#<- some people are getting way to comfortable bullying fic tropes

[quinnick]

I understand a lot of people have strong opinions about fanfics and that’s all okay. But try to remember that fanfic is FREE. If you don’t like a certain fanfic, don’t talk about it. Instead of being a dick you could try minding your own business

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

[sunboki]

⎯ SUMMER SOLACE. a StrayKids fiction

Stray Kids x implied! fem. reader (no poly)

TROPE. friends to lovers (not really lovers, more just strangers to friends), summerschool! au, reader is in student council as class prez

WORD COUNT. 12.6k words

PLAYLIST.

WARNINGS. cursing, very troubled childhoods, han lacks parental figures, minho’s mother passed, bullies, evidence of physical violence, mentions of depression & anxiety, just overall very angsty themes, healing, sadness, comfort comfort comfort — ALL OF THE ISSUES/TROUBLES OF CHARACTERS ARE 100% FICTION

AUG'S NOTES. i hope whatever you’re going through works out in the end, and that reading this very indulgent fic can help heal a part of you and get you through summertime sadness — inspiration for the fic came from this!

SYNOPSIS. It was never your intention to be the one in charge of a summer school class—a troubled summer school class, but here you were. Eight boys in this classroom, all with their individual stories and silenced opinions. And somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to give up on them.

or alternatively :

Eight kids, one purpose. Get them to be okay with one another — with themselves — by the end of the summer.

Eight kids, one purpose.

Get them to be okay with one another.

Although, you didn’t realize that yet. That your Class President position would throw you right into such a mess (or what you referred to it as the first time you got word).

We all have the things we hate. The things we say we “heavily dislike”. But in reality, we hate it. It incessantly grates our nerves, has our patience forming into a ticking pipe bomb, enough that sometimes, we explode. Say things we don’t mean, get angry, get mad. 

The thing that sets these boys apart, according to the acknowledgements paper you were given, is that they don’t even try to be sweet, they don’t ask for forgiveness. Not towards one another, and most certainly not towards anything else. 

Your job is just as you said. Get them to be okay with one another. 

Catch? There’s a time limit. 

Twelve weeks of summer school. 

Twelve weeks for eight boys to, no, not be nice to each other, not be best friends (not even friends), but just to be okay with being in the same room, be within six feet of each other without tearing someone’s throat — or their own — out.

Is it simple? Absolutely not. 

You want to try though, because up till now, everyone has given up on these boys. People that the school district have deemed always successful have pushed them aside, called them impossible. 

You won’t be the next to give up. 

Twenty chairs in the classroom, yet not two sit next to each other, spaced out by at least three chairs per person. 

Your roster sits upon your desk, listing their names by alphabetical order. 

(Sitting on the furthest end of the classroom) Bahng, Christopher - nickname: Chan

He’s a football player (god knows how), who, despite hardly showing up to practices and arriving to random games—is always responsible for their wins. In some way you’re sure that’s the only reason he hasn’t been kicked off. 

Christopher’s an interesting case. 

He’s got amazing grades and passes school without fail, but no one has any clue about his home situation or whether he even has a home or not. You’re told he’s extremely distant and closed off, sort of void to life. He was sent due to excessive absences.

2. (Planted dead front of the class) Han, Jisung 

His record states he’s been sent to the counselor eleven times in the first two weeks of school for disruptions and inappropriate behavior. Jisung has an older brother who’s valedictorian, but they never speak to one another and don’t seem to have the best relationship. He’s said to be obnoxiously straight-forward and senseless, you wonder if it’s true.

3. (Nearest to the window on your right) Hwang, Hyunjin

Despite his popular facade, Hyunjin is regarded as the “troublesome face-card” by many deans and counselors alike. Students adore his looks, but he couldn’t butt heads more with Jisung, and they’re often sent out together. Hyunjin is believed to have a worrisome superiority complex according to the last counselor he’s been seen by.  

4. (Opposite of Hyunjin across the classroom) Kim, Seungmin

Not much has been recorded as far as Seungmin goes. He’s apparently a huge instigator in lots of illegal activity surrounding campus, but no one’s certain. His last counselor claimed he stayed silent throughout his consultation and answered suspiciously vague for almost every question. 

5. (A few seats behind Jisung) Lee, Felix

Both him and Christopher have been reported for vandalizing parts of the school in odd, incomprehensible words like “Miroh” and “Maze of Memories”. Some gossip that they’re secretly a part of an underground gang. But upon first glance, Felix looks harmle—

A hand raising grabs your attention. It’s Jisung, wearing a grin when you nod for him to speak. 

“How much for a tit-pic, Teach?”

Everyone is silent, and you hear Hyunjin stifle a snicker in the distance. 

So this is what they meant by inappropriate behavior.

The corner of your lips twitch slightly, but you successfully maintain an unnerved expression, instead, smiling back at him. 

“Let’s not ask questions like that, alright?”

Jisung amusedly huffs, still eyeing you incredulously. Although, he doesn’t say any more, and you continue down the roster’s descriptions.

Lee Minho whose info is conspicuously sparse , Seo Changbin who lashes out randomly without clear conscience (some claim he’s bipolar, you think different), and Yang Jeongin remain, bio’s dotted in unspecified theft attempts, assumed messy family situations and brief mentions of mental illness that seems to a follow a similar pattern to the rest. 

Stacking the papers upon your desk, you card eight sheets of notebook paper from the drawer, walking through rows of desks to pass each boy a slip. 

All eyes are on you now, and your breathing feels excessively loud in the stifling quietness. 

Lightly clapping your hands together in hopes of stirring some sort of sound in this stale air, you speak as fluidly and audibly as your voice will let you. 

“Today’s assignment is simple. I want you to write everything about yourself.”

Confused brows lift, primarily from Minho.

“Whether it’s what you like to do, what you don’t like to do, your favorite things, your favorite places, books, movies.”

Another hand raises. Changbin, you remember his name.

“Yes?”

“We’re not in fifth fuckin’ grade.” He growls, words booming. That was another complaint: Changbin’s explosively unprovoked opinions. 

Biting back the urge to snap back, you place both hands on the podium at the front of the class, essentially grounding yourself. 

“Yes, well this is—“ 

Somebody grumbles an incoherent sentence, and Changbin is immediately on his feet, chair squealing, eyes wild with fury. 

Second complaint: his flaming temper. 

Grabbing a fistful of Chan’s shirt (presumably the one who muttered), he sizes up the taller boy, spitting wild curses.

Inhaling deeply, you approach them, withholding the instinct to wince at Changbin’s yelling. 

“Changbin, please go back to your seat,” You usher, watching them never take their eyes off one another. Chan is eerily unmoved, though effortlessly intimidating nevertheless. 

The former spins around, shoving the other boy off to the side and resorting to sizing you up now, chin lifted, gaze belittling. 

One press and you’ll have assistance come in and help. You remind yourself, referring to the small red button residing in your pocket that sends a direct call to the other counselors. 

What good will that do? Your first step is getting them to be okay with you, not to mention each other.

No. You can do this, you’ll be fine. 

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” He spits, glaring as you back up the more he steps forward. That is till you stop and cause him to stop as well, leaving only a few centimeters separating your faces. 

“Because,” You ease, shoving a finger into the center of his chest sternly. “I’m your teacher now, and you’re stuck with me. So deal with it.” 

Tilting your head, you meet his eyes, hooded behind a veil of black hair. 

“I’m sure a fifth grader could understand that, right?”

And with that, you point to his seat and spin on your heel, taking a seat and watching the boys, one by one, lower their heads and begin writing. Well, excluding Changbin, who’s hands stick by his sides, staring at you. 

He chews his lip then turns around, shuffling back to his desk. 

By the time the dismissal bell echoes, you would like to say you see light in the distance, but the endless tunnel ahead tells you you’re far from even beginning.

Glasses propped on the bridge of your nose, you sort through the papers, carefully observing each one.

It’s a Friday evening, meaning you’re given a meager two days to inhale as much information as possible for the approaching week. 

There’s a variety of answers on the papers, from some stating only a song they like or others more of a list-type structure. Felix apparently bakes in his free time and has two sisters while Jeongin plays piano. Although, a certain paper in particular stands out to you. 

Han’s.

Only his name is written, nothing else. You’re not sure if it’s a matter of his laziness or carelessness toward the assignment, but clear as day, dead center of his paper, is simply his name. 

You at least anticipated some kind of response, like an offensive joke or something, but no. Just: Han Jisung.

Interesting.

A sudden buzzing redirects your attention. It’s from Chaeryoung, cheerily asking about how the first day went along with spilling details about her own day as well. 

So far, things are going well. So far. 

Not permanent. Just like how you haven’t permanently tamed the beast named Changbin. 

And, although you hate such a mindset, realistically, it’s only a matter of time until something goes wrong. 

“Chae,” You echo, the faint rustling of your papers sounding on your side of the line. She hums.

“What do you think about this one.”

A grunt of acknowledgement is heard.

You sidle to another sheet; Han’s will have to wait for another occasion.

“Hwang Hyunjin. Said to be trouble-some, argues a lot, apparent superiority complex.”

Although your senior, Chaeryoung has always been a helping hand—a soul to rely on through the rocky periods, your rocky periods.  

“Hmm..” She considers, seeming to weigh the matter for a moment. “Have you seen his grades?”

Odd question.

“Straight A student according to his records.”

Impressive. Each quarter, top-scores. 

Well, it makes sense for the superiority portion in the case he uses his grades to hang over others heads, but the rest is strange, making it unusual for him to behave so brashly.

Or, maybe it wasn’t unusual, but overlooked.

As if reading your mind, she utters the same words you’d planned to.

“Anxiety?”

Said in unison, you both burst into laughter. Her blindingly bright laugh sends warmth throughout your stomach, easing the droning headache building between your temples. 

Hours you’ve spent glaring at the same papers, determined to locate something, anything as a way to help them. A problem to find a solution.

Yet, each case was different—personal to each boy in a sense you couldn’t assign an overall solution.

Instead, you pinpointed one case at a time. 

Starting with Hwang Hyunjin.

However, his wasn’t an easy fix. As a high school student, it was virtually impossible to “fix” anxiety (if that was even the issue at hand at all).

Everyone had it in their system. Upcoming tests, pressure. 

It was also impossible to really “fix” anybody generally, meaning, more or less, you had to find a way to help them want to help themselves.

With Hwang Hyunjin though, his, stated in the page’s description saying: Cares little to nothing about grades, wasn’t a testing anxiety of a sort, but maybe a tad bit deeper, barely visible without a sharper, clearer lense. 

“Send me a pic of the sheet, can you?” She begins, startling the hypothesizing from your mind. 

Again, an odd question, but you oblige, swiping off the calling tab to snap a quick picture. 

A long silence situates itself between you, presumably Chaeryoung investigating his information.

Strangely, you feel like a detective. Climbing skyscrapers to find a solution to a problem nobody addressed until it became horridly powerful—possessing, now fallen in your hands to solve. 

You refused to let their problems ruin them. And although becoming a illegitimate teacher wasn’t the plan for your senior year, you doubt you could back away at this point, not when you had already unearthed the treasure chest.

Last step was finding the key.

Well, detectives are equipped with a magnifying glass for a reason, right?

…

“… His drawings are pretty good?”

Then do you notice the doodles in the far corner of his introductory paper, a flower, a few butterflies, and a dog.. of a sort. Chihuahua-looking. 

“C’mon Chaeryoung, take this seriously,” Lightly scolding, you sigh, wetting your lips whilst flipping to the back of the page. 

It’s a quick script of things he enjoys, accounts from students he knows or that know him, overall containing an overview of his person. 

Hyunjin gets in lots of arguments with Han Jisung. 

You know that much. 

Your finger slips down the page, scouring each sentence.

XXXX: Hyunjin likes drawing. I’ve seen him drawing at his desk before. 

Baseless information, the doodles prove that—

Hold on. 

“Chae, when you’re anxious, do you have a reliever? Like doing something, listening to something?”

She chuckles, clattering of dishes in the background causing you to cringe slightly.

“Dancing, you know this. I’m not going to Hanlim Art School for nothing.” Teasingly voiced, you frown, deciding not to egg on her sarcasm.

“Then do you think, where it says he gets in arguments a lot, he’s projecting that anxiety when arguing because he doesn’t have a reliever?”

She clicks her tongue.

“Could be. But we don’t really know Hyunjin, yeah? It could be something deeper Y/nnie. You can’t look surface level when it comes to these guys.”

You sigh, rolling back your shoulders.

“You’re right, but I’m still gonna try it. I need to get through to him that I want to help him somehow, so I might as well exhaust all my options.”

You can’t look surface level when it comes to these guys. A phrase truthful to its fullest extent. 

“…Try what?”

Ah, you forgot to mention that part.

“Drawing. I’m gonna try convincing him to give it a chance.”

The stunned silence tells you she’s likely thinking you’re crazy, her only response a breath of disbelief.

You smile.

“I’m insane, I know.”

“No wonder we’re best friends.”

Staring daggers at the papers in front of you, you prop your feet on the desk, sorting through option after option on what you plan next for class.

In the midst of learning more about each boy’s papers though, you overhear something, a few key words.

Friday. Fair.

Aha. 

The school’s annual summer fair, held as a congratulatory sort of event to celebrate moving onto a new year of school.

It’s decided. Friday, you’re taking them to the fair.

Mentally thanking whoever had brought it up outside the classroom, you’re quick in crumpling the additional papers, watching as one by one, the boys enter.

Hey, at least none of them are late.

…Not like they had a choice in that anyway.

And, through a rather painfully awkward second time teaching, the ice seems to be breaking little by little.

Any progress is good progress, you’ve deemed.

“Alright, before you’re dismissed, I wanna let you know we’re going to the fair Friday. Be there.” You hum, tapping the podium.

You swear there hasn’t been a more stifling pause in your life.

Though you’d been anticipating something adverse, this is a downright oddity.

“Uh.. what?” Han speaks up as you near the door. Morbidly quiet.

“All of you, meet me at the grounds at 7pm.”

Added into the deplorable silence, you glance over your shoulder whilst stepping into the hallway, face donning a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. “Okay, class dismissed.”

