#let me tell you something. i love exploring hurt and accountability in relationships

[gardenofnoah]

part one: you’ve been running behind, i’m afraid you’re too late

wc: 5.7K chapter tags: MDNI, dark content (domestic abuse/physical abuse within a romantic relationship (not between reader and shinsou), general violence, nonconsensual quirk use??, graphic descriptions of injuries), ptsd, healing and forgiveness, undefined relationship between reader and shinsou, gn reader (no pronouns), pet names (“angel”, “baby”), probably inaccurate description of shinsou’s quirk idk

Kyoji was good to you. He was older, he was handsome–he exuded a confidence that you’d not yet been privy to. He spoiled you, really–with gifts and dinners and glimpses into a lifestyle that your young naivety latched onto–you liked him for that. You were taken by his charm, and how he always knew exactly what to say. 

The very things you adored seemed to turn to sharpened weapons that nicked at your skin. But he was careful not to draw blood until he knew he had you.

You’d met at UA, you in your second year and he in his last. You were inseparable from the start–you hung off his arm like a little trophy he could carry around. What he’d ever done to earn that, you’ve no idea now. 

Hitoshi had been weary of him from the start. 

“I don’t know, angel,” he told you, sprawled across your extra long twin bed while you did your hair in the little mirror that sat on your desk. “He seems a little…” pausing between words, treading carefully, “off.”

You’d gotten angry with him at that. You told him that he just didn’t like that you were happy and not hanging out with him–that he was only jealous that he couldn’t follow you like a lost puppy anymore. Your words had very clearly wounded him, but he recovered before you could think too much of it–the hurt bleeding back into his practiced indifference. 

“Just be careful, okay?” he asked quietly as you all but tossed him out of your dorm. “Call me if you need anything.”

You’d brushed it off, along with everyone else's thinly-veiled warnings, and continued to see Kyoji. Things were going well enough–he graduated and took you with him. There might have been something foreboding about it, but it was fleeting and you didn’t put up a fight–didn’t dig your heels in at all as he was picking up the boxes made up of everything you were before him and loading them into the back of his car. You completed your last year at UA from the bedroom of the apartment you were suddenly sharing–all tall ceilings and chrome appliances. All for show, sparking and without a sign of life–just how Kyoji pictured it. There wasn’t a sign of you anywhere–all of your boxes had ended up in a storage unit not far from UA. They hadn’t even made it the whole drive to the apartment–it hadn’t taken long at all for him to convince you that he could buy you things that were far nicer than what you had in them. 

You still saw Hitoshi, but your interactions were rare. If he caught wind that you were on campus for any reason, he’d seek you out–joyfully ignoring the cold shoulder you usually tried to give him. He’d loop an arm around your neck, laughing at the way you bristled at his touch. You pretended not to notice how forced it was–how he raked his eyes over you, searching for something you didn’t want him to see. Both of you caught in a bizarre performance of make believe in front of your other friends, who all regarded you with the same, thinly-veiled apprehension. Scanning for something that wasn’t yet there, but that surely would be. All of you a group of dangling marionettes, creaking clumsily toward the final act.

Kyoji didn’t like Hitoshi. He’d made that clear from the beginning. He thought that your relationship with the purple-haired hero was strange, going so far as to tell you that Hitoshi was “toxic”– someone who was “isolating you from the people who cared for you”. The fact that Hitoshi behaved like he did–mostly aloof, eager to wound with his quick tongue–made it an easy sell, despite him only ever regarding you with a gentle fondness. Kyoji stressed that he was only worried, because clearly Hitoshi had manipulated you into some semblance of friendship with him–one that was surely only transactional to him. It had always been clear, to Kyoji–who was wiser and older and only ever wanted the best for you–so you let him steer you away from Hitoshi. You closed your eyes when he turned you away from your other friends, too–letting him take the wheel. He knew better than you did, you were sure. 

Now you know it was bullshit, but you were in love, supposedly–you believed him because you had no reason to doubt him. And he loved you–he told you so, in all of his elaborate, and often very public, displays of affection. Each overblown effort made you uncomfortable, but he’d gone through so much trouble–and made sure you were aware of it. So you let him love you like that, even if it left you feeling a little hollow. 

You scoff at the memory, now. Curled up in the corner, locked in your bedroom. Bruised and weak, you reach for your phone on the floor next to you. You scroll until you find his name.

He watches your face pop up on his phone on the coffee table. Half asleep, he reaches to pause the movie he’d been watching, and presses the green button by your name.

“Hi, angel.” he murmurs through a yawn. 

“Hitoshi,” you croak, and he’s upright immediately. By your tone, he knows you’re not safe. He curses himself for not catching this sooner–he should have known that things had gotten worse when you stopped answering his texts a few weeks ago. He’d given you space, hoping that time show you what kind of person Kyoji really was, but it’s apparent now that it only served to isolate you further. He’s made up his mind, though–the gears in his brain slip into place automatically, and he won’t let himself feel remorse over what he’s about to do–not yet, anyway. He’ll ask his questions–give you the chance to lie to him, like he knows you will–but he’s already decided. He hopes that you won’t hate him for it. 

“What’s going on?”

“Just–” a sharp intake of breath, like it hurts you, “so tired. I’m so tired of this.”

He takes a breath himself–deep and rattling in his chest, pleading with himself to keep a level head. He needs to, or he won’t be able to do this. He just needs to get you out–to get you somewhere safe. He squeezes his eyes shut, and pictures your reality–alone, hurt, and curled into yourself. He feels his pulse pick up, and tries to think of something else.

Questions be damned. He needs to do this now. 

He says a quick, silent prayer to whomever is listening. To please let this work. To make you understand–to maybe forgive him, one day. 

He steadies himself, and opens his eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

“Um–no, I don’t know, I–”

He’s flooded with pain, all at once. Sharp and radiating, in his eye and over his rib cage, and across his throat in a way that feels suspiciously like–

You were hurt, then. 

He’s overwhelmed by the full range of your emotions, too, as intimately as if they were his–shock, at first. He jolts as you startle, like the lights have just flickered out during a heavy storm. He feels the moment the recognition hits you–when you realize what he’s done–and he feels it when you start to fight it. 

“Please stop,” it’s a whispered plea that comes from him, into the receiver he keeps up to your ear. He hears your breath hitch.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he says, and he’s moving now–already down the front steps and out the door.

It’s effort, like this–he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to use his quirk over the phone. He’d asked Aizawa about it, who eyed him for a long time before he’d answered simply, “You should really think about it.”

And he has, but he sees no other option. Hitoshi knows, very acutely, that he is hurting you– that he’s not doing a good thing right now. The thought of it turns in his stomach, but he can’t stop. Not until he knows you’re safe. 

He envisions your body in his mind. It’s fuzzy, at best–the outline of you is warbled and distorted, but he can do this. 

“We’re gonna move now, baby,” he rasps, suddenly fatigued by the exertion of keeping himself moving and keeping you in his grasp. Like a villain, he thinks, and promptly ignores.

He starts to move you and the feeling is nearly blinding–you’re in pain. His own rib cage seizes and it knocks the breath out of him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he tries to placate you, even though he knows it’s shallow, “We just need to get you standing. Can you do that for me?”

It’s stupid of him to try to ask anything of you right now, and he hears you echo the sentiment–you’re still fighting him, though not as valiantly as before. He can feel how exhausted you are, and it’s not your injuries that make his chest ache now. 

He hurries past a gas station and realizes he’s closer to you than he thought. He hadn’t been paying attention, not really–hadn’t even bothered to disguise himself with more than his black hoodie pulled over his head. He hears voices to his right and realizes that he really didn’t think this through–that he could easily be caught off guard right now, with all of his focus on you. Driving wasn’t an option, though–it was dangerous enough just for him to try to walk and do this.

He catches himself trying to create distance in his mind. To call it this, instead of naming it. Because if he allows himself to recognize what he’s really doing to you, he won’t be able to keep you under his quirk, and he just needs to get you out–

He feels a bump to both knees, and he realizes that he’s gotten you up and moving. He sees the vague outline of your bedroom window, and thanks whatever god is up there that you live on the first floor. Now that he’s closer to you, your body is more in focus. He can manage like this.

He comes to a stop at a street corner, less than a block from your house. He takes a breath in, and focuses again. 

“Okay angel,” he says, keeping his voice soft, “we need to get this open. I’m going to be gentle, but it’s still going to hurt.”

It does–immediately. Having to lift the window with one arm to keep the phone to your ear–the only way to keep up the connection–is putting too much strain on the fractures of your ribs. He feels you thrash in his mind, and he almost wishes he could hear your voice, just so you could scream at him. He wishes he could at least give you that. 

All at once the pain is cut off and bleeds into something different. Panic, he recognizes. Hitoshi feels the adrenaline spike in your body and realizes he’s run out of time. 

He needs to get you out now.

He takes off in a sprint toward the direction of your apartment. His hold on you falters, only for a second, but it makes you stumble. He feels his own fear spike. 

“I’m coming,” he tells you, and it comes out like a plea, “I’m right there baby, just hold on–”

He hears the yelling as he rounds the corner. He sees you then, half way out the window, and he knows if he lets go of you now, you won’t make it out. 

He feels a bruising pain wrap around his wrist, and he goes cold.

Hitoshi makes it to the window before he knows it and lets you go. He wraps his arms around your middle as you go limp, and when he looks up, he is face to face with the man who did this to you. 

Kyoji, who is still crushing your wrist in his hand. 

“What the fuck,” Hitoshi grinds out, and it is lethal when it leaves him, “are you doing?”

“What am I do–” 

He doesn’t give Kyoji any time to give a real answer before he’s in his head. The fatigue is stifling, but his adrenaline fuels his quirk. The grip on your wrist falls slack. He pulls you the rest of the way out of the window, careful not to aggravate your ribs further. You whimper, not yet fully conscious, as he sets you down gently in the grass.

“Give me one second, angel,” he tells your limp form, brushing your hair back from your eyes.

He takes a step forward, as does Kyoji–rigid and clearly unwilling, but he moves despite himself, because he’s no longer in control. Through the window, Histoshi takes a long look at him, and feels nothing but contempt. He lets it bleed into the connection between them–feels only a white, hot anger coming from the man in his hold, and it makes him smile.

“You won’t make that mistake again.”

He watches from outside himself, then, as he leads Kyoji’s hands through the open window. Hitoshi feels nothing as he slams it down over his fingers. He lets the bastard go right as it connects.

Hitoshi hears the crunch of splintering bone, and only watches as his victim comes back to himself. Feels nothing as he watches him process what has just happened. And then, as a howl of pain breeches the silence, a sick part of him howls back—feeling more than a little justified. 

He watches for a second more, and then turns his attention back to you. Still limp in the grass–whether you’re still unconscious or you’re pretending to be, he isn’t sure, but he couldn’t blame you if it was the latter. Hitoshi gathers you in his arms, and you don’t fight him. He wonders if you have any fight left. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing his cheek against your temple in some vain attempt at comfort as he walks, “I’m so sorry.”

Hitoshi is a nervous wreck. 

He fumbles through his own kitchen like he’s never been in it before. He opens cabinets, closes them, and opens them again. He’s opened the fridge at least three times in the last five minutes, like something will be different each time he opens it.

He has no idea what to do with himself. 

He comes to a stop, finally, in front of the counter and braces his hands against the cool stone. He lets his head hang and takes in a deep, shuddering breath through his nose. The only thing he can focus on is the knowledge that you are asleep in the next room.

He’d brought you in and set you on his bed, checking to make sure none of your injuries were life threatening. When he was satisfied that they were not, he turned on his heel and all but sprinted out of his room, closing the door as softly as he could behind him. Sleep wasn’t an option for him after that. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, knuckles straining in their grip on the countertop. He was nothing if not cowardly. 

He nearly comes out of his skin when his phone rings next to him. He spares it a glance, and feels his stomach lurch when he sees who it is. He hits the green button, and it’s not a second after that the voice on the other end lays into him. 

“You fuckin’ idiot,” Bakugou seethes, “what did you do?”

Hitoshi has never experienced Bakugou as quiet as he is right now. The silence on the other end of the line stretches and expands like a living thing–it’s suffocating, but he allows it to drag on. He won’t be the one to break it.

He hears Bakugou sigh and lets out a breath of his own.

“The injuries–” he says finally, sounding tired in a way that Hitoshi hasn’t heard in a long time, “are they–”

“Not life threatening,” he grits, hearing the strain in his own voice, “I can take care of them here. But Bakugou–”

“I get it,” Bakugou cuts him off, gruff. For the first time in Hitoshi’s life, the constant of his harsh inflection is a comfort. “Was fuckin’ stupid, and you’re real lucky I was the one to respond. But I get it.”

Hitoshi says nothing. He can’t say anything. Bakugou sighs again, long and resigned. 

“I’ll handle it,” he says finally, and Hitoshi can barely breathe, “Just take care of your shit.”

“I will,” he whispers, but Bakugou has already hung up.

He stares at the phone in his hand then, like it might come alive at any second. Now that he knows what he can do with it, he thinks he ought to throw it down and crush it under his heel. 

His mind goes back to where it always does–to you. He knows that it’s a vile thing he’s done, and he doesn’t know how he’ll face you now. He just couldn’t stand the way your voice cracked every time you called–he isn’t too proud to admit that he was afraid. He’s responded to so many of these calls, and he knew of the few that heroes didn’t make it there in time–he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you like that. He couldn’t sit and wait for that to happen–that was never an option. 

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. He tries to resign himself to what's coming when you wake up. Tries to tell himself that it will still be worth it if you hate him–and he knows that it is, because you’ll be alive. But he will be another man that you can no longer trust, and as much as he deserves that, he can’t stand it.

He swallows thickly, setting the phone down and pushing off the counter. He supposes he could at least make himself useful and get some food ready for you while you slept.

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake, but it feels like far too long.

Every jagged intake of breath rattles an ache through your rib cage. It shouldn’t feel like that, you think, but the thought fizzles out of your mind with the rest of them. It’s enough effort to force your lungs to inflate. You reach out a hand, slowly, ignoring the pain that radiates up your arm when you close your fingers around the sheets beneath you. They’re soft, and they’re not yours. But you knew that.

You don’t have the luxury of survivor’s amnesia. You remember everything. 

You won’t cry. You wish you could, and you think it’d do you well–but to cry requires energy that you just don’t have. So you blink your eyes open through the sting, watching the fuzzy outline of the ceiling fan come into focus. It whirls around lazily, and it seems silly that it’s not doing much of any cooling, but you think that maybe Hitoshi couldn’t stand for things to be still when he put you there, so he turned it on. 

Hitoshi.

You suck in a breath, gritting your teeth at the flash of pain. You feel it everywhere, and you are catapulted back into the feeling of your limbs moving against your will. It makes you want to curl into yourself, but you have a feeling you’d risk puncturing a lung if you did, so you lay there and let the feeling wash over you, pinning you to the bed. 

You might be angry at him–you can’t be sure. You feel what could be anger, broadly, but you have a feeling that it’s true target is beyond Hitoshi, beyond Kyoji, beyond the way you’ve been rendered immobile more times than you care to count. You can’t reach it yet, but it is certainly there. 

You know that your injuries are severe, but that they will heal. The physical ones, anyway. You don’t know how to go about healing what lurks beneath the surface–what’s been circling in the dark for years now. You’d reached a point about a month ago, when the verbal abuse became physical–a new place, one without much feeling at all–that had startled you at first. But you found it was better when you allowed yourself to lean into it–the physical pain from a throttled neck or a broken bone paled in comparison to the vast emptiness of the quiet void you could escape into. But the feelings come back, as you lay here, and you yearn for the dark nothing again. You know suddenly that it’s not the broken ribs keeping you here in this bed.

Despite every nerve in your body screaming at you to stop, you push yourself to a sitting position. It takes a while, and you have to twist like one of those wooden snake toys you had as a child. You feel your bones clink off one another similarly, and you breathe out something that sounds to you like a laugh. It’s ridiculous, the whole thing–to be reduced to something so fractured and still feel the need to stand up and keep going. It’s hard for you to see the merit in that right now, but you do it anyway. 

Hitoshi nearly comes out of his skin for the second time that day when he sees you standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye.

He looks at you and he knows he should stop, because he’s not in control of his face right now and he wants to be composed for you. But he is not, and he knows you can see it. 

He can’t look away. There’s a bruise that spans from your cheekbone to your eyebrow that he’s fixated on, which feels like the safest place to look right now because he knows if he looks at the one across your throat, he will lose out to the animal growling in his chest. Knows he will walk out the door and not stop at Kyoji’s broken fingers. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. When he looks at you again, he can’t tell what you're feeling. You are more devoid of emotion than he’s ever seen you, and it scares him. He opens his mouth, because the tension is crushing him.

“I–”

“Overstepped.”

He blinks, unsure if he’s just hallucinated. It isn’t until he watches your mouth move around the words that he’s sure he didn’t.

“You overstepped,” you say again, flatly. 

“I know,” and he does. He thinks that’s an understatement. “I’m sorry.”

He watches the corner of your lip curl into something he doesn’t recognize. 

“You’re sorry.” You repeat him like you’ve never heard the words before. “What is it that you’re sorry for?”

“I know that I shouldn’t have used my quirk on you,” he says, too quickly, “I just knew that he hurt you and I was–”

“You were what?” the tone of your voice is a warning when you cut him off, “hoping to be the hero that saves the day? You were inside me–did you think that wouldn’t hurt me?”

“No–I know it did,” he hears the plea in his voice and hates it. He knows he has no right to ask you to hear him. Really, he shouldn’t say anything, but he keeps talking anyway. “I know it did, and I’m sorry, I just knew you needed help–”

You cut him off with a bitter laugh, and then a hiss, hands hovering over your abdomen like you’re trying to wave away the pain. He feels it in his own body, quirk or not. 

“I never asked for your help, Hitoshi.”

He’s quiet then, feeling the phantom ache spread to his limbs. He knows you didn’t–it’s not often that abuse survivors do. It didn’t matter how close you were to him–you were out on that island alone, all the same. 

“Would you have ever?”

You glare at him. You open your mouth and close it just as quickly–he hears your teeth clack together like you’re biting down on what you really want to say. He watches you think about it. 

“No.”

He sighs, running a hand over his face. He knew the answer, but it’s not any less jarring to hear you say it. 

“I didn’t feel like I had a choice,” he whispers, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

You let out a laugh–clipped and indignant. A knife, thrown right at him. 

“You didn’t have a choice?” you snarl, and he wants to grab his words out of the air and swallow them, but he knows he’s too late. “You took over my body and you want to talk about choice?”

He can’t say anything. He watches the emotion flood you and knows it’s his doing. 

“Jesus Christ,” you laugh, “did you ever consider asking me what I needed, before you did that? Or did you think that being a hero meant you knew better?”

It’s startling, how on the mark you are. The shame lumbers over him like a tidal wave– he’s never asked anyone what they needed, not really. He just acted. He was always just acting, never thinking first. Until now, the former made him a great hero.

“What I really need is for everyone to get their fucking hands off of me and to let me have the control that I deserve to have over my life.”

He can’t look at you, and he knows for that he is a coward. He knows that he has done something so unforgivable and he hates the way he wants to get on the ground and beg for your forgiveness anyway. He knows this is the part where you walk out of his house and never speak to him again. He considers telling you that he’ll call someone to come get you so you don’t have to stay here.

And that thought gives him pause, because there he goes again–deciding what’s best for you. 

He wants to stop doing that. He’s been looking at you as a statistic, and that alone breaks his heart, because you are his best friend.

You are his best friend—the love of his life—and you are hurting right now.

So he gathers all of his resolve and meets your eyes. He tries very hard not to flinch away from the anger you pin him with when he asks, “what do you want to do right now?”

Your face twists with an emotion he doesn’t recognize for an instant, and then it’s gone, and there’s that blank, unfeeling look staring back at him. You sigh, and it surprises him when he hears it tremble. 

“I–there’s blood. On me.”

“Yeah,” his voice is a whisper, “do you want to shower?”

You sag against the doorframe, like someone’s let go of your strings for the first time. He smothers the urge to go to you and hold you up himself. 

“I don’t think I can stand,” you rasp, eyes shut tight. 

“Can I run you a bath?” he asks gently, rising to his feet.

You nod tightly, watching him as he approaches you. He stops a foot in front of you, cautious. 

“Can I help you to the bathroom?”

You eye him like you think it’s a trap, and it’s a twisted knife in his chest. But he doesn’t waver—he waits. He leaves room for a no. 

He bites back the relieved sigh that wants to escape him when you reach for him. 

It takes a minute to figure out how to support you without hurting your ribs. You settle for looping your arm through his, and he covers it with his other hand, careful of your wrist. He gets you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he turns on the faucet. 

“Hitoshi.”

He almost doesn’t hear you, over the water, but the shake of your voice has him whipping around, posturing to protect–

“Don’t do that again.”

And it’s him, then, who has hurt you– who continues to hurt you. He watches the tears pool in your eyes and feels so, so sick. 

“I won’t,” it’s quiet, but he hopes you understand that he means it, “not ever again.”

The water that ripples around your body is tinted pink. You wonder how long you’ll have to watch pieces of you slip down the drain until you’re whole again. 

For a while you just sit–the warm water offers some small comfort if you close your eyes and pretend that this is a regular day for you. That you’re not coming apart at your seams. But the temporary lull is interrupted when the water grows cold. 

“Hitoshi,” you call, quietly. You have a feeling he’s sitting just outside of the door. 

“Mm?” He is.

“The water is cold.” 

“Do you need help getting out?”

“No, I–” you struggle a bit, to vocalize what you need, despite so adamantly wanting that not 20 minutes ago. All of your bravado from earlier has slipped down the plumbing with the rest of you. “It’s cold.”

You think you can hear his brain go through the mental gymnastics routine you’ve tasked it with, and you try to feel a little sorry for him, but before you can get too carried away he catches up.

“Can you pull the curtain closed?”

It’s hard, and it hurts, but you manage. “It’s closed.”

You hear him come in and kneel beside the tub. You watch him reach into the water–the water that’s saturated with you–to grab the plug from the drain, and your heart kicks in your chest. 

“Hitoshi, the water is all–”

“It’s okay,” he says gently, and you hear the seal break with a little bubble beneath the surface, “It’s alright.”

He lets about half of the water out before he twists the faucet. You feel the water warm up again and you sigh, trying to relax a bit. Hitoshi dips a hand into the tub, moving the warmth around.

