#lmk if you want to know which issue each image is from!!

[artyandink]

tête-à-tête | cj braxton

Summary: Not everyone at ESU got the gift of maturity. So when you hear a couple of comments about your appearance and weight in a conversation between some girls, you can’t help but think that you need to make yourself worthy of CJ. However, your knight in shining armour is always ready to rescue you from that deep end.

TW: Immature and jealous girls, body sensitivity, body image issues, starving oneself, implied smut, making out, smut (my first smut fic, don’t kill me please)

SMUT TW: Kissing (duh), touching, fingering, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), body worship (I think), oral (f. receiving), thigh riding, riding, CJ is one whipped man

A/N - This is part two to ‘i like me better’ (it could work as a stand-alone but I strongly advise you read the first) and the second one shot of the Day Old Frosties Club (it’s the universe for these two and you’ll know why soon)

A/N 2 - Second entry for the Jensen-A-Thon! And wth, this is the LONGEST THING I’VE WRITTEN??! Lmk if you want a word count!

Song inspo: Lover - Taylor Swift and Golden Hour - JVKE

You groaned, the back of your hand reaching up to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes from the wear and warmth that came from last night.

Mm, last night.

CJ’s lips trailing down your body, open mouthed, sweet yet hot on your needy skin. Eliciting whines from your mouth with each skilled brush of his fingers. His groans in your ear and his breathless, wanting voice telling you how good you were, how beautiful you looked, how perfect you were for him. The way he kissed your nose and gazed at you with those gorgeous green eyes as if you were God’s gift to the Earth in that dimly lit room complete with a view of the New York skyline. The setting sun casting a red spotlight over the both of you to the soundtrack of your soft sighs, his low groans and the headboard banging against the wall at a steady rhythm.

Aka - your personal heaven.

You didn’t know why it took you so long to figure out that the man who was joined to you literally since birth was the love of your life.

You weren’t kidding. Your moms managed to time their pregnancies at the same time, and by some miracle went into labour on the same day and had birth in the same hospital an hour apart.

CJ was older. Regrettably, but it was understandable. He was the more mature of you both.

Anyway, back to the narrative.

You saw him sleeping beside you, the effortlessly handsome man who was in his boxers from your cleaning up last night (practice the horizontal tango correctly, everyone- during, before and after), arm around your waist and holding you snuggly to his side, his face scrunched up and pouty, plump lips parted. Anyone uneducated in the world of CJ Braxton wouldn’t know what was really going on.

You read the textbook back to front. He was awake, and you’d prove it.

You leaned forward, kissing those relaxed lips, and the second you let your fingers card through his floppy hair and find a home there, you felt him hum against your mouth, hand on your waist bringing you closer so he could slide his hand over your panties to grip your knee gently and hook your leg over his hip. Bad breath be damned, you could still taste yourself on his tongue from the previous night and it sent shivers down your spine to know that you were the one that he was with almost every night (often he felt like being on the bottom, which you weren’t opposed to in the slightest), mouthing at your neck, chest, stomach and everywhere else he could get to.

You still couldn’t get used to the idea.

The softly-lit bedroom (which you both now slept in together) was warmed with the sound of your lips moving lazily together, your hands rustling the sheets and the duvet up as you pulled each other impossibly closer and sweet sighs like honey, gripping of thighs and the fluttering of eyelashes. All mixed into a delicious routine cocktail.

You hummed against CJ’s lips, attempting to pull away, but he chased your lips with a small ‘no’ and fought back to quash any rebellion. It was clear how eager he was to reenact the previous night, but you managed to breathe air through your mouth again, your eyes scanning his pouty, grumpy face with an exhilarated, knowing grin. “How did I know, hm?”

“In my defence,” He raised a finger with the most endearing smile, “you look beautiful when you’re sleeping.”

“You think I look beautiful all the time.” You giggled as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and proceeding to try and tame the rat’s nest that was an excuse for hair with only your fingers. A battle hard lost.

CJ, however, rubbed his eye with the back of his wrist, scanning you over from head to toe. Bed head, flushed cheeks from the morning, lips slightly swollen from the wake up call, only wearing a grey sweatshirt and cotton panties. Yep. Stunning. “Yeah. That I do.”

You nodded, humming as you leaned forward, letting your lips linger on his in a chaste kiss which, when you pulled away, had his eyes still closed as he tried to register how in the hell did he score his best friend. Not that you were an object, he just…

… adored you.

He reached out, entwining his pinky finger with yours and bringing them up to his lips, kissing them before he also swung his legs and got out of bed, standing in the glory of the light streaming through of the window in purely his boxers. You took a look at him and smirked, cocking an eyebrow at the heavenly view you got to have in the moment. Your view. The thought was unbelievable, wasn’t it? “Ooh, lá lá.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, and smiled affectionately when he saw you close the blinds to that very window, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good idea.”

“I know.” You giggled, kissing his cheek as you yanked your sweatpants on. The very same ones he had first kissed you in, making out like you had a million times before in one of Uncle Bill’s spare bedrooms.

Damn, that memory was still paradise.

“So, sweet girl, what are you thinking for breakfast?” CJ hummed, drawing you closer and wrapping his arms around you, pressing kisses to your hairline, tracing it while smoothing back the soft strands of your hair. He’d been doing things like these a lot more often now that you two were dating, probably his way of solidifying that you two aren’t just childhood best friends who kiss and hug each other far too much for it to be platonic, but also because having you in his arms and under his lips (every meaning intended) just felt right.

You pouted in mock thought, drawing his eyes momentarily to your lips. “Day old Frosties?” The grin you gave had him chuckling as well as he moved to the mirror so he could run a thin-toothed comb through his hair.

“Day old Frosties.” He repeated slowly, shaking his head slightly as he added a quip, glancing at your form retreating to the bathroom. “Classy.”

The smartass remark had you raising an eyebrow as you put toothpaste on your wet toothbrush and started diligently scrubbing at your teeth. Well, not hard scrubbing. Just the right amount. “I will stand by day old Frosties until the day that I die.”

“I still don’t get what’s so good about them, that’s all I’m saying.”

“They’re like, the perfect cereal if you have no milk.” Your words were jumbled and muffled by the hanging toothbrush in your mouth, but CJ picked up every word. “Like, they’re not too stale, not too crispy fresh cause you picked them up, like, that day. Just one day old. Not two, not three, one.” You bent over to quickly spit the contents of your mouth in the sink. “Perfection.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” CJ rolled his eyes, regretting his choice already, but to see the squeal and giggle of excitement paired with your smile made it worth every bit of damage to his taste buds. “Let me take a hot one, then I’ll be out with you, ok?”

You whipped off your shirt, a cheeky grin plastered on your flushed cheeks and framed by your dimples. You quickly grabbed your towel, stepping back towards the shower. “Not alone, you’re not.”

CJ shrugged, looking after you with a dazed smile and a rising blush, licking his lips to savour your morning taste. “Yeah, I can get behind that.”

After a long shower, which consisted of a soap suds war, giggles, little kisses and your inability to not cuddle all the damn time, both you and CJ made it out and into the kitchen, padding in with your matching fuzzy socks, you clad in one of CJ’s hoodies, and he was wearing a different one as he’d sacrificed his favourite for you. You went to take out the bowls, and CJ your favourite stash of day old cereal that he slid across the island.

He loved this island. He made out with you on it, very soon after you two got together. He even, well, got to his knees. If you know, you know.

“Alright, let’s see the hype on day old Frosties.” You shot him a look due to his sarcastic drawl, but as you poured the bowl of Frosties and passed him it along with the spoon, the first bite actually had his taste buds happy. Not too stale, not too crispy fresh…

Holy moly, you were right.

“Alright, I take everything back.” He shovelled another spoonful into his mouth, practically moaning at the taste as he turned to you with an incredulously impressed expression. “I take it all back- how the hell is this good?”

“See?” You pumped your eyebrows, starting to scoff down your own and eventually making your cheeks puff out like a chipmunk as you chewed. “Day old Frosties. Number one cereal.”

“Damn. Damn.” CJ chuckled, shaking his head. “I might have to join the Day Old Frosties Club. You’re incredible, you know that?”

“You flatter me.” You grinned, words muffled by the onslaught of cereal in your mouth.

CJ leaned over, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Well, I take pride in the ability to make my girlfriend blush.”

“Course you do.” You snorted, setting the coffee machine to make and studying him for a moment with a small smile on your face. Green eyes, floppy hair, pink lips relaxed in a sweet smile that you couldn’t believe was reserved for you.

Six feet, one inch of pure, maddening perfection.

Of course, it could just be you being biased since you’d been best friends with him since you were born and dating for a few months now. It was always so easy, since he knew you to the last inch (literally) and you knew him to the last inch (also very literally). But you couldn’t help but feel that now, when Jen was no longer a problem and neither was his sobriety, smooth sailing was perfect for the both of you.

“What?” He bore a slightly confused an expectant smile, until you leaned forward and kissed him softly. He puckered up, his eyebrows raising and his expression staying like that a few moments after you pulled away, that is until his eyelashes fluttered and his emerald eyes glinted in the light again, shining with his love for you. “And what was that for?”

“Just cause.” You shrugged, tilting your head with that adoring look that never failed to make his whole body do the tingly thing that he so very much loved to feel.

“Just cause needs to happen more.” He muttered, pinching your chin lovingly. “Now, we’ve gotta finish this cereal fast before we’re late for our morning’s lecture, as much as I’m not a big fan of Professor Kelsey and his endless tangents of his dog’s habits. Which has nothing to do with Sigmund Freud’s discovery of psychoanalysis.”

You pouted in frustration, the action cute to CJ as you moped over the thought of hearing more about your lecturer, James Kelsey, and his adventures with his cocker spaniel and how it liked to chew food then throw it up. “Do we have to?”

“I’m no happier about it than you are, but…” He gestured to you with a grin, “humour me, here. S’not like we have to go climb the Empire State Building, and I know that, and I quote-”

“- heights is where I draw a line that is goddamn higher than the Burj Khalifa.” You two said in unison, your hand reaching out to swat CJ’s shoulder as he chuckled, proud of his exact quotation.

“See?” He took the hand that hit him and brushed his lips over every knuckle, tilting his head and letting his thumb rub circles over the back of it. “I know you. And I know you hate Professor Kelsey, so we can just copy what he wrote down on the board, while listening to Radiohead on our earphones. That’s my starting bid.”

“I bid copy what he wrote down on the board, listen to Radiohead on our earphones, and go for a cheese melt and tomato toastie after.” You two had a favourite sandwich place which had the best cheese pulls you’d ever seen. And the best tasting sandwiches, of course. It totally was wasn’t about the way the strings of traumatised milk cling to each side of the bread in cheddary heaven. Totally not.

“Can I throw a trip to Haute Couture Shakes in as well?” CJ grinned, biting his bottom lip as he did so. You were incredibly tempted, since Haute Couture Shakes was a milkshake and smoothie shop that had quickly become a tradition for you and CJ to go to whenever you fancied. You both visited so often that the people working the shifts knew you two by first name terms, lighting up whenever they saw your smiling faces. “I’ve heard they have a Sour Patch Kid themed milkshake that’s so sour, if you finish it all, they give you five free milkshake coupons, throw in their teddy bear mascot plushie.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thought we could both tackle that, save our wallets some pain.” He shrugged, casually putting across a very tempting idea. “Nothing big.”

“You have a deal.” You grinned, and then he mirrored it, leaning forward so his nose bumped against yours, taking a second before it slotted perfectly, like it was meant to.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, his hair tickling your forehead as his thumb and index finger took your chin. “People say that… deals are sealed with a kiss.”

You giggled. “Nobody says that, Cee.”

That made him smirk slightly in embarrassment. “Well, they will. Maybe in two or three years time, in some random TV show on some streaming service. For now, c’mere.” He guided your lips to his, letting the taste of your toothpaste, your cherry chapstick and the Frosties flood his tongue for far too short a time before he pulled back with a small smile. “Going once, going twice, gone.”

You’d told CJ to go in the lecture without you because you needed to go to the bathroom, and when you were in a stall, about to come out, you heard the smacking of lips from putting on gloss and scoffs from who you recognised as Sarah, Louise and Maya from your Psych class. They were the type to be gorgeous but you’d have no idea how they got where they did.

“I don’t know what CJ sees in her.” You heard Sarah sniff as there was the familiar click of a powder foundation tub opening. “He’s CJ, and she’s just… ugh.” There was a hum of agreement from the other girls, and you just knew they were rolling their eyes.

“You’re way better for him, Sarah, girl.” Louise cooed, and you swallowed, doubts threatening to enter, but you valiantly fought them off. You were CJ’s best friend since childhood and now girlfriend, there’s no way- “I swear, she looks like she’s scoffing down fifty pies and pizzas each a day.”

You… what?

Your eyes drifted down to your body, to where you were donning CJ’s hoodie, which was oversized on you. Sure, it could make it seem that you’ve got more meat on your bones than average, but you loved dressing up in his clothes, because you got to have his scent on you all the time. And he loved seeing you in them, because it reminded him that he’d managed to grow a pair and finally let you know how he felt. Just his luck that you felt the same way.

“And the way she clings to his arm like he’s God’s gift to women?” Maya added with a small, undignified snort. “I mean, he is, but you don’t have to sew yourself to him.”

Sarah cackled in agreement. “Seems so desperate, doesn’t she?”

“It’s actually pathetic.”

“I bet he’d leave her the moment he sees that you’re worth a million times more.” Maya purred in the middle of her mascara application. “Like, come on, it has to be charity. He’s cute and handsome, and she’s practically a hermit.”

“Maya!” Sarah chastised, and for a moment you felt hopeful. As if you weren’t being ripped apart even though you weren’t even meant to be there. “You’ve got it wrong. I don’t think she’s worth anything.”

Yeah, who were you kidding?

They strutted out soon after, and you got the go sign to step out, wash your shaky hands and head inside the lecture. CJ’s face brightened when he looked at you, the sparkle in those mossy eyes exorcising all thoughts of you not being good enough for him. It was like he had a special superpower.

“I saved you a seat.” He grinned. There was no one in the row.

“Not that hard to do, Cee.” You giggled, but he pouted cutely, crossing his arms like a grumpy toddler.

“C’mon, do you have to be a downer on the party?” He snickered. “Just give me this one, appreciate the sentiment and then we can apply cold, hard common sense.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” You echoed with a kiss to his hair, which made his cheeks flush.

“Ok, good. Now c’mere.”

You sat down next to him at the back of the lecture theatre, where he offered you the other earphone, and you were hit with the glory of Radiohead coming from the small speaker inside once you’d slotted it in your ear. Your book was already opened, courtesy of the gentleman, the margins scrawled with multiple doodles of yours and blank spaces blessed with Hangman, one page sporting an outline of two hands, one smaller than the other when you and CJ had compared hand sizes. His was bigger. Obviously.

You would’ve still been thinking somewhat of the comments until he pressed a kiss to your hair, drew you in by the waist and plopped your hand in his hair while nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. You being you, there wasn’t any chance of resisting, so you got to hair playing. He yawned, eyelashes fluttering, and it took you back. To the days where, well, you’d pine for your childhood best friend. When all you wanted was for him to get better, and he did. You didn’t know you’d ever find yourself in this position, where you didn’t know really how to feel about what you’d overheard.

You pushed it away for now, unaware of Sarah’s glowering from across the room. Right now, your sweet boy’s head was on your shoulder, and that’s all you’d feel. And you’d savour it.

The class was filled with little giggles, shared joked and kisses and whatever little ways you and CJ could mess with each other while you took notes, to the soundtrack of ‘You and Whose Army?’, ‘Paranoid Android’ and many more. When you got out, CJ stayed behind to ask Professor Kelsey some questions while you waited outside the lecture theatre, where you saw Sarah, Louise and Maya, all giving you a side eye that reeked of rotten eggs, chewing on their gum and making you feel like you were in a frickin’ off brand Disney Channel TV show where you stole the ‘popular girl’s man’ when he wasn’t even her boyfriend in the first place.

Even so, when CJ came out with a happy smile, you stood up on your tiptoes, cupped his cheek and kissed him, going flat-footed when he leaned down to make it more comfortable for you- damn him for being a giraffe, one hand entwining with yours and the other holding your waist over his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in his fist. He’d be happy to continue that little session until the end of time, but you two had an itinerary of some sorts. He pulled back, taking your hand on his cheek and kissing the inside of your wrist with a hum. “You’re gonna get it later, you know that?”

“I do.” You giggled cheekily, forgetting that those idiots were even watching, your eyelashes fluttering as CJ pecked your nose and offered his arm.

“Shall we, pretty girl?” You happily linked your arm with his, your hands meeting and instantly entwining fingers.

“We shall, sweet boy.” Your lips landed on his cheek, just the lightest of kisses, but it made him flush like it was your first and grin goofily, shivering a little at the way his heart was palpitating and his stomach doing an Olympic gold gymnastics routine. Just like it happened, but more intense, when he was twelve and discovering what love was when you were nerding over Jane Austen.

Yeah, you could still do that. Every damn time he looked at your gorgeous face, and he’ll be damned if he stopped feeling it.

You and CJ strolled into Haute Couture Shakes, the red-headed, red-lipped lady at the counter wearing a snowy white and teal apron breaking out into a grin as she happily let the other workers know you two had arrived. “Hey, you two! Been waiting for the moment you show up.” The place was known for having the most unique milkshake and smoothie flavours ever, that you couldn’t find in any other shake shop in New York. Hence the Sour Patch Kids milkshake.

Some examples were the Bubble Frutti, where they’d combined bubblegum with Tutti Frutti; the Cookies and Dirty Cream (you and CJ drank that on wild nights cause it had vodka in it, and it was safe since CJ didn’t get buzzed and neither did you) and Mount Olympus, which had Skittles (apparently the ambrosia of our earth) as a main ingredient and almost every other candy mixed in small quantities and therefore making it the most heavenly, cavity-inducing drink in New York City.

“Hey, Bella.” You giggled as you reached the counter with CJ, his hand slapping yours down, which was carrying your wallet. He took out his, giving you a look which said ‘let me’. “Uh, we’ll try Death by Sour Patch today.”

“You’re gunning for those free shakes too, huh?” She joked, putting it on the bill. “And I’ll put in those chocolate-cinnamon sprinkled donuts you two like, on the house.”

“We wouldn’t want you to jeopardise your job for us, Bels, we can go without some doughnuts.” CJ scoffed lightly, then leaned in, speaking in a low voice. “But if you can add in a bag of flying saucers, we have a deal.”

The comment made Bella laugh, shaking my head as she got that up too. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for your girlfriend. Lookin’ gorgeous, by the way, hon.” She shot you a quick wink and a wiggle of her manicured and teal-painted fingers, and your heart soared at the compliment. You were just dressed in CJ’s hoodie, some knee-highs and sneakers, but Bella had a way of always lifting your spirits. She was always a true girl’s girl.

“Don’t go stealing her from me, I did hard work to get this far.” He joked back as he put his card in the reader, quickly typing in his pin. He kissed your head briefly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Aw, look at you!” Bella giggled, not a hint of malice in her tone as she gestured between the two of you. “I have a true love-dar, and if I’d seen you two lovelies and you hadn’t been together? I’d have done everything in my damn power to make sure that it would happen.” When CJ looked away to scan the surroundings - the teal and white wallpaper with teal fairy lights, matching tables and posters and all sorts of activities to do around the place - Bella mouthed ‘we need to talk’ very obviously at you.

When Bella needed to talk? She needed to talk.

So you turned to CJ, trying not to let the confusion seep into your tone as you spoke. “Could you find a table, Cee? I’ll wait for the shake.”

“Sure, baby.” He pecked your lips before going to find a seat, leaving you and Bella alone. Her expression changed the moment CJ was out of eyeshot and earshot, which had you worried.

She leaned closer, flicking her bouncy red hair out of her eyes as she took a rather irritated breath in. “Ok, so I had to serve these three skanks, like, five minutes before you came in, and I really didn’t want to because they were absolutely tarnishing your beautiful name, girl, and I had half a mind to smack some sense in her. Even if it gets me a chipped nail.”

Then she saw the dropping condition of your mood, and it instantly clocked in her head, but she needed to know for herself. “Honey,” She covered your hand with her own, sporting furrowed, meticulously threaded and arched eyebrows, “has this happened before?”

Bella was smart, incredibly smart (once you got past the intense self-care) and could tell a white lie when she saw it, so you couldn’t lie. After summing up the courage, you got something out in a meek voice. “Once.”

“One time too many.” She glanced to where Sarah, Louise and Maya were sitting with venom in her eyes. “They were saying all kinds of things that aren’t true in the slightest. I don’t know what you heard, but I have heard enough. Baby girl, you are that boy’s everything. I see it in his eyes; he can’t even begin to fathom that you two are in a relationship, he’s that whipped. And you? You’ve got a heart of gold. Never let it stain for those vultures.” She looked over at them, her eyes doing a 180 the moment they locked on the three paired with a gag (that you weren’t sure was real or fake). “See? Nausea. I hate nausea. You are a damn smart Psych student. They’re just boring history.” She pinched your chin with an affectionate smile before passing you the ready shake. “Don’t waste your time on ‘em.”

Bella never failed to boost you up on a pedestal, a wide grin on your face as you took the cold concoction, complete with two straws. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“You will.” She corrected, but she winked anyway. “Attagirl. Now, go get your man.”

You obliged, finding your table with CJ and putting down the drink, which looked innocent enough with clumps of vanilla ice cream and splotches of pink, green, orange and blue around the clear glass.

“Ready?” CJ asked as he scooted his chair closer, poising those pink lips by the straw, holding it in place.

You grinned, getting in the same position. “Born ready.” You both took a sip, and were instantly hit with… vanilla sweetness?

“Not sour at all.” CJ shrugged, gazing at the drink in confusion as he smacked his lips, his cheeks flushed from the coldness of it. You did the same with yours, getting all the vanilla off your teeth and lips with your tongue as you tried to find the sourness of it all. But… nothing.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be-” You almost gagged and doubled over, your eye closing on instinct.

SOUR.

Oh, that’s-that’s stinging your taste buds. It tastes good, but it’s stinging. CJ was having the same reaction, fanning his mouth as if it would do anything, his left eye blinking over and over again. “Sour.” He gasped, keeping his mouth open. Not even air was on your side. “God, that’s strong stuff. Whoo, damn. Oh, I’m gonna die. Right here, at this table.”

“I’m gonna go with you.” You bent so your forehead was touching the cool surface of the table, panting until you braved the first wave. You exchanged a look with CJ, licking your lips, until you both dove for another long sip.

YOLO, right?

After you two got home, you’d been changing while CJ was stashing the coupons, your stretch marks catching your eye in the mirror. You were tempted to turn it around, but CJ would notice immediately. But for now, you were fixated on the image of you in a simple cotton bra, stretch marks like tiger stripes on your skin as your fingers teased at them.

Trying to see if they’d go away.

“Alley-cat, I’ve set the table.” His low voice rumbled through the door, and you instantly opened it, feeling warm at the nickname. He hadn’t called you that in a good year, not since Jen, and it arose in tenth grade, when you beat up a boy for hurting CJ, landed the douche in the sick bay covered in scratches and gotten suspended with a Cheshire grin on your face.

‘A claw-wielding badass’, he’d told you after laughing until your voices were hoarse when he got home. Your mom had taken the mickey out of you, but you were still smiling. Just cause you helped him.

Pulled back to the present, CJ’s eyes scanned your body as he stopped in his tracks with a soft smirk. You in your bra and sweatpants? Was he in heaven? “Ooh, lá lá.”

