggles out breath-ily.

"I'm not lying about anything" you say hearing the lies in your tone. Fuck sake why are you giving this away?!

"oh... well. If you did like them I'd call you whatever you wanted me to." he says lower, more gravelly and.... seductively? whilst turning back to face the TV screen. You didn't know how to take that or how to react, but either way you were just frozen. he glances back sneakily to see the expression on your face.

"ahah! you love them. awhhh That's so adorable" he exclaims triumphantly squealing sarcastically like a teenage girl when they meet their celebrity crush.

"you're out of your mind"

"am I, darling?" he retorts with an amused grin on his face. fuck sake. is he teasing you?

"shut up, you bastard"

"oooh. I like that one, pup" you glare at him. the same smirk planted on his face.

"I said. shut.up."

"you're gonna have to make me, babe" HES FUCKING TEASING YOU. the only way to go is to tease him back.

"are you trying to get in my pants, Wayne?"

"maybe I am, Ms."

"well you're gonna have to play nice then. although I'm sure you have your ways of getting what you want, babes" you reply trying to throw him off his little shit act.

"oh, petal. You have no idea." he says, his eyes flickering to your lips for a moment.

"no. I actually think it's kind of cute that you like them" he says quietly and genuinely smiling this time. "come here, sweets" he says motioning his fingers in a 'come here' motion and scooting over on the couch a small bit making more room for you. The heartfelt smile on his face right now matches nothing you have ever seen before on his face. it's adorable. you love this side of Bruce, not that you didn't like the other sides, but this was rare and god, could you get used to it.

[mid-weast]

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

[takaraphoenix]

Ship game!! What about Nico and Will?? It’s pretty popular, but I don’t think I’ve seen you write much of it…

That's an interesting one in that I have vocalized my reasons for disliking it way back when it first became popular but instead of just linking that, it has been years so I think it's time for an updated version.

Firstly: This post is gonna be properly tagged and not crosstagged so if any shipper comes across it and feels the need to bitch about it, just don't; your lack of curating your own tumblr experience is not my problem! ;D

Now, there are three key factors that play into my dislike of this ship: How it was written, what it represents, how the fandom around it acts.

1. It’s rushed and uncomfortable

In BoO, it was incredibly rushed. They had literally five sentences of interactions before they walked into the literal sunset together. Five. It was just entirely born from Riordan's Noah's Ark Complex, where he just can't let people be single. The series was ending and he needed Nico to have an endgame so he rushed into some random romance with zero build-up.

The way their interactions went down was also severely uncomfortable for me. Will was acting so offended by Nico not wanting to go to camp and be friends in an entitled way that he had no right to be, he downright guilt-tripped Nico about how he had wanted to be friends. Nico has been just so severely traumatized at such a young age and his coping mechanism, as unhealthy as it was, was to run away and hide. Will acted like Nico not wanting to form attachments to people who could potentially leave him again was somehow just an Edgy Emo Decision and not a direct reaction to his trauma. His entire approach to Nico was basically all these hippie posts of "Don't have depression!! Just go out into the sun and stop being depressed!", which is already a bad take with non-medical people but he's supposed to be a doctor (and let's not get into the shadiness of him technically being Nico's doctor).

There is also an inherent "I can fix him" angle to this ship and to me, only few ship dynamics are more uncomfortable than that. If you want to fundamentally change a person's behavior and personality, you... don't actually want to be with this person.

Now, here's where my points overlap, because the following parts of their writing that bothers me also stand for what this ship fundamentally represents.

2. Solangelo is a queer ship written by and for straights

I'm a queer woman and as a queer woman, I want queer wish-fulfillment, not what straights want out of queerness. I'm kind of tired of that, I've been sitting through it for enough decades now. That's, of course, not to say that no straight writer can give proper queer representation, but far too often do straight writers - even the most well-meaning ones - project straight desires of queerness into their queer representation.

Let me explain that closer through this ship.

Nico's been in love with Percy for years and I'm going to do my best to not hijack this post with some Percico agenda; that's not what this his about, this isn't some "my ship is better than your ship" ship-war nonsense. It's simply a canonical fact that Nico has had romantic feelings for another character for years.

A character who, in this medium, is heterosexual. And if you're queer, you've been there. In love with your straight best friend. It's a cliche, but it's a cliche for a reason.

We have also all been well-meaningly rejected by said straight friend.

And here's the straight desires for you: The queer person who was in love with a straight person just immediately stops having those feelings and will then as quickly as possible fall in love with the next queer person they meet to be happy and no longer uncomfortably in love with a straight person, because that thought makes the straights uncomfortable.

Queer wish-fulfillment would be for Percy to return those feelings, for the queer character to get his first love, to not be rejected. That thing queer teens always dreamed about for themselves.

Aside from the wish-fulfillment angle, the pacing is another problem. Let me repeat, Nico was in love for years. But a five sentence conversation with Will once causes a crush on Will and we see him physically turn away from Percy and toward Will just immediately to rebound and actually fall out of love with Percy and in love with Will. Anyone who's ever been unlucky in love will attest to just how unrealistic and ridiculous the pacing here is.

It's also straight queerness in another respect; Nico has been the first ever queer character we meet in that world. He loves a straight guy - and to get over that, we introduce the second queer character. Because heaven forbid there are multiple queers to pick from. No, in straight-written queer romances, there is always that one main queer and then they introduce a second one and the two just immediately hit it off and develop a romance like all a queer person needs to form attraction to someone is the confirmation that the other person shares your sexuality.

Also the notable gay guy on gay guy ship here, whereas the more queer-wish-fulfillment option would have also included more nuance to the queer experience, because Percy doesn't have to be heterosexual just because he has only been with girls so far. It's a very old-fashioned - think 90s and early 2000s - kind of straight-written queerness that there are only exactly two homosexuals and that those two homosexuals then pair up.

And, listen, I'm not immune to these outdated straight-written queers entirely, I have many such ships that I grew up with that I am still fond of because they were groundbreaking at that time and they weren't outdated yet back when they happened in said 90s and early 2000s. I am however a grown woman now and just like I have grown, so has queer rep so I am not as easily baited into falling onto my knees in gratitude for canon rep. You have to go with the times. And this ship, by all that is given to us, is just entirely outdated straight-written rep.

Which, I mention earlier that even straight-written rep can be good. If the author tries. Riordan doesn't really try though; he does the bare minimum when he writes any of his rep - and there have been many, many more qualified voices being very vocal about his depiction of people of color and, as a woman, I've been vocal about his depiction of women. I don't want to derail this post with all of that, but I do think that it bears mentioning that Riordan doing rep but only doing a bare minimum and not putting in the necessary work to deepen the representation he wants to give is a repeating pattern that has been pointed out many times by now.

(I’d also like to point out that no, it is not just the ship and not just the listed instances that make it straight-written rep for straights. It’s Nico’s entire queer arc, starting with his forced coming out. A severely traumatizing event that is completely brushed over because the straight author doesn’t understand the impact this has on queer people. Not to mention the framework; Nico’s coming out isn’t Nico’s story, it happens in Jason’s POV, it is given to us through the POV of the straight bystander who gets to be Best Ally by assuring Nico that being gay is okay. This kind of coming out is not a queer wish-fulfillment, it’s a straight wish-fulfillment of getting to be the straight savior, the ally to show the gay the light of acceptance. And, additional to the ridiculous pacing of how fast Nico gets over his love for Percy, Nico also gets over years of internalized homophobia just because of, I don’t know, Jason’s few encouraging words and the fact that Will paid attention to him? For a gay kid who was in the closet all his life, the nonchalant way in which he publicly confessed his crush to Percy at the end made absolutely no sense and was written as basically a joke, finished off with Nico literally high-fiving Percy’s girlfriend despite those two never having seen eye to eye before but this is straight wish-fulfillment so all straights are Super Allies, because that’s the way straights want to see themselves, even though Annabeth has shown before just how jealous she can be and she most definitely wouldn’t go around high-fiving people who confess to her boyfriend. Nothing about Nico’s queer arc in HoO felt natural or queer or satisfying.)

Sure, Solangelo on a surface level is big because it's a canon queer couple in a YA book-series and kudos for that and yay for the kids who get to grow up seeing queers in YA books, but I actually do think that kids growing up with books written in the 2010s shouldn't grow up with 1990s levels of representation, because the 2010s overall are actually at a far more nuanced and better level of representation when it comes to queerness. And I do reserve the right to quit on too straight-written and too outdated queer rep in a landscape where I can get more satisfying representation elsewhere; we don’t live in times anymore where you necessarily have to love every bit of rep because it’s the only one you get.

Now that we've gone through my first two gripes, let's wrap this up with the final point, because it also directly ties into this.

3. The new wave of antis hiding behind this ship

A huge part of the fandom is so busy kissing Riordan's ass solely for giving them queer rep at all they think that both the author and the ship are beyond flawless and that kind of attitude is not good. Just because an author includes rep doesn't make either perfect. Absolutely no one is beyond critique - especially not when said critique comes from the very people the author is representing. And even beyond any "valid" critique on the ship, quite frankly, someone should also be allowed to just not like it, without any reasons given at all.

But there is a certain... protective obsessiveness about this ship that doesn't allow a not liking. Very similar to how PJO bore this mindset around Perc/abeth already. It's okay to have OTPs, even OTPs that you have a blindspot for and just don't want to see any flaws in. It is however not okay to then go around attacking people who don't like the thing and mind their own business.

Solangelo's bred a new generation of antis in this fandom. And, particularly with the fact that this post too receives an "anti" tag, I feel like there needs to be a clarification (because tumblr likes to forget what actually makes an anti). Not liking something doesn't make you an anti, venting in properly tagged posts doesn't either; it's the people who harass others, who seek out the content they dislike to then complain that it even exists and who actively try to make others stop creating for it - those are antis.

And with Solangelo's popularity, there was a high rise in Percico antis, who sought it out, were unnecessarily nasty about it, harrassed creators and tried to enforce some kind of "Solangelo supremacy" that won't allow other ships for the characters.

I've been in fandom long enough to be perfectly aware that not all Solangelo shippers count into this category and that there are completely normal and nice Solangelo shippers, but this is a Venn diagram where the overlap between Solangelo shippers and antis is too large to not widely associate the nasty people with the ship itself. (I've been there myself, shipping the very ship behind which a fandom's antis all hid. The second-hand embarrassment of having these people give the ship a bad name is horrendous and I do feel bad for all the normal Solangelo shippers.)

The more often I encountered these people, who made Percico bad (sometimes in wildly ridiculous manners that bent and deliberately misinterpreted canon) and who in the same breath praised Solangelo high, the more tired I grew of that ship. It's a simple game of association, really. You see that linked to the gross and nasty behavior and you start associating the ship itself with that gross and nasty behavior - and with all the things I said before that already weighed into my dislike of the ship, this just was the final tipping point, really.

And that's it. That sums up why I dislike Solangelo. It was hastily rushed, uncomfortable in its execution, it is outdated rep that very much feels as straight-written as it factually is and it does not feel aimed at me as a queer person but rather at the straight audience and it has gathered a cult following of quite uncomfortable people who on their own would be reason enough to avoid it so you can avoid them.

Send me a ship and I will explain why I do or don't ship it

[doyumacy]

hello oh my god i love ur works and i was wondering if you are accepting requests jdnnsns if so, could i requesf a haechan fwb w lots of nipple aucking oh shit bye.

𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸

ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (fwb)

ɢɪꜰ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ᴍ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx) ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,9k

pt 2. here 

It’s been five hours since Donghyuck received that message, and five minutes since you have been standing outside your dorm, hesitant to knock.

Once you finally do, the door opens within 3 seconds, you don’t get a chance to react before you're pulled inside and shoved against the door, a pair of lips immediately plastering itself against yours.

You're taken aback, obviously, but this isn’t the first time so there’s no reason to be alarmed.

You kiss back, leaning towards Donghyuck, hands going up to wrap around his shoulders. When he pulls away, you're both panting, staring at each other intensely.

“I missed you.” Donghyuck says.

You blink. "It's been only 3 days."

Donghyuck breaks the distance, pulling you towards the bed. “I had a rough day today.” He says, kissing your neck. You squirm, trying to hold back a moan.

He is peppering your skin with light kisses before climbing on top of you, hovering over him.

“Make me feel better?” Donghyuck asks gently, hand going up to cradle your face.

You and Donghyuck aren't dating, in fact, you've known Donghyuck for around 5 years. You are what everyone calls 'best friends' but one night everything changed: you two were at a party and ended up getting wasted and eventually got horny. It didn't take you two long before going to his car and fucking in the back to then continue in his dorm.

You nod in response, immediately leaning up to connect your lips to his.

The kiss goes from soft and gentle, to a more hungry and passionate one. Donghyuck shifts his hips downwards, crotch rubbing against yours. You let out a moan that you were trying to keep in.

His hand goes from beside your head to your body, trailing down from your chest to your shirt, removing your turtleneck sweater.

You rut his hips against Donghyuck eliciting a groan from the taller.

Once your turtleneck sweater is gone, Donghyuck puts a hand on you and his palm is meeting with the fabric of your bra. He pauses, pulling away from the kiss slightly and smiles at you. “Went shopping?”

You bite your lip nodding. “I knew you'd like it.”

He bites your lip, pulling it away with his teeth. "I love it."

You lean forward so he can help you to take off your bra, and once it's gone, he places his hands on your breasts. "Fuck, I love these. They're so pretty."

You shiver, Donghyuck gives gentle kisses on them.

Every time you fuck it’s never rushed or rough, always slow and passionate, and it just makes the sex way better.

Your hands move to the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off him and tossing it to the floor along with yours. You stare for a split second, at Donghyuck's broad shoulders and toned arms. He's beautiful.

Donghyuck connects his lips against to yours and it’s a mess of tongues. He takes your hand in his and puts it on his body, letting you run your palm down his chest and abs. He lets out a groan, feeling your soft caresses on his body. Your hand goes lower, to the waistband of Donghyuck's sweatpants and he can hear you gasp once your hand slipped in, palming his erection.

Donghyuck groans and ruts his crotch against your hand. He returns the favour to you, palming his erection over your jeans. You shudders, holding back a moan.

He traces his tongue around your left nipple, barely touching it, and just building up to the act. His tracing circle gets tighter and tighter until he is finally giving proper attention to the nipple. You moan arching your back so he could have more access to your nipples.

Tonguing your nipple, and then blowing gently on it, waiting for it to stiffen. The pace he is going out is making you tremble with the need for more, everything is just so slow. Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking, sucking, then blowing, keeping his eyes focused on the task. When you start to breathe more heavily, he encloses his lips over the nub and sucks hard. Your back arches again, as Donghyuck sucks now your right nipple, pulling it away with his teeth to harden it further, then goes back to sucking it again, and biting. You close your eyes groaning and shift your legs and rubbing them together to create some friction to appease the itch to his cock, which had been straining against the zipper of his jeans.

You move your hands down, trying to reach your pussy and give yourself some form of relief, when Donghyuck stops completely. He grabs both of your wrists angling away from your body and over your head, he holds onto them with one hand. Donghyuck with the other hand free, he brings it down to pinch the abused left right. It throbs, its puffed red and wet appearance an aching sight, and you can't help but moan when he presses the pad of his index finger right over the tip, pressing down hard.

Your legs keep shifting, and that is when Donghyuck's knees come between your legs to stop any form of friction from happening. You try to push yourself down, to get any form of contact other than that on your chest, but Donghyuck won't touch him.

Donghyuck alternates between the two nipples, sucking one and pinching the other, pressing the red angry tip with the pad of his fingers, then he grabs and squeezes around your right nipple, gathering the flesh towards his mouth and bit down hard. You scream, your sensitized nipple aching and the burn is pleasure that bordered on pain.

“Hyuck! S-stop, no more... fuck!”

Donghyuck smirks around one nipple, and presses two fingers inside your mouth. You, in your persistent need for release, just suck on the fingers obediently, when Donghyuck pulls them out, coats them with your saliva and rubs them on the abused nipple.

Donghyuck kisses your lips and his fingers go up to unbutton your jeans and unzip it agonisingly slowly. He pulls the restraining fabric off your legs, leaving you bare with just your matching underwear.

He sits up and pulls off his own sweatpants before going back to you on the bed.

You decide to take charge this time, pushing him onto his back and climbing over him. You move downwards, till your face is aligned with his hips. You slowly kiss the line above Donghyuck's boxers slowly, trailing down the v line. You pull down his boxers bit by bit, kissing every inch of exposed skin. Once you reach low enough, you pull off Donghyuck's boxers entirely, freeing his erection.

You start by kissing the tip, trailing down his member slowly. Donghyuck lets out a sigh, hand slowly reaching down to curl itself into your hair.

Without warning, you take his entire length into your mouth, head bobbing up and down. Taken aback, Donghyuck yanks on your hair and lets out a loud moan. You look up at Donghyuck with his member still in your mouth, only to find him staring back at you.

“Fucking shit,” Donghyuck lets out an even louder moan.

He stops you, feeling himself almost reaching his point. Donghyuck pulls you up in a messy kiss, you laying flat against his body. His hands slips from your waist to your panties, slipping underneath to cup your ass. You groan into the kiss, hand gripping his shoulder.

Donghyuck breaks the kiss, reaching forward to his bedside table for the condom. He passes it to you and you wrap his cock. He then flips over so you are under him again. He pulls your panties boxers off, discarding it on the floor beside the bed.

“Ready?” He looks up at you for permission before carrying on. You nod and he inserts his first finger into you.

You gasp and grab at the sheets. He starts moving his finger at a steady pace, you moan in return, gripping at the sheets harder.

“Ah... fuck Hyuck,” Donghyuck inserts a second finger without warning, making your back arch.

You moan shamelessly as Donghyuck continues moving his fingers and stretching you out. When Donghyuck inserts the third finger, you start to see stars. You let out the loudest moan you have let out thus far, quickly biting your lip to shut himself.

Donghyuck pauses, he looks up to your distressed expression. “What are you doing? Don’t stop.” You whine.

He smirks, going to kiss you shortly. “Let me hear them.” He whispers into your ear, watching you squirm below him.

When Donghyuck moves his fingers again, you don’t hold back, but you try to keep your volume to a minimum in case you disturb the neighbours.

Once Donghyuck feels that you're ready, he pulls his fingers out. You mewl at the loss of contact and arch up, hoping for some sort of contact with him. Donghyuck climbs over you, so that he’s hovering over you, both faces aligned with each other.

Donghyuck aligns his member with your entrance and takes you in an open mouth kiss to distract you before he slides in. You moan out mid-kiss, back arching, leaning up towards him.

"Fuck, I've been fucking you daily, why are you still so tight?" He hisses.

He chooses that moment to thrust his hips forward, catching you off guard.

“Fuck! Hyu-“

Donghyuck then picks up his pace, thrusting in and out in.

“Fuck, baby,” Donghyuck moans out, burying his face in your neck. He presses his lips to your collarbone, kissing and sucking at a certain spot, making you gasp out, there's too many things going on at once. You wrap a hand around his back, gripping at this back.

Donghyuck quicks his pace. “Donghyuck. Hyuck.Hyuck." You chant his name out in pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure, feeling warmth pooling in your stomach. You're close, you can tell Donghyuck's close too with the way his hips start to go faster, god bless his stamina.

Donghyuck comes first, shooting into the condom whilst inside you. That made you tip over the edge.

Donghyuck pulls out and pecks you on the cheek before he gets up to clean. You're too tired to move, staying in the same position trying to catch your breath.

He grabs a towel afterwards, cleaning himself up and you before putting on his boxers and going back to bed beside you, handing you one of his shirts. You put it on and sit on the bed. "Can we order something to eat? I'm starving." You say.

Donghyuck grimaces. "I actually have plans with the guys in half an hour..."

"Yeah... right. Then I should go," you get up from the bed looking for your clothes.