When it’s full, he twists the faucet back and moves to stand.

“Do you—” the words taste uncertain when they leave you, “do you think you could sit here with me?”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, and it makes you feel a little better. You hear him move to sit next to you–you watch his outline through the curtain. When you look down, the water is clear. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” you whisper. Not quite willing to apologize, but still feeling like you should say something.

“Yes, you should have.”

You pause, and when the tears come, you let them. “I’m tired, Hi.”

He lets out a breath at the nickname and you wrap your arms around yourself, needing to feel some sort of comfort.

“I know you are, angel.”

The silence is stretched between you, but it’s permeable this time. He’s trying to extend an olive branch—you decide to let him. 

“Will you help me out of here?” you ask quietly.

It takes some maneuvering to get yourself standing, and when you gather the bravery needed to draw back the curtain, Hitoshi is already holding up a towel and looking starkly away from you, the tips of his ears a little red. You’d laugh if you could, but instead you just lean into him and let him wrap the towel around you. It’s warm, and you realize he must have put it in the drier at some point during your bath. The consideration has you stepping out of the tub and further into his arms–wrapping yourself around his middle before you can think better of it. He goes rigid for only a second before you feel his arms around your shoulders, caging your head in and pulling you closer. It’s startling how familiar it feels–how safe it feels, despite what he’s done–and you don’t fight the sob that tears through your throat when he presses his cheek to your temple and runs his fingers through the damp tangles of your hair. 

He sways gently, rocking you like he’s consoling an infant. You don’t have it in you to be anything but comforted by it. You let out a broken whimper of his name through your tears.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs as you gather the material of his shirt in your fists, “I know.”

Before either of you know it, weeks have passed. You haven’t mentioned leaving and Hitoshi wouldn’t dream of asking you to go, so you stay. He takes every day as an opportunity to gain your trust. 

It’s a fickle thing–he notices every time you flinch away from him when he accidentally brushes against you. He notices how far you sit from him on the couch, and how quiet you’ve been. It hurts tremendously, but he knows it is his fault. He’ll give you all of the time and space you need. 

He cooks for you–both because he’s not sure how else to care for you right now, and because he just likes to know that you’re being looked after. He remembers how often he’d call in the middle of your “dinner”–something frozen and microwaved because Kyoji hadn’t bothered to follow through on the plans you’d made and you were left alone. Hitoshi thinks this is the best way he can help you heal–to make sure your body gets all of the vitamins it needs. It’s a small thing, really, but he hopes it means something. 

He sees you out of the corner of his eye–leaning against the doorway, watching him. He smiles softly at you before he continues slicing the vegetables he’s picked out.

“What are you making?”

“Soup,” he tells you, sliding the cubed carrots off the edge of the knife and into the broth that boils beneath it, “seemed like a good day for it.”

He hears you hum, a sweet little affirmative that makes him smile again. He pulls a potato from the vegetables in front of him and turns it over a few times in his hands–checking for blemishes and wondering if he should cut it differently than the carrots, to give it some variety–if you’d appreciate the extra effort.

He startles when he feels pressure between his shoulder blades–goes rigid when he realizes it’s your forehead pressed against him. 

“Angel?” he croaks, cautious.

“I’m trying, Hi.”

He lets out a breath, setting the knife down in front of him. “I know you are.”

“I just,” you start, pressing a little harder into him to emphasize your frustration, “I don’t want you to think that I’m punishing you–”

“Hey,” he calls to you softly, trying to interrupt whatever self deprecation is happening in your brain, “I don’t think that. I know that it’s going to take some time.”

You sigh, a strained thing, and when you wrap your arms around his middle, he indulges himself in the unbridled relief that comes with the knowledge that you want to forgive him. He looks down at where your hands cross over his abdomen–the bruise on your wrist is nearly faded now. A tiny yellow stain on your skin. He wants to smooth it away with his thumb, but he doesn’t–he keeps the ball in your court and his hands glued flat to the countertop.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” you pause, thinking about it, “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of you, “you want to go find a movie to watch? The food’ll be done soon.”

You hum, untangling yourself from him to do just that. Hitoshi finds that the weight of your absence is far heavier than he expects it to be.

It’s a start. There are undoubtedly things you still need to say and questions that you need answers to. He’ll give them when you’re ready. For now, he reaches to turn up the flame on the stove, stirring the broth with new intention.

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

[jamiesfootball]

After careful consideration and a lot of angry tags, I think I have pinpointed for me where Ted Lasso, especially season three, fails to succeed all the way at the themes it explores.

The narrative uses the deconstruction of toxic masculinity to paint their characters as being stronger for having let go of their preconceived notions of acceptable behavior - but the narrative also never lets their characters be weak or fragile without having toxic masculinity to blame. And there are a lot of situations in this show where you would expect someone to go ‘hey man, are you okay? Are you doing alright? because that was a shit thing that happened. it’s okay if you’re not okay.’

And it never does.

There’s an undercurrent in how scenes play out that suggests that the male characters should be strong enough to deal with hand they’ve been dealt. The narrative suggests that they’re the ones who need corrected. They can act better, but they can not be treated better themselves as a result. The male characters are allowed to express themselves, but they are not allowed to ask for anything back from the situation.

Which is why you can have a fight with your assistant coach, but when he comes back to apologize you don’t articulate how it made you feel. You don’t tell your friend how he hurt your feelings. You just accept it and move on.

The Diamond Dogs give advice on how to handle external problems with  emotional roots. They never discuss how they feel internally on its own merit.

The closest we got to a male character just having a bad one and expressing it without a clear source of external conflict? Jamie in the boot room. And that was played for laughs.

Which is why you could be in a deep depression over losing your career of twenty years and part of your mobility, I guess. But also maybe that’s a problem of you not being able to let go, and maybe you should apologize for not moving on sooner? We should pity Roy for getting so stuck in his own shit all the time. Not because the man has lived an incredibly stressful and emotionally isolated life in a high pressure environment for so long he doesn’t have the tools to deal with it, but because the narrative would like us to know if he just stopped getting in his own way all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem.

Is your ex-wife seeing someone else, who happens to also be the person who was your marriage counselor? I don’t know man, relationships are hard. Don’t worry about how hard that must have shaken your trust in a profession that already made you feel skittish. Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and move on.

Your girlfriend can tell all your friends and coworkers how you’re too smothering. Yes, this is the ‘learn how to communicate better’ show, but that was on you, really. Good on you for apologizing for smothering her.

The women may have worrying relationships with people who love bomb them or turn out to be controlling, but Jane and Beard are just a bit weird. Don’t worry about it, Higgins.

You can take accountability for your actions, but if it was your email who was hacked - who cares? You apologized, and everyone is very proud of you. We won’t ever bring up how incredibly mortifying that must have been for you to realize, because something more mortifying happened to someone else.

You can show your emotions, but not the angry ones, not the bad ones - those you should get a hold on, no matter how warranted they are. The stronger you are, the more divorced from toxic masculinity you are, the less those things should matter.

Struggling with your abusive dad and how his relationship with you has literally scared you so badly that you keep looking over your shoulder, afraid he’ll be there? That is clearly the anger talking. This is definitely not a situation that calls for your pseudo-father figure to put his hand on your shoulder, look you in the eye, and say, “i’m really sorry to hear that, son, but you know we got your back. Ain’t nothing bad gonna happen to you while we’re here.” 

No no, this is a you problem and you can correct it by forgiving that man who hurt you. In fact, you thank him for motivating you. It was the anger that got you this far. It wasn’t getting up at 4am every morning for extra training. It wasn’t your mentor, the one invested all his time in helping you. It wasn’t the coach who gave you a second chance when you blew your whole life up to get away from that man. It wasn’t your own drive and passion and love for the sport that pushed you towards succeeding in a career you only had a one-in-a-million chance of ever getting. No, it was the anger that carried you. You should let that go. And hey - what if hypothetically speaking, he might try to be better too one day? You can’t hold it against him. You should let that go too.

Breakdowns and displays of crying are fine, but expecting people to care or show concern afterwards? The narrative doesn’t know her. The narrative will not validate that. We don’t see what happened after Wembley. We don’t see what happened when Isaac came back to the locker room after blowing up. What the show will validate, however, is moving on. Just be a goldfish, or forgive and forget. 

And finally-

Embrace your feelings, but not too hard - you can’t be trusted with them, actually.

Can you imagine that we actually got a scene of Roy telling Jamie that he was worried if either of them pursued Keeley it might ruin their friendship? Can you imagine? From the beginning they have butted heads. From the beginning, Roy has struggled to actually articulate his feelings, especially to the people they involve. And here is Roy doing exactly what the narrative has been teaching him to do - he voiced a feeling that was bothering him to the person who was involved in the problem. Unprompted. He did that on his own. After three seasons of being told that is what he should do when he has a problem, that should have been the moment of narrative reward. That would have been the audience’s release of tension: they’re still at odds, they’re still the same bull-headed people they’ve always been, but they’ve learned to talk about it. No matter what happens next, at least, they’ve gotten this far.

Instead the narrative rewarded him, and us, by having them fight it out in a back alley. Because they’re idiots, and they can’t be trusted to handle their feelings without someone else in the narrative (Keeley) setting them straight.

Yes, people backslide in real life all the time. But when the narrative backslides at the very end of the story - that’s just nihilism. That’s what this felt like - all that progress and promise that you can be better, and two of the people who struggled the most tripped at the finish line. The audience don’t even get to see them pick back up. I mean they’re fine now, I guess. They went for kebabs. I have to assume it worked out. I guess after that they found a way to be happy, but I would have preferred to see them find a way to be happy by way of their own actions. Not in a fanfic. Not by way of imagining how it went afterwards. Not by what’s implied in a montage. By the story actually showing me they could get there on their own.

And the worst part about all of this is that when the show gets it right? It fucking sings. The team coming together to repair Ola’s? That sings. Ted’s ‘ain’t nobody in this room alone’ speech? Wonderful. Trent telling Colin that ‘some people need time to adjust; it’s not fair, but they do’? So delicately wielded, so painful. Beard’s speech to Nate about stealing a loaf of meth? Chef’s kiss. Ted forgiving Rebecca when he learns why she brought him to coach Richmond? The tears in his eyes when he tells her ‘divorce is hard’?

The hug at Wembley.

That’s what I wanted, from start to finale. When the show knew how to wield its empathy, it wielded it like a knife, cutting into the deepest parts of your heart.

Which is why when it does mess up, it hurts so much worse. Because by season three, the show has sunk so far into the deconstruction of things that it’s forgotten that what it fixed were not the only problems those characters ever faced. The show zoomed in too close on the themes. It forgot that at its roots, the its biggest strength has been its empathy. And that to me is where the show failed.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I am going to hazard a guess and predict that most queer viewers are going to side with Crowley in the divorce? The subtext here is usually that Crowley is a queer person who is comfortable in their identity while Aziraphale still doesn't let go of the church and internalized homophobia. And then asking Crowley to try to conform in a way that Crowley has never been comfortable with, implying that in order for this relationship to work you need to be something that you're not (especially potent bc Crowley in particular is explicitly nonbinary/ gender fluid)... its almost violating. That should clearly be asking too much of him and it only hurts worse to realize that Aziraphale doesn't realize that and doesn't truly accept Crowley as he is. Which is a fundamentally Queer Experience Thing.

okay again full disclosure i am not queer, so im only going to answer this to the best of my ability besties, if i don't write things right or deliberately misunderstand a nuance in this, please know im doing my best and anything that is upsetting or offensive please tell me, i am so not qualified to answer this... but nonnie has asked so i shall give it a go!!!✨💓 (cut bc length)

genuine question here: wouldn't, arguably, in this whole choosing sides thing, crowley vs aziraphale, be exactly what divides the queer community? those that could sympathise with aziraphale and his allegory vs those that could sympathise with crowley? this is a genuine question bc i would have thought depending on your (general you) guys' (nb) variety of experiences, good and bad, there are those that could see either side or both?

as for trying to make crowley conform - i'm not going to argue this per se, bc i realise that this must be a very painful concept or experience to go through, and i Will Not invalidate that. but on the other side of the argument, whilst i see and agree that this is how aziraphale could be interpreted generally in this argument, i didn't see it this way at all. not when taking into account aziraphale's whole demeanour in s2.

my understanding is that, as far as the canon has showed us, aziraphale knows very little about the true circumstances of crowley's fall (only that aziraphale warned him against asking questions), and even less about crowley's inner feelings on the matter. whenever aziraphale mentions it, or crowley having been an angel, crowley understandably responds aggressively and angry and obviously that it's still painful.

i don't think it's too far beyond reason for aziraphale to think that crowley - a good demon - might want to take a chance to have the wrong righted (as he sees it), to receive what aziraphale would consider a boon, an apology. whilst he's not in hell's clutches, crowley would have the chance to be free of hell completely. furthermore, it's a chance for them to be together, as friends or otherwise (obvs the metatron conversation is before crowley's confession), and to build the world they want - fair and honest and kind - together. because it's not as if crowley doesn't want that, but he just won't go anywhere near being an angel in order to do it - borne of fear yes but also resentment and bitterness... possibly even arrogance.

aziraphale does lord his angelic status over crowley especially in s1, and does hold a very black and white view over angels = good, demons = bad, but for the most part i think he has started to explore the possibility of grey more in s2. he starts to ease back on crowley and concentrate on making him feel wanted and loved (however that might look on Their Side), but still leaving him agency.

ive talked about aziraphale putting him on a pedestal and that is true, but the person on that pedestal, I don't think, is angel crowley - i don't think it's that simple. i think it's good demon crowley. and that good demon crowley would want to change the world, right?? well, he's got to be an angel to do it - even better!!!

so i didn't necessarily see it as aziraphale wanting to change crowley at all, but instead him thinking that based on what crowley has told him, of course crowley would want this!!! he deserves to be forgiven and restored, he's earnt it and he's a good person!!! but aziraphale unfortunately reneges on his emerging attempts to give crowley that agency, and instead decides for him. i don't think it was necessarily out of wanting to change crowley, but instead him not knowing the full story and therefore choosing a resolution for crowley out of love and respect... but one that crowley doesn't want.

these boys REFUSE to communicate and 👏 it 👏 shows👏✨

[treesspeaklatin]

It's spirk ficrec time! Fics with less than 400 kudos - part 2

Part 1 here ; part 3 coming soon

These things we do not speak of - Della19 (AOS)

Basically anything written by this author is the best thing you'll read today, but this one, omg, this one. I don't have the right words to describe what it did to my heart. It's a classic falling in love - introspection - pon farr fic. The author has an amazing control of their style and of the characters, and the levels of pining are astronomical. Locked on ao3, so you'll need an account to read it.

The Sea King - killabeez (TOS MIRROR)

When I found this fic I couldn't believe my eyes. It's a mirroresque Gilgamesh au, elegant, epic and bittersweet. The mix of futuristic and mythological elements is really good. Can I say Gilgamesh and Enkidu were the original t'hy'la? There, I said it. Read this if you're looking for something different and you want to be surprised.

Root Systems - Moonfishgirl (AOS)

During a stay on New Vulcan, Jim watches Spock exist inside his own culture, and in the process he discovers something about himself (spoiler: he looooves him!). Adorable fic, rich on Vulcan traditions. Read this if you are into some good Vulcan culture and ancient t'hy'la warrior bond lore.

Five times Bones and Jim forgot they were married - Goldencoalcat (AOS MCSPIRK)

This time I wanted to include some Bones/Kirk/Spock too. This fic is adorable and a good Jim character study. It explores his relationship with his family and Winona in particular, and the reasons why he has issues with being loved. Characters are spot on. Read this if you're in the mood for hurt!Jim being pampered and loved by his two husbands.

one grave too many - leafings (every universe)

Not exactly a mirror universe, but a twisted, fucked-up universe in which the crew loves Jim in a dark and obsessive way and is willing to do anything for his sake, and I mean here Enterprise rhymes with homicide. In the midst of the dark stuff, to no one's surprise, Jim and Spock also find time for their t'hy'la shit. I live for this concept.

A heart even more your own - cicia3 (TOS)

Hey, it's me. I wanted to end with this fic of mine because I really think I wrote this in some sort of mystical fit and I'll never write something this good again lol it's a Persuasion AU with some other good old Austen shenanigans. Excruciating pining + sexual tension + romance.

(last but not the least. Do you know why I specifically choose fics with less than 400 kudos? Because they are fucking amazing and it's ridiculous they don't have something like 2k kudos while they deserve so much more recognition. So PLEASE for the love of god, if you're gonna read these fics and if you'll love them (and you'll probably love them) tell the authors! Smash that kudos button, leave a comment, send them heart emojis, share those fics and don't let them die in the dust!)

Share this post for a better world ❤️

[jadeacereigen]

i also always felt like the fandom depicting reigen's childhood as abusive and neglectful never really quite fit. i know that most of it is probably just projection, and it's something i really understand because i've done it before with other characters.

i feel like there's a difference between giving a character trauma that makes sense when taking their canon self into account and giving a character trauma for other unrelated reasons, like comfort or even for fun, to be able to explore the scenarios that would come with it. both are very valid. let the people do what they want, y'know?

but something i feel like people tend to gloss over sometimes is that parents can fuck up when raising you and still not be outright shitty evil people. they can judge you on your career choices and still love you. your friends can make an off the cuff comment that ends up sticking with you in a bad way without realizing, people can suck at showing they care about you while still caring about you, they can be imperfect just as much as you are. it's their first time on this earth too. and it doesn't excuse the times they may have hurt you or made you feel bad about yourself, but it's up to you if you wanna keep them in your life. everyone can change, but that's also up to them.

it gives reigen an added charm [or should i say humanity?], to know that he is a flawed person and that it stems from the things that happened when he was younger, and the people that were in his life, and to know that things don't need to be catastrophic for them to affect and/or change you, whether good or bad. it's a good thing to remember i think. to know that there's so many greys between the white and black. that he has layers. his experiences are very valid.

anywho. sorry for the long ramble i just had to get this out there hehe.

ask game time!!!! 25, 9 and 22

Oh my god no don't apologize you're so right. I agree 100% so I'm gonna answer with my own long ramble.

(Discussions of child abuse below, though nothing that's not present in MP100 canon.)

Yes, it almost feels like people want to dismiss all flawed parenting and strained relationships between parent and child as abuse. There's certainly something very wrong with Reigen and his parents' relationship but I'm gonna be honest, I don't understand how people can find redemption in Toichiro who literally beat up his own son but then at the same time demonize Reigen's parents for the crime of disapproving his life as a CONMAN.

Yes, Reigen actually helps his clients and refuses to take money for things he cannot fix, but he's an incredibly special case and his parents are like most people who have no clue that the supernatural is even real. I personally think IRL psychics are full of shit and prey on the naive and emotionally vulnerable. If I had a kid who quit their normal job and spent all their savings to become a psychic I would not be happy with them! I would hope I wouldn't be as cold and that they wouldn't live in fear of my messages to them but I would definitely be encouraging them to stop that shit and get a "real job". To think that his parents should support his choices in life when he's pretending to be a psychic with no additional context is wild to me. (Also, I can't find the translation anymore but Reigen says in the fanbook that his mom thinks he's being tricked into doing his current job.) Again, they could go about this in a much better way but this disapproval does not inherently point to abuse.

(Sorry this rant got very long so everything else is below the cut.)

I think the biggest thing that points to Reigen's parents not being as awful as they are in fan content is that even after Reigen gets publicly exposed for being a con artist, his mom does tell him to learn his lesson from this but she also takes the time to prepare him an apology, tells him that he should come home (instead of telling him he's not welcome home/disowning him) and emphasizes that she's on his side. Maybe you could consider that the bare minimum of a decent parent but this to me just doesn't feel like she's the hateful abusive mother so often depicted. She could be warmer about it but she's obviously super concerned and wants Reigen to know she cares about him regardless of his actions.

(As for his dad, all we know is that he and Reigen don't talk to each other at all and that he thinks Reigen is unemployed. This relationship is definitely worse than Reigen and his mom's but there's little to go off of in terms of if his dad is a terrible parent or not. His mom seems to think he's worried about Reigen and that would definitely not surprise me.)

In terms of how Reigen feels about his parents, in the fanbook he acknowledges that there have been misunderstandings from both sides and that he'd like to talk things out with them and visit them more often. That's such a real thing lots of people can relate to and I'd love to see that get explored! I want to see Reigen patch things up with his parents! Maybe I'll write out my stupid fic idea for it idk.

I also don't want to stereotype but I am from an East Asian family myself and grew up surrounded by others so I feel like it's safe for me to say that Reigen's parents really remind me of your typical older generation of Asian parents. (Reigen was born in 1984 so his parents would definitely be of the boomer ilk, potentially even the Silent Generation if they had him on the older side.) Reigen also says in the fanbook that his parents are very serious people. Oftentimes with that older generation they just don't really show their care the way you'd normally see it. There may never be any "I love yous" but they'll cut you a plate of fruit without you asking or remember the show you liked 10 years ago and assume you're still into it...

Of course, parental norms in a culture don't justify hurtful parenting. (I mean just watch Everything Everywhere All At Once if you want to see the pain of having a disapproving Asian parent despite knowing they love you and just want what they think is best for you.) His mom fussing over his job and his lack of a girlfriend may be a super "Asian parent" thing, but it definitely hurts Reigen's feelings and she should cut that out. So yeah, Reigen's parents could do a lot better in terms of making Reigen feel supported and loved regardless if they approve of his life choices or not, but Reigen wants to patch things up with them for a reason and I'm hopeful that they can all reach a better understanding with each other.

One thing I also wish the anime showed was that Reigen's mom talks to him on the phone after Separation Arc! We see that in this omake:

Reigen definitely didn't tell his parents his phone number or his home address if his mom had to resort to emailing his business address just to talk to him. But I like to think that after Separation Arc he started letting his mom into his life a bit more...

God this was such a long rant, I'm sorry. One final thing before I get to your questions is that if we really need abusive parents to hate, Teru's non-present parents are ripe for the picking... Just saying.