You took a quick look at yourself then rolled your eyes, his words doing a bit to thaw the icy chill that set over you by examining the stretch marks and pinching to see what extra fat was where. “Shuddup.” Your arms went to fold over your stomach consciously, but CJ clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he approached you with slow, reverent steps.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t hide all that gorgeousness from me.” His hands found yours, peeling your arms off your stomach to take a look. “Mm, we… might have to skip dinner. And I love pizza, so consider yourself lucky.” He reached you, drawing you into his form by your hips as he began pressing hot kisses to the line of your neck, his finger reaching up to trace the pretty arch of your back. “Yeah, we have to.”

Within seconds, you were on flat on the bed, his skilled mouth on yours with an almost bruising force.

Kissing away the thought that skipping a meal was an eerily good idea.

CJ padded into the kitchen for a midnight snack in his fluffy red and blue checkered pyjama pants, and instantly went for the pizza box. When he opened it, he found it exactly how he left it, which was strange. Four slices, gobbled up quick and easy. He’d told you to eat some as well, since doing the dirty can tax you and they’d literally gone straight to dessert (where each other were concerned) so you needed some food in your system.

Maybe you were just hungry. Maybe… he was reading into things.

That is until the next day, and the day after that, he found you leaving food, disguising it as leftovers. You thought CJ didn’t notice.

He did.

He kept track of this kind of stuff, and it was the most outlandish thing you’d done since you both were little kids. Never once had you starved yourself.

Why would you need to? You were perfect. No need for improvement. Yet he’d seen you with sunken cheeks, staring at food like it was behind a glass pane at a zoo. He’d seen you permanently wearing the loosest clothes in your wardrobe. Casting scared glances at those three makeup-obsessed, snarky girls in their Psych lectures. What were their names? Maya, Louise and Sarah-

Sarah.

Of course. She’d approached CJ just before he started dating you, all hair-twirling, lip biting, blonde galore, laughing in an obviously fake, high-pitched noise at everything he said before finally asking him out. He politely declined, not wanting to bruise her ego and said that he was interested in someone else. She figured who that was when he started dating you. Before that she thought he was gay.

He didn’t know what it was with blondes and thinking he was gay.

He knew you were a damn sight better than Sarah. Even if she was your identical twin, he’d take you. She was into expensive manicures, trips to the salon every other night and trying to make ‘fetch’ happen like Gretchen Wieners.

Though he clocked her as more of a Regina. Trying to be sexy and evil at the same time, but at least Regina did it right (he’d agreed with you on that opinion).

He wasn’t into girls who did obnoxious self care and skimpy clothes. He was into the little things. Like how you’d be playing with his hands every movie night, comparing hand sizes and tracing his fingers with the tips of yours. How you’d wear his hoodies every chance you’d got and he’d let you, just to see you swallowed up in it and to know that you felt special. How you knew him like you knew Harry Potter (word for word) and you were so sweet to him he’d get a cavity.

Most of all your habit of hooking your pinky on his. He took it as a promise that he’d always be yours.

But now he was scared you were starving yourself. Time to put his deerstalker cap on.

Metaphorically.

The one stop he needed to find out if Sarah and her cronies were the root of your problems was none other than their vibrant, fashion forward, milkshake-server Bella. She also went to ESU, and even though you’d take her as a shallow person from the outside, she was sweet, outgoing, protective… and hella smart. She was taking a fashion design course, and that was not for the faint hearted.

“If it isn’t my second favourite Braxton.” She cooed as he approached the counter, looking wonderfully out of place with her dangly hoop earrings.

“I’m the only Braxton you know.” He chuckled, but then she clicked her tongue.

“Bill. He’s a charmer. Now, let’s get down to business.” She fixed the shades atop her red hair. “You’re here about our girl, right?”

“I’m worried, Bels.” CJ swallowed thickly. “I keep on finding leftovers. It’s not normal. And she’s less inclined to show me her body, which, I note, is absolutely gorgeous. I reckon I know who it is.”

“The three Satanic bimbos who were in here talking smack about the love of your life?” Bella raised her eyebrow, nodding. “Yep. I know. One of which who looks like an off-brand, fake Prada Regina George.”

“That’s the one.”

“Rachel McAdams did it miles better.” She snorted, shaking her head disapprovingly. “She’s tarnishing my wife’s name.”

“Well, the off brand version of your wife is ruining my sweet girl.” He sighed, biting his lip. He was lost, confused, and Bella always seemed to lend a helping hand. She could offer a hanky, a sympathetic word or a devastating roast when needed and directed correctly, a complimentary milkshake or, most importantly in this situation, advice. “Help me, Bella. You’re fluent in any girl language. This? I’ve never touched this type of thing with her. She’s always been so confident, and perfect, and sweet. So help me, Bels, or I’ll become trigger-happy.”

“Well, just use what the good lord gave you.” Bella winked, and when CJ flushed in embarrassment, about to stammer out a sheepish reply, she tapped his chest with a giggle. “Your heart of gold, silly. What did you think I was talking about? Now go, return your future wife to her former glory.”

CJ’s face contorted in bewilderment, though the corner of his lip twitched. Bella noticed. “Future- I’m not even gonna argue. Thanks, Bella.”

“Better repay me somehow, young man!” She called as he walked out.

“We’re the same age!”

CJ came home with a reeling mind, and he stopped when he saw you staring into the snack cupboard with a puppy-dog expression… until he came in. Then he raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the cupboard. Just one last hope that you weren’t too badly hurt by those girls. “Don’t stop on my account. I got those for you, baby.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You shook your head, and it confirmed his suspicions. “Just… looking.” His heart broke, and he instantly led you inside your bedroom, his hands in yours and coaxing you to sit, which you did. Not fighting him, knowing the game was up.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let anger well up in him because of what Sarah had said. Out of pure jealousy, all because she couldn’t have him. He felt like the root cause, and he had to fix it. “C’mere, pretty girl.” He drew you onto his lap, resting his forehead on yours, holding you tightly to him. Thumbs rubbing circles into your hip bone, which he felt was starting to poke out. No, no, no, no, no. Not his darling. “Can you tell me why? Please?”

Your bottom lip quivered, but you swallowed the shivers down and got out a choked sentence in a meek voice. You felt like a stranded cat in need of comfort. “Just wanted to be good for you.”

“Shh, no, baby.” He murmured, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. “You’re perfect for me, y’hear? You.” A small peck. “Are.” Another. “Incredible.” One lingering press of his lips to yours. “You’re not eating. I can’t have that. It’s hurting you, and that’s unacceptable to me, ok? I love everything on you just the way it is.” He felt you open your mouth to argue, but he silenced you with a finger on your lips. “We can talk about this when you feel comfortable. However long it takes. But can I just… show you how much I adore you, sweet girl? Let me show you, please.”

His thumb tracing your cheekbone had you leaning into his hand and nodding, so he let out the breath he was painfully somehow holding in the wait for you to agree, mentally preparing himself. He didn’t want this to be anything less than about you. His lips met yours, soft, slow and sensual, the way he was holding you almost reverent. You’d been partaking in gentle love with CJ since you could remember, but this time was different. It had an intensity to it you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t rough, but was fiery. It burned you and soothed you at the same time. A delicious burn but an addicting cool that only left you whining into his mouth.

With that victory notched on his belt, he swiped his tongue on your lower lip, tasting your strawberry chapstick before veering off course to firmly press kisses to your jaw, making his way to a spot behind your ear that had your jaw going slack, his hair tickling it as he sucked gently, massaging your scalp with his fingers. Those lips you loved so much nipped over the curve of your neck, his hand coaxing - not forcing - your head to give him more access until you both found that he no longer needed to give you guidance, you tilting your head on your own to encourage him.

“That’s it, sweet girl.” He murmured, gently rubbing his hand over your chest, down to your stomach and feeling the softness over your hoodie. Then he caressed your thighs, breathing in the mixed scent of you and him which had his head spinning and lips part in a silent gasp, hooked without the need of the line and sinker every time. Effortlessly. That’s how you drew him in.

So. Damn. Effortlessly.

“Cee…” Was all you could get out as his fingers played with the hem of the hoodie, your thighs rubbing together on his lap, his other hand smoothing over those goddamned knee highs, gripping the underside of your knee with a hum.

You couldn’t think. Not even if you wanted to. Especially not with CJ’s hands tracing you like a Greek sculptor would his statue, fingers running over every crevice, imperfection and making them perfect. Except this time, he wasn’t changing a thing about your body, just your view of it. Making it his view.

“As much as I love you wearing my clothes, pretty girl, I think we both want them off.” His lips ghosted over your jugular, making you shiver and nod frantically, at a loss for words because of CJ frickin’ Braxton. Your affirmation prompted him to slide both firm hands under the hoodie, feeling up your body in one smooth motion. The fabric bunched on his forearms, but it served as an effective removal as you lifted your arms, the softness leaving your body - an unfamiliar feeling as it was like a second skin - but replaced with the warm and electrifying feeling of his lips burning a trail from your collarbone to between your chest, quickly undoing the clasp of your cotton bra. Nothing special, just plain.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured in spite of that, nipping at the sensitive skin before rolling one nipple between his fingers, mouth closing around the other. Sucking, laving it with attention, distracting you from noting the exact moment you were manoeuvred, his back against the headboard and you straddling his thigh as needy moans, whines, whimpers - the whole trifecta - spilled from your mouth amid desperate cries of his name.

More like his nickname, but now wasn’t the time to get into specifics.

You were so lost, lost in how he’d switch his focus from one to another, reducing you to putty in his hands, that you were given a hard snap back into reality and then back into cloud nine when he gripped your hips, rocking you against the fabric of his jeans. Friction on your clothed clit. Your mouth falling open. Your eyelashes fluttering as your hands desperately gripped his shoulders, the material of your panties getting more soaked by the second.

The sunset of New York washing over you both. Setting the scene in the oh-so-familiar spotlight that was oh-so more… dizzying. “Feels s’good, Cee.” You breathed, pressing thank-you kisses to his neck, but he shook his head, pulling you back up gently as he kept rocking you, over and over, increasing the delicious pressure each and every time. Ensuring that you were a mess. Ensuring that your pussy throbbed for him.

“S’all for you, baby.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Take what you want, m’all yours. That’s a beautiful girl. That’s my pretty girl.” He took a moment to huff out a breath. His jeans were tight as hell right now, but this was your moment, and he’d fight like hell to keep it that way.

Damn Sarah to hell. That was an un-sexy thought. Back to the gorgeous girl above him.

He gently rolled the two of you over so he was on top, his hand reaching down to tug down your panties at a slow pace, kissing down the length of your legs until his eyes locked on your glistening cunt. The sight had a groan tumbling from deep in his chest, his directory changing as he rid himself of his jacket, shirt, belt and jeans, kicking off his socks as he inched forward. Next thing you knew, your legs were on his shoulders, his mouth sucking at your clit and two of his fingers easing inside you, the one grounding force his hand rubbing your thigh soothingly, as an assurance that you were doing so well for him.

“So gorgeous.” He hummed, sending vibrations through you that had you throwing your head back against the pillows, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets like a lifeline. You were half scared that you’d tear right through them, he was that good at working you, playing you like a damn fiddle.

His fingers crooked just right, hitting your g-spot like he had an in-built homing device to it, continuing to in a ‘come here’ motion, beckoning your climax while your head spun with the amount of sensations hitting you at once. His mouth sucking again and again at your clit until he dipped down to lap at your soaked pussy before returning his attention to where it was before. Irregular intervals, just to keep your toes curling, breath hitching and eyes rolling back.

And with one more stroke, one more flick, he had you tipping over the edge, coming on his fingers, and he left your clit to drink it all up as you shook, cried out his name, writhed above him and made him feel that much more powerful. He made sure none of your sweetness went to waste, so he could feel it all on his tongue while he scissored you open, slow movements so he wouldn’t overwhelm you. His other hand gently setting down your legs and rubbing a soothing circle on your stomach before he looked up at you, mouth and chin glistening before he licked his lips, collecting the mess on his chin with his thumb and sucking it all off.

The sight almost had you coming again.

He moved back up your body, leaving soft presses of his mouth - his stamp of approval - wherever he went until he reached your mouth, withdrawing his fingers from your soaked pussy and licking them clean, keeping eye contact before he cupped your cheek with his hand and firmly kissed you, grinding his clothed need against you slowly. Making sure you felt it.

“Only you.” He murmured, kissing your nose before rolling you so you were on top of him, straddling him, and he was propping himself against the headboard again. “Only you do this to me, sweet girl. Nobody else. Just you.” Next thing you knew, he was once again taking your breath away by getting his boxers off, ripping a silver packet open with his teeth. Rolling the condom on and taking your hips, lowering you down onto his waiting cock.

Groaning as he felt you, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder, taking in your whines of his name from those pretty lips and letting them send him to cloud ten as he moaned out yours. Your hips already rocking as you fit him like a glove, your bodies slotting together perfectly as your face remained close to his. Him watching every minuscule twitch of those gorgeous features, with his flushed cheeks, hazy emerald eyes and swollen, reddened, parted lips.

“So good, sweet boy.” You moaned out as your lips connected with his, lifting and lowering yourself back down so you could take him deep. A twitch from his hips jolting you slightly and having your noses knock together, which elicited matching giggles from both of you. “Easy there, cowboy.”

“Easier said than done when the girl of my wildest dreams is riding me, lookin’ all pretty. Taking me so goddamn well.” CJ’s voice came out strained, his core tight as he desperately tried to hold on for you, when you were squeezing him in a way which had his eyes rolling back and him wondering whether he was in heaven. He let you set the pace, loosely holding your hips and watching for any sign of fatigue as you took what you needed. What you deserved. All amid hot, slow kisses, gentle nips at exposed skin and whispered, shaky words of love and affection.

Your pinky entwining with his.

Your stuttering hips were your sign that you needed him to take over, so he rolled you over onto your back, keeping his strokes long and deep so you could feel every inch of him. Your hand pinned above your head, but it was being held by his as he nipped your earlobe, kissed down your jaw and reached your neck, brushing his lips feather-light in a way that had your mouth falling open.

“Cee, baby, o-oh, don’t stop,” You begged, the free hand of yours alternating between threading in his hair and resting between his shoulder blades. Your nails dug into his back, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, knowing it was an outlet along with the cries and pleas spilling from your lips like a prayer to go faster and don’t stop. He picked up his pace, going slightly faster and brushing up against your g-spot, your toes curling, eyes rolling and legs locking around his waist.

The way CJ was looking at you topped it off. With adoration in his eyes, paired with his praises that he whispered against your skin and your lips, kissing them sweetly every now and then. The hand that wasn’t holding yours was cradling your face. “Taking me so well, sweet girl.” He’d murmur before kissing your nose. “You look so gorgeous right now. So damn gorgeous.” Another kiss on the nose, and then a drawn-out thrust. Your hand would grip his tighter, you’d cry out his name and you’d be that much closer to tipping over the edge.

He got you there faster, not switching pace but thrusting harder as he then reached between the two of you, stroking your clit in time with his movements, keeping an eye on you in case you felt any discomfort.

None at all. You were in heaven. Sparks instantly shot through your body and had your legs not been around CJ’s waist, you’d be bucking your hips. Your whines and moans got that much louder, and CJ was almost shaking in the attempt to hold out and let you come first. His teeth gritted as he thrust into you, moaning low in his throat as your walls squeezed and fluttered around him, a sign you were close.

The headboard acted as a steady pulse, the thumb on your clit insistent and you fought to keep your eyes from rolling back but failing miserably. You felt like you were on fire, getting hotter and hotter, and like you were the brightest star in the sky with how CJ was looking at you with the awe that one would have when they visit one of the wonders of the world. To CJ, you were the eighth. The irony that stars were beginning to appear in front of your eyes. “Come for me, sweet girl.” CJ choked out, almost begging as he gasped shakily, his thrusts growing more erratic and sloppy. Still absolutely amazing, though. Just to make that clear on your part. “Please? N-Need to feel you, baby. Doing so well, pretty girl, please, just c-come for me.”

Your vision almost went black as you came hard, your head falling back, which gave CJ the opportunity to press his lips to the curve of your neck, soft and barely there as he thrust once, twice before he spilled into the condom, hips stuttering and a gasp being torn from his throat as he choked out your name over and over like a prayer.

You looked down to see him, and you instantly felt a rising warmth in your heart upon seeing CJ like this, just for you. Eyes screwed shut, hair messed up, lips parted and letting out moans just for you. You’d forgotten anything was even said about you by the time you both came down from your highs, marvelling at how his lean shoulders heaved from the exertion.

He looked up at you with a loving smile, kissing your forehead before pulling out of you, disposing of the condom before immediately going back to you and smoothing your hair back with kisses all over your face. “Incredible.” Was all he could murmur, in the aftershocks of the aftershocks. “You were absolutely incredible, pretty girl.”

“So were you. You had me at a loss for words the entire time.” You giggled, giving him a sweet kiss back. “Sweet boy. Pretty boy.”

“Shuddup.” He grinned, nuzzling your nose with a low chuckle. “Let’s get in the shower, hm? And I’ll change the sheets when we get back. No crusty fluids.” Then he paused, both of you snickering. “That was an un-sexy thing to say. Sorry, I think I just ruined the mood.”

“Nah.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “You made it.”

Three days later, you were meeting CJ after a meeting with your lecturer on your latest Psych essay on how well you’d done, and CJ was shuffling in his bag for some notes that he had to give Sarah, who was sauntering over as we speak.

“Oh, CJ!” She trilled, pouting unnecessarily. Probably to draw attention to those obnoxiously glossy lips. “Got those notes for me? I hate to miss lectures.” Everyone knew she skipped it to buy new makeup, but he played along, wordlessly took out the notes and handed it over. “Oh, thanks so much, handsome. I, uh, don’t see your girlfriend anywhere.” She made a show of looking around. “Maybe we could-”

“Sarah, I’ll stop you right there.” He held up a finger. “I’m not gonna go on a date with you, definitely not when you’ve been smack talking about my girlfriend for the past three weeks.” Sarah looked thunderstruck. Good. “And I’m even less inclined to when I’ve got a woman in my corner who’s gorgeous, kind, sweet, smart, all of the great adjectives in the dictionary. I’m not even gonna stand here and watch you feel sorry for yourself.”

“But… baby-”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not interested.” He shot Sarah a venomous look, which changed into a lovesick stare when he saw you emerging from your meeting with a wide grin. He left Sarah looking like a lost puppy to reach you, kissing you briefly as a hello. “Hey, you.” He murmured, letting his lips have a mind of their own and trail down your neck.

You swatted his chest with a giggle, wearing his hoodie again. This time looking healthy and happy, after gorging on whatever snacks you wanted with no mental repercussions. Job well done, you both agreed. CJ hated seeing you as anything less than the bubbly girl he’d known since before he could remember. “Cee! We’re in public!”

“So?” He lifted you and spun you around before setting you down. “Got the love of my life in my arms and esteemed chairwoman of the Day Old Frosties Club and I can’t exhibit PDA? That’s a felony.”

“Arrest me.”

“I’ve always thought you’d pull off an orange jumpsuit.” Both of you burst into giggles, but then CJ took your hand and kissed the back of it, then the inside of your wrist. The way you blushed furiously then struggled to get out a response without stuttering made the last puzzle piece fit into place. You were his calling. You were the one. “At least let us splurge our coupons at Haute Couture later.”

You stood on your tiptoes, pecking CJ’s lips quickly, which had him flustered this time. “I’d love to.”

You and CJ ordered your drink (The CaraStrawberry Couple) at Haute Couture Shakes, Bella being the cheery server once again and doting over you both. It was your turn to go find a table, and CJ slipped something out of his jacket. A small rectangle card. “Here’s your repayment, Bels.”

Bella took the card suspiciously, but her face lit up when she read it. “Ten free manicures and polishes at my favourite nail salon? Oh, hon, you’re an absolute angel!”

“Turns out I did have to use what the good Lord gave me.” He quoted, and Bela punched his shoulder lightly with a chuckle.

“You sly dog.” Then she quirked an eyebrow. “This is a lil’ extra, so I’m guessing that there’s something else that you want from me.”

CJ chuckled, nodding. “That’s right. It’s a little much, but I have no idea how this works and my mom would go overboard. Plus, your sense of fashion is… incredible.”

Bella giggled again. “You flatter me. Now c’mon, tell me. Even if I have an idea.”

CJ bit his lip, then leaned forward, speaking in a low voice. “Ring shopping.” He had to cover Bella’s mouth to stifle the squeal and borderline scream that came out of her, her blue eyes lighting up in excitement. CJ cautiously took his hand off, and she still bore the same dumbstruck, euphoric expression.

“I knew it!”

I’d appreciate feedback!

TAGLIST: @k-slla @deans-daydream @hobby27

[hyuckmov]

haechan — fallingforyou

bestfriend!haechan x reader, (feat. best friend mark, mentions of yeri) 5k, unrequited love angst for the most part, a bit of fluff, a happy ending this time, christmas and new years eve season vibes a/n: this is loosely based on 'fallingforyou' by the 1975 because...'i don't wanna be your friend/i wanna kiss your neck' but also hopefully its a little more than that...this goes out to all of you who've been in love with your best friend :) i'm scared there's more mark than haechan in this LOL also for someone who doesn't write long prose 5k is a little amazing for me </3 lmk if you like it thru my asks!

1 dec

you were only having this conversation with mark because haechan couldn’t make it for movie night. 

movie nights without haechan were a quiet affair. with no one clamoring over which movie to put on and insisting on playing a series of games to decide, with no arguments over snacks or blankets or which lights to turn off, you and mark sat down and easily picked a movie from the watch-list. things were peaceful. until mark decided to bring up a topic you had sincerely hoped he wouldn’t. 

“hey, i have to ask…” he sat up from where he was slumped on the couch. not paying him much attention, you nodded so he knew you were listening. “have you really never had feelings for haechan?” 

turning over to look at him, you groaned. “mark we’ve been through this…” 

he slid off the couch and joined you on the floor, pressing pause on the movie so there was silence instead. “give me your honest answer.” 

you truly, genuinely, hated whenever he brought this up. you hated whenever anyone would ask whether you and haechan were dating, or if he had a crush on you, or any other variation of how are you only friends? truthfully, you hate it because whenever someone asks, you imagine it for a split second: it puts feelings and images in your head that are difficult to forget, and before you know it you can’t act normal around your best friend for about the next two weeks. 

but then you embarrass yourself: you linger too long on his hands over the popcorn, you stare a little too much when he’s across the table during dinner, and haechan notices. he laughs in your face, and that makes you drop any other feelings you have settling in your stomach. business as usual. lather rinse repeat. 

mark is still looking at you, his wide eyes telling you he really wants to talk it out this time. mark is a big believer in having all your feelings out, and in ‘open communication’. you’re surprised that it’s been 4 months since he brought up the issue. 

“mark, just tell me what you want to say.” 

“okay.” he pauses, and you can see him lay out his line of reasoning in his head. “what would you do if haechan told you he had a big project due and he was stuck at the library working on it?” 

“i would go over there and help him.” you say, without thinking much about it. “i did that, actually. literally last week.” 

“okay, cool, you’re a good friend.” mark takes a breath, “what would you do if haechan told you, that right now at this very moment, he really wanted to eat ramen.” 

you raised your eyebrows because that wasn’t out of character for haechan at all. “go over there with ramen in a pot.” 

mark nods, but he’s just warming up. “it’s midnight right now, in case you were wondering. it’s also raining outside, but i’ll move on. how many times have you helped haechan just over this past week?” 

you’re beginning to catch on to what he’s implying. “we’re friends. that’s what good, loyal, friends do. we help each other out!” 

“i’m not finished.” 