"But see you tomorrow?" Donghyuck looks at you.

"Sure."

He looks at you getting dressed and after you're ready, you grab your backpack and turn to Donghyuck who pouts and pulls you by the belt hoop of your jeans. He wraps his arms around your waist. “No goodbye kiss?”

You give in to Donghyuck's pout, lean down and cup his face before planting a kiss on his lips. You break the kiss walking to the door.

“I’ll call you?” He calls out from where he is standing.

You nod and wave goodbye before leaving his dorm. Once you're out the door, you lean against the wall, clutching your chest.

It hurts.

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Needed You Pt.2

Word Count: 1,864

Characters: Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Derek Hale (brief), Reader

Pairings: Isaac Lahey x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight TW: mentions of abuse but nothing too graphic, small fluff

A/N: okay so like the ending was low-key rushed cuz i was losing inspo but would anyone care for a better part three?

Masterlist    Link to Part One

You sighed softly, resting your head against your locker as you winced slightly, feeling your ribs aching. The last time you talked to Isaac was nearly a month ago, and things hadn’t gotten any better for you. Your uncle’s problem only got worse, you didn't know what you should have expected. 

You were more than exhausted, you wanted to look for some way out, but couldn't. Everything became more and more difficult.

You sighed softly, closing your eyes before sniffling. You grabbed your books and closed the locker, backing away as you bumped into Isaac, jumping slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately saw the red in his face as you clenched your jaw, noticing something was wrong. 

Even after all that time apart, you couldn't say that you didn't care about him, and couldn't read him. You could tell something was up.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said softly.

That was the first time you had spoken to him in a while, the first time he spoke to you.

You walked past him, holding your books to your chest. 

---

“I’m home,” you called once you entered the house, your eyes immediately watering from the stench of alcohol mixed with something you presumed to be drugs.

You ran your fingers through your hair, walking up to your room and shutting the door behind you. You didn't have much time to move in, most of your stuff was left at your old house, and the rest was still in boxes. You never fully unpacked.

You dropped your bag on the floor, picking up an old shoebox filled with pictures. You knew nothing in that box was going to be good for you, only causing you more and more pain than you were already in.

You looked through all the pictures, sitting on your bed as tears filled your eyes. Everything was so peaceful and happy for both of you then. Your mothers were still alive, you were still on talking terms. Every time he passed you in the hall, you could feel a part of you dying.

You looked through another box that you kept under your bed, labeled Isaac. It was a box of memories and materials the two of you shared. 

You noticed a small stuffed animal, you had a panda while he had a bear, with each other's initials carved into the feet. You looked at all the crappy artwork the two of you had done as kids while you let out a soft laugh, sniffling.

You stumbled past a small birthday present that you made for him earlier this year, but never had the chance to give it to him. It was a mini photo book, with pictures of the two of you. 

More and more tears welled up in your eyes as you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

You just wanted a break, you just wanted to go back.

You heard a loud noise as your heart jumped, opening your eyes as you stuffed everything in the box, throwing it back under the bed.

You could hear a few things dropping, meaning your uncle was awake. You dried your tears, quickly running out of your room and going to him.

---

“Scott, I have listened to everything you said and all I can feel is (Y/N) drifting further away from me!” Isaac groaned, leaning against the locker in the locker room.

“You're getting my advice mixed up with Stiles. I told you to just talk to her again, and apologize and be there for her,” Scott sighed.

“Every time I try to talk to her, she just gives me that look and next thing I know, I’m walking the other way,” Isaac explained.

“Well, then you need to push past those nerves and build up the strength to talk to her. Why don't you sit next to her during class or something?” Scott suggested.

Isaac sighed, before nodding.

“Fine. But if this doesn't work-”

“It will. Come on, the bell’s about to ring,” Scott put his lacrosse equipment into his locker before the two of them walked out of the room.

---

You sat in the car, looking at the bruises on your face as you clenched your jaw, letting out a soft breath. You just had to make it through the day, and then it was the weekend.

You grabbed your bag, exiting your car when you heard the bell ring, meaning you were late for class, but you didn't care at that point.

Meanwhile, Isaac sat at the table, looking around for you. Chemistry was one of your favorite subjects, he knew you would never be late on purpose. He could feel slight worry in his chest, as he heard the bell go off. A few seconds later, you walked through the door, while Isaac tensed up, immediately taking notice of your bruises and dimmed appearance.

You looked around the classroom, finding the only empty seat next to Isaac.

“C-Can I,” you started while he nodded his head.

You wrapped your arm around your stomach, closing your eyes tightly and taking a deep breath. Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You could feel Isaac's stares on you while you tried to keep your focus on the board in front of you. The tensions were definitely high.

You could hear a small grunt as you looked at Isaac, seeing him gripping on the table hard as you frowned.

He let go of the table, grabbing his bag before storming out, earning confusion from the rest of the class. You saw Scott quickly get up, running after him.

---

“Isaac, calm down!” Scott said he was pushing Isaac back, holding him against the showers.

“They have bruises! (Y/N) has bruises! Their uncle is hurting them!” he yelled. His eyes were glowing yellow, while Scott kept him under the water, trying to calm him down.

“I know, Isaac! But you have to keep it under control! I know there’s a full moon tonight but you need to keep yourself under control or else you’ll end up hurting (Y/N)!” Scott yelled.

“I’ve been hurting them! I was supposed to be there for them, and be their best friend! All I've done in the past months is hurt them! I just want (Y/N) to be safe, that's all I want,” Isaac’s eyes lost their yellow, while he slumped back, letting out a soft cry.

All the pain from losing his best friend, alone with seeing them suffer every day was hitting him hard, and all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and tell you that it would be okay like you did for him.

---

“(Y/N),” your head shot up immediately, trying to look for the source of the voice calling your name as you walked out of the library.

It was only 9, but you were too tired to deal with any creep or weirdo Beacon Hills had to offer.

You continued to walk, before a man walked in front of you, stopping you.

“You need to come with me,” he said.

You frowned, before crossing your eyes.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you scoffed.

“Just listen to me,” he replied.

“No. Who even are you?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I'm Derek Hale, I’m Isaac's legal guardian and friend, and all I can tell you is that we need your help with Isaac,” he replied.

You felt your bones shake, hearing Isaac’s name.

“Fine,” maybe it was wrong to trust the stranger who claimed he knew Isaac, but your worry overfilled you instead.

You followed him to his car, before the two of you drove off.

---

“Isaac!” Scott held Isaac down, trying to keep him still while he attempted to get the chains.

The hair had grown from Isaac’s face, his eyes glowing yellow, along with his claws visible.

You followed Derek into the abandoned train station, feeling an uneasy feeling in your heart as you heard slight yelling.

“Scott,” Derek said, putting you in front of him.

“(Y/N), hey!” Scott had a small smile on his face, while you looked confused.

You could hear someone yelling in pain, immediately recognizing Isaac’s voice as you felt your heart racing.

Isaac put his hands over his head, yelling out as he tried to block out all noises.

You saw the claws, along with his eye color as you took a deep breath. Something was wrong. You pushed aside everything, focusing on your friend that needed your help.

“I-Is that Isaac?” you asked softly, while Scott nodded his head.

He led you in front of him, while you heard Isaac whimpering. You looked up at Derek and Scott, before turning your attention back to Isaac.

“Isaac?” you said softly.

He opened his eyes, before moving back, away from you.

“Isaac, it’s me,” you said again.

You could feel the fear and panic in your chest, while you tried to remain calm. Derek explained the bare minimum of the situation, while you thought he was crazy.

“(Y/N),” he cried.

You scooted closer, while he backed away once again.

“Stay away from me! I-I don't want to hurt you again,” his cries made your chest ache while you went closer to him, stroking his cheek.

He was frozen for a second, before you saw his class retracting, the hair on his face vanishing, resembling your best friend in front of you, eyes bloodshot and broken.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, taking you by surprise as you sniffled, eyes watering before you hugged him back.

You missed him more than anything in the world.

---

“So, werewolves are real,” you shook your head, while the two of you stood outside the train station, in the company of each other.

“Yeah…(Y/N), I just have to say-”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

You both said at the same time, before Isaac shook his head.

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and that I wasn't there for you, and for acting like a dick, and just for everything,”  he said.

“No, Isaac, you didn't deserve what I said about you. I’m sorry, and I’ve just missed you, so, so much,” he gave you a soft smile before hugging you once again.

You felt a feeling of safeness and security as you buried your head on his chest.

“Can we please be best friends again,?” he asked softly.

“Yes, of course,” you let out a weak laugh, pulling away from Isaac as you wiped away your tears.

He put his hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheek softly.

“Did you uncle do that?” he asked softly.

You have him a sad smile before the word yes fell from your mouth softly.

You saw his face drop, while he shook his head.

“Let me help you. We can get you out of there, and-” 

“No, Isaac,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)-” he started.

“I just need you to be there for me, okay?” the tears in your eyes reappeared as Isaac nodded softly.

“I love you, Lahey,” you buried your face in his arms again.

“I love you too, (Y/L/N).”

taglist:

@sonnydoesrandomshit​

@aprilfire18​

@confuscita​

@asheradamsbicep​

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life​

@eunoia-kth​

@jjjmaybank​

[yamigooops]

Break My Heart

pairing: oikawa x gn!y/n genre: pure angst warnings: just angst really, I just wanted to write something sad lol words: ~2k

“Tell me you've never loved me Tell me that it wasn't real Just say you've found somebody else I wanna know the way it feels (Break my heart)” - Break My Heart by Hey Violet

a/n - time to break all your hearts, this had me tearing up while writing so hopefully it does the same to you so I'm not the only one hurting >:')

You were done, you’d had more than enough. You lay in bed, alone, for the fourth night in a row, waiting for your boyfriend of two and a half years to come home, and you were sick of it. Reaching over to turn on the light beside the bed, you picked up your phone to check the time. Almost 2 am. He should have been home an hour ago at the very latest.

With a huff, you threw the sheets off your body, sitting up. You rested your forehead in your hands, elbows braced against your knees. What else could you do? You’d told him so many times you’d lost track that he needed to try harder, that you needed more from him if this relationship was going to work. But he always brushed you off, assuring you that things would get better.

But they weren’t.

You sent a text to your best friend, knowing they’d be up at this time anyway, and asked if you could come to spend the night. You wanted him to know how it felt to go to fall asleep in an empty bed, just like you had done so often lately. Receiving an affirmative text from your friend, you rose and started to pack a bag for tomorrow.

Your mind raced. Did he even want to be in this relationship anymore? Did you? He had been putting in the minimum effort as of late, spending the vast majority of his time at training or going out with his friends and teammates. It seemed he had more time for everyone other than you, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You almost wanted him to end it, almost wanted to get in a fight about it just to have him show anything other than nonchalance about the situation.

You had been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t heard him come in, unaware of his presence until he opened the bedroom door. “Y/N? What are you doing up so late?” The smooth silk of his voice shocked you in the silence of the room, making you whirl around to face him.

There he was, Oikawa, in all his glory. His tanned skin bore a sheen of sweat, and his chocolate hair was mussed, from the wind or something else you had no clue. He looked worn out, though that could have been from practice or going out to the club. You wouldn’t know, since this was the first you’d seen of him since he left this morning to go to practice.

You clutched the sweatshirt you were holding to your chest, subconsciously shrinking back from the tall man. You weren’t expecting him to come home until after you had left, now it would be all that much harder to leave. “Um, hi Oikawa,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. “I’m going over to Y/F/N’s place for the night.” You were surprised you got the words out, almost caving at the thought of getting to spend even a little time with your boyfriend, even if it was at two in the morning.

“Why would you do that?” He cocked his head, looking genuinely confused. A small pout formed on his features, and you could tell he was genuinely a bit upset about it.

“Well, I-“ you broke off, not knowing what to say. “We were talking, and they invited me over, and since you weren’t back yet I thought I would go,” you lied. You weren’t sure why you did though, the angry part of you said you should have just told him flat out that you were upset with him. But the peacemaker in you won out, unwilling to cause a fight where it wasn’t necessary.

“But it’s a weeknight, why wouldn’t you just wait until the weekend? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He set his gym bag down on the bed, unzipping it to remove his dirty clothes from practice.

You gulped, mind flying as you came up with a cover. “They, uh, they’re having a bit of a breakdown right now, I was going to go over help them calm down.” You resumed packing your bag, placing each article of clothing inside carefully as you felt his eyes on your back.

“C’mon,” he whined. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week, can’t you just stay? We can cuddle. Usually, you’re asleep by the time I get home, so I’ve been missing out.” The pout was back in full force as he came up behind you to snake his arms around your midriff. He placed a kiss on the back of your head before resting a cheek on your hair.

“Yeah, we’ve barely seen each other all week,” you reiterated, something igniting in your chest. “And whose fault would that be?” The words came out before you could stop them, sharp as knives.

He stiffened against you, arms loosening. “Y/N, I have practice every day but Sundays, you know that,” he replied, a bit defensively.

You pulled out of his grasp, picking up your bag and placing it on the bed. “Yeah, and what about when your practice is over? Hmm? Where do you go then? From 6 to 2 in the morning?” You couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling over, your chest burning with it. Now that you’ve started, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Are you just hanging out with your friends instead of your girlfriend? Are you going out to the clubs?” Your tone was pure venom as angry tears welled in your eyes. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you hissed out the last thought in your mind. “Are you seeing someone else?”

He gaped at you, lips parted and eyes wide as he comprehended what you had said. “Am I- what?!” His voice raised at the end in indignation. “You think I’m cheating on you? You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“What else am I supposed to think when I’ve gone to bed alone for the last four nights in a row?” You cried, tears blurring your vision. “Torū, I’ve barely seen you at all this week, tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious too!”

He froze, eyebrows coming together slowly. “No, I don’t think I would be,” he defended. “I have quite a bit of faith in you, and it hurts me to know that you have so little in me.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. You brought your hands up to press the heels into your eyes, hoping to do something to relieve the pressure building behind them.

“My point isn’t to call you a cheater, Torū, all I meant by that was that I have no idea what you’re out doing because you don’t talk to me!” Your voice grew thick with emotion, face growing flush as you raised your arms up to clasp your forearms above your head, eyes still screwed shut.

“Y/N, I’ve just been spending time with the team, that’s all,” he replied exasperatedly, and you heard the soft thump of his clothes falling into the hamper. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, but there are other important people in my life besides you!”

His words left you silent, and you opened your eyes to look at the ceiling, head tilting back slightly. The lump in your throat grew, making it unbearable to swallow back the tears that slipped from the corners of your eyes.

“If they’re all so important,” you whispered, “then maybe you don’t need me anymore.” You released your arms, letting them fall to your sides as you came to meet his gaze. The sight almost shattered your heart.

He looked at you like a lost child, mouth agape and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Were those tears in his eyes? You couldn’t tell from the distance between you. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “So… what are you saying Y/N? Hmm? Because I’m not sure at this point,” he breathed, eyes meeting yours and filled with emotion.

You took a moment to get your thoughts in order before responding. “I guess what I’m saying is-” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue. Could you continue with this relationship? Were you happy with him anymore? “I want you to break my heart. It’s already on its last leg and I just need you to cut the last strings because I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

There was a look of pure agony in his eyes. His hands went limp at his sides, and his shoulders fell. “Y/N I-” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t think I can do that." He took a step toward you, then another, until he stood just a few inches away, looking like he wanted to wrap his arms around you but refraining. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

All you wanted was rest your head against his chest, cry into the soft fabric of his shirt and act like you were still in love with him. But you couldn’t, not anymore. “I was scared that if I talked to you about it, then that would make it real,” you whispered into the space between, eyes stuck on the collar of his shirt and unable to meet his.

There was a pause, silence overcoming the two of you and thickening the air around you. You could practically hear his brain working to come up with a response that wouldn’t kill you, and you almost broke and fell against him. But you didn’t, couldn’t.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to break your heart,” he murmured, words smooth and soft. “But if you need me to cut whatever ties you have left, I’ll do it, even though it kills me. Whatever you need, I’ll do, even if it means I have to lose you.”

It was then that you gathered the courage to meet his eyes, and the moment you did you regretted it. Tears slid down his angled face, shining in the soft light of the lamp. Your heart crumpled, nearly unable to handle the fact that you were doing this to him.

You allowed yourself to reach up and rest your hands on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” your thumbs ran beneath his eyes in a useless attempt to wipe away his sadness. “I never want to hurt you, but this just isn’t working anymore, and my heart can’t take it. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, eyes shut, and lower lip drawn between his teeth. His hands came to rest lightly on your hips, fingers wrapping into the material of your shirt. “I know, I know,” he assured you softly. “Things haven’t been the best between us lately, I know that now, but still-” Your hands snaked around his neck, effectively pulling him closer. His lips came to press against your forehead, and the feeling almost made you melt into him. “I’ll always love you Y/N, but if you need me to cut ties, I’ll cut them.”

The feeling of his breath against your skin brought on a fresh wave of tears as you nodded. “Thank you, Torū,” you murmured, fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for everything, I mean it.”

He sighed, pulling you against his chest as his arms encircled you fully. “I know, Y/N, you’re welcome.”

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[makeste]

is it too late now to say sorry

anon I agree with almost all of this for the most part, but if you don’t mind I would like to come to Kacchan’s defense here a little bit. while he absolutely does need to apologize to Izuku, there are reasons why he hasn’t done so yet which boil down to a lot more than simply “he’s still a dick.”

anyway, so for my next trick, I will take the thesis statement of “Kacchan is afraid to apologize to Deku for both selfish and unselfish reasons, and Deku doesn’t realize how much he needs to hear the apology because he pays no attention to his own needs”, and somehow transform that into a 3500 word rant lol.

first of all, I’ve said this before, but on the topic of whether or not Katsuki actually needs to apologize to Deku at all, my answer is an emphatic “yes.” is it necessary in order for him to earn Deku’s forgiveness? no. in fact I’m pretty sure Deku has already forgiven him. because that kid doesn’t have a petty bone in his body (not that wanting an apology from your friend who basically turned on you and made your life miserable for ten years and told you to go kill yourself is in any way petty at all), and because he has staunchly held on to what he could of their relationship throughout that entire time, hoping that one day they could somehow be friends again. Kacchan never stopped being “Kacchan” to him. Deku never stopped caring about him. and that goes beyond him simply being a good person; there’s also just an attachment there, for lack of a better word, that he is simply unwilling to give up. their friendship is that important to him. Kacchan is that important to him.

but just because Katsuki is almost guaranteed forgiveness from Izuku doesn’t mean the apology isn’t still owed. putting aside that it’s really the least he could do, I think an apology is also necessary in order for their friendship to ever move past the level it’s currently stuck at, for one simple reason: Izuku doesn’t actually know that Katsuki cares.

more specifically, he doesn’t know that Katsuki actually cares about him. because Katsuki, for various reasons which I’ll get to momentarily, has done such a spectacular job of hiding this fact that he even fooled a lot of us for a very long time. before chapter 284 came along, there was hardly any evidence at all that Katsuki actually cared about Izuku as a person beyond just the requisite, bare minimum level of “well I don’t actually want you to die or anything, because I’m not a complete shithead.”

because he hides it. and he hides it on purpose, which is a mind-blowing revelation I’m still only just starting to wrap my head around. it’s an act. all of his continued hostility toward Izuku since the Endeavor internship arc -- and possibly going even further back than that; possibly going all the way back to their second Ground Beta fight -- has been an act. here he is, continuing to bitch at him at every turn and basically doing everything he can to remind Izuku that They Are Rivals And Nothing More, and he has played that role so perfectly that hardly anyone suspected what was actually going on.

he cares about Izuku. not just subconsciously on a level where he’s in denial about it, but to a fully conscious and aware degree. he’s dedicated himself to helping Izuku as his way of trying to make amends. that’s a decision he consciously made, something he’s given a lot of thought to. he worries about Izuku. he worries about his selflessness and his recklessness and that one day he’ll take it too far and it will go terribly wrong. he worries about One For All and All For One, and about the legacy his friend has inherited that’s so much bigger than him, and which he knows Izuku won’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for if it ever comes to that. he worries. he cares.

and Izuku does not know this. and he deserves to know this. and that’s why the apology is so important. not because it’s a magic sentence that will miraculously restore the ten years of friendship and trust that was lost between them, or heal the ten years of pain and misery that Izuku went through alone and friendless, because nothing can ever restore or heal that. as a gesture, an apology is nice, but it’s also fairly useless, at least on its own. it’s meaningless without action to support it, and rather pales in significance when held up against the LITERAL DECADE of misery that it’s trying to make up for.

but the reason it’s still so, so important in spite of all this is because Izuku doesn’t know that Katsuki cares about him. he doesn’t know that their friendship isn’t just one-sided. he does know that Katsuki is a good person, and that he has a good core beneath his prickly exterior. and he’s more adept than most people at seeing past Katsuki’s outer shell of bullshit and understanding what lies beneath. but he has a blind spot, and that blind spot is himself.

he hasn’t made the connection between “Kacchan is a good person who cares about other people and is trying to do the right thing” to “Kacchan cares about me.” because Kacchan has been diligent in making sure that every time Izuku does start to make that connection, that he shoots it back down and disproves it as vehemently as he can.

which, just to be clear, is actually a huge load of bull, as we now know. huh.

but anyway. the point is that Katsuki is still hiding this part of himself from Izuku. the fact that he actually cares. the fact that their friendship is reciprocated on a level that goes beyond just rivalry and shared secrets and a mutual admiration for All Might. Izuku doesn’t know yet how much Katsuki cares about him, and he deserves to know.

and that’s why the apology is important. not because the words themselves are important, but because he deserves to know that Katsuki is sorry. he deserves to know that Katsuki cares about him. he deserves to know that he’s valued, that Katsuki sees him as someone who has value. he deserves that. and that, more than anything else, is why the apology is needed, and why it’s important for him to actually hear those words. because Katsuki was spot on when he said that Izuku doesn’t see himself in the way that he should, and I think he needs this to help him understand a little better just how much value he actually has.

so that’s part one of my rant! and now we move on to part two, which can basically be summarized as “okay but then WHY has Katsuki not just FUCKING APOLOGIZED TO HIM ALREADY.” because yeah, though. at the end of the day, this is all on him. and he does care, and he is sorry. so then what is still holding him back??

and that... is complicated. and it basically boils down to four things.