Beginning out the sliding door, the eruption of voices behind you cascade into a multitude of conversation, your clarification they had in fact heard and you weren’t discussing plans with a brick wall.

All you can do is hope they show up.

Class continues through the week, trying to get them to grow more comfortable with the atmosphere—their classmates, more specifically.

Of course, you earn your fair share of close calls and near incidents in those four days leading to Friday, but seeing the whole group turn up that fateful evening seems to make the ordeal worthwhile.

Quick to move your separate ways, you’re hasty in tagging along with Hyunjin, the boy unusually quiet as you fall into step to his right.

“So.. you draw?” You start, scorning the nervousness evident in your tone.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t interject, nor bite back something as his infograph had led you to believe.

“Yeah,” He sharply replies, eyes trained ahead, taking swift, motivated steps through heavily trodden grass.

It confuses you, in all honesty. Everything about this so-called ‘superiority complex’. From these few days you’ve seen him or interacted (though fleeting), not once has the man exhibited any form of arrogance nor shed of his assumed traits.

He’s shy, actually. Maybe you’re simply gracing surface level like Chaeryoung advised, but certain aspects could be seen in the black of night.

“Y’know, you’re pretty good.”

Despite his lack of response, you can feel his eyes dance to your face for a split second. 

“‘Think you should try it. You’ve got potential, just saying,” You shrug, merely talking without reason nor inhibition.

“You think?”

It’s his voice breaking through your barrier of unrequited cordiality that stirs the air. A final, conversational pair of words after watching him play countless fairground games in quietness.

“I do,” You hum, nodding avidly while watching Hyunjin’s eyes flicker down to the ground below before back to yours, holding eye-contact.

In those moments, you decipher two things.

Hyunjin rivals the prettiest of paintings, and whatever earlier assumptions had been stuck to his tanned skin couldn’t be more wrong. 

“Yo! If you’re just gonna stand there, move it!”

Changbin’s interjection successfully scares the living soul out of you and simultaneously wrecks your intense staring session.

Nevertheless, it’s hard even for you to explain how you ended up competing against the boisterous boy in ball toss, only that you find yourself wanting to tattoo the sight of Hyunjin laughing and Changbin shouting with defeat beneath your eyelids forever.

Granted a gift upon winning, you snag a snorlax plush amongst the scattered options hanging at the top of the booth, presenting it to the him with a smile.

“Huh?” Changbin grunts, head tilted, gazing at you as if you’ve spawned two heads.

“Take it, ‘s for you,” You urge, surveying the boy’s tentative touch against the plush’s soft fur with evident glee.

Still pouty, yes, but you take the sight of the stuffie held in his arms while the three of you walk back as a victory. 

After a quick stop by a corn dog stand, you lean against the food truck’s side, wordless as Changbin and Hyunjin head off their own ways — the only trace of familiarity near you being someone clearing their throat.

Off to the side stands Chan, quietly sparing you not-so-sneaky glances, his hands stuffed in his black jogger’s pockets. 

You cock your brows, head tipped as if silently asking: “What?”

“Waiting for you,” Is his reply, and it catches you off guard at the consideration in those syllables. 

Not that you envisioned Chan as someone cold, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to wait for you while you ate.

Granting the boy a tiny smile of gratitude, you find yourself unconsciously gravitating his way, stuck in an orbital pattern of continuous voyage, indifferent to moving away.

“Chris is an interesting name,” You offer, aimlessly walking past endless booths, people.

“From Australia,” He speaks. Short and straight to the point, yet lacking any hostility. 

“Yeah? Why’d you move?” 

Ushering him on carefully, you manage to tiptoe a bit into foreign territory, navigating rows of traps and ambushes ahead.

“There’s nothing for me back there apart from my family.” His shoes, caked in mud, shuffle to a halt, gaze trained upward toward the constantly reeling Ferris Wheel.

Almost instantly, you can sense a shift in demeanor. It nearly makes your hair stand up on end, specifically upon seeing the hint of vulnerability shed across his face.

Maybe you’re seeing things.

“I’m just.. here. Like I work so hard for a something I’ll never have.”

His nose scrunches, beautifully glossy brown irises reflecting the blinking lights. Red, blue, green, yellow, all encompassed in those eyes.

No, this is all real.

The sight steels you a bit.

After a moment, you nudge his shoulder, his head finally turning to look at you. 

“I don’t think I’m really the greatest to talk to when it comes to this but, Chan, you have to live without a purpose.”

You inhale deeply.

“Because if you keep trying to find a reason for everything-“

The shouting of an oh-so skillful interruption known as Changbin calling your name in the distance temporarily cuts you off.

“You’ll never be satisfied with a reality that won’t change unless you do, with this life.” 

For Chan, no place like home only applied when he had a place to call home. As for now, he was a wanderer. 

That, or inches from deluding himself into a comfortable, insufficient reality instead.

Making believe until something becomes real.

“Do you think it’ll be okay?”

His words catch you off guard, and you sort of stare for a moment, holding his gaze as if looking away means your demise.

For a second, you wonder if every boy’s eyes are this captivating.

Hyunjin, now Chan.

“I do,” You whisper, voice hardly audible amidst the bustling fairground.

His lips quirking into a smile serve as your indication he heard, and he reaches a hand up to gently sweep a strand of hair from your face behind your ear.

Again, unexpected, not disliked.

“Live on, yeah?” Chan hums, lifting his pinky for you to take with a mirrored grin, emotion buried within his dark chocolate pools for eyes you fear to unearth.

Maybe that’s something irrevocably agreed upon.

Live on.

It seems so, even when you regroup with an avidly boastful Changbin barking over who won at a rifle booth against him and Han. Agreed in the pinkies still intertwined behind your backs, in the shared smiles he gives you here and there as the night continues.

“Say, what is it with the both of you?”

Sidled between Han and Hyunjin on the walk back to campus, you find the question slipping from your lips before thinking.

Hyunjin grunts, and Han shrugs.

Children, you swear.

“Constantly biting at each other’s throats, yeah?” You huff, arms crossing.

Glancing over at Hyunjin after neither boy decides to respond, you raise a brow.

“As your teacher, I’m gonna assign something,” You begin, glaring at the tiny scoff Han resounds when you try using an authoritative tone.

“Next time you see each other, try to be nice.”

Another silence.

“I’m dead serious.”

“Y/N-“ Han starts, quickly silenced by your lifted hand.

“No buts. Do it, got it?” Firmly commanding, you leave no room for argument, the two responding as if it were the worst of punishments, wallowing in self pity.

Despite an onslaught of beginnings and continuations to newly opened books, you think the chapter where Hyunjin and Han sulk all the way back to campus takes the cake.

For now it does.

“I want someone to play me,” Han says, bringing the popsicle up to his lips. 

The sun beats onto their skin, warm rays causing a scrunch to appear between his brows.

In an attempt at following your “get-along” suggestion, the two found themselves coincidentally running into each other at the nearby Supermarket after school, sparing cautious glances back and forth till someone broke the silence.

Like fate, drawn together in the ugliest of ways.

Han went first, a hesitant “hey” somehow leading to the two hunkering down on bamboo flooring with a conversation in tow. 

It’s a start.

“Play you?” Hyunjin parrots, confused.

“Yeah,” He responds, fiddling with the name tag attached to his uniform. “They say nobody knows you better than yourself, but I dunno.. I feel like I don’t know anything about me. I’m an alien to myself.” 

Jisung bunches up the wrapper, the crinkling sound rivaling screeching cicadas clinging to the trees overhead.

“I bet if I had an actor play me, I’d make a lot more sense.”

Somehow, out of all the things Han Jisung has said to him, this is the one thing Hyunjin can fully understand. 

Understand that, despite living with yourself all your life, you’re still a novice even in your own body, in need of someone to tell you about yourself, an opposing point of view to help round out the sharp corners.

That’s it. The word to describe it, how Hyunjin found himself bound to art.

Your words replay in his mind on loop.

“Think you should try it. You’ve got potential.”

Understanding.

Art, in its most frustrating, brutally painful form, allows Hyunjin to understand. Himself, his wishes, life, despair. It’s his actor. An ideal perspective responsible for clearing his conscious, a contact lense to the eyes he hadn’t realized were blurry, half-open.

“What did you write on that paper about yourself?” Hyunjin ventured, beaming sunlight cast upon long fingers that peer from the balcony’s shade, highlighting cool toned veins in an almost transparent ray.

Coins cash into the vending machine, the dull cry of birds soaring to the sky in a flurry of wings echoing in his eardrums.

“The one Y/N handed out?”

Hyunjin hums.

“My name.”

The latter’s lips quirk into a clumsy smile. 

Han Jisung, that’s all he wrote. How original of him.

Hyunjin watches an ant crawl atop a leaf, simultaneously swiping a droplet of water from the popsicle’s wrapper with his thumb. 

He tests his words.

“I want,”

A pause. 

“To add art now. To the paper, as my friend.”

Jisung purses his lips curiously, brows lifted.

However, he doesn’t pester.

“Art is your friend?”

Meeting the other boys gaze, Hyunjin finds himself, for the first time when looking at Han Jisung, smiling.

“Yeah, it is.”

. . .

“Heh. What a weirdo— YAH!”

Next Wednesday’s evening consists of a plethora of instances, some more notable to mention than others.

One, getting slammed to a wall by Changbin, and two, getting screamed at right after.

Though you weren’t aware of that yet, not when you looked up from your phone after school to see the boy storming toward you, and certainly not when you smiled, an action seeming to have provoked his hand to your collar, cornered against a wall without so much as a greeting.

“Changbin..?” You manage, slightly breathless at the impact, brows furrowed.

And instantly, listening to the words he spews, it feels as if all the progress you’d made at class—nevertheless the fair—dissolved into nothing.

Back to square one.

“Who do you think you are?” He spits, looking you up and down with a wrinkled nose. “What? You think you own the world ‘cause you’re doing something good? Helping ‘troubled’ kids?” 

Before you can interject, his grip tightens on your shirt, shaking you angrily before stopping again, darks eyes burning with nothing but rage.

“We aren’t your confidence boost, Teach, so get out of your stupid headspace. We don’t need your help and never asked for it in the first place, so get lost.”

Changbin dips dangerously close to your face, venom dripping in his tone.

“Got it?”

Using as much force as you can muster, you ram your palm against his chest, effectively pushing him off of you before slamming against his shoulder and walking away.

Halfway down the street do you stop, not daring to look back at him.

“I don’t know what makes you think I’m doing this for a confidence boost, and I’m not going to try understanding. But that gives you no right to pick me apart like you know me!” You shout, continuing to head as far as you can from him, glaring ahead.

It’s fair he got that idea. Some random student infiltrating your summer all for the sake of what? Their future? Yours? What was this for anyway? Your position as Class President using this “summer school” to make you feel better about yourself, add more to a resume? 

Plopping down at a bus stop a mile or so later, you pull your legs to your chest, rehearsing just what drove you into the mess anyway. 

You want to help them. That’s it. 

Repeating the phrase like a sacred oath, it isn’t until the burning sun’s waning scorch that you’re reminded of evening’s approach, begrudgingly lifting yourself off the now-sweaty seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan stood as a witness, watching either of you quarrel prior to parting, you disappearing elsewhere while Changbin remained in place, burning holes into the ground with a furious glower.

Hurriedly assessing what his first move should be (or if he should even move at all), he decides upon following you when the dark-haired boy stalks off.

“Y/n!” 

The oddly familiar voice graces your senses when you look up, pausing just outside the bus stop, earbuds dangling from your pocket. 

It’s Chan, still wearing his school uniform. 

“Oh, hey Chan.” Slapping a hopefully convincing smile on, you allow him to occupy the space to your left as you head home, entertaining his occasional questions, sentences.

You’re glad it’s Chan though. 

“Um, Chan?” You pique upon reaching your door, looking back at him, question inches from slipping off your tongue.

Has anything happened with Changbin lately?

“Yes?”

No, you can’t. 

“Never mind, um, bye!” Brushing off the thought, you give him another tight smile, waving the boy off and slipping into your home with a loud sigh.

Outside, Chan tugs his lip between his teeth, watching you debate on your words. He knows what you wanted to ask, what so obviously sat heavy on your shoulders the entire way home. 

Perhaps it’s his perception that’s gotten him this far. 

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he decides the next course of action would be locating the other half of this division. 

Unfortunately for him, Chan has no idea where he could be. The likelihood he’s home is minuscule if his hunch is right, and so, the man wracks his head for any clues.

Abruptly, a past conversation hits him.

“Have you been there? The old train station below the tunnel?”

Chan, lips pursed as he tries recalling, shakes his head.

“I like that place, ‘helps me think.”

That’s it.

Racing off despite the darkness creeping across star-splattered sky, his legs carry him as fast as possible. 

Dipping below the bridge, his skin prickles at the cold air. Minimal lighting apart from a few white beams paves a clear path to his desired individual, planted in the dead center of the platform.

“Binnie,” Chan calls. 

Only he can get away with calling Changbin “Binnie”, a nickname grown into second nature as the two grew more accustomed these past two weeks.

The boy doesn’t budge, doesn’t reply. He stands there, chin down, hands firmly bunching his pants in a tight hold.

Yet, when he looks up after a lengthy pause, Chan watches his lip quiver, watches his shoulders shake senselessly as he gradually reaches his outstretched arms.

“I.. I keep hurting so many people and.. and…it’s so lonely, why is it so lonely?” 

Without an utterance, he pushes Changbin’s head against his shoulder. 

And they hug. They hug for a long, long time. Basking there, healing there. 

Changbin cries. 

There’s a lot to cry about, a lot of things he’s needed to cry about, things he couldn’t cry about before. But he does. Tonight, in this empty train station, Changbin cries in Chan’s arms, his friends arms.

Changbin’s first friend—who smoothes messy curls down in delicate strokes, holding him dearly close. 

Chan isn’t oblivious, because in those particularly tender moments, one in specific taking place right after the fair, Changbin speaks words Chan had never heard before. 

Problems. They told each other it all. Their secrets, struggles. 

Changbin’s issues with his parents, Chan’s with his home-situation, his internal displacement.

“I know things are hard right now, but we’re going to get someplace better together, okay? We’re brothers.” Chan whispers, and his friend sniffles, nodding wordlessly.

Brothers. 