“well, hurry up with your point and less with the hypotheticals.” you turn back to the tv, and you are about to press play on the movie when mark asks- 

“do you say i love you to each other?” 

your reply of ‘yes” sticks in your throat. yes you do. frequently. but its a throwaway comment, its how you end phonecalls, its what you say before you step out of the door. neither of you mean it. do you? “we don’t mean it.” you settle on your answer. 

“he might not mean it.” mark sighs. “think about it y/n. you’ve blown off dates with people who were interested in you just because haechan wanted to hang out. you’re with him almost every second of every day. you would drop everything just to do something he asked. you don’t do that for me, that’s for certain.” you open your mouth to protest, and he quickly adds “not that i mind. i know we’re good friends. i’m just saying.” 

“what are you saying?” 

mark takes a deep breath. “you treat haechan like your boyfriend.” 

the words settle in your brain for a second. you want to say you don’t, but you think a little deeper. if you and haechan were in a relationship, what would you do differently? where would things change? we would be kissing you think. then, fuck. why am i thinking about kissing haechan? then, if this is love, then yes i’m in love with him.

but mark hasn’t finished his thought. “you think of haechan as your boyfriend, you act like you’re his girlfriend, and i’m only bringing this up today because…” 

“he doesn’t.” your eyes meet mark’s, and in that second, the both of you understand each other far better than can be put into words. 

10 dec

you really hate that mark brought it up. and this time, it feels a bit different than before, because mark has really made some points. do you act like you’re his girlfriend? should you stop? should you scale back? it would be horrible if you just wasted all this apparent girlfriend-isms on your best friend. 

“is something wrong today?” you’re having your weekly lunches with haechan at the cafe near the library, and he’s sitting across from you, and everything is normal: you’re at your regular seat, with your regular choice of lunch in front of you, and haechan is telling you about some way mark messed up the microwave last night. but also everything isn’t normal, because you’re back in the depths of pondering your relationship with haechan, and suddenly you’re wondering if this could be a date in some other universe. 

“nothing’s wrong.” you poke at your food. “so are you getting a new microwave?” 

“y/n i’m serious. did something happen? you’re being really…” he squints his eyes as he examines you closely, and somehow this makes your cheeks feel warm. you can’t look at him in the eyes. “you’re just…you keep not looking at me. why aren’t you looking at me? do you know something?” 

“know what?” suddenly, you’re attentive: know something? your mind is going wild with all the possibilities, because it’s beginning to sound like…

does he like you and he’s afraid you found out? 

“nothing” he says, far too quickly, and it makes your heart beat a little faster. 

“what are you keeping from me?” now you’re on the offensive, and you watch haechan duck his head to avoid your gaze. 

“i’ll tell you when i’m ready”, he mumbles and checks his phone for the time. “fuck. i have to go for class now.” 

“okay!” you’re a little breathless from all the thinking. an awkward kind of silence fills the space as he puts things into his bag, determinedly not looking in your direction. impulsively, you add, “you can tell me anything, you know that right?” 

“i know that. i guess i’m just…” he shoulders one of the straps on his backpack, and pauses to look at you. “i’m just scared of what might happen.” 

you’re hoping against hope. maybe this time things will be different. “i’ll wait. things will be okay, i’m sure of it.” 

“okay.” he smiles and stands up to go. and before you can lose your nerve, you say, as quickly and hopefully easily as you can: 

“loveyoubye!” 

he turns and his face breaks out into a wide smile. “bye y/n. love you. see you later.” 

maybe you do act like he’s yours. but maybe mark was wrong, because sometimes you think he acts like you’re his too. 

17 dec

it’s been a week, and whatever it was, you’re wondering if that moment in a cafe was completely hallucinated. 

haechan doesn’t bring up whatever he was keeping from you. you don’t want to push him, because good things take time, don’t they? you ask mark if he has any idea what it’s about, but apart from telling you not to get your hopes up, he doesn’t have a clue either. you think you could maybe go on living like this: delusional over the fact that your best friend might like you. ready at any moment to return the feelings but ready at any moment to also pretend like nothing ever happened. 

except maybe you couldn’t, because this whole situation has made the i love yous ever more painful. 

after the next movie night, when you’re about to head to your own flat, you stand around, putting on your shoes and taking them off again while haechan busies himself in his kitchen. mark had already left, leaving you one last skeptical look before he headed out. you want to tell haechan you love him, just to hear him say it back — but every time gets a bit harder because it means something a little realer. “haechan!” 

“yeah?” he walks out, still holding a plate. “get home safe y/n. text me when you get back.” 

“okay, goodnight.” you walk out of the door, and as casually as you can: “love you.” 

“mmhm. love you too.” haechan’s already gone when you turn back. 

as the days turn colder, december seeping into christmas in all its stories of love in the winter and warm fireplaces, it becomes a mini game for you: how many times could you get haechan to say he loved you, just to hear it? ending each phone call with love yous, that you just manage not to stumble over. facetiming at night, and waiting to say it but not getting a chance to as he falls asleep. in the library before haechan’s class, you take too long deciding how you should say it: i love you, or just love you! bye, love you! or love you bye! and haechan has already left, with a wave. 

you say it to his face once: as he’s adjusting the hood on your sweater for you before you leave the restaurant, and his face is so close to yours that you can count his eyelashes. and its so endearing, how his eyes crinkle into a smile, his hands brushing the hair out of your eyes, as he says it back. 

each time he does say it, you let it warm you from the inside out. you let yourself imagine that he means it, and it’s enough for you, just for now. 

20 dec

so your guard is truly down when he shows up to dinner at your apartment. you made kimchi jjigae, haechan’s favorite, and mark had come over too. the plates were cleared, but all of you lingered around the dining table for a while, talking quietly about little things, enjoying the warmth of the living room even as it gets colder and colder outside. 

haechan is a little tipsy from the soju mark brought over. his cheeks are dusted with red, and he’s becoming increasingly touchy: his hands playing with your fingers and his head gently tilted to rest against yours. you like it a little too much, and you could get used to it. you wonder if he’ll tell you he loves you today. 

“mark. y/n.” he swallows. “i asked yeri out today.” 

and just like that, the delusion from the past month, the confidence you’ve gained from knowing your feelings and imagining that maybe he returned them, all your i love yous and all of his, begin to feel like a cruel joke. 

mark is looking at you. carefully, he says, “that’s great haechan. i didn’t know you liked her.” 

haechan smiles: you can feel it against your shoulder. “me neither.” still playing with your fingers, “i think one day, i was sitting next to her in class, and i realised.” 

you think you’ve stopped breathing. normally, your silence would have been suspicious, and he should have noticed: should have turned to you, squinting, trying to figure out your opinion. but clearly you’re the last thing on his mind. “that’s so sweet. what did she say?” you try to sound excited, and you push him off of you like you can’t wait to hear the rest of the story, but really you just want to be away. 

“she said yes.” haechan laughs a little at that, and he’s so happy. “we’re going to the christmas party together. and the new years eve party.” 

mark laughs too, but his eyes never leave your face. “will you she be your new year’s kiss?” 

haechan’s eyes widen. “dude i didn’t even think about that. sure.” he leans back, and looks up at the ceiling and you know he’s thinking about her. you’re not thinking of anything.

later, as you’re both cleaning up the kitchen, haechan stops you gently with a hand on your wrist. he seems to have sobered a little, because the cloudy look in his eyes are gone. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i was really scared i would make a big deal out of it if i told you and mark, only to get rejected.” he smiles a little. 

you nod a little, not sure how to respond. but then he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, and he takes your hands in his. “are you mad at me? i’m really sorry. i promise i’ll never keep anything from you again. i love you, and y-you’re my best friend.” 

and instantly, you want to hold on to him so badly that you don’t want to do anything that might drive him away. 

“i’m not mad at you.” and because you’re just a little selfish, you pull him in for a hug. just one last one, before everything changes. “i’m really really happy for you haechan.” and just because you’re such a good friend, the one who puts him before you always, you add as you pull away: “we should probably stop saying i love you. yeri might get the wrong idea.” 

he laughs a little. “you’re right. thanks y/n.” 

x

it’s a mark of how good a friend mark is that he walks haechan to the crosswalk before saying he left something at your place, and doubles back. 

when you swing open the door, the first thing he says is “i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t know anything. it just happened.” and it’s that which makes it real, and makes you start to cry. he spends the rest of the night patting at your hair as you mess up his hoodie with your tears, his “i knows” punctuating your incoherent rants about how it should be you. because it should be you, but also there’s no reason for it to be, at all. and there’s nothing you can do. 

25 dec

mark solemnly promises he will watch over you for the whole christmas party. “just in case you get drunk and try to ruin yourself, or them.” he says. you tell him you don’t need someone watching you, and tell him to enjoy his christmas night, but he waves you off and slings an arm around your shoulder, for which you are grateful. it’s mostly been you and him this past week, haechan often busy with a date or another activity, and you’re a little grateful for that because seeing him in the flesh makes it hurt far more than all the hypothesizing you do in your head. 

it’s only 2 hours into the party, more people trickling in by the hour, and already he’s started a game with you where you point out possible people for you to go out with. both he and you know you would never make a move, as evidenced from what happened between you and the person we are pretending is not holding hands with his maybe girlfriend right now. but it’s fun to hypothesise. 

“he looks nice.” mark points at a boy you recognise as jaemin, who’s inspecting the back of your television.

“maybe.” you tilt your head, thinking about it. “he has a nice smile. oh and he helped me with calculus the other day — that was really nice of him.” 

“so you know him!” mark beams at you. “you should ask him what he’s doing with your tv.” 

“ask who what?” and the little bubble you’ve been sitting with mark in for the night is suddenly gone, because haechan has wandered over to the two of you, yeri following behind and smiling widely. he’s wearing a red striped sweater, the one that you picked out for him, and it looks so good that you curse a little internally.

“y/n was thinking of asking jaemin out.” mark says, swiftly. his arm tightens around your shoulder, encouraging you to stay calm. 

haechan looks taken aback. “you’ve never mentioned jaemin to me.” 

“i don’t have to tell you everything. you certainly don’t.” it’s a little mean, and not at all how you would speak with him usually but the way his fingers are interlaced with yeri’s is making you feel jumpy and annoyed. mark is giving you wide eyes, but he tries to pass it off with a laugh. 

“sorry. she’s just mean because she’s drunk.” you haven’t had a sip of alcohol the entire night, but you play along, and try to avoid haechan’s eyes. 

“sorry.” you mumble. haechan is still looking at you suspiciously, but yeri presses herself into his side and his expression clears. 

“yeri wanted to say thank you for hosting the party.” he smiles at her, like there’s something the two of them share. you think you’re going to be sick, but mark has been answering for you far too much. 

“thank you for coming. hope you had fun!” you smile as graciously as you can, but you tug on mark’s jacket with your other hand. “sorry, excuse us, we want to go say hi to jaemin for a bit.” 

mark helps you hop off the kitchen counter, steadying you with an arm as you look around the room for ‘jaemin’. the entire time, haechan watches, not sure why he can’t stop noticing how the two of you are acting, and how this is the first time he’s really seen the two of you so close. he wonders when you’ve ever been this comfortable linking arms with mark, or putting your head on his shoulder, and why hadn’t he noticed before? 

“wait-” he blurts out. you look at him questioningly. “be careful.” 

irritated at him, for making you talk to him and look at him like this, you respond “what?” a little too aggressively. you really can’t control it today. 

“with jaemin.” if you were still delusional, which you are trying very hard not to be, you would almost say it was as if he was making up what to say as he was saying it. “i heard he’s really rude. and not nice to date. at all.” 

you raise your eyebrows, because you know that anyone who’s met jaemin would never say that about him. “sure haechan. merry christmas.” 

and just like that, you leave him and yeri in the kitchen, mark guiding you through the crowd easily. jaemin is nowhere to be seen, so the both of you go to your bedroom, where you spend the rest of the night, mark valiantly trying to cheer you up by playing christmas songs for you on the guitar. 

and if haechan slipped away from the party to stand outside your bedroom, listening to you laughing and requesting mark do the high note from all i want for christmas is you again, you were none the wiser. 

but all you did know, was that when you and mark came out of the bedroom to kick everyone out of your apartment, haechan and yeri were kissing under the mistletoe, his hands wrapped around her waist, and her hands cupping his cheeks. you cheer loudly along with everyone else, and give him an aggressive thumbs up when he looks over at you and mark. you’re beginning to think you want to spend new years eve alone. 

31 dec

you were only having this conversation with haechan because the both of you were stuck, in your car, on the way to a new years eve party you swore you didn’t want to go to, because mark couldn’t make it. 

over the phone, he was really sorry. “i had no idea, but i have a family dinner tonight that i can’t get out of it. i’m really sorry y/n. don’t go to the party if you don’t want to.” 

“of course i don’t want to.” spending new year’s eve alone was bad, but it would be worse if you had to watch yeri and haechan kiss to seal their love forevermore as the clock struck midnight. “i’ll watch a good movie, and go to sleep. i might not even stay up for it. it’s just another night.” 

but that didn’t happen. haechan showed up at your door, breathless and panicked. his car broke down, and he had to go to the new years eve party to meet yeri, so could he please please please borrow your car? and could you please please please come with him, because he didn’t want to drive over alone? as you handed him your keys, seated in the passenger’s seat, in last year’s new year’s eve dress and mark’s huge hoodie over it, the words “you would drop everything just to do something he asked” rang in your head. 

would you go to a new years eve party if he asked, one that you weren’t planning on going to, in the middle of the night, even if you knew it would likely bring you immense pain? yes apparently, you would. apparently, you still treated him like your boyfriend when he was about to be someone else’s. 

haechan keeps looking over at you. how do you look so pretty, in the middle of the night, just getting ready for bed? and why are you wearing mark’s hoodie? “i’m really sorry for making you go out like this.” 

you wave him off. “it’s fine.” softer, “you know i’d do anything for you.” 

cars moved slowly around you, and their tail lights shone in a bright red lane all the way down busy highway. very soon, the car was barely moving. the two of you sitting there, stuck, as the clock on the dashboard blinked 11:40. running his hands on the top of the steering wheel, haechan spoke up first. “when did you get so close to mark?” 

“huh?” you’re genuinely confused. “why would you say that.” 

“you’ve just been a lot closer with him recently.” 

“we’ve always been friends.” you don’t want to say anything too cutting, anything that would make the silence in the car too heavy, but there is no other way to put it. “you’ve been busy.” with yeri hangs unspoken in the air — but its true. and you don’t even blame them. if haechan was your boyfriend, you would want to spend every second of the christmas season with him. “mark has just…been there.” 

haechan doesn’t reply to that. the car inches slowly forward. the song that plays from your phone is slow and deep, and when you look at the lights on his face, his eyes unfocused on the road you realise you just want to reach across the seat and wrap your arms around him. 

you think of skipping the song or switching to a christmas radio station, but you can’t bring yourself to ruin it. 

“y/n i.” haechan finally takes a deep breath. “i don’t know if its selfish of me, but i just feel like i’ve been losing you and i don’t know how to be back in your life in the way that we were.” 

the way we were. “haechan, i don’t think the way we were…was very good for us.” 

“what do you mean?” haechan turns, and looks at you. halfheartedly, you point to the road ahead, but the cars aren’t moving, and his eyes are focused on you. 

“have you ever really thought about what we were to each other?” you blame the lights. you blame the song. and you blame the fact that the clock reads 11:49, and you just want to be honest, maybe just for once in this cursed holiday season. “haechan, my life revolved around you. you were everything to me. and all i needed at the end of the day was just, you smiling at me, or you telling me you…” you can’t finish the sentence. you won’t. 

his heart snags on the were. the was. “i didn’t realize.” 

“well it did. and now you’re unhappy because i’m not just waiting for you to reply to my messages, or pick up my calls, because i’m spending time with mark now.” you are picking the entirely wrong fight. the whole argument is wrong, and you know it, but you look stubbornly out at the window. this confrontation was not going to turn into a confession, not when you were both on the way to literally help him kiss someone else. 

“i’m not unhappy.” haechan says, slowly. “i just…” the car behind you honks, and he hurriedly moves the car forward, but soon stops again. traffic on new years eve was impossible. “i lied that day.” you look over at him, unsure what he was talking about. “i didn’t ask yeri out. she asked me out.” 

you take a moment to process this, but it doesn’t really change anything. “okay.”

“and, i guess i never really thought about her that way before. but she just asked, and suddenly i realised that maybe i did like her. it’s weird, it kind of felt like after she asked me out all of our casual conversations in class just took on a different meaning. i’d never even really thought about her that way before, and suddenly it made sense.” 

why was he telling you this ?! you think love truly brings out the worst in people, because you wanted to jump out of the car instantly. you had to be happy for him, and there was no mark to act as a buffer. you’re about to say something, when he continues on. 

“i told you and mark that night because i waited for you to ask me why i really liked her. or really just, i don’t know, help me figure out exactly how i felt about her.” he ran his hand through his hair. “but i guess you just didn’t say anything and i just kind of went with it.” 

“well…” you try to disengage yourself from the situation. it sounded like haechan really valued your opinion, as a friend, and you hadn’t been there for him. “sorry. i guess it just took us by surprise.” you cringe as you realise that by speaking on mark’s behalf, it really did seem as if you were leaving haechan out. “took me by surprise, i mean. well, do you like her?” 

he laughs a little at that. “it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” 

“it’s never too late to rethink how you feel about someone.” you say, quietly. 

haechan looks over at you, and it’s his gaze: as if he’s looking for the answer in your eyes, that makes you look away. you glance at the clock, and suddenly you freeze. 11:58. you scramble to put on the radio. “fuck, haechan we’re not gonna make it.” 

“y/n-” 

“you should call yeri and tell her you’re going to be late. she’ll be really mad if you don’t show up. she must be really worried-” 

“y/n, please listen to me.” he takes both hands off the wheel, reaches out and holds your face in his hands. the radio announcer has just flickered on: the countdown has started. “i’m just going to say it. that day in the cafe: i was afraid you knew something. actually, i was afraid you realized that i liked you. every day, i would wait for you to say i love you, because i wanted to have a reason to say it, even if it was to say it back. i thought about how much you cared about me and i thought if i thought about you less, if i payed attention to other people, if i let more people into my life, it would be easier just being your friend." 

‘5!’

“but it’s not.” 

‘4!’

“it didn’t get easier, and i just miss you-”

‘3!’

“-every day because i think-” 

‘2!’

“i really think that…” 

‘1!’ 

and he doesn’t even bother finishing his sentence. he leans in, and kisses you. your head is wiped of everything he just said. you don’t think of yeri, you don’t think of mark, you don’t think about the afternoon at the cafe or that moment you saw under the mistletoe. you’re wrapped up in him, in the smell of his perfume. the graze of his fingertips against your cheek. and you reach out over the console, and wrap your arms around his waist like you always wanted to. 

when you break apart, the radio announcer wishing everyone a happy new year, he mumbles. “didn’t get to finish my confession.” 

you laugh and lean forward, to kiss him again. the cars on the road had all stopped, and you think that maybe the whole universe has been waiting for this moment. “i’ll do it for you. i think i really like you haechan. i think i love you.” 

and you think maybe it’s not so cruel, to sit with your best friend, who you are in love with, and who loves you back, the kiss still buzzing on your lips, as you watch the fireworks in the sky, the voice on the radio singing in the new year.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! I hope you’re enjoying this story as much as I am! This chapter is semi Francesca focused, hope y’all like her! Quite a bit of backstory in this one, we uncover a family mystery and I’m so sorry for it.

Lmk what you think x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Smoking, swearing, general awkwardness, mentions of death/loss,

Tags: @malarkgirlypop , @panzershrike-pretz (let me know if you want to be added!)

Made of Glass

Chapter thirteen: Baby Birdie

Smoking had always been something Francesca took solace in, the earthy smell reminded her of the men in her family. Her father had smoked since before she was born, she always pictured him with a thin cylinder of fine tobacco in his hand. 

When her two older brothers had hit their early teens, they both took up the habit. At first, they had hidden it from the paternal figure but quickly came to realise he didn't care so they stopped sneaking out to puff cigarettes in the dark alleys of their neighbourhood. 

Francesca often thought of her brothers and how they were fairing. Both had enlisted in the US marine corps the second Europe had declared war within itself in 1939. Her oldest brother, Giovanni, was 23 and the younger, Niccolo, was 22, that was nearly three years ago, and she hadn't seen them since. She would receive one, maybe two letters from each of them yearly and that's how she knew they were both still alive. 

She turned her thoughts else where, inhaling and exhaling gray clouds. Rossi was perched on the steps of the barracks she lived in, enjoying the quiet dark. 

To her dismay, the quiet dark was disturbed by the rhythmic thump of Army issued boots and the dirt path that lead in her direction. 

Francesca saw the shadowy outline of two figures, two figures that were yet to notice her. 

As they came closer, she recognised Birdie but not the man she was with. The pair seemed uncomfortable, the girl fidgeted with her hands and the guy was looking every which way except towards the woman. 

Francesca cringed for them. Their weird energy reached out and touched her and she wanted to run off or hide her face in her hands. 

She didn’t. She sat and watched. 

It was like witnessing a car wreck, Rossi could not pull her attention away, morbidly curious to see what happens next. 

Nobody said anything, no words exchanged but the couple had stopped walking and both looked like they wanted to hang themselves. 

Rossi kept silent, hoping if she said nothing they wouldn't notice her and she could ignore this moment of her life. 

“Uh...” And, “Well...” Were spoken at the same time by each of the on edge….friends? Were they friends? Francesca couldn't tell. 

“Thanks... for ya know....” It was Birdie who bucked up and broke the bizarre tension that had formed in the strained hush between them. 

“Yeah...” The man turned to walk away, figuring he could leave the strange encounter and act like this interaction did not occur. 

“Liebgott?” The southern woman called out to him, pausing his steps, he looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yeah?” There was a beat of nothing. Birdie fidgeted once again. To Francesca it looked like she was about to tell him something important, begin a speech or break some bad news to the poor fellow attempting to run away. But Birdie didn’t, she only uttered one word and it sounded forced. 

“Night.” It's not what she wanted to say but in all honesty she didn't know what she wanted to say. It was like she spoke his name but didn't remember why. 

“Night, Coldwell.” Then he was gone, Birdie couldn't help but feel something. Disappointment? Unfulfillment? She was conflicted and she didn't really know why. 

“That was weird.” 

“Jesus Christ!” Bernadette's hand flew to her chest and she whipped her head around faster than the speed of light. Though she calmed when she noticed Francesca sitting in the dark, huffing on the tail end of a cigarette. 

“Frankie! Announce yourself dammit! You scared me half to death....” Birdie let out a sigh, “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough.” She answered, “Wanna smoke?” 

“God yes.” The younger girl accepted her offer and sat down next to her roommate, taking the tobacco stick between her fingers. Francesca took out a second one and placed it between her lips, then lit both. 

They sat side by side, huffing and puffing until there was nothing left to consume. 

“Frankie, huh? I earned myself a Birdie nickname.” The Italian woman commented lightheartedly. 

“Sure did.” A smile grew on her face, the nickname had slipped out accidentally but she was glad for it. This moment felt like a good one, one she'd look back on as the beginning of their blossoming friendship. 

“At least it's not a disease.” She had a smirk on her lips, word of Birdie’s STD riddled friend had gotten around.

“Was that… a joke? Did you just make a joke, Frankie?” A giggle escaped her lips. 

“Yeah, cherish it. I won't be making another.” The black haired woman spoke in a stoic tone but a smile crept onto her face and she bumped shoulders with Birdie, who laughed at the action. Francesca felt herself smiling wider at Birdies enjoyment, the noise was filled with a musical merriment and it was contagious. 