1. it’s insufficient.

ten years. all the way back to when they were four years old and Izuku first learned that he didn’t have a quirk. ten years of Katsuki bullying him and distancing himself from him. ten years of pain and isolation and unhappiness that Izuku absolutely did not deserve.

and yes, it ultimately stemmed from a misunderstanding, but that doesn’t make it right in the least. there’s absolutely no justification for it. Katsuki knew that it was wrong and he acted like that nonetheless. and anyone who says that Izuku in any way brought it on himself, that it’s in any way his fault or that he invited it on himself by not leaving Katsuki alone -- you can miss me with that, tbh. he was a child and he was lonely and confused and didn’t understand why his best friend had suddenly turned his back on him. this was the most vulnerable period in his life, and the person who should have had his back ended up being the person who made it even worse for him instead. and even after Izuku grew out of the so-called stalking and actually did mind his own business, and just admired Katsuki from a distance -- that still wasn’t enough to appease Katsuki either. even just the mere mention of Izuku wanting to go to U.A. was enough to set him off worse than ever before. that was absolutely not Izuku’s fault in any way, and I’m positive that even Katsuki himself would agree. Katsuki was terrible. I can’t emphasize enough just how terrible he was.

so yeah. ten years of that. and now Katsuki finally realizes just how awful it was. and he’s sorry! and he regrets it, a lot, and he wants to atone for it.

but now here’s problem number one: when you put it up in comparison to ALL OF THAT, an apology just feels overwhelmingly inadequate. almost laughably so. and Katsuki may be a bit emotionally dense (although perhaps less so than we always thought), but he’s sharp enough to realize this much, at least. it’s almost pathetic to simply try saying “I’m sorry” after all of that, and expect it to mean anything at all. it’s not enough. it’s so much not enough that I imagine he must almost feel helpless just imagining it. the weight of everything he’s done is so much, and an apology isn’t enough to undo any of it. it’s not even close.

Katsuki isn’t someone who backs down from things easily, but the sheer scale of the mistakes he’s trying to grapple with now is enough to give just about anyone pause. how do you even begin to address something like that? how can you even begin to make up for it? and Katsuki isn’t stupid, and I have to imagine that everything he saw during that first week of interning with Endeavor only cemented this for him. an apology simply isn’t enough. not for something like this.

2. it’s unfamiliar.

reason number two! and this one is a bit selfish on his part, yeah. but Katsuki is still just a kid too. and his falling out with Izuku didn’t only have a negative impact on Izuku; it hurt Katsuki as well. he lost that friendship too. he thought Izuku was looking down on him, and I’m certain that hurt him a lot more than he ever let on. if you trust someone and care about them only to have them turn on you like that (even though he got it wrong and it was ultimately all just in his head) -- that hurts. it’s not a coincidence that he became closed off and mean afterwards, and that even now he’s resistant to letting other people get close to him. for all that it was more or less self-inflicted, it still had a huge impact.

but now he’s learned that Izuku was never looking down on him at all and that he had it wrong this whole time. and as a result, he’s gotten this chance now to try and rebuild the childhood friendship that he almost destroyed. and make no mistake, this is something he wants too. it’s not just Izuku who’s grateful to have this chance to have normal interactions with the other again. this is something both of them value, and Katsuki doesn’t want to ruin it this time.

so he’s picking up where he left off! only the thing is, this involves him reverting to a blueprint that hasn’t been updated since the two of them were four years old, lol. “normal” for them is him being a bossy little snot, and Izuku happily shrugging it off with all of his limitless nerdy enthusiasm as they go about their various misadventures together. it’s a script that hasn’t changed since they were children, and one they’re both still more than content to use, but it is an outdated script nonetheless. Katsuki is playing the role that Izuku expects him to play. and it’s not like he’s being dishonest or anything like that, because that’s still him; he’s still his same old short-tempered, argumentative self, and it’s not like his personality has done a complete 180 or anything like that.

but at the same time, there’s a calmer side to him now which he is deliberately keeping hidden from Izuku because it’s off-script for them. it’s unfamiliar ground. with Izuku, he’s always been this Kacchan:

and again, it’s not like he isn’t actually that person, especially when it comes to his old rival. but at the same time, there’s another side to him that he rarely if ever lets Izuku in particular see. Izuku never sees the quiet Kacchan who avoids other people’s eyes while he fiddles with his water bottle and calmly asks questions about the OFA successors. Izuku never sees the insightful Kacchan who opens up about his own regrets and weaknesses. there’s a level of emotional intimacy, for lack of a better term, that Katsuki has been unwilling to let them cross into. and if I had to guess why, my guess would be that it’s because Katsuki is afraid that changing up the formula now will lead to unfamiliar territory which may or may not end up completely upending their relationship just as it’s starting to grow into something actually solid again.

which brings me to reason #3!

3. he’s afraid.

Katsuki already experienced what it was like to fall out with Izuku. and again, for all that he was the cause of it, and that Izuku had it much, much worse, that doesn’t change the fact that it was a pretty terrible experience for him as well.

and look, we know Katsuki is afraid of losing Izuku. that’s confirmed canon now. he actually admitted that he was worried about Izuku, and that Izuku’s tendency to recklessly disregard his own wellbeing unsettled him and made him want to keep his distance. and he sacrificed himself to save Izuku’s life!! and did it automatically, unthinkingly, because the decision-making on his part was so fast it didn’t even register. that’s how much he cares. enough that his desire to protect Izuku now ranks higher than his own self-preservation.

and when something is that important to you, you will fight not to lose it. and Katsuki does not want to lose this. Izuku is important to him. by extension that means their friendship is important to him. and he wants to preserve that.

and the thing is, the apology is an obstacle to that. and he knows it. he knows he has to face it at some point, because he can’t atone without it. he has to take responsibility for what he did. he can’t keep running away from it forever.

but he also knows the potential consequences. he knows that apologies don’t always end in reconciliation. he knows falling-outs don’t always have a happy ending. he knows that forgiveness isn’t automatic, and that years of pain don’t just disappear just like that. and he recently got to see firsthand one possible way how it might all turn out.

he knows Izuku doesn’t have to forgive him. he knows Izuku might not forgive him. and he knows that he probably doesn’t deserve Izuku’s forgiveness, and that ultimately he does not have a say in the matter one way or the other. it’s Izuku’s choice, at the end of the day, and whatever he chooses Katsuki is going to have to accept it.

but you can know all of that, and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take responsibility, and yet still be afraid to face it. and yes, maybe it’s selfish of him to feel that way. but that selfishness is also human. it’s human to fear rejection, and it’s human to go through the various stages of trying to postpone having to face that. Katsuki is a brave kid, but he is just a kid, still. and this is going to be very hard for him to do. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still have to be done. but I feel for him and I have a lot of empathy for the situation he’s currently in.

and there is also one last reason why I think he’s putting it off as well, and it just so happens that this reason actually isn’t selfish at all.

4. he doesn’t want false forgiveness.

and this one is ironically kind of at odds with reason #3! Katsuki fears the possibility of Izuku not forgiving him... but at the same time, I think that strangely enough, there’s also a part of him that fears being forgiven, just like that. easily and gladly and unconditionally, with the trademark selflessness that defines so many of Izuku’s other decisions.

“he just... deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?”

Izuku rarely if ever takes himself into consideration, and Katsuki knows this. he’s selfless to a fault, and Katsuki knows this. and so if Katsuki were to come up to him and apologize, there’s the possibility that yes, Izuku might decide not forgive him. he might in fact be all “nah, you know what, fuck you,” as would certainly be within his rights.

but this is a very remote possibility, and we all know it. and Katsuki knows it too, I think. because that’s not who Izuku is. he puts other people’s welfare above his own, every time. and so if Katsuki were to break down and tell Izuku that he was sorry, and if he were to ask him for forgiveness, nine times out of ten that is something that Izuku grants instantly. this is the same kid who put his own life at risk to try and save Katsuki less than an hour after Katsuki told him to dive off a roof. Izuku’s instinct is to protect and save. and so if he sees that Katsuki is hurting; if he sees that Katsuki feels guilty for what he’s done and that it’s eating away at him in much the same way as when he was blaming himself for Kamino -- he is going to do what he always does. he is going to try and save him.

and he would do that even if it meant shoving down his own pain. he absolutely would. he would prioritize Katsuki’s feelings over his own. and if he did still feel any lingering resentment at how cruelly he was treated, he would still put it aside if need be. and he would forgive him.

in other words, the risk exists that Izuku might grant Katsuki forgiveness that he doesn’t actually feel. if Katsuki is granted Izuku’s forgiveness, he doesn’t have any way to actually tell for sure if it’s real. there would be that element of doubt there, that question of whether or not it’s really sincere. and something like that could ultimately poison their relationship, if things were allowed to play out that way. it would prevent them from being fully able to trust each other. ultimately, it might lead to them drifting apart again, and something like that might ultimately be even more painful than Izuku rejecting Katsuki’s apology outright. and there’s also an argument to be made that Izuku doesn’t deserve to be put on the spot like that, and forced to make that decision one way or the other when he might not be ready to yet. so there’s that to consider as well.

so yeah. four reasons why Katsuki has not apologized to Izuku yet. and they are good reasons, in my book. complicated reasons, too. but none of that changes the fact that at the end of the day this is still something he has to do. his current way of trying to atone through action is great, don’t get me wrong! and it’s necessary too for sure, because like I said, the apology just on its own is never going to be enough. he needs to commit to doing the right thing, and trying his best to make it right between them from here on out. and saving his life is certainly a decent start! but you still gotta say the words too eventually bro.

but there is just a ton of stuff at play here and I find it all fascinating tbh. they are just so, so bad at communicating with each other. and the thing is, they both actually want the same thing! but they want it so badly that ironically it’s almost holding them back right now, because they don’t want to put it at risk. but ultimately this is a leap of faith that Katsuki in particular is going to have to take sooner rather than later in order to finally restore that last bit of trust between the two of them.

so yeah. just two stupid teenage boys who fail at emotions, and who are probably overdue for another of their famous Get It All Out In The Open stupid shounen therapy battles lmao. round 3, featuring Deku’s new robot arms vs Katsuki and his shiny new “like father like son” All Might torso scar. sob.

[btsslowburnfic]

Argument with Yoongi-part 2

Part 1 found HERE

Summary of part 1: you leave you and Yoongi's apartment after he can't say that he loves you anymore and he hasn't been home in weeks even though they are in town.

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You had no idea where you were going to go. You weren't particularly close with any of the other members or their significant others since Yoongi really didn't socialize with them outside of work. You walked down the street with your backpack slung over your shoulders. Fuck, this sucked.

"Y/N!" you heard a voice call out. Seriously?

You kept walking. You were too old to have an argument out on the street. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you ended up turning around and seeing Yoongi awkwardly jogging after you.

You stopped and glared at him.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he caught up to you.

You jerked your head to the side and walked down the nearest alley to have some semblance of privacy.

"Y/N please. Where are you going?" he asks again.

Alright. You guys were really going to have this argument out here? OK. You were so angry. You gave him a chance to talk to you and he wouldn't do it. "Why the fuck do you care? You said you don't love me. You're never home. You said you can never trust me again so why the hell are you out here following me?" you spat out.

Yoongi looked up at the sky like he wanted to scream. "I'm an idiot OK? Is that what you want to hear?"

You rolled your eyes. "No. What I wanted at a bare minimum was for you to tell me you loved me 15 minutes ago when I asked you and you couldn't even handle that."

Yoongi's eyes started to tear up; his deep voice began to crack, "I know I'm bad at stuff like this. Please. I can't do this alone."

You wanted so badly to just wrap your arms around him and forgive him. To take him home and tell him that of course you’ll stay, he’s the only person in the world for you. But you can’t. Things would just go back to how they have been and you two will just end up doing this to each other again. You scoffed. "What about me? I've been alone for months at a time. Literally alone in our apartment. While you won't come home because you say you don't want to see me even though you’re 5 minutes down the road. No." you shook your head. "I don't know where I'm going, but I know it's not with you." you turned and walked out of the alleyway and to the subway station.

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

A week passed by. You were homeless the first two nights, catching some power naps in an internet cafe, but then managed to find a cheaper hotel if you didn't mind the far walk to the station. Seoul was expensive. You sighed. Maybe it was time to move. Everywhere you turned you felt like BTS and Yoongi were being shoved in your face. You decide you're going to have to suck it up and go back to the apartment to get new clothes. You had packed the bag not actually thinking you were going to leave. Yoongi hadn't texted or called you. Which didn't surprise you given the fact he didn't do those things when you were together.

You assumed Yoongi wouldn't be at home considering he never was anyway. You unlocked the door and were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of booze and garbage. What the fuck.

You sat your backpack down and wandered inside. There, on the couch, was Yoongi. He looked so small and sad, curled up in a ball, passed out. There were several empty bottles of wine and whisky covering the coffee table. You pursed your lips together. Idiot.

You went to the laundry room and started a load of your dirty clothes. You started gathering bottles, rinsing them out, and placing them in the recycling bin. Sure, now he’s home. You found yourself thinking sarcastically.

You heard movement on the couch and you froze. You were counting on him being out of it for a while longer. You heard his groggy voice, "I told you to leave. I don't want to do this again."

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll be gone in a minute asshole. I just came to do my laundry. Also, trashing the apartment and skipping work aren’t going to make me come back.” you retorted as you continue to clean up the living room.

“I don’t care. They sent me home anyways.” he responded and rolled over, facing away from the couch now.

You sat a glass of water down on the table. “Is that so? Well I’m so glad you are home now that I’m gone. It’s really comforting to know that it was actually a choice to stay away from me.”

“Go away nightmare woman. Usually you leave when I open my eyes.”

“There’s no reason to be so mean Yoongi. I get it.” you sighed as you walked back to the laundry room to put your clothes in the dryer.

"She's gone but you keep coming back to me every time I close my eyes." you hear him whine on the couch. Does he think he’s dreaming?

“Oh yeah, your girlfriend left you?” you asked, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

“Yes.” he said sadly.

“Now why would she leave such a pretty face?” You had decided this was far too interesting not to play along.

“Because I’m a dick. I’m a bad boyfriend. I leave her for months at a time. I live in my head and forget to come home. I work all the time. And even though I think about her all the time it doesn’t matter because I’m never there for her.”

“Yeah. That does sound pretty dickish.”

“I just miss her so much.” he said quietly.

“Yeah. But even if she came back, you’d just do the same shit again.”

“No. I love her. I wouldn’t leave her alone again. They sent me home because I told them I was quitting.”

You froze. What in the everliving fuck did you just hear? You didn’t know what to say to that. You got up and walked into the bedroom, dialing one of the few BigHit contacts you had saved in your phone. You dialed Namjoon’s number. You’ve only met him like twice before and you knew they were super busy all the time so you were shocked when he actually answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey. This is [Y/N], Yoongi’s girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.” you corrected yourself.

“Oh. Well, Yoongi’s not here. He got sent home 4 days ago.”

“Yeah. About that. Why did you send him home?”

“I don’t really feel like it’s my place to say. You should really ask him.”

“Yeah...I tried that and he’s like half out of his mind somewhere between sleepy, hungover, maybe still drunk, and slightly delusional so...yeah. I’m looking for some clarification.” you replied. You heard Namjoon sigh deeply. Ever the diplomat.

“He came in here a few days ago talking about how you had left him. He said he was going to quit because of it. He was...unpleasant to be around. He said he got tricked into joining the group anyway because all he had wanted to do was write music. Just you know. Angry Yoongi things.” he took a deep breath. “Anyways. We told him to go home and think about what he was saying. To cool off and come back after some time.”

“Ok. Thanks.” you said, heading back to the laundry room to check on your clothes.

“Sure. no problem. How’s he doing?”

“Bad.” you responded instantly.

“Are you two going to work things out?”

You checked the clothes. Still damp. “I don’t know. I’m not going to be with a ghost. So I guess if he’s serious about not working so much I would consider it. I don’t want him to quit; I know he loves writing and he also loves performing even if he acts like he doesn’t. I just feel like there should be some boundaries. You know?”

“I do. It’s something all of us are working on. We all talk about it a lot.”

“Yeah. Life is fucking weird.” you said, closing the dryer door. You heard Namjoon laugh.

“Well, I hope it works out. You two really do seem perfect for each other. But, if not, no hard feelings. We all have to walk our own path, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks. Take care.”

“Bye.”

You put the phone in your back pocket and turned to walk back into the living room and you saw Yoongi standing in the laundry room door, looking like he was about to cry.

You stared at him, unsure what to do. He walked towards you and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re real.” You feel him shudder against you.

You let yourself relax into his embrace slightly. “I am real. And I’m still upset.”

“I know. Even if this is the last time, please let me have this.” He said sniffling, his lips ghosting the top of your head. “I meant it, you know? I’ll quit.” he pulled away to look at you. “There’s no point in working all the time if I don’t have you to come home to. I took for granted that you would always be here and I shouldn’t have.”

You placed your hand on his chest. “I never wanted you to quit. I just wanted to see you more often. Especially when you’re in the same city as me.”

“My music was all I had for so long. And then the other members. And then ARMY. And then finally, you. I just don’t know where all of it fits together.” He confessed.

“Maybe I don’t fit in there and that’s ok.” you said, your eyes becoming glossy.