Changbin is his brother now, and no blood needs to prove that. Because in times you don’t have that family, that connection, you make it yourself.

Seungmin: Y/n, can you meet me at Gokseong Hill?

You groan picking up your phone, granted a mere thirty minutes of peace after your painful run-in with Changbin and an equally painful attempt at a conversation with Chan before your phone lights up.

Y/n: Do you plan to murder me or something?

Seungmin: I’m not as creative as Jisung, so no

You crack a smile.

Y/n: I’ll be there

Fastening a jacket over your shoulders, you lock the door behind yourself, stuffing jingling keys into your pocket.

Hey, a bit of fresh air sounds tempting.

At the peak of the hill he sits, and it’s not until you follow his upward stare that you take in the stars overhead. 

The slight altitude paves way to a more than incredible view. Countless galaxies right above your head, twinkling so brightly in the sky. Far from streetlights, from civilization. 

Your staggered breathing hiking up here proves worthwhile now.

Wordlessly plopping down beside him, you lay back, admiring.

“Do you ever wanna scream?” Seungmin reaches his hand to the sky, allowing the dark blue and black hues to waltz in his grasp.

The twinkling wonder dappled above prohibit a full view of his facial expressions, but you have an idea of how wistfully he gazes into that atmospheric abyss. Aching.

You humorlessly chuckle.

Do I ever.

“When I first met Changbin, I wanted to scream every twenty seconds.”

Seungmin laughs. Pretty.

“Guys like that do that to you.”

He curls his fingers into a fist, arm remaining outstretched. 

“Do it.”

“Hm?”

“Scream.”

He looks at you like you’re insane for a moment, then pauses, fingernails digging into the earthy soul beneath you before he screams.

Screams, louder and louder, so loud you’re surprised his lungs haven’t given up yet, surprised you haven’t laughed at how comical the entire thing is. His body practically lifts off the ground, eyes screwed shut.

Then he stops, catching his breath. 

No comments nor laughter. Quiet. 

Reaching out, you give his hand, dirty fingernails and all, an assuring squeeze.

I don’t know, but I care.

A silent utterance.

“Better?”

He nods. 

You’re next, and this time, you’re first to laugh.

As the two week mark of class is pinned, you want to give yourself a pat on the back for managing - no less surviving till now.

So, it really makes you wonder how you ended up in such a predicament.

Han Jisung, someone you never anticipated to be beside you on your Saturday, resides in the drivers seat of your parent’s car, hands sweating up nothing short of an ocean without even starting the vehicle.

Well, you are aware of how this all began, but then again, your pride wants to be salvaged, if barely.

A bit of pleading on Han’s side about his parents nagging him and a pinch of your groggy mumbling at 9am to end up here, to be exact.

“Look… About what I said the first day.. I’m really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have asked that, it was rude and- ow!”

A hard flick delivered to the boy’s forehead has his face wrinkling up, an offended expression worn on chubby cheeks.

“Yes, it was rude, and I’ll ostracize you if you ever do it again. But I forgive you, you’re welcome,” You state, arms crossed.

Han’s sheepish nod seems to be the best reply you’ll get. 

“Alright, now, shift the gear to drive.”

“…That’s ‘D’, right…?”

“You’re kidding.”

No, he wasn’t kidding, and a lesson that could’ve been an hour long turns into two and a half hours in no time.

Finally, by some miracle, you end up on the road, holding on the seat like a vice, the boy mirroring your panic with nervous jittering and random comments.

“Oh wait! Isn’t the Film Festival coming up-“

“FOCUS ON THE ROAD!”

Ah, he has the attention span of a squirrel, that too.

And if you aren’t doused in gray hairs after that you’d be surprised, Han looking just as frazzled, exiting the car with wobbly legs and wide, frazzled eyes. 

From then on out, you decide teaching the boy how to drive would have to wait.

With July days away (a miracle, you’d like to say), you bury your nose into new assignments and exercises for the class, desperately gripping onto the bits and pieces of progress you’re making.

It’s meager, and certainly not sturdy, but you’ll take what you can get. 

..Even if those hard silences are crippling.

A knock ushers you away from the barstool you perch on, cautiously peering from your front door’s tiny peephole. 

Felix.

Upon opening in the door, you first notice his raw cheeks, eyes puffy and red.

He’d been crying, unmistakably.

You don’t move away when he walks forward and presses his face against your shoulder.

“Can I stay here? I don’t want to go home tonight.” The boy whispers, and you reach a tentative hand to pat his head. 

“Of course.”

Clambering the teary boy inside, you spend a decent ten minutes helping him catch his breath and calm down a bit, not wanting to stress the poor thing out with questions.

Standing in your foyer, it’s his shaky voice piercing the air responsible for your head snapping up.

“Do you.. have brownie mix?” 

.

.

.

“He was always the fearless kid,” Felix mutters, occupying himself with folding the batter in a bowl. 

Interestingly enough, Felix is a stress baker, something of which you hadn’t realized until getting schooled on the correct ingredients to use for brownies.

The topic is Minho. Or, what Felix knew of him.

“I could never read him. I still can’t. I remember he saved this cat once and it bit him. I cried the whole way to the doctor’s office and he was the one who calmed me down instead.” 

All you can do is laugh in reply, the blond sheepishly grinning.

Licking off some brownie mix, he hands you the other whisk where you lean against the counter. 

Leaning forward to smear some of the sugary goodness on his cheek with a giggle, you adore the way his eyes light up, causing his freckles to almost glow.

If past-lives were real, you think Felix would’ve been a fairy.

“You knew Minho when you were younger?”

Felix nods.

“We met in seventh grade. Our mom’s were friends through work. Although, I don’t think he liked me very much.”

He shakes the bubbles from the cooking sheet, ensuring the edges of the pan were even. You slip past him to pre-heat the oven. 

There’s a soft chuckle on his end, and it’s not until you turn around do you see the pikachu mitten he’s quite literally critiquing with his eyeballs.

Such expressive eyes, though they’re different than Minho and Seungmin. 

While Minho has something like the atlantic ocean hidden deep behind those pupils, Seungmin is more of an open field.

Though Felix, he has stars.

So many stars, in fact, that they couldn’t possibly all fit, spreading to his face instead. Down his arms, his chest. Till all of a sudden the entire galaxy found its home in the boy standing in front of you.

“Hey, no judging,” You grin, scrutinizing his innocent shrug. 

Snatching your precious oven-mit from his fingertips to load the pan in yourself, a gasp stirs when a pair of arms winds around your middle, his chin resting upon your shoulder as you close the door and set your timer.

“Thank you.”

“Hm? What for?” Stopping your movements, you allow the boy to snuggle closer.

“For reminding me of myself. I seem to get lost in other people sometimes and forget I’m here too.” At the last part of his sentence he laughs, rocking back and forth on his heels and causing you to rock with him. 

Ten minutes or so you rock. Easy, comfortable. 

Felix gives nice hugs. His clothes are sprinkled with a strange mixture of both brownies and chocolate chip remnants he’d snuck in without your knowledge.

Comfortable.

He’s a kid who never really got the chance to grow up. The one who was constantly told he’s so mature for his age, a phrase that eventually melded so far into his brain it became second nature, gum stuck to his shoe. 

Because the kid that was so mature for his age was never asked if he needed help or if he was okay, everyone simply assumed. Even when the world came crashing down, Felix was fine. Just fine. 

Until he wasn’t, and suddenly, Felix came crashing down with the world.

“..Do you like face-masks?”

You may not be able to fix his crumbling world, but you could give him some good memories to remember it by.

Which is how you found yourself roped in your bathroom, carefully applying the charcoal face mask onto his perfect skin, unblemished and definitely not deserving of the treatment. But, like you said, memories. 

You should be off to bed, already prepping for the next morning, school. June 17th, officially seventeen days into summer school. Yet here you are, greedily shoving down brownies with a new companion, Lee Felix, on the couch while looking like utter idiots in face masks. 

After seven episodes of Gilmore Girls does he wearily rise up, beckoning you with him to wash off your skincare madness only to make an equally weary trip straight back to the living room.

“Do you think Minho likes me?” Your baking partner whispers, his head resting upon your lap. Those unfairly long lashes begin to dust closed, the subtle flash of light emitted from your scented candle sending a golden gleam across the room.  

“Mm.. I’m sure he does. I’m sure he likes you very much,” You assure, not needing a response from his fallen-asleep form, not expecting one anyway. 

What occurred in the first place nor why he asked such questions wasn’t your business, but somewhere, a part of a you wanted to know. The cause of his pain, of all of their pain. 

Hardest part of your evening was definitely attempting to slip him off your lap, luckily a success after four or five minutes. 

Carefully propping a pillow behind his head and layering a blanket across his jacket-clad body, you sneakily turn off the TV, bidding the exhausted boy a hushed “good night” and placing a gentle peck to his forehead before turning off the porch light.

Laying in bed whilst your eyes resist closing, you find yourself hoping he’ll sleep well, hope this night is something he can look back on with a smile on his face.

Felix deserves that.

That morning, upon forgetting your alarm, either of you are scrambling from bed or, in Felix’s case, flopping from your couch with a loud thud!

“Minho lives pretty close,” Felix winds the straps of his backpack over his shoulders, glancing from side to side while observing the area. You follow suit, both clambering to rush out the door, jogging down the street hurriedly.

Seems the Minho kick is still here then, huh.

“But he might not be at school off and on because of his Grandma.”

The awaiting tip of your head calls for an explanation, and a light bulb seemed to bloom above him — obviously having realized something.

Either of you pause at a crosswalk.

“Didn’t I tell you?”

You shake your head, brows pinched. 

Felix pokes his tongue into his cheek.

“Well, Minho’s mom died a bit back. He takes care of his Grandma now. After she passed he got really distant and we…” His tone dissolves, and you don’t interrupt, allowing the boy to speak his mind. “Haven’t talked since.”

Apparently, there’s a corner to this billion-piece jigsaw.

One, horrifically fateful paper lay taped down onto one desk far too many boys are trying to look at.

Levanter High Film Festival. Participants will make a 25 minute short film with cinematography and soundtrack themes made entirely by themselves.

“..And you want us to do this?” Jeongin mutters, skeptically scratching the bottom of his chin. 

“Yep! We are!” You proudly announce, given quite a few confused glances in return.  

As Jisung had taken the time to so kindly mention while nearly crashing the car, July, the month in which you’ve somehow made it to with this group, means the arrival of creative festivals — or, the school boards way of enhancing student participation.

“Uh.. I’ve gotta DAW at home..?” Chan speaks up, brows furrowed thoughtfully.

“…A dawg?” Han snorts, Felix smacking his back in an attempt to quell his own laughter.

“A music birth giving machine,” Changbin offers.

“Ew, weird way to put it.”

“Shut it, Jisung.”

“Alright. Now, we’re gonna break off into departments, okay? We need director, maybe script writers? An idea of where we’re gonna film, song producers, and someone with a camera.” Murmuring with your lip tugging between your teeth, you tap your foot, the group cumulating into frenzied discourse, seemingly arranging themselves. 

And, almost as fast as you blink, you’re pleasantly surprised to find no blood had been shed over positions.

Accordingly — with obvious inclusion in every position at some point — Chan, Changbin, and Han are working music, Seungmin is working on the script, Jeongin and Hyunjin are doubling as directors and camera-providing members, and Felix and Minho have been elected as the main characters. 

You can’t help but find it rather interesting considering your prior knowledge of the situation. Their situation.

Felix’s longing, Minho’s loss.

The imperfect, perfect pair.

“What’s the name gonna be?” Jeongin piques, the eight of you squinting at his frame leant against the windowsill.

The boy hesitates. 

“Like, our label?”

Equally confused stares. 

In honorary mention of the esteemed ‘Film Festival’ introduced this summer, you decided, along with Han’s incredibly distracting tendencies, that you guys would be participating.

Then again, everyone is still getting used to being within six feet of each other, so being stuck in the old photography club room on a school night remains effortlessly uncomfortable.

And with the slow eye contact each of you exchange, a gradual cacophony of “Ohhh”’s. 

“How about Boy’s Generation!” Jisung jumps in, earning a smack across the head from Hyunjin followed by loud whining whilst burying his head in Minho’s chest (of whom looks unbearably awkward) who tries to console.

Emphasis on the “tries” part.

“Maybe.. Lost Men?” Changbin suggests, quiet hums of agreement sounding from the remainder. 

You choke back a laugh, which, doesn’t turn out to be as choked as you’d prefer by the glare you get in response.

“Lost Men? Are we sailors?” Stammering down your giggles the best you could manage, Seungmin clears his throat, attention quickly directing his way.

Seungmin has a habit, if that’s what you want to call it. He’s never outspoken, no, but he speaks, a lot. Minho is the same in that sense. Whether quiet mumbling or the illustrious expressions he makes, you’re confident the both of them could maintain a perfectly understandable conversation using just their eyes. 

Sort of scary. 

“Stray Kids?”

Five seconds later and Felix grumbles, interrupting everyone’s inner contemplation.

“Kind of fitting if you think about it.”

Minho grunts, voicing a question that extinguished the conversation beforehand. 

“Well what happens when we aren’t astray anymore?”

And, although the foreboding tension sat heavy in the air, it was easy to tell he held no weight to his words.

Because regardless of what kind of conclusion they reached at some point, it was irrevocably known they’d always be stray. Searching, looking for something they weren’t sure existed.

No reply came. No one complained. 

Chan typed up the label in the lower left corner of the doc, the laptop he’d taken from his bag propped on his lap.

You gave Minho a half-smile he sheepishly returned.

The more you thought about it, the more it matched. Not only searching, but paving. One way or another, the assumed nobodies were growing, developing into something unforgettable, if only to a few people. 

You had no doubt more would remember their names in the future, but as for now, you stay as Chan, Minho, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Y/n, lodged in the school’s vacant club room, arranging ideas for the Film Festival. 

Stray Kids. 

You liked it. 

The quiet rolling of his bike gears sits between you, familiarly nostalgic chirping of crickets heightening the darker the sky becomes, dusk plowing a runway through orange clouds.

Headed back from school, you happened to run into Minho, jogging to catch up with him in the midst of his departure.

“I like my life.”