The women sat outside on the wooden steps and shared another cigarette, they passed this one between them. Bernadette began telling Frankie the childhood story of how she acquired her nickname: Birdie. As a toddler learning to speak, the full ‘Bernadette’ was a incoherent babble so one of her older sisters had shortened it for her to Bernie. But of course the two year old's pronunciation was still being perfected and it changed to Birdie and stuck. 

The image of a baby Bernadette, wobbling around on uncertain feet calling herself Birdie sparked a chuckle from the Italian girl. It prompted her to share her own tale from her youth and the two went back and forth, while one puffed on the smoke the other would share a memory. 

This is how Bernadette learnt of Frankie’s family. Her father worked as a mechanic as did she and her two older brothers before they all enlisted. She was surprised to hear they were both currently deployed in the Pacific theatre of war. 

Birdie shared the information of her own brother, the eldest: Victor, affectionately called Junior as Victor was also their fathers name. He signed up for the US Navy in 1939 and after training was stationed in Hawaii. He was aboard the SS Arizona when it was targeted by the Japanese. He died on December 7th, 1941 in Pearl Harbour. 

He was the reason Birdie and James had signed up. Originally, the southerner was going to put her name down as a nurse but she’d heard of the special program for women and how it would send her to the front lines and she was in, no questions. 

Francesca sympathised, she too had lost a family member. The New York Italian informed her new friend of her seldom talked about parent. Her mother had an incurable sickness and passed away when Frankie was young. Young enough that she barely remembered the woman, she could vaguely picture a face, a warm smile, an encompassing hug, a gentle voice or sweet smell but not much else. 

Most of what she knew of her mother was learnt from pictures or stories her brothers told her. She had asked her father about the woman once and he did not react well. He yelled and hissed at her and stomped off to his room to drink away the memories of his late wife. Frankie never asked him about her mother again.

Bernadette had hugged her after hearing the tragedy. She was incredibly close with her family, especially her mother and couldn’t imagine not having her in her life. Francesca didn’t mind much, she didn’t know anything different, but she accepted the hug anyway, Birdie was warm and the comfort she provided, was needed.

The pack of smokes had emptied over the course of time the two spent bonding, which was their signal to head inside and sleep. 

Which is exactly what they did, sharing a look from across the room as a silent ‘goodnight’. 

—————————— 

As the weeks phased into months Toccoa began to feel more like home. Bernadette had found her footing and slipped into a schedule she looked forward to. Lectures were a welcome break from vigorous PT and the friends she had made were becoming closer and closer everyday. 

Liebgott had gone back to dropping bad natured comments aimed at her the morning after whatever that night was. Although his tone had changed and his words seemed more like attempted jokes. She noticed his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges when he muttered the banter and his genuine distain for her felt fake and put on as if he wanted everyone (including himself) to believe he didn’t like her. She replied with her typical witty comebacks but hers too felt forced like a show for anyone listening. The shift unsettled her to her core but she didn’t really know why, she should be happy Liebgott was finally coming round and didn’t wish her dead… so why wasn’t she? 

On the third day after the entire Harriet debacle, all four men were apprehended. 

Nixon had told Birdie that someone outside of the attackers had confirmed the initial confession, which gave them absolute proof. The three men were dishonourably discharged and sent home in disgrace, while the fourth man was transferred out of the 506 and left Camp Toccoa effective immediately. 

Birdie was pleased to hear the news but couldn’t for the life of her figure out who had told Sink, maybe the men had blabbed to their friends and one of them felt bad? Who knows, it was anyone's guess. 

Birdie didn’t dwell on it too much, instead she had wrote to Harriet and explained the whole story. The ex-How company woman was still recovering weeks later with a broken pelvis and stitches in the back of her head but she had been allowed to move to her home state. She thanked Birdie for her part in finding and punishing her violators and had truly meant it, learning of the men being held accountable had eased her mind. It eased Bernadette’s guilt some but she figured the feeling she couldn’t get rid of would stay with her for the rest of her life, always wondering what might have been.

The two promised to keep in contact and Harriet even invited Birdie to come visit her in San Diego once the war was over. Of course, Bernadette had accepted and found herself picturing California, it became her fantasy, one she would carry with her throughout the years ahead of her. 

The entire regiment was being moved to Fort Benning, marching 137 miles to break some record the Japanese troops held. It took three and a bit days of marching plus a train ride but they reached their destination. 

Fort Benning was set up similarly to Camp Toccoa yet they were so different, it gave Birdie an eerie feeling of familiarity. 

A/N: That was a tad depressing, sorry folks! But Birdie and Frankie bonded over dead loved ones so yay!

Also, finally they’re in Fort Benning, goodbye Toccoa!

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter fourteen

[googleitlol]

My Beloved: Ch. 6

Surprise

Idc if this gif isn’t a lmk one it’s too perfect for the chapter and Toffee is an icon

Mei was practically vibrating as she told her friends of her plan. They stood together on the deck of Sandy's boat, huddled around the dragon descendent as she showed them the image on her phone. All of her companions were there, save for one.

"This is gonna be great, Mei! Lian will be so happy." MK beamed, energized by Mei's enthusiasm.

Pigsy and Tang shared a worried look. While they also agreed that the idea was great, it was the execution that concerned them. Ever since her visit to the Flaming Foundry, Lian had been put on edge. She explained to them what the Demon Bull Family had told her, that they were seemingly allies before she lost her memory.

She had no intention of taking the family's side, though the experience had left her uneasy. Mei's gift would definitely be a nice way to cheer her up, the only issue was the way Mei was presenting it...

"You sure you want this to be a surprise, Mei?" Pigsy crossed his arms. "You know how Lian gets when you try to hide things from her."

The girl crossed her arms. "Lian won't get here for another hour. She won't know if nobody tells her, MK." The Monkie Kid shrunk a bit under her gaze, chuckling nervously to himself.

Sandy frowned, looking between Mei and Pigsy. "Wait, why is it a bad idea to throw a surprise for Lian?"

"You know Lian, Sandy. She doesn't like surprises." Pigsy shook his head, looking down before pointing back at the girl. "And she'll know if you're throwing one so all this planning is just gonna be pointless!"

"How could she know?" Sandy turned to Tang, who was in the midst of cleaning his glasses.

"She always knows." Tang sighed as he put them back on. The group looked between one another, then looked out to the docks and surrounding area. "Why don't we take this talk in the elevator? We know Lian won't go in there with how small it is."

~~~~

Damn it, they're getting smarter.

I knew something was off today. During breakfast earlier this morning, MK was texting Mei when he began fidgeting. His leg started bobbing up and down, a tell that he was getting excited over something. If it wasn't a secret, he would've outright shared whatever the news was with me.

They were hiding something, so I would have to get to the bottom of it. Before he had left, I told MK I had some errands to run and wouldn't be able to hang out much so I could tag him without suspicion. Part of me felt bad for snooping, but I couldn't help it!

It wasn't like I didn't trust MK or anything, I loved the kid. What bothered me was not knowing whatever he and Mei were trying to hide. After all, what if they didn't realize what they were hiding could be a devastating secret that might tear apart our relationship, should it continue to be kept a secret.

Was it a paranoid idea to have? Yes. Would that stop me? No.

I couldn't do nothing, I physically couldn't. If I knew something was up, that awful aching in my chest would grow and burrow itself into my lungs and make each of my breaths shallow. It was like I could keel over from its pain. I had to get to the bottom of this, for peace of mind.

After a little while, the group came back out of the elevator, Mei whistled for her motorbike that zoomed down the docks to meet her at the boat. Waving goodbye to the others, she took off. If I wanted to figure out what was going on with the group, I'd have to go to the source.

Following her on the Find My Friends app MK, Mei and I shared, I noticed she was going to our workshop. It had been a while since I visited the building, what could she be doing there?

I still remembered when I first invited her into the workshop. It was back when her and MK were still in school. I was fixing up the delivery cart and she approached with a bolt I hadn't realized I dropped.

She seemed interested in my work. The girl offered to help me by passing the tools I needed, which then turned into me explaining what I was doing as she became curious on how I was able to fix the old engine of the cart.

That curiosity led to me showing her my workshop where I kept all my more interesting vehicles. The way her eyes lit up was still crystal clear in my mind, that look of wonder told me what I needed to know about her, she'd love mechanics.

So I offered to show her a few things, the basics with some tips and tricks. I even helped her build the bike she used today. The way her face lit up when she revved it's engine that first time, I was glad she found something she could be so passionate about.

It didn't take much longer before I approached the large garage door of the workshop, which was closed. Mei usually worked with it open. Going around to the door proved to be pointless as it was locked. Very suspicious.

My keys for the workshop were at home so I knocked on the door. "Mei, it's Lian. I know you're in there." At the sound of my voice, I heard a yelp followed by several crashes and metal scratching.

The door yanked open, Mei stepping out with a grin before closing the door behind her. "Lian! What're you doing here? I thought you had stuff to do."

"Let's cut to the chase, Mei-Mei." I smiled, her face dropping as I did. "I know you're hiding something."

The girl glanced away. "Dang it, MK." She grumbled, making me stifle a laugh.

"Don't blame the boy, he's not at fault for my powers of deduction." I crossed my arms as I spoke. "But you should know that unless you tell me what's going on, I will get to the bottom of it myself."

Mei furrowed her brows at my words, her stare softening before letting out a sigh. "Fine. I'm planning a surprise for you, okay?"

"Yes?" I leaned forward a bit, waiting for her to continue the sentence.

She laughed as I awaited her continuation. "I'm not telling you what it is! That'd ruin the surprise."

I frowned. "Come on, Mei! You know how I feel about surprises." I groaned, though the girl just rolled her eyes.

"It's a good one, I promise." She put a hand over her heart and rested her other on my shoulder. Despite her assurance, it couldn't stop the twisting of my chest as the ache intensified.

Mei noticed my frown and sighed. "Please, Lian, let me do this for you. Just this once." Her eyes were pleading, and I felt my heart being torn two separate directions. I know Mei, she wouldn't do something like this if it was bad. But the other half of my heart refused to listen to rational thought. There were too many 'what if's.

"... Fine. I'll let it go for now." Mei's grin stretched wide at my words, and she engulfed me in a tight hug. I could barely breathe with how tight the hug was.

She squealed a little as she let go. "Thank you! I promise, you're going to love it. Just sit back and relax, I'll get you once everything's ready."

"Relax... I will bring you once everything's ready."

The ache gripped onto my heart, crushing it under a pressure so intense I had to fight to keep myself standing. I did my best to conceal the sharp intake of breath I took with a crooked smile. I nodded to my friend. "Sounds... sounds good."

"I'll see you in a bit, okay?" The girl wrapped me in a hug before running back into the workshop. I stood there for a moment, unable to move.

This was okay. This was fine. All I have to do is wait. I can wait until whatever Mei is doing... is ready. Super easy. Really easy.

...I need some tea.

Turning on my heel, I began to walk back to my apartment. Sandy let me keep some of his anti-stress tea at home now, there were some times I'd need it at ungodly hours of the night, so to prevent anymore late night withdrawals, he gave me a box of his special brew.

When I got back, MK had taken the cart out to make some deliveries. Pigsy was working back in the kitchen while Tang was scarfing down a bowl of noodles. I quickly nodded to the scholar. "Hi, Tang. Bye, Tang."

The man barely had time to say a word before I headed up to the apartment. Switching on the kettle, I scrambled to find the box and a clean mug. The ache was persistent, beating like a drum that vibrated in my chest and through my entire being.

"This is fine. Yup, all good." I smiled to myself, closing my eyes and taking in deep breaths to stop the pang from growing. Something banged against the door and I jumped with a yelp, unprepared for the noise and dropping the mug.

It shattered on impact with the ground, making my skin prickle at the sound as I cussed under my breath. I tried my best not to scream out in frustration. "Lian?" Tang's voice was on the other side of the door. "Are you okay in there?" I shook my head, as if to release these bundles and tangles of anxiously-charged energies building up in my body.

"Just a second!" I called back, rushing for the broom to sweep up the mess. Once it was clean and I felt ready enough, I opened the door with a smile. "Hey, Tang. Is everything okay?"

The man looked at me with a frown, looking over me with concern. "Are you?" I felt my eye twitch at the question, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We should sit." Tang sighed, and I let him in right as the kettle began to whistle. The scholar blinked a little as he looked around the apartment. MK and I weren't the most organized people, that was obvious to anyone. However, more recently I may have been letting the apartment get a bit too messy.

Ignoring the mess, Tang moved towards the kettle. "Sit, I'll pour the tea for you." I nodded, not wanting to speak in case my voice decided to fail me. Why was I such a ball of nerves?

My friend set the mug in front of me once I sat at the counter. Blowing on the drink gently, I took a sip. It's warmth entered my stomach and seeped into my skin. With a shudder, I closed my eyes and released a long breath. "Feel better?" I nodded, and Tang took off his glasses to clean them.

"Listen, I get you've been a little worried since that sleepover, but you really don't have to worry about Mei's surprise." He smiled, my eyes wandering over the counter as he spoke. "You always end up stressing yourself out over nothing."

I sighed, looking down at my tea. "I know, it's just hard."

"I can guarantee you'll feel better once you see it." I looked back up to see him smile, and I took a sip of my tea. The ache was slowing, growing faint.

Placing the mug back down, I sighed. "Okay, I'll drop it."

Tang nodded. "Good, now how about a free bowl for my services?"

I quickly helped Tang find the door.

I leaned against the apartment door, my arms crossed and fingers thrumming against my forearm. He was right, they were all right. I've heard it all before. It was just the paranoia, all I needed was to relax.

My eyes glanced to where MK and I kept our keys. My gaze fixed on a specific one. "Nope. I don't need it. I can just sit in here and relax. No need to go anywhere else today."

I chuckled, picking back up my tea mug and drinking some more. It was fading, but the ache was present. "Tang is right... he's right." My eyes fell back onto the set of keys. Tang is right.

I'll feel better once I see it.

~~~~

Mei was gone, the app showed that she was on her way back to Pigsy's so I just had to take a longer route to avoid bumping into her. She wouldn't even know I was there. In and out, easy.

My hands fumbled a bit as I unlocked the door, quickly scanning my surrounding area to make sure nobody could see me. As soon as I peeked at whatever this thing was, my stupid heart can stop trying to die and I'll finally be able to relax.

I made sure the door closed quietly behind me, even though I was the only one here, and quickly turned on the lights. It had really been quite some time since I was here. Mei kept things pretty well-organized. Our two work tables were side-by-side against the far wall, hers had some blueprints for something scribbled on there. The wall adjacent to our desks held some lockers along with cabinets for where we kept some of our tools.

What was different, however, was the motorbike in the centre of the workshop.

It was sleek in design, a lustrous black with white markings that streaked across the bike. I approached it slowly, taking in each of its details. "Wow... did she build this all on her own?"

Between the handlebars, there was an engraved message. "'World's coolest grandma'? What a little..." I chuckled, shaking my head lightly. A warmth filled my chest at the sight of it.

"I can't believe she did this." Pride tugged at the corners of my lips. It felt as though my smile had permanently attached itself to my face. Her work was so impressive! To think that a few years ago, Mei was only just beginning to learn and here she is now, building full-on motorcycles all on her own.

I wanted to ask her how long this took before looking down at myself. Mei hasn't shown me yet, I'll have to ask her after acting surprised to see it. My nose scrunched up at my actions. Why couldn't I have just waited?

"Don't tell me this is yours." I spun around at the sound of a new voice. Red Son approached the motorbike, crouching down to inspect the engine.

I jumped back, surprised by his sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?!"

"I'll admit, it's well-built." He ignored me, more interested in the motorcycle. "Considering you must have had to work with whatever pathetic shoddy materials peasants use." He eyed the workshop in seeming disgust.

With a frown, I crossed my arms. "I didn't build that, my friend did. Now what are you doing here, Red Son?"

Standing back to full height, the prince rested his hands on his sides. "I thought that would be obvious. My family needs your answer, Sword Lady."

I don't even have a sword, why does he keep— Ugh, whatever. "Sorry to disappoint, but I've decided to decline your parents 'generous' offer."

"What?!" He sputtered, not expecting the answer. "This is a joke, right? You're refusing the Demon Bull Family? Do you know how far back your connection to my mother and father go?!" He really looked shocked, though I did my best to keep my composure.

"I don't, and I couldn't care less." My frown hardened. "You ask me to choose between my friends that have shown how much they care for me and supposed allies from a time I can't recall, I will choose my current family every time."

"...You're kidding, right?"

I scoffed at his disbelief. "Just get out of here, junior, before I make you."

"You think you can?!" His hair burst into flames, his eyes igniting in anger. I huffed at his tone, this wouldn't end well.

Red Son sprinted at me and I was quick to go on the defence. The demon was swift, swinging with his left before sending rapid punches at my person. I just dodged them, blocking a few with my arms before he landed one that sent me flying back.

I left a dent in the lockers when I flew into them, my teeth gritting as my False Staff formed in my hands. I jumped into the air, slamming the weapon down onto the boy. Red Son blocked with his arms and I jumped back.

Using the staff as a vault, I propelled myself towards the villain and kicked him in the gut. He fell back but was quick to flip back onto his feet and come at me with a flaming fist. He shouted as I knocked his outstretched arm away with my False Weapon but he was quick to pivot, raising a leg that sent a kick hard into my side.

I fell back with a grunt, crashing into the motorcycle and knocking it over. The sound of scraping metal stabbed my heart, and I looked back to see the bike on its side. Ohhhhh, I am so dead. The damage wasn't too bad but Mei was definitely gonna know I was here now.

Red Son glared at me, his eyes focused on the look on my face. "Touchy about our vehicles, are we?"

I glared at him for the insinuation. "Don't you even think about it." I growled, jumping back into action and attacking once more. It was his turn to be on the defence as I hit him rapidly with hit after hit.

Red Son jumped back a bit and I ran after him, slamming the demon with the staff and sending him flying into the wall. With a growl, he leapt forward, kicking the staff from my hands. It vanished into a plume of white smoke and as Red Son landed, I made sure to knock out his feet from under him, forcing him to fall back.

The prince just barely rolled away in time before I could land a hit on his fallen figure. Before I could pursue him, I halted to a stop, my eyes widening. Balls of fire formed in his hands, the boy leisurely tossing one into the air with a grin.

It was my turn to run as he began throwing flames at my person. "Come on, staff! Fan? Anything?!" I stressed under my breath as I tried my best to summon any sort of weapon.

The False Fan materialized and I smirked. Nothing like using the enemy's weapon against their son. Damn, that's a weird thing to think.

Turning back to face the demon, I saw another ball of flames hurdling towards me. Swiftly, I swung the fan in its direction, a powerful surge of wind erupting from the weapon and blasting the fire back.

The fire went flying towards the lockers before the gust of wind broke down a section of the wall. I blinked at the destruction, not intending for that to have happened. But before I could think or even gather my thoughts, I was blocking another fireball.

That immediately hit the bike.

My eyes went wide at the sight. "Shoot." The fan dissipated into cloud as I looked down in horror at the sight. The following bout of wind caused by my defence had thrown it against the wall where the desks sat. The impact broke the wall and destroyed the bike.

In my moment of distraction, Red Son managed to hit me with his next attack and I flew into the garage door. Then my heart stopped at the surprised shouts on the other side of the door. I stumbled forward in time for the door to be lifted up, revealing Mei and MK on the other side in the delivery cart.

We stared at each other with wide eyes, Mei in shock as her gaze flickered between me to Red Son to the totalled workshop. My chest twisted at the gasp that left her when she saw the bike. "What... What are you doing here?"

Before I could answer, Red Son cut in. "You don't want any part of the Demon Bull Family? Fine, then, be miserable and pathetic with the rest of these peasants!" He snarked before surrounding himself in flames that quickly vanished along with him.

It quickly grew quiet as he left. MK was quick to put out the flames that remained of the fight, but the damage was done. Mei went to her bike, though it was now melted and charred. The exhaust pipe was bent out of shape and part of the handlebar had broken off somewhere.

Slowly, I approached the girl, my hand outstretched to reach for her shoulder. "Mei, I'm so sorry..."

"Why couldn't you wait?!" She spun around to face me, her anger laced with tears that brimmed at her eyes. "I told you I'd come get you, why did you come back?!"

My hand retracted as I tried to say something, anything, but the words got caught in my throat. I hadn't seen Mei this furious before. "You always have to control everything, why can't you just trust that I was trying to do something nice for you?!"

Her words punctured my chest, like arrows they twisted and made my teeth clench in pain as my throat swelled shut. Glaring at me one last time, the girl ran off. I moved to follow her but MK held me back by my arm.

I frowned, understanding his action and stepping back. I'd make things worse if I tried following her right now. "...How long has she been working on the bike?"

"She's had it at her place for a couple months now, she told me about it this morning." MK looked down, his words another arrow that now hit me in the back, between my shoulder blades and made me tense. Months of work, and I just...

My fist clenched, I glared down at the ground. I really screwed up this time. That was blatantly obvious. I just hoped I could find a way to make it up to her.

~~~~

I hadn't heard much from Mei the next day, not like I expected to. Guilt pumped through my veins as I walked over to her house. Her parents were cool enough to let me in, though I don't think Mei told them what was going on. They did seem to know that their daughter was upset, and told me she was in her room.

Approaching the door, I knocked. "Mei? It's Lian, can I come in?" I waited for a response, but there was none.

With a sigh, I sat against the door. I wasn't really good at this. I could be straightforward, honest, but it was difficult when it came to talking about feelings. I can joke, be snarky about it, not a whole lot of things fazed me anymore so it was easy to not make a big deal out of them. But right now, that's what I needed.

"I don't understand why I did it. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me, but I just can't leave it alone." I looked down to my hands. "It's like knowing there's not a monster in the dark but still sprinting up the stairs when you turn the basement lights off."

My hand fell over my chest as I looked up to the ceiling. "I just get this ache. And it makes me afraid, but I don't understand why. It makes me feel this fear of what the people I'm closest with can do. I know you would never hurt me, but that doesn't stop the feeling from going away." I hated it so much, I wanted so badly to learn to stop it, but after years upon years of it's presence, I've grown to accept it wouldn't go away.

"But it's no excuse for ruining your surprise." I frowned, turning to glance at the door. "I'm sorry, Mei. I really am." I waited for a little while longer, but there was no answer.

With a sigh, I got to my feet and headed to leave. As I did, I passed the games room. Memories of our sleepover came back to me, and I exhaled. I'm supposed to be the one looking out for her, and I just made her hurt more.

Scanning over the room, my eyes landed on one of her dragon plushies. My brows furrowing, I took the toy into my arms. I had to make this up to her.

~~~~

The workshop was still pretty banged up when I got there. I definitely had my work cut out for me. That didn't matter at the moment, though. The next night, I spent hours hunched over my desk, running to and from the many cabinets and shelves that held our various tools and screws and materials, and occasionally petting the soft dragon plushie of Mei's.

I'm not exactly sure how long it took. Monkey King dropped off a plum or two... I think? MK came over once with some of Sandy's tea, but the next time he came over he brought some energy drinks. I was getting into the zone, my surroundings blurring into obscurity as I worked to complete the—

"Lian? Lian!" I jumped at the voice, startled by how close it was. Looking up, I saw Mei standing over my desk, her hands in her pockets as she looked at me with a frown. "...Why did you take my plushie?"

I blinked a few times, adjusting to what I was seeing. "Oh! Mei, sorry for not telling you. I was leaving your house the other day and saw it. Inspiration kind of hit and I thought..." I fumbled with my hands as I looked around for the little control I made earlier.

"Sorry, I haven't tested it yet." I mumbled, continuing my search until I found it on the floor with some papers I must've dropped at some point.