“But I want you. I want you so badly.” He took your hands up to his mouth and gently kissed your knuckles. You felt your face growing red.

“I want you too. But not every few months. Not when maybe you remember to come home. Not like an afterthought. I either want you to be all in, or don’t bother.”

“Will you take me back if I say I’m all in?” he asked, running a hand through your hair.

“I would consider it. But I’m being serious. I can’t keep getting my heart broken and getting my hopes up. It hurts too much.” you said, tears streaming down your face.

“I’m all in. Please. Just come home. I’ll come home too. Every night that we’re in town I promise to come home to you. Even if it’s 3 in the morning. Just please. I need you.”

You let out a very soft, “Ok.” You see him flash the smallest gummy smile. The one that you love so much.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you.” he kissed you.

You returned the kiss but crinkle your nose, “Ok, yeah. No more make-up kissing or other activities until you at least brush your teeth. And shower.”

He smiled, “Yeah ok.”

“And then go into work and beg them for your job back.”

“I thought you wanted me here more and now you’re already sending me back to work?” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes as you gently pushed him on his shoulders, guiding him to the bathroom. “At least call Namjoon and apologize.”

“Deal. But for today, I plan to begin making it up to you.” he snuck one more kiss.

“TEETH. Brush Em!” you giggled and playfully shoved him towards the sink; so glad to finally feel like the two of you were on the same wavelength again.

[ddarker-dreams]

Fallen From Grace Part 2. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Click here for part one!

Luxury surrounds you at every turn, and tonight is so different. 

The dish that’s sitting in front of you for tonight is bruschetta, a dish warm and inviting in contrast with its desolate surroundings. Bread grilled in a brick oven with fine, expensive cheese melted onto it, hints of garlic and olive oil mixing in to create a drool inducing image. On top lays a light garnish of parsley, bright green contrasting the deep reds of the tomato. 

Every one of your meals is similar in this refined quality. It felt jarring at first, having every need of yours attended to with utmost care. Not only because it’s unusual to be treated with this regard, but because of those who carry the actions out themselves. 

They scurry around you, gaze cowering to the ground and voice meeker than a mouse. On the scarce occasion they find it absolutely necessary to ask you a question related to your preferences, their eyes never dare to meet your own. A sudden interest in the top of their shoes develops, or fiddling with any objects in hand. Your premature conclusion was that they were too guilt ridden to even look at you. 

Now, lips pressing against a glass and taking in sips of cool water, you know the lamentable truth. 

It isn’t that the servants of this villa feel remorse for standing by and enabling your isolation, failing to assist at any opportunity. No, money can soothe any scathing concerns in that regard. It’s a different poison, far more venomous than all consuming guilt. It’s a primal fear of Italy’s most powerful don that drives their complacency, in sight of immoral actions. 

Spineless cowards. Every single one of them. 

You return the cup to its original place on the long, wooden table. The muted sound is the only one in the grand dining room, aside from occasional silverware hitting a plate across from you. Since the beginning of dinner, you’ve made it a point to ignore him. Too many troubles to count plague your mind, the man on the other side of the table being the source. 

Uneasy silence does not last as long as you wish it would. He gently clears his throat, a signal that shouldn’t go ignored.  Looking up now, you’re unsurprised to see Giorno’s ever watchful gaze meeting you back. Pale skin is illuminated by flickering candlelight, golden hair framing his mature face. 

There’s a closed mouth smile on his face, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Unsettling.

“Do you still not feel hungry?” 

Giorno’s voice startles you, fingers twitching by your side. Time is an elusive thing, minutes always seeming to blur together, creating an incoherent mess. How long have the two of you been sitting here? Ten or so minutes, is your guess. Judging from his plate being almost finished, you realize just how long your thoughts were holding you captive.

Swallowing back the bile that creeps into your throat, your eyelids flutter shut. “Ah… something like that. You don’t need to wait for me, I’m sure you’re busy.” 

It’s Giorno’s turn now to take a sip from a wine glass, swirling the white liquid before raising it to his mouth. It’s rare that he drinks, a distaste for heavy alcohol consumption a moral code embedded in his person. Moscato d’Asti if you recall correctly, which you declined an offer for earlier. From the bottle alone you surmise it cost a fortune.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything today,” Giorno points out to you, voice leaving little room for argument.  He looks at your untouched plate, frowning at the undesirable sight. “Should I have something else prepared for you…?”

Exhaling shakily, you accentuate your disinterest in the subject by avoiding eye contact. It’s been like this lately, always placed under a magnifying glass. A tense exchange between supposed lovers, neither cluing the other of their true agendas. In this twisted parody of a dance, Giorno claims a clear upper hand. He leads you according to his own tempo, never once stopping to let you regain your breath. 

Even with him out of your vision, you still feel the crushing weight of his stare. You swallow despite the dryness of your mouth, reaching once more for the soothing glass of water. Panic has long since settled in, disrupting any logical way of thinking and successfully shaking you up. How long can you hide your secrets from him? At this rate, you won’t last much longer.

It all started four, excruciatingly long days ago.

Marco, a guard who you have grown fond of, seemingly vanished into thin air. Along with all the other workers. No explanation, no clues, nothing. The days that followed left you littered with doubts and soul crushing anxiety, taking your every thought hostage. Did something happen to him? If so, what? Did Giorno learn of your secret interactions with him? And if he did, how the hell is he remaining so composed? 

“You’ve been zoning out often.” 

It’s unfair how he can pick up on your behavior without even trying. Being picked apart and analyzed in real time has never been your favorite, yet it feels even more dreadful now. When you first arrived in this golden barred cage, you had nothing to hide. Now, the burdens of your sins against Giorno threaten to swallow you entirely. 

Nails threaten to puncture the soft skin of your palm, hands balled into tight fists on your lap. Every little poke and prod of Giorno’s comments further torments you, sending you into a spiral of never ending despair. Controlling your outward reactions is the bare minimum you can offer at the moment, too skittish to do anything else. Even the sight of delicious food in front of you sends your stomach churning, the scent of it bringing nausea rooted in crippling anxiety. 

He has to know, right? Everything would make so much more sense if he did. It would explain this surreal, benevolent streak that emerged from him seemingly unprompted. It’s not that Giorno was ever outright cruel to you, until this point, you were given your space. No longer is that a luxury you can experience. 

The past few days he’s been practically glued to your side, giving you no time to get your bearings. An unrelenting attack from all angles. It’s an impossible feat to maintain a facade of cluelessness like you were able to before.

Giorno tilts his head, still awaiting a proper answer. Gathering what remnants of strength that remain, you hurriedly utter to half the truth. “I-I haven’t been feeling well.” 

This disclosure earns you a worried glance. He looks at you a moment longer -- as if searching for something -- before pulling back his chair. It groans against the wooden floor in protest, steady footsteps approaching you. Now by your side, he bends down to inspect you further. A tentative hand is placed to your forehead, assessing your condition from a closer perspective.

“You don’t feel warm.” he murmurs while retracting his hand, the action giving you a chance to breathe normally again. Does that mean he thinks you’re lying? Not giving you any further hints at his inner thoughts, Giorno stands by your seated form in silence. In hopes of avoiding suspicion, you come up with a rushed explanation.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” you scratch your cheek, finding difficulty in maintaining your composure. “It’s really nothing to worry about, Giorno. A few restless nights won’t do me in.” 

If a physical ailment was bothering you, Giorno’s ability could serve to aid you. There isn’t anything his Stand can do for exhaustion though, not to your knowledge. He blinks, long eyelashes fluttering in the process. Whether he believes you or not is in the air. The topic is left to the wayside for now, much to your inner relief.

You had gotten sick once in the past. Even more freedoms were stolen from you, health professionals sworn to Passione monitoring you around the clock. Privacy was nonexistent, a true nightmare of an experience. It was only a mild fever, nothing that could cause any true harm. Giorno took it seriously, acting in an abundance of over protection until you recovered.

It won’t be ideal for you if that happens again. For almost a week you were forced to the confines of your bed, taking bitter medicines and eating only bland, nutritious food. That period of time made you go borderline stir crazy, having nothing to do aside from entertaining your malicious thoughts. If he’s thinking about putting you through that again, you’re unable to tell. 

Composed and serene as ever, he takes your hand up from your lap with tender affection. 

“[First]...” your name rolls off his tongue in a low tone, his deep voice and close proximity causing your pulse to quicken. “If there’s anything on your mind, know that you can come to me.” 

Your breath hitches, all hairs on the back of your neck standing. So he has noticed, or believes your anguish is related to something other than physical illness. It makes more sense why he’s insisted on having you in his presence, to keep you in his sight. To make sure you’re not misbehaving. 

The coarse pad of his thumb rubs over your hand in slow, methodical circles. Involuntarily, your hand begins to tremble. There’s not an opportunity to state your case against his words before he speaks up again, words intent on placating you.

“There must be something I can do for you. I hate seeing you troubled like this.” 

You need to think of a diversion. Fast. He’s eroding your defenses, goading you into spilling the hideous truth of your disobedience. A small voice in your head pleads with you, whispering that maybe he’ll forgive you if you confess now. For you to beg for amnesty, claiming the depths of loneliness you’ve felt all this time. Would that cause him to take pity on you? 

Or would you suffer greater lengths than before for your misdeeds? 

Pushing down the temptation, a hopeful idea comes to mind. Deft fingers wrap around his hand, a tired smile on your lips. “You’re very considerate. It really isn’t anything bad, I’ve just had a few rough nights. I’ll try sleeping earlier tonight and seeing if that helps.” 

Giorno gives your hand a final squeeze before pulling away. “Ah, of course. Whatever you feel is best.” 

It’s a small victory, holding purpose to you. You can’t make any moves under his scrutinizing presence, the threat of alerting him by acting suspicious constant. He can’t be around like this forever, Giorno’s position requires constant attention. Even a few days into him not leaving the premises, you’re having trouble adjusting. It has to be a temporary arrangement, he won’t always be able to monitor you. When the opportunity presents itself, you’ll learn the truth about Marco.

You swear this to yourself.

“I’ve read that relaxing before going to bed helps with sleeping problems. Let’s walk around the gardens together, and see if that helps.” he phrases it like a suggestion, but you know better. It looks like you won’t be escaping Giorno’s presence anytime soon, an oasis of sleep slipping through your fingers like sand. Offering a meek nod instead of utilizing your voice, you mimic his previous actions and get up from your seat. 

Giorno extends an arm to you, which you accept. It’s not that you want to, per se, it’s that you need to maintain the charade from before. Marco suggested to you that if you act less combative to your husband, he might grant you more freedoms. Which you desperately want to attain. In light of his sudden disappearance, it would be suspicious to stop acting like this. Reverting to your former harsh behavior won’t do anything good. 

The new disposition worked in your favor. Instead of ignoring Giorno or cursing him like before, you acted tamer. And, as Marco predicted, some embargoes on your freedoms were steadily lifted. Acting like a loving wife to a man you feel nothing about animosity for isn’t an easy task. It’s a survival tactic. 

You catch a whiff of Giorno’s light cologne, the scent dotting your skin with goosebumps. He’s always been a man of fine taste, you must confess. Once at his side, he begins to walk in the familiar direction of his outdoor gardens. The spot is a grandiose one, awe-inspiring flowers from all over the world appearing in full bloom. Even out of season plants are capable of flourishing, which you suspect is due to Giorno’s Stand.

For such a reprehensible person, he sure has a beautiful ability. 

He looks lost in his own thoughts for most of the walk, and finally speaks up often a prolonged silence. “I’ve noticed how you enjoy your time in the gardens.” 

Struggling to keep up with his pace and balance your rapid thoughts, you take a moment before responding. “Gardening is something I always wanted to try. When I first looked into it, I never realized how expensive a hobby it is.” 

He hums in response, offering a moment of reprieve from stressful conversation.

When the two of you walk outdoors, you’re greeted by the crisp evening air. The sun is just beginning to set in the sky, warm colors embracing the expansive greenery. A main path leads up to an outdoor fountain, which emits a noise of rushing water. On either side of you are a variety of shrubs, pink and blue hydrangeas in bloom. A cicada beats its wings in the distance, a telltale time of summer. 

The openness the outdoors brings with it a false sense of solace. You prefer this to the confining walls of inside Giorno’s mansion, which bring with them melancholic memories. A single aspect of this area has earned your ire, the large window above that is attached to his office. You’ve looked up to see Giorno watching over you for a few seconds. Further cementing the idea that you’re never truly alone. 

Silence settles in between the two of you, weaving through winding paths and mossy stone arches. This is a part of the garden you don’t come to as often, you notice. Rounding a final corner around some hedges, you spot a stunning collection of flowers that must be new. From a dark center, pointed petals emerge, jet black in color with hints of crimson on the edges. 

Giorno pauses to observe the mesmerizing blossoms as well, reaching out to inspect a petal. As soon as he touches it, his lips curl into a frown, almost like he’s remembering something. “A few days ago, I decided I wanted this addition. I got what I needed to grow it this morning.” 

You thought that Gold Experience could create life from anything, so it doesn’t make sense to you why he needed to wait for the arrival of something. Maybe even Stands have limits? Any desire to ask about it is stifled by the fact that you’re talking to Giorno, curiosity fizzling out as fast as it sparked.

He pulls a handkerchief out from a pocket within his suit, and wipes off his fingers that had touched the flower. 

“Black dahlias. It isn’t a flower most people would associate with summer, but I found myself interested in them.” he offers a look into his inner thoughts, a rare occurrence. You wait patiently, sensing he has more to say.

“All plants have different meanings, some even having their own folklore. Tell me, [First], what do you believe black dahlias represent?” 

A perplexing question. Not wanting to offer a halfhearted answer in fear of being reprimanded, you give it some thought. Darker colors typically symbolize negative feelings, at least in literature. It’s possible the same logic applies here. In the distant past, you’d read online about an unsolved murder case in America by the name of The Black Dahlia. It seems anything with the name can’t be a good omen.

Humming in thought, you offer the best guess you can concoct. “I’m not the best with stuff like this… if I had to guess, I’d say it means suffering. Or something to that effect.” 

“Very close. Not quite,” Giorno’s eyes betray the calm delivery of his words, a hidden storm within. “What black dahlias symbolize… is betrayal.” 

You’d swallow if you could.

In a single instance, it feels like all the air has been forcibly punched from your lungs, body going numb and blood running cold as ice. Every ounce of strength that hasn’t been sapped from you goes to keeping your knees from buckling, mouth dry and tongue like sandpaper. He doesn’t blink, waiting patiently to see what your next move will be.

He knows. You don’t know how, but he knows. Similar to how a predator toys with its prey before devouring it, he’s testing you. Gauging for a reaction, savouring the guilt that rolls off you in palpable waves. Options and time are limited, both a dry well as he expects a response. 

Your resolve begins to wilt, perishing under the harsh conditions it's been placed. Roots crumbling and petals falling to the ground, it’s a competition within your mind to see what thought will win. Marco risked his own livelihood in order to give you companionship, to make you feel human again. Can you stay afloat under this immense pressure? 

With unexpected speed, you decide. There’s no backing down now. You’ll see this treacherous charade through until the bitter end. It’s what you owe to him, what you owe to yourself. If it’s games that Giorno wants to play, then so be it. 

“My guess was close then, wasn’t it?” you force a light laugh at the end of your sentence, straightening your posture and giving him your best smile. Within the depths of his countenance is an unidentifiable emotion, his jaw tight and eyes studying. All intensity melts away within an instant, the Giorno you’re used to seeing reappearing in front of you.

“Yes, yes it was.” 

Without his prompting to do so, you wrap your arms around his arm once again. Letting out a soft exhale, you speak up, hoping to rid yourself of this tense atmosphere. “A walk was just the thing I needed. I feel better already, still a little tired though…” 

It isn’t a regular occurrence that you touch Giorno of your own will. You can’t remember the last time you’d done it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He subtly leans into your touch, welcoming the warmth it brings. Hope erupts within your chest, that you can still play innocent and get away with your grievances. 

Now that you’ve been removed from the moment, your mind is clearer. Capable of reasoning with itself, instead of scrambling to react. It’s a possibility that Giorno has an inkling of suspicion, and nothing solid to grasp it. Giving yourself up and playing right into his hand is exactly what he wants, and you adamantly refuse to do it. It’s shameful that you even thought about giving up, even if it was only for a brief moment. 

It could be the fried nerves, that you find yourself rambling more than you normally do. “I never asked, but how was your day? You always ask me about mine, so it seems right that I’d return the favor.” 

“Busy, not much more than usual though. I regret not being able to join you for breakfast. I had... something to attend to.” Giorno reminisces back to this morning, tone lighter than before. It looks like your hunch of him not knowing anything concrete could be true. A passing breeze ruffles through your hair, cool air serving to calm you down more. 

You can do this. You’ll make it through the storm, and find out the truth on your own terms.

“There’s always tomorrow,” you gently tug at his arm, back in the direction of the house. “Can we… can we head back? I still want to try and sleep, even if it’s early.” 

Never one to deny you anything, he starts the walk back, and you follow suit. “I’ve never seen you this talkative before, [First].” 

You’ve never felt the need to talk this much until now. Rambling about nonsensical topics gives your overwhelmed brain a much needed reprieve. If there’s anything good you have to say about Giorno, it’s that he’s an excellent listener. Never interrupting, always offering his full attention. He never offers his input more than he sees necessary. 

The comment doesn’t feel like a pointed one, rather a truthful observation. You let out a sigh. 

“I’ve always had a lot to say,” you start with a purse of your lips, mindful of yourself. But I hate you. “Once you get me talking, you’ll miss the days I was quiet.” 

He doesn’t buy into the self derogatory statement, and shakes his head. “I could never tire of hearing your voice.” 

You open your mouth, only to close it again. Warmth erupts onto your face, the genuine delivery of a line only Giorno could deliver properly. Displays of heartfelt fondness leave you taken aback, never allowing you to understand the man by your side. How can he say in good conscience that he loves you, while taking you from everything you’ve ever known? 

Giorno Giovanna, who you’ve spent a little over a year with, is still an enigma to you. 

When you spoke with Marco, rarely did either of you bring him up. Out of respect for your feelings, you guess. On the rare occasion you did ask a question about Giorno, there weren’t any clear answers. All he knows is that Giorno took over Passione at a young age, and issued wide reform of the gang that extends worldwide. 

The fact is an intimidating one, since he’s so close to you. 

Now back inside, evening has settled in. Long halls are deserted of any life, only you and Giorno occupying them. It’s off putting, you can’t think of the last time you’ve seen this home so empty. There must be someone here, if your meals were made. Other than that, the only human being you’ve seen is Giorno. 

Your shared master bedroom is on the second floor, and after an uneventful trip, he holds the large doors open for you to enter first. 

Lavish and not obnoxious in its designs, this room is where you spent all your time when you first arrived. Not of your own will, since you were antagonistic. Looking at the custom glass windows, it brings back memories of desperately trying to break them with different furniture. Then the noise of doing so getting you in even more trouble. 

Next was an iron shackle against your ankle, metal cold against your skin and uncomfortable. 

Compared to that, you should feel like your current condition is better. Now it’s mental strain instead of physical. There never is rest for the weary.

Hands of the grandfather clock in your room read 8:24 PM. Your guess is that Giorno will dismiss himself any moment now, heading to his office and giving you much needed space. It’s an unspoken routine that you’ve fallen into. Though you ultimately sleep in the same bed at night, Giorno doesn’t join you until much later, if at all. Being in charge of Passione is a full time commitment. 

With a muted thud, the door closes behind you. Giorno draws the curtains over the windows shut, cutting off what little sunlight shone through. Fully mesmerized with his graceful actions, you find yourself staring. It’s when he starts unzipping the top of his royal blue suit that you realize he isn’t intending to leave anytime soon.