(ask game)

I'm assuming you mean Reigen for all of these btw

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Gosh I initially thought he was just a silly goofy character who could be annoying and pathetic at times, but I enjoyed his presence on-screen. Then he got deeper in the Season 1 finale and showed just how much he truly cared about Mob... That part definitely got me shook. He only got better and better from there and now he's one of my favorite characters in the story.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Jesus christ uh I definitely don't think he'd be a bad roommate and we'd probably get along just fine but I also think I'd annoy the shit out of him. I'm not the best at keeping my space neat and clean. Also the thought of meeting Reigen in person is actually terrifying... Reigen should never exist outside the world of fiction because his pure chaos would be too much for reality.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

Hmm I answered what I don't like last time, but I do like fics that explore his relationship with Mob or Serizawa. I also like seeing him confront more of his personal issues and grow as a person even if he gets a little hurt in the process-

[repo-net]

How do you think Nagisa would react if the other warriors were the mastermind instead of Monaca

Oooh, that's a fun question. Thanks for submitting it, anon!

I'm going to assume that you mean if any of three other WoH had Monaca's ideals and goals rather than the pickle herself? I've actually never given this one much thought until you submitted it, but I'm always down to explore/give my own take on Nagisa's relationships with the other three kiddos.

To generalize the points I'll make, I think the one thing that'll stick with Nagisa finding out that Masaru/Jataro/Kotoko was pulling the strings is that he'd be able to stand his ground much, much better than how he took it when Monaca revealed her true motives, and he'd likely be able to keep himself composed; at least until the matter of expectations gets brought up.

Although Nagisa loves those three dearly and would put himself in danger before letting any of them get harmed, Monaca was a special attachment that he had. I've said this in previous posts, but I do think Nagisa's kind of had a hunch that there's something wrong with Monaca, and one reason why becoming leader meant so much to him is that maybe with that authority he can convince her to get to a paradise without like, committing a full-blown genocide.

I'll surrender that It's a little hard to imagine the three of them actually having it in them to lead something as diabolical as Monaca's plans, but maybe my imagination just isn't wild enough, eheh.

For the sake of storytelling, I think how this would play out in terms of the other Warriors getting sic'ed would be:

Chapters 1-2 are occupied by the two from Masaru/Jataro/Kotoko that aren't the mastermind, while Nagisa takes the lead in Chapter 3 and tries to deal with Komaru and Toko before realizing that he can't beat them, so Chapter 4 starts off with him as usual - trying to get both of them to leave Towa City before the eventual confrontation with one of the three other WoH being the mastermind. As for where Monaca would fit into all this, uhh. No clue. But she isn't really an important factor in this post.

Individually though, Nagisa's reactions to the three other Warriors being masterminds...

Masaru

More than anything, he's actually shocked. Masaru being the one is what would take him off guard the most. While Monaca broke him; it was because he repressed/denied the possibility because he wanted to believe he could trust her. This is an option he never accounted for, and it's because Nagisa thinks Masaru would be too much of a dunce to pull something like this off.

The initial reaction would be something akin to dismissal, before realizing 'oh shit, he's actually serious?'. That's when the anger kicks in. Not so much fear, but just pure vexation at the fact that he of all people thought that something as insane as creating a second Junko would be a good idea.

Nagisa'll threaten Masaru that he'll tell on Monaca, but Masaru at this point likely doesn't care. This version of Masaru likely rules through power and would probably just bullrush through his enemies to get his way. I could honestly believe in the idea that he'd be cruel enough to show Komaru her parents' corpses in a similar fashion to how the pickle did it. (Actually, all three of them should be able to...)

This Nagisa would probably want to throw hands with Masaru because his opinion on Masaru already isn't the greatest and he gets annoyed by him pretty easily; but having a reason to go from 'well he's kind of annoying but he's still a good friend to me' to actually hating him - it's a transition that gives Nagisa motivation to actually fight back. Though he'll probably realize soon enough that trying to hurt a P.E kid when the one thing you flunked in school is P.E would be a terrible idea...

Though self-doubt issues would surface, Nagisa would find it easier to deny Masaru's taunts and telling him that nobody expects anything from him in comparison to being told the same ideas by Monaca. This version of Nagisa likely makes it past Chapter 4 because he runs off to Monaca. Kotoko and Jataro are absent here, so Monaca and Nagisa would probably alarm Tokomaru about what's about to go down.

Jataro

"He was always kind of strange, but to think that this is what he had in mind all along...?" - That's what would settle in. Unlike with Masaru's reveal, Jataro's would make Nagisa put things into perspective for a bit as he realizes that maybe all those gross things Jataro told him were his actual thoughts and not just ways to get Nagisa to hate him.

Heck, I think he'd genuinely be wondering at first if this is just another one of Jataro's ways to get Nagisa to hate him, because Nagisa's aware enough to realize that Jataro might think Nagisa doesn't hate him unlike the other Warriors because he's been far more patient with him and doesn't pick on Jataro.

This one would have a much softer Nagisa - he'd ask if any of the other Warriors have been going overboard with their teasing/bullying and that's what's making Jataro act out like this. Even when he's already showing himself off to be evil, Nagisa would still be concerned for mask boy's well-being.

(Actually, that could be a motive for why a MM!Jataro would want to pursue a second gen Junko, no? Maybe because Junko was the only one who seemed to care for him/give him what he really wants, and now Jataro wants to have something akin to that now that Junko's gone.)

Eventually, Nagisa'll realize that Jataro's a lost cause and he'll turn his back on him. With Masaru and Kotoko absent from the Warriors here; he again tells on Monaca - but as strange as it may sound, I think Jataro would be much more eager to go after Nagisa and make sure he doesn't ruin his plans than Masaru. Nagisa still seeming to harbor some sort of pity instead of hatred towards Jataro would push the latter over the edge and he might just finish the job himself. Though of course, all of this is just speculation on my end.

Kotoko

All the masks finally come off here. And out of all three - Nagisa would be pretty quick to believe in the idea that Kotoko was puppeting the strings all along. This is less because of an inherent bias against her, thinking that she's always been evil; but rather that if anyone had the capacity to be so violently cruel, it'd be the one who's been an actress since she was born.

I feel as though the sequence of events that would play out are pretty similar to how it goes down with Monaca, and that's because Kotoko would know how to push all the buttons to set Nagisa off, and she already has the attitude/malice to pull it off if she were a much darker character than her canon self.

Since Kotoko knows how to push Nagisa over the edge and break him like Monaca did in canon; Nagisa's reaction here mirrors how he is in UDG proper - utterly defeated, but this time it's because Kotoko would taunt him, telling him that nobody would ever believe him if he tried to snitch on her, because who would trust the smart, calculating Nagisa over sweet, innocent Kotoko, right?

She'd also be able to lure Nagisa into doing her bidding in a similar fashion to Nagisa's - Nagisa doesn't have it in him to hurt Kotoko and she's fully aware of Monaca's crush on Nagisa; but instead of childishly teasing him over it, it's using it against him - maybe something along the lines of threating to harm Monaca if Nagisa tries to tell her/betray Kotoko.

Because of that, Nagisa's fate here is likely the same as it is in UDG. Gets 'crushed' by a robot at the end, never to be seen again.

[9w1ft]

The birdcages, the glass boxes (adding 'You' to the list), the money grabs and endless merch... Has anyone explored the theory that she is being controlled & possibly sold out ('dont take the money' ref in bejeweled)...? Her constantly trying to tell us things aren't what they appear.

I still worry about the dynamic shown in Miss Americana btwn her and her dad. Could he be the real reason she's trapped in her cage? I guess we'll never know the behind the scenes but can't help but look at that relationship with a side eye.

Because let's be real, she clearly doesn't say everything she wants to say.

firstly i think there is a distinction people need to make between taylor being metaphorically trapped and taylor being actually trapped. i think that disagreements with any family member can hurt because we are born wanting to be loved by them, and from that clip we can see that taylor cares about getting her parents on the same page as her.

and idk i think it’s just that taylor is a global pop star sensation with an operation similar to all the global pop star sensations that have come before her. and i think she is so successful at what she does because of the business mind that she has and her ability to make choices that put her success before any desire to share things that might be perceived by her and her stakeholders to hinder her success.

i think it’s important to remember that she has various people and entities who are stakeholders invested financially in her success. and she is running a company, employing people, paying their salaries, etc, through her work, so she has to take a whole ecosystem into an account when making choices, and i am sure there’s an official board of people involved in a lot of the decision making process.

she mentions “i took the money” in youre in your own kid, so i think the idea of her ‘selling out’ is something that she felt she did from a young age, and we can see her revisit this theme in a lot of her interviews, the lwymmd video, the miss americana documentary etc. i think here, selling out is just the abstract idea of putting ‘commercial success’ above ‘artistic integrity’ in decision making but it’s not a lever you pull only once. we are all a summation of little decisions over our lives, maybe some moments are more defining than others but for the most part we are all a mix of putting others before ourselves and ourselves before others.

as for merch, i just think that not everything can take priority and unfortunately right now QA is not a priority for her team. people always laude rep era merch for being so high quality and personally i think that was something extra important to her because it was her comeback album and i can imagine her wanting so many details to be on point so as not to start little fires concerning her public image. now she is in a new season of life where she feels the need to prioritize other things. and in a way i’m alright with it though because i feel less torn about not buying everything because i don’t want to buy everything 😆 i’d rather be on the hunt for the few things that stand out to me.

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).

[gffa]

Last time I went about five months between doing a set of STAR WARS fic recs, this time it’s only been three months! Hurrah! It helps that, as always, this fandom puts out an incredible amount of excellent fic, so I feel like I’m never hurting for fics I want to yell about and shove at people, which is something I continue to appreciate as it often feels like so much of the world is such a huge tire fire. It helps to be able to find fics to retreat into, to have fun with, to express joy and creativity with, and so many of the authors in this fandom are just so good at this! To the point that these sets sometimes take awhile because there are always more fics I want to add, until the post starts threatening to be overly long instead of a decent length–in my defense, no seriously, you guys are just too good! Also, I forced myself to stop at 69 fic recs, because yes I do think it’s funny. (Nice.) STAR WARS FIC RECS: PREQUELS RECS: ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & dooku & yoda & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 4k    This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & jedi & ocs, 61k    Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k    After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 8.7k    During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, depa & caleb, 1.4k    Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ desecrate my lungs by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 16k wip    Time-travel fix-it in which Mustafar haunts Anakin decades after it happened and years before it would. ✦ Grace by dismantlingsummer, obi-wan & anakin, 2.3k    Shortly after Mustafar, Anakin realizes what he has done. He finds Obi-Wan to beg for death. ✦ Fifth Migration by wrennette, yoda & mace & obi-wan & ki-adi & yarael & coleman & plo & palpatine & cast, 2k    How about an AU where the Sith’s Grand Plan accounted for everything -everything that is, except the fact that the Jedi temple is actually an very ancient spacecraft and the second word got to the Jedi about there being clones on Kamino, all Jedi are called back inside and they take off immediately? Just imagine the dear chancellor’s face… ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & sabe & mace & quinlan & cast, 9.8k    A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Mind Your Words by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 7k    Obi-Wan reminds Anakin that there are consequences for careless behavior for young Jedi on missions. ✦ (you taught me) the courage of stars by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, 5.1k wip    Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.) ✦ they faked it (guess everything’s complicated) by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.5k    Ahsoka temporarily loses memories of the events of Obi-Wan’s fake death. To help with the healing process, Anakin and Obi-Wan have to pretend that they’re okay. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, body horror, 1.3k    The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ Unpleasant Truths by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    Obi-Wan and Anakin are stuck in a room with one another while waiting for truth serum to wear off. ✦ moment’s silence by skatzaa, obi-wan & owen & beru & luke & leia (pre-obi-wan/beru-owen), 2k    Owen had long since resigned himself to trouble, whenever Beru got that particularly stubborn set to her jaw. ✦ hold gently and let go by shatou, obi-wan & anakin (pre-slash?), 1.7k    A troubled Anakin comes to Obi-Wan to discuss attachments. ✦ sun child by Ro29, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    (or; sometimes being so tied to the Force causes problems, Obi-Wan helps his Padawan as best he can) ✦ A Dinner Out by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & cast, 1.6k    Obi-Wan can’t get his young Padawan to eat much, so he tries something new. But trying something different has unintended consequences. ✦ Shades in the Desert by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & luke & owen/beru, 10.8k    Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine. ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, major character death, 3.8k    It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & younglings, ~1k    The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k    As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. ✦ on sith holocrons and misunderstandings by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & cast, de-aged!obi-wan, 7.2k    or, de-aged!Obi-Wan has the same Force bonds as adult Obi-Wan, and he does not react well. ✦ Perseverance & Resilience by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k    In the aftermath of Naboo, Obi-Wan realizes he needs strength to protect his new Padawan. Growing up, Anakin needs peace. ✦ A Delicate Balance by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & yoda & jedi, spanking, 9.6k    As Anakin’s skills grow, so too does his penchant for getting into trouble. After a training mishap, Obi-Wan struggles with his role as Anakin’s master. ✦ mirror, mirror by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, 5.4k    Obi-Wan has been rescued by Anakin after being rather embarrassingly kidnapped on the remote planet of Ilnuria during his investigation of rumored kyber crystals deep beneath the planet’s surface. …But is all as it seems? ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & ponds & cody & jedi & cast, 12.5k    Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ begin again as a quiet thought by skatzaa, obi-wan/quinlan, d/s, ~1k    Cool, smooth leather touched his jaw—gloves. Because of course Obi-Wan had thought of that as well. ✦ Drunken Lullabies by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin & siri & quinlan & aayla & garen & bant & ferus, 6.5k    “Do I really have to go to this thing?” Fourteen year old Anakin Skywalker dramatically sighed. “It’s sooo boring!” ✦ heaven knows how I love you by the_13th_battalion, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k    Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are stranded on an unfamiliar planet overnight. They spend their time exploring the community- and maybe they get a little closer to each other along the way. ✦ A Reckless Padawan by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, spanking, 3.9k    When Ahsoka upsets Anakin with an act of reckless disobedience, it falls to her grandmaster to help her see the error of her ways. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k    Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ Nostos by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, 17k    Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin discover that there are many ways to come home. ✦ to touch the light, darkest by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k    Obi-Wan begins to fuck Vader back to the light ✦ encode by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & padme & handmaidens & cast, 26.3k wip    Instead of being accepted into the Jedi Order at the age of 9, Anakin Skywalker became a ward of Naboo. ✦ Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs, obi-wan/anakin & mace & ahsoka & shmi & padme & cast, 31.9k wip    When Anakin Skywalker was nine, he left his whole life and mother behind to follow Qui-Gon Jinn to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. When Anakin Skywalker was twelve, he left his whole life and Master behind to follow Mace Windu to the Outer Rim and away from the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker was twenty… ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 44.7k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can’t refuse. These things are, actually, related. ✦ Over and Over by obiwanobi, obi-wan/anakin, 1.4k    “I love you,” he blurts out, loud and impossible to miss. Obi-Wan blinks once, twice. And freezes. The first time Anakin tells him is a mortifying experience. ✦ Exceptions by rinverse, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & quinlan & cast, NSFW, modern au, 23.4k    Young and brilliant, Anakin is the mind behind JEDI Tech’s latest innovation. Obi-Wan is the company’s perfectly composed Director of PR & Marketing. And last night, they were just two strangers at a bar, looking for something quick and easy. But life had other plans when it crossed their paths again the very next day. ✦ Here There Be Dragons by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 10.1k    Anakin knows why he can’t shift into his animal form like every other Jedi. It’s because he doesn’t want to, it’s because he’s had a vision of what he would become, and he doesn’t want it. ✦ Waiting in a Sea of Stars by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan/anakin, ~1k    Stranded in deep space, Obi-Wan and Anakin wait for rescue. ✦ Tristitia by JSwander, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 5k    An alternate timeline where Palpatine focuses his attentions on Obi-Wan Kenobi instead of Anakin Skywalker after the attack on Naboo. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 11: Communication, What Communication? by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, mobster au, 7k    a 7k obikin PWP that is somehow a prompt mashup of a mobster au, an accidental sugar daddy au, with a soupçon of an anakin never left tatooine au, and a pinch of qui-gon was anakin’s dad au ✦ who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, spanking, 3.6k    Anakin purposely avoids doing what Obi-Wan tells him to do. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 12: Potidaea, 432BC, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, historical au, 4.3k    Here is a short smutty scene inspired by all those classics asks, Alcibiades praising Socrates in Plato’s Symposium, and this vase c.490-480 B.C. depicting standing, face-to-face intercrural intercourse between a bearded man and a youth, which as far as we can tell was the most common and accepted position for it in Ancient Greece. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 13: Minikin and Tiny-Wan by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5.4k    Happy May the Fourth! In honor of this happy day, I have written the fluffiest, crackiest, vanilla-flavored smut imaginable. Based on long discussions on discord with tomicaleto about her adorable Tiny AU. ✦ to hold until brightness by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.4k    Obi-Wan feared that it drew out the darkest in him, to bring Vader to these flashes of light, but it was a trade he would make again and again without hesitation. ✦ May Be Found, If Sought by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan/anakin & mace & quinlan, magical academy au, 2.3k    In which Quinlan, Mace, and Obi-Wan teach Non-Traditional Magical Philosophy in an institution rampant with academic snobbery and discrimination, something dark is stirring in the nearby forest, and no one is ever prepared for Anakin Skywalker. A small story about first meetings in magical academia. ✦ infinitely varied by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 2.2k    Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. ✦ recipe for disaster by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 9.8k    When Ahsoka tells Anakin she doesn’t want to learn piano anymore, Anakin is heartbroken. He doesn’t care about the instrument, obviously, but he’s practically in love with her teacher. Obi-Wan offers up a solution to their impending separation, and it’s not dating like any normal person would suggest. Instead, he’s gonna teach Anakin how to cook. Except Anakin’s a pretty well-known chef, and Obi-Wan is absolutely awful in the kitchen. ✦ Pretty Kitty by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.2k    “Master, you always take such good care of me,” Anakin says, a little chirp coming after his sentence, as his thumb rests on Anakin’s plump bottom lip. ✦ As One, Into Eternity by Pseudonymoose, obi-wan/anakin, force ghosts, 3.1k    Death comes, but the man who was, and is, and will be Anakin Skywalker is not gone. And in the Force, he will never be alone again. ✦ does he make you laugh? by y0u_idjits, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, fusion fic, 3.6k    “Tell me it’s not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your husband.” ✦ Rotten Work by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, 2.8k    Obi-Wan: I’ll take care of you. Anakin, with bloodshot eyes and a broken back from hours of terrible posture: It’s rotten work. Obi-Wan, who needs to bathe this man for his own sanity and health: Not to me. Not if it’s you. ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k    Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ understanding is honoring the truth beneath the surface by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 7.3k    Anakin asks Obi-Wan to take control. ✦ The strongest stars… by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin & beru & cast, NSFW, 7.4k    The war’s end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple. ✦ home has a heartbeat by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, 5.6k    Or: Anakin and Obi-Wan are together, but there are still some things left unsaid between them. ✦ turn back now (i’m haunted) by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & quinlan & ahsoka & cast, modern au, ghosts au, 25k wip    Anakin Skywalker’s house is haunted. Luckily for him, Padmé knows a ghost hunter. Unluckily for him, it’s the hottest, most english-professor ghost hunter he’s ever seen. And extremely unluckily for him, he’s starting to get the feeling he understands maybe ten percent of what’s actually going on here, not to mention what’s at stake. ✦ game plan by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.2k    Or, Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It’s kind of a thing. ✦ Provocation by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.9k    Or: Obi-Wan and Anakin attempt to navigate their complicated relationship with barbed words and wilful ignorance. It wasn’t going well. ✦ Languages by Crowgirl, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.5k    So Anakin pulls out a map and makes a list. REBELS RECS: ✦ The Scent of You by ambiguously, kanan/hera & cast, a smidge of nsfw, 2.9k    Everything changes after Malachor, and Kanan has trouble finding his balance. ✦ Heard It in a Love Song (Can’t Be Wrong) by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 2.7k    Kallus can’t quite figure out what makes Zeb tick, but he keeps trying. ORIGINAL TRILOGY/MANDALORIAN RECS: ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & mace, 2k    Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. ✦ staring down the barrel of the hot sun by magneticwave, luke/din & obi-wan & grogu & mace & cast, 25.7k    “Gone to a Child of the Watch, the Darksaber has,” Grand Master Yoda announces in his creaky little voice. “Peace, there is not, and yet peace, there must be.” ✦ Released by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & rex & luke & cast, 6k    Nearly two and a half decades late, Cody’s chip is finally removed. Adjusting to having his mind returned to him after so long takes time, and Cody struggles with questions of his purpose of the past, present, and future. Fortunately, he does not have to struggle alone. ✦ A Tatooine Rainstorm by skatzaa, leia & luke & shmi, 1.7k    Leia meets a ghost. ✦ Dealing with the Darksaber by Peppermint_Shamrock, din & bo-katan & cara, 1.3k    After her recovery, Bo-Katan contacts Din to challenge him for the darksaber. Din is still very much not interested in the whole affair. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE

[allyouneedisbuck]

i don’t wanna do this (i don’t wanna lose this)

eighteen plus blog minors dni

summary -> it’s all fake, every piece of it scripted and perfected for the camera, even the upcoming break-up you pretend doesn’t break your heart.

words -> 2.5k

warnings -> fake relationship, use of name (bucky calls the reader by her character’s name, lucia, once) nickname uses (baby, sweetheart) co-workers/friends to lovers, no smut, not beta’d

notes -> this is for the lovely maera’s ( @ambrosiase ) hotel indigo writing challenge i absolutely love this idea mae and am so appreciative that you created this challenge, it really pushed me out of my comfort zone and i got to explore an entirely new au.  

room & service -> business meets pleasure with celebrity bucky barnes -> bucky and reader are co-stars in a fake relationship in a hotel for their final comic-con together.

— ➶ —

Bucky has been doing interviews with Sam all day today. 

You’ve been working together for six seasons and have both been to too many comic-cons to count. Every single one of them you and Bucky had been paired up to do interviews and photo-ops together. 

A scripted piece of a scripted relationship. Agreed upon when your characters romance began to pick up popularity and designed to look perfect until the end.

Tomorrow an article with be released ‘leaking’ the details of your perfect break-up too. A source close to the both of you will comment that wrapping of the show and being forced to go long distance just wasn’t working for you two. The writer will supply photos of today, the two of you avoiding sitting near one another and not speaking. They’ll write that their source confirmed this convention is actually the first time you’ve seen each other in months. 

Even more articles have already been planted periodically questioning whether the two of you were still together, generating buzz around the show and what happens between your characters. It’s a brilliant job, honestly.