Mei watched me with a neutral look, albeit with some confusion as well. I grabbed the control off the floor, showing it to the girl the little trinket. It was a little charm of her dragon blade. Taking Mei's hand, I placed the charm in her hold. "Now, what's the opposite of down?"

"Up?" Mei furrowed her brows, her confusion growing until she heard the faint whirring on my desk. Her eyes went wide seeing the little dragon plush hovering in the air.

With a sigh, I leaned back on my chair. "...Y'know, I couldn't really say this before without giving away the whole 'immortal' thing, but you know I helped with the design for some of our first engines?"

Mei remained silent, looking instead at her plush that slowly hovered towards her. "I can tell you about it if you want, maybe we can fix up the bike while I do?"

Mei looked around my workspace, then back to me. "Maybe... you should get some rest, first."

I looked over my space with an amused huff. There was litter everywhere, a small hill of energy drinks stacked over one another on my desk that had started dropping onto the floor. "Yeah, maybe I should." I stretched, an involuntary yawn breaking through as I did.

A frown settled over my features. "I'm really sorry, Mei."

"I know you are." She responded, holding her plush in her arms now. She looked away, her eyes on the ground. "...There was a second part to the gift. It's a—"

"No, don't tell me." I cut her off. "You can surprise me later." I smiled, the girl giving me a surprised look.

Her shock only lasted a few moments before she smiled as well. "Hmph, if you're okay with it."

Standing up, I wrapped the girl in a hug. She reciprocated, her arms wrapping tight around me as she rested her head on my shoulder while I did the same.

"But seriously. You should really talk to someone about what you told me, it was concerning."

"Heh... yeah, I probably should."

Word Count: 4731

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[oraclesclocktower]

superman and batman + holding/shaking hands

“we’ re like night and day, you and I, and yet, we’re closer than we realize, closer than twins, because we complement each other. we fit each other… like hand and glove.” - world’s finest #289 (1983)

[danny-chase]

Warnings: violence, blood, realism in comics, me mentioning things stans want to ignore to make a point, you don't have to consider them canon, I'm just making a point don't hurt me

Right. Been seeing dialog about Jason's decision to give up guns that i feel is missing a few points.

1. Bruce is traumatized by guns. Yeah he jumps in the line of fire every night but that doesn't mean he isn't scared of/triggered by them:

[Image ID: Oracle!Babs and Robin!Tim roll/walk through the clocktower. Babs: (about guns) Hates them. But doesn't fear them. Tim: Not the way he jumps in the line of fire night after night. Babs: Line of fire... Babs: I was afraid of them for a long time. I'd go faint at the sight of a gun on TV. Tim: You have reasons, Barbara. So does Batman. Babs: But I. worked through them. Babs: Maybe Bruce hasn't. Maybe he's not the rock we thought he was. Tim: He bought a gun as therapy? Babs: Look at the facts. He bought it just like any other citizen. Like he wanted to experience it as someone else would. Tim: I don't think- Computer: Keyword media search alert. Tim: What's that? End ID]

Birds of Prey (1998) #40

Bruce's opposition of guns is partially based in trauma - it's not completely a moral stance or completely logical rule. Jason giving up guns is for himself, but it allows him to be closer to Bruce and for Bruce to be more relaxed in his presence -> can make their relationship closer.

2. [X] weapon isn't even lethal. Getting cut/hurt + no health care = possible death from infection -> shooting a henchman with regular bullets in the foot can be lethal. Or cutting them with a batarang.

[Image ID: A girl walks home getting off the school bus. Girl: "Mama, I know you don't want to hear this, but --" She opens the door to an empty run down house. Girl: "Mama? Mama are you --?" She opens up the bathroom door, revealing her mother sweating and bleeding out on the ground, trying to press a towel to a wound on her side. Her mom is wearing a henchman outfit for the H.I.V.E. Girl: "Mama!" Mom: "Why -- Why are you home so soon?" The girl holds her mom in a sitting position. Girl: "This isn't the flu. You said you had the flu." Mom: "I -- I will be better soon. I just need to rest." Girl: "You need a hospital, mama." Mom: "No. If they find out -- they'll take you away from me. Send me back to Guatemala." The final panel shows a wisp of Ravens cape, the view zoomed out. Girl: "I know you want to protect me, but you need help now -- no matter what happens later." Raven: "Maybe I can help." End ID]

Titans: Titans Together #4

Similarly could ppl stop acting like rubber bullets are non lethal, everything the batfam uses can be lethal and cause scenes like above. Literally none of them can claim moral high ground they've all thrown batarangs in people's faces (off the top of my head, Jason nailed Dick with one in the face in BoC and Bruce got Jason in the neck in UTRH so there's the two characters at odds).

3. Jason/Bruce has never hurt an undeserving person. Jason isn't a mass murderer and you're slandering him. Bruce is the best dad ever you're an idiot for thinking otherwise.

...did you miss the times he tried to kill Tim? Or sprayed Dick with fear gas? Or shot Damian in the chest (not rubber bullets mind you). All of this happened in Battle of the Cowl. He poisoned 82 prisoners indiscriminately in Batman and Robin (2009) #23, went around killing random "thugs" in Brothers in Blood arc of Nightwing. Is it slander if he did it? Idk. If anyone can answer that lmk but everything is canon now so the point is moot.

And let me also say if everythings canon Bruce has also hurt/hit/abused his family (i don't have the specific issue numbers but runs that I've seen bad dad Bruce in are The New Titans, Batgirl (2000), Nightwing (1996), Tom Kings crap, RHATO rebirth, etc. I don't feel like going into detail but if hard pressed i will) don't try to paint me as a Bruce or Jason apologist/hater please

Also literally see the panel above 💀 the mom is an undocumented immigrant from Guatemala with an engineering degree she can't use because the US gov is literally fucking flaming garbage, so she had to take that job to provide for her daughter. Quit thinking extrajudicial murder/vigilantism is a woke take. No. Stop. Bad. Criminals have rights for a reason.

Can you choose to call the above things Jason and Bruce have done ooc and bad writing. Yep. Go ahead, be my guest. Just it's weird to me that ppl always seem to do it for one character and not the other. Like... that's not productive dialogue? And yeah both Jason and Bruce stans do this i just happened to see a post from a Jason stan so he got to be shamed first. If you think i think my fave is wrong, i literally made a post publically shaming him at one point, and wrote an entire fic dedicated to me pointing out why i think characters would hate him the most 🤷‍♀️ if someone read a comic that shows your fave in a bad light don't call them stupid for not liking that character just point them in the right direction and if you don't want to. Don't. Just block them. I'm tired of watching ppl act like their better than each other because they don't consider things canon (unless you stan a minority character and don't consider their racist/sexist writing canon in which case, same, you're the best ppl in this fandom)💀 or referencing fanon as canon and telling ppl to go read more comics 💀

Anyways the takeaways I've come out with are, this debate between the two is more than just morals, they've both wronged each other, and trying to simplify it down into victim and abuser is just - missing nuance and ignoring their full histories in my opinion and kinda just ends up flattening both characters and making both of them less relatable

[libraryofloveletters]

Sober Feelings, Drunk Words

In which, Luke returned home lost and alone, he turned to the bottle for help and you for recovery. 

Luke Alvez x Reader 

Warnings: Fem!reader, self destructive tendencies, consumption and mixing of drugs (sleeping pills) and alcohol, being drunk, the use of alcohol as a coping method, help to induce throwing up and vomit, 2 cuss words lmao, a bit of arguing and sadness (that's it I think ? lmk if I missed anything) 

Category: Angst to the max 

Word Count: 4.9k

Author’s Note: this hurt my heart to write, I was feeling very angsty for some reason idk :/ didn’t use the whole song either but major thank you to ishi for all her help with this! <3 @iconicc​

Major Disclaimer: this is purely fiction, if someone does mix alcohol and pills, call 911. Don't do what y/n did. 

Song: Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ? 

----

The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time

But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you

Home didn’t feel like home anymore. 

Luke had been gone for quite a while, he sat in his empty apartment with nothing around except for the tv on the floor. He laid on the floor, his clothes scattered across the room with no intention of being put away anytime soon. 

Things didn't feel normal anymore. 

There was no will to do anything or even attempt to do so. Luke sat there feeling empty and hopeless. The urge to drink hit him, it wasn't something he indulged in very often but found himself doing a lot more since he returned home. 

The journey to the bar felt a lot slower than usual, he took in the sight, smell and sounds around him. A couple on a walk with their dog, a family’s laughter coming from their opened kitchen window, the smell of freshly baked cookies which he could only assume was coming from the bakery he was passing by. 

Stepping into the bar, the atmosphere changed. The dull lighting, the smell of cigarettes and booze and the drunk men sitting at the counter aimlessly hitting on the bartender. 

“Hey you” the woman behind the counter smiled at him, “your usual?” Luke just nodded, feeling a bit shameful that he had visited so frequently that he now had a usual. She slid a glass over to him, “let me know if you need anything else hun” he mumbled a thanks before picking up the glass. 

Okay just one drink and then I'm going home

He thought to himself before downing the contents of the glass. The woman behind the bar, whose name tag he’s now reading for the first time despite being there so often, came back over to him. 

“One more or you’re heading out ?” she asked him 

“Just bring the bottle over Sherry” he mumbled, she nodded before going to get the bottle

Luke’s head hung low, he poured glass after glass until the bottle was empty. He wasn’t sure what time it was but he couldn't bring himself to get up and leave the bar. “Sherry?” he called out to her, before lifting his head to find an empty bar with Sherry at the other end. 

“We’re closing in 10 minutes sweetheart, do you need something ?” 

“Could I get one more ?” 

“I can’t serve you anymore sugar, bar’s closed. I can get you something to eat if you’d like?” she offered him, he shook his head. 

“I’m gonna head out” he fumbled through his pockets, pulling out some crinkled bills and tossing them on the counter. 

“I could call a cab if you want ?” 

“I’m okay, thank you” he smiled at her before pushing himself up off the bar stool. He stumbled but caught himself on the edge of the bar, he headed out and took a deep breath of air. It was cold but not freezing, he wasn’t that cold considering how much alcohol he had just drank. He stumbled down the street, his hand against the wall to steady himself. 

Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

A woman walked past him, she seemed oddly familiar. Maybe it was her perfume, or perhaps the way she walked, but she reminded him of someone he held close so many years ago. 

With his back up against the wall, he fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. The light from his screen was quite literally blinding him because of how bright it was. 

Her number was still there. 

After so many years, it was still there. 

Here's the thing about her, she loved Luke and Luke loved her but they never told each other that. They lost contact after he deployed but little did she know, but he thought about her all the time. When he finally got to lay down, when it was his birthday, whenever the holidays rolled around, 

his mind wandered back to her. 

When Luke returned home, he got a new phone, a different number but he somehow got to keep everything on his phone. Her number happened to be in there. 

Now he wasn’t even sure if she had the same number or if she’d even pick up. All these things crossed his mind before hitting the green button. 

Ring 

Ring 

Rin-

“Hello ?” her voice filled his ear. 

“Y/n” he whispered 

“Who’s this ?” she asked��

“Don’t tell me you forgot about me after you just walked past me princesa” 

Then and only then, did she realize who was on the other end of the call. 

“Luke ?” 

“Hi” 

“Are you okay ? Where are you ?” 

“Uh..” Luke looked around, before answering her “Main and Park, but you know that. You just walked past me” 

“What ? I’m at home” 

“No no I just saw you, y/n” 

“Luke, stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.” 

Luke didn't object, he was rather excited to see her. Luke could feel the sleepiness start to set in, he braced himself against the cold brick wall in hopes that it would wake him up. 

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of a horn startled him. His eyes snapped up to see a woman getting out her car, he blinked a few times to see y/n making her way over to him. She stood a few feet from him, she wore a pair of sweatpants and a paint covered t-shirt. She hadn’t changed one bit, she was still as beautiful as she was the day he left.

“Hi Luke” 

“Hi y/n” 

He stepped towards her, she mirrored his actions. Luke’s arms stretched out towards her before she finally closed the gap between them. 

God, it felt so good to have her back in his arms. 

“Luke, no offence but you literally reek of liquor” she stepped away from him. 

“Oh” he pouted

“Let's get you home” her arm looped around his waist helping him walk to her car. Luke stumbled his way into her car, managing to make himself comfortable for the time being. 

“What’s your address ?” she looked over at him

“Dunno” he replied 

“Can I borrow your phone ?” 

“Mhm hm” 

She reached over to get his phone, he grabbed her hand and started to fidget with her fingers and the rings on them. She ended up picking up his phone with her other hand and scrolled through to find his address. The drive to his place was short, Luke still fidgeting with the rings on her hand. 

“Alright, in we go” she got out and helped him out of the car. Luke fumbled with his keys before she took them and unlocked the door. 

The apartment was.. sad. 

There was a bed and the tv on the floor but other than that, it was empty. “Home sweet home” Luke stumbled his way to his bed, y/n shut the door before making her way over to Luke who was laying face down on his bed. Rolling him onto his back, he sat up. 

“I’m hungry and my feet hurt” he mumbled right as he fell back against his pillows.

“Take off your shoes and I'll find something for you to eat” 

You left Luke on his bed as you headed to find something in his empty kitchen. There was a loaf of bread on the counter and some stuff in the fridge that you could put a sandwich together for him. Just the smell of him alone told you he had a lot to drink and you knew he’d be sick if he doesn't eat. 

Luke’s footsteps filled your ears until you felt his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “Heyyy” he hummed with his chin on your shoulder. “Hey,” you put the sandwich together for him, his hands rubbed your hips.“Come eat” you turned and handed him the plate, he sat on the floor in front of the tv and you made your way over with a glass of water for him. 

Luke laughed along at the joke Spongebob made in the show, you smiled at him. He finished and left the plate and glass on the floor. 

Men, I tell you.

Luke made his way back to his bed, “stay with me?” he looked at you from the bed, scooting over and making space for you.

You never could say no to him. 

Luke rested his head on your stomach and pulled your hand to his hair, you chuckled. Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly as you went, a satisfied hum left his mouth. 

“I didn't forget about you” he mumbled, he was half asleep so you didn’t pay much attention to his babbling. “I always remembered you. You got me home princesa” you listened to him talk. 

The steadiness in his breathing told you that he was asleep, you shifted his head onto his pillow making him groan. Your weight lifted off the bed and Luke’s eyes opened slightly before a small “stay” left his mouth. “I’m just going to the bathroom” you pushed his hair from his forehead before walking to the plate and glass Luke left. You picked them up before putting the glass in the sink, the plate was in your hand when you opened the trash can. 

There was at least a case worth of empty beer cans and a bottle or two of scotch in the trash. Your eyes shifted over to Luke who was peacefully sleeping in his bed. 

Maybe he just had friends over.

You brushed off the thought of Luke having an actual issue but the feeling of guilt hit you. 

What if something was actually wrong ? He was drunk on a Tuesday night and he didn't even realize it wasn’t you that walked past him. 

You made your way back to bed, you sat beside Luke who rolled over to you. His hair had grown out a bit, his curls were starting to show again and he looked so peaceful and so innocent right now, just like how he did when you had first met him. You could never even begin to imagine what he went through when he was away. 

Your fingers ran through his hair as he slept, your glaze focused out the window thinking about Luke and everything that had happened to bring you back to him. 

Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

Something rested on his chest, his head was pounding. Luke barely moved enough to see the head of hair on his chest. His hands found the person’s shoulders, he couldn't remember if he had bought someone home from the bar last night. 

“Hey, wake up” Luke shook the person gently, not wanting to scare her. “mhm no” she groaned, clinging to his side. Her voice seemed so familiar to him, he shook her again. 

“c’mon, don't you have somewhere to be?” 

“ugh okay, I'm up” the woman groaned, finally sitting up. 

Luke took a moment to look at the woman sitting in front of him, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. 

It was y/n 

“Y/n ?” Luke had a confused expression on his face. “Morning sleepyhead” you replied, laying back beside him. 

“Wha- how did you get here?”

“You called me last night, I picked you up and drove you home. You were drunk, do you not remember ?” you glanced at him 

The memories of his half asleep confessions of never forgetting you flooded your mind. You chose not to mention anything simply because if he didn't remember calling you, he surely wouldn’t remember saying that. 

Luke shook his head before getting up. “God, I have a horrible headache” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I got it” you got up and walked to the kitchen. “Which cupboard has the Tylenol ?” you reached for a cupboard door and went to open it. By the time Luke had looked to see which cupboard was opened, you took a step back. 

The cupboard was filled to the brim with liquor, you turned and looked at Luke. “What’s going on Luke ?” he pushed the door closed, “nothing’s happening” you didn’t believe him. You knew Luke better than that, he barely drank but you couldn't blame him or jump to conclusions. You didn't know if he was going through something. 

“You should go” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

“Luke..” 

“Y/n, please.. just go” 

You looked at him, his back was turned towards you. Opening your mouth to say something, you changed your mind last minute and made your way to the door. You looked at your friend one last time, 

“I'm here if you need me Luke” was the last thing you said to him before leaving. 

Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

8 missed calls and 7 missed text messages from Luke. 

From Luke: hi 

From Luke: mis yo

From Luke: y/n

From Luke: r u mad

From Luke: no be mad

From Luke: hell0

From Luke: y yu not ansrweing 

The spelling got progressively worse as they came in and he didn’t leave any voicemails, you decided to call him back. The line rang out, you got his voicemail, “Luke, it’s y/n. it’s 8:58 and I'm leaving work now, I got your texts and calls. I’m coming over to check on you. Text me so I know you're okay and I won’t come, okay ? bye” 

Your fingers tapped against the wheel as you drove to Luke’s place, every possible situation running through your mind. The last few weeks had been good, he called the day after he kicked you out to apologize, you invited him over to your place and made dinner. The two of you talked and he told you about his time in Iraq. You knew he hadn’t told you everything and you knew he wouldn't, but pushing him to talk wasn't going to do any good. 

Luke quit drinking, well at least for the last week and a half. He didn’t want to go cold turkey, and you didn't blame him, you sat with him, stayed up and talked with him, went for walks with him in the middle of the night just to distract him. 

You knocked on the front door when you arrived, no answer. “Luke ? it’s me!” you knocked again, no answer. The mailbox sat on the wall beside the door, you stuck your hand in and felt around, you pulled out a key and unlocked the door. 

“Hun? Are you home?” you called out, shutting the door and making your way further into the house. Luke’s head rested on the armrest of his couch, his hair all of the place. “Luke ?” you called once more before making your way over to him. He was asleep, two empty bottles of vodka on the floor in front of him. You sighed, your hand rested on his cheek. 

Things had been going so well, what happened ? 

“Wake up” you shook his shoulder, Luke stirred and rolled the other way, his back now facing you. “Luke get up” you shook him again, he groaned and ignored your pleas to wake up. You were starting to lose your patience, you shook him once more, he would not wake up. Deciding to leave him be, you picked up the bottles and threw them in the trash before making your way to the bathroom. 

An empty pill bottle sat on the counter, the label read temazepam in bold letters.

Sleeping pills. 

The bottle fell from your hand as fast as you had picked it up. You needed to wake Luke up now. You couldn’t believe he took them and drank, you knew he knew better than that, why did he do that? 

“Luke,” you pulled on his arm to try and get him to sit up. “Get up honey, you can’t sleep right now” you tapped his cheek hard enough to wake up but not hurt him. “Luke c’mon, please get up” you tugged on his shirt and sat him up. His back now against the backrest, he’s still asleep. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, what the hell are you going to do ? if you called 911, they would most definitely put him in a rehab program and he would never forgive you for letting that happen. 

The light from the window shined through, hitting the sink faucet, the glare catching your eye. You tumbled through the cupboard to find the biggest bowl you could and filled it to the brim with cold water. You rushed back over to Luke, not caring if it spilt all over the floor.

This better work. 

You poured the water on Luke’s chest, hoping the coldness would startle him awake. You now realized that wasn’t the smartest plan as it could have ended in his body freaking out over the sudden coldness and causing an entirely different outcome but you couldn’t bother right now. Luke’s eyes were open, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You tapped his cheek a few times to coax him out of his sleepiness. 

“Luke, honey, come on” you called out to him while helping him stand up. He started to come to, “y/n what are you doing here?” he mumbled. “You called me Luke, I found you asleep and you drank after you took your pills” you told him, dragging him to the bathroom with you. Letting him down in front of the toilet, you sat beside him, his head leaning back on your chest. 

“Come on, you need to throw up” you rubbed his back, he groaned “no” he mumbled, “don’t wanna” his eyes began to shut again. You pinched his arm in an attempt to keep him awake. You knew there was no way to get him to throw up on his own, you leaned him forward towards the toilet and did the only thing you could think of. You stuck 2 fingers in his mouth, reaching as far back as you could until you heard him gag. Luke ended up emptying the contents of his stomach all over your hand, floor and toilet. 

Luke leaned against the tub, you washed your hand off. Grabbing the towel from behind the door, you soaked it in cold water before pressing it to his head. 

“Why ?” you asked

“Hm?” Luke looked at you 

“You mixed your stuff, I know you know better. Why ?” you asked again 

“I just wanted it to stop” he leans his head against your chest. 

“For what to stop ?” 

“The voices” 

“Which ones ?” 

“The ones taunting me, I couldn't save everyone and they won’t let it go” he rubbed the side of his head. 

You didn't say anything and helped him up. Luke wobbly made his way to bed, you helped him change his clothes before getting a glass of water for him to drink. You sat beside him on the bed while he sipped on the water. “You know you can talk to me ? Right ? About anything. I know I won’t always get it but I'm here if you need to get it off your chest” 

Luke didn’t say anything to you, his eyes focusing on something other than you.  Resting your hand on his chin to pull his focus on you, he pushed your hand away roughly. “What’s wrong with you?” you asked, Luke had an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Luke what’s-” Luke’s yelling cut you off. 

“You think I didn't try to talk to you? God y/n, I tried so hard, so fucking hard. Every time I find the courage, I lose it because of you.” Luke’s expression had changed completely, you were able to see the sadness all over his face. 

“I couldn’t talk to you y/n, I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about this. I didn’t- I never wanted you to see me this way.. and I'm sorry that you had too” 

Your heart broke, your best friend sat in front of you with his heart on his sleeve and his feelings out in the open, you reached up and your hand cupped his face. “Luke, I understand okay? I would never focus you to tell me if you weren't comfortable” you told him and he nodded. He got up off the bed and went to his closet, you watched as he reached up and grabbed a box. 

Luke returned to the bed and placed the box between the two of you. Glancing at the box and then at Luke, you waited for an explanation. “These are from all the times I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t” he lifted the lid off the box, there were at least 50 envelopes in the box addressed to you.

“I thought about you every day I was there y/n, I never forgot about you but I couldn't do that to you.” Luke whispered, his eyes focused on you. 

“Do what to me ?” you asked, your eyes on the box. 

“I didn’t send these because I knew you’d wait for me and I wouldn't let you put your life on hold for me” 

You reached for his hand, “I'd always wait for you Luke, always.” 

Luke pulled away his hand, “no. no, stop.” Your brows furrowed, “stop ?” you questioned him, “don’t wait for me. Y/n, this is the reason I didn't send them, I don't want you to wait for me.” 

“Luke, what the hell are you talking about ? it was my choice” you rebutted, earning you an annoyed look and a groan.

“Just leave” Luke looked away, avoiding your eyes, not wanting to see the heartbreak he’s caused. 

“Seriously ?” you scoffed, “you know what? This isn’t even worth it. You clearly can’t make up your mind Luke.” you stormed out, slamming the door on your way out. 

And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I

It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time

I haven't found all I was hopin' to find

The window was left open overnight, a cold breeze blew through his bedroom. Luke groaned and rolled over to the other side of the bed, his arm stretched over the left side of the bed, the side of the bed where you’re supposed to be. 