Mid-chew on a sour gummy worm, you cease your gluttonous rampage in order to catch Minho’s hushed breath.

“Being alive is nice.”

And when he says that, he turns his head toward you, expression piquing a “don’t you think so?” type of question you struggle to answer.

Zoning in on the repetitive motion of his wheel, you wrack your brain. 

“Yeah? It’s hard, but I would say it’s worth it.”

His brows raise, a barely visible, lopsided smile winding itself around his lips — chapped but still such a captivating pink hue.

All he has to do is hum, doing that habitual blinking thing he always does to know he agrees.

Minho is the small things, you configure.

He’s fixing the bulletin when a paper fell off and picking up Changbin’s Snorlax plushie when he almost forgets it. He’s reminding you to text him when you get home “just because”. He’s the little things nobodies notices, little things that show he cares. 

Lee Minho is the small things, but he’s also so much too — so many stories, people, places. He’s heartbroken but he tries, pained but still swimming in a whirlpool of an ocean that flushes him from its tides.

Perhaps somebody could be his buoy, somebody who’d keep him afloat.

You have a hunch as to who that person might be.

Bike squealing to a stop, you clamber to catch pace, backing up a bit to notice what Minho points at. 

A field.

“This would be a good place to film if it weren’t off limits.” He observes, either of you acknowledging the “No Trespassing” sign latched loosely onto a chain link fence. 

Biting your lip, a small smirk finds itself upon your face. 

“It’s not off limits if we can get in, right?” 

Minho gives you an uncertain stare, quickly tampering into downright exasperation.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a good influence?”

You laugh at this, laying your bike down to hitch each hand into diamond-shaped openings and climb, sending your suspicious audience an expectant look.

“I’m meant to be a good learning experience, think of this as part of a the process. Now c’mon, climb. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Half-heartedly, you’re joined in your risky pursuit, scaling up to the top before thumping down on the other side. 

Minho, on the other hand, is a tad bit more skeptical, remaining at the fence’s peak, glaring down nervously.

Although, with lots of patience and encouragement, the anxious boy takes a leap of faith onto uncut grasses and stalking weeds. 

Halfway into your adventure do clouds begin festering, setting the atmosphere in a gray haze the longer you brainstorm filming spots, whether that’s pointing out certain locations or deciding on specific scene placement.

“We could have Felix here, then I run in and find him?” 

“Okay— what if we make it like a huge confrontation. You run in, confront him-“

Jutting of metal against another surface redirects your mid-sentence focus, gaze averting toward the sound. 

Shit. Security.

“Hey you! What do you think you’re doing!?” 

Momentary silence and either of you go bolting as fast as your legs will go.

“Quick!” You shriek, the sky dotted in strikes of lightning, alighting into a sudden electrified cauldron of clouds and rain.

Minho is right on your heels, jackets strung over your heads in a feeble attempt to divert some watery droplets from their rapid descent.

Not only the useless fear of getting soaked, but the lingering outline of an approaching flashlight in the distance and the thumping of footsteps from behind urge you onward, scaling the looming fence using slippery fingers and wild adrenaline.

Except, just as you edge over the top of the fence does your shirt get caught in the twisted wire, effectively preventing your movement (much to your panic) while Minho shouts below. 

Luckily, in the nick of time do you manage to free yourself, having to lurch forward and simultaneously earn a stinging cut before racing to your bikes and speeding off.

Learning experience was certainly a word for it. 

“So..” You start, lingering by Chan’s doorway. 

According to a fretful, rain drenched Minho speaking to your equally drenched self, his place was the closest.

“What’s our excuse?” You mumble, Minho scoffing before shrugging off his jacket to hand to you, earning a curious tip of your head.

Wordlessly does he point to your now dampened white shirt, and you can’t help but smile at the realization.

Hm. What a gentleman.

Easing the fabric over your soaked shirt, you just finish buttoning to the bottom when Chan opens the door, cocking a brow.

“Who knew it actually rained cats and dogs?”

“You’re not funny.”

Stepping inside, you’re greeted with the chilling temperature, skin erupting into goosebumps as either of you awkwardly stand in the doorway, Chan disappearing into the other room only to return with two t-shirts.

“Bathrooms are on either side of the hall, you’ll find them,” He hums, and you give him a grateful smile before padding off to change, the sound of your squeaking steps making you cringe.

Chan’s old swim-team tee hangs loosely from your body upon stepping out, plopping down onto his couch with an exaggerated groan.

Behind you, Minho sits on an unoccupied chair, taking sips of water here and there.

“So…” The eldest of the group steps in the room, hesitant. “Care to tell me how-“

“No.” Minho bluntly speaks, and you cock a bemused brow at his forwardness.

“Got it,” Chan nods quickly, eyes zeroing in on you for a moment, honing a stare you can’t discern.

“Y/N?” He quietly asks where you lift from your spot.

“Wanna come with me for a minute?” He hums, and you curiously follow him into the kitchen, plopping on the counter he motions for you to sit on.

“Lift up your shirt,” He softly instructs, and you do a double take to make sure you heard him right. 

“Huh?”

Nonplussed, he repeats himself, appearing completely unaffected despite such a request.

So slowly, nervously, you lift your shirt as he nonchalantly maneuvers antiseptic from a medical container, your brain registering the predicament as he dabs right below your chest, bottom lip held in his teeth while he works.

Your scratch from earlier on the fence.

Leave it to him to be the ever perceptive one.

Chan doesn’t budge, shy away, nor show any reaction to the newfound vulnerability. Your heart warms a bit at the sight. 

He cares, and you’ve known that, but it’s just, it’s sweet. Really, truly sweet.

Immediately upon applying the antiseptic, you wince, your grip (which you noticed) on his arm tightening while he calmly hushed you, carefully placing a bandaid on top of the wound. 

“If you don’t dress it properly you could get an infection.” Chan explains. “Tell me next time, okay?” 

You nod as he rearranged his materials below the cabinet and ensured you’ve hopped off the countertop.

“Lix told me you used to be a restaurant’s chef in Hongdae, eh?”

At this, he looked up in surprise, chuckling lowly, lips situating themselves into a sheepish straight line.

“Lix?” He echoes, and you tilt your head, evidently confused as to what he’s asking.

“Mm nothin’, just not many people can call him Lix,” He explains, padding into the living room.

“Really? Am I just the lucky one?” Snickering to yourself, the man nudges your side with his own squeaky laugh as you enter into the living room.

“That’s.. a word for it.”

It’s hard to recall when the gears really began turning. Breaking from rusty shackles to rotate seamlessly.

Chan opening up and giving you a glimpse of the heartthrob of a personality beneath his once cold facade. Han and Hyunjin able to have a normal conversation, talking to Jeongin more and more about anything and everything.

Maybe it’s the familiarity, the routine that naturally mends. Like a new fridge you hadn’t realized you were so accustomed to until gone, until you look back at what was.

A part of you wants to give yourself a pat on the back as if you were the person responsible for this summer school’s progress. Though, you’re sure just about four hundred other things also left an imprint. 

Late nights spent in the old club room. Arranging meetups for filming spots. Headaches from the sound of a power drill where props are put together. Endless repeats of the same scene everyone keeps messing up.

And all of a sudden, it hurts. Because this is one of those moments. Fleeting. Fleeting in the sense that—as you watch Chan and Seungmin burst out laughing when Changbin fails a prop test—never again in this entire world will there ever be another night like this. 

Felix won’t accidentally spill his drink. Minho won’t throw a childish fit after he gets his twenty-fifth take wrong. 

There won’t ever be another summer like this. A summer in your senior year of high school you really don’t want to forget right now, not if it costs it all to stay engrained in your mind.

“Alright. So..” Chan begins, the nine of you clambering to get a glance of his screen as he finishes the final touches.

“We’re finally done!”

It takes a whopping three weeks to finish filming and editing, the clamorous chorus of relief sounding in unison as your group’s unofficial (though wordlessly voted) leader, Chan, taps the save button one last time.

Your film covers the tale of two. Fated, yet, unable to ever meet. A constant tug of war of souls infinitely bound.

One steps north, the other makes five steps south. Pulled together like magnets even when worlds apart in all aspects, even when it seems they’re only given more reasons to avoid each other.

..Yes, you certainly thought of what Felix told you that bit ago.

No, you have been thinking about it.

When they filmed; those certain scenes where you’d watch them make eye contact. Oh to listen to the thoughts behind those eyes.

So leaden with emotion. 

Longing.

A longing for what was, for what could’ve been.

To watch two people like that makes your ears ring. So much said in the hurried lines, the occasional eye-contact. 

Listen, listen. You’ll miss it if you blink.

How gut-wrenching to be a witness to such tragedy you never were involved in. Perhaps that’s human empathy.

You inhale and exhale, but don’t count for how long. Watching the film on the that old projector sheet makes you wish you narrowed things down to the tee, scribbled them down in a notebook to recall for eternity.

Too fast, too fast. You’ll miss it if you breathe.

No, stay forever. 

If only. 

And perhaps that’s the best part.

Stray Kids places fourth place in the festival, and to be honest, you might as well have taken home first.

It sure felt like it.

Smiles and laughter. Congratulations and many thank you’s amidst a densely packed theatre room. 

Though, something is missing. No, someone is missing. Because in the midst of a celebration intended for everyone, it suddenly comes to your attention a presence has gone awry.

Meeting Chan’s eyes, it appears he just realized as well.

Han.

.

.

.

“Jisung where the hell were yo—“ 

Having stormed through the oddly unlocked door like a madman, Chan stops, noticing how positively bruised the boy is, sharp cut veering across his nose, lip busted and bloody.

Hurriedly forcing his face between either of Chan’s hands, Han winces. 

“Tell me everything.” The older of the two demands, eyes racing. 

Quick to pull away, his mouth pulls taut. It’s quiet before Han kicks the cabinet, voice watery, breaking. 

“Fuck!” He clutches his head, biting back the prospect of crying. 

Dropping down to bury his head in his knees, he stifles a shaky exhale.

“..These guys from Class 3-B broke my bike, that’s why I couldn’t go.” 

Ah.

There’s a stillness.

Then, quietly, Chan shuffles down beside Jisung, mirroring the way his knees sit close to his chest, back flush against the wooden cabinets below the sink.

“I just.. wish I was stronger,” Jisung hardly manages, words barely audible through a trembling bottom lip.

Sparing moments of silence, Chan’s jaw tightens, attention directed onto the tile floor.

“I’m quitting the football team.”

Jisung’s head snaps to the adjacent boy. 

“But why? Football’s your forte. Plus, you kick ass every time your name gets called out onto the field.”

Chan ruffles the boys hair, giving him a tight smile.

“I have.. other priorities right now.” His voice shrinks, hand resting atop Jisung’s head, staring into those bottomless brown eyes. 

He’s grateful no other questions were asked.

“Say,” He begins, his counterpart experimentally prodding his swollen eye, cringing back with a hiss. 

“I can help you get stronger.”

Slowly, the younger’s head turns, brows raised as if asking: “really?”, to which Chan nods, a faint grin tugging at his lips. 

‘Reach for me’, and Chan reaches. 

Jisung oftentimes thought the boy foolish to trust so blindly, to pour so much into someone who could easily let you down.

Yet, seeing the fist his friend held out, he returns the fist bump with a feeble grin, head slumping onto the older boy’s shoulder.

This time, an exception has been made.

There were many weird circumstances in Minho’s life, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated this one.

“..What are you doing?” Minho inquires flatly, slowing his bike down whilst Han, dripping in sweat, jogs past, avidly motivated for a reason the bystander can’t quite understand on a Tuesday morning.

He planned to bike into town and buy extra soil for his grandmother’s garden, now finding himself unable to ignore this strange appearance.

“Conditioning! New year new me!”

Minho sends the boy a mildly disgusted, mildly annoyed expression in reply.

“It’s June.” 

“Leave me be.”

His sarcastic brow returned with Han’s entertained giggle, the older boy finding it irritably hard to resist an approaching smile, pedaling to catch up to him.

How burdensome, Minho thinks.

“Is this about the Film Festival?” 

Gliding past, Han’s eyes widen into saucers.

“Please don’t tell me Y/n’s mad I couldn’t show up, I’m scared she’ll beat me up or something on Monday.”

He grins at the sheepish plea.

“She’s not, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you?”

Minho shrugs. “Why not?”

“Fair,” Han deflates, stopping to catch his breath, balancing his hands on his knees. 

The other boy, observing his exhaustion as he pushes on his brakes, grants him a side-eye, patting the back of his bike.

“Want a ride?”

Han, looking up with sweat wrecking his hair to stick up in wild directions, gradually nods, uttering a quiet “Feels like I’m cheating” as he climbs behind Minho, legs dangling off the side. 

The ride is peaceful, rice fields flourishing, fields dappled with flowers of all sorts of hues on the way to town, breeze cooling down Han’s heated face, whipping his linen shirt in each gust.

Neither talk, simply enjoying the weather, the smells, the sounds.   

Though, the enjoyment is quelled as soon as it began, Minho lugging a bag of soil atop where the younger boy had sat on the back of his bike—said boy lingering outside the gardening shop.

Door bells clanging overhead when he exits, Han gives him a questioning look as he works on tying the soil down.

“..Where am I gonna sit?” He questions aloud, and the devilish boy can’t help but wear an evil smile.

“You’re not,” He says matter-of-a-fact, swinging a leg over the seat, watching despair cross his friend’s face. 

“New year new you, right? Good luck!”

Quickly racing off on his bike, Minho laughs at Han’s shouting while he disappears in the distance, knowing full well the silent-treatment he’ll receive later at school.

Oh the throes (and woes) of summer.

Meanwhile, you’re helping Chan hang laundry in his backyard, having reviewed more of an album him, Han, and Changbin have been working on after the festival. 

The longer you listen, the more you find Chan has a knack for curating incredible music, enough that you find yourself leaning infinitely close to the old monitor of his, craning into each note the speaker procures.

“So I was thinking,” Chan clicks his tongue, hanging a t-shirt to the close pins. “What if we had a unit name? Han, Binnie and I?”

Processing his question in your mind, you purse your lips, wiping beading moisture from your forehead.

“What’d you have in mind?” You pique, giving the boy a sidelong glance, mischief evident on your face. 