Except, you and Bucky had been in a fake relationship for so long, it had begun to feel real. This distance between you two felt purposeful in a way that hurt you more than it ever should have. 

Your assistant is supposed to go through your instagram soon and begin archiving posts and pieces of your fake life with Bucky. He’s been glaringly absent from your social media recently and it makes your heart ache at the idea of him being nonexistent.

Your fans have noticed too. You read comment after comment all asking the same thing; What happened to you and Bucky? 

“Oh, Lucia! My dear, Lucia.” You bite down a grin at the sound of Bucky’s voice through your door. His words were filtered by the wall between you and a little slurred from the drinks he had no doubt consumed at the hotel bar. “Open the door, please.” 

You lock your phone and lay it on the bed beside you. “I’m busy, Bucky! Go bother Sam.” You call back despite already walking towards the door. 

“Bother Sam? On our last night together?” You can see Bucky smile teasingly though the peephole. Despite his joking tone the words hurt. “Four years together and this is how things end? Through a hotel room door?” 

His fist comes up to bang against the door and a hand comes up to his heart. He’s putting on a show for you, fully away of your eye watching carefully through the peephole. “How much have you had to drink, Bucky Barnes?” You ask as the door remains closed. 

Bucky holds his fingers up in a pinch too small to be true. “Not much.” When his hand falls back to his side he smiles up at the peephole. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.” 

You melt, becoming putty in his hand as you quickly move to unlatch the door. “I’ve missed you too.” You admit to him, face to face, as you lean against the door jam. 

A smirk replaces Bucky’s sweet smile as his hands reach out to grip your hips. “This break-up is tough on me, baby.” He pushes you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “One more night. One last time. You and me.” 

“Shut up!” You force his hands off of you and turn towards the mini bar in your room. “You’re such a dweeb. I’m glad we’re breaking up.” You pull out the miniature bottle of wine and twist the top off. 

Bucky’s hand slams across his chest as he falls against the wall in dramatic fashion. “You’re… Glad? My frail heart can’t take it,” he falls to his knees, “Please. Tell my mother, I loved her.”

You watch, unamused, as Bucky falls to the floor in front of you. “You’re obnoxious.” A beaming smile breaks out onto Bucky’s face that makes you grin.

“I was serious, about missing you.” Bucky moves to sit up with his back against the edge of your bed. You move to sit beside him on the floor. “These junkets and photos just aren’t the same without you by my side, cracking jokes in my ear.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too. I love Wanda, but it’s just not the same.” You admit quietly.

There’s so much that you want to say to him. What if this wasn’t fake? What if we didn’t go through with the break-up plan? “Did they send you our social media plan?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You swallow thickly, “I have my assistant going through my account for me soon. We’re supposed to start untagging and deleting photos of each other this week.”

Bucky snorts. “How fucking sweet. Four years together and they have us untag each other to confirm a break up.” His fingers tap against his thigh as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor together.

“Has it really been four years?” You ask quietly. It’s more of a question to yourself, but Bucky answers it with a nod anyways.

“My longest relationship ever and it was fake.” Bucky’s awkward laugh makes the air tense as he stares down at his hands. “I’ve wasted so much of my life. So many chances gone.”

You know the words aren’t said with ill intent, but that doesn’t stop the crack from forming in your heart. You can’t fathom the idea of all your time together, fake or not, being a waste.

Your eyes cut away from him in embarrassment. “Was it really all a waste?” You ask quietly. The words are unintentional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re out in the air.

“What?” You can feel his eyes settle on you in an attempt to read your face or body language, but a career in acting comes in handy. Your back is ramrod straight and your face turned away perfectly to hide the emotions in your eyes. “It was fake when we could have had something real with people we actually cared about.”

It’s a knife to your broken heart. “People we actually care about?”

“You know, like, other girls and guys who we wanted to pursue but couldn’t because of the contract.” Bucky reaches out to wrap a hand around yours, but you pull away. “I don’t understand what’s wrong here.”

You shake your head, the regret of your words settling over you. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s been a long day.” You use the edge of the bed to help you stand while Bucky remains on the floor, watching you in confusion. “I’m tired, you should go.”

“Woah. What’s this one-eighty?” Bucky stands too and follows you as you move around to gather your toothbrush and skincare. “Two seconds ago we were joking about a fake break-up and now you’re all quiet and weird? You expect me to just leave?”

“Please.” You plead. The last thing you want to do is dump all your feelings out to Bucky, on the last day you two were officially contracted to each other, and make him feel guilty for feeling free. “I just need to be alone, Buck.”

You move to push past him towards your bathroom, but Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this closing yourself off thing.”

“I’m not.” You say stubbornly. “I’m tired.” You try again to move past him, but his grip only tightens as he forces you to actually face him. “Buck-“

“You can tell me, you know?” He says quietly as his grip slackens. Your eyes meet his, pools of blue staring back at you with something akin to hurt. “You can trust me. We’re best friends, right? You’re my-“

“You don’t have to lie to me, Bucky. Pretend to care. You can go back to the bar and…” You pull your hand from him and cross your arms over your chest. “And tomorrow we can start being with people we actually care about.”

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as his own words are repeated back and left out in the open between you two. “That’s not what I…”

“What did you mean then?” You cut him off. You want to sound angry, but your tone is sad and tired. “Enlighten me, please.”

“I just meant… I meant we could date who we wanted to date, I didn’t mean for it to sound so awful.” He answers quietly. “I care about you a lot. We’ve been friends for over half a decade, of course I care about you.”

You swallow thickly. “What if I don’t want to date anyone else?” You force yourself to ask. If not now, then when? Ten years from now at a reunion of your show? You couldn’t live with this what if.

“What?” Bucky’s hand falls from your wrist as he takes a step back like your words have burned him.

You push through the thundering of your heart and ringing in your ears to ask, “haven’t you ever thought about it? I mean, four years of just us, all those dates and premieres, was it really all just work for you?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw as you stare at him expectantly. “Have you?”

“I asked the question I think that would imply…” You trail off as his answer weighs down on your mind. It feels like a no. No. No. No. It’s on repeat in your mind as you move to sit down on your bed. “After a while the dates and photos and sappy posts didn’t feel all that forced anymore.” You admit quietly.

Bucky paces silently in front of you. You’re unsure of what’s going through his mind as he does it and it’s all you can do to not tap anxiously as you watch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asks when he finally pauses in front of you. You look up at him unsure of what to say. “I mean… When did you start…” He trails off like he doesn’t want the answer.

You look down at your hands in your lap. Despite your worries in telling Bucky you guess you had never truly thought of this conversation ending up this way. All these questions felt like Bucky preparing for a gentle rejection.

“I don’t know. After our second anniversary?” You keep your answer to him vague despite you being fully aware of when you started seeing Bucky differently. “That post you wrote for me that day. All the ones after. All of those words were fake?”

Your mind drifts to his words that day. The sweet and short caption had made butterflies erupt as you scrolled through the photos he had posted with it. Despite you both being required to post something, the photos he had chosen had been entirely genuine.

Pictures the two of you had taken together on set, selfies during your fake dates, and even a sweet set of photo booth pictures from your first premiere together.

You had stared at the post far too long as emotions rushed through you. Your heart raced at the idea of Bucky taking his time to pick photos that meant something to the both of you.

“I think that..” You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful reminders. “I think you should go.” You stand up suddenly, your hands pushing gently at his chest.

Bucky’s eyes widen as his hands come up grip your arms in an attempt to stop you. “Woah. Let’s talk about this. I’m just trying to figure everything out.”

“Figure it out? What is there to figure out, Bucky?” You cry out, shoving harder. “If you don’t know how you feel then you should figure it out on your own.” You move past him to open the door.

Bucky follows after you hastily. “Sweetheart, wait, please. I just need a moment.” You grip his forearms tightly using Bucky’s own momentum against him as you guide him to the hallway outside your room. “I wasn’t expecting this. We have articles and photos and interviews planned about a break-up tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Bucky.” The two of you are back where your night began. Opposite sides of the door as you stare, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? The article will be published and we’ll confirm it and life will move on.”

The door slams shut in his face without warning, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You stare blankly at the ugly, green shade its painted in silence as you remind yourself; It was all fake. A script you had been given and followed to a tee. One you had gotten too caught up in.

You’re feelings don’t change the ending.

There’s a slow knock on your door. You suck in a breath as you move to open it an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Bucky.” You’re cut off as his hands come up to rest on your cheeks and he pulls you towards him. Anything you had to say dissipates as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

Your hands come up to grip his t-shirt tightly as you kiss him back your tongue slipping into his mouth while he pulls you flush against his body.

An arm wraps around your waist and Bucky pushes you back into your room, his foot kicking your door closed harshly.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you finally pull away to look at Bucky, but he speaks before you can say anything.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” He breathes out. His eyes are wide with nerves and his cheeks flushed red. The sight of it mixed with his kiss makes your heart pound. “I’ve thought about kissing you for real, not in a room filled with crew and cameras. About what it would be like to be on a date where paparazzi hasn’t been tipped off. Baby,” his hands rest on your cheeks again as he forces your eyes to meet his, “I’ve thought about it all. What it would be like to be with you, to really be with you in every way. Sometimes it’s all I think about when we’re together.”

You take pause, your eyes widening and hands freezing in place as you listen to what he’s saying. “Why didn’t you say anything then? Why’d you just pace and ask me all those questions?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” He smiles brightly when you giggle. “Because I couldn’t believe you actually felt the same way. I was in shock.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You smile up at him softly. “What do we do about the article tomorrow?” You whisper your question.

You feel giddy with excitement as Bucky’s hands land on your hips to hold you in place, flush against him. “We deny it.”

“What about our managers?” Your smile doesn’t fade even as stress over the situation arises. “And…And our separate interviews tomorrow?”

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” Bucky smiles. “We’ll tell them all about how in love we still are. That the source in the article was a dud and we’ve just been private recently as the show wraps.”

“We will?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing at his words. “You want to say all that?”

Bucky nods his head. “I do.”

You don’t say anything else he leans in for another kiss, you could worry tomorrow.

Bonus -> The Next Day

liked by buckybarnes, samwilson and 134,759 others

yourinstagram the final season of our show premieres this weekend and we’re so excited for you all to see how it ends. the first photo is from tonight and the second from our first season! the past six years has brought me so much joy and i’m so grateful for everything this show has given me. most importantly though, i’m thankful for you, bucky barnes. my adrian to my lucia. my best friend. my lover. thanks for making this show so fun.

View all 15,398 comments

samwilson we made a great show. love you guys.

buckyfan thought y’all were a pr stunt lmao

yourinstagram apparently you’re not supposed to really fall in love for those to work…

buckybarnes i am most grateful for you. you made work worth it every god damn day.

yourfan my favorite couple on and off the screen.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is my first ever time joining a writing challenge, it really pushed me to work through block and focus on this instead of letting is die out like i have with other projects despite liking them so much!

(hoping you guys don’t hate the extra instagram idea, i just felt it fit in!)

hopefully you enjoyed and if you did, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[hangovercurse]

Falling Like the Stars

Pete and you had gotten in a fight the night before he left for filming, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your relationship.

Request: “pete and you take it to another room at a party 😉”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing, angst

A/N: This is (loosely) based off Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur

Word Count: 3038

In all eight months of your relationship with Pete, you’d never gone this long without talking. Your phone was right in front of you, his contact in your favorites. But you couldn’t be the first to fold.

It had been 3 and a half weeks, 25 days, since he left for filming. Since that stupid fight.

Maybe you pushed him too far, maybe you expected too much of him, but you’d been together for eight months. And you knew you loved him. The night before he left, he’d taken you out on the most romantic date you’d ever been on, and when you guys got back to your place, you told him you loved him. And he didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say anything, he just shut down. After you begged him to say something, anything, he just gave you a frustrated, “what do you want me to say?”

And thus, the fight ensued, you accusing him of not caring about your relationship and him yelling at you for pressuring him into something he wasn’t ready for.

And maybe you were in the wrong, but you were hurt. You had put everything on the line for him, every inch of your soul was bare to him. And he crushed it. So, you fought. And he left. And you hadn’t talked since except a text from him saying he landed safely.

It was killing you inside. But you couldn’t keep this going if he wasn’t as invested as you were. So, you left it up to him to make the first move.

In the meantime, you occupied your mind with work, television, and mindless scrolling through social media. Your timeline was filled with pictures of your fans, activism posts, and fan accounts of Pete that you followed. One post in particular caught your eye, a picture you didn’t even know the fans had.

It was a picture you had taken of Pete on your first date, the morning after the two of you had met. The memory made you smile.

You were outside on Colson’s balcony, taking hits of the cigarette in your hand and watching the crowd of drunken partygoers below you.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen walked out. His hair was dark, his eyes even darker. He seemed gentle, kind, but also like he could rip you to shreds without hesitation. It was intoxicating.

“Oh,” he said upon seeing you, “sorry I didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

You smiled, “you’re good. I don’t mind the company.” He nodded, coming to lean against the railing next to you. You offered him the cigarette, which he graciously took.

“What’s a girl like you doing up here all by herself?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, “a girl like me?” A smirk made its way to your face when he looked over at you, eyes raking over your figure.

“I mean, someone as stunning as you shouldn’t be up here all alone. You should be down there, stealing everyone’s breath.”

His comment made you blush slightly. “It’s a bit too much down there for me. I don’t mind all the people but none of them are gonna remember anything in the morning. I don’t want to be that person. I want to remember tonight.”

This time, his eyebrow raised. “Is tonight a special night for you?” He asked.

You bit your lip, turning to face him fully. “I’m not sure yet. You tell me.”

He moved closer to you, hand delicately touching your waist. You took his hesitancy as a question of permission, to which you responded by reaching a hand to run up his arm, stopping on his shoulder. The man smirked, moving even closer to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him quietly.

His head dipped down, lips meeting yours, and you closed your eyes, taking in the sensation. Your mouths moved together in sync as his grip on your waist got tighter, pulling you closer to him. You brought your second hand up to wrap around his neck, lifting yourself up on your toes to get better access to his plush lips.

He pulled away from you slowly as your eyes opened, finding his brown ones exploring your face. “I’m Pete.” He whispered, before connecting your lips again.

His hands squeezed your waist, lifting you up slightly. You took the hint and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as one hand moved up to support your back. He carried you back inside to the bedroom the balcony was attached to.

His mouth never left yours, his tongue lightly swiping against your lip. You granted him access, the feeling of your tongues colliding a pleasurable one, it made you feel even closer to him.

He set you onto the bed, finally detaching your lips. You whined as he stepped towards the door but stopped when his hand turned the lock. He chuckled at your neediness, rushing back to the bed, and climbing on top of you, forcing you to lay back onto the bed.

Your hands went to his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands. His hands traveled your middle, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He paused before pulling it up, making sure it was okay with you that he did so.

Once the fabric was removed to reveal your bra-clad chest, he smirked down at you, taking in your body. Pete let out a soft “wow,” that you probably weren’t supposed to hear.

It made you smirk, your hands removing the jacket from him before pulling his shirt over his head. The tattoos on his chest and arms revealed themselves, and you took a moment to admire them. Absentmindedly, you reached out to trace one on his arm, making him grin. Instead of saying anything, he reconnected your lips.

His bare skin on yours made heat run from every part of your body straight to your core. You could feel him hardening through his jeans, and you wanted nothing more than to rip them off. Pete had a similar idea, hands moving to unclasp your bra and he pulled the fabric from your skin. His hands remained there, massaging the tissue, and occasionally squeezing your hardening nipples with his fingers.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your mouth, moving his head down to press a soft kiss to your neck. One kiss turned into two, then three, and suddenly Pete was kissing a path to your breasts.

Once his lips connected with your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His teeth grazed the bud lightly, switching between each breast to give them both the attention they deserved.

The hands that you had tangled in his hair pulled lightly, nails scratching his skull in a way that drove him crazy. He finally left your chest, pressing sloppy kisses down your stomach until he reached the top of your jeans.

Pausing, he looked up at you. “Do you want this?” He asked, sweetly.

You bit your lip, looking down at him and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. “Yes, Pete. Please.” You asked, earning a smile from him. His hands unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down your legs slowly before tossing them across the room. He stood up and removed his own pants, leaving only two sets of thin cloth in between your heat and his member.

His face returned to its position at the top of your panties. He lightly nipped at the skin there, causing a small groan to escape your lips. He smirked, grabbing the top of your panties in his teeth, and dragging them downwards, exposing your pussy. He used his hands to help his mouth pull the material all the way down your legs, your panties soon joining the rest of your clothes on the floor somewhere.

You took in a breath when his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart. His breath hit your heat as he looked up at you, basking in the beauty of your expression. He’d barely touched you and you were already putty in his hands.

At this thought he brought his lips to your clit, sucking on the small bundle. At the contact you moaned out softly, hands gripping the sheets below you. His tongue peaked out to lick at your slit, slowly dipping into your heat.

He switched his focus from your slit to your clit and back intermediately, one hand eventually dancing up your thigh to join him. As his lips sucked on your clit his middle finger pressed into your wet hole. Another moan came from you as his long finger stretched you out.

He smiled against you when he heard your sounds as he pumped the digit in and out of you. When he felt you were ready, he added a second finger. Picking up his pace, he started curling his fingers as he pumped, hitting your walls.

You could feel your climax building, but he pulled out before you could get too close. He sat up on his knees, eyes finding yours. You watched as he slowly licked his fingers clean, climbing off the bed and finding his jeans. He grabbed a foil wrapper from one of the pockets and brought it back to the bed. He pulled his underwear down, exposing his long, hard dick.

You moaned at the sight, excited at the thought of him filling you up. He rolled the condom onto his member, pumping himself a few times. He lined himself up with your entrance, watching your face.

“You still want this?” He asked.

You loved how he kept asking, kept making sure this was okay with you. “Yes.” You let out, softly, the anticipation killing you.

At your consent, he pushed into you, slowly. His large cock filled you up, stretching your pussy out. Pete let out a quiet groan as you adjusted to him. His lips found their way to your neck again, hot breath hitting your skin.

He pulled out slowly, pushing back in as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbled into your skin. He thrusted into you again, harder this time. Your hands went to his back, gripping onto him.

Pete started picking up his pace, dick thrusting in and out of you harder every time. Your nails began to dig into his skin, definitely leaving marks. You let out small whimpers every time he hit the perfect spot in your tight pussy.

More kisses were placed on your neck as Pete pounded into you, your hips rolling up to meet his. The vibrations from his moans against your skin made everything feel so much better, and you knew you were getting close.

The feeling of his cock twitching alerted you to the fact that he was close, too. So, you let out a whine, “I’m close, Pete.”

He hummed against your neck, “me too, baby.” He continued to push you closer and closer to your climax, “mmm, feel so good around me princess.”

His lips came up to meet yours, tongue establishing dominance in your mouth. One hand found your breast, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The stimulations sent you closer and closer to the edge, until you could feel yourself at the tipping point.

The only sound in the room was your lips against his and the slapping of your skin as Pete’s cock filled you up more and more. His thrusts got sloppier and sloppier until he moaned against your lips, his hot seed filling the condom inside of you. The sensation sent you into an abyss of bliss, your orgasm crashing over you.

Your hips bucked into his as you came undone, his cock still thrusting into you but much lazier now. The feeling of a thousand pins spread through your body, creating a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Once you had both come down from your highs, he pulled out of you. He disposed of the condom and grabbed his underwear, pulling it on. He then tossed your panties and his shirt over to you, which you gladly put on.

Pete crashed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his side. You nuzzled into him, taking in his scent of cigarettes, sex, and chocolate. You pressed a kiss to the side of his chest, the closest place your lips could get to. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

“I figured instead of joining the lame ass party downstairs, we could steal this room for the night. Then maybe I can take you to breakfast in the morning?” He asked, watching for your reaction.

You looked up at him, a smile on his face, “I would really, really like that.”

Breakfast was, obviously, successful, as you and Pete went out for dinner the next day, and then two days after that. Eventually he was bringing you to meet his family and you introduced him to your co-workers. It wasn’t until he took you backstage to Saturday Night Live that he officially called you his girlfriend whilst introducing you to Colin Jost and Michael Che, but you had both been exclusively with each other since you’d met.

You frowned, thinking about those memories. God, you missed Pete. You should have never said anything, you should have just let it go. Now you might never get him back.

But every part of you craved him. You wanted him here to hold you and kiss you. You wanted him to buy you stupid gifts like he did sometimes. You wanted to talk about literally nothing but that be enough for you two.

You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to where it would often go to. You and Pete in a few years, buying a house together. Your kids playing in the backyard. Going to sports games and recitals with them, taking them to see Pete at work. Getting married in front of all of your friends and family.

You wanted all of it. You had never wanted that life before you met Pete, but now it was all you could think about. You didn’t know what your future would look like without Pete, and you didn’t want to know.

So, against your vow to yourself, you called him.

“Y/N?” He asked. He sounded tired, sad. Hearing him made you freeze; you’d missed his voice. “Is everything okay?”

You bit your lip before answering, your voice coming out as a whisper, “yeah I just, I just miss you, is all.”

Pete let out a sad sigh on the other end of the phone. “I miss you, too.” He said. “I should’ve called you, I just wanted to give you space. I know we didn’t leave off in a good place.”

You stayed quiet, tears coming to your eyes as you recalled the night again. “It’s okay, Pete. I shouldn’t have thrown that on you and I shouldn’t have pushed you to say… that.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You could tell Pete was thinking because he didn’t answer right away. “No, I- I shouldn’t have left you like that. We should’ve talked about it more.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, sniffling. “Pete it’s okay, really. I was in the wrong and I pushed you away. I made you leave.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve stayed.” You could hear the sadness in his voice and it broke your heart. He sighed, “princess, give me like five minutes and then we can talk about this more, okay?” You hummed into the receiver and the line went dead.

You sunk further into the couch, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt like you were crumbling into little pieces without him. And now he was avoiding important conversations with you.

You came to the realization that you should’ve made the night he left; he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought made you breakdown even more, your breathing quickening and sobs escaping you as you buried your face into your hands that were covered in the sleeves of Pete’s sweater.

A few minutes later you heard a knock on your door. Even though you were in no state to answer it, you did so anyways. You found your person standing there, shoulders hunched and eyes red. Pete held a teddy bear in one hand and a heart shaped box of chocolates in the other. He looked as good as ever, but also like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“I was literally pulling onto your street when you called me.” He chuckled as you led him inside. He set the teddy bear and chocolates on your coffee table, pulling you onto the couch next to him. “I couldn’t stand how we left things so I asked for the next few days off so that I could come see you.” He grabbed your hand lacing your fingers together.