His phone screen lit up, the light catching his eye. It was 5:27 in the morning, most of his night had been spent tossing and turning, rethinking the events of last night. 

The phone buzzed a few times, Luke picked it up to see messages from you. 

To Luke: I don’t know why I'm even texting, I suppose for some sort of self closure but you need to know this and if I call you, you’re just going to interrupt me. 

To Luke: I didn’t wait for you. 

To Luke: I wanted to, but I didn't. I found someone else, his name was James and he was so sweet and loving and everything I could have ever wanted in a partner. 

To Luke: Do you know what the problem was Luke ? 

To Luke: He wasn’t you. 

To Luke: After James, I promised myself the I would wait for you because you’re the only one for me 

To Luke: But it’s clear you don't want the same things as me, so that’s fine. I understand. 

To Luke: Goodbye Luke. 

Luke’s heart felt as if it dropped to his stomach after reading that. 

I was the only one for her ? God, what did I do to her last night. 

He did the only thing he could think of, he got up and headed over to your place. See the thing was, Luke had no idea where you lived. He didn't know if you moved or if you were still where you were before he deployed but he thought, at least he would be trying. 

When he arrived at the door, he knocked once but there was no answer, so he knocked again, and again, no answer. Luke began banging on the door, “y/n, please. it’s me! Open the door” 

An older woman opened the door, she looked as if she had just woken up. “Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. I must have the wrong door” Luke said to her, she smiled sweetly at him. “That's alright dear, can I help you ?” she asked, he nodded. “Do you know the girl that lived here before you ? y/n?” 

“oh yes, she's very sweet. She stops in and checks on me” 

“Do you know where she lives now by any chance ?” 

“Uh, I don’t want to just give her address out to strangers dear” the older woman smiled at him. 

“Oh.. I understand. thank you anyways” Luke turned and headed back down the stairs. 

“Wait!” she called out to him, “Maple street, that’s all I can tell you” she said, Luke smiled at her, “Thank you” 

Luke ran down the stairs, and ran as fast he could to maple street. 

Fuck, why didn't I drive ? 

Luke walked down Maple street, his eyes looking over every driveway to find your car. There it was, 46 Maple street and you stood at your front door, your back to Luke. 

The rain began to pour out of nowhere, like a full on thunderstorm. You stepped back inside and Luke made his way across the street to your driveway. 

When you stepped back outside with your bag, Luke stood on your driveway. 

“What are you doing here ?” you asked him, he looked like a crazy person just standing on your driveway in the pouring rain. 

“You waited for me ?” he asked, his hand ran over his face to wipe the water off but it made no difference. You made your way down the steps, you stood across from Luke now. 

“I did” you answered him, you too, were now soaked from the rain. 

“I’m sorry” he told you

“For what ?” you asked, you knew why he apologized but you needed to hear him say it. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you last night. I shouldn't have acted the way I did.” he stepped closer to you. 

You watched Luke’s movements, his hands rested on your hips, his face inches away from yours. You’re absolutely sure that anyone who looked outside must think the two of you are out of your minds to be standing in the pouring rain, just having a conversation. You didn't say anything to Luke, you had already said what you needed too. 

“Y/n?” Luke looked down at you, you looked up at him, “Luke ?” 

“I love you.” his hand cupped your face, making you look at him. 

“Luke I..” you sighed, as much as you wanted to tell him you loved him, and you did, you weren't sure if you could, well you weren't sure if you should. 

“It's okay, you don't have to sa-” 

“Luke I love you” 

Luke’s expression changed, there was now a smile on his face. “God I love you so much” Luke picked you up and spun you around, making you laugh as you clung onto him. 

“Luke put me down!” 

Luke set you back on your two feet, this time, your hand came up to his face and he looked at you. 

“I need you to promise me something Luke” 

“Anything” 

“Promise me you’ll try and quit, I know it’s hard but I promise I'll be by your side” 

Luke nodded, “I promise, only if you promise to stick with me” 

You stuck your pinky out, Luke chuckled and wrapped his pinky around you. 

“always Luke, always.” 

---- 

taglist: @aaronhotchnerr​ @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @tclaerh​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @katexrichardson​ @thelukealvez​ @sluttytears​ @scandinavian-punk​ @haleymalaffey​ @rosesonmyheart​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​

[bumackerman]

DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

[asuka--langley--soryu]

along the same lines as the last anon, do you know any good sources for meta/symbolism/essays about revolutionary girl utena? i just finished it and fell in love - i want to understand it as much as evangelion.

im certainly not as well versed in utena meta as eva but I have some sources. happy to hear you liked it! its one of my fav shows ever and I think its genuinely such a fucking masterpiece. 

first off I will say one of the best ways to improve your understanding of utena is to rewatch it lol. rewatching after knowing about the world and anthy and the lore is incredibly rewarding and really helps add another layer and perspective to the show--its kind of like watching it with entirely new eyes tbh. last week i finished my third rewatch and was still making new observations/connections. at the very least rewatch at leaaaast once at some point its so worth it I promise <33

if you havent already i would say take a look at the dvd commentary from ikuhara for each episode. It doesnt always clarify anything but sometimes theyre insightful or give a bit of background and sometimes theyre just kind of fun. hes like a big weirdo but yknow it is interesting to read his thoughts

as far as I know ohtori.nu is like the best resource for most utena related things? they have tons of essays on there as well as a good archive of official images/interviews/transcripts. probably this is the best place to start regarding meta and analysis. some caveats: a) the site is pretty old and can be a little janky/hard to navigate b) the essays are fan written and idk what the curation process was or if there even was any, so explore w a grain of salt. 

this blog (allegory-allegorier-allegoriest) rbs/archives a lot of meta posts so might be worth scrolling through. And I would def recommend checking out kurapikawithagun ‘s  rgu posts bc they are so so smart and insightful and really fucking get utena. they’re doing analysis posts for each episode, the first of which i’ll link here!

Lastly, I have three essays on Utena saved in my anime essay drive and i’ve separated them into their own folder. They’re mostly about rgu/magical girls and gender so ymmv there. if you do check them out and have any issues with access pls pls lmk and ill try to fix it!

hope this helps!! 

[itsoutrageouss]

feel this? ☾ din djarin

ONE SHOT

summary: You’re Dins fairly new travel companion on the crest, and the two of you still have a lot to learn about one another. You have always been bothered by vivid nightmares, something you fail to hide from the punctilious bounty hunter… 

pairing: din djarin x reader

word count: 3,9k

warnings: sleep deprivation/insomnia, angst

A/N: Hi! Just to be clear, this is definitely not to romanticize insomnia or nightmares (I suffer from it myself) it’s simply to show how important contact and feeling safe can be when you feel like this, and uh this is my first ‘official’ piece of writing with din so lmk what you think!

✰✰✰

Din subtly notices the way your energy fades as the days pass. At first he doesn’t think anything of it, you’re human and you get tired of course. But the way your words sometimes slur or don’t totally make sense; the way you blink with slow, heavy eyelids and the way your complexion is pale like porcelain makes him worry. It still isn’t enough for him to comment on it because he respects your boundaries the way that you have shown him you respect his, but he notes himself to keep an eye on you. More than usual, at least. 

You are heading back to Nevarro. All the collected bounties are proudly stocked in the carbonite and the foundling safe asleep. Din hasn’t talked since he threw the last and particularly loquacious quarry on board. You figure he’s exhausted, so you let him be in the cockpit as you go to the hull for occupation. Din has asked you to fix the heat sink and cooling radiator panels that seem to be faulting, so you might as well get to it now. As you make your way up the latter, you suddenly get a rippling flashback to last night.

Crawling up a wall, trying to escape. The images pierce through your mind, but you keep climbing, screwing your eyes shut tightly. Damn nightmares. Not only do they deprive you of a normal sleep schedule (which the kid does not help with), but you spend so much daytime thinking about them too that you are absolutely drained mentally and physically. You keep chanting how it’s gonna pass like it always does, but it doesn’t seem to do it.

There are only two sliding doors between you and The Mandalorian, and you make sure he hears you come up the latter so you don’t startle him somehow, and silently let him know what you’re doing. Hair drapes over your face, so you automatically gather it and tuck it away in less than two seconds; number one skill to have.

You begin to disperse the panels, laying out tools randomly and picking up different screws and components to get to the core problem. Your back is tense and rigid from the work, and you involuntarily feel your hands fumble and sweat as the metal parts slur in your palms, slipping out with loud clings against the silver floor. Another flashback of your hands slipping on the wall’s hot stone hinges in your recent nightmare makes you drop the wrench on your toe. Biting down on your teeth harshly you hold back a growl of pain, managing just to hiss like a Loth-cat. You blink rapidly down at the tools, but they still seem unclear and you can’t really remember their names. Instead of trying to keep going, you shamefully plop yourself onto the floor completely, letting your shoulders almost pop from their sockets in exhaustion. The biting cool metal wall hugs your burning skin, and you press into it impossibly tight to cool off. You keep looking at the parts sprinkled around you to remember what you are doing, but they swirl together and double until your eyes strain so much that you have to close them. Just a few minutes, is your excuse this time.

...

It has been approximately 15 minutes, Din thinks. He knows that you are trying not to disturb him and he appreciates it, because getting used to not only a child but another person on the ship everyday takes some time and space. But for some dumb reason he still finds himself hyper-aware of the fact that you are just pacing around or fixing something, and that makes him restless to get up. The pilot's chair creaks as he drags his tired body out of the cockpit, and he opens the door to where he last heard you going.

It takes him a second to understand what he’s seeing. The panels are open and exposed, different parts and tools scattered on the floor. And in between them you’re sitting against the wall with your eyes closed. You look pale, and your hair is disheveled around your shoulders. Sighing, he admits that he can’t keep avoiding the issue anymore. He stands awkwardly for a few more seconds, debating the best thing to do. He wants to let you sleep, that is his first priority, but he can’t have you sitting on the floor or leaving the panels wide open. So he decides to stand just a little longer as still as an actual beskar statue, and before he can make a better plan you are moving uncomfortably and kicking a few tools accidentally. His head snaps to you as your hands drop the components they were holding. “Fuck” you groan, your neck sore from the position against the wall, heart racing at the stabbing sound of metal against metal. Your eyes are heavy as they drag across the unfinished work on the floor, leading to a pair of boots. You slowly look up to the T of a visor that is burning into your skin.

 “Are you sick?” He asks, before you can open your mouth, which is completely dry. You wipe your forehead with your shirt, scrambling to your knees to continue the work. 

“Nope. Not sick. Just tired” you huff,  waving the tools around to seem casual. “You’re not just tired” he states, sighing your name in frustration when you don’t as much as gaze his way. “You can sleep in the hull if that’s better, '' he tries, still looking down at you with a stiff stance. “S’ not the bed'' you mutter, trying to pick up where you left off. Din doesn’t want to play a guessing game right now, his patience wearing thin over these past few days. So he just leans against the wall, his arms crossed daringly across his beskar covered chest. You feel his visor burn into your side, and you close your eyes instead of rolling them. “It’s just nightmares'' you admit, trying to shrug it off  “It will pass” 

“If that was true you wouldn’t be falling asleep every second there’s silence” that is the longest sentence you’ve heard from him in a while, and it isn’t exactly softly said. You just scoff at him “It’s not your problem Din, it’s mine” you glare at him with a frown, your tired eyes narrowing from his helmet and back down to the panels.  

But he won’t give up so easily now that he’s got you on the hook. He’s still trying to get a taste of how you two communicate together, and his responses aren’t always the best, he knows that. But you also know how hard he’s trying.

“It is my problem because it’s affecting your work” his static voice comes through, still not particularly gentle. This isn’t how he wanted things to go. “Well I’m sorry but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. Right now you’re the one affecting my work Mando” you bite back, your head shielded from his sight by the panels, to your advantage because warm tears are silently prickling the corners of your eyes. He’s silent as usual, standing so still that you think maybe he’s the one sleeping. Until he sighs again in discontentment and leaves. So much for confrontation.

Now he knows, at least. Knows that it isn't him or the ship that causes your sleep deprivation. But you only feel more frustrated with this; You have failed to keep it to yourself and managed to let it interfere with your work, which is the last thing you want. You have to do something about this problem, but how do you just stop nightmares like that? Sleeping in a new place, constantly on new planets with new people is too much ‘new’ and you can’t do much until you finally feel settled in this lovely wreck you call a home now. And you know that this frustration and stress is only going to pile on and infiltrate into your sleepless nights. Almost automatically your hand fists and punches the panel in front of you, feeling the dull ache like lightning from your knuckle to your shoulder, muscles rippling in pain. You are sure Din hears it, and you’re already prepared to say that you dropped the wrench or something, because you just can’t handle more of his disappointed sighs today. Rolling on those 15 minutes of sleep you finish the work hurriedly, now with an injured hand.

…

You are bored as fuck. Din and you haven’t spoken since the incident, just lulling around each other in silence. It’s tense. Usually it’s a comfortable silence you find yourself in, because you know that’s just his typical exterior and way of communicating. But now you know there is a reason why he’s brooding and averting, and the feeling is mutual; It’s easier to let it hang in the air, despite the heavy feeling on your shoulders. 

Your hands roam the food stash, your arms fully swallowed by the cabinet. You’re running low, but there’s still a couple of silver cans left. You haven’t dared to ask Din how far from Nevarro you are, so you just put one can out for him and one for you. He isn’t around, so you place the can between your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your teeth as you bite down on the cool metal. Quickly you drag yourself up the latter, and place the can with a spoon outside the door of the cockpit. Right there on the floor, like a fucking gift or something. You curse at your own feverishness, fingers flexing in a rhythm.

Why are you suddenly so uncomfortable? You don’t even dare to knock on the door anymore. Usually you aren’t scared to confront and push Din’s buttons, almost excited to test the tin-bucket man's limits when you can’t physically see them on his face. You decide to just leave the food there, taking your own can and snuggling into the little bed of yours. It’s crammed into a small storage room that Din has cleared out for you despite your protesting about the floor being fine on it’s own.

Din hears you crawl up the ladder, but then your sounds -that he knows so well- disappears. He can always hear you: the way you breathe, the way your clothes sound when you move, the way you walk and talk. It’s not intentional, but he can probably pick you out of a crowd of a million just by the sound of your existence. 

For a minute he thinks you might’ve fallen asleep again, and he unwillingly turns to leave the cockpit. He almost steps on whatever is in front of the door, eyes darting around with no aim. He picks up the silver can, staring at it for way too long. Are you scared to be in the same room as him? Are you mad? You’re probably mad, he figures. That wasn’t a tool that landed on the floor earlier, he has punched the wall too many times and immediately recognized the sound- as always. 

He guesses you’re asleep by now, the child as well.

…

And you are, but you’re running. In the middle of nothing, but it feels like everything. Dirt, or sand under your feet you can’t tell. Your head is aching with the voice of someone you can’t recognize. They keep telling you to run, chanting it like a curse, so you do. And something is behind you. It’s loud and fierce, and right there. And you’re too scared to crane your neck backwards to catch a glimpse of it. It never seems to get any closer or any further, as you keep running. The wall is there again, the one you have to climb. And it hurts to climb it, it’s too hot and too long and too slippery. Your hair plasters to your glistening neck, your clothes stiff and scratchy as you grab the stones that stick out on the wall. The stones are covered in ridges and holes, the crookedness making it a thousand times harder to get a hold of them. All your senses are sharpened yet everything is blurry and out of reach as you grab the stones in panic. But your hand slips right at the very top. Your feet are aching, and you watch in slow motion as your hand lets go of the last stone. Feel the rush of adrenaline spike as you fall down, down, down.

“Wake up!”

Din’s voice is desperate, even through the helmet's moderations you can vaguely hear it. He was just about to go to bed, and he heard you rustling on your thin mattress. Before he could consider anything you were screaming, loud and terrified. It echoed between the steel walls, and his heart immediately jumped in fear as he pressed the button to the door.

You are writhing on the floor, legs tangled in the blankets, chest heaving and hands grasping for nothing. His hands shake your shoulders roughly, but stops immediately when you open your eyes wide and alarmed, as you snap forward into a sitting position. You pull your knees up, looking like someone that’s just been punched in the gut. Your breaths are erratic between stuttering cries, and Din can barely recognize your otherwise so familiar sound. 

“Hey” Din keeps repeating, trying to make you feel some sort of grounding. His hand is tight on your arm, the other one caressing your back as you feel your shirt rubbing your skin. “Just a bad dream” you hear him assure you. But sound dazes in and out, battling with your heartbeat and the rush of blood. You gulp loudly, your breath evening out slowly in the pitch black cargo room. 

“Feel this?” His voice is a low rumble but calming, and you feel his hand press tighter to your back. You nod, still gasping as not to cry out again. “Focus on that” his hand keeps rubbing your back, rough but not uncomfortably, just enough for you to be unable to focus on much else. And you do as he says, following his commands blindly while still being half asleep. You focus on his hand. The feeling of the cloth against your back. The feeling of his thumb over your spine. You sit like that for a while. You can’t tell what’s what anymore, the silence and darkness warping time and dimension in your brain. What is the wall and what is the bed, what is you and what is him. But you can’t remember much after that. Din says something else, you can only hear the tone in his voice as something like worry or guilt, as your eyes become one with the darkness again. 

…

You don’t wanna leave the storage. It’s too embarrassing considering what happened last night. You get ready, pulling the sheets neatly around your small mattress, sorting out your things. You do everything until you can't possibly procrastinate any longer. The light makes your brain hurt, eyes shutting from the dull ache of it. It’s much later than you thought, or maybe you’re just already on Nevarro. It seems like a sense of time is still missing in your mind.

You quickly find your first excuse of the day; The child. He isn’t asleep, you can hear his small coos, and spot two floppy ears swaying from side to side. “Hey chomp” you mutter, your voice stumbling over itself, being hoarse and weak. He makes the most adorable sound at the sight of you, and your hands envelop and embrace him tightly like you haven’t seen him in ages. 

“Hungry?” 

He shrieks excitedly at that word and you chuckle while roaming through the last bits of food. Before realizing it, you’re standing at the cockpit door again, your brain already working its new everyday routine. And it’s too late to turn around because a little green thumb presses the door open like it always does. “Thanks” you scowl and say through your teeth but the child just gives a high five to your side. Din turns around fast. So fast he might  fall out of the chair, and your feet stutter to a halt at that. His shoulders immediately slouch when he sees you, turning slowly back to the view of blue and white lights. Not at Nevarro yet, then.

You glare at the back of his shiny helmet that reflects the colors in a whirlwind. He doesn’t move his head but he looks relaxed, not rigid like you’d think.  The child coos once more and reaches with small grabby hands for the food “Yeah yeah give me a second chomp” you mutter, whispering almost in fear of your voice cracking or scaring him.

The food is a cream colored goo, and it doesn’t look particularly tasty but the little green womp rat eagerly swallows it down as you lead the spoon to his tiny mouth. “Did I forget to feed you or something?” You ask him, stroking his tiny soft hairs as you scrape the excess food on his face into his mouth. Din watches you carefully, his helmet tilted no more than needed to catch the sight. You’re completely oblivious of his presence, either because you’re tired or because the child is craving all your attention. That’s until Din says your name, softly this time, like you’d break if he said it too loud. You don’t reply, but he sees you straighten your back as a way of letting him know that you aren’t completely ignoring him. 

“I’m,” he pauses, looking for the right words as his hand taps his thigh gently “sorry I got angry at you,” he stutters and goes silent for so long that you think he was done. You part your lips to reply but Din adds a tiny “it’s not your fault” before you’re able to. Your eyes narrow slightly, automatically cradling the child as he begins to sound bored. You can’t muster the way his helmet is observing every single movement you do, “I don’t need pity, Din. It’s okay.” Your voice is exhausted, and your eyes smile so gently that he wouldn't see it if he didn’t look so intensely at them right now. You still feel embarrassed of the way he caught you last night, and you’re trying your hardest to make it seem like nothing, assuring him that everything is okay even though it isn’t. But you can’t fool him, you’ve never been able to.

…

It’s night time again, and you’re only one day from Nevarro. Or so you think, you're in space so you have no way of telling but the day has felt endlessly long, so you decide to put an end to it. The white noise of hyperspace is still somewhere far off as you enter the cargo room. The air is cool despite being the very same for days. You gulp, hands smoothing up and down the side of your thighs as a way to calm yourself. Good thoughts. It’s just the Crest. The Child. Din Djarin. You. Nothing bad about that, quite the opposite actually.

Chanting that in your head, you lie down, feeling your back touch the floor through the thin mat. The only sound you can hear now is your own breathing, deep and shaky as your nails make little crescent moons into the skin of your thighs. You force yourself to shut your eyes, closing the galaxy off for a bit. It’ll be morning soon, is your last thought before giving yourself into the feeling of nothingness.

Din can’t stop thinking about it. How he had said that it bothered him that you were tired, when it clearly is much worse for you. He can’t stop thinking about the way your body shook as he held it, as your voice sounded so weak and estranged when he heard you or the way he held you till you fell asleep. 

So he does the most rational thing his mind can muster, and sit outside your door. As simple as that; no further plan than sitting. His legs stretched out on the floor, his helmet leaning against the wall underneath the button to enter the room, his armor discarded and ungloved hands in his lap. Maybe it was that same protective thing that kicked in whenever anyone even looked at the child, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel just a little better, so he lets himself lull to sleep right there on the floor. 

That’s until his head bangs against the wall, metal on metal making a piercing sound. You’re screaming again. Or sobbing. Or both. His hand fumbles above his head for the button, and he almost throws himself into the room even before the door opens. Once again his quick reflexes come in handy. You are sitting up again, hunched over with your hands fisting the sheets and your hair draping your face wildly. He reaches out for you, but you violently flinch back at the sudden touch of someone you can’t see.

“It’s me. It’s Din” he assures, his hand suspended mid air, eager to comfort. You want to tell him to leave, that it’s okay but your throat is dry again and you’re too vulnerable to hide the fact that a part of you wants him to stay. A soft touch on your shoulder, so fragile underneath his coarse skin. “Lay down” he whispers.

Din is trying to be intuitive. He’s never been in this situation before but he’s skilled at acting fast and keeping cool so it couldn’t go that bad, could it? The way he sees the pure fear in your dim eyes makes him lose that part of his brain slightly though. You once again do as he says, finding comfort in his deep rumbling voice as you lay down on the messed up sheets again, greeting the suffocating warmth. He closes the door, shielding the two of you from any harm. The ‘mattress’ is barely big enough for you, so he settles on the floor again, right next to you. He stares to the ceiling, listening to your breathing as his head lulls in exhaustion. You hear him sigh again, but this time it doesn’t sound disappointed, more like he was feeling genuinely sorry for you. Your breathing doesn’t calm down the way he hoped.