Looking for something to preoccupy yourself with, you get ready for bed yourself. The marble ground of the master bathroom feels cold against your bare feet, causing you to shiver and mutter a quiet curse. After brushing your teeth, you open the door to see Giorno still getting changed, bare back facing towards you. Why is he still here? 

Reading your thoughts, he turns around, white pajama shirt in hand. “Is something wrong, [First]? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.” 

He can be teasing when he wants, much to your chagrin. Sucking in a deep breath, you give your honest thoughts in a strained voice. “It’s just, I thought you’d have work to do.” 

“I’ve taken care of what I need to today,” he lifts the plain shirt over his head while he speaks, the material stretching against his defined muscles. “So, I’ll spend time with mi cara. It’s been a trying week.” 

Well, that makes two of us. 

His last comment makes you curious. Giorno isn’t the type to complain, if he sees a problem he dedicates himself to fixing it. What is it that managed to earn an admission like that? You’ll test your luck and press further, seeing if you learn anything. It could be related to Marco’s disappearance. 

“Trying…?” you repeat back, testing the word on your tongue. Giorno pulls his braid over his shoulder, and you recognize what that means. Before he gets the opportunity to fiddle with the restraints himself, you walk over to his side and start on it. He allows you to do so, shoulders relaxing as you pull the hair tie out. 

“I shouldn’t burden you unnecessarily.” 

His golden hair is like silk between your fingers, having a light floral scent. You furrow your eyebrows while working through undoing the braid, combing through it. He subtly leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering close at your soothing maneuvers. Prying the truth from him will take more effort.

“It’s not a burden.” you reassure, pulse quickening at the anticipation his silence brings. Worst case scenario, he’ll deflect again and you’ll drop the subject. Feeling inquisitive leaves you unsatisfied, Giorno opting to leave you in the dark about most matters. 

“There was a plot uncovered, relating to you.” 

Your actions cease, body frozen on the spot. 

“It was a threat on your life to weaken me. This morning, everything was taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. That’s the reason I’ve been working from home the past few days,” he runs a hand through his hair, and turns to face your stunned form. “I’d never allow any harm to befall you. New staff will be replacing the previous one, there’s nothing to disprove that they weren’t all involved.” 

“A few workers were going to get close to you, and draw out information about me. Then... ah, well. It doesn’t matter now.” 

What he’s saying makes logical sense. You’re the wife of a powerful man, who has more enemies than you could ever hope to count. Your mind drifts to Marco, and the time that you had spent with him. A seed of doubt is planted within you, knowing that Giorno distrusted his former staff enough to get rid of all of them. Those men and women were tested vigorously, so for him to now distrust them... 

That leaves a single, haunting question that you don’t want to entertain. Was Marco getting close to you, with the sole purpose of murdering you at the best opportunity? It… it can’t be like that. You spent hours by his side, laughing and reminiscing over snacks and games. He told you about his family, the misfortune that befell his sweet sister, his inner conflict of working for Giorno at your expense. 

When Marco rarely spoke of Giorno, he did ask a few questions about his routine. You thought it was so the two of you could speak together with ease, and sneak around. 

You had cared for him. In the deepest sentiment your broken heart could conjure, you really did. It was the highlight of your day, what you looked forward to every morning when you woke up. The reassurance he would offer, giving you that extra push to carry on your miserable parody of a life.  

Mouth agape, no words can form on your dry tongue. Giorno must mistake your inner conflict for worry over the undone plot on your life, running his hands up and down your arms. He pulls you into a hug in hopes of comforting your shaking form, and you hate yourself for accepting it. 

Nothing makes sense. This has to be a trick, a cruel misunderstanding. Why has the universe seen fit to toss and turn you at every chance, jostling your being to the core. Vacillating between two sides of yourself, the one that wants to believe him and the one that doesn’t. 

Wetness drips down your cheeks, finally breaking down. You sniffle against his shoulder, even more upset with yourself for willingly accepting his embrace. It’s not that the thought of death bothered you, it’s what your trust was broken. Was everything Marco told you a ruse?  

You don’t know. You suppose no one other than the aforementioned person knows, if he’s still alive. It’s embarrassing, truly humiliating to know you told him the secrets of yourself. All for it to amount to nothing, a dagger twisting into your side repeatedly. 

Giorno hushes you, pulling you tighter against him. He coos sweet words into your ear, now rubbing the small of your back. You take all of him in, accepting him in a moment of profound weakness. There’s deep pain, first, then nothing. Emotions come to a halt, numbness settling in as you cease weeping. 

What is there to feel now? 

Soft lips press against your forehead, Giorno offering a chaste kiss. This amount of physical affection is the most he’s ever given you at once, now offering you all of himself. Too weak to protest, you close your eyes, wanting to sleep and never worry about anything again. 

Why try anymore. 

Giorno... did he speak the complete truth? That you can only trust him? He’s given you everything you could ask for, always turning the other cheek when you lashed out at him. He loves you, in his own twisted way. Even after all the rejection you spewed at him, he loves you still. 

“Amore, oh amore,” he whispers into your ear, warm breath causing you to shudder. He pulls back from your amorous embrace, taking your face in his thumb and lifting it. “I’ll take care of everything. Come, let’s get you cleaned up for the night. You must be tired, hm?” 

So, so tired. Of everything. Of this life you live. 

Arms sneak around your shaking torso once more, and he places his head atop yours. Tears are gone for now, a well long dried up. Now, you stand and shake. Head devoid of coherent thoughts, limp against him. He holds you up, keeping you steady.

You close your eyes. Has Giorno always smelled this pleasant? It’s starting to grow on you. Your ear is against his chest, his skin pressed against your own. Listening carefully, you hear the steady thump of his heart. The one before that you thought to place a knife through, now bringing you solace.

What a joke this world is. 

Giorno accepts you, always. Like he said time and time again, the words now settling in. You mutter something against his chest, voice seemingly inaudible. Even you are uncertain of what they are, yet he seems to understand nonetheless. 

And he smiles, content. 

[blue-slush-writing]

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮

𝐏𝐨𝐯: Izuku has finally been able to get out of an abusive relationship with Todoroki but can't seem to full escape, especially when all of their friends are trying to force them back together

Katsuki thought his life was perfect, but as soon as his daughter was unexpectedly born his girlfriend left, leaving him to be a father on his own. He's trying to make it through college while taking care of his 3 year old.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠

Chapter 2

Izuku could roughly hear his alarm going off next to his bed and he could feel the sun's light shining in through his window. The bright rays were piercing through his tightly shut eyes, and he groaned, squinting. It was a Tuesday morning and he had class in about an hour, but despite the continuous beeping, he only rolled over, prepared to go back to sleep and skip class. His comforter was practically begging him to just stay in today. Along with his awful headache, it seemed like reason enough to ditch for one day. Part of him wanted an aspirin, but sleep felt more important. He shifted uncomfortably as his bare skin rubbed against the sheets. Somewhere in his mind he was vaguely aware he was naked, but the situation didn’t quite click into place until he felt an extra pair of arms wrap around his from behind. The warmth of another person pressed up against his back, and he rolled over, coming face to face with a smiling duel haired man. his eyes opened in surprise, and he began to speak, only to find the words caught in his throat.

“Morning sunshine.” The boy muttered, trying to lean in for a kiss, but was instead met with Izuku’s hand pressed tightly between their lips. Even this early in the morning Shoto still looked stunning, but that wasn’t quite what was on his mind.

“Did we… again?” When he had invited Shoto over, he had sworn to himself wouldn’t get high enough to sleep with him, but it seemed his self control was more of a figment of his imagination. It hadn’t been too long since the two of them broke up, but it felt way too soon to be considering getting back with his Ex.

In response to his question Shoto only laughed. “You really can’t hold your liquor Izu.”

“We were drinking?!” The man was a known lightweight, which was why he rarely drank, especially in combination with weed. For the life of him he couldn’t piece together what happened last night, but here he was, for the second time that month, laying naked in bed with a guy he had sworn not to see again. Maybe he had slipped something into his drink. Izuku tried to move out of Shoto’s arms and sit up, but was immediately pulled back down into a tight hug.

“Come on. Don’t be like that. You were so nice to me last night” He planted small kisses along his collar bone.

“I was nice because you got me drinking until I forgot what a dick you are.” He snarled, pushing him off. Izuku rolled out of bed, dragging one of the blankets with his as a robe. Their clothes were scattered across the room, and no matter where he looked he couldn’t seem to find his boxers.

“They’re s on the couch.” Shoto turned over on the bed, Obviously not planning on leaving his apartment anytime soon. What worried Izuku more is that he was probably going to have to wash the entire living room. With his luck they probably hadn’t gone for only one round. He grabbed a pair of booty shorts out of his dresser and pulled them on, throwing a thin white T over top. It was way too early for this shit. His head was pounding and everything felt very bright and harsh. Just how much did he drink? He was trying to act nonchalant, but he had a really bad feeling in his gut. Even if he hadn’t been in his right mind, he felt like he was leading Shoto on. Izuku knew he didn’t plan on getting back together with him, so doing this made him feel dirty. He never used to do one night stands, but the more time he spent around friends, the more time he woke up in situations like this. his friends were his Ex’s friends which meant they were all trying to push the two of them back together. Even now, he was sure that they had all purposefully ditched the party last night just to give them some time together. Those bastards.

Still feeling incredibly tired, he walked drearily into the kitchen, bumping into the counter on his way to the coffee pot. With a hangover like this he was going to start with a minimum of three mugs and an aspirin. He popped the last instant brew cup into its place and added water before pressing start. He could have just stood there and watched, but he felt the overwhelming need to brush his teeth, so he made his way down the hall to the bathroom, and was met with a very unseemly sight. He looked like a total wreck. His makeup from the day before streaked down his face and his green dyed hair was an absolute mess. He looked like he had just walked out of hell.

He splashed some water onto his hands and slowly massaged a puff of soap into his dry face. It stung his eyes, but he rubbed his skin clean till he was satisfied, and rinsed, wetting his hair in the process. He was in desperate need of a shower anyway , but that would have to wait until after he got an explanation. He felt like his heart was racing faster than it should, and he could see his hands shaking as he opened the cap to the tooth paste. Maybe it was the drugs still working their way out of his system, but he got the feeling he was afraid of the things he might have said the night before. The promises he might have made. Hell, with the way he acted when he was drunk he might walk out this just to be told they were already back together. Part of him longed for that. Wanted to be held again and shown affection. Wanted to taste Shoto on his lips when they-

But the other half of him knew that was impossible. He had already had his heart broken once, and he didn’t know if he had it in his to go through that again. Shoto was the one who had got him started on pot in the first place when they were back in high school. Izuku was stressed and anxious, and had been easily convinced it was just a way to “chill out”. His relationship quickly went from best friend, to dealer and customer, and when he didn’t have the money for weed, he would pay with... favors. This continued into college, but soon he was able to make other friends who hooked him up and he became a resident stoner. Weekends, parties, and now apparently Monday nights, he would get togethers to get lit. Everyone seemed to like him and he got invited out a lot. He was just a typical college kid with some extra problems.

Somewhere along the way his favors for Shoto got more and more serious, until he just asked him out. Izuku had probably mistaken what they had for love and immediately said yes. They would fight, make up, have sex, and pretend like none of it happened. Maybe he could have realized earlier that something was off, but the blonde just had a way of doing things that always brought him back. Like after a long day of work he would sneak the two of them onto their apartment buildings roof, and they would spend the night in each other's arms, just watching the stars and talking about nothing. When they did finally break up it was because Shoto had cheated. Behind Izuku’s back there had been a girl named Momo who seemed to be nothing more than eye candy, but had taken up his time nonetheless. When he found out what was going on he had been devastated. After a long fight that lasted days of on and off screaming, they decided it would be best to just part ways. To Izuku it had been the end, but Shoto seemed to think they were just on some kind of break.

Swishing water around in his mouth, the greenette spit out the last of the minty paste and left from the bathroom. He could hear his Ex getting dressed in the bedroom as well as the beep of the coffee machine, signalling that the pot was done brewing.

Once he had poured himself a mug, he couldn’t be bothered to add creamer and just decided to drink it black. he didn’t have the patience to search all around his kitchen for whatever ridiculous spot his friends had left his milk and sweeteners. He had only just taken a sip of his steaming drink when Shoto walked in wearing one of Izuku’s hoodies, and prosmuidly nothing underneath. He slowly tried to approach him, but every step forward warranted two steps back.

“Are you serious Izuku? We’re not five. You can’t just back away from your problems.” He moved closer. “We still have something. We always did. I already apologized didn’t I?” His voice almost sounded sincere, but there was a layer of malice dripping behind every word. This was one of his tactics. Say sweet words laced with just enough poison to scare his into submission. But he had grown too much since their breakup to fall prey to his lies once again. He never wanted to go back to being Shoto’s plaything.

“You cheated on me with some bitch you met on tinder. You lost me the day you started sleeping around behind my back.” He knew he must have a dark glare on his face, and he hoped it got his point across. He wanted him out immediately. “I’ll show you to the door .” He tried his best to sound warm, but it was clear that he was about ready to lose it. He wasn't sure why he was so angry, but a swarm of memories was clouding his mind and he felt as though he was on the verge of tears. If Shoto stayed any longer he might collapse and give in again.

“Can I at least take a shower before I leave?” It was so clear this was not a question but a demand, but Izuku was not having it. With no words left to say, he simply grabbed a jacket from the front closet, shoved it at Shoto and pushed him out the front door. He honestly couldn’t care if it was winter, and that he was wearing barely anything, but his new house was close enough for him to not have to worry. And Even if it wasn’t, why should he care? The man was no longer his problem.

Once he was alone in his apartment he immediately collapsed down onto his bed, wondering why he had let this happen to himself. His first class started in close to 30 minutes, but he definitely did not feel like going. He would write his professor an email saying he got sick and hope that he didn’t think his getting sick for the 13th time that semester was strange. He probably hated him, but it was just a general language class. He had dropped English in high school and now had to retake it at 9:30 in the morning every Tuesday and Thursday.

Despite having taken a bath the night before, Izuku felt filthy. His skin was crawling and he wished he could run away any memories that might resurface the night before. Before he tried to figure out anything for the day a shower was in order. He once again pulled himself from bed and picked up his phone from the nightstand. He had been in such a daze last night that he hadn’t even plugged his phone in and it was now at a dwindling 13%. he connected it to his charger, not even bothering to look at his string of notifications. Who ever needed his could wait until after he was clean.

He had just put his clothes on, but easily dropped them to the floor and carefully made his way to the shower. There were red solo cups littered around his living room, and the whole place wreaked of drugs and sex. This is why he never let people party at his house. He was surprised to not find puke in the bathroom, but at least that would be one less thing for him to clean up. He clicked the water on and stepped into its spray, not waiting for it to warm up. It felt so good to have the cold droplets covering his back and dripping through his hair.

As the water heated up he felt like his problems melted away. Thoughts of past love, lust and affection, the after taste of drugs. They slipped down the drain with all of the sweat from the night before. When his and Shoto had broken up he had replaced all of his soaps so that the house would stop smelling like him. So he would stop smelling like him. Now all of his senses were filled with the smell of white chocolate and strawberries. It was the same body wash that he had used in middle school before all of his problems had come barreling head first into his life. It reminded him of his mother, Inko. The soap had originally been hers, But Izuku had stolen it and didn’t change the scent he used for years. He had only switched it in highschool when his friends told him that he should switch to a brand that was better for the environment.

As he stood in the shower, he could feel his legs lightly quivering and he had to steady himself against the shower bar. It hadn’t been immediate, but the effects of an eventful night were finally hitting him. He relentlessly scrubbed hisself, wishing he could magically erase himself from existence. The worst part of all of this was he already didn’t want to be sober anymore. He had made a catastrophic mistake under the influence, but he knew he could forget if he just let himself go a little. Being addicted to something was incredibly annoying. As long as he could guarantee Shoto wouldn’t be there, he would probably call up his friends and ask them to come over later that night.

When he washed his hair, streaks of green hair dye bled down his arms and torso, drizzling down the drain like a sad stream of sludge. The bright color was fading and it was close to time to redye it. Those were a multitude of colors he could go for, but he always found himself dying it green to match his eyes. At the very least he was on brand.

With the last bits of soap leaving his body, he cut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Water dripped off of his onto the floor mat and he rang his hair out with a towel, not letting the moisture cling to his roots. The entire room was filled with steam and he couldn’t see himself in the mirror, but it was safe to say he felt vastly better. Whatever had happened was in the past and all he could do now was move on with his day. Maybe he could call up his friend Uraraka and they could watch movies instead of doing their work on campus. She was kind of an idiot, but She always managed to make him feel better.

Izuku wrapped the towel around himself and opened the bathroom door, letting out a ploom of smoke. The rest of his apartment was cold and he instantly regretted leaving the warm confines of the shower. He quickly ran to his bedroom and found a comfortable sweater and a pair of sweatpants. The two clothing items didn’t match at all, but who was going to see him? He might as well have put on some fuzzy socks too. Once he was bundled in warm clothing he reached for his phone and began to scroll through his alerts.

Those were tons of messages from his friends apologizing and checking in on him, an email from his boss, even a message from one of his close classmates asking if he was coming in today. He checked the email first, worried he might have forgotten about a shift. He worked at a fast food chicken hut, and he had thought he didn't have work until tomorrow, but with the way his day was going he was better safe than sorry. He skimmed it quickly, only noticing the key details. To his relief it was just notifying him of what hours he would be working so he wouldn’t be late...again. His boss liked him because he did his work while on shift, but he wasn’t the most reliable when it came to actually showing up on time. He usually did the four to nine shift but tomorrow he was working overnight.

His last notification was from Uraraka . She used a long string of emojis to accompany a message apologizing for leaving him alone last night. She seemed genuinely upset and said that Iida had dragged her out before she had even realized what was happening. Both Uraraka and Iida were Graphic design majors and lived together on campus. There was a good chance the two of them were dating, but Izuku never pressed the subject. He decided he might as well message her just to see if she wanted to come over. She most likely wouldn’t respond, but it was worth a shot. His fingers flicked across his keyboard and he sent him a simple text that got his point across.

‘Come over. I’ll get snacks and a movie. Just bring something… strong. Makeup for leaving me alone last night by giving me something to forget about Shoto.’ he knew he would regret saying this even as he typed the words, but he longed for an escape. Not only just from his Ex, but more from his situation. Somewhere deep within himself, Izuku felt like he was missing something. Like he didn’t belong. It was as if he was yearning for a place he had never been, whose he would finally feel whole. That “place” certainly wasn’t his one bedroom apartment.