Mirroring your grin, he steps down from the stool, giving you a hand as you step from yours.

“3RACHA? Cause like.. we’re three and we’re hot like Sriracha?”

Instantly, you both burst out into giggles, smacking his shoulder at the sly phrasing. 

“No no I’m kidding—“

“I like it!” You loudly interject, bringing the water bottle up to your lips.

Chan’s eyes bulge out of his skull, tilt in his head, a hint of surprise etched on sun kissed skin.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I like it! 3RACHA fits,” Elaborating with exaggerated hand gestures, the spectator has to bite back his smile, dimples nudging at his cheeks.

“I’ll let them know,” He raises his brows, giving you a small high five before officially collapsing on the grass, you following suit.

By the time your eyes open again, you can’t even recall what happened in the first place, trying to figure out why the sky is already pitch black, not to mention why you’re still lying in the grass. 

Leave it to falling asleep to waste your day away.

Leaning over where you stretch your arms, Chan grins, extending a hand to help you up that you gratefully accept—granted an explanation as to how you ultimately fell asleep while he was mid conversation.

Waving him off upon noticing nighttime’s introduction, you begin back past school, crossing by the playing fields in the process.

And of course, lo and behold, Minho sits on the bleachers, watching an ongoing football practice while glancing down at his lap here and there, apparently writing something.

Seems today you’re running into everyone, huh?

Perks (and curses) of a small town.

Curiosity driving your feet toward him, you carefully jump up the steps, sitting beside him without word.

He obviously senses your presence but fails to speak up, simply letting you peek over his shoulder at his notes (to which you learned were for a class), occasionally striking conversation only to engulf in comfortable quietness once more.

“Hey Minho?” You inhale slowly, heel tapping again the metal bleacher plank below.

He grunts in acknowledgment. 

“Do you think I’m doing a good job?” 

The football coaches whistle blows alarmingly loud, causing either of you to involuntarily flinch. 

Minho, lifting his head from his notebook, studies your face for a moment, from the way your nose perches to your parted lips, he analyzes.

Returning to your eyes, he blinks.

“I do. I mean, we all like you whether we admit it or not.”

The statement causes a smile to stretch your cheeks, turning to face him. 

“Why?”

“Hm.. You actually treated us like human..? It’s like,” He scoffs, one brow twitching upward the longer he thinks. It’s the first time you noticed the small freckle seated atop his right nostril. 

Charming.

“Everybody else seemed to think we were animals.” 

Hearing him say that, it’s almost.. cruel. To think these boys simply needed a friend, a person to count on for a bit. 

But they didn’t. They were deprived.

Yet, in a twisted way, it worked out. Because it led them to you.

“Well you’re doing it right.. I think.”

You shift your weight back onto your hands, humid air finally cooling into an even breeze.

“Thanks Min.”

“Mhm.”

You’ve grown accustomed to accepting good things never last. It’s one of the many things keeping your grip tight on anything you get ahold of.

Though, it strikes you nearly dizzy how quickly something so good turned sour. 

As in, what was once near-conversation between Minho and Felix has now diminished into distanced glares and horrifically heavy silence like before.

Asking the more openly emotional of the two leads to nothing. No explanation, no reasoning. Just a shrug when you ask: “Hey, what’s up with you and Minho?”

More than ever with this group had you learned assumptions lead nowhere. But when assumptions are the sole thing to be made, you feel quite like you’re chasing your own tail in this predicament.

“Minho, you have to come to school. I’m responsible for your attendance.” 

Amongst the week and a half the boy had been absent, you don’t plan to waste the opportunity for confrontation.

No, it isn’t your usual approach, but any softer and he’ll slip right through your fingertips like warmed butter.

Back facing you where he’d been routinely walking his bike behind his house, you stand firm, eyes trained to the cowlick embedded in his hair.

He doesn’t move, nor budge a single centimeter—voice cut and concise upon speaking.

“I’ve been busy.” 

“You’ve been avoiding Felix.”

You can hear him inhale sharply, not daring to turn around.

“I know it isn’t my business, but there was this.. time Felix and I spoke. You two had a falling out again.. right?”

Prodding deeper into the wound, you can feel your heart constricting tighter and tighter in your chest.

“You’re right.” He whispers, tone low enough you crane to hear. “It isn’t your business.”

It’s your turn to suck in a quick breath.

“And.. it isn’t your place pretending like you know what my life is like. I… I’ll come back to school just-“

Ah. That hiccup. The shudder of his shoulders, the ache in his vocal cords.

“Let me deal with this by myself, alright?”

Who are you to disagree? Spoken seconds earlier, it isn’t your business nor your place shoving your nose into his life. 

Synonymously, you don’t blame him. Blame his irritation, his evasiveness.

Whatever this is with Felix runs deeper. It takes but a single glance to dictate that conclusion. Minho’s loss, his hurt. Bottled up feelings bubbling over in their soda can.

When so much of you is battered, you hide, hide in fear that everything will be ripped from your fingertips — that horrid feeling of helplessness; forging grief continuing to wrack you numb.

Minho distanced himself to protect himself, but most importantly to protect them. To protect his friends, to protect Felix.

And yet, he forgot to install a safety net around his own perimeter.

Jittering hands frantically reaching for his bike’s handlebars, and you spectate wordlessly as abundant tears streak down his cheeks the moment a glimpse of his face is seen, fingernails furiously digging into the aged rubber.

“Minho.”

The boy shakes his head, sniffling senselessly before you step forward and grab his collar, lightly yanking him up, redirecting once castaway focus staring down to the cracked pavement below.

“Minho.”

Just then you notice his watery eyes and the heartbreaking, trembling frown adorning his features. Stifling tears.

Thumb carefully tracing his waterline to rid of those beading tears, he leans into your hand, face breaking a bit.

“Just.. please don’t deal with this alone, okay?”

Looking into someone’s eyes had never made you feel like you were dying until now. How can a soul carry such heavy heartache? Grieve so tirelessly even the eyes form as a window?

So broken, so beautiful.

We’re all the same, are we not?

.

.

.

Ten minutes later, seated upon the playing field’s bleachers familiar to the last time you encountered Minho, a comfortable silence answers any of the unspoken questions lingering in afternoon skies.

The boy beside you, puffy eyes and swollen skin, quietly delights in an ice cream bar, your own held between your lips in contemplation before utilizing your thumb and index to speak for a moment.

“I mean, I may dance around in my room to music, but that doesn’t mean I don’t cry in the shower at night. I’m still human, y’know?” 

Curious feline eyes hang onto your words, enough of a beckon to go on.

“My days can be bright, my nights could be dark, there’s no limit to how you’re supposed to feel.”

Leaning forward, you tap his chest with your unoccupied hand.

“And there’s no need to try and reject something you want to feel. Otherwise, you suffocate.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s like.. hmm… if I hated the way I breathed—“

“You hate the way you breathe?” Minho interrupted, giving you an “are you stupid?” look you quickly shake your head at.

“No no, it’s an example,” You defend with a feigned scowl. “So if I hated the way I breathed, I can’t just hold my breath for too long or a pass out, right? You can’t let yourself get to a blackout point for the sake of others.”

The boy across from you sucks on the skin of his cheek, observing your extended pinkie before taking it in his own.

“Promise me you won’t get to that blackout point.” 

Another promise.

Chan, now Minho.

Expression knit thoughtfully, Minho gradually nods, pressing your thumbs together before cracking an amused grin.

“Y’know, that was well-said.”

You chuckle, smacking his shoulder playfully. “I know right? I’m proud of that one.”

Of course he rolls his eyes in return, but you can see the remnant of a smile in the lifted corners of his mouth, the soft, flushed skin of his under eyes crinkling when he grins.

Ah. He’s beautiful, isn’t he?

On July 31th, your summer school class officially makes a close, and you and eight other boys graduate. 

A miracle, maybe a fluke or some sort you made it out in one piece. A task proved possible after all—intentionally or unintentionally.

In the end, perhaps there wasn’t reason to stare at each sheet and pinpoint flaws.

No, Chris isn’t void of life. Hyunjin doesn’t have a superiority complex, and Jisung certainly isn’t senseless. Seungmin gets nervous ordering coffee and hasn’t participated in illegal activities a day in his life. Felix isn’t in an underground gang, and no one has stolen before. 

There’s too many sides to a cube, so most stick to 2D squares. The complexity is shrunk so it’s easier to digest. 

In the end, perhaps you forget it’s all so wondrous in a way, so intricate and raw. 3D. 

Right before you graduated, Hyunjin gave you a painting he made. ‘A thank you for motivating me to add art as my friend’ he had told you. 

Changbin still sleeps with his Snorlax plushie, and 3RACHA released their first album just yesterday. 

Han finally got his license, Seungmin and Jeongin attend Sejong University as freshman, and Felix sells baked goods on Sundays while interning at a local bakery.

Minho volunteers at an animal shelter on the far side of town, he also took up dancing again.

He and Felix began talking again too. 

In the end, perhaps it wasn’t a matter of you helping them, but for the all of you to understand that, in the grand scheme of things, you live on, just as you and Chan had promised.

There is no choice, no point, no break to the cycle. 

It hurts, it burns, it breaks. You glue yourself together, even when the pieces shatter over and over. Shards draw blood, but a glued glass can still be useful, can still be worthy. 

Bruised and battered, scraped and scorned, a connection lies within Stray Kids that sinks deeper than the anchor you planted in a sea of possibilty, a sea of what you thought was something one-sided, a sea you once believed you’d swim alone.

Maybe it’s discovery after discovery that keeps you close, or maybe it’s something deeper.

Nonetheless, your summer—a summer of hellish heartbreak and love reaping all bounds of repercussion—was one to remember.  

A summer solace, for what it’s worth. 

FIC TAGLIST. @kayleefriedchicken, @chaotic-world-of-the-j, @minhosbitterriver, @reignessance, @thatonexcgirl, @panbish-1209, @jeonginplsholdmyhand, @neviestayy, @stayinlimbo, @tenmii, @sunoosmainchick, @hannamoon143, @juliettacandy, @c0smicstxrs

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[starhvney]

BRO. NEW FAN!!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR GENE FICS!!!!!

So much, that I come requesting 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Bully!Gene(if you do that, if not then teenager Gene) x smart or very intelligent reader :)) can be romantic or platonic!!

𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: how ironic is it, when you have to run to someone you’re scared of for protection. maybe, though, you don’t need to be as scared as you are.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: hurt/comfort, slight angst, unsaid feelings from gene but could also be seen as platonic, “i bully her but only i can bully her” ahh trope, i had to give high school gene some masked redeeming qualities because i said so, gene still being gene in high school (so cussing and delinquent behavior, but not towards reader), he scares you a lil but doesn’t actually bully you

𝐂𝐖: reader is bullied by other students, mentions of violence

𝐀/𝐍: i took offff with this trope bro i lowkey wanna write a whole fic rather than a oneshot about this. i relate so much to the goody two shoes smarty pants reader because that’s still me out of high school tbh hahaha thank you for the prompt anon! (also, the scenario was inspired by a clip of a cdrama i saw one time)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you’re not sure why it started. you’re not even sure when.

was it because you were friends with aphmau? or garroth? because you followed the rules and made good grades? or were you just an easy target?

at first, she had only sent glares your way, cerise hair framing that ugly grimace she’d reserved for you when no one was looking. sometimes she’d spit a snide comment or two, aiming to berate you and take you down from the core. but then it got worse. you were “bumped into”. then shoved outright. threatening notes were tucked in your locker when you weren’t looking.

she must have realized people would believe you if you told someone. you had a good standing, kept to yourself, didn’t go out of your way for attention. and she had a reputation to keep, too.

you were shocked, when one day she had stopped. she didn’t speak to you, didn’t hit you. hell, she didn’t even go near you. but it wasn’t because she was done with you, it was because it was going to get worse.

students you didn’t even know started approaching you, accusing you of things you’d never done, berating you, and if no one was looking…

you had wondered every possibility of why and when.

but now, you don’t think of any of that, as a group of boys chased you through the empty halls, spatting unrepeatable insults and threats of violence that you sure weren’t just empty promises. you could barely think—barely breathe and stay ahead—as you sprinted through the side of the school that somehow no teacher nor student could be seen to help.

you still kept your destination set on one spot, a place that would either save you or make your situation a thousand times worse. it was your only option, though, ironically as it was.

bursting through the doors of the school’s outdoor shed, you nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of him—your bleak sliver of hope for survival.

hooded eyes meet yours curiously from under thick lashes and messy black hair, before snapping to the group of boys racing in behind you like a pack of hyenas. his jaw snaps in place, nearly squishing the half burned cigarette that hung from his lips. he sits up from his spot on some stacked gym mats, his purposefully disheveled uniform even messier than usual. they freeze at the doorway, nearly tumbling over the other as their eyes widen at the sight.

“get the fuck out.” is all he has to say, lifting a scabbed-over hand to flick ash in their direction as they scramble back out of sight.

your relief is short lived, you realize, as you’re now left alone with him. you anxiously shy away from his dark blue gaze, your legs wobbling as they try to take you towards the door. you nearly jump out of your own skin when his tall build quickly intercepts your path, his arm lazily reaching out to shut the door and seclude the two of you inside.

“not you.”

you back up as he begins to pace toward you, every two steps you take one of his before you’re finally stopped by the shelf behind you. the scent of a musky cologne and cigarette smoke invades your senses as he also stops, face merely inches away from yours as he looks down at you.

“how did you know i was in here?”

you quickly turn to try and run around him, but his hand connects against the shelf to your right. as you flinch and try to turn the other way his other arm has already pinned you in, leaving you completely trapped.

“i’m sorry.” you finally muster, head ducked as you stare at the ground in front of you. “i didn’t know.”

“so you just happened to run into me here in a place no one has caught me in, yet, huh?” he tilts his head. “you thought it would be smart to run in a secluded area with no escape while a group of boys was after you, is that it?”

you stay silent, fighting away the tears of exhaustion and anxiety biting at your eyes. gene looks away from you towards the door again, plucking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling more smoke from his lungs.

his eyes flick back down to you, watching as your features flinch in displeasure and nausea as some of the smoke catches in your face. a second passes before he drops it to the concrete flooring, putting out the lit paper and nicotine under his shoe.