“Hey” his helmet scrapes the floor as he turns his visor to you. Your throat is bopping and straining no to let out anymore cries, your eyes blinking rapidly in the dark. His hand envelops yours, his electric skin colder than your own. He’s only in his undershirt and pants, stripped as vulnerable as you feel right now. Your hand trembles in his but he grasps it tighter, inducing you to follow as he places it on his chest, pressing down firmly. “Feel this?” He asks again, and the repetitive question makes you feel at ease again. And you nod, not sure if he can see it. But he very much can, and doesn’t let go for a second. You feel the thrumming of his heart, letting it surge through your entire being. It’s beating faster than it should, but still slower than yours. “Focus” he whispers with a voice you have never heard before, so defenseless and tender. You nod again, closing your eyes shut to feel it clearer in your warm palm. Dunk Dunk, Dunk Dunk. The same rhythm in a constant, so alive and so exposed. You forget everything around you. Everything other than Din, as he takes you under his wing, shielding you from the cruel galaxy. “I won’t leave, I promise”

[olreid]

[Transcript: The same thesis was expanded by Gowers, who portrayed migraine, faints, vagal attacks, vertigo, sleep-disorders, etc. as related to each other and to epilepsy -- all such nerve-storms being mutually if mysteriously transformable amongst themselves. End transcript]

hello friends, here to talk about tagging for migraine & epilepsy triggers again since some people have started doing that (ty!!) but lots haven't. essentially, for people who may not know, migraine and epilepsy are related - though separate - disorders in which triggers, including specific visual stimuli, produce extreme physical and neurological reactions that come on suddenly + can last for days and put you completely out of commission. for lots of people with migraine and/or epilepsy, day-to-day symptom management becomes a case of trying whenever possible to avoid specific triggers and therefore avoid the painful and scary symptoms they cause. those triggers vary from person to person, but some are more common than others, and in an online context most of the common ones have to do with high contrast content and moving images. more specifically, triggers might include flashing and flickering gifs, bright/neon colors, trippy patterns, and more. this post has some really good examples of what might be considered triggering in this context, altho obv don't click on it if that kind of thing is triggering for you.

i asked a while ago for mutuals to tag flashing gifs and eye strain, but then realized that i might not have given the best explanation of what that looks like, so hopefully this is a bit more helpful ! obviously if i don't follow you i guess this doesn't specifically apply but if you want to do a little thing that might make your content more accessible for ppl this could be big <3 also if you want to use other tags for this like migraine warning or epilepsy warning or something that works as well, just lmk whatever tag you're using so i can blacklist. a final note is that i understand that some people feel overwhelmed by trying to tag for lots of things or have focus/memory issues and know for whatever reason that they won't be able to tag for this consistently, which is totally fine -- in that case i'd prefer people just lmk so i can unfollow <3

i think that's all ! thx for reading, happy to answer questions about this or give more examples of triggering content if anyone needs.

[kkaebsongtypo]

01 | m.l | next

why wont you love me // hrj [02]

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, slight angst

wanings/notes: alcohol consumption (all parties are of legal age, drink responsibly!), mentions/symptoms of anxiety, mentions/signs of abandonment issues, jealousy, inspired by the song Why Won't You Love Me by 5sos

(warnings/notes are subject to change and updates if needed.)

word count: 2.1k

Renjun and y/n are an inseparable pair; they know each other like the back of their own hands. For the most part. Renjun keeps his true feelings hidden; y/n refuses to acknowledge their own. Both hold the fear of losing each other. But will one night out and a little too much to drink change everything?

a/n: hello part two is f i n a l l y here- sorry for the super long wait ;-; lmk if you want to be in a taglist ^-^

A week without Renjun and the boys proved to be a lot more difficult than you expected. On any other day, a normal day, you would have Renjun or Jisung on video call to keep you company whilst doing your work, cleaning the house, or just any other task. On any other day, you’d have a few of the boys lounging around your apartment, studying, doing project work, playing video games, spending their time in the comfort of your tidy home if they needed to get away from their own. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like you lived alone.

Needless to say, with your main group of friends away on their trip, you were bored. With the boys doing their own trip activities, it was hard to get a normal, lengthy video call in. Procrastination was one of your biggest enemies in the deafening silence of your empty apartment. Without the company of your friends occupying your phone, and your current lack of self control, you were sprawled out on your bed scrolling through Instagram, your essay long forgotten.

You sat up abruptly when you opened Renjun’s story and were greeted with a photo of him and a shorter girl wrapped in his arms. Your chest tightened and at their bright smiles. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the photo, the strange sensation in your chest growing. After a few seconds, you decided to close the app, the feeling (which, you concluded to be anxiety) building inside of you became overwhelming very quickly. You placed your phone face down on your bed and slowly laid back against the covers. You stared blankly at your ceiling and drummed your fingers on your bedsheets and chest.

A ding sounded from your phone and your hand flew to grab it. You hesitated to look at the screen though, unsure if you were hoping it was from Renjun or not. Ten seconds passed, and after a deep breath, you look at the message. A sigh fell from your lips when you read the contact name. It was from Jisung. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Renjun as the anxiety in your chest continued to swirl.

bby chick <3: Are you busy rn bby chick <3: Can u vc bby chick <3: I miss you :(

You felt a pang of guilt for feeling slightly disappointed as you read the younger boys messages. You truly did miss him as well. The situation prior to his messages simply threw you off and into a frenzy of other feelings. Your fingers typed a response quickly.

: I miss you too :( : and no I am not busy, call me <3

It took no longer than 5 seconds for a video call from Jisung to pop up. After a deep breath to push down the previous discomfort within you, you put on a small smile and answered the call. The sight of Jisung’s face lighting up instantly when you appeared on his screen made your smile become more real, the photo of Renjun and that girl being pushed aside for the time being.

“Hii y/n!!” Jisungs voice was lively and excited. The setting sun shone a warm glow on him and the hotel wall. He waved to you, and you waved back.

“Hey Sunggie, how are you doing?” You asked. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I’m good, the guys and I miss you tons though! How are you?” Your chest tightened when he returned the question. It always broke your facade at times like this.

“I’m- I’m uh… yeah, I’m good.” Your feeble attempt at seeming okay was unconvincing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks with each blink. The uncomfortable feeling in your chest returned and your breathing quickened. Though your vision was blurred, you noticed Jisung’s expression fall into one of shock and panic.

“Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He stuttered, reaching towards the camera as if trying to reach directly to you. You wiped your cheeks frantically with your sleeves and sniffled, a pathetic laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong, Ji, don’t worry-” Jisung cut you off gently. Tears continued to fall from your eyes involuntarily.

“Y/n… please don’t lie to me… you’re clearly not fine…” Your chest tightened more at the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like seeing you upset, it made him sad seeing his friend in distress. You tried to dry your tears again, but it was no use. With a quiet sigh of frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. There was no use in trying to lie again, your feelings were impossible to hide at this point.

“I- ugh. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really okay- I’m sorry.” You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at your apology.

“No!! Don’t be sorry!” He exclaimed. You glanced up at him and slouched further into yourself. Silence filled both of your rooms. You didn’t know what to say. You were embarrassed; your fear of being abandoned was consuming every bit of you with each passing second the longer you stayed in your head. Abandonment issues weren’t something you’ve ever talked about with any of your friends, there was never a reason to. Not until you saw that photo of Renjun.

The silence stayed for what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your own thoughts on a loop. No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that Renjun would never just drop you out of the blue, the anxiety just pushed back. Part of you says “he wouldn’t.” but the other part of you fights back with “but he could.” It was a never ending loop; spiraling into yourself with no end in sight. Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts with a question that caused your cheeks to burn with anxiety.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You chewed on your bottom lip and tried to sort your thoughts before speaking. Tears began forming in the corners of your eyes again and they fell down your still damp cheeks when you blinked.

“It’s- ahh. It’s just- that photo of Renjun and that girl. It’s like, stupid but I think it was just anxiety saying like ‘oh Renjun found someone new he doesn’t love me anymore’ kind of-” The string of words fell from you lips quickly and in a mess, your insecurities growing and getting the best of you. Your voice cracked and you sniffled before taking a shaky breath and rubbing your eyes, giving Jisung the opportunity to speak. He was hesitant at first, his voice wavering slightly; he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Hey- um- breathe for a second. Can you, uhm, can you show me the photo?” You nodded and picked up your phone to open Instagram. A feeling of dread grew in your chest and stomach as your finger hovered over Renjun’s story. With a deep sigh, you opened the story, the photo popping up on your screen. You stared at Renjun’s smile for a second before tapping on the small paper airplane icon and sending it to Jisung. You waited quietly as Jisung opened Instagram to see the image. You laid on your back and positioned your phone next to you so the boy could still see you when he returned to the call.

While you were swimming in your own variety of conclusions, Jisung stared at the photo you had just sent, unsure of his next words. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, knowing that he could potentially make you feel even worse in one way or another.

“Y/n- oh my goodness. Okay- that’s not- that’s like Renjun’s second cousin. We just met her today!” You stared at your ceiling as Jisung returned to the video call.

“I… are you serious? Oh my gosh.” You groaned, tears beginning to fall faster again. Jisung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, still hating to see you so upset.

“Yeah! Please don’t cry.” Jisung tried to comfort you as best as he could through a tiny screen. You sniffled and whipped the tears from your face, only for more to fall. He sighed softly, feeling slightly helpless.

“Look, even if that wasn’t his relative, I can assure you that all of us love you and we would never just up and leave you for anyone else. Renjun especially. y/n he…” He paused for a second, trying to pick his words cautiously to avoid exposing any secrets that weren’t his.

“You’re his best friend. He, of all people, would never, ever do that to you.” Your tears began to slow as you listened to Jisung, taking in everything he said. The external rationalization was reassuring, but the ache from the idea of losing Renjun continued to loom deep in your chest.

“I know that your anxiety clouds your judgement sometimes but if I can do anything to help at any time, please let me know.” He paused for a second, quickly realizing that you were keeping quiet.

“But if you can’t talk to me for whatever reason, try to remember what I just said.” You sighed softly. Jisung was really trying, and even though your thoughts continued to run wild, you were grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you, Ji. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for all that; it was just a huge scare about my best friend leaving me over what turned out to be nothing.” You rolled your eyes at yourself. You jumped to conclusions and got upset over a misunderstanding; you felt foolish. Jisung perked up and was quick to validate your feelings.

“Oh! No, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry for feeling.” He frowned at you and played with his fingers. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap. Silence lingered for a couple seconds before Jisung spoke up again.

“Um, okay. I’m sorry of this is a dumb question, but like- are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction..?” The question made you tilt your head and bring your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

“Uh? Yes? What do you mean?” Jisung turned away and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah like, I dunno. The use of best friend- I mean like, are you sure you aren’t like, jealous?” Jisung turned his head down slightly, looking up at you with a careful gaze, nibbling the inside of his lip. Your eyes widened and you blinked a few times. Your lips parted to speak and you raised your eyebrows, but the words got caught in your throat. Why is this so hard to answer? You furrowed your brows for a second, regaining your composure enough to form some sort of coherent sentence.

“Oh- well I mean I guess maybe?? But no. What?? He’s my best friend and he’ll always be my best friend.” You tripped over your words as they came out in a mess. Your heart sped up and your cheeks warmed slightly. What is happening?? Jisung furrowed his eyebrows and tugged at his fingers as words began falling from his lips.

“Right- I’m sorry-” He started to panic, but you cut him off softly before he could ramble an apology.

“It’s fine Jisung, don’t worry about it.” You sent him a small, half smile. He chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Without letting the guilt-filled silence linger, you sighed and clapped your hands together.

“Enough about this stuff. Tell me more about the trip, what have you been up to?” You smiled softly. Jisung looked at you hesitantly and you nodded; an attempt at reassuring him. He took a second and raised his eyebrows before breaking into a smile.

“Well, the day after we arrived we just sort of slept in, but in the afternoon we went into the city...” You smiled as enthusiasm filled his eyes again, but his voice became mere background noise as you got lost in your thoughts once more. Jisung’s previous question coming back and lingering in your mind; “are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction?”

Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more.

You did your best to shake it from consuming you, wanting to focus on Jisung instead. But the tiniest voice in the back of your mind repeated in a loop, Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more. Right?

Taglist: @lolibaaae @currentlyraisinghell

a/n: let me know if you want to be part of a tag list ^-^

disclaimer: updates will be stagnant. thank you for understanding :)

[thecomfywriter]

On Writing Eating Disorders...

@thecomfywriter (original post; remember to tag me or lmk if you want to repost it)

NOTE: Everything in this post is based off of my personal research, thoughts, opinions and experiences. 

If you or a loved one has an eating disorder, please seek help by letting a loved one know, or contact one of these resources. Take care of yourselves, lovelies. 

Toll-Free Number (NEDA):  1-800-931-2237 or text NEDA to 741741

Eating disorders are often misrepresented in the media, rather in being glorified, or romanticized, or flat out ignoring some types while claiming others are a choice. As a person who has recently recovered from an eating disorder, these representations can be incredibly harmful and add to the stigmatization of the serious mental illness. As a writer, I thought I’d give some pointers of what to do and what to avoid when writing eating disorders.

1) Do your research

There are many different types of eating disorders, each with different symptoms and different treatment plans. It isn’t just anorexia nervosa, bulimia and binge eating disorder (although this one is also not handled much or not properly). Here’s a list of eating disorders and their basic definitions. 

TRIGGER WARNING:

Anorexia Nervosa: officially defined as the ed with dramatic weight loss or an aim for a weight below the healthy amount for age and height. characterized by extreme restriction in food, types of food and calories. 

Bulimia Nervosa: subtype of anorexia involving a purging method in order to maintain low weight or dramatically lose weight. Purging can include extreme/obsessive exercise, vomiting, and/or use of laxatives. 

Binge-Eating Disorder: reoccurring episodes of eating large quantities of food followed by shame or discomfort. Typically, these episodes are performed in secret, and include a feeling of lack of control. Binge eating disorder is not overeating once. It is a very serious and life threatening disorder where the sufferer feels a lack of control in eating to a point of discomfort repeatedly. 

OFSED: encompasses individuals who don’t meet the specific guidelines for the other types of eating disorders but still engage in disordered eating behaviors. Includes frequent binge eating episodes and possibly purging episodes, body image issues (may include body dysmorphia), frequent dieting behaviours, restriction, “burn off” calories consumed, etc. 

Orthorexia: included in OFSED, which is defined as an unhealthy obsession with eating healthy/clean to the point of disorder eating and restrictive behaviors. Often shares symptoms with bulimia nervosa (burning off calories through exercise) or anorexia (needing to eat clean/vegan/organic/etc.) Individuals may express body image issues through their desire to be “lean” or “skinny”

ARFID: known as the Selective Eating Disorder, involving limitations to types of food or amount of food consumed without the distress of body image or fears of fatness.

NOTE: these are general terms and definitions. I want to make clear that eating disorders do NOT have a body type or “look”, which brings me to point two. 

2) Eating disorders do not have a “type” or “look”

We see this a lot. The anorexic girl is stick thin, dainty and pretty. The bulimic is probably thin too. The binge eater is fat. 

It’s not that general. 

I was anorexic long before I was skinny. Some anorexics never become skinny. Most people with restrictive eating disorders are actually on the ‘average’ to ‘higher’ end of the scale. Just because someone has a specific weight, that doesn’t mean they don’t have a mental illness. That’s not how mental illness’s work. They are mental meaning they are about what’s in your head, not how your body looks. 

If you’re writing an OC with an eating disorder, consider separating their body type from their eating disorder. Eating disorders are about the mental anguish and the overthinking and fear related to food. It’s an unhealthy relationship with food, not a weight or body type. Not only will you be representing ed’s better, it is actually a lot more interesting to read (the books I’ve read focusing on the mental pain of having an ed are wayy better than, omg I wanna be skinny but I can’t see that I already am. Not saying that body dysmorphia isn’t a thing. It 100% is. I have it. But it’s often oversimplified and almost mocked in media, which sucks ass).

3) Do not discriminate

First of all, there is a huge underrepresentation of men with eating disorders. NEWS FLASH: BOYS CAN HAVE EATING DISORDERS TOO 

This also goes for age. I personally know people who have eating disorders ranging from 6 years old (I know it’s sad) to in their late 40′s. Eating disorders do not discriminate based off age, nor sex, nor sexual orientation, nor race. 

There are black people with eating disorders. There are asians with eating disorders. There are south asians and latinos and hispanics with eating disorders. There are old people and young people, and boys and girls, and gays and straights with eating disorders. It’s not just the average white teenage girl. Take it from the indian recovered anorexic. 

Don’t be afraid, and honestly, please do consider adding diversity in your representation of eating disorders. Consider the cultural aspect of how the standards of each of these POC societies affect body image. 

An example of this is, in indian culture, people are very blunt. They also glorify weight loss, but don’t be too skinny either. It’s all about looking fertile, but heaven forbid you put on too much weight. This affected me so much when I went on vacation and met with family, and they all started commenting on my weight or pinching at my developing body. It was hurtful. It was even worse to hear them say I looked healthier because of my weight gain because for an anorexic, hearing ‘you look healthier’ is synonymous with ‘you look fat’. 

Also, the type of food per culture! Indian food is very healthy but also very dense, so it was my number one fear food when I still had my ed. 

Consider all of these things when adding representation, and ADD REPRESENTATION.

4) DO NOT GLORIFY or ROMANTICIZE EATING DISORDERS

I can’t say this enough. Please do NOT glorify or romanticize eating disorders. Often times, the anorexic girl is “dainty” and “pretty” with a “slim weight that you can hold in your hands”, or “is so beautiful but she just can’t see it”. 

BLEGH! VOMIT!  STOP! DO NOT DO THAT!

Every time I read that, a part of me dies inside. There is nothing aesthetic or dainty about having your bones show, or having such little weight on your body that you physically can never get warm, even after wearing four layers of clothing. There is nothing romantic or aesthetic about having your bones rub together every time you try to sleep or having joint pain at 17. There is nothing romantic or aesthetic about shaking in fear every time someone touches you because you are so scared of someone touching your body, or judgement, or discovering how sick you are. There is nothing aesthetic or romantic about eating disorders. Period. 

Please stop using language that makes an aesthetic out of eating disorders. Please stop describing it as if it is just a “dainty waist” or “tiny wrists,” because a) it implies only skinny people having eating disorders, and the skinny people with eating disorders are more brandable and “pretty”, whereas every other body type isn’t (WHICH ISN’T TRUE); and b) it adds a positive connotation, or almost makes eating disorders seem like a choice; like a diet gone wrong. 

Repeat after me: Eating disorders are NEVER a choice

5) STOP. WITH. THE. ROMANCE. SAVING. LOVE STORY. 

For some reason, most plots involving a person with an eating disorder (typically a pretty and skinny girl) involves a guy falling in love with her and saving her from herself, and being the reason she recovers. 

News flash! If love was the cure all for mental illness, my family would have saved me a long time ago. 

Mental illness is complicated. It’s debilitating. It steals your life away from you and it’s a long and gruesome process to try and recovery from it or learn to cope with it. I didn’t recover from my eating disorder ~through the power of l o v e~ 

My mom begged me with tears in her eyes for me to try harder and to eat properly. I yelled in her face. 

It’s a sad reality. There’s never a day in my life where I don’t regret doing that. But eating disorders change you. They can turn you sour. Starving is painful and it makes you cold. I wasn’t a kind loving person anymore. My family’s love wasn’t enticing enough for me to recover. The truth was, I was more scared of food and my eating disorder than I loved them. I hate admiting that, but its true. Which is why they couldn’t have been my reason to recover. 

It’s not the same for everyone. For some people, their family is the reaosn they recover. And I definently did try harder for my family too. But when I was in the deep, love wasn’t going to make me rational. It wasn’t going to cure me from my suffering. I was too busy pushing people away for that to happen. The sad reality of ed’s are that they ruin relationships a lot of the time. It takes a lot of resiliency to support a person with an ed because of how complex and difficult it is. 

I’m lucky my family did it for me. But I couldn’t expect that much from anyone beyond them. My recovery came from myself with the support of my family. I wasn’t saved by love. I was definently motivated by it, and supported by it, but that was only later. 

I’m sorry if this isn’t the happy truth you want to hear. I’m only speaking my own reality. Eating disorders are tragic. They have tragic consequences. Ultimately, some guy who is crushing on your OC, or who your OC is crushing on isn’t going to be the person who “saves them from their ed”. Your OC has to help themselves by reaching out to the people they love and to professionals for support. 

Don’t minimize the strength and bravery of a sufferer by making their mental illness disappear with love, because love is not a cure. Empower your readers by showing how your OC was strong enough to seek help, and what a big step it is towards taking care of themselves and recovery. 

This is just a general list. Sorry it’s so long. I can go more in detail if you guys want a part 2, or I can make more tip posts. Let me know if this helps. And if you know anyone or if you yourself are suffering from an eating disorder, please use your local resources. Tell a friend, a loved one. If anything, you can always message me on tumblr (@thecomfywriter) or insta (@tovwriter). I’ve been there, and I’ll always be here to support you guys <3

You deserve to recover and live a free and happy life. Recovery is possible. For you and your OC’s. Write a story that makes you feel powerful. 

Happy Writing <3

[kazbrekkerrs-remade]

ekrjhak i lov eu and to further enable you: ur thoughts on blue, gansey, ronan and adam and henry? and their group dynamic????? 👀👀👀

Wow this took me ages sorry dfjfhd. Claire... u enable me too much these are my onions <3. Under a cut because I went. overboard :3. I’m probably going to have to shorten this I don’t know if tumblr will even let me post something this long dkshjfhg. (Also I wrote half of this in word so if there’s proper capitalization in places that’s why, don’t let it cloud my image as a cool, laid-back bitch that doesn’t care for grammar.)

i’m starting individually then moving onto group dynamics heh

blue i like blue but it did take a bit of growing on me djjdjhjss. i like her a lot bc i relate to her a lot, but i do think there was a lot of room for improvement. she said she wanted to see the world and make it better but how exactly.. is that a roadtrip? i mean i guess it’s a start in a way, but i think it would’ve been much better if we saw her join an activist organization.. volunteer for a non-profit or something. Also her misguided feminism ah! But I can be a bit more lenient with that bc she was still very young when the series ended so. Also she was revealed to be part tree and then like. Nothing substantial came of it? idk

Ganseyboy! I have to be honest my.. fave uwu. There is a Lot of room for improvement  but I just. Optimist!! insecurities :( also he KNEW he was gonna d*e I’m. sad. Anyway like I said a lot of room for improvement as in like.. not everything is about you king <3 also he needs more… idk I don’t wanna say empathy bc i think that’s something different but like. He needs to realise that what he thinks is best isn’t gonna be the way everyone deals with something, if that makes sense? Like basically the “how do you know what’s good for me?” “THAT’S MY OPINIOOONNNNN!!” vine. THAT SAID I love him so much.. he held up the mouse to his face! And smiled!! mon dieu.. when he made bird jokes to make adam laugh… “am I in your dreams?” AH! In a way, blue and gansey are sons of the same gun: I love them both but there could be more done with them tbh. But I have a lot of fun with Fansey, a.k.a: fatima gansey. Kind of like fanon gansey except no one’s opinion matters besides mine <3 (basically it’s  the *aggressively kicks off shoes* “yee haw”, parts of gansey, and then me giving him the arc he deserves) maybe we could sum it up to “ma’am that’s my emotional support projection character” but like. That’s my business.