Izuku decided it was worthwhile to put some concealer on, so as not to look like a total wreck for his friends. He didn’t care much about his appearance, but at the very least he wanted to cover up the redness of his tired eyes. His head still throbed from the past nights drinking, and every time he would turn his head too fast clusters of black dots would cloud his vision. Sighing heavily, he let himself fall back against his pillow, deciding he would just take a short nap until someone responded. He had no idea how late he had been up yesterday, but he could feel his fatigue dripping from him. Not even bothering to cover himself with the comforter, he rolled over, burying his face into the warmth of his cotton heat.

~~~

A ding on Izuku’s phone stared him from his sleep. He had his ringer all the way up, and the loud beep echoed through his room. Groaning, he turned over grabbing his phone from his night stand. It was later in the evening now, nearly Five o’clock, and the sun was no longer at its peak in the sky. Among other notifications, he had a message from Uraraka.

‘I’m in class, but I’ll be over in a bit. I get out at 4 so close to then.’

Four? It was an hour past then. Izuku sat up in bed, worried that he had missed her. He would feel so stupid if she had actually shown up only for his to fall asleep. Just as he began to worry, he heard quiet talking coming from the living room. He couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it sounded like the TV was playing, as well as small laughs that bounced around the apartment. He sat up, clutching his head and stumbled out of his bedroom. Sitting thoughtlessly on his couch was Uraraka, watching his TV as if it was her own house. She had her feet kicked up on his coffee table and her school bag was sitting next to her. She had clearly come straight from class. He certainly hadn’t been quiet when he barged into the room, and she looked up from where she was sitting and looked at him as if he was the one who seemed out of place. She had a smug grin, and he was sure he must look ridiculous from sleeping on his face.

“The front door was open so I invited myself in.” She said nonchalantly, leaning her head backwards on the couch to stare at him. He definitely should have warned her-

“I wouldn't sit thise if I was you. Pretty sure I had sex there last night.” He said, sighing. Normally it would have been funny to see the look of utter disgust on Uraraka's face, but he was still feeling guilty about what happened. The brunette quickly leapt up from the couch, shaking herself off as if he had gotten an STD just from sitting there. He looked at her with regret at having spent the last hour laying down on the sofa. As bad as his mood was, it did brighten him a little bit to see the idiot running around trying to whip the cooties off of herself. Slowly his frown turned up and he began to laugh, walking forward and throwing a clean blanket over the cushions and taking a seat himself. “Honestly I don’t really remember what happened last night, but Shoto did say some cryptic things about the living room.” He said, giggling at Uraraka’s reaction.

After a few more minutes of flailing and laughing, she finally sat down, smiling brightly. She was glad to see that he wasn’t an absolute wreck. When Izuku did things he regretted, he tended to be a mess for days. She had been especially worried today when he asked for hard drugs. He rarely did anything more than pot, so he knew he must be really upset.

“You promised snacks, but I have yet to see any food.” She commented, gesturing dramatically around the room that was still covered in trash. Izuku wished he had had the chance to clean before she had come over, but to be fair, he wasn’t even awake by the time she arrived.

“I swear you only ever come over for my food.” he muttered, standing back up and walking over to the cupboards. He almost expected them to be completely empty, but to his surprise those were still a few bags of chips amongst the others food. Maybe his friends had just missed them the night they were over, or maybe this was their way of apologizing for leaving him with Shoto. Either way at least this was food left to offer in return for whatever Uraraka had brought over. He grabbed some ruffles and what was left of the takis and threw them down in front of Uraraka. “This is the best I can offer, so eat up.” He slumped down next to her and sighed. He already felt better being in the company of one of his friends.

Uraraka immediately opened up the bag and began to scarff down the food as if it was the last meal she would ever eat. If she kept up like that she would probably end up puking on him. While she made quick work of the chips, he snatched his backpack and began to dig around, looking for whatever he could to calm his racing mind. Being in Uraraka’s presence was nice, but he needed something a little… stronger. Her mess of a bag had crumbled up papers, day old food wrappers and a variety of notebooks. Her computer was the one clean looking thing in the whole black hole, and he definitely didn't see any drugs. She had flaked out on him. Shit. He dropped it to the floor and let his head fall back, looking straight at the ceiling. It was stupid feeling so dissapointed over something like this. Asking his friends for drugs definitely wasn’t a healthy way to cope with whatever this was, but at some point in his life it was like he had just given up. Given up on being a good son, on his school work, on making something out of his life.

When he was a kid his mother would tell his that he was his brightest star and that he just needed to find his home. He thought he had found it with his Ex, but all he had come out with was addiction and depression. He had become so codependent with him, that the last couple months alone had felt like hell. Everyday he almost gave in and unblocked his number, just wanting to be able to have someone to lean back on, but his mothiss words stuck with him. As much as his kind touches and loving whisper would sing him into his sweet fantasies, it was hard to look past all of the time he would get mad or violent. He was so good with his words, and he used them as a weapon, bleeding Izuku of his indiscretions. It was hard to win a battle against someone who knew your everything. Shoto was his weakness and it was easy to exploit that.

Truth be told he would kill to just be able to sit down and talk to his mother, but he hadn’t seen her in person in over two years. It wasn’t that they hadn’t been close, but when he moved out his mother had moved to Europe. She never came back to visit, and Izuku never asked. If he called her right now and really wanted her to come home, he knew she would catch the first flight back, but he never said anything. Inko had had Izuku when she was only 19 and he had always felt guilty for taking away the prime of her life. His mother never showed it, but he had the feeling that she was missing something. This was always this longing look on her face, especially after his father died.

He barely remembered his dad, but everyone who knew him talked fondly of him. Inko always said that they were deeply in love and that she wouldn’t give up the time they had for the world. After he had passed away he said she felt very distant living at home. That’s why after Izuku had moved out for college she had gone to England.

He only realized he had been spacing out when he looked up to see Uraraka pulling a small gum tin from her pocket. “You looked so zoned out just now I thought you might already be buzzed” She said jokingly, sliding the lid off the container. Inside was a small pile of white paper strips with hearts on them. That was definitely stronger than weed.

He had only taken LSD once before and had a rough trip that felt like it lasted forever. his friends assured him it was only around seven hours, but it had felt like days. He had almost walked into a busy street towards the end of it, and hadn’t really tried it since. He wasn’t sure if he really felt like doing this, but at this point he felt bad refusing Uraraka when she had come all this way for him, not to mention she was giving it to him for free. Maybe it was out of obligation or self pity, but he opened his lips, sticking out his tongue and placed a tab in his mouth. It tasted like nothing and disintegrated instantly, leaving him waiting patiently for it to kick in.

He looked over at Uraraka who sighed and smiled at him. “It’s probably going to take at least 30 minutes to kick in. We should probably just settle in with a movie.” Without waiting for confirmation he grabbed a remote off the table and clicked on the tv. After a bit of scrolling through netflix they settled on the ring, a safe choice.

G

Izuku had settled into the couch and was deep into the movie when he thought he heard someone whispering behind his back. It almost sounded like the wind whistling in his head and it made his skin tingle. He ignored it at first, playing it off as his imagination but the words seemed to come closer, until they were right in his ear, mumbling nonsense he couldn’t make out. He whipped his head around, looking for the source, but was only meant with the empty apartment. He looked over to Uraraka to see if she was experiencing the same thing, but for some reason only half of her was sitting on the couch. From her waist down was right where she was supposed to be but the rest of her was nowhere in sight. This should have been alarming, but instead he found himself giggling, covering his mouth with his hand so Uraraka’s legs wouldn’t get mad at him. The closer he looked the funnier it became to him, and soon he was breaking out into a fit of laughter.

As he laughed he could see the sounds tumbling out of his mouth in bright colors that painted the whole room into a rainbow. All of the hues seemed to seep together into a psychedelic collage. He slowly stood, trying to gasp them between his fingers, only to stumble over, nearly face planting into the beer stained carpet. As he stared at it the ground seemed to boil and pop beneath his. He felt a pair of arms wrapped around his hoisting his back to his feet. He turned his head, to come face to face with Uraraka, who was back to being a whole person.

“I found the rest of you!” he said with triumph, a bubbly laugh erupting from his. Izuku could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear any of the words she was saying as she slowly set him back down on the couch. He was about to protest and stand again, when small black dots began to spot his vision. He blinked a few times, trying to get them to disappear, but they only seemed to grow, slowly clouding his vision.

He looked around for Uraraka, wanting to ask for help, but she was nowhere in sight. He began to shake his head violently, not understanding what was happening, but everything kept getting darker and darker. He was vaguely aware he was screaming, but he couldn’t seem to hear the sound. His throat began to get soar and he felt like he couldn’t breath. He began to take deep gulps of air, but it only made him more dizzy. Just as the last of his sight blacked out, he felt himself falling backwards, losing his strain of consciousness and collapsing into sleep

[maritimeericandersen]

Lost And Found

Grim and Max, finally, come to Swynlake. 

Benedict Grimsby was awoken in the middle of the night by the piercing ring of his telephone. Normally, he would have let whatever telemarketer it was leave their shoddy voicemail about how his national insurance number had been released and go back to sleep. 

But then the phone rang again. He let out a huff which then prompted Max to reply with a low woof from the other end of the bed. (That had been a war unfought. As soon as Max had stopped trying to scratch down Eric’s door and come to whine in Benedict’s room the invitation onto the bed had been a reluctant, Fine! But only for tonight.) 

A hand reached across the sheets toward the harsh source of light sitting on the bedside table. He squinted at the phone screen when he had managed to pull it free of the charger. The area code was unfamiliar. Swynlake? Who would be calling him from there? 

Benedict would have not bothered usually but it was the middle of the night and perhaps there was a bit of bitterness he wanted to get out for them having woken him up. “Hello?” 

“Hello, sir, we’re sorry to call you at this hour. Are you Benedict Grimsby?” 

“Yes.”

“We are calling about an Eric Andersen who was admitted here at the Swynlake General Hospital earlier tonight. It took us awhile to get his medical files forwarded to us, but you’re listed as his next of kin.” 

He sat up slowly, pressing the phone closer against his ear. “I’m sorry, who’s there?”

“Eric Andersen?” There was the sound of papers shuffling before the woman spoke again. “White male. Born January 7th, 2001.” 

“That can’t be right.” 

“What?”

“I said that can’t be right,” he told her a little more forcefully. “Eric Andersen has been missing for over a year and a half. I don’t know who you have in your hospital, but it can't be him.” 

“Well, I don’t know what else to tell you, sir. He was brought in by a Henry Charming who identified him.” 

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Two years ago he would have simply trudged down to whatever hospital, knowing full well that those two boys (but mainly Eric, since the Charming boy had always seemed to have more sense to him) had gotten themselves into trouble. But now, it just couldn’t be possible. Eric was dead. Not officially, but there had been no other survivors. Everyone had told him that there had been no chance. They were too far out for anyone, even an Olympic athlete in the best shape of their life, to have swam back to safety. He was gone. 

If Eric had survived he would have called. He would have come back at some point— if not for Grim than for his dog. 

“Sir?” the woman’s voice called him back from his thoughts. “Uh, Mr. Grimsby?”

“I’m here.” 

“Right.” A beat. “Just in case this is your Eric Andersen, he’s in stable condition now. If you would like to see him, you can.” 

“Could I speak to him?” 

“He’s actually still under the anesthetic from surgery, but we can always call you back when he wakes up.”

“How long will that be?”

“There’s really no telling. Everyone responds to it differently and given the extent of his injuries it may be a while. A few hours at minimum.” 

“Alright. Thank you.” 

“Of course, sir.” He started to pull the phone away but she spoke again. “I’ll see you when you get here. Drive safe.”  

The drive from Plymouth to Swynlake was supposed to have taken around 3 hours. For Benedict Grimsby, in the early hours of the morning when hardly anyone else was on the road and going well over the speed limit, it took him around 2 and a quarter. 

There had been no time for him to think clearly about this whole ordeal— something that being the guardian of that wretched boy had taught him oh too well. He had packed a back blindly, hooked the harness around Max, and shoved them both into the car. 

When he arrived at the hospital he didn’t know what to do with Max. He couldn’t very well leave him in the car. It may have been early morning before the sun had risen but it was still summer. So he took him on his harness into the building. 

Luckily Henry Charming was there, accompanied by two girls that Grim did not recognize and didn’t care to at the moment. He put Max in their care and turned to find a nurse gesturing for him. 

“Mr. Grimsby?” she asked as he approached, voice familiar. It took him a moment to place it.

“The nurse from the phone?” he countered and she smiled, nodding.

“Yes. I’m glad you’re here. Eric’s finally awake.” She turned to motion down the hall. “Would you like to go and see him now?” 

The walk to the room had been all too short. He’d spent the whole drive there trying to convince himself to not get his hopes up. Benedict was a practical person. All Grimsby’s were. 

But the Andersen’s had not been. 

His friendship with Aiden had been forged out of a strong grip and obnoxious stubbornness to win Benedict over. It hadn’t been a miracle or an act of fate or some such nonsense people like to spin poetry around. They had been friends because Aiden had willed it into the world and Benedict had no choice but to grow fond of him. 

Isla was not, by blood, an Andersen. When he had first met her she had been a Harrington. There was a steadiness to her that Aiden sorely lacked. Where he was made up of impulses and moved where he wanted, she had always been a pillar. She knew what she wanted and how she was going to go about getting it. And Aiden had followed her, all the way to the end. 

That had left Eric, a product of both parts, with Grimsby. 

Their will had been a shock to him. The lawyer had told him if he didn’t want to take responsibility then someone else would surely take the child. The Andersen’s had all passed, Aiden’s brother having gone long before him, but Isla still had family. He had contemplated the decision for a few days. It had been the practical thing to do, just as it would be to allow Eric to grow up among his family. 

He did not know why he accepted custody. Perhaps because it had been his friends’ last wish and the knowledge that they had entrusted the life of their son to him. 

There had always been doubt in the back of his mind that he was ill fit for the job. Every bruise and broken bone Eric had come back with had been allusions to this. What made it fact was when he had not come back at all.

A grand total of three Andersen’s had died on his watch. Now, one had returned and hadn’t even had the decency to call for the score to be settled.

In the time it took to get from the lobby to the hospital room he had not been able to really believe that he would find Eric inside. 

But then the door opened and there he was, looking up from where he had been staring out the window. That ridiculous grin bloomed across his face, elbows moving clumsily against the cushions to help him sit up. 

“Grim! You’re here!” 

Benedict turned his attention to the nurse who was already making her way out of the room. The door shut behind him with a resonating click. He took slow and measured steps over to the bed. 

“Look, I know you’re probably seething— and you’ve every right to be angry. I wanted to tell you. Every day! Every day I thought to myself, I need to call Grim, I need to tell him but I couldn’t.” Eric shook his head, the dark curls on his head bouncing. “How did you know I was here?”

Benedict didn’t answer, simply turned to focus on the leg that was wrapped up in bandages and sitting on a stack of pillows. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Eric waved a hand at it. “They’re making a bigger fuss of it than necessary.” 

His eyes traveled up to the various tubes attached to Eric’s arms. There were the usual suspects, an IV and medication. But the one for blood told him that the boy was lying, even if he didn’t realize it. 

Whatever had happened to him had been serious. 

And to think, he never would have known had Eric not been brought to a hospital. 

A whole calendar year had passed and then some, and Eric had not bothered to say anything.

“Grim?” Benedict blinked, eyes meeting Eric’s. He looked uneasy. An unusual emotion to find on the boy who was always so sure, so confident, so stubborn. “I know it’s bad. I know. But— say something? Even if it’s only anger.” 

It was true that Benedict felt anger but there was so much more there, too. Relief, hurt, happiness, utter devastation. He did not know which one to lean on first, which one could possibly hold control over all the others in order to choose the words in which to react. They were all so loud, so demanding, he could barely think with ease. 

A hand rose and reached forward to touch Eric’s shoulder. It was solid. The corner’s of Eric’s mouth quirked upward and he brought his hand up to lay on top. It had always been so easy for him. He had constantly taken Benedict’s hand or thrown his arms around the man in a hug. It was always something, that constant line of unspoken communication that he was there. 

Its absence had been staggering. 

Its sudden return felt worse somehow. Like a mended bone needing to be broken again in order to heal correctly this time over. 

All this time Benedict had been in mourning, trying to deal with the grief of the boy he thought to be dead. It had been killing him, slowly but surely. That reassuring touch seemed to be the reminder that the both of them were still alive. 

His grip on Eric’s shoulder tightened, no doubt painfully so, and he leaned forward to capture the boy in a hug. It was only then that he felt Eric’s hesitation, how it took him several seconds to bring his arms up and around to return it. But once they were there and met with no resistance, he seemed to relax, clutching on just as tightly. 

“I’m sorry, Grim.” His voice was quiet now, thick with emotion. 

He pulled away, hands coming up to clutch either side of Eric’s face just to look at him. Alive. Breathing. Not dead, lost in the sea like everyone had said he was. His eyes were glassy and skin pale, but it was still the Eric he remembered.

Grim shook his head in disbelief, laughing until it tapered into a sob and he had to hug Eric to him all over again. “You really delight in these sadistic strains on my blood pressure, don’t you?” 

Eric laughed then too, the sound of it watery and surprised. “Are you mad?” 

“Oh, I think what I’m feeling goes far beyond the scope of the English language. Enjoy it now because in several days when I get over you not being dead, I will have plenty of anger left.” With a sigh he pulled away. “What happened?” 

“It’s a long story.” 

“You say that as if you’ve never used that excuse before.” 

And so Eric told him everything. From top to bottom. About the wreck, getting saved, coming to Swynlake, getting a job, going to uni, telling Henry, avoiding Philip, Tom, and John like the plague, and getting attacked by a creature earlier that night. 

“Or should I say yesterday?” Eric glanced over to the window where the sky’s dark inky blue had lightened. The sun had not come up just yet, but it was only a matter of minutes. 

Grim didn’t say anything for a long time, having to mull all that information over in his mind. Again, there was too much emotion to deal with. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so much and so many all in the span of a few hours. 

“Grim?” He looked up to find Eric squinting at him. “Did I lose you somewhere?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno— like you’re the one sitting in the hospital bed with a leg that’s just been used for a chew toy.” 

Grim let out a breath through his nose. With one last look at Eric he sat up, getting ready to stand. “Thank you for telling me. It seems you’ve made quite a new life for yourself here.” 

Eric watched, confused, as Grim stood. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes.” 

“But— you just got here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Then why’re you going? I don’t understand.”

“Eric, had the hospital not called me tonight, would you have?”

Eric’s eyes drifted away from him then, falling on his hands that were fiddling with the blanket. “I don’t know.”

Grim nodded because he did. 

“But—! You’re here now! Can’t you stay?” 

“Why?” 

“What’d’ya mean why?” Eric scoffed. “Because I want you to.” 

“You didn’t want me here before.”

“Oh my god.” He rolled his eyes, arms lifting and falling heavily against the mattress. “Is that what you think? That I ran away from you?” 

“No. But you seem to be doing just fine here all on your own.” 

“I’m not! I wasn’t! I would’ve cracked a long time ago if it weren’t for other people. My boss, for one. My friends, too. I wouldn’t’ve gotten where I did if it weren’t for all of them.” Eric shook his head, one corner of his mouth raised up in a half smile. It disappeared after a moment when his eyes turned back on Grim. “And you. I wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren't for you.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“‘Course it is. What? You think 10 year old me could have done it all on his own?” Eric snorted. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Eric—”

“I’m sorry. That was rude, I know. Shouldn’t have said it.” He sniffled, swiping the sleeve of his hospital gown under his nose and making Grim cringe. “I know you’re the one who gets to be angry here and that I’ve no right to it since I hurt you but— but you can’t just go around saying that.” 

Grim blinked. 

He had seen Eric upset before. Several times over and in many different ways. Frustrated over his school work. Humiliated over something that had happened at training that had gotten him yelled at. Heart broken. Grieving. Name it, he had seen it— or he thought he had. But he had never seen this. 