“I mean seriously, Y/N. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even focus on the movie because I was just always thinking about you. It was terrifying.”

You smiled a little bit, scooting closer to him. When you spoke, your voice came out hoarse, “I missed you so much.” You couldn’t believe that he was actually here. That he had flown back to New York just to see you. “I’m sorry I made you leave and didn’t say goodbye.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his. “I’m sorry that I was too scared to tell you how I feel.” You gave him a quizzical look. “I was so fucking scared of admitting it to myself, much less to you. But I know now, I’m sure now.”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered.

He leaned in close to you, breath hitting your lips, “I’m not scared anymore.” He said, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, short kiss. “I’m in love with you, princess.”

Your breath got caught in your throats as the words you’d been aching to hear fell from his lips. You leaned forward, kissing him again. “So fuckin in love with you.” He mumbled.

You rested your forehead against his, breaths intertwining. “I love you, Pete.”

[ashesandhackles]

Harry And Personal Conflict: A Meta On Evolving Dynamic With Ron and Hermione

One of my last metas on Harry was how his abuse at the Dursleys informed who he is as a person and a lot of his main personality traits. This time, I want to explore Harry's relationship with conflict, mostly in regard to his best friends - Ron and Hermione.

First things first, because of his abusive upbringing where he is constantly in conflict with his caregivers, conflict is seen as Bad Thing when we first meet him as a 11 year old. And it informs how he reacts to both Ron and Hermione at first. He instantly relates to Ron because Ron is an underdog - a boy who feels neglected and passed over in his large and boisterous family. Harry shares his own experience of neglect with Ron and they both bond instantly.

His initial impression of Hermione is that she has a "bossy sort of voice" . The bossiness is an important characterstic to his impression of her - she reminds him of an authority figure and he does not particularly take to her as easily as he does Ron. Before the troll incident, he is frequently annoyed by her interventions because "he can't believe anyone would be so interfering". It's her vulnerability and the fact that she may be in danger that makes Harry, and by extension Ron, go after her. And she pays it back in full with a demonstration of loyalty to them in front of people she wants to impress: teachers. This sets the tone of his friendship with Ron and Hermione.

There is sense of easiness to his friendship with Ron, especially in earlier books that he doesn't quite share with Hermione. This is a bit gendered as well, of course. His relationship with Hermione evolves as Ron's own equation with two of them changes, more specifically Ron's cognisance of his romantic feelings for Hermione. So how does this inform his relationship with personal conflict?

Let's look at it Book wise.

Book 1-4: Since Harry tends to see All Conflict As Bad, when Hermione becomes his friend, he tends to ignore traits of her that he particularly doesn't take to. Specifically her argumentativeness - which he usually leaves Ron to deal with. For example, look at when Hermione drags him off to the kitchens in GOF. When he realises what this is about, he nudges Ron, and Ron does the protesting: "Hermione, you are trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!".

Often, you can say he is amused by Ron's more ..let's say colourful.. reactions to Hermione being overbearing. So when Ron and him are not speaking and Hermione gets a Quidditch term wrong, it causes him "a pang to imagine Ron's expression of he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints". It's that deeply ingrained into the dynamic.

While Ron acts buffer and protects Harry from stepping into a potential conflict ("skip the lecture", "don't nag" he tells her), Harry's world view remains quite the same. Part of Harry's growing up is integrating conflicting points of view and gaining nuance. For example, he can't understand why someone like Snape, who seems to hate him so much, can also save his life at the end of Philosopher's Stone. This is his first venture into trying to integrate two conflicting things about a person into nuance. Dumbledore gives him a very easily digestible story, one that appeals to his ideal of his father and Harry is sated.

Again, Harry's world view is tested when he finds out that he relates with Tom Riddle - for their "strange likenesses". He doth protest too much at Dumbledore's office: "I don't think I am like him! I am Gryffindor!". And Dumbledore offers him a wisdom nugget: "It's our choices which define who we are" (paraphrasing). Harry is uncomfortable that he empathises with Tom Riddle, his parents' murderer, at this point in the story.

In the first four books, his only proper personal conflict has been with Ron.

It is depressing to think about in these terms - but Ron is Harry's first experience of unconditional love (we can even put Hagrid here, but he is not the one who spends most time with Harry). And when Ron and him fight, Harry is so hurt by the prospect that he proceeds to abandon Ron before Ron abandons him. (the whole chucking a "Potter stinks" badge at him and making a jab about having a scar is what he wants, or the fight in DH where he yells "then leave! Pretend you have gotten over your spattergoit and have your mummy feed you up"). It's an interesting defense mechanism and he feels "corrosive hatred" towards Ron during these times because Ron and him aren't supposed to be like this. Ron is a certainty in his life. It's also why when Ron comes back, Harry either doesn't need him to apologise (as in GOF) or quickly forgives him in DH - although I do think Harry thinks the locket bit was punishment enough. But even without the whole locket, I think Harry has trouble holding Ron accountable in general beyond few slaps on the wrist - especially if Ron and he are on good terms.

5th Book: This is the transition point for Golden Trio friendship. Harry has come back from an immensely traumatising night at the graveyard and his PTSD isolates him from his best friends. This is also the point where Ron, especially after GOF, is aware of his romantic feelings for Hermione ("the perfume is unusual Ron", Hermione tells him in this book). So in this book, we often see Ron and Hermione on one side, with Harry on the other.

Ron is unwilling (quite like Harry in that respect) to engage him in a direct conflict, but he is also unwilling to shield him from Hermione's nagging in this book. This is why, OOTP is the book where you see Harry ignore or avoid Hermione and lie to her more than usual to avoid conflict. For example, he tells her that Snape thinks he can carry on Occlumency once he got the basics - that is categorically not what happened. Or the entire day he spends ignoring Hermione's warnings about breaking into Umbridge's office. (The description here is comical - about Hermione vehemently hissing so much that Seamus Finnigan is checking his cauldron for leaks. ) If he cannot lie to her or avoid her, at the end of the rope, he will treat her to display of his frightening temper.

Interestingly, OOTP is also the book that his world view goes through a tremendous upheaval: mainly, his ideal of his father and having empathy for Snape. It is unnerving for Harry to see Snape being the "boy who cried in the corner" when his father shouts at a cowering woman. Similarly unnerving is that his intense empathy for him - "he knew exactly what Snape felt when his father taunted him and judging by what he had seen, his father was every bit as arrogant as Snape always told him".

While he is placated that his father grew out of it, this memory of his father being a bully is something he cannot bear to watch again in DH. Few chapters later, he grins at Ron "sweeping his hair" back to make it look more windswept, just like his father - suggesting that Harry is beginning to integrate two conflicting things he knew about his father: from the people who loved him vs the people he was cruel to.

6th Book onwards: It's interesting to me that his better appreciation for Hermione comes after OOTP (one, because she is the one who challenged the whole Ministry plan and she followed him into a trap knowing it was one anyway) but also the timing of it is in line with Harry having a more nuanced understanding of his father. He struggled to hold conflicting information about him into one cohesive person - the boy who was a bully vs the man who joins Order of Phoenix to fight a war he could very well have sat out. The pedestal crashing helped Harry gain nuance (he thinks of his father and mother with pride in HBP - of them walking into an arena with head held high). HBP also sets up his deeper understanding with Snape in DH. There is lovely meta by about this by thedreamersmusing. Read it here. HBP is also the book he feels "sorry" for Voldemort and also feels "reluctant admiration" for him - both of things he is less defensive about.

And this nuance informs his relationship with conflicts - especially the kind he has with Hermione. He is more confrontational with her and does not lie or sneak around her as much as he did in OOTP in the Half Blood Prince. ("Finished? Or do you want to see if it does back flips?" He asks her when she takes the book from him to check if it's jinxed. Or the "I hope you enjoy yourself" he calls out irritably when she declares intention to find out who HBP is. And "do you want to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel now?" He tells her when she says she was right about HBP).

The fact that he is willing to be confrontational with her is a big step in his character - a step up from his unregulated outbursts in OOTP, which is a function of him not knowing how to put his anger across in normal ways. He is also more willing to stand up for her in front of Ron too - "You could say sorry" he tells Ron bluntly. This is in contrast to his more quiet standing up for her in POA: "Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked him quietly. In POA, he lets the subject drop after Ron flatly refuses. Here, he presses on more : "What did you have to imitate her for?" "She laughed at moustache!" "So did I, it's the stupidest thing I have ever seen".

His relationship with Ron is an interesting contrast to his relationship with Hermione, which functionally teaches a very important lesson for an abused child who thought all conflicts are bad: That his friendship with her is challenging, and frustrating, filled with conflicts but their love for each other isn't disputed. It's a very important thing for brain development in general - to hold conflicting information in one space. The defense mechanism abused children do to avoid this is called splitting.

So, Ron allows Harry to be the age he is: a teenager and it's foundation for his further development, and Hermione teaches him how to be an adult, and therefore, spurs his growth. (In esoteric terms, if you look at Ron and Hermione as proxy parents - Ron is the Mother archetype, the one who offers unconditional love. Hermione is the Father archetype - one who demands best of him, and guides him).

Additional reading: Harry, Prongs and Prince - Harry's Inner Struggles For Forging An Identity. By u/metametatron4

Harry Identifies, and Reluctantly Admires Snape Even Before The Prince's Tale by thedreamersmusing

[maddiwrites]

Precious Life

Pairing: JJ x reader

REQUEST (From anon): could you write a jj maybank imagine where he and the reader are together, but she pushes him away due to her mental health. she has insecurity issues after her last boyfriend and her bestfriend passed a few months ago leaving her horribly depressed. finally, she opens up to him and its just super fluffy and he showers her in love and support.

Note: Thank you so much for the request and I’m so sorry it took me a while to write, but hopefully you like it. I kinda suck at fluff, so I’m sorry if it’s not enough fluff. Let me know what you think! 

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of death of a friend, mental trauma from a past relationship, depression

You don’t know when it happened - whether it was overnight or throughout the past few weeks. Unlike everyone else who was excited about the summer finally beginning after what felt like the longest school year of your life, your days felt darker as you dreaded the upcoming season. You use to love summer - hell, you thrived during the hottest months of the year. You loved outdoor dining, surfing, beach parties, going out on the boat in the marsh with your friends. But now the thought of doing those activities made you want to vomit.

After your best friend passed away only a few months ago, you lost interest in all those activities. Because they all reminded you of her. She was the one who brought you out of you shell and pulled you out of your dark place when the world felt too unbearable to live in anymore. And now she was gone. Just like that. Life is so precious, you remember people telling you that at her funeral. They weren’t wrong. But you never thought your life could compare to the one of your beautifully made best friend.

Her birthday is next month in the early weeks of July. Her mother wants to hold a small party as if she was still there to celebrate. Of course she wants you there, but you don’t know if you’d be able to handle it. A birthday party for a dead girl? What an obvious reminder that she’s not there. It’s going to be the first birthday you spend without her. The tradition of getting smoothie bowls and going to the local zoo and finishing the night off with a bonfire and beer cans you stole out of your parents fridge is completely destroyed. Gone just like she is.

The only person making your miserable life a little more bearable is your wonderful boyfriend, JJ Maybank. Despite only being together for about two months, he became your closest friend. Your best friend would have loved him and would even be impressed that you went for such a bad boy. Your type usually consisted of stuck up boys with egos bigger than their daddy’s bank account. Sometimes you picture a life where your best friend and JJ knew each other. They’d probably be best of friends. Your friend would be weary of him at first, but JJ would work his usual charm and win her over in seconds. It’s what he did with you.

You met him after getting really close with Kiara when her dad hired you as another waitress at the Wreck. You remembered the day he first walked into the restaurant with his friends. You felt his eyes on you the entire time. Feeling bold, you walked over to his table and asked to borrow his phone. You opened his snap chat app and took a selfie with the two of you and said, “Here’s a picture if you want it to last longer.” And that was how the love story of JJ Maybank and Y/N Y/L/N started. JJ still has the picture saved as his Lock Screen. It makes you smile every time you see it.

Your life with JJ was nearly perfect. What started as a flirty banter became something serious. Kie knew JJ was in deep because he never complained about how slow you wanted to take the relationship. Aka sex. Usually JJ is the kind of guy who will go get what he wants. And if that’s a quick lay, that’s what he’ll go searching for. Someone that won’t make him work too hard for it. But with you? It was different. Sure he wanted to explore that part of the relationship with you, but only when you were ready. It was hard for him some days, especially when you wore his hoodies or kissed him so deeply that he swore his skin was on fire.

Although JJ has been nothing but a respectful KING about your decision to wait, you can’t help but feel guilty about keeping him waiting. It’s not that you didn’t want to - because god did you want to. But it was hard for you to give someone all of you like that. Part of you blames that on your own insecurities and the other part knows it’s trauma due to your past relationship. You never told anyone the kind of vile and disgusting things your ex boyfriend would say to your face. Well, you confessed to your best friend on the night he broke up with you. You physically had to hold her back by her hair to keep her from setting his house on fire. She tried to make you see that everything he said about you was wrong. Dumb, fat, whore, useless, poor, ugly. You wanted to believe her, but it was like your ex had physically tattooed the words onto your skin and it was hard to see anything else. When things were getting heated between you and JJ and you felt his hand dip under the thin material of your t shirt, you would pull away, afraid that he would feel the rolls on your stomach. You never let him see you without makeup on. And even wore baggy clothing so you wouldn’t have to worry about showing too much skin. You didn’t want him getting the wrong impression.

JJ tried asking Kie about it. JJ is smarter than people give him credit for. He had a feeling that your choosing to not have sex ran deeper than just not being ready. Which is totally fine but he wanted to be there for you if you needed help. Of course Kie had no idea. But just like JJ, she noticed you pulling away from the group slowly. She thought maybe it was the stress of finals as the end of the school year wrapped up, but then summer came around and the less you did.

“She’s been off, right?” JJ asks Kie. His legs bounces up and down anxiously and he chews on the nub of his thumb nail. “Do you notice it too?”

Kie doesn’t know how to answer. Of course she wants to be honest with her best friend, but she also doesn’t want to hurt him. “I mean, she’s been kind of distant with us. Maybe she’s been busy. I mean she’s gotten a few of her shifts covered in the last two weeks.”

JJ shakes his head. “I don’t know. I can’t shake off this feeling that it’s something more than that. Something I’m missing. I mean...” he sighs and takes his fingers through his hair. “Do you think it’s me? Did I do something? Maybe she feels pressured by this whole sex thing-“

“No. Of course not.” Kie says. She knows JJ would never make you do anything you don’t want to do, and he would never make you feel guilty about it. “You should talk to her about it next time you see her. I mean, I could bring it up too but I think it would be best coming from you.”

JJ nods and accepts this answer from Kie. It doesn’t make him feel any less anxious about the state of your relationship but at least he’s not crazy for thinking you’re pulling away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He doesn’t see you for another week. You claimed that you’ve been busy with work and college prep. JJ didn’t buy it but he also didn’t push it. He saw you when you showed up at his window at the Chateau. 

You’d come after having one of your episodes - one where you can’t sleep or eat or even focus on one thought. You don’t know why you came to the Chateau. You knew JJ would be here but you didn’t think he’d be able to help you. No one ever can.

“Hey,” JJ flicks on the lamp from the bedside table as he watches your figure squeeze through the window. “What are you doing here?”

You shrug. “I - uh. I don’t know, exactly. Just wanted to see you, I guess.”

JJ tilts his head and narrows his eyes at you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” You lie. 

JJ nods, but he doesn’t believe you. “Then come here.” He opens up his arms for you to fall into. When you do, he pulls you in close with your head laying on his bare chest. You focus on his steady heartbeat and his warm arms around your body. You miss this. Being with JJ whole heartedly - mind and body. Recently it’s only been your body - your mind off somewhere else. 

“Did I wake you?” You ask softy. 

JJ kisses the top of your head. “No.” 

When you close your eyes, you picture your friend again. Her smile and laugh. Things that should have made you happy. But they don’t. Not anymore.

You don’t remember when or how it happened - how you ended up being below a hovering JJ as his lips peppered your skin. You remember starting the heavy make out session, hoping to distract yourself from the depressing thoughts of your dead best friend.

However, the deeper you got into it, the deeper you got in your own thoughts. First about your friend and then about your ex. What he would say if he were the one above you - “I thought you were going to the gym?” “You didn’t shave?” “You could use some sun.” - His voice rang in your head like a screeching record and you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Stop,” you mumble softly enough that JJ doesn’t hear it until you physically push him off of you and say more loudly. “J, stop!”

As his back hits the mattress again, he holds his hands up in surrender. He didn’t realize he was doing anything wrong and his heart races with the thought that maybe he hurt you or had gone too far.

You quickly pick up your tossed shirt and bag while avoiding all kinds of eye contact with him. You felt embarrassed. It’s not his fault that you can physically feel every skin roll on your body or think you can smell every bad odor radiating off your skin. JJ has never been anything but a prince to you since you started dating. You felt bad that you couldn’t give him what he wanted. Sex should be a normal part of your relationship yet you couldn’t seem to give him your all just yet.

“I’m sorry. Did I-“ JJ starts to apologize but you cut him off.

“No. I’m sorry. I should go. I should have never come -“

“Hey,” JJ sits up and tries to reach for you, but you yank your hand closer to your body when his fingers graze your skin. JJ frowns. “You don’t have to go. We can just go to sleep. Or I can sleep on the couch.”

You pause at the bedroom door with your back to him. You squeeze your eyes tight to stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks. You hate this. Feeling like another burden to someone else. Not being able to give the one you love everything they want. It’s not fair. It feels like everyday your days just keeping getting darker and darker as if the sun never rises. And you don’t know how long you’ll be able to take it.

“Y/N...” JJ softly calls out for you. He can see the tension in your shoulders and your knuckles turning white as you clench around the door knob. He knows something isn’t right. That there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to what you’re going through. He’d never force you to tell him anything. But he wants you to feel comfortable enough that you know you have the option to talk if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry, J...” your voice cracks which makes JJ’s heart break a little more. Still with your back to him, you shake your head. “I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“Y/N -“

You finally turn to look at him. “You deserve someone who will give you everything you want. Someone who makes you happy - someone who is happy.” You sniffle back the tears. “I’m sorry. That’s just not me.”

Tears prick at JJ’s eyes. He wishes he can say he is surprised, but he honestly saw this coming. You’ve been distant and hard to read. He thought you were falling out of love with him for weeks. But that doesn’t make this any less hard to hear.

“Don’t do this,” JJ shakes his head. “We can work this out -“

“I can’t do it anymore,” you shake your head as one lone tear falls down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You rip the door open and stumble through John B’s house before JJ could say anything else. You throat feels on fire as you bite back a heart wrenching scream from what you’ve just done. You probably ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to you. No surprise there, you think. Nothing in your life seems to ever go as planned.

You run home until your legs feel like they’re literally on fire. By the time your back hits the mattress of your own bed, your muscles feel like jello, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to walk again.

You cry into your pillow until the world around you fades to darkness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Its been about two weeks since you last saw JJ and the Pogues. You didn’t think it was possible, but without them, your life somehow felt even emptier. Days feel like years. Your body feels so heavy, it’s hard to get out of bed most days. You can’t remember the last time you showered. Your skin on your face feels dry from all tears that have been shed. Some days you want to pick up the phone and call JJ or Kie, just to hear their voice. But you don’t. Because you don’t want to feel like a burden to either one of them. You broke up with JJ. You’re not their problem anymore.

With your head tucked deep into your pillow, you feel the corner of your bed dip as if someone had just sat down. You figured it was just your mom checking in on you again for the hundredth time. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t acknowledge her either. 

Your phone beeps with another text message from JJ. You peek your eye open at your phone and slowly reach for it. You hesitate opening the message, afraid that whatever he has to say will only break your heart and make you feel like an even worse human being.

“You’re seriously not going to answer that?” The person sitting on your bed says, making you snap around to face the girl who is for sure not your mother, but your best friend. The same best friend who’s buried in a cemetery fifteen minutes away from your house. 

She looks exactly how you remember her. Long beautiful hair that frames her perfect jawline. Tan almost glistening skin that radiates off the sunlight that shines through your window. Eyes sparkling with life and mischief.

You look at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. You were truly at a loss for words. Confused was an understatement. It didn’t make sense.

She laughs at your reaction and shakes her head. “Do you need a minute?”

“I don’t - how - am I - am I dreaming?” You stutter. 

“No I’m just the prettiest zombie you’ve ever seen,” She says sarcastically and holds her grin. You blink at her. “Yes, you’re dreaming. Well, kinda.” She stands up and faces you. “You’re definitely dreaming but I’m in control of visiting you in your sleep. Kinda cool, right? It’s a ghost trick I recently learned.”

“I’m officially going crazy,” You say.

“You’re right. You are going crazy,” Your friend rounds to the other side of the bed to come face to face with you as you sit up and rub your eyes. “But not because you’re seeing me. Because you’re not seeing JJ.”

You drop your hands at your side and glare at her. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know of him,” She says. “He’s a Pogue. A hot one too. And he’s head over heels in love with you. What else do I need to know?”

You shake your head. “It’s complicated.”

“Why? He loves you and you love him.”

You flip your comforter off you body and walk past the girl who loves sticking her nose in other people’s business. You always told her it would get her in trouble one day. But you secretly loved that she was so nosy. Because she cared and always gave the best advice. 

You walk towards your dresser and stare at yourself in the mirror above it. The bags under your eyes are dark and your skin pale. Your hair is greasy from your lack of washing it and you’re starting to realize you’re beginning to smell.

Your friend sighs and sits back on your bed. “He’s in your head,” She says glumly.

You scoff, “I think if anyone’s in my head, it’s you.”

She glares back at you. “You know what I mean. Y/Ex’s/N. He’s still tormenting you after almost a year of not seeing him.”

You shake your head. “No I’m -”

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t lie to me. You’re still hiding your laugh behind your hand because he called it obnoxious. You hide yourself under baggy clothing and you won’t have sex with JJ because Y/Ex’s/N said you were bad at it -”

“Stop.”

“Clearly you weren’t bad at it since he got to come every single time. If anyone was bad at it, it was him.”

“Y/BFF’s/N.”