“you may be smarter than me when it comes to academics but i’m not falling for that. you think i haven’t noticed you watching me? somehow always “running into me” when you’re in trouble?”

the blood drains from your face as you realize you’ve been caught, your teary eyes dreadfully trained at the wall.

“it’s kind of rude to take advantage of me like that and not pay me back…” he trails, calculating eyes trained on every reaction and expression you give. “maybe i’ll make you join my group and do my dirty work for me.”

you curse internally at the tears that fall from your eyes, unable to contain themselves in your eyes as they spill over. an embarrassed moment passed before a busted up hand brushes against your cheek, catching the delicate and salty liquid on his fingers. you flinch, finally facing him as your reddened eyes meet his. his expression is unreadable, making a face you hadn’t seen on him before.

“nah. you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” he finally says, his voice nearly startling you.

a couple seconds more pass as he stares at your silent tears, eyebrows furrowing before he makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. he straightens his posture, lifting his arms away and releasing you from his trap.

“they should be gone now.” he waves his hand, motioning towards the shed door for you to leave when you don’t move as if his intentions had been obvious in the first place. 

“go.”

“what? you don’t want anything?” you ask, voice wobbling.

“i don’t care for ivy’s style. and people like you aren’t any fun to mess with, anyways...” he says, his eyes finally leaving yours for once as he stares off at the wall behind you, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

you hesitate a second more, but you don’t have time to dissect his body language or choice of words, so you quickly head towards the door. you pause one last time before running out, turning to him again.

“thank you.”

and then you’re gone. gene groans, cursing under his breath and running his hand through his hair as he trails to the doorway to watch you disappear back into the school again. you weren’t sure how to feel when your aggressors stopped approaching you so much, their presence replaced by a distant glimpse you’d catch of messy black hair in your peripheral. sometimes you’d even notice sasha or zenix quietly trailing after you in the hall, but you knew better than to question it, gratefully keeping your head down.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, mentions of sex, hospital scare, ghosting, rumors as a plot device, what may be considered as bullying, mc refuses to monologue about her feelings, the works. WORD COUNT. preview: 1.2k words | full fic: est. 30k.

RELEASE DATE. end of may or within the month of june. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. this is a sequel to 모기 / MOGI. remember when i said i wasn’t planning on writing a part two to this? haha, remember? well, this might be my best work yet gosh darn, life works in mysterious ways! i poured my entire fucking soul into this! 

something i’d like to mention is that i’ve already planned out this entire sequel before beomgyu’s sukidakara cover came out, before i revisited his other two covers. the timing was crazy because there’s three major arcs to this fic— and somehow, all three songs fit the themes. really really well i started crying at some point HAHAHAHAHHA. there’s so much i want to say about this story, but i’ll bite my tongue until its release. enjoy!

preview under the cut.

YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims. 

Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.

Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.

“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”

Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom for the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.

“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.

“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.

“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”

Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.

“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”

Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. Beomgyu turns his head around.

“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”

No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”

“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”

Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”

Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”

Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”

You look at him, drink now back in your hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”

Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here,, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.

“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”

And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air. You’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still, it’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.

“Saved you a seat.”

You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.

It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well. 

“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”

“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.

“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.

“I have summer classes,” you answer..

Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?” 

“Yup.”

“You bet on it.”

He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”

You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[impactedfates]

Hi it's me again. Incoming massive word vomit alskdlfkdjfkj sorry! :')

Can I request a platonic fic of Dan Feng and a very young, quiet and stressed Vidyadhara!reader who frequents the Alchemy Commission? Basically, Reader is an Emanator of the Hunt with an armored form (but it's draining so she can't maintain it for very long).

Those injuries that she shows up with? They're not from fighting bullies, they're from fighting small-scale invasions of Abundance monsters when the Cloud Knights aren't able to (for whatever reason).

Her Emanator form that takes stamina to maintain? Probably why she is constantly exhausted. Kiddo's burning too many calories while on an atrociously light diet. Probably passed out from hunger and lack of sleep a few times.

She hides it all and no longer hangs out with her friends because there was a time when a friend was targeted to draw her out and that just—it wasn't fun. :') Now she's one of the Luofu's worst bundles of anxiety...

You decide when and how Dan Feng finds out. 8')))))

(My friend was reading over my shoulder and they said that this feels like a Spider-Man & Aunt May situation AKLSDJFLAKDJSFLKJDKFJ)

★ A/N: Haha, it kinda does actually, this isn't as long as some of my other fics but I hope this was alright anyways anon!! Sorry it took awhile

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort? (Kinda, not rlly at the same time)

★ Format: Fic (W.C: 1073)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of passing out

★ Extra: Request had she/her pronouns used but reader in this is still GN with they/them // Possible OOC Dan Feng

Being granted power from the Aeon of Hunt themself is a blessing many may have stated. Others think otherwise, but one thing is for sure. Anyone who has been lucky to be blessed with power from any Aeon was powerful.

Many also believe a teenager should not be blessed with this power, and if they are to inform someone. The power given cannot be taken lightly, yet you. You refuse to let anyone know of your status of being an Emantor.

Nor let anyone know why Scalegorge Waterscape has never seen another Abundance Monster invasion. Everyone enjoys the peace and no one questions it. The only time it was finally addressed just who was responsible for keeping the area safe was when someone was being attacked and someone quickly stepped in.

No one knew who it was, no one knew it was you saving them. No one knew it was your friend who had been attacked and you had to quickly step in to save them. And that was fine by you, you didn’t WANT anyone to know your identity.

From that day alone you knew if people knew who you were, that meant the Abundance  Monsters could find out and will target someone even dearer to you. You didn’t even know how they found out who you were friends with, but all that matters was that the less they knew about you. The less your loved ones would get hurt.

It’s no wonder why many advise younger people of the Xianzhou to inform someone if they ever become an Emantor. Just looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing how tired you are. How much this “job” has taken a toll on you was enough to tell you, to remind you that you should’ve told someone.

It was too late for that anyways, you still had to save people. And when you were returning back from your trip to the alchemy commission, you spotted a Foxian about to be ambushed, so as always. You stepped in with your Emantor form. Unbeknownst to you though, that may have been the last straw for your body, as you bid the Foxian goodbye and you turn to leave, your body finally gave way and all you could see after that was black

. 

.

.

.

.

You may have escaped the many questions thrown at you when asked why you were home late or when people point out the injuries you’ve just sustained. But perhaps your luck was running thin as now you were in front of the High Elder Dan Feng himself. To make matters worse, he did NOT look pleased.

Okay so maybe you weren’t in front of him, at least not standing. You were laying down and with one head turn to the side you caught the eyes of a very displeased High Elder. He arose from the seat he had taken and looked at the Vidyadhara near him.

“Leave, I need to talk to them”

The woman nodded before leaving the room, quickly his eyes turned back to you. Slowly you sat up and your body and slightly moved away.

“H-high Elder…w-what are you doing he-”

“Are you feeling okay?”

He quickly cuts you off. Staring at you, his eyes soften a bit as he reaches a hand out to check your forehead.

“The healers said you had many injuries covering your body. Why is this?”

“...Just some bullies, nothing to be worried about”

He stared at you before removing his hand and crossing his arms. Silence filled the room quickly. Your eyes trailed away from his realising he wasn’t going to believe you.

“I found you, passed out on the ground…and from people who were in the area. The famous ‘Emantor of the Hunt’ was there saving a Foxian, no?”

“...”

“...You’re the Emantor aren’t you?”

He could only sigh as you continued to have your lips sealed, unwilling to speak. Unwilling to give away your secret. But that was all he really needed to know the truth. You felt the weight of the bed shift as he sat down near you. He closes his eyes as he takes a small breath.

“You should’ve-”

“I know…I’m…I’m sorry…I just”

“It’s okay…but…you’re going to have to tell someone, your parents”

“B-but if I do, t-the abundance beasts…t-they’ll know. They’re gonna h-hurt my fa-”

Dan Feng quickly casts his gaze toward you, promptly shutting you up. He sighs a bit. He knows why you won’t tell, he knows people who are young don’t always follow advice people tell them when something happens. So he understands, at least he’s trying too.

“I will deal with the Abundance Monsters, I’ll get Cloud Knights and some of my friends to do so. You are still a kid. You shouldn’t be handling this kind of responsibility. And as your High Elder, I urge you to tell your family”

“...but-”

“But nothing, you don’t have to tell them right away but you will eventually…you will also no longer be fighting these monsters. Not until you're old enough…if you truly wish to continue helping, then wait till you're older. Then you can come to me and I’ll take you in as my pupil. I’ll teach you how to manage your abilities and how to fight even without your form”

You stare at him for a while. A good while before casting your eyes down, playing with your hands. Still unsure about the decision you didn’t get to play a part in. A part of you wants to rebel, the other part knows. Knows that what Dan Feng is saying is correct. It knows he only wants the best for you, still no words can be formed. You were still tired, all you could do was weakly nod.

Even if you were to refuse, Dan Feng is a stubborn one. He nods approvingly before standing up and walking to the door, he looks back at you.

“I’ll get you a meal, what would you prefer?”

You gave your answer and soon he left. You slowly laid down on the bed once again. Closing your eyes and slowly you were sent to the land of dreams.

When Dan Feng comes back with your choice of food, he spots you asleep on the bed. Resting the blood on the table next to yours, he sits down back on the chair, watching you. The peaceful look on your face gives him peace of mind.

“Sleep well then little one”

Finally cleared out all my requests haha. They'll still be closed for now though. Thank you anon for being patient with me and I hope you enjoyed.

[spencer-sweets]

House MD Fic Recs | House/Wilson

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so... my first foray into this fandom after passively watching clips of it on youtube growing up. finally got around to watching it even though i have spoiled myself with all of the fan content i consumed before even finishing season 1. this is just some of my favorite fics i have compiled here. :) hope yall feel old knowing this show is older than me - and i can vote.

I'd Make A Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 11,357 Summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband.

as someone who has a very complicated relationship with religion, this fic warmed my heart. the devotion from house in this fic to be able to put aside his own feelings towards religion in the small chance that he really does owe wilson's life to a higher power blew me away.

Riddle Me by magie_05 (LJ) R (I would say Teen+) 12,300 House loves puzzles. Wilson…doesn’t. When House starts asking his friend seemingly pointless questions that get progressively more confusing, Wilson’s left to wonder what (if anything) it means.

i loved the way they communicated in this fic and it was fun to try to figure out the riddles with wilson

fifteen minutes by eating_custardinbed (ao3) Mature 11,907 When James Wilson came to work this morning, he was expecting a normal day. That is, he has been expecting to tell a few people they were dying, getting bullied into buying his grumpy best friend lunch, maybe flirting with the new nurse in radiology to make him feel just a little better about his third divorce. What he has not been expecting is to be locked in his office with a madman, staring down the barrel of a gun. or, wilson gets shot and locked in his office. he and house have a conversation

oh, my beloved trope of one character thinking the other is about to die but not wanting to show how scared they are. hurt/comfort and wilson is hurt - right up my alley.

Defensive Strategies by m_butterfly (Wayback) NC-17 (Explicit) 14398 In which Wilson has a problem, House has a cunning plan, girls hunt in packs, chocolate cake has unexpected dangers, furniture is unintentionally ordered, several conversations occur, and dinner is repeatedly served.

this was a cute getting together fic that was funny and heavily recommended back in the say - at least from my sleuthing.

House-opathy Series: Diagnosis: Wilson, Patient Write Up: Cameron, Chase Foreman, Treatment: House by Commodoresexual (LJ) PG13 (Teen+) 14498 Wilson gets more than he bargained for when he lets the ducklings diagnose him - Cameron, Chase and Foreman delve into the healing process for Wilson - You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

these were cute fics that were admittedly written prior to my conception. i enjoyed reading them - it follows the ducklings as they diagnose wilson with being in love with house and how the two get together.

Lost Causes by Eos (Wayback) PG13 (Teen+) 17164 An unguarded comment from Wilson proves to be quite unsettling for House's state of mind. Has three sequels, Same as It Ever Was, Reverse Psychology, and Foolish Hearts

this fic is older than me by almost half a month... that being said it can only be found in the deep recesses of the wayback machine. i enjoyed this fic and its sequels when i read them - it is mostly house coming to terms with his feelings for wilson following an accident in the first fic

Things That Go Bump by peg22 (ao3) Explicit 18,381 Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them. This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace. "Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."

was actually reminded of this fic while digging through the recesses of old livejournal fic recs for house. i thought "hey wait.. wasn't that also on ao3?" it is! which saves you all the formatting of chapters that aren't linked and are spread across the original livejournal page it was uploaded on. but this fic is sweet and is a hurt/comfort nightmare fic done well. very dialogue heavy but very much in character.

R.I.C.E in Reverse by Phate Pheonix (FF.Net) Teen+ 22,000 An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson had discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.

i remember this fic being longer than it was but i also remember really enjoying this fic. cuddy is a bit of a bitch in this but i don't find it to be bashing or anything - they (house & cuddy) are the same as they are in the show they just don't end up together like they do in the episode this is based on. also wilson coming to terms with his feelings for house. the writing is great and feels like it could be out of an episode of house.

buy some time, it's on my dime by ORiley42 (ao3) Explicit 27,034 Well, this took a longer time to write than I expected! Probably because it's five times longer than I intended lmao Wanted to try my hand at something more AU-ish. Though, because House is an ornery bastard and won’t do what I say at all, the setting is still broadly the same. The main difference being that House and Wilson have never met… I’d say this has season 1 vibes, but no actual timeline or plot refs. Also, AU idea sparked by I57371’s lovely “Phoning It In.” Also-also, title from "Nothing New" by Fly By Midnight.

this is not the only time you will see this author on this list - for good reason. i'm traditionally not one for au's or for strangers to lovers fics... but this one pulled it off. very smutty but the plot is still fun.

Witness, Witness by SkyeBean (ao3) Teen+ 29,111 It was past midnight when Wilson arrived, and House’s team had all left hours before. Cameron was the last to go, shooting House a pitying look as she pulled her coat on, but House had ignored her. A Wilson who’s been dating House for years doesn’t work at Princeton-Plainsboro. It takes House’s team years to find out that their boss is dating someone, let alone who, but they see more of the relationship than they know.

cute! what-if house and wilson did not work together but were together prior to season one. its a fun secret relationship fic.