ADAM! Previous endorsements include: “might fuck around and become an adam parrish stan account.” “I’ve only had adam for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” “I go :D whenever I see it’s an adam chapter” (these are more or less verbatim from my previous posts.) that said, I don’t have many fully formed thoughts because I uhhh don’t remember the books that well and also I repress the adam chapters bc they hit too close oops :). tbh I don’t have many complaints at all heh. That’s not to say he doesn’t have flaws but a) I will excuse them because he’s justified, adam does anything problematique and I’m like he can have a little murder. As a treat. and b) I genuinely loved his arc so. No complaints for real!! Also.. adam realising he is capable of loving and being loved…. *kermit meme* I have nearly teared up while writing this. :( one more half baked thought: trc having being “known” as a mark of being loved but then adam being like “i am unknowable” and then there was a moment of him with ronan like “how foolish of him to think he was unknowable”.... *kermit hearts meme intensifies*

RONAN O CLOCK to be honest. I. don’t have any meta or complaints I just love him. I love him a LOT okay.. very much. Big love. Sharp edges tough guy but he names his dream animals chainsaw and gasoline and has a pooping blanket for chainsaw… I can’t remember the quote but that but in cdth where he was like the point is dreamer or not if people are going to get hurt I’m going to stop it… Much to think about. HIS GROWTH. IN THE DREAM THIEVES wow can you believe I read him in TRB and was like ‘I don’t care for him’ ddhfjdhf and then in the dream thieves I’m like.. I have rescinded all previous callouts of ronan lynch. Oops. HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS SO MUCH oh my gosh. Ronan just… he has so much range for feeling!! he feels so much!!! I love that about him so much omg

Henry. Ah. This is where we get kind of controversial jdhjdfh I’m sorry but. I’m going to be honest I like him well enough as a character but I don’t care for him much I’m sorry I just. It’s because he was introduced so late. And only became an important character towards like.. the last half of TRK? I mean, I’d have loved him if he was introduced earlier, hell at least have him come into play in BLLB. The issues I have with him isn’t because of anything about him as a character though, I think it’s all about the way he was handled. I think because he came in so late, there just wasn’t enough time to do justice to the depth that he had, or give him an arc or anything, or enough time to connect with him. Also a part of me feels like he was in there just to kind of tie up Blue and Gansey’s stories and give them something to do after the end of TRK (which sucks because like… making your only canon POC being primarily to develop/give your white characters storylines… (blue isn’t white in my mind but like she was written “colorblind” and when that happens it usually means the author viewed them as white at least in the beginning jhfhgfj. but i don’t remember it too well so if i’m wrong lmk please!)). But probably my biggest problem is: I couldn’t help get the vibe that MS was facing criticism for the lack of diversity and so decided to bring in an asian character. Like, I feel that way bc he came in so late, and because of that he was so half-baked I’m.. gah. GAH. That’s unfair maybe henry is a cool dude hdhfg but I just can’t warm up to him because of this :/

Group dynamics!! With the gangsey I have to *sobs* I love them so much I’m.. what a strange constellation they all were <3

blue and ronan!! BROnan amirite… omg. That moment when blue nearly slips and ronan immediately catches n holds on to her… she would have to remember that :( sons of the same gun. Best friends!

Blue and adam.. gah. As friends it really goes hard. Get you someone who will stab you if you fall too deep into the nether-realm <3 but uhh. As dates. YIKES. Blue really just. Kissed noah while dating him. And didn’t even think for a second “I have a bf” :( not very cool of her to tell gansey about the kiss curse but not telling adam which I mean, I know that happened to show that they weren’t a good match but. Still yikes. Blue was lowkey cheating on adam the whole time during tdt huh :( also bro I am number one stan of the “I wish you could be kissed jane” scene but it happened literally RIGHT AFTER she broke up with adam I’m. relax <3. I wish that was kind of addressed but meh, overall it doesn’t bother me too much. I think they’re great friends :)

Ronan and adam… I can’t talk about it too much. I really can’t!! I really really can’t! the fact that adam goes to gansey like what is love and gansey is like she makes me quiet… and then adam is like “he was so still inside”.. :( omg the bit during trb when ronan is going on a swearing tirade and adam is like “they didn’t start making the civic until ‘73 <3” what a JACKASS I love him. Second secret!! --okay! Wait I have to say: while this one is not really a big deal compared to all their other moments, my favourite quote is “ and he realised that while he’d been looking at ronan, ronan had been looking at him” :uwu face:

Blue and gansey: :3 :33333 maybe it’s the muslim but I really like the tragedy of not being able to kiss :( I would beg just one off you! Under all this! Maybe I’m crying because of the inherent romantic-ness of the night sky with all its stars and late night drives :( wow I love them. Also i know most people find it annoying but I personally love the “I’m never gonna fall for this person” *fast forward to getting to know each other* “ahahah. :) I have rescinded all callouts of ____. she is now my girlfriend (long story)” (not to be confused with enemies to lovers <3 (not to be confused with enemies to friends to lovers <3)) also they can kiss now thank you very much.

Okay I will just preface this with: gansey’s relationships with both ronan and adam have the “how do you know what’s good for me” element to them so I don’t have to address it later hdfgjlfj but bro they love each other so much I’m… “dream me the world… something new for ever night” you’re leaving for TWO DAYS.. gansey gave up monmouth omg what became of that I really forgot khffhk did he get it back. I don’t even need to elaborate on ronan, “ronan would do anything for gansey” :(

ADAM AND GANSEY I been WAITNG for this one! Turn it up! Bro if you saw the whole face I made when I realised it was time for this kdhfhfkhu this is so loaded despite the fact that I cant articulate it <3 the.. idk what to call them. Parallels? Foils? I didn’t take lit sorry but he RANGE we could have had there… remember when gansey was shocked in trk bc :0 you guys came with me and also “they had run for him”. bro their whole relationship had so much. Tension because of their different backgrounds and fundamentally different outlooks because of their backgrounds, and I think if we had seen them properly connect then both of them could have grown from that. I know we see adam understanding gansey a bit better I don’t remember when that happened but I know it did at some point hhdsf but gansey.. never does! Huff and puff. It’s really so FRUSTRATING to me bc that could have key development for gansey but also for adam and gansey’s relationship. And also I feel like we didn’t.. see them try either? Which is so frustrating like idk if it’s a fault on stiefvater’s part or just with YA lit in general that platonic relationships are kind of ignored. Or maybe it’s because idk I remember ms saying she had a lot of issues while writing trk.. but still. We could have really had it all but instead I have to live with “don’t break him adam” I’m (: ok but now I must lighten the mood hjsdhf so might I add: when one of them sees the principal in his crazy funky junky hat and goes “yee haw”… when gansey is like :DDD hey ADAM guess WHAT and adam is like ? and gansey is like oh it was a fully casual problem with the ALTERNATOR of my car of COURSE it was the alternator, it was really simple and I fixed it with much ease :D and adam is like :’D felt like the had hatched a baby bird.. my uwus. ADAM! give me an idea! ALSO if anyone will allow me to venture into adansey territory…. the fact that adam is cabeswater’s magician and gansey now.. is cabeswater in a way. MUCH to think about. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the dryad au the problem is I have never been to progress past the “vague concept” stage of stories and this is why I don’t write dhfjhfdhf. But yes. I think about it often :3

i also like the henry with the gang, i think it could work really well but once again it wasn’t given the time for me to really see it :( also. ronan being racist. and adam laughing along with that. why was that included, ms turn on your location i just wanna talk

okay once again thank you for enabling me claire and i’m so sorry for this monster dsjkhfjkdhg

[madiiko12]

new york’s very own madison ‘madi’ ko was spotted on broadway street in chanel sneakers . your resemblance to kim chungha is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-first birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being obsessive , but also ambitious . i guess being a virgo explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be glittery eyes, dangling earrings, & chanel draped in pearls.  ( cisfemale & she/her) + ( kale, 20 , she/her , est. )

hi honeybuns !! im back and with child. there is a brief mention of an ed under the cut but i block it off with a tw start & end.    if you’d like to plot pls leave a like and i can dm you or hit you up on discord !! my discord is kale#3079  

BACKSTORY

haneul madison ko was born september 18, 1999 to two immigrant parents from S.K. her birth name is haneul, but she went by the name madison since it was easier to pronounce + madi began to almost detest her culture??

it was just that growing up she would sometimes get bullied for looking different at her school, for the way her packed lunches smelled/looked, the way people would stare if she spoke korean to her parents, how other kids would make fun of her english since she didn’t pick up on vocab/grammar as quickly since she didn’t practice at home with her parents. she just became SO insecure about it that she rejected her culture. she wouldn’t bring her mom’s food to school, if her mom ever forced her to take it she’d throw it away  and choose to starve instead. she wouldn’t speak korean back to her parents in public, barely even in private (which reeaaallly upset her parents). this also REALLY destroyed her korean language skills. she can understand still, but she can barely hold a basic conversation anymore.

as she grew up, and continued this sense of distancing herself from her culture, she ultimately distanced herself from her family. which left her feeling -  - alone often, even though it was all due to her own choices. in this loneliness, she found her escape in music. she would wear headphones constantly through the halls, in car rides, in her room when her parents yelled at her to turn the music down. she just loved music. she saved up the money her parents gave her whenever she worked at the nail salon (her parents owned it!!) to thrift an old keyboard. she became self-taught by trying to copy melodies of songs she’d listen to, thrifting piano lesson books, staying after school with the music teacher learning to play. sometimes she’d even skip lunch to sit in the chorus room with her choir director and play.

it’s not that she had a LACK of friends growing up, maybe just that she lacked a best friend. she had a lot of friends, but no one that she felt so connected to in the way she felt connected to music. perhaps, she was addicted to her loneliness.

she spent a lot of time playing the piano and dabbling in writing music that her grades started to fall (not that she was ever the BEST student) and her parents literally took away her piano. they said it was a waste of time because they wanted her to focus on doing well, so she could get into a good university, and then live a good life. music was just a distraction

but that didnt work

she would sneak out into the city to go to concerts and poetry readings. she’d sneak out and go to indie songwriters scenes while her parents thought she was at the library with one of her school friends

This underground scene had her full heart!! she was surrounded by likeminded people who just lived for music. she was hearing all of these incredible people who were all looking for their start. maybe not looking for anything at than just to sing their songs. tbh i think this was the point she was happiest. she was completely enveloped in music, just for the sake of music. There wasn’t any pressure, just music. Just the songs. she was wide eyed looking at this whole underground scene of artists. So maybe some plots from these underground charas?!

she’d perform some songs at karaoke nights and the indie sessions, and a producer took a keen interest in one of her songs. basically im kind of stealing halsey’s career start, but she posted a song Came in Close on SoundCloud and just blew up overnight. in the morning, she woke up to a record label asking her to fly to LA for a meeting.

and thus, Madison Ko began a career as Madi Ko where she’d release her debut album, Honey, a few months later. (DISCOGRAPHY HERE). her music is very 80s synth inspired!

new album that is most definitely CRJ’S EMOTION is coming soon...

PERSONALITY

right off the bat, madi is an absolute firecracker!! she’s loud, bursting with personality, has a lack of inhibitions that CHAOTICALLY mixes with her spontaneity

part of this is projecting her insecurities. she felt lonely as a child but doesn’t want to be seen as that to the world. it’s not so much a persona but an exaggeration of who she was. 

she likes to show off her glam bc it, once again, hides her insecurities. 

she just kind of is dramatic anymore

like everything about her

her persona as Madi Ko, upcoming popstar underdog, is like DUNKED in glitter, over the top stages and sets, draped in couture. basically her stages/outfits/dances/mvs are like Chungha’s but with Pale Waves and Carly Rae Jepsen VC. ex: 1, 2, 3, 4

also bc im obsessed with chungha’s famous diamond wink, IT’S GONNA BE MADI’S THING TOO. so basically madi has trended on twt a few times bc of her signature diamond wink bc she effing glues rhinestones and glitter under her eyes for performances !! she said fuck corneas !! ex: 1, 2, 3      ....god chungha is magical

so while madi is like a brand hypebeast n never shuts up, she can also get,,, easily annoyed. and heavily perceives ppl on first impressions despite that being the reason she felt misunderstood a lot growing up. 

definitely argumentative!!! will blow up arguments for no reason n then later questions why she made it such a big deal but cant own up to her mistakes

when she decides she doesnt like you, SHE DOESNT LIKE YOU. it’s done. bridge is burned, she’s not keen on second chances

fame has definitely given her a bit of an ego problem --- she’s a bit more aggressive, self-obsessed while intrinsically insecure, is too busy flaunting her material possessions and trendy life that she can...lose touch of reality. basically most of her high school friends cant stand her. HC that her high school bf broke up with her bc she was no longer was the madison ko he knew!!! so if anyone wants to be that ex lmk !!! she’s written songs about them!!!

definitely the type of girl who is so hype at a party, dancing in fallen confetti, standing on the fireplace mantle, but then midway realizes she’s lonely. sad at a party. 

ED TW STARTS!!!!!

....

she kind of always had body image issues growing up, but it was very off and on, but once she got signed and being by surrounded by cameras became normal she formed a full fledged ED. she’s passed out at concerts a few times bc of her ED, but they always brush it off as “not enough rest” or “she wasnt feeling well that day but pushed to perform anyway as to not disappoint the fans”

so feel free for ur muses to point it out !! she’ll get really defensive like “i eat i just work out a lot” and yeah it’s true she works out a lot but she...doesn’t really eat

it’s also one of the causes of her irritability ...

.....

END ED TW!!!!

idk why this is so long

always up for mischief! 

does love a good prank. asks weird hypotheticals 

is not scared of an ouija board

will get wasted off a few shots and drunk madi is UNSTOPPABLE 

one time drunk madi cried bc her siamese cat (MOCHI !!!) wouldn’t ever get to go to school and would never know chemistry..... the dramatics.....

she is sensitive and despises it. she does everything she can to not come across as sensitive

however, she’s so obsessive. so deep in feeling. when she feels something she FEELS it. when she is mad it boils through her. when she is in love it is all she knows. when she is sad it covers her like sweaters and blankets on rainy days. she doesn’t know how to half-feel. everything she feels stops her in her tracks.

HOWEVER she’s the most obsessive with her own insecurities — so in relationships she’s kind of known for tapping out early. she just gets scared and the fleetingness of her career and that she’s at her very core, lonely and disappointed in herself, makes her want to run away thinking that letting down her walls and being vulnerable could only be disappointing for her SO. so maybe she ghosted ur chara or gave some lame excuse

Kind of obsessed with how she’s perceived

terrified that at any moment her career could be thrown away, her deemed irrelevant, and she goes back to being Madison Ko, daughter of nail techs in Koreatown. and then her parents would have been right all along, music was a waste of time.

she’s just my little fallen angel who flew to the sun (fame) and it constantly eats away at her girlhood, at her heart.

anyways this is all i got rn <3 come love me sorry i kind of didn’t shut up this is long

WANTED CONNECTIONS

an ex from before she was famous who broke up with her because of how she changed!! PLEASE i have ideas for this. plus,,, you get a lot of songs about ur chara!!! could be from high school, maybe someone in the music scene she frequented before she was signed, anything!!

anothr ex/fwb/undefined relationship i’d love is one when she was first famous who just introduced her to everything. something like a whirlwind that was exciting and magical. she’s written songs about this person.

exes in general. 

hookups/fwb

romantic plots. pls i have songs who need meaning. friends to lovers, one sided (either way), slowburn, ANYTHING. love cruel summer plots, anything lover by tswift

PR relationships -- would LOVE one where she falls in love with the other despite how clearly defined they made their relationship

love triangles in general just get me going

best friend!!!! the one’s who know how the other feels just by looking at each other. they have countless sleepovers. tell each other everything. cry together on bathroom floors. pregame together. 

ex friends. for whatever reason -- maybe madi did smth shitty, maybe they did. maybe there was backstabbing, maybe madi sacrificed friendship for a career, maybe she made moves on their romantic partner/interest despite being fully aware. idk. gimme

People she knew from the underground/indie scene before they were famous!! they’d have bonded over their love for music, little indie dreams kind of vibe. just imagine a group of dreamers !! Would love if they made some kind of pact!!!

party friends

collabs !!

pranks. mischief. gimme

enemies. gotta cook up some drama, yknow

GIRL GANG. god i just want this so bad like make a girls dream come true

[hzcleski]

hello friends! you probs know who i am already but if not hello! i’m sam aaand this is my newish muse! i played hal here for a minute one time but i’ve decided to give him a huuuuge revamp so character info is under the cut! lmk if you wanna plot! messaging me @ellvie​ is probably easiest!

╰☆╮ DYLAN O'BRIEN ─ HAL ZALESKI identifies as CIS MALE and uses HE/HIM pronouns. they’re a FORMER OLYMPIAN/NHL PLAYER, and they’re only TWENTY THREE ! they’re said to be CAPABLE, but also TURBULENT. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE LEGACY in the tabloids.

quick disclaimer that this is a sideblog so i might post to the wrong account sometimes

other disclaimer a lot of my hockey information is from google ok

nathan harold zaleski jr was practically born with a pair of skates on, which makes sense considering his family is hockey royalty. his father is nathan harold zaleski sr, aka a legend and one of the biggest names in sports to this very day. olympic gold medalist several times over, beloved longtime defenseman for the toronto maple leafs, at the very peak of his career and married to a beautiful wealthy socialite when his only child was born.

listen...this is an au where the maple leafs are good or like, had one genuinely good star player in nathan sr. okay thanks for coming to my ted talk!

he’s got dual citizenship because he was born in canada even though he hasn’t lived there since he was ten, but his parents were us citizens, which doesn’t seem important but WAIT FOR IT

nathan jr, who would begin going by the nickname of hal early on in life, probably learned how to skate before he even learned how to walk because of course he did. his father’s intention was always to have another him. i mean for fuck’s sake they have the exact same name. hal’s purpose in life has never been in question, not by him or anyone who’s ever seen him play.

his natural talent for hockey became apparent from a very young age, which didn’t surprise anyone ofc. his father saw it as a sign and began pushing him even harder, hiring the very best trainers and coaches to help perfect his game while nathan sr focused on his own career.

except that he was running out of steam and fast. nothing happened like there was no huge scandal or career ending injury. nathan sr was just...getting old. fans were simply losing interest in him as newer and younger players joined the league and there was nothing he could really do about it except make sure his legacy lived on.

hal was ten years old when everything seemed to finally fall apart. his dad was hanging on to the very last threads of his career, let go from the maple leafs and almost certainly picked up by the new york rangers purely out of pity. meanwhile, hal’s parents finally divorced which he took almost alarmingly well for a ten year old, but it’s not like his parents were ever a shining example of a deep, loving marriage. they spent years settling the divorce, fighting back and forth while suing the shit out of each other across whole fuckin countries. lowkey they almost wound up being more famous for the legal drama than they were for hockey.

hal’s dad finally retired when he was twelve, won sole custody of him when he was fourteen, and pulled enough strings to get him a spot on the canadian hockey team dual citizenship! going to the 2010 vancouver winter olympics when he was just a teenager, making him one of the youngest players to ever compete in the games.

and canada won gold that year so hal was making history again in no time, being one of the youngest players to ever become a gold medalist in the winter olympics. now he didn’t actually see a lot of playing time that year. his skill was undeniable, but no one seemed to think that he was ready for the big time rush. tbh they probably weren’t wrong, but nevertheless his name and his win made an impression on everyone.

up until that point hal was homeschooled bc ofc education came second to hockey, but he always wanted to attend an actual school and he did! after his first olympics his dad finally sent him to the same private school in the city as all the other rich kids and it was...weird! he started in the middle of the year and was instantly an outsider among his classmates. everyone else had known each other all their lives so hal immediately at a disadvantage. it didn’t help that he’d never really...had a single friend before. tbh his peers were probably intimidated by him. he was just a high schooler and already an olympic gold medalist like...ofc no one wanted to be the person to go approach him and say hi.

played for canada again dual citizenship! at the 2014 winter olympics in sochi when he was eighteen and this time HE WAS THE STAR. absolutely at the top of his game. anyone who still thought that he was a joke before the games started shut up real quick when he won his second gold medal.

he got home and was eventually drafted into the nhl, so he sorta ditched school oops. technically he finished but like...barely since he went back to being tutored for the last few months.

several teams wanted him and tried to throw a shit ton of money at him, but hal settled on the new york rangers with a huge multi million dollar deal

he quickly stole hearts on and off the ice. whether fans admired his skill or followed him during the olympics or remembered his father, for one reason or another he was winning people over left and right. unsurprisingly he’d go on to win the 2014-2015 rookie of the year award, presented to him by the president of the nhl and everything.

he did not attend the 2018 winter olympics in pyeongchang as the nhl famously refused to release their players. hal himself was a major part of the uproar. the whole country of canada dual citizenship! practically threw a fucking fit bc the nhl was disqualifying their star player from winning them their third gold medal in a row and hey big surprise...canada didn’t win gold in 2018 :)

hal’s in the middle of his fifth i think? year of pro hockey rn and so far his career has been solid. his dad is really pushing him to sign with a “better team” and he has gotten offers, but he isn’t really interested. he likes playing for new york & he likes living in new york. maybe someday....maybeeee....but for right now he’s happy with where he is.

okay now for some fast facts!

literally always looks like he just got into a fight, probably bc he just did during his last game. is usually sporting some injury like a black eye or split lip or cut cheek. fortunately hasn’t completely given in to the hockey player stereotype by getting all of his fuckin teeth knocked out...yet

notice that i hardly mentioned his mom? that about sums up their relationship tbh. hal was practically raised by nannies and trainers. his mom always had some brunch or gala or public appearance she was far more invested in. literally she didn’t even really...want custody of him when she divorced his dad, but she claimed to just to be petty and give nathan sr an even more difficult time. yeah they kinda hate each other now and since hal has always been closer to his dad, his mom isn’t even really that interested in seeing him lmao. she’ll call like once a month and invites him to brunch if she happens to be in the city, but ngl hal probably hasn’t seen her in like...a couple years at the least. he’s not really broken up about it either.

right so...walking talking endless pit of daddy issues? you bet! just because hal prefers his dad doesn’t mean that they get along or that his dad is a good person. he still has his perfect public image and he isn’t complete garbage but...yeah their relationship is extremely toxic. he’s always been very harsh with hal, pushing him and pushing him to be the best bc nothing he accomplishes is ever good enough.

so what if he's won two olympic gold medals? so what if he was rookie of the year? so what if he’s considered one of the best and most beloved players in the nhl? he can do more, he can be even better. his dad is a constant voice in his head even though he’s always around anyway. he never misses a game or an opportunity to point out hal’s every flaw.

ofc as a result hal’s always been very hard on himself. every single day of his entire life has been spent basing his self worth off what his father thinks of him. it was awful for his self esteem bc no fucking duh.

HOWEVER. it isn’t public knowledge at this time, but as of right now? hal’s relationship with his father is falling apart faster and faster by the moment. they’re a ticking time bomb & it’s literally only a matter of time before they explode yikes!

fortunately hal could sorta sense the direction things were heading and did something about it. he finally moved out when the hockey season started back in october and he’s been feeling better ever since. like he has more control over his life even though his dad is still WAY too involved.

personality: a douchebag who means no harm, mostly because he's never really trying to be a jerk. tends to come across as a typical meathead jock for good reason bc that’s exactly who he is. in conversation he's usually very blunt and a little awkward bc he’s still learning how to socialize with others. hockey is basically his whole life so it’s all he knows how to talk about, which can either be endearing or annoying. a genius hockey player, but a ditz in every other area. very short - tempered and impulsive. always means well and wants the best for those he cares about, but might go about expressing those feelings in a weird way bc he was never taught how to properly deal with his emotions.

CONNECTIONS

family

step sibling he grew up with - sabrina miller

paternal cousins - warren daily and wren daily

cousin by marriage - rosalind cox

maternal cousin - open. his mom is polish for reference!

romantic

girlfriend - genesis iver

ex fiancée - ginny baker

ex on good terms - margo massey

ex who cheated on him - isla thompson

former fwb - amethyst armenta, open to more.

former toxic on / off relationship - reese monroe

exes, open to more.

hal has a ton of other exes and i don’t feel like listing them tbh all so i’m just gonna assume that y’all know who you are ok

platonic

best friend 5ever - marialena goldstein

confidant - open.

family friends - sullivan ramsey, open to more.

childhood friends - open to more.

close friends - open to more.

friends - mia kauri, chance kauri, theo cannon, angel almeida, open to more.

bickering friends - open to more.

workout buddy - open.

negative

on bad terms - kennedy drakos, jay weston, open to more.

these are just a few plot ideas! i’m most definitely open to other stuff so if you have any ideas please free to share! i think that’s enough from me soooo yeah! mssg me if you wanna plot & as always i’m super excited to write with everyone!