“What? It’s true,” She shrugs. That’s what you always loved about her. She was unapologetic. She meant what she said every time no matter what. You wished you had her confidence. She sighs and moves over on the bed so she’s closer to you. “Y/N, you deserve to be happy,” she says more softly. “And JJ makes you happy. Why are you pushing him away? Why can’t you let yourself be happy?”

“Because you’re not here!” You finally kick down the wall that’s been building in your head since your friend’s death. You never talked about her with anyone. Not even with her own family. She was your person - the girl who was going to stand by your side at your wedding, be the god mother to your children, your shoulder to cry on, and your therapist when you needed to rant. And now she’s not here and it feels wrong living the life you were supposed to live together. “How can I be happy when you’re not here?”

“Y/N...”

“No,” You cry. “It’s not fair. You’re supposed to be here. I can’t pretend like everything’s normal when it’s not. This was supposed to be the best summer of our lives and then you just left.” You snap your fingers. “Just like that. Out of nowhere. And if that can happen to you then it can happen to -”

You cut yourself off, afraid to say what you really were thinking. You didn’t want to put that kind of energy into the atmosphere because the thought haunted you every night when you were alone with your thoughts. You never thought you could lose someone like you lost your best friend. You didn’t think that would ever happen to you. But it did. And it put life in perspective for you. You don’t think you’d be able to live through another loss like that so falling for JJ was scary to you. Because if something ever happened to him, you wouldn’t know what to do. 

“Hey,” She stands up to embrace you in a hug. You sob into her shoulder and squeeze her tightly against you. You don’t want to let her go. She feels so real. You’re actually touching her. “Look at me.” She eventually pulls away to look at you. She offers a sad grin and pushes your hair out of your eyes. “I’m sorry I died. But you get to live! You know how jealous I am that you have the ability to eat smoothie bowls every day and go surfing and date cute boys and go on road trips with your friends and family? You don’t even know how good you have it. And on top of that, you have the hottest guy on the island fawning over you and you’re too sad about me to even realize it. I don’t want you to live this way -” she motions to your messy room. “I want you to take advantage of the life you have. If I can’t live it, then you have to live it for me.”

“I don’t want to do it without you,” You cry.

She shakes her head. “You’ll never be without me, chick. I’m always going to be with you. Besides, I like JJ. You’d be stupid to let him go.”

You bite your bottom lip and feel a rush of heat climb up your neck to your cheeks. “He is really good to me.” You knew your friend was right. She was always right. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” She says. You both turn when you hear someone knock on your door. She looks back at you and smirks. “That’s my cue.”

“Wait -”

“Don’t worry, chick. Remember what I said. I’m not far away.”

You gasp awake wrapped in your sheets with dried drool stuck to your chin. You sit up and look around frantically for any sign of your best friend. But she’s gone. So is any sign that she might have been here. You rub the dried saliva off your chin with your fingers and sigh up at the ceiling. It felt so real.

Your mom lets herself into your room and smiles at you. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

“Yeah...” You say slowly. You think back to everything your best friend said to you in your dream. How lucky you are to live a life that she can’t. For the first time ever, she was jealous of you. For a life you’re taking for granted. Although it was hard to be happy without her by your side, you knew she didn’t want you sulking around for her. Some days are going to be hard. That’s just the inevitable. But you have the ability to make it easier. It all starts with you. “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

“Really?” Your mom says, surprised by the effort you’re making so early in the morning. 

“Yeah,” You grin and walk past her to get to your bathroom. Today is going to be a new day, you say to yourself as you let the warm water rain over you. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later was your best friend’s birthday. A day you’ve been dreading for weeks. Your heart felt heavy and your mind clouded as you moved around your room getting ready for the day. As much as you wanted to stay in bed, you knew it wouldn’t be what she wanted. You haven’t spoken to her since that night, but you knew she was quietly watching over you. 

You throw on a pair of sports shorts and a long sleeve t shirt. The day is cold and foggy so you knew the cemetery would be cold. Your parents offer you a small smile as you walk out the door with a bouquet of flowers and a blanket.

You slowly come to a stop as you’re walking to your car parked on the street in front of your house when you recognize a familiar truck parked behind it. JJ steps out of the driver’s seat and approaches you with his hands tucked in his short pockets. He smiles sheepishly at you and glances down at the flowers. 

“Hey,” He says. 

“Hey,” You shuffle awkwardly on your feet. Why did he have to look so good? He’s dressed in a Coors Light tank and cargo shorts. His golden hair is perfectly quaffed and his skin perfectly sun kissed. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” He nods. He hates that your relationship has resulted to this. Awkward small talk. “I’m sorry. Am I catching you at a bad time?” He motions to the flowers. 

“Um,” You glance between the flowers and him and shrug. “No. I was actually just going to see a friend. Would you like to come?” You remember all the things your friend had to say about JJ. How he loves you, you love him, and he makes you happy. You messed up by breaking up with him, but maybe you can make it right by explaining everything to him. 

“Oh,” JJ looks surprised that you’re offering time to hang out. He was afraid you were going to push him away and shut your front door in his face. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He just wanted to see you. “Yeah. Definitely.”

You smile. “Great. But we have to stop for smoothie bowls on the way.”

JJ laughs. “No problem.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward being alone with JJ after all this time. The two of you spent the car ride talking about the other Pogues and what they’ve been up to in the past couple of weeks. It was bittersweet talking about them because of how much you missed them, but you hoped that they would accept you back into their friend group after you explained to JJ why you’ve been so distant. 

“Uh, Y/N.” JJ says when he parks the car.

“Yeah?” 

“This is a cemetery.”

You can’t help but giggle at his apprehension. “I know. Come on.”

JJ carries the flowers and you carry the brown paper bag that holds your three smoothie bowls and a blanket. You lead him through the wet grass, past dozens of tomb stones until you find where your best friend peacefully lays. 

JJ stays silent as he looks between you and the tombstone. The years etched onto the tombstone indicate that someone your age is buried here. He quickly puts the puzzle pieces together and tries to read your facial expression. Your sadly grinning at the tomb stone when you feel JJ’s eyes on the side of your face. 

You lay the blanket down and offer half of it for him to sit next to you. He does but stays quiet, waiting for you to explain whenever you’re ready.

“This is Y/BFF’s/N,” You introduce her. “She was my best friend.” JJ nods and lets you continue as you stare at the tombstone. “She died a few weeks before we met.” You pull out the smoothie bowls and pass one to JJ and place the other one in front of the flowers placed by the grave. “Today’s her birthday and  we had this tradition that we would get smoothie bowls every morning of our birthday.” You pop open the lid of your bowl and push around the berries laying on top with your spoon. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to...”

“Trust me,” You smile at him, “I do. She would kill me if I didn’t.” 

You told JJ about the mental toll her death had on your life. Even with JJ by your side, you felt her missing presence heavily all day every day. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy in your relationship with JJ, it was just that something was missing and it was something you couldn’t bring back to your life. Because of her loss, you fell back into a depression you once experienced towards the end of your last relationship. You told JJ about the mental anguish your ex left you with and why you don’t feel comfortable opening yourself up to him, both physically and mentally. You promised it wasn’t because of JJ but because of your ex and the things he said to you. With your friend’s birthday coming up, everything was weighing you down mentally and you didn’t want to hinder JJ’s life any longer. You told him you thought breaking up with him was best for him so he didn’t have to deal with your problems and he can find a girl that makes him happy. You regret ever walking away from him that night. Your friend was your person, but now so is JJ. You want him to know everything about you. Good and bad. He deserves to know the truth.

“She would’ve liked you,” You brush your fallen tears away with the back of your hand. “You guys are alike in a lot of ways.”

“Yeah?” JJ smiles at you. “How?”

“She made me laugh and always pushed me past my comfort zone. She challenged me to do more with my life. And she never gave up on me,” You grin up at him. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

“You don’t have to be,” JJ says. “I get it. No one deserve to lose a friend like this. I don’t know what I would do if this happened to John B or Pope or even Kie.”

“I still love you, J. And I want to give you every part of me. I just...need some help opening up.”

JJ sets down his smoothie bowl and turns to face you. His hand caresses the side of your face and pushes your hair back behind your ear. “Hey....we can take it as slow as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile at him. “So, you wanna try this again?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

JJ leans in to kiss you on your lips. Butterflies erupt from your stomach and fireworks shoot across every nerve in your body. When you eventually pull away, you’re smiling because even when your best friend isn’t here to physically push you, she has her own way of getting into your head and making sure you don’t take the life you have in front of you for granted. And you couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Unbeknownst to you, your friend watches from a far with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. Slightly shaking her head, she says to you, “You’re gonna be just fine, chick.”

[jams-sims]

Theres so much I wanna say about the new ep-

Because- here the deallo- Stolas and Blitzo did this to themselves but that doesn't mean they don't deserve to be happy and in love.

Stolas cheating on his wife is a shit move- no matter how you look at it. Sure it clear there wasn't any love but its about the respect. On top of that lets not forget the child that in the middle of this shit show. With a mother who is unhinged and a father going through it. Neglected on both ends but Octavia is a daddy girl. When they actually talk he explained how this (him and Blitz) would never mess with his love for his daughter. Just make the living situation really fucky. (Still not good- Blitz wants to be a dad anyway so if they got their shit together guess who would have a sister!!)

BUT before you try and murder me- Stolas growing wanting and actual relationship with Blitz is fine. He can want that he gotta fix his home life first but it flawed but it not wrong. Their relationship is a mess and it did start off as just sex. Now this prince is forced to fight for something. But idk if he strong enough to do it. Because Stolas has always given off the shelter rich kid vibes. Everything was planned out for me vibes. That when it time to be in a real relationship to connect without it being arranged or just having sex.

He fucking fumbling- he doesn't know what hes doing. He needs this relationship to work because this is the first thing hes ever wanted for himself. No one else did this, no one else had a hand in it. This is him exploring his sexual desires and wants. But he also hold a lot of power that he either willingly ignores or is naive of when it comes to socal standing with Blitz and himself.

All the way on the opposite end Blitz and his self destructive way. Has had many relationship and life just beat the shit out of him. While also being on the lower end of the social ladder.

He starts a relationship out his own ass to gain power. And catches feeling but because he lives on negativity. His own brain is telling him-

"This relationship you want with this guy is never gonna fucking happen. Hes a fucking prince and you are what? A nobody? You think hes gonna give up his lavish lifestyle to be broke and with you??!! Fuck no!"

Because on all account Blitz has fired bombed all his relationships. Its always Blitz fault his toxic behavior catches him he lashes out and he hurts people who really care about him.

Slutty marinette loved Blitz enough to get his named fucking tattoo on her body. What did he do? Steal her car, spend her money and fucked her over. He hurt her! Their relationship exploded because she couldn't understand why he would do what he did. Blitz sure as fuck couldn't understand her. Leading to this resentment.

Because of the past Blitz lashes out and pushes people away. Which makes it hard to feel bad for him. But that doesn't mean his fear and feeling aren't vaild.

When Stolas looks away from Blitz when they were both being exposed. It confirmed in Blitz mind that he was an embarrassment that this- even if it was a fake date at first-

(Because for a split second they were going to make a connection. When Stolas decided to ask Blitz about his work. Blitz fucking turned to Stolas he fucking ignored the M and Ms. For a second they were about to have a real fucking conversation without the sex and it all came crashing down around them.)

This is it this is the big part people are missing. Them wanting a relationship is going to be a lot of fucking work. THEY CAN HAVE IT! IT IS POSSIBLE AND IT NOT WRONG NO ONE IS MORE WRONG THAN THE OTHER. THEY BOTH FUCKED UP RULY BUT BUT

The M and Ms did something that highlighted the biggest problem between the two are-

They care too much about what others will say and do when they are together. They both needed to stand up for their relationship. If your relationships is fucked up don't try and hide it. Own it.

When Fiz cracks to many jokes you know what Millie does she hops her ass on stage and knocks that bitch out. No one talks about her husband like that.

When it time for Moxie to step up for Millie he is always there for her.

Blitz and Stolas when confront they curl into themselves. They look away they indirectly hurt eachother. Stolas tries his best to fix it, because hes a little more in tune with what he truly feels. But it falls flat because of the way they started the relationship.

But Blitz gotta reach too, he has to be the Millie to Stolas Moxie.

[reluctant-mandalore]

may i request din finding out his s/o is a sith lord when they go to rescue grogu and later while cuddling have a “Tell me every terrible thing you’ve done and let me love you anyways” moment

Warnings: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, sith!reader, established relationship, playing with canon, kissing, not beta read. 

Word Count: 3679

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader (also sith!Reader) 

a/n: Hey anon!! Thank you so much for the request and sorry its taken so long for me to finish it! I hit a huge writing block with requests and decided to focus on other works. That combined with how busy school got, I fell super behind on fics. Anyway, the concept of sith!reader was really fun to explore and honestly it was something I wanted to explore long before I got this request. I might write a few other things for sith reader of y’all are interested. Otherwise I hope you all enjoy <3 

Note: fic will be labeled as ‘secrets revealed’ on my masterlist and on ao3. 

“Look at you darling! Switching sides must come really easily for you, hm?”

Moff Gideon’s words had echoed throughout the cockpit, his image flickering within the hologram that shined before the three of you currently stood there. A sharp pain of dread had bubbled within you at the weight of what he had said, unease finding itself littering within your thoughts as the meaning behind it had settled among you all. You knew eventually this would come up, but had you thought you would have more time before it did. Honestly you didn’t think it would be here so soon, otherwise you would have already prepared yourself for this discussion with the Mandalorian.

“What?”

“Oh you didn’t know Mando?” Moff Gideon had smirked, his smile the most sickening thing you had ever laid your sights on, “Your little friend there is a sith.”

The Mandalorian’s gaze had snapped to yours in an instant, confusion and concern held within its blistering depth. He didn’t know much in regards to the sith, but he had learned well enough about them in his time traveling with the child. He had heard the horrors of what they had done—the wars they had raged and slaughters they had committed—he knew that the sith weren’t good. In fact they were the exact opposite of good. The sith were dark and evil on all accounts.

“That… That’s not true.” He had said in disbelief, the idea of you being one of them seeming so unlikely to him. You had always been so sweet and kind, treating the child as if he was your own. Even caring for him and the Mandalorian as if you were family. You couldn’t be a sith. “He’s lying. Right cyar’ika?”

Unmistakable shame had consumed you at his words, and you had looked away from him at his pleading question. You couldn’t seem to form an answer, and honestly you didn’t know if you wanted to, especially not with how he was looking at you in the moment.

“Mando listen… I-”

“-And,” Gideon’s voice had cut you off, his enjoyment of your suffering in the situation clear in just his tone alone, “They’ve been working with me the entire time. Well. They were at least. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be bringing me the child anytime soon there, especially not when you’re playing house with a Mandalorian.”

At the imperial’s words, Din’s gaze had finally moved from yours and down to the child that was still held tightly in your arms. His fingers visibly twitching with the sudden need to snatch the little one from your grasp. His concern and worry was evident even with the helmet that shielded his expression from your view. The sight of which had only caused for your heart to crack with sadness at the mistrust he was sending your way.

“Well congratulations my dear sith lord on your happily ever after!” Gideon had said as he ended off his call with a laugh. The holopad shutting off soon after, and allowing for a deathly silence to fall over the room once more. The air of the small space now feeling tight, and almost suffocating, as you two stared at one another for what felt like an eternity.

The Mandalorian had approached you cautiously after some time. Every step he took calculated, and slower, the closer he got. He had soon nearly snatched the child from your grasp—almost as if touching you for even the slightest of seconds would have burned him—now shielding the little one away from your prying eyes, and whatever evil he must have thought you carried.

You couldn’t blame him of course. As you probably would have reacted in the same way if you were in his shoes, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see your beloved Mandalorian responding like this to the news. It hurt to see his mistrust in you.  

“Din…”

“Let’s get out of here.” He had replied sternly, setting the child down in his own seat far away on the other side of the room, before motioning for you to take the other opposite one. “We need to get as far away from here as possible. Don’t want Gideon catching up.”

Another wave of pain had washed over you at his sudden coldness, causing your eyes to brim with tears, as you had nodded and followed the Mandalorian’s directions anyway. You didn’t have the heart to argue or even defend yourself at this time. Din was right after all, you three needed to leave the area as quickly as possible. The Imperial and his ship were surely close on your tail if he had felt the need to speak with you over the communicator.

The ride to the next planet was dreadfully quiet. Not even the child had cooed or chattered on the way there. Instead he had simply stared between you two with lowered ears and wide confused eyes. He had to have known something was going on, though it was unclear if he knew exactly what had been said and done.

Eventually the ship had landed flawlessly thanks to the Mandalorian’s piloting. Than a quick check of the area had made it apparent that you three had managed to escape the Empire’s hold once again.

You had watched as the Mandalorian fiddled with the control panel. He was making sure the ship was settled and secure just as he always did after landing, though this time you could see the unease in each of his movements. He hadn’t said a word to you yet, but you knew the two of you would have to talk about what happened sooner or later. Better now than never.

“Din I think we need to talk.”

“I’m putting the kid to bed.” He had stated simply, not even looking at you as he stood from his and made his way down to the hold with the child in toe,  “It's way past his bedtime.”

You didn’t say anything in response to his words after he had left you alone in the cockpit. Instead you had chosen to move down into the hull and to your own cot silently, as you figured that you wouldn’t push him to talk tonight. Though of course, this reasoning of yours hadn’t stopped the feeling of guilt and despair settling firmly within your gut from the brisk interaction.

The sheets there were stiff and cold as you laid within them. Clearly they hadn’t been used in a long while, as you usually choose to share the sleeping quarters which belonged to the Mandalorian with him. Both of you had enjoyed the other's presence more than sleeping alone, and with your growing relationship, it just seemed normal for you two to begin sleeping in the same bed.

Tonight of course would be the first in a long time where you would be sleeping alone again.

From your cot you could take in the sight of Din rocking the child, as he tried to sooth the little one into resting. He had seemed to struggle with it tonight. The kid was far too restless to want to sleep any time soon—regardless of the long day he had just suffered through. You had watched the two of them for another moment, smiling sadly, before closing the curtain which had once provided you with privacy. Although tonight it had only felt like another wall between you and your family. Now existing only as a reminder of the details of your life you had hidden from them all this time.

Din had eventually managed to get the kid to lay down and sleep. A sigh of relief could be heard from the other side of the curtain that had separated your space from the surrounding area. More rustling and the clicking of metal could be heard shortly after. The sound of it making you realize that he was now getting himself ready for bed. You had figured he wouldn’t be coming to see you that night, but the confirmation had still felt icy to your heart, and you found yourself once again on the brink of crying.

That’s probably why the knock on the wall next to your cot was such a shock to you. It was Din’s usual way of asking for permission to enter your enclosed space. He was always kind and considerate, wanting to make sure that you were always comfortable regardless of whatever else had happened. Tonight seemed to be no different in this regard at least, and you took comfort in what little normality you could hold onto.

“You can come in.” You had answered quietly, propping yourself up as you watched him pull the curtain back to let himself in, forcing a smile at the sight of him entering. “Is the kid ok?”

The Mandalorian had already stripped himself down to his under clothes and helmet. The metal shield which still remained over his face was a clear sign that he had been feeling uncomfortable and uneasy in the moment. You two had been together for a long while now, and he had ended up showing you his face some months ago. It was still only a recent development in your blossoming relationship, and it was one you were sure you had just ruined for the man with your lies now unraveled.

No wonder he had chosen to keep it on this fateful night.

“He took longer to put down than usual.” He had said when your gaze had locked with his visor, though he had soon broken the contact all too quickly, looking away as he stood awkwardly before you. “He seems restless.”

“That’s surprising.” You had said, though your mind wondered if the child was so restless because he could tell his parents were currently at odds with one another. “You’d think after the long day he’s had he would be exhausted.”

The Mandalorian had only let out a grunt in reply, sitting himself next to you on the cot as another silence had fallen between you two. He had looked down to his hands, twiddling them nervously, as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He had looked up again briefly, as if he was trying to gage your expression, or even understand what you must have been thinking, but he had ended up lowering his sight again before finally deciding on what to say to you.

“So you’re a sith lord.”

The way he had gone straight to the point had almost made you feel surprised, but knowing him well, meant knowing that he was one to never beat around the bush. This was especially true when it came to important topics or situations, and even more so when they involved the child.

“Well no—I mean yes—but it's complicated and…” You had trailed off, looking away from him again as you tried to piece together exactly what you had wanted to tell him. Although you knew you had to tell him the truth regardless of how you felt and how much you wish you could just bury your past away from his sight. “Yes. At least at one point I was, not really sure if I count as one now.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know.” You had said, another wave of guilt washing over you at your words. Honestly you had felt unsure of what to say, or even how to explain it all to him. It wasn’t as if you had planned for your life to have gone that way. “Din I’m so sorry”

The Mandalorian had looked over at you, his own confession clear in just his voice alone, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I mean… I’ve done terrible things.”

“So have I.”

“No Din.” You choked out a sob, your lip trembling between each word that was spoken between you two, finding that you weren’t able to keep your tears in any longer. “I’ve actually done unspeakable things. I’m quite literally the worst of the worst.”

To your shock, his arms had moved to pull you into his chest, and you had found yourself cradled there as he hummed in a calming manor. “Tell me everything Cyar’ika.”

Those words from your love were the last ones to bring your already crumbling walls down. Your confession soon spilling out of you like the fiercest of storms. It seemed to have no end as you had rambled all your wrong doings to the man before you. All the way from how you had fallen, to the mission you had received from moff Gideon, and everything in between—there was nothing that wasn’t revealed by you to him in that moment.

Every confession had only brought more tears to flow from you, and as they piled higher you knew you had become closer to losing the man you loved. You had expected him to be disgusted and furious. You had assumed he would toss you aside and leave you to wallow in your disgrace. Any sane person would have, and you wouldn’t blame them.

The Mandalorian had done the opposite though, instead choosing to hold you close to him, as you talked and talked. Your whole life and terrible deeds being fed to him one by one. Even then he had never let go of you—even when hearing the worst things you had ever done—he had just kept you held tight in his arms while listening.

Eventually your words had died out, your confession of sins over as you now silently cried in his arms. His embrace had remained as a calming presence, and his shoulder had become a sturdy place for you to cry into, as you only broke down further into his arms. His hand had gently run soothingly circles along your spine—the same way that you had done for him on some of his worst nights—and his voice had been soft as he spoke reassurance to you in the most softest of tones.  