Something to Prove by orphan_account (ao3) Teen+ 30,700 When House suddenly wants to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he'd held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

if you don't like angst this one isn't for you. house is kind of a massive dick in this one and spends the rest of the fic trying to make it up to wilson and win him over. has sequels that i did not read.

little glass vial by SupposedToBeWriting (ao3) Mature 39,093 House and Wilson have a peculiar friendship - though if you asked Wilson, sleeping together once while one man was reeling from a traumatic surgery slash breakup and the other was in a failing marriage isn't all that unusual between friends. They manage to make it work, mostly by never bringing it up again. While out, a patient's grieving brother approaches Wilson and injects him with an unknown compound. Wilson is rushed to the hospital. Though initially fine, he begins to exhibit strange and deadly symptoms. House is swept into a case that he cannot emotionally distance himself from, with a patient that he has exceptionally complex feelings for. Wilson clings to life as House hits brick wall after brick wall, desperate to save the one person he can't lose.

hurt/comfort with sick!wilson. Its also a case fic with a race against time that i enjoyed.

A Patient's Guide to Living with ICS by ORiley42 Explicit 40,071 House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference. Read on for goofy acronyms, endless banter, horny middle-aged men, and more!

smutty work conference + friends with benefits to lovers fic. also!!! this author is generally just great with house fics.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz (ao3) Explicit 55,649 Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.")

its on everyone's rec list - i know. but this is my rec list and i enjoyed it so its going on here. marriage of convenience trope my beloved. it has a sequel that everyone says is great but i haven't gotten around to it... yet.

Gaseous Nebula by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 77,372 After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving one of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answers. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

another hurt/comfort fic that i absolutely adored. also, the second time this author is on the list! god i enjoyed reading this one - it had me on the edge of my seat despite how fantastical it is sometimes. felt like quality television surrealism with how bizarre some of the coincidences are but it tied everything together and had a happy ending.

there is a sequel but I have never read it and it is incomplete.

either love is a shrine (or else, a scar) by jamesevanwilson (ao3) Mature 79,985 House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler. Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

fake marriage in order to get money from house's dads will with a heafty dose of miscommunication and mutual pining between these morons.

It Will Find You in the End by junkyard_angel Mature 146,954 Gregory House is a misanthropic bastard with trust issues, who doesn't do feelings. But he's pretty sure he's in love -- or lust -- or something anyway -- with his best friend. Life is funny, in a not-funny way.  *UPDATE* -- Here's a link to the Spotify playlist of all songs referenced in this fic to date. Happy reading/listening! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76B4n4UUncNYJG8scmKqVc?si=e5cd5de147924fb5 Thanks as always for reading, and feedback and comments are welcomed.

god this fic was long (not that thats a bad thing). they finally get together but then they also break up and then get back together so if angst isn't your cup of tea...

Here is a link to a great fic on ao3 with links to old house fic recs https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826263

I will update this as I read more/comb back through the LJ and FF.net archives that I slouthed through. I didn't keep track of most of those before i decided to make this list :/ sorry

originally posted 8/13/2024

[ghoularaki]

the lonely district

↠  summary: In the years after the slime monster incident and Midoriya's disappearance, he had come back to haunt both you and Bakugou. He no longer was the boy you once knew, but a villain ready to take what was his. Revenge was best served cold, afterall.

↠  word count: 7, 523

↠ pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x midoriya izuku

↠ genre/warnings: smut, angst, prohero au, DARK CONTENT, villain deku, yandere, shock collars, implied stalking, kidnapping. NSFW (NONCON, sub! reader, (reluctant) switch! katsuki, dom! izuku, fuck or die, loss of virginity, creampie, spanking, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, blowjob, no aftercare)

↠ a/n: this is an old fic i have been trying to finish since 2019 so im sorry if the writing feels inconsistent. i just really wanted to finally finish it since it was half finished. also excuse the very outdated villain deku trope rip

It’s been a long day and honestly you just wanted to go home. For some reason, your supervisor thought it was a good idea to pair you with Dynamight or rather Bakugou Katsuki—your childhood friend. If you could even call him that. For the longest time, you both had not gotten along, but since you had the mutual friend of Midoriya Izuku, you had to interact. That all changed when Bakugou got his quirk and he turned into a cruel bully. The dynamic and interaction formula was always the same: Bakugou would torture Midoriya in any way he could, Midoriya would just let it happen and you would defend him, turning it into a full blown brawl between you and Bakugou. It stayed like this for a while until that day Bakugou was held hostage by that slime monster and Midoriya went missing.

After that you had clung onto Bakugou in a desperate need to make sense of both of them getting hurt on the same day and the loss of your best friend. Surprisingly, Bakugou let you. But not without string of degrading names following. Despite his harsh words, he never once pushed you away anytime you silently sought comfort. Even though he didn’t act like it, he too was affected by Midoriya’s disappearance. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he just missed his punching bag, or maybe he finally matured.

You would never know since he was so emotionally constipated. It was a bitch and a half just to get him to admit that you were one of the most important people in his life. Even now as you are both pro-heroes in your early twenties, it’s difficult for him to call you his best friend. Sure, he would be concerned if anything happened to you—that worry built with your childhood friend missing—he would rather die than confess to that.

Thing is, Midoriya didn’t stay “missing” for so long. No, he wasn’t found nor was his body. No, he never returned to his poor mother after years of being gone with open arms. No, there was never a “welcome back” sign, but his face plastered on every wanted poster within Japan. The bastard had joined the League of Villain with a big ol’ grin on his freckled face. That cursed day when you met with those emerald eyes again had haunted you forever. Tears streamed down your face, watching him be reborn into a whole new person. He didn’t have an ounce of guilt in his bones, he only gave a maniac smile, mocking you. 

Didn’t you miss me, N/n-chan? You look a little… sad, He drawled out with a smug look, glee coursing through his veins as you sob as if you had found him dead instead of him breathing, finally alive. 

It was when he had escaped that Bakugou for once let you clutch onto him, holding in his own sorrow as you openly sob into his shirt. And he did it again when the League of Villains was supposedly defeated but Midoriya or rather Deku still ran rampant. 

That’s where you two are now, there was another sighting of Deku in the area and you were assigned to bring him to face judgement. You knew what would become of him if you caught him. Still clinging onto the memory of an innocent child, you almost hoped that you would never find him. 

Bakugou had other plans.

Since day one he had wanted to find that bastard (his words, not yours) and give him absolute hell for becoming a villain. 

“It’s probably just another false alarm, just like the other seven,” You sassed him as you both walk towards an alleyway. 

“Doesn’t fucking matter, we still have check just in case this time it’s not,” Bakugou growls stopping away.

You rolled your eyes and made a face at him from behind his back.

As if he had a sixth sense, he barked, “I know you’re being a brat. I would stop if I were you or else you want your ass blow into the fucking stratosphere.”

Once you both got to the alley way only to be met with a dumpster, you pivoted and raised your brow at Bakugou. He rolled his eyes at you and went towards the dumpster. He opened it to see if there was any hints or evidence Deku even here. Still standing near the entrance of the alley, you the hair on your neck rose. A primal instinct that you were being watched set alarm bells ringing in your head. As subtle as you could, your eyes bounced around the enclosed area in hopes to find the danger before it finds you. 

A bad feeling sunk in your stomach like a rock does in water. Hesitantly you said, “Hey Dynamight, I think we should leave.”

“And why the fuck should we, Umbra,” He spat out your hero name. 

“Because,” you strained, still observing your surroundings, “I have a bad feeling about this. I think we should leave and get some back up.”

He slammed down the lid and stalks up to you, venom in his voice, “Are you running away from a fight.”

“No—” You started, but he cut your off.

“Oh really,” He mocked, “Because to me, it seems that you are.”

“Can you not be an asshole for a couple seconds and listen to me?” Your voice pitched, not understanding why he’s being so difficult. 

“Listen to you? Now why would I listen to you when it seems to me that you are avoiding any place that could have him in it?” You were about to start defending yourself when he cuts you off again. “It’s almost like you don’t want to find him.”

Your eyes widen at him, you couldn’t even feel offending knowing it’s the truth. Though, you rather not fuel Bakugou’s already large ego and denied him. “I’m just trying to make sure none of us get hurt!”

“I don’t need your fucking concern, I can beat any asshole including him easily,” He boasted.

“Oh get the fuck over yourself,” you barked, scowling at him. “Stop acting like you’re the fucking best, asshole.”

“I’m sorry what was that, Number Seven Hero?” Bakugou stepped closer until his face were mere centimeters away from yours. You just glare up at him, not caring that the height difference made you seem less intimidating. 

“This isn’t the time for a dick measuring contest, something doesn’t fucking feel right here and I just want to make sure neither us get seriously injured.” You jabbed your finger in his chest to emphasized your point.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” He roared and grabbed on your wrist to throw it away from him. 

You ran your fingers through your hair and then pull at it in frustration, “Why can’t you just let me help you—help us for once! You don’t always have to be the savior,” You let out a growl before finishing, “Fleeing isn’t being a coward, it’s being smart enough to analyze the situation and your own weaknesses!”

“So you’re call me fucking stupid now, you shitty brat,” he bit.

“That’s all you got from that?!” You screeched before letting out a laugh that held no humor, “You’re fucking helpless.”

“Helpless? I’m the helpless one? You’re the one that wants to fucking run away just because you ‘have a bad feeling’.” He did air quotes around what you had said.

“Oh God, Lord fucking forbid, I’m just looking out for both of our asses since you want to play big macho man!”

As you both start a screaming match with each other, you failed to notice the emerald eyes stalking you like a cat does a mouse. 

“You’re so fucking clingy just like that damn Deku, hop off my dick,” He snarled and clicked his tongue at you as if you were a misbehaving child.

Rage built up within your chest at his ill words. Syllables that were only meant to maim almost leave your tongue when you heard a noise a little too close to comfort. Adrenaline coursed through your bones, knowing your suspicions were right. You grabbed onto Bakugou’s wrist and turned towards the dark corner of the alley to fade into the shadows in hopes to escape. You ignored how he starts to yell profanities at you. Before you could even take two steps, you were pulled back by your hair into a firm body. 

You let out a grunt at the sting from the strands being pulled from their follicles. 

“Not so fast,” The voice whispered in your ear. 

Growling, you elbowed the person in the stomach and jump away from them before they could grab you again. When you turned around, you jaw dropped in shock.

“Izu-chan?” You stuttered out. 

“In the flesh,” he taunted with arms raised to the side.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He had matured so much since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter but still as unruly, his jawline was chiseled along with his cheekbones, he still wore a dress shirt with a vest and tie, but for once it was tied properly. 

“Finally decided to fucking show up,” Bakugou seethed. 

Midoriya pouted as he lets his arms drop with a whomp sound against his outer thighs.

“Oh come on, Kacchan don’t be like that. I thought this could be like a family reunion,” He gives a grand smile before it dropped, venom in his tone, “Didn’t you miss me?” 

“Sure, miss you so much, you shit stain.”

Midoriya fiegned hurt and clutched his chest in dramatics, “Oh, how you wound me so, dear Kacchan.”

Bakugou straightened out his back and got in a offensive position, “Enough with the fluff, Deku. It’s time I send your ass to jail.”

Cheek twitching, Midoriya glanced at you still shellshocked. Bakugou came at him, arms positioned behind him to perpell him at the shorter male. Right as Bakugou raised his fist to blast Midoriya in the face, he grabbed you and placed you right in front of him. Bakugou skidded to a halt with widened eyes, not wanting to hurt you in the process. You locked eyes with him. Your knees wobbled from being manhandled so easily.

“Using a girl to shield you is low.”

Midoriya simply shrugged and brought a hand up to cradle your throat. His fingers tightened when he felt you gulp underneath his gloved hands.

“Scared, Love?” He slithered in your ear. He looked down at you, before peered up at Bakugou. At his enraged expression, he licked the shell of your ear. You whimpered and flinched away the best you could.

This was exactly why you didn’t want to meet Midoriya. Even before he disappeared, he was smart and cunning. He knew how to get under Bakugou’s skin, and render you useless. Tears bubbled up as you faced the fact the boy you once loved had died long ago. Pretending to still trembled, you subtly widened your stance. Bringing a hand to Midoriya’s, he took it as you sniveling.

“Shh, don’t cry.”

Looking at Bakugou, you hardened your expression. Quickly, you gripped Midoriya’s wrist and with all your might you stepped forward and used his weight against him to throw him over your shoulder. When his back hit the ground, he let out an irritated grunt.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the quirk cancelling handicuffs on your belt and raced towards him. As you went to straddle him, he kicked your feet from under you and you fell with him. Bakugou took your place and was on top of Midoriya in no time. With acute flexibility, Midoriya spun around and kicked Bakugou in the face.

“Gah! Fuck,” Bakugou growled while gripping his face.

Wind still knocked out of you, Midoriya focused on Bakugou.

“You were always stupidly resilient,” The villain seethed. “I’m done playing games.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Bakugou lunged at him, ready to blast him to kingdom come. Midoriya side stepped his attack. Huffing, he went at him again. The two of them stayed the dance for a while. Any attack Bakugou attempted to do, Midoriya merely avoided with such leisure. The asshole even had his hands behind his back.

Watching as you got up to join the fight as well, Midoriya sighed. “Stubborn, the both of you.”

With such grace, he grabbed Bakugou’s hair and slammed his knee into his face. Stunned, the hero stumbled back. Before he could process the hit, Midoriya kicked him in the head, rendering him useless. Your mouth gaped at Bakugou being so easily taken out. His lids flickered as he struggled to get up.

“R-run,” He commanded, before falling.

Scrambling away from the villain, you sucked in your breath as you go to phase into the shadows. Before you could, Midoriya gripped you again. This time, his hands wrapped the column of your throat and squeezed. Frantically, you slapped against his forearms.

Adding more pressure, he leaned over you as you form slacked to the ground.

“Sweet dreams.”

Bakugou was the first to come to his senses. He squinted his eyes to adjust to the light that hung above him. He groaned as he observed his surroundings, noticing that he was in a dingy basement. There wasn’t much besides a queen size bed near the corner along with a door that he had no idea where it led and an opening with stairs peeking around the corner from where he saw.