“After I didn’t say anything those first few months I knew that when I did tell you I had to have done something. Otherwise it would have just been like every other time I called you to come get me out of something. I wanted—” Instead of finishing his sentence a shuttery breath left him and that alone stretched the moment into eternity. 

Finally Grim found enough courage to ask, “What did you want?” 

Eric turned to look up at him, jaw working itself for a moment until he finally relented. “I wanted to be someone that you could finally be proud of. Not just some idiot kid who ruined your life when my parents made you take me.” 

Grim understood then that all those other times, all those little moments when he thought he had failed Eric, this past year and a half he had thought there was nothing worse he could have done then allowed him to walk right to his own death— it’s absolutely nothing compared to the sound of those words. 

“Oh, Eric. They didn’t make me do anything. It was my choice and I’ve never regretted it, or you, for a moment.” He stepped closer to the bed again. “And I’ve always been proud of who you are.” 

Eric stared at him, searching. “Really? Even— even though I barely graduated from secondary?”

“Yes.”

“Even after I broke your client’s fancy vase that one time?”

“Yes.”

“Even after I brought home that pig?”

“I do hope you’re not referring to Max.”

“And—” Eric hesitated but eventually continued. “And even though I didn’t tell you I was okay?” 

“Of course I am. I may not be happy about it and I may want to wring your neck for what you put me through this past year. And you may have gone about your pursuit for the truth in a very— unorthodox way, but, if what you’ve told me is true and you have accomplished all of this here, then, yes. Yes, I’m proud of you. I always have been.” 

A familiar grin blossomed over Eric’s face that transformed it into something like the sunrise about to take place outside. It was so earnest and bright Grim could not help but smile in return. “Ah, Grim, I always tell people you’re a big softie, and no one ever believes me.” 

“Good. I’d rather like to keep it that way.”

“So— this mean you’re staying?” 

“If you want me to.”

“Always.” Eric reached out to clasp Grim’s forearm. He turned his head, a shoulder lifting. “And I mean, if you’re not going to disown me over this then there’s really nothing worse I can do, is there?” 

“Don’t test it.”

“Believe me, Grim, I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.” He tugged on Grim’s arm until he was seated back in his chair. “You’re going to love this place! Don’t worry, it’ll be great.” 

Grim nodded. Odd how easy it was to slip back into their respective roles. How Eric made even the most complex of situations such as this one sound so simple. For now, Grim supposed he could believe him. “I’m sure it will.” 

A pause. 

“Hey Grim? Did you bring Max?” 

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Operation Sweet Surprise (2/3)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Warnings: Cursing 

Inside the store, you began hunting down the items you needed with Lester in tow. He offered to hold the basket for you so you could focus on making sure you got exactly what you were after.

“Okay, Lester. We need: milk, pie crust, vanilla extract, cinnamon, brown sugar, baking powder, and eight apples. So, if you see anything and I don’t just toss it in the basket!” you told him as your eyes started scanning the shelves.

“Yes, ma’am!” Lester said with a playful salute. 

One by one, you found each ingredient, checking them off your mental list as you went. Throughout your expedition, you couldn’t help but notice other shoppers keeping their distance from you two. Of course, you knew exactly why they were acting this way. The smell of roadkill lingering on Lester’s raggedy exterior offended their delicate senses. The way some made a show of holding their breath or how their side eyes were more like dead on stares was not lost on you. It certainly wasn’t lost on Lester. With every murmur and scoff, he would offer an apologetic smile and a wave, but you could see his head sink lower and lower each time. This sort of thing didn’t always bother him, but sometimes it was hard to ignore. People always assumed he was oblivious to how his presence affected them, but he was more than aware. Frankly, he wished they would quit reminding him. Though every part of you wanted to snap at each shopper that passed you by, you elected to focus on lifting Lester’s spirits to distract him,

“Alright, all that’s left is to pick out some apples! C’mon and help me out!” you said with the biggest smile you could muster. You’d rather be glaring daggers, but you knew the other shoppers were hardly worth it. You took Lester’s hand and pulled him toward the small produce section “Which kind of apples do you think Bo would like best?”

“Not sure…” Lester said looking back and forth, checking to make sure no one was staring again, “Maybe I oughta wait in the truck. Don’t wanna bother no one else from their shopping.”

“No, don’t go! I need you!” you begged, “Besides, who cares what they think?”

“Well, I’m used to it. Just don’t want ‘em thinkin’ bad of ya, is all.” He said shyly

“Oh, please, don’t worry about that. I like spending time with you, Lester. I don’t give a shit about any of them. Who needs them?” You said, waving off his concern with a laugh “Now, help me pick out some apples.” The smile reached Lester’s eyes this time as he helped you pick out the best apples out of the bunch.

Once you had your apples picked, something caught your glance over Lester’s shoulder. It was an elderly woman, reaching for a box of cereal that was clearly too high on the shelf for her to get. Lester followed your eyes and immediately handed the basket over to you. He quickly made his way over to the lady. You followed close behind, catching the interaction,

“I can get that for ya, if ya like.” Lester offered sweetly with his signature grin. The woman staggered back, affronted at his proximity. She put a hand over her nose and mouth, her sour expression still apparent. Though she scowled at him, Lester kept smiling back at her. When she remained silent, he pointed to the box he thought she wanted, “This one? Good choice! Ya know, I hear this one’s good for the heart. Supposed to keep ya young and spry.” She didn’t reply, tapping her foot impatiently. He pulled the box down from the shelf and held it out to her, “There ya go. Need help with anythin’ else?”  

“No.” she said shortly, as she ripped the box from his hands and turned away.

“Alright…have a nice day, I guess.” Lester said, frustration showing through, “Just tryin’ to help ya.”

“Excuse me!” You piped in, “My friend just helped you, and I think you’re being incredibly rude to him.”

“Y/N, it’s alright-”

“No, it isn’t. You helped her and she treated you like garbage.” You said angrily. You were tired of watching people walk all over him. He might’ve been good enough to let it go, but you weren’t, “Who raised you? Didn’t anyone teach you anything about kindness?”

“How dare you speak to me like that? You should learn to respect your elders, young lady.” the old woman finally responded, “In my day, helping older folks was expected. Our generation didn’t need a pat on the back every time we did the bare minimum. What do you want? A reward?”

“Well, I grew up at least saying a ‘thank you’ when someone helped me. I don’t think that’s asking a lot. Just want you to treat my friend with a bit of decency.” You snapped, your knuckles turning white as you tightened your grip on your basket.

“Decency? I’ve shown plenty of decency by not demanding you both be thrown out of the store. I don’t usually tolerate uncivilized spoiled brats, like you two.” The woman stuck up her nose and pinched it, “You reek of squalor, so it seems to me you were the ones who are lacking an upbringing.”

“Uncivilized? Lady, you’re the one who doesn’t have any god damn manners! If anyone’s acting uncivilized here, it’s you!” you hissed venomously, taking a step toward the woman. Lester stopped you in your tracks, allowing the woman to turn and shamble away cursing you under her breath, both offended and threatened by you.

“Hey, hey, don’t pay any attention to her. She ain’t worth it.” Lester said, patting your shoulder.

“She shouldn’t be allowed to treat you like that.” You said still a bit heated.  

“It’s like ya said, ‘Who needs ‘em?’” Lester said surprisingly relaxed about the whole situation, “But let’s get goin’ ‘fore she gets us kicked out like she said.”

You started toward the register and got in line. There were quite a few people ahead of you as everyone was out getting their groceries for the week, no doubt. Lester took the basket back as you waited together. You were about to ask him about cleaning animal bones to lighten the mood before he chimed in first,

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“For what?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

“Stickin’ up for me ‘n all. It sure was somethin’.” He said with a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, “I know I don’t smell too great, so bein’ with me ain’t always fun. But ya never treat me any worse for it, and it means a lot.”

“Aw, Lester, you don’t have to thank me for that. I enjoy spending time with you, it’s hardly a chore.” You said as you rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Still…I know I yammer on and I don’t know when to shut up. Most people can’t stand me, it ain’t a secret. Didn’t make too many friends growin’ up ‘cuz of it and it didn’t get any easier once I started workin’…” Lester explained, “I tried to keep the smell off, but it’s harder than it looks, ya know. And after a while, I figured if people don’t want anythin’ to do with me anyway, I might as well just leave it be.”

“Lester…” you said sympathetically, trying not to knock the basket out of his hands and wrap him up in a hug and protect him from the world.

“’Sides, I love my job. I really do. And if I smell, I can make like that’s the reason people don’t like me.” He added with a half-hearted laugh to take the edge off the truth of it all “Anyway, just wanted to thank ya for bein’ nice to me.”

Before you could respond, it was your turn to check out. Lester instantly starting chatting away with the cashier, going on about knives and the small items for sale at the register. You smiled to yourself, watching him. Even if others continued to put him down, Lester always got right back to it. You had no idea how he kept going sometimes. You attention was drawn away from him as the total came up on the screen.

“Shit.” You cursed quietly to yourself. You counted your money back, hoping maybe you had more than you thought, to no avail. You were five dollars short. You looked over your items trying decide what you could part with. All of them were necessary to the recipe so you not only could you not decide, you were embarrassed that you had underestimated how much you’d need to spend.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Lester whispered as he leaned in, also looking at the groceries, “Missin’ somethin’?”

“I don’t have enough…” you trailed off, trying to work through a solution in the next two minutes, trying not to keep others waiting whilst also not drawing attention to your crisis

“Apples?” Lester suggested, “I’ll run on back and get some more, if ya need!”

“Money…I don’t have enough for everything.” You said, unable to stop your voice from shaking from the sudden tears that brimmed in your eyes. Lester snapped to attention at the tremble in your voice.

“Aw, please don’t cry! How much do ya need?” he asked as he scrambled to comfort you. He rubbed awkward circles into your back, moving you back and forth with his clumsy motions. Even in distress, you found his gesture to be sweet.

“Five dollars.” You confessed as your face went hot with anxiety.

“That ain’t so bad! I got it!” Lester said happily, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled bill. He might have said it like wasn’t a big deal, but you knew money was always tight for the Sinclairs. While Lester did make the most steady income out of all of them, he didn’t have a whole lot of money to throw around, “See, don’t need to panic!”

“You don’t have to do this! You work hard for your money, I can ditch something, I think. Don’t waste it on me.” You said in a panic. You’d already asked so much of him already; you couldn’t let him do this too.

“Well, I do work hard. So, I suppose that means I can spend my money how I want.” Lester said cheekily. He gathered up your money with his and handed it over, “And I wanna give it to ya. ‘Sides, I oughta pitch somethin’ in. It’s for my brothers after all.”

“Thank you, Lester…I really owe you.” you said as your apprehension drained from your posture and voice. You almost cried from his generosity, rather than humiliation.

“Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Lester said sweetly, nudging your shoulder to help you shake off the sadness that had almost overtaken you. He carried your groceries toward the door and back to the truck, “C’mon we gotta lotta bakin’ to do!”  

You were a bit distracted on the ride back. Lester was chattering on about skulls again, but your mind wandered back to what he said while you waited in line. You wouldn’t say you’d done anything extraordinary for him. All you did was talk to him and treat him like any human should be treated. Still, that was more than he’d ever received from anyone. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Beside you was a man who has always been treated like he wasn’t worth the time. No one cared about what he had to say or how he felt, and they told him so to his face. Despite all that, he still turned out to be incredibly generous, kind, helpful, and by far the most warmhearted person you knew.

And it wasn’t because the insults and the neglect went over his head. You knew he felt the sting of it all. It was because he kept moving along. You had no idea how he was able to let it all roll off his back, but you simply attributed it to Lester being remarkable. Sure, he got disappointed when others didn’t want to talk to him, but he never got too hung up on it for long. He was always able to find joy in other parts of his life. Not only that, he was capable of sharing that joy with others; at least, he was always willing. Lester had a heart of gold and it left a bitter taste knowing that if life had been fairer – or society more kind – he’d might have become something truly special. Not that you didn’t like him just as he was; you thought he was wonderful. It was just such a shame that he had so many wonderful things to offer and you were the only one who could see that. All because his chances were spoiled before he ever really got to living.

“Do you ever get mad, Lester?” you asked, accidentally cutting him off from his rant about knives.

“Sure, I do. Sometimes.” Lester said with a goofy grin still pulling as his face. His smile turned into curiosity and a bit of confusion as he thought over your question a second time, “Wait, mad ‘bout what?”

“I don’t know. Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Different how?”

“Like, do you ever think about what it might’ve been like if you were born somewhere else or into a different life entirely? Like all the what ifs and maybes? Just for fun?” you added

“Hmmm…” Lester thought out loud, “Nope.”

“Really? Never?” you asked in disbelief.

“Naw, I like what I got.” He said smiling once again, never more content, “And ‘sides, I got you now. Wouldn’t know ya if I was born someplace else. Don’t wanna go riskin’ that, do I?” you felt your heart skip a beat and blood rush to your cheeks.

“And they say Bo’s the one with all the charm.” You mumbled to yourself, catching a glimpse of Lester, oblivious and carefree as ever. He really had no clue how incredible he was.

[hoseokutie]

Best Friends Baby 9

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Words: 4.5K

Warnings: Kissing, Minor swearing, Minor smut, Jimin x Reader, Grinding, Boob grabbing, Pregnant!Reader, Reader chokes on food?

                                                 ******************** April 16th, 2019 23 Weeks It’s been three weeks since your gender reveal and so far things have been the same. Besides the fact that you and Jimin however can’t seem to keep your hands off of one another and you still haven’t told anybody about your secret hangouts either, but besides that, everything was the same for the most part. Oh, and you and Namjoon haven’t talked about your relationship status once, like at all. You two are acting like two strangers having a baby. It sucks when one person still considers the other to be their best friends, but unfortunately you and Joon both suck at the thought of confrontation. As a result, you two kept your conversations at a minimum, and whenever he did seem to check-in, it’s only ever about the baby. “You know we may need to say something soon, right?” Jimin asked, luring you out of your thoughts. “Yeah soon, not now.” You smiled at him and went back to eating your snack. He took the bowl from your hands and placed it down on the coffee table nearby, you pouted and reached for it again. He prevented you by gently grabbing your hands and clutched them in his lap. “Are you ashamed of what happened that night? It’s alright, to be honest about something like this. I’m an adult, I can take it.” He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You sighed out loud and looked down at your hand in his. It’s not that you were ashamed of what happened that night, you just were nervous about how everyone would react. “No Chim, I’m not ashamed at all. I guess I’m just nervous?” You shrugged and leaned back against the pillows on the couch.   He leaned back on the couch as well and held your hand in his own to try and calm down your nerves. “We don’t have to tell anybody anything until you’re ready.” He looked over at you and provided you with a look of reassurance. You smiled at the gesture and leaned over so that you were supporting your head on his chest, he shifted his body so that the two of you could lay comfortably on the couch together. You cuddled into his side and let your armrest over his torso. He held you closer to his side and kissed your forehead. You looked up at him and held his face in your hands rubbing his jaw with your thumb. 

“You are too damn attractive.” You whispered before placing your lips against his and pulling his body closer to your own. He instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist and rubbed his hand up and down your back. His touch left your skin warm and tingly, your fingers started pulling off the piece of fabric from his body. He put you in his lap and pulled down the straps to your dress at a teasingly slow pace, you bit your lip in anticipation, he smirked at your reaction and let the straps fall down your arms. You withdrew your arms from the area and let the dress fall down your body, the sight of your bare upper half made a tent form in Jimin’s pants. He lured you in for another kiss, this one more forceful and assertive than the last. A moan slipped past your lips and onto his own, his hands made their way up your torso and he gently massaged your breast with his hands. 

You threw your head back at the feeling of his gentle hands caressing all over your body. Your hips moved back and forth against his lap and one his hands squeezed your ass in response. A deep knock on the door caused you both to halt your movements and stare at the door in unison, your faces heating up, not because of the hormones, but because whoever was at Jimin's front door damn near made both of you have a heart attack. “Is someone supposed to be coming over today?” You asked in a low voice, moving from his lap as quickly as you could. “No, not that I know of. W-who is it?”He asked as he stood up quickly and looked around for his shirt with urgency. When he couldn’t find it on the floor, he looked upon the couch again and let out a small gasp at the sight of his shirt stuck between the couch cushions. “It’s Taehyung! Just stopping by to visit, I have food!” He announced excitedly, his hands were full of snacks and all he desired was for Jimin to open the door so that he could set his poor hands free. You styled your hair and sat back against the couch, picking up your phone and opening up a random app quickly to make things seem normal. “Oh cool! I’m coming!”Jimin ran his fingers through his hair and fixed his shirt. He looked at you and lifted your chin with his finger, placing another kiss on your lips. You smiled at the gesture and kissed him back eagerly, gently hitting his arm and pointing at his front door. He stood up completely and opened the front door for his friend. He took one of the bags and stepped to the side, allowing his best friend to enter his house. “Oh thank goodness, I felt like my hand was going to fall off if you didn’t answer the door,” Taehyung exclaims when he enters Jimin's house. You chuckled at his statement and smiled brightly when Taehyung poked his head past the wall and smiled widely at your presence on the couch. “Y/N! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How’s everything been going?” He walked over and sat down on the couch next to you. “Well I was over on this side of town visiting my sister, and I decided to pay Jimin a visit. I didn’t really feel like going home just yet.” You replied and he nodded his head. To be fair, you were in fact helping your sister look for a new apartment that just so happened to be close to this area, so it wasn't a complete lie. “I see, how have you been holding up with the baby and Namjoon thing?” He asked, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and Jimin poked his head in bringing the other snacks. “Y/N would you like to join us, we’re just watching movies and playing games?” Jimin asked, you could tell he tried to change the subject. “Yeah sure, Tae um, what did you mean when you asked me about Namjoon?” You didn’t mean to brush off Jimin's question, but you were also curious as to what Taes' question implied. “Shit.” He mumbled, when he realized that you were oblivious to what had been happening. “Well you might as well tell her now since you already brought it up.” Jimin sat next to you on the couch and avoided eye contact with you. “Okay, before I go on, I just want to say that I had no idea that you were unaware of what was going on,” Taehyung warned, and you nodded your head in understanding. “So Joon and Naomi started seeing each other again, and by seeing each other, I mean they’re dating.” His voice became fainter towards the end of his statement and he cleared his throat. You turned to look at Jimin behind you as if asking for some sort of confirmation of the news that you just heard. He sighed before nodding his head in agreement to what you were thinking. “I-I’m sorry Y/N, my intentions weren’t to hurt your feelings or anything. I assumed you knew.” The poor boy said, trying to keep eye contact with you as you looked back at him. You gave him a genuine smile and placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that things were okay. “Taehyung you don’t have to apologize, this isn’t on you. I’m not bothered.” You smiled at him, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you lying straight through your teeth. “Joon and I aren’t technically together, so he can feel free to do or be with whoever he likes.” Jimin’s eyes widened slightly at the words that just left your lips, Taes face having nearly the same expression as the man sitting behind you on the couch. 

You looked at both of them and chuckled at their expressions.  

“Why are you two looking at me like that; it’s true!” You exclaimed as you crossed your arms and sat back on the couch.

“I’m just a little surprised that you’re accepting this so well,” Taehyung said, getting comfortable against the couch.  

When it truly came down to it, you genuinely had no clue why you felt upset, to begin with; you and Namjoon have both established how you feel for one another many times. You both agreed to allow time to take its course, and this is what life is throwing at you both.

“Well since we’re all being honest with one another, I would be a bit of a hypocrite if I were to get mad at him.” You said, Jimin sat up a bit and looked at you quickly. You looked back at him and gently placed your hand on his chest smiling slightly at him. “I’ve been seeing someone as well.” You looked at Tae and watched as his smiling face quickly held a blank stare. “Y/N! Are you sure you want to-” Jimin interjected before you cut him off. “It’s fine, neither of you know who he is. He’s an old friend from high school. We found each other a few weeks ago and started hanging recently.” You looked between the both of them and tried not to laugh at their expressions. You knew it was terrible to lie, in fact lying was something that made you feel shitty, but you decided to let your emotions get the best of you and your mind. You cringed in slight discomfort when you noticed that the baby’s kicks became a bit more frequent. “You okay?” Jimin asked, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach. You nod your head and try shifting into a more pleasant position on the couch. 