“I’m sorry.” You had mumbled again into his chest. “Din I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Was what he said true? About the child and your mission.” Din had asked, whatever he was feeling now unreadable, as he had waited for your response.

You had only nodded in reply at first, burying your face farther into the crook of his neck, though you knew you did not deserve such a comfort. “It is. All of it. I was supposed to take him from you after earning your trust and then take him back to Moff Gideon—leaving you for dead.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Din’s question had made you pull back and look away. A wave of heat washing over you at the answer which danced at the tip of your tongue. He had waited patiently for your reply though, allowing you to take as much time as you needed to form your thoughts together properly.

“Because I fell in love with you. I love you so much Din.” You had whispered as you looked back to him. His grip on you only tightening at hearing those words leave your lips. “I fell in love with you and the child. You’re the most important things to me. I’ve never had a family before now, but you two… you both treated me as such without a second thought.”

A sound of the child crying had interrupted you both before Din could form a reply, and he had found himself letting go of you, so he could stand and go to sooth the little one. You had quickly stopped him though, looking up at him through pleading and tear stained eyes.

“I… can I? Please?”

Din had stared at you for a moment, and it felt as if you would combust on the spot if he didn’t answer soon. After a brief silence, he had moved his own hand to brush away the tears on your cheek. The feeling of his skin against yours a comfort that you had found yourself leaning into while also basking in the warmth it had brought.

“Of course cyar’ika.”

From his words, you had soon stood and quickly made your way to the child. Even sooner, you had scooped the crying infant into your arms, rocking him back and worth, as you did your best to soothe him. A quiet and soft hum leaving you as you calmed the little child wailing in your arms.

The Mandalorian had watched from the sidelines, his heart swelling and overflowing with his fondness at the sight of the two of you together. He had continued watching even after the child’s cries had subsided, his gaze never leaving you two, as you had tucked the little creature back into his bed. He had soon stood again from the cot after that, quietly removing the helmet he wore and setting it to the side, before making his way over to where you still stood watching over the resting child.

“I love you too cyar’ika.” He had whispered when his body pressed into yours, his breath ghosting over your ear, as he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. The scuff on his chin tickling you and sending another flush of warmth to coarse through your form again.

A small gasp had left your lips at his sudden touch and a few stray tears had formed at the corner of your eyes once more. “Din I… are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Even after everything I told you?” You had turned in his arms and felt your grip tighten along his own. Your eyes searching his for any doubt that they may have held, but instead only finding his undeniable love and fondness staring back at you within his brown hues. “Do you really still love me?”

“Yes cyar’ika. I still love you.” He had said, a small smile gracing his lips, as he nuzzled his nose against your own. “I never stopped.”

“But earlier...”

“I won’t lie, I was concerned and worried after hearing what Moff Gideon had said.” He had confessed, looking away almost shamefully, “I was scared that everything between us was a lie, and I feared that the child was in danger, or maybe had been for longer than I thought he was. I was afraid cyar’ika. I’m sorry.”

You had looked away again, another ping of guilt blossoming within your heart at the sadness you had heard in his voice, “I… Din I don’t know what to say honestly. Other than the fact that it's not you who should be apologizing.”

“Don’t be like that cyar’ika.” He had said gently, allowing himself to press another kiss to your forehead. “Now come on. It’s late, and you look exhausted.”

The Mandalorian had soon guided you to the cot again, and you had found yourself settled against his chest while wrapped tightly in his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could still see where the child slept soundly, and you had found yourself watching over him as you both laid there together in the darkness. The sound of the littles snores from the small creature, having brought a small smile to your face, before your mind had begun to wander back to earlier times.

“He knows.” You had said out of the blue, your tired voice causing the man’s eyes to flicker open and glance back down to you in his arms.

“Who?”

“The child.” You had replied, finally looking away from where the child slept, as you played and toyed anxiously with Din’s fingers that had intertwined themselves with yours.  “He must have felt it through the force. He could always tell what I was, and could always sense the darkness within me. He’s always known.”

“Hm. Is that why he didn’t like you at first?” Din had teased, and you felt his lips smile against your skin where they had rested themselves earlier.  

“Probably.” You had allowed yourself to chuckle at the thought. The little creature really hadn’t liked you at first, always throwing up a fit and glaring at you when he thought you had gotten too close to Din. “I don’t blame him, the sith and jedi aren’t exactly on good terms.”

“So I’ve heard.”

A smile played on your lips at his reply, and you snuggled yourself more into his chest at the feeling of his hand trailing along your back. The circles he drew causing small shivers and a wave of warmth to flow through you again. The gesture having relaxed you and allowed for your thoughts to teeter on the edge of sleep.

“I meant what I said you know? About everything.” You had mumbled with another yawn, as your eyes struggled to stay open, “I really do love you and Grogu.”

“I know, and we both love you as well.” Din had shushed you, allowing himself to kiss your forehead and mumble his own reassurance again. “Now get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning once you’ve rested, ok?”

You had nodded, resisting the tears that had tried to fall from your eyes again, as you had completely relaxed into his arms now. The need for sleep pulling you closer and closer to the dreamland you had so desired in the moment.

Din on the other hand had continued to draw shapes along your back, his eyes closed, as he murmured and hummed the sweetest of things into the kisses he left along your skin. Somewhere deep inside of your soul you had felt as if you didn’t deserve his kindness and love, but you had found yourself drowning within his affections anyway, clinging to his presence in a refusal to let it go.

The Mandalorian had no plans of letting you go anyway. He would hold you within his embrace and love you for as long as you allowed him to. Through the bad and the good—he’d be by your side even through the toughest of times. After all, you were a part of his little clan of three, and regardless of your past—he loved you like no other.

[yanderart]

   Took me longer since the “drabble” that was supposed to accompany this turned into a kind of extensive one-shot, but here’s the next installment in the Yandere POV series. Inspired by a juicy request from some thoughtful anons!

   Below the cut is, as customary, a fic I wrote exploring the underlying themes of the portrait (creepy best friend tamaki x reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: usual yandere content (delusion, obsession, deceit, etc), explicit noncon, violence, Tamaki making the frienzone his bitch. Generous implementations of the pet name “bunny”.

 .                  

 If you had known the chain of events that would spiral from telling Tamaki about your new relationship… well, perhaps you would’ve stayed quiet. It wasn’t like it was that serious yet either, but you had an inkling (“I really like this one, Tamaki”) that made it worthwhile enough to mention in your book. Remarkable enough to share with your very best friend.  

  Besides, in your defence, you really had no way of knowing just what hid behind his agitated reaction. Nerves stretched thin, voice terse as he congratulated you with a smile that appeared a little too bright, a little too strained. With someone like Tamaki, it was easy to go chalk it all up to his anxiety, stress or an unfortunate mix of both.

  So easy to underestimate him, wasn’t it?

  Nevertheless, there were no uses for any what ifs in your future, speculations and paranoia not even close to creeping up on you yet. So almost a week after your reveal, when you got a call from Tamaki himself, you didn’t even hesitate as you picked it up in the last few dredges of your work shift.

  “Need something?” you answered distractedly as your fingers continued typing on your keyboard, sorting out the last few remnants of some menial task.  

  The prolonged silence however, only brokered by a subtle sound you identified as actual sniffling, was your only response. Your hands stopped mid movements then, brows furrowed with worry.  

  “What’s happening, dear?”

  This time your voice was as calming as you could compel it to be, your tone trying to imbed reassurance into every syllable, “Tamaki?”

  You heard what sounded like a whine, a strangled sound that conjured up an image of tears trailing down his cheeks, bottom lip quivering in a sorrowful grimace.  

  Calling him dear despite having a boyfriend now, it was like you were taunting him.  

  “Bunny,” Tamaki’s voice was shaking as he called you by your old nickname, sobs making it hard to understand anything but how panicked his intonation was. “I-I need you.”

  Thinking your pro-hero friend was having another budding panic attack, or perhaps on the brink of a new stress induced mental breakdown, you were on your feet before he even stopped speaking. The protective side of your brain had overridden any apprehension to leave your post, your hands already reaching to turn off your work computer before you wordlessly left your desk.

  You were working overtime, anyways, and any consequences that came out of going to your friend’s aid were well worth facing in your book. And by that point too, you knew enough of all of their schedules to know yours would be the easiest to clear. Mirio and Nejire had their own heroics to worry about, while you only had an unremarkable office job to account for.  

   Not like he’d want Mirio or Nejire there, though. Not like he would ever call for them when he had you.  

   “I’ll be right there, Tamaki. Please stay put,” was the last thing you told him before hanging up and rushing to get your coat.  

   The urgency in his timbre, the utter need, was all you could think of as you left your building in quickened strides.  

  And by the way you were rushing, it was clear that you actually cared for him, your very best friend. All you needed was a gentle reminder of just how much.

.

  You got to Tamaki’s apartment in a matter of minutes, letting your cab driver keep the change as you stumbled up the stairs in urgent skips. It wasn’t the first time he asked you to be there for him (asked you without actually saying it, because he would never dare utter the words), yet you knew enough of the turmoil he went through on a daily basis. A pro-hero he might be, but his anxiety was his eternally undefeated foe.

  Although was it really that bad if it kept bringing you two together?

  Opening the door into a room enveloped by shadows, you dropped your things without a care before attempting to make your way into the living room.

   Barely a heartbeat later, an audible hitch in someone’s breathing alerted you quickly of your friend’s location.

   “Y/N?” his voice sounded hoarse and choked up as he called for you. And it felt like a fist was squeezing your heart, the same that had been consistently gripping your chest ever since you first picked up the phone in your office.

  “I’m here, dear.“ You comforted him while redirecting your steps to the sound of his trembling voice.  

   Despite the darkness, your eyes were acclimatized enough to distinguish the silhouette of his body hunched over the only sofa in the room. Even without getting a glimpse at his face, you could sense defeat and pessimism oozing off of him in waves. As you got closer, however, he made no movements of retreat, nor flinched away when you sat beside him.  

   Instead, it was like his body started to release all of his pent-up tension as a response to your proximity.

  You were there and it was like he could finally breathe. You were there for him, right where you were meant to be.

  One of your palms was reaching out and drawing quick circles across his back, the thin fabric of his t-shirt bunching up while your voice hummed what you hoped was a tranquilizing melody. With the other one, you clasped one of Tamaki’s own vacant hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, almost as if you were willing the worries to leave his body, a piper’s songs coaxing them out in the form of your enticing presence.  

  By that point, you knew enough about his episodes to know physical contact and reassurance were the fastest ways to get him to come back up from his lowest of lows. So it was no wonder, then, when your reward came quickly in the form of a content sigh leaving his lips, anguish still visible in his posture but his body clearly leaning into the solace you offered.

  The balm you provided had always been intoxicating for him.  

  “I… I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he stuttered through distressed hiccups. He looked so fragile like that, so much like a kicked puppy, that you instinctually wrapped your arm around his waist and hugged him closer to your side.  

  “Oh, Tamaki…,” you shushed with a note of guilt, preoccupied with the fact that he would ever think you’d leave him hanging, “why would you even say that?”

  You could feel his shoulders stiffen in your embrace, his hand tightening around yours for a moment before going limp in your grip. His lack of an answer stung even more.  

  It was ridiculous truly, to feel so protective over a man who was a pro-hero and clearly several times your strength. Even hugging him like you were, his lanky silhouette overshadowed yours in an almost comical portrayal of your height difference.  

  But he was your dearest friend —taking care of him came as second nature.  

  He adored you for it.  

   “You know I could never ignore you when you need me,” you whispered as your thumb drew patterns on the hand you were holding, soft insignificant drawings that to him felt like ancient secrets being exchanged. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

   It was always like this with you two. Tamaki stayed quiet while you rambled on in his ear, trying to scatter any doubts or anxious thoughts still clouding his mind. At first you had thought it’d be annoying for him, overbearing in the worst of senses, but he had quickly insisted that you always knew just what to do to calm him down. You were his best friend, the one person besides Mirio and Nejire who just got him, who truly understood…

   So it only made you feel guiltier, to think that you wouldn’t be able to help him this one time. He was a hero who saved countless lives, someone whose time was worth more than you could ever hope to achieve as a meager civilian. And yet you couldn’t even comfort him as a friend?

  But it wasn’t your fault. You just needed to unlearn your behaviour. And if he truly was your best friend, didn’t you want him to feel loved too?  

   Which was precisely when an idea came to you, an epiphany from above in the form of a vivid memory of the last time you two met up, of the news that had seemingly left Tamaki acting oddly sour.  

   “You didn’t think I’d just forget about you because I have a boyfriend now, did you?,” you joked good-naturedly.  

   Only instead of having the comforting effect you’d hoped, your comment resulted in your friend stiffening even more, his face finally snapping to look at you with hurt written all across his features. The strength was back in the manner in which he was now seizing your hand, clasping it until you started to feel the blood circulation being slowly cut off.  

   “Isn’t that how it works, though?” His question was fretful on his tongue, barely above a whisper and with the slightest hint of resentment. His eyes were impossibly wide, impossibly alert as he studied your reaction, “Isn’t your boyfriend supposed to be your priority? The person you care for the most?”

  But even with the switch in his behaviour and the worrisome path his words were taking, you were still too preoccupied by him to heed any of it. It was just Tamaki over analyzing things, as always, and his anxiety popping in to get the better of him.  

  “Human relationships don’t work like that, dear.” And there the fucking nickname was again, that jest of a loving pet name on your lips. “It’s not a hierarchical structure. I care about both of you in different ways.”

   It felt silly to explain it out loud, to say such an obvious thing, but you couldn’t help wanting to appease some of the conflict eating away at your friend. Did he really think you’d ever drop him for anyone else? You had known Tamaki for years now, cared for him for what felt like a lifetime. The thought alone seemed completely ludicrous to you…

   Even as his touch started hurting, as you felt a stern pressure that would surely become a bruise on your wrist, all you could think of was that this was just Tamaki being Tamaki, right? And you just needed to calm him down, like you always did.  

  He saw the misery on your gorgeous face, the blossoming pain colouring your expression despite your attempts at hiding it. For once, he wasn’t the only one hurting anymore, and he oddly enjoyed that.

“You’re saying that, but why… why can’t I believe you?” It sounded like he was conflicted, tone frantic as he attempted to wrestle down whatever doubts were increasingly plaguing his mind. He tugged at your wrist with a clenched fist, stealing a whimper out of you while his face got closer and closer, “Uh, I bet he doesn’t give you as much trouble either. Bet he takes care of you.”

  I bet you love him was left unsaid. I bet you love him like I wish you loved me.  

  You attempted to push him off with your free hand at that point, discomfort quickly growing into annoyance despite your best intentions of being understanding. You were still under the impression that this was just a moment of clouded thoughts on his part, something bound to pass as he regained a grip of his senses. But the nerves flaring from the strength of his hold were impossible to ignore.

  “Tamaki, let me go first,” you commanded in a carefully composed manner, still attempting not to sound as harsh as you would’ve if this was anyone but your anxiety ridden best friend, “and then we can talk about why you’re feeling like that.”  

  Yet his reaction was abrasive once more, twisting your arm by the wrist harshly until your entire body was collapsing into his.

   “Don’t be like that. Don’t lie to me and tell me everything will be okay,” he was agitated, jittery and unstable in the way his eyes kept darting around. “All of this time I’ve been waiting… waiting to gather the courage…” He was making little sense now, just mumbling while he kept cradled your pained hand between his, a darkened gaze fluttering from your own eyes, to your lips and lastly some obscure point in the wall behind you. “And then you couldn’t wait for me anymore. And now you don’t need me.”

  It was hard to think through the mist of your budding worry and the agony still emanating from your wrist. Somehow, your other arm had stopped fruitlessly hitting him and was instead just trying to keep him at a distance, your neck cramping from how far back you were trying to get yourself.  

   He was impossibly close, intense and expectant as his stare once again found its way to yours. You could still see the doubts twisting there, but it was rapidly becoming eclipsed by a new creeping resolution. Even while you continued silently fighting to escape his grip, as terror encased you and you tried to understand why your best friend was acting like that all of a sudden.  

  After that night, would you perhaps think a villain’s quirk was to blame? Or maybe you’d think one of his enemies had decided to impersonate him in a twisted bid for revenge? Surely you couldn’t accept what the reality was, the fact that his love for you was just that blinding.  

   Don’t worry, though, he’d make you understand.

  Tamaki’s voice was feverish once he broke through the silence again, a new type of determination steadying his usual stutter in a way you’d never heard before.  

  “But I’ll fix that,” and then he was cupping your face with his free hand, your numb one still clutched tightly in his lap while his attention was diverted to your worried expression. “And then you will need me just as much as I need you. Then…“

  And there was a pregnant pause before he continued, a space of time where his stare bore into yours full of hidden meaning, “We can go back to being best friends again.”

Somehow though, on his tongue the term best friends sounded suspiciously like something else entirely.

 “Tamaki, listen…,” you tried again, refusing to quit still, before being interrupted by a terrifying sequence of actions unravelling.

  Because he was tugging your wrist down again after that, but this time twisting and twisting until your entire field of vision filled with the aftermath of an unbearable pain. A snapping sound echoed in your ears, a scream clawing its way out of your throat before you had a notion of what was even happening —Tearing through the rest of your composure, probably hurting his ears just as much as it left your vocal cords feeling raw. By that point, the hand that was previously pushing at his chest with firmness had turned frenzied, clamped fists now carrying the weight of urgency.  

  Tamaki looked halfway surprised at his own actions, halfway scared. Halfway excited, too.  

  Following a pattern of behaviour which did little to deter the horror rapidly embracing you, your so-called friend inhaled thickly before, suddenly and without warning, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes were opened wide as you felt the pressure of his mouth claiming yours, taking advantage of your numb state to persuade you into opening up and allowing an even more intimate intrusion.  

  It has to be a nightmare, you thought in shock as his hands fluttered against your cheeks, sliding down to your neck and massaging your shoulders. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to stay still, where to touch or caress as his lips openly devoured you.  

  He waited so long for this, an eternity of yearning for someone right at his side.

   “T-Tamaki,”i, you willed yourself into speaking up once he broke away from you, gasping for air and with his hair looking as wild as his gaze, “I don’t know what happened but… you’re not being yourself.”

  Were you seriously still trying to deny his feelings? Trying to pretend like it hadn’t taken everything in him to finally gather his courage and just act. What a fucking friend you were.

  If he didn’t love you so much, he’d hate you for that.

  “You need help. Something happened”, you were rambling, too intimidated by the intent with which your friend was now listening to your words. “Once you’re feeling better, we can talk. I… I’ll promise to be understanding.”

  And despite the throbbing sensation in your injured hand, despite the disgust at his actions and unadulterated horror, the worst part was that you really meant it…

  But who were you really trying to convince at that point?

   His hands were still on your shoulders, but the way they squeezed around your flesh reminded you of the talons you had seen him grow with his quirk, sharp nails sinking without a warning and driving more half-hearted cries out of your throat. You looked like a mess now, lips still plump from the force of his kiss, mixed spit clinging to your face from it, fat tears freely cascading down your cheeks.

   “But… Y/N,” his voice was oddly soft when he addressed you again. There was a timid smile back on his face, one that reminded you of the friend you refused to believe no longer existed, and you briefly wondered if you had finally gotten through to him despite the unflinching strength of his grip, “I’ve never felt better.”

   He genuinely sounded so relieved too, so content with the dark implications behind his words, that you felt the blood become icy currents in your veins, liquid fear being pumped instead in its place. Before you even realized your course of actions, you were leaning your head to the side and biting down on one of his arms with everything you had.

   Tamaki was the one groaning then, retreating his hands instinctively and giving you the spare second you needed before you were jumping from the sofa and diving for the door.

  It’s unlocked, was all you could think about as you leapt to the exit. You could get away if you just managed to cross it, run until your legs gave up on you. You could go to your boyfriend’s place and wait there until you had enough courage to reach out to the police, to a hero —to anyone who could help you. Things could still be fixed.  

  And maybe, just maybe, the silliest part of you added, whatever was clouding your best friend’s senses would magically be gone once you had gotten away from his grasp.

  You never knew how to quit, truly. But it was okay, he liked that about you too.  

  A suffocated cry was all the sound you could make as you were fiercely shoved to the floor, your face smashing against the carpet and your nose making a horrifying sound before your entire head felt like it was on fire. The white-hot pain was all you could think of, the dam lifting entirely from your eyes as tears trickled down your cheeks in copious amounts.

  “D-don’t make me hurt y-you,” Tamaki didn’t sound at all winded, but anxious, pained himself from the wounds he had to inflict on you, “I want to make you feel good, not like… like this.”

  Which only made it more fucked up when, once you started fighting again, you felt the unmistakable pressure of a growing erection pushing against your lower back. As pained as you were, you willed yourself to keep struggling after that, trying fruitlessly to get away or somehow kick him, bite him, do anything in your power.  

  In all honesty, it only made him get more excited. He really was a sick, sick man. But only for you.

  “Stop, Y/N,” Tamaki pleaded in hushed whispers, his hands shaking as he tried to comb your hair out of the way. There was blood pooling around your face, flowing freely from the place your nose had smashed into the floor. You could barely breathe through it, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you attempted to otherwise fill your lungs through panicked gasps, "If you… if you stop, I’ll stop too.”  

  It was easy to recognize the lie as soon as it was uttered, a poor excuse for deceit as his hips stuttered into yours almost of their own volition. You heard him curse then, right as you both noticed that all your wrestling did was just press yourself harder against his arousal.

   However, before you could voice your growing terror, one of his hands was suddenly on your back, drawing circles in a mocking imitation of how you had tried comforting him earlier. The sickness in the pit of your stomach at that gesture, that feeble attempt at consolation, was all you could think about as the tears of impotence continued furiously trickling down your cheek.  

   You were disgusted, not only at the monster humping you as he continued mumbling poor excuses and null reassurances, but also sick at yourself for willingly going there to attempt to help him in the first place. You couldn’t believe part of you still stuttered to call him your friend moments ago, yet, even through your disgust, you’d also be lying if you didn’t admit how hard it was reconciling your aggressor with the soft spoken boy you had grown to foolishly treasure.

   “I’ve wanted you for so long,” his voice tickled one of your ears as he allowed himself to continue resting more and more of his weight on you, almost suffocating you under the pressure. He wasn’t even pretending like his hands weren’t wandering now, palms still mockingly gentle in their nervousness, but stopping his poor attempts at consolation long enough to grip your shirt and lift it up. “I don’t even remember what it felt like not to want you.”

   You wished you could scream again, but breathing was already such a laborious task between your fractured nose and Tamaki’s hold. When you refused to turn on your back after he gently nudged you, his hands just closed tighter around your top and tore it apart from your body, leaving you shivering —not due to the cold but due to a fear and impotence that trumped any temperature.  

   Then, because he couldn’t even leave you to suffer in peace, you felt the torn fabric of your shirt being pressed against the side of your face, prodding you with a meekness that felt completely out of place as the cloth started to soak in the blood gathering around you.

   “Press it against your nose, so it stops the bleeding.” He continued softly tapping it against your cheek until your unharmed hand went to roughly retrieve it out of his and do as he preached.

  You could’ve told him nosebleeds didn’t exactly work like that when you had a busted nose, that just pressing a piece of cloth wasn’t going to help your case much (or that his kindness was void, when he was the reason you why were bleeding in the first place), but all of that implied talking, and right now all you wanted to do was shut up, pass out, dissociate. Whatever it took to ignore his fingers now drifting to the hem of your pants.

  Yet he just wanted to take care of you. So why wouldn’t you let him? You were making it so difficult, when all Tamaki only ever wanted was to make you feel loved. Loved by him.  

  “You… hmm, you aren’t going to trust me right now,” it appeared like he was fidgeting with the waistband of your work pants as he drew out the admission, the thrumming in his voice sheepish and uncertain. It reminded you of how he would sound like when he attempted to talk to strangers, forcing himself into being pro-hero levels of courageous just so he could exchange a few words, “But that’s okay, Y/N, because you’ll understand.” One of his hands ghosted the plush curve of your ass, so lightly that you could’ve thought you imagined it in any other situation, “And when you do, you… you can break up with your boyfriend then. Things can go back to how they were. To just us.”

  The image of your partner crowded your thoughts then, his kind smile being conjured up in your mind as you heard your pants being torn apart next. It was enough to have you openly sobbing, biting down on the fabric of your ruined shirt as you tried to quiet down the sound of your own grief.

  But you’d thank him soon, once you understood. You already loved him before…so how hard could it be to love him again, but properly this time? To show him how much he knew you cared.  

  Once the remnants of your pants were thrown aside as well, you didn’t even get the luxury to cross your legs and put any kind of further struggle. Tamaki sat up on top of you, relenting the pressure in your chest and waist but comfortably setting himself on your hips, his legs encasing your thighs in an inescapable prison.  

  You could almost sense his eyes scanning your exposed flesh, hear his delirious muttering as his fingers got greedier and greedier in the paths they weaved across your body, the quick circles from before being exchanged by longer, drawn out movements. It felt like he was memorizing a map, with every little scar and indent in your complexion being the marks leading down to a hidden treasure, wonders to marvel at and inspect.  

 “I’m sorry, but I’ve dreamed of this for so long…” His tone was barely above a reverent whisper as you felt him finally reach your bra, unclasping it with a shaking that could only be attributed to unrestrained excitement, “dreamt of you even while awake.” He parted the fabric and left it precariously hanging off your sides on the carpeted floor, hands ceremoniously splaying across your shoulder blades next, “But you feel so different from anything I could’ve come up with. So much softer.”

  His lips were on your back in an instant, almost as if he just couldn’t help himself, and he was sucking and licking while trying to cover up the sounds of his own elation. The slow grinding against your backside had stopped, though, and the weight of his heated groin lifted from your back for the first time since you had been crushed to the floor. It was such a relief, to be able to move again (even if you weren’t foolish enough to try and get away by that point), that you didn’t even realize the alleviated sigh managing to escape your mouth until it was too late.  

  You felt Tamaki’s lips curling against your spine, the satisfaction in his gesture crystal clear.  

  “Does this feel good, bunny?,” he asked you in a pleased little rumble, mistaking your sounds of relief for something else altogether. “Does it feel good when I kiss you like this?” He pointed his question by leaving another sloppy flutter of his lips against the nape of your neck.  

   But then his presence disappeared from your back altogether, a moment so brief that hopefulness could not even begin to be reborn before it was crushed at your feet. Because before you could savour the retreat,Tamaki was now grasping and lifting your hips with his arms, deft hands sliding the lone piece of underwear still hiding your modesty from his prying eyes.  

 You briefly wondered why he hadn’t just ripped it apart like he’d done with the rest of the items that got in the way, but the distinct sound of someone sniffing gave you all the answers you needed. Deep, earnest inhales followed by a purr of satisfaction. Goosebumps blossomed across your body from disgust.  

  But to him, that was just another sign of you being into it. You were just too stubborn to admit it, weren’t you, bunny?

  “I’ll make sure to kiss you all over.” Your eyes were closed with such force, your intact hand losing colour from the strength you were using to grip the torn piece of fabric against your mouth. “If… if I’m honest”, and he was back to sounding sheepish, contradictorily embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one carrying out the assault, “Bunny, I’ve been wondering how your moans sound for the longest time, too.”

  If you weren’t as determined not to let a single sound slip out, you would’ve gagged. But all thoughts of Tamaki’s words were soon replaced by his actions, cold calloused hands snaking between your legs as the pro-hero’s arms kept a secured grip that made sure you could not wiggle out of his grasp. He was hunching over you again, dark purple hair tickling your thighs, and your exposed entrance twitched as a gust of air was blown directly into it.  

  You wanted so badly to cry out, to protest again, but you were afraid of ever loosening your grip on the fabric that covered your mouth. So instead you tried to steer your body, not to get away but to move your damaged hand until it was being crushed by your own chest, new waves of pain radiating off of it in order to distract you.

 Were you that afraid of liking it, that you’d take your own pain over the pleasure he’d deliver?

  “Bunny,” he groaned that nickname again, laying a bed of kisses across your inner thighs, slobbering and disorganized while his hands kneaded your flesh with acute urgency. “Y/N…”, your name was chanted like prayer, the holiest of incantations being whispered into the flourishing goosebumps of your inner legs.

  It was hard not to squirm when you physically felt his voice reverberating through your body, when the hands holding you up were so excruciatingly close to your now quivering hole. Even while fear coursed through your veins, what you dreaded the most was the way heat was starting to pool in your stomach.  

  You tried pressing harder against the limp hand below you, but Tamaki’s arms steadied you from their place around your legs before you had the chance to properly act.  

  “Stop trying to hurt yourself, please,” and to his credit, he actually sounded anguished himself, although you doubted it was due to the same reasons you were currently suffering. “I want to make you feel good, bunny. Please… please let me.”

  He was kissing the skin of your thighs again before you had the opportunity to argue (not that you’d consider willingly opening your mouth again by that point). Your assailant trailed a path of shivers until he was hovering over your mound, tickling you with his quickened breathing as a wanton groan reached your ears.  

  “So beautiful,“ and his nose was pressing against you, face nuzzling your cunt with such an affection that only helped to make you feel infinitely dirtier, his voice dripping with reverence. “My bunny’s beautiful little pussy.”

  You were wriggling again before you could attempt to calm yourself down, the alarms that had never stopped blaring now drowning any other thoughts circling your mind. But you had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, and before another moment passed your entire body was tensing up again when you felt a wet appendage slowly licking up your folds.

  He explored you through the movements of his tongue, guttural sounds of appraisal being smothered as he tasted your plush folds for the very first time. Even without the aid of his arms, still holding you up as they were, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he did not need them in order to thoroughly savour you.

  So long he had been deprived of all sustenance, teased by your hugs and touches and left to starve while you went to seek affection elsewhere. Maybe he was undeserving, but could anyone blame him for finally snapping after so long? For finally, for once, daring to be selfish enough to demand.

  “Delicious,” his trembling compliment was proclaimed between licks, lips slowly journeying their way to your clit before he was audibly sucking it in, his own whines echoing through your entire body once more and making you bite down harder on the bloodstained cloth. “And… you’re getting wet for me too,“ which was only accentuated by the lascivious sounds he made as he started lapping at your rapidly gathering juices. “Am I making you feel good, bunny?”

  Shut up, you wanted to scream, shut up and just be done with it. But it was getting so hard to concentrate, your fingers cramping from the force you were using to keep the piece of your torn up shirt tightly in place. He kept gingerly savouring your unwilling excitement, relentless in the way his tongue continued teasing and prodding, even dipping into your heat as his gluttony for you became an unbearable constant.  

  When you felt one of his hands descend from your thighs, the sound of a belt being unbuckled, your eyes opened up again in fear. You almost stopped biting down on your shirt in order to voice one last protest, but then his mouth was wrapping itself harder still around your bundle of nerves —shoots of a pleasure you tried to ignore warming their way further up your stomach as the unwanted thrills in your gut built up to a crescendo.

  “Fu… fuck, Bunny,” he sounded so needy between the squelching sounds filling the darkened room. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

  You shook your head as the pressure kept building up, muscles cramping and your one free leg attempting to kick him out fruitlessly. Your head was filled with the cries you could not voice, heavy with an agony that far exceeded any physical turmoil. You wished the pain was enough to pass out, to mute the heat coiling up further and further, but such was your plight that not even the faintest mercy was granted.  

  Although even your silent rejection only served as encouragement in Tamaki’s mind. It was the first time you were acknowledging him, the first time you were responding to any of his comments after he had tackled you to the floor. Even with your mouth covered, the tears now dried against your mascara stricken cheeks, it felt to him like the sign he had been waiting for.  

  It only drove him madder.

  You heard clothing being tugged down while he kept the eager rhythm of his tongue on you, pants and boxers being discarded in one go to free a surely painfully aching erection. Not long after that, his breathing became even more ragged against your core, one of his shoulders moving against your thighs rhythmically while his previously free hand stroked himself for some much needed relief.

  The sounds he started to make, accompanied by the slow pace he was setting as he tugged at his own cock against your dangling legs, were ones of desperation and debauchery—whines that filled you up right alongside his intruding tongue. It made you curl your toes, close your eyes again as you tried and failed to will the sensations away.  

  You thought your teeth would snap at any moment too, just from how furiously you were biting down. Yet your cunt kept pulsating against his flushed face, answering to his relentless teasing by coating his mouth in more your juices, strings of saliva mingling with them as you felt the wetness gathering around his chin too.  

  “You… you don’t need to fight it,“ he was whispering right into you, humming the sounds until they were forcing themselves inside right alongside his tongue. “You can cum, Y/N,” and with the hand he wasn’t touching himself with, he finally freed your other thigh as well, opting instead to trail a path with his extended palm until he was reaching out for your face.

  You were so tired, so preoccupied with the unwanted pleasure clouding your vision, that the thought of attempting to escape again didn’t even cross your mind. Both of your legs were now limp, supported only by his shoulders positioned below them, and the sounds filling the air were wet, squelching and downright sinful.  

  Which was why, when his palm started caressing your cheek, you were too far gone to run from the new coercive intimacy of his touch. His tongue was pulsating in and out of you, and yet your insides felt impossibly warm, impossibly empty.  

  “Bunny,“ that damned pet name again. It was something you remembered him calling you first after a particularly bad panic attack, sheepishly whispered as you held him and rocked the both of you in a calming motion. Only now it sounded absolutely depraved, filled with a lust that terrified you, and the word sullied as it was now half-moaned while Tamaki jerked himself off to your torment.  

  Or was it pleasure at that point? You kept wriggling, but he didnt think you wanted to get away anymore.  

  Some part of you noticed his rough fingers drawing circles again into the covered side of your face, another cruel joke that mimicked the way in which you had always thought appropriate to soothe him.  

  “Please,” he begged you and kept repeating it, mixing in the pleads with the insistent licks of his tongue, the shaking in his own face warning you of the furious pace his other hand was now setting for himself.

  Please, please, please. Bunny, please.

  Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, gasping for air and with a new current of despair trailing down from your dazed eyes, mimicking the arousal surely dripping down his lips.  

  You had never felt something like what you were experiencing, an orgasm so potent that it transformed your body into such a limp and pliant thing, enticing your mind into a forceful lull as Tamaki dedicated himself to drinking every last drop you unwillingly offered.

  To your subsequent shame, the hand tenderly holding you pried the crumpled shirt away from your mouth. He was finally freeing the sounds you so selfishly kept from him, and by that point you were too far gone to think of stopping him, your cries and wails filling up the shadows of the room until they were bursting at the seams.  

  It felt like forever as you kept cumming and cumming, feeling like you were forcefully plunged from one climax straight into the next. Tamaki refused to separate from your heat, instead opting for continuing to mouth his appreciation right into your tender flesh.  

  “So gorgeous for me. So good. My sweet little bunny,” he wasn’t even trying to be coherent at that point, rapidly reaching his own peak now that he had you breaking down underneath him, now that he could finally witness your undoing at his hands.

  While your orgasm reached its shaking end, however, your cunt clenching against nothing as Tamaki’s face finally left it alone and pulled back, you were again too preoccupied with the aftermath of your own pleasure to sense anything amiss. You failed to acknowledge the pause in his own movements, how his hand had stopped his own ministrations in order to reach out for your glistening folds instead, nervous digits twitching as they gathered your juices between them.  

  It almost hurt when he trailed your sex, your flesh sensitive still from the force of the after shakes still coursing through your body. A new unfiltered whine left your throat, jaw starting to ache from all the strength you had previously used in your bid to keep those very same sounds securely muted.  

  “Tamaki, please…” You sobbed, intending on pleading with him to stop, to grant you the mercy of wallowing in your shame all by yourself.  

  But all he could hear was the intoxicating sound of his name on your lips, your tone heavy from exhaustion and being utterly spent. It was the greatest melody you could’ve provided him with.

  “F-fuck,” his exclamation was equal parts devotion and raw need.  

  After his fingers were retreating, it wasn’t long before you felt him lowering your hips gently. The warm pressure of his cock prodded at your entrance, already coated with your fluids and only getting messier as Tamaki trailed it up and down your slit.

  “No, wait. Tamaki, wait,“ your voice was distraught and still feeble, what little struggle that still managed to cling to you coming back with a reckoning as a new kind of panic started setting in.  

  Of course he wasn’t wearing a condom, and of course your pleas did little to stop him now. A heartfelt sound of protest shook your vocal cords as he slowly breached your cunt, his cock sliding in inch by inch while drawing long, wet sounds out of you.

  In reality, all he could hear was the sound of his name on your lips. You could’ve been insulting him with all of your might, Tamaki didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself even if he wanted to.

  “Fuck, Bunny,” his hands fluttered between your thighs in hiccuped movements, fingers stretching your nether lips in order to give himself a better view of the place where your bodies joined, the sacrilegious union he had oh so desired for years now. “So,, he kept breaking into you inch by inch, “fucking,“ the length of him feeling eternal as he sheathed himself, “perfect.”

  You had barely any time to adjust to being stuffed before apologies were scattering out of his mouth, actions contradicting as his hips rut into you, hands making sure to keep you on display for his gluttonous eyes. It was your new brand of torment— how snug he fitted inside, how full you felt and the way his shaft curved just enough to quickly turn any discomfort you were first experiencing on its head. You wanted to feel pain, but even that was out of your reach too.

  You were chasing after a distraction, but why did you need to be running in the first place? You needed only to keep still, lay back and let your best friend take care of you for once.

  The pace he set was slow, excruciatingly so as he savoured the way in which your cunt clenched around him, the way your walls spasmed with the memory of the orgasms he gifted you with earlier. He kept hitting that spot every few shallow thrusts too, the patch of skin on your insides that made you grind your teeth while whines still somehow managed to leak out. It was with maddening guilt, then, that your mind realized the extent with which your body truly welcomed him.  

  You felt dirty, violated by a man you had trusted for years, someone you had considered family beyond reproach. And while he kept drilling into you in that leisure way of his, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you had done to get him to obsess over you like that. What exactly you could’ve changed to stop your life from being utterly ruined.  

  But with all honesty, the answer to that was nothing. Because even without the pressure of your new boyfriend to pull him into motion, Tamaki doubted he would’ve been able to keep himself from you for much longer.

 He had loved you for so long and for so many different reasons; Your laughter which was the greatest symphony to his ears, the kindness you had always embraced him with, free of judgement and ulterior motives. Your caring soul, too, and the way in which he just knew you understood.

  “Please, please,“ and you didn’t know why you kept begging, your mouth running off on its own accord as your body tried to squirm against your intruder’s, unclear whether it wanted to escape or get even closer. “T-Tamaki.”

  But most of all, he thought he loved the way you cried out while he fucked you now, a wrecked mess for his eyes alone.  

  “Do you think you can come again for me?” he asked you between frayed exhales, still oddly meek as the shallow thrusts into your hole made sweat drip down his skin and bathe you in its shine. “I know you must be tired but… I wanna… wanna hear it properly.” And there was an underlying greed just below his apologetic tone, a craving you wondered just how long had been there waiting to be let out, “Wanna feel it, too.”

  It appeared like his own words excited him to a notorious degree, because he was rutting into you with quicker motions now, the sound of skin slapping against skin driving the despair even further into your heart. Your afflicted hand didn’t even throb anymore, your nose barely a faint nuisance either, for all you could think about was the way you contracted around him, the way the coil in your gut was once more beginning to tighten to a feverish degree.  

  And the palm against your clit too, which had stopped pressing against it in order to extend its fingers and circle them around, prodding and pushing until you were being overwhelmed by him, devoured on the carpeted floor with a face caked in blood and a body sore and resentful yet so damned inviting.  

  Your cunt was holding him so tight, it felt like you didn’t want to let go, like you needed him there… it made Tamaki, someone who had spent his entire life feeling different degrees of inadequate, think he had finally found a place to belong to.

  “Shit, Y/N, you’re… really gonna cum again? For me?” You didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to feel him, but when he pulled out almost entirely you found your hips shamefully pushing back until his length was being swallowed whole again. “Fuck,” you heard him curse as his hands left your sopping folds in order to grip the meat of your backside, barely contained strength nailing you to the spot as he set a new frantic rhythm, “so… needy for me. So tight and beautiful, does my bunny want it harder now?”

  He was hitting your spot in relentless movements, his own hips stuttering as he strived to hold back his own impending end, and the groans coming out of you felt like they belonged to a different person. The tears in your eyes were still free falling, the taste of dried blood still covering your tongue as you continued audibly panting, and the tension in your muscles resembled a taut bowstring about to snap from the pressure.  

 Of course you didn’t answer, but you didn’t have to when your body spoke for you.

  His pace was bruising, his hands kneading your flesh as he angled you just enough to get even deeper inside you. Yet not deep enough.  

  “I love you so goddamn much,“ one of his palms left your rear so he could grab one of your shoulders, forcing you to arch back just as he demanded. “Let me show you just how much, baby.”

  By that point you were so tired, so drained from holding back, that you allowed him to manhandle you until your back was pressed flush against his stomach.  His palm snaked their way from your shoulders to your chest, quickly pushing what little of your unhooked bra still clung to your frame so he could fully expose your breasts to his zealous treatment.  

  Your nipples were hard already, you really were loving this, weren’t you?

  In this new position, it somehow felt like he was pushing against places you had never felt anyone reach before. Like, in a way, he was bruising your cervix with every one of his overeager thrusts, testing himself in order to go as far as your body would allow him. So fucking greedy for you.

  Tamaki kept massaging your breasts while he fucked you, sensitive nipples being lightly toyed with while he buried his face in your neck from behind for an instant. Because unable to stay still as he was, soon enough his lips had started to kiss a slobbering path of adoration upwards into the shell of one of your ears.  

  “I know you… fuck, know you don’t love me like that yet,” he sounded feverish while he continued to thrust into you, voice faltering to the weight of his own lust, “but it’s okay. Right now…” He pulled out almost entirely again, only to dive in with all the more resolve before you had the chance to buck into him a second time, “I can love you enough for the both of us.”

  And just like that, with the man you had previously considered your best friend whispering delirious nonsense behind you, his breath tickling your nape with each aggravating declaration, was when the overwhelming wave of your new orgasm hit you, shaking your entire body.

  So fucking tight and needy for him. With your body clamoring for him like it did, who could blame him for foolishly thinking you felt the same way? Even if you tried refuting it afterwards, the way your walls clenched around him so delectably was all the honesty he needed.

  Your body went limp in his hands a second time, for him to hold up and embrace as he saw fit, and you sensed the cadence of his motions grow even frenzier before finally slowing down into a sporadic rythm, his sex twitching inside you in a most telling way.  

  He was calling out your name in a litany of prayers, biting down on the skin he had gently been nursing before, teeth piercing you and joining the rest of the sensations overwhelming your spoiled body. And that was really all the warning you got before his release was spilled deep inside you, painting your walls in thick ropes of white while the remnants of your powerful orgasm proceeded to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

  Through the mess of pleasure and shame clouding your vision, your sobbing became even louder.

  “See, Y/N,” Tamaki whispered a few instants later, back to his nervous ways despite grinning timidly while his arms circled around you, “even if you tell me you care about someone else now, I’ll know you’ll never share with them what you shared with me.”

  And it was such a ridiculous thing to say, preposterous words to proclaim as he refused to pull out and let any drop of his cum leak out of your bruised hole, as the heated hands on your skin replicated the same old patterns you had taught him inadvertently, the same motions supposed to bring comfort and which in reality only made you feel fouler.

  “If you’d like, we can be an even more special type of best friends now,” he added after barely a beat, almost self-conscious when confronted with your somber silence, yet still bashfully content about the whole ordeal.

  Best friends, you repeated inwardly while his hands kept stroking you without pause, perhaps truly trying to console you, or perhaps just wanting an excuse not to leave you alone. But you were so tired, so devastated, that it wasn’t like you had the strength to refute him verbally.  

 In Tamaki’s delusional mind, however, that was as good as agreeing. You two were really meant to be. Even if you refused to be the special kind of best friends he had in mind, he could always become your boyfriend instead.  

  Not like you were ever going to see your previous one, anyways.

  …

   Probably the longest piece of writing I’ve posted so far… and the filthiest. If people like it, I might start extending the lenght of my fics! Otherwise I’ll try to keep it on the shorter side for my next portrait/fic convo (a yan!aizawa one hehe).

   And special thanks to my dearest pals @reinawritesbnha, @drxwsyni, @snappysnapo, @thermaflute​ and @coyambition​. They helped me proof read, gave me precious feedback on both my writings and my art and were just overall sweethearts hyping me up!! love y’all fr fr 🖤

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN btw 🥀