Taehyung held your legs and carefully placed them in his lap, trying to help relieve you of some of the discomfort. “So, tell me more about this man you’ve been seeing, what’s his name?” Taehyung asked, leaning his head on his palm so he could see you and Jimin. “‘I’m not saying anything, well not yet at least. All I’ll say is that you and Jimin are the only two out of our friend group that knows anything.” You grabbed a bag of chips and opened them up, offering some to the boys before you took some for yourself. “Well I also want to know more about this mystery man too.” Jimin looked down at you and you smiled up at him, shaking your head no. “You’ll meet him whenever I decide that the time is right.” You put a chip in his mouth, and he ate it in return. “So, what movie are we watching?”

                                                   ********************

After a few movies, a pizza, You and Taehyung kicking Jimin’s ass in video games and a deep talk about life, it was finally time for the three of you to go your separate ways. “It was great seeing you again Y/N, now that we know what the baby is, Kira and I have to take you shopping.” He said, you raised an eyebrow at the mention of your best friends name. “Kira?” Jimin asked, giving Tae a small smirk. Taehyung cleared his throat and nervously chuckled shaking his head, grabbing some food for the road. “Did I say Kira, oh boy I must be really tired, I meant Kookie. Yup, alright goodnight everybody!” Taehyung scurried to the door and closed it behind him. “I will say I did not see that coming.” You mumbled to yourself. You turned to look at Jimin while crossing your arms, and bit your lip nervous for the question you were about to ask. “Hey Chim, how come...how come you never told me about Namjoon and Naomi?” His actions halted and he stood up fully. “I didn’t want you to get upset, and I noticed how your emotions changed when you two stopped talking, and I didn’t want to make things worse. I’m sorry.” He confessed. You nodded your head in response and looked down at your feet. Part of you wanted to be upset that Jimin didn’t tell you sooner, but the other half also understood why he kept the news to himself. “Thank you for being honest with me. I really do appreciate it.” You walked over to him and gave him a warm hug. He wrapped his arms around you in return and rested his chin on top of yours, rubbing his hands up and down your back. You pulled away and kissed his cheek, grinning at the blush that formed on his cheeks. “I have to get ready to go, I have a morning shift at the hospital and I need to be asleep 8.” You informed him, moving from his hold to grab your things. “Hey, before you go. Is there any particular reason why you didn’t tell Taehyung that it’s me you’re seeing?” Jimin asked, sitting on the side of his couch. “If I’m being honest, it was more of a heat of the moment thing. Which I know is a shitty excuse, but it’s the truth. I wasn’t thinking and by the time I tried stopping myself before it was too late. Deep down inside I know that just wouldn’t be fair to you if I dragged you into that

” You explained, standing in between his legs and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. “So it’s not because you’re embarrassed of me?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Park Jimin, I am in no way embarrassed of you or your presence. I just, I like the thrill of having you as my little secret if that makes sense. Namjoon can have his fun, so can I.” You gave him a side smile and he pulled you closer. “So what we’re doing is just for fun?” He asked, his voice dropping a bit as his hands make their way up your thigh. “For right now, who knows what could happen in the future.” Your fingers made their way into his hair, giving his black locks a bit of a squeeze. “Well I may be unable to see deep into the future, but I would like to see myself deep inside of you in the next few minutes. If you don't mind, of course.” He stood up and looked down at you with a glint in his eyes.

You let out a small whimper at his tone of voice and pulled him down by the collar of his shirt to press your lips against his. He picked you up in his arms and walked towards his bedroom, you held onto him tightly and peppered small kisses on his neck and up his jaw. “Why don’t we finish what we started, yeah?” He asked, closing the door with his foot and gently placing you onto the bed. “You seem to have read my mind.”

                                          *****************

April 18th, 2019

23 Weeks 

“Alright sweetie, just make sure you take the medicine that the doctor prescribed for you twice a day, keep the area as clean as possible, and if the pain is still there after you’ve taken the medication, schedule an appointment.�� You smiled at the patient and help them off the exam table. 

“Thank you so much for your help, congratulations on the baby! If you don’t mind me asking, what are you having?” The patient asked, leaning on the wall.

You smiled at the question and rubbed your stomach over your blue-covered scrubs.

“I’m having a little girl.” You said proudly, getting excited about her arrival three months from now.

“You are going to absolutely love being a mother of a girl. They say that baby girls are a blessing.” She said sweetly and you giggled lowly.

“Yes they are.” A man’s voice said from the door, causing you to look up at the man who caught you and your patients attention. 

“Is this the baby’s father?” She asked looking up at the handsome man in front of you both.

“No, it’s not this is just a good friend of mine.” You smiled as Jimin lowered his sunglasses and gave you a nice and not so subtle wink. 

The patient looked between you and Jimin and nodded her head, giving both of you a special look. 

“Thank you again nurse Y/N,” She said before moving past Jimin and to the front desk.

“Mr. Park, do you have an appointment?” You asked, washing your hands at the sink.

“I do actually, I’m here to see Nurse Y/N for our 2:30 lunch appointment, I’m a little late due to traffic and her special order took a bit longer than expected.” He said playing along.

“Her special order you say?” You dried your hands and disposed of the paper towel in the trashcan nearby.

“Some would say it’s her favorite.” He holds up the bag with takeout inside, being pregnant has made your sinuses much more sensitive to smells. And the fragrance from that bag in Jimin’s hand damn near made you salivate at the mouth. 

“Someone looks hungry.” He watched as you stared at the bag of food in awe.

“I just have to clock out, give me a second.” You walked out of the patient’s room and went to clock out on the timeclock near the receptionist's desk. 

“If I am not mistaken, that is not the beautiful man that you are having a baby. Nonetheless,  that is still a beautiful man.” Your coworker pointed out.

You chuckled at your coworker’s observation and finished clocking out, grabbing your purse on the way.

“You are in fact correct, that’s just my best friend. He likes to bring me lunch from the restaurants he goes to.” You responded, and she nodded her head in understanding.

“That’s that hot guy who owns the food blog!” Another coworker chipped in and you could hear Jimin chuckle from nearby.

“That would be him, Park Jimin in the flesh. Now if you’ll excuse me, my daughter and I have some very delicious food to devour.” You slung your purse over your shoulder and waved your coworker’s goodbye.

“So your coworkers know that I have a food blog?” He asked as you two stood in front of the elevators.

“You have a very noticeable face.” You shrugged your shoulders and take a sip from your water bottle.

“Never heard that one before.” He mumbled, stepping into the elevator, letting you step on first. 

“So what’s your plan, you’ve got me for an hour.” You looked up at him and waited for an answer.

“How does lunch at the tables outside sound. It’s a nice area and close to where you need to be, that way you don’t have to walk too far.” He pointed out, and you grinned at the idea.

“Knowing how much junk food I’ve eaten, I could probably walk a few more miles.” You said jokingly. and Jimin gently tapped your shoulder.

“Oh I am just kidding, you are too cute.” You walked over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He turned just in time to turn that kiss on the cheek into a quick kiss on the lips. Holding your face with one hand. 

A ding from the elevator caused both of you to pull away simultaneously, you bite your lip as you pulled away and Jimin chuckled in return.

You both left the elevator and make your way to the lunch tables outside of the hospital, you both found a nice shady spot under a tree and get comfortable.

You helped Jimin unpack all of the food and clapped your hands when you see that he brought you one of your favorite meals.

“There’s the reaction that I was waiting for.” He pointed at the excited look on your face.

“You got a pregnant woman her favorite food, of course, I’m going to react like this.” You said matter of factly.

You began to eat your meal and closed your eyes as the delicious food collided with your taste buds.

“Thank you so much.” You said after finishing the first few bites of food.

“It’s my pleasure. Seeing you full and happy is an honor.” He said, finally taking a bite from his meal, nodding happily at the taste.

“See, you get it.” You chuckled, and he put his hands up in defense.

“Y/N, Jimin?” A voice called out from behind you.

You turned around with a confused look on your face and a mouth full of food,

“Namjoon, what’s up?” Jimin asked since you were still trying to chew the contents that were in your mouth.

Namjoon looked over at your large cheeks and had to force himself to look away before he laughed or made a silly comment.

“I was here to talk to our chipmunk friend over here, but I see you’ve beat me to it. What are you two doing, going on a date?” Namjoon asked jokingly, taking a seat across from you.

You laughed nervously and choke on whatever food you couldn’t get down your throat, holding your hand up to your chest.

Jimin and Namjoon both reacted quickly and offered you their drinks at lightning speed, as if it were some sort of contest.

You stared at the drinks in front of you before just grabbing your own water bottle from your spot next to the table, waving them both away as the cool liquid relaxed your throat and intense heartburn that was next to come. 

The boys took their bottles back, and Namjoon cleared his throat.

“So what are you two doing together?” He asked again and this time you were able to speak up without nearly dying.

“Jimin is bringing me a new dish from one of the restaurants on his blog. I asked him to surprise me with it, and he did.” You looked over at Jimin and smiled.

“Cute, that was very sweet of you Chim,” Joon said, patting Jimin on the back.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to contain the attitude from showing in your words. 

“I’m here for you.” He replied, getting straight to the point.

Jimin looked between the both of you, quickly looking down at the grass to try and avoid the tension in his best friends eyes.

“I’m going to let you two talk, Y/N let me know what you think about the food! Namjoon, you and I will hang out later.” Jimin said, and Namjoon gave him a hug before telling him goodbye.

You smiled and waved goodbye to Jimin as he made his way to his car. You looked down at your food, this helped avoid eye contact with Namjoon, and you didn’t have to watch Jimin walk away.

“So, how has everything been?” The older man asked, breaking the silence between you two.

“The baby is fine, she is the size of a grapefruit, she’s almost a foot long and loves kicking me when I want to take a nap.” You informed him and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“That’s really adorable, but I did mean you this time.” He said and you were a bit taken back, he hasn’t asked about you in weeks and now he suddenly wants to know how you’re feeling.

“I’m uh. I’m alright. My body aches sometimes but I’ll be okay. It’s normal.” You answered his question and he smiled at you.

“How are you?” You repeated his question and awaited his answer.

“I’ve been good. Taking time to reflect on myself and work and becoming a dad.” He said, and you nodded at his response. 

“I heard you and Naomi started seeing each other again.” You blurted out, mentally cursing yourself out for seeming blunt.

When you caught his expression, he seemed a bit taken back, but also like he was expecting you to ask him about her.

“Yeah, we uh. We’re back together, we just made it official maybe a week and a half ago.”

“Well congratulations! I hope she treats you well.” You put more food in your mouth to avoid saying anything else.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry that I’ve been so distant lately. I haven’t been trying to avoid you on purpose. I swear.” He said quickly, as if he had been holding that in for a while.

You looked over at him and placed your hands on top of his larger ones as a form of reassurance.

“I’m sorry too, I don’t resent you nor am I mad. I’m just confused. I’m confused about how I’m feeling. I’m confused about being a mom, and I am so fucking confused about how I feel.” You poured out and he gently shushed you before you started crying. 

“Hey, it is going to be alright, we will get through this. We always do, I’m sorry if this is so out of nowhere, but I just needed to tell you before I lost my mind. How about I come over after work and we talk about this. When does your shift end?” He asked, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I get off at around six tonight.” You sniffled a bit and cleared your throat to hide your shaky voice. 

“Can I come over around seven?” He asked, and you immediately nodded in return, giving him a small smile.

“That’s a perfect idea. I’m sure she would love to hear your voice in person.” You looked down at your stomach, and he smiled.

“Can I touch your stomach?” He shyly asked, you found it cute how he went from being bold to shy and gentle when it came to you.

“Of course.” You accepted his request and took his large hand, placing it on your stomach.

“Is she sleeping?” He asked, moving his hands around on your stomach.

“I just ate so she might be, she likes to nap after we eat.” You giggled and leaned back on the seat.

Namjoon gave you a sweet look, and chuckled lightly, letting his hands rest on yours.

“I missed hearing that sound.” He told you and you gave him another small smile.

“I missed my best friend.” 

Namjoon stood up from his seat and gently pulled you up with him, he pulled you into his arms for a hug and sighed out at the feeling of your body pressed against his tall frame. 

Your eyes widened, but you wrapped your arms around his waist and held on like it was the last time you would ever hold him. You inhaled the scent of his cologne and held him closer to you, pressing your face more into his shirt.

“I missed you too.”

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 1x10 Review

Act 2 was a great finale that capped off a great season though somewhat marred by Disney censorship. Let’s dig in!

Finally Ricky and Nini have found their way back to each other. Sweet callback to Ricky lighting Nini up with his phone as Nini does the same. Breaking Free was great though I had to keep pausing during the EJ to Ricky transition because it was so cringey. Ricky and Nini really do have the best chemistry on the show and it shines through this ep. Joshua did a great job improvising Ricky’’s confession to Nini as did Olivia reacting to it. Tim mentioned in an interview that originally Ricky was supposed to tell Nini that he thinks he kinda you knows in a callback to the premiere but on set he realized that it was too cheesy and decided to let Joshua come up with a confession based on memories of his and Olivia’s real life friendship. That was certainly the steamiest kiss we’ve yet seen on Disney + but it was well earned

 It speaks well of Tim that he recognized that his own writing wasn’t good enough and that he trusted his actors to take charge. It also goes to show how much of a difference it makes having the showrunner actually on set in Salt Lake, whether that was Tim or Disney’s decision. It’s a sharp contrast with Andi Mack where Terri the showrunner was based in LA and only rarely visited set while Michelle Manning was the producer in charge in Salt Lake, a split which I think hurt the show in some ways

That rainbow heart sign from the Mathew-Smith family was lovely. It’s great to see Seb’s family of Utah farmers being so supportive. This also confirms that Seb is out to his family, and since Miss Jenn seemed to greet Carlos’ father near the beginning of the ep it’s likely that Carlos is also out to his family

A historic first for Disney with a Seblos cheek kiss. Though of course while it’s progress it still isn’t equality. It’s not so much the Rini kisses that really drives home the inequality since they’re the main couple and were always going to kiss in the finale but rather it’s the Redlyn kiss. It’s not like Redlyn has gotten any real development nor did their story line really need a kiss so early. They got to kiss simply because they’re straight. That being said, it does once more show that the limits are looser on Disney +, we never would have gotten even a Tyrus cheek kiss on Disney Channel

Unfortunately Disney for the second ep this season released promotional photos of Seblos scenes that were cut from the episode itself. It’s not queerbaiting in the traditional sense but it is baiting the audience as they know that a lot of people are very invested in Seblos and seeing that rep on screen and Disney is willing to use that to draw in viewers while cutting the actual on screen rep down. What’s worse is that if it wasn’t for Disney itself letting us know that these scenes existed we’d never know that Seblos scenes were being cut. And of course, it’s a waste of time and money for the show to film these scenes only for them to be cut. A big complaint with Seblos this season has been their lack of development but that seems to be less on the writers who are in fact giving them more scenes then on Disney which is cutting them down to the bare minimum

It’s all shameless triangulation on Disney’s part, trying to be progressive but not so progressive as to alienate conservatives. It’s not like any homophobes are still watching the show after Seblos got together. So far it seems like the Disney censorship on HSMTMTS is coming mainly in post production like it was in Andi Mack S2 with the cut bash mitzvah scene and the edited look back which is awful but is still better than the much heavier censorship we saw in Andi Mack S3 that was coming in pre-production when things like Cyrus being able to talk about his feelings for TJ and vice versa were just never being written. Hopefully Seb being a main character in S2 means that the censorship lessens at least a bit or at the very least stays in the post production stage

In an interview done early on in the season, Tim talked about sometimes taking giant leaps and some times taking small steps in terms of the representation on the show and know we have a much better sense of what that means in practice. There was the giant leap of Seblos getting together at Homecoming and the small step of them kissing on the cheek. Afaik Tim hasn’t addressed the Seblos cheek kiss which is probably for the best and if he does I hope he has the good grace to not lie to the audience about his ability to have gotten an actual Seblos kiss approved. I do think we’ll eventually see a Seblos kiss though I think the earliest that could happen would be the S2 finale

Very telling that Ashlyn assumes EJ is behind Ricky’s exit and not a good look on EJ’s part to not tell Miss Jenn at least that Ricky left. . Good for him though for playing to lose and giving up the role of Troy to help Nini and Ricky. Confirmation that he paid for Gina’s ticket and we got our first Hell Yeah on the show. I don’t like it but it does seem like that scene was set up for Portwell in S2; at the very least it seems like Gina may have started to feel something for EJ

Pour one out for those poor audience members having to sit through that trainwreck of a second act. You know you’re really in trouble when you have to send your choreographer out there as an understudy

I loved Big Red’s little xylophone during the intermission 

Nice to see Nini and Gina end on a friendly, supportive note. Hopefully that continues next season

Kudos to Olivia and Matt for really selling the high school theatre actors barely keeping it together on stage aspect of the performance. Nini and EJ have so little chemistry that it’s almost hard to remember that they were dating for several months

Mr Darbus’ office set looked great. Nice touch to have Miss Jenn mouthing the lyrics to Wondering off stage

Lynne really sucks. Can’t say I’d miss her if we don’t see her in S2

Will be interesting to see how Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara save their jobs

Realistically I don’t think Nini’s performance was strong enough to earn a spot at YAC; someone like Gina or Seb would have been a much more credible choice imo. Nice touch to have the Dean leave through one door and Ricky the other

Now that the season is done it’s hard to see any traces of whatever more mature direction former showrunner Oliver Goldstick wanted to go in. The whole season seems very coherent and consistent in terms of tone. We did learn from Tim and Olivia that her song All I Want was a re-shoot so maybe it was a replacement for a song or scene that was pushing the envelope more than Tim and Disney wanted

One thing that may or may not be connected is that EJ’s panic attacks from the original character breakdown made no appearance this season and who knows if we’ll ever seen EJ having panic attacks or suffering from anxiety. Disney seemingly had no trouble showing Jonah’s panic attacks on Andi Mack which is doubtless where HSMTMTS took the idea from but it’s also true that Jonah’s anxiety story line was abandoned halfway through S3 and though it’s likely just the result of bad writing it can’t be ruled out that Disney got cold feet over focusing on mental health in both Andi Mack and HSMTMTS

Looking Ahead:

One benefit of this review being so late is that we now know the spring muscial! Beauty and the Beast which seems to suggest that all future musicals will be Disney owned properties

Tim also confirmed that they will still be incorporating songs from HSM 2 and 3 into the show which will certainly help pad out the 16 extra songs they’ll be doing in S2. Having 12 eps will be a big help to the show; 10 eps just wasn’t enough to properly deal with all the characters and plots

HSMTMTS really turned out to be a delight and while I think S2 will be as well there are definitely potential issues ahead that will need to be deftly dealt with. Nini either going away to YAC and then coming back to SLC or just not going to YAC is probably going to be wrapped up in an unsatisfying manner. In all honesty this kind of plot would have worked much better if it had been saved for Nini’s senior year

Whatever plan Ashlyn is cooking up to keep Gina in SLC is also probably going to be poorly done as there’s no reason Gina’s mother would willingly leave her daughter in another state

EJ is either leaving the show after he graduates or they’re going to have to contrive some way to keep him around East High in future seasons

Seb now being a main will be interesting, if nothing else to see what Disney’s limits are. Tim has hinted at their being drama for Seblos in S2 and I hope that it serves to develop them and is not just a means to keep them apart so there can be two gay mains but no gay relationship. As an aside Tim revealed that Joe originally auditioned for EJ which is wild; it’s funny that both Joshua Rush and Joe Serafini auditioned for EJ when neither of them had any realistic chance of being cast

I have no strong feelings on the cast list for Beauty and the Beast though I do think it’s likely that either Kourtney or Gina end up playing Belle as I think having a black girl play Belle is just the type of subversion that would appeal to Tim. Miss Jenn did say that she wanted Kourtney to come speak to her over break and while Gina is a bigger character I’m not sure if Sofia’s singing is quite good enough to carry the lead in the musical while I think Dara’s definitely is 

I’d say it’s very likely EJ ends up either as the beast or as Gaston since he’s in what should be his last semester. And if Gina also gets a big role it would make it easier to play with Portwell in S2. If EJ is the beast I could see Seb getting Gaston in another subversion of expectations. Regardless I think with Seb now being a main and with Joe having one of the strongest voices in the cast that he’ll play an important role

Until next season Wildcats