Clutching his head, he turned to see your still slumbering form not far from him. Panic built up in him as he scrambled over to you and sighed in relief when there is no sign of vital injures. He starts to shake you awake, trying to think of a plan to escape.

After a couple moments, you let out a hum and your eyelids fluttered open. Just like Bakugou your eyes squinted at the sudden light probing at your pupils. 

“Katsu,” You groaned, mind still fuzzy so the old nickname slipped out. Your throat killed.

Bakugou shakily exhaled, glancing towards the concealed stairwell, “Yeah, it’s me.” His hands are gentle as he helped you up into a sitting position. You lean against his chest, body to exhausted to even hold yourself up. Which was odd to you since you were sure that Bakugou got the brunt of each hit that Midoriya landed.

“Where are we?” You asked huskily despite knowing that he probably was just as clueless as you.

“Why the fuck would I know that, brat,” He bit, before sighing and apologizing. He’s just irritated that you both were captured.

“It’s fine, it was a stupid question, anyway,” You smile up at him. 

Bakugou looked down at you and then furrowed his brow when he sees the collar around your neck along with a prominient bruise. Now that he thought about it, he felt one around him, too. You seemed to also notice as you reached towards him and traced the collar, confusion written on your face.

You and him were clad in different clothes as well. Instead of his hero suit, he now adorned plain sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You were wearing the same, but shorts instead. What a fucking perv.

Before you two could question each other, the thud of door opened and closed, followed by rhythmic footsteps coming down the stairs. Your heads snapped to the sound and Bakugou took a defensive stance to see Midoriya strut into the basement with a valiant smirk. You scrambled to stand with Bakugou, but your legs give out for a second and he had to catch you. Once you were sure on your feet, you glared at the man in front of you. 

“Aw why such aggressive faces,” The villain pouted.

“You know damn well why, you fucking bastard,” Bakugou seethed, tiny explosions crackling in his palms. 

You glanced to the shadows creeping up the walls. Shifting your attention to the stand off that the two men were having, you only hoped Bakugou could distract Midoriya enough for you to slip passed him. Ignoring the way your heart pounds at the thought of joining the darkness once again, you raced towards the vantablack. Almost like predicting your movements, Midoriya grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. His arm snaked around your waist. You struggled as best as you can, but his grip got so tight a squeak left your lungs.

“Aw, N/n-chan, you so adorable,” He nuzzles into your neck. He trailed his cold nose up the slope your neck, purposely digging into the bruise, up to your cheek so he could whisper in your ear, “Have you ever heard of cute aggression? It’s quite a funny concept. Humans when we see something cute, we just find the need to squeeze it until it cries or even die. Funny, right?” As he speaks his grip only got tighter and you stand straight as a pole as he licked the shell of your ear, again.

“Get the fuck away from her, you freak.” 

Bakugou took a step towards you, but Midoriya dropped his hold on your wrist, to fish something from his dress pants pocket. The hero observed the other man, not wanting to be too brash when your life is on the line. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

Midoriya started to fiddle with what looks like a remote between his gloved fingers. “I would be careful what you say, Kacchan, because the results may be… shocking,” He smirked to himself at his own little inside joke. 

“What was I saying, my angel?” Midoriya began, but you kneed him in the crouch and jumped away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You commanded, ready to fight your childhood friend—no, this villain.

Instead of instantly attacking, Midoriya stayed bent down, clutching his stomach as he giggled. A shiver crawled up your spine at his laugh that lost all warmth it once had. He was insane. He cackled for what seemed to be ages before he stands up straight and all humor gone from his face. 

“Interrupt me one more time, and I swear to god,” He snarled, his doe eyes dropped into menacing slits. “As I was saying,” Midoriya reached for you again, but you slapped it away.

“I said don’t touch me,” You spat at him.

“Fine be like that, fucking brat.” 

Searing hot pain was all you felt. You screamed at the top of your lungs as you collapsed onto the cement floor in front the villain. Bakugou could only watch in horror at your shrill howls. You desperately clawed at the collar around your throat as it felt as if liquid fire was shot into your veins. 

“What are you doing? Fucking stop it, you’re hurting her!” Bakugou practically begs as your body withered in agony. 

Midoriya only shrugged, “I believe that dwindling down the pain is the best way to train."

You gasped for breath, struggling to get even an ounce of oxygen. 

“She’s not a damn dog!” Bakugou felt so helpless as he watched you struggled to inhale and he growled when your face starts to turn vermillion. “She can’t fucking breathe, you bastard!”

Cold washed over your body. Falling onto your side, you sucked in as much air as you can try to ignore the urge to vomit. 

With such a disgusting poise, Midoriya beny down and sat you up. He forced you to lean against his chest just as you did with Bakugou. “Poor baby, you tried so hard to save you and Bakugou. You even attempted to use your quirk. Isn’t it scary? You still sleep with the lights on, don’t you?” He cradled you and his tone was just so condescending but you couldn’t do anything about it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bakugou questioned.

“Oh, he doesn’t know,” Midoriya teased, keeping his eyes on you. He felt twisted arousal at those tear stained cheek and how you lips shimmered with spit. “The poor, little baby is terrified of the dark. Absolutely terrified!”

"What?"

"Pretty juvenile, isn't it?” He mocked, then turned his attention to the hero a couple feet from him. “To be honest, she didn't plan ever using her quirk again after that incident when she first got her quirk. You remember it, right? She was missing for hours, poor thing was stuck in the shadows all alone. But, after seeing you captured by that slimy fuck and my 'disappearance' poor thing blamed herself for not being strong enough. That day on she promised to become stronger to find me and make sure her dear friends will never be harmed again. Isn't that just sweet. The perfect hero story."

Multiple emotions flashed on Bakugou’s face; confusion, worry, anger and guilt. "Why— why would you become a hero for such a stupid reason, huh?! I can protect myself!" His words were sharp as he glared you down, hating how dazed you look. Despite his declarement, guilt tugged at his heart. He couldn’t help but think if he was just a little stronger and didn’t fuel your need to be a hero, than either of you would be in this situation. 

Softly, the villain started to wipe away the drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth and the tears that had yet to dry from your face. You furrowed your brow and tried to focus on Bakugou and answer his question that sounded more like a plea. 

"I just wanted to be strong, too. You and Izu-chan always protected me so I wanted to return the favor." The words were slurred but it still stirred something in both of the men. 

"And just how sweet," Deku seethed, now gripping your cheeks so hard your lips became puckered. He pulldc your face close to his before he clicked his tongue and pushed your face away, letting your body dropped as he stood. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your reactions were slow so your head hit the concrete with an audible thud.

Bakugou attempted to go to you to check you were okay, but Midoriya held up the remote.

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tutted at the hero with a wagging finger, “If you haven’t noticed, I get to say what goes and I don’t think I said you could go near her.”

Bakugou only growled like a feral dog but doesn’t move in fear of seeing you in such misery again. “You’re a bastard I hope you know that.”

“And what does that make you, Kaccan,” Midoriya’s tone was cold, so cold that the temperature dropped. 

You stared down the remote, formulating a plan. If you could only grab the damn remote then he won’t hold so much power you both and you can move freely. Seeing that he was distracted by Bakugou, you pushed yourself up to stand. Not caring how your bones screamed to rest, you slinked up and reeled your fist up to punch him with all your might. A whoosh came from how fast your went to strike. Your breath caught in your throat as Midoriya seize your fist without even looking at you.

“You stupid, stupid girl,” He sung without any emotion. He snatched your jaw and shook your head, amusement in his eyes as you tried to kick and squirm. Without any effort, he threw you away and you fell to a heap onto the floor. “Stupid, stupid girl,” He repeated and then he pressed onto the remote. 

A loud grunt cracked and echoed into the basement. You watched in horror as Bakugou crampled to the cement, trying his damndest to get the collar off. A shiver ran down your back, knowing exactly how he must feel.

“He didn’t didn't do anything!" You screeched.

"Right now he didn't," Midoriya shrugged, watching how the mighty fall with a smile. 

Bakugou let out a shout he tried to hold back, not wanting to give Midoriya the satisfaction or to worry you. It was too late for that though as you crawled over to the villain. You clutched onto his pants, begging, “Please just let him go. Just make it stop please.” New tears started to form watching the most important person to you crumpled over in pain on his knees. 

A gagging noise rings in your ears as his face is now red like a rose. 

“Please!” You screeched, now hugging Midoriya’s legs and gazing up at him with watery eyes. Snot and tears ran down your visage as you repeated please over and over again. “I’ll do anything, just please let him go, he can’t breathe!” You babbled pleases as if it was the only words you know. 

Midoriya’s eyes lit up a maniac green seeing you gravel at his feet. God, you were so fucking pathetic. His cock twitched as you begged you were made to. 

"Anything?" He drawled out, not caring how Bakugou choked. It was only background noise to him.

"Yes, anything! Just please stop all of this, I'll do anything you say." There was clear desperation in your voice.

Midoriya let out a hum before answering and turning off the collar, "Call me Izu-chan again like you used when we were kids."

You tilt your head at the simple command. It was easy enough, you were about to reply then Bakugou gasps out, "Don’t do anything that sick bastard tells you to!"

Pure ire flashes on Midoriya’s face. He snarled as he looked at Bakugou’s quivering form trying to suck up oxygen and was about to press the button again until he hears your heavenly voice.

"I-Izu-chan, Izu-chan please don't!" You pulled yourself closer, so close that your breasts squished against his shins. You kept gaze up at Midoriya, trying to look innocent as possible to please him. Honestly, it was working because as you looked up at him with those teary eyes, he can’t help but notice how beautiful you look at his feet. Worshipping him as if he is a god. Midoriya reached down and cradled your cheek within his gloved palm. You closed your eyes and snuggled further into its warmth, trying to seem inconspicuous as you hear Bakugou start to stand. Pouting, you laid it on thick praying he kept his attention on you. "Don't hurt him! He-he's just being brash like usual. Please he doesn't know any better."

“You’re right,” Midoriya stared at you with adoration, but it fell when he locked gazes with the hero inches away from punching him in the face, “He doesn’t know any better.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened as he froze at how he was able to catch on so fast. He was about to send an explosion towards the villain when Midoriya kicks you further away from Bakugou and pressed the damn remote again. 

You could only whimper out a little, “Katsu,” that breaks his heart. He went toward you again but he felt that pain once again. He fell to the floor not too far from you. Body exhausted, he just collapsed to heap on the floor. The shocks were gone as fast as they came, but before he could even attempt to crawl to you, Midoriya straddles his back. He tries to buck him off but his arms were grabbed and harshly forced behind his back. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” Bakugou tried to say but the hand not holding his arms, pushed his head into the ground. He grunted when the side of his face hit the concrete, leaving him immobile. Midoriya adjusted himself so that he was now stranding the back of Bakugou’s thigh, spreading the hero’s leg. 

He giggledvwhile cruelly shoving his knee into Bakugou’s crotch, "Now if you are both done interrupting me, we can finally get this show on the road." 

A huff left Bakugou at the stimulation that grinded against his groin.

“What are doing you bastard!” Bakugou barked, slight desperation in his voice as his cock started to spring to life. Midoriya only ignored him as he pressed hard, reveling in the tiny groan that left Bakugou’s chest. “I said, what are you doing?” Bakugou squirmed more, but nothing happens.

Midoriya pressed his front into Bakugou’s back and whispered in his ear, “How does it feel to be the one pushed down. Not so fun is it?” 

“What is this? Some sort of fucking revenge fantasy, sicko?” Bakugou groaned, hating how his body was betraying him.

Humming, Midoriya kept his knee grinding into the hero. Bakugou tried to scramble away, not wanting you to see him so weak, but Midoriya got a lot stronger with age. An uncanny amount.

Against the small of his back, Bakugou felt how hard Midoriya was. The need to vomit built up in his throat. Shuffling himself, the villain put himself between his childhood friend’s hips. Through the thin material of his sweatpants, Midoriya’s length rubbed against the line of his ass.

Leaning down so his lips brushed against the hero’s ear, Midoriya’s breath stuttered. He had been waiting for this moment for so long. His tip leaked in the confides of his slacks, begging to sink into Bakugou or your heat. The way Bakugou struggled against him only added more stimulation.

Not wanting to get too ahead of himself, Midoriya opened to see you crawling to the shadows on the wall. Sighing into Bakugou’s ear, the man under him shuddered. Still grinding his cock into Bakugou’s withering hips, he pressed the remote to see go slack against the floor. Your whimper had Bakugou turn his focus to your writhing form.

“S-stop,” His words had a double meaning.

Giving one last harsh thrust that if there weren’t clothes between the two men, his cock would have surely breached the hero’s hole, Midoriya got up. He clicked off the eletricity and followed how drool foamed out your mouth.

“Get on the bed. Sit at the head and wait, if you don’t,” He waved the remote in front of Bakugou’s flustered face, “You know what will happen.” Midoriya pointed with his chin at your form.

As Midoriya pulled his weight and grip from Bakugou, he went to the bed as instructed. Heaven knew he wanted to knock the motherfucker out, but your life was on the line. Settling into the metal bars of the headboard, he watched Midoriya go to your pliant form.

Or so he thought.

When Midoriya bent down to grab you, you snapped your foot up and kicked him right in the nose.

“Shit!” He cradled his nose, tears flooding his sight.

Sprinting to Bakugou, you reached for him and prepared to barrel into the darkness. Falling onto the bed, Midoriya quickly recovered and pinned you underneath him. You screamed and clawed at the bedsheets. Kicking and squirmed, you did anything you could to get him off you.

Midoriya grabbed your head and smothered your face into the cushions.

“Don’t,” He bit. Not at you, but at Bakugou who got ready to fight. “I’ll fucking snap her neck and make you fuck her cooling corpse.”

Grinding his teeth, Bakugou could only watch as Midoriya maneuvered your thrashing form. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he placed your body across thighs so you were butt was perked up on his lap.

“Damn, I thought Bakugou would be the brat, not you.”

“Fuck you!” You screeched.

You were so sick of being antagonized by him. Adrenaline in your system had you acting out of character. Wrenching your arms behind your back, Midoriya ripped off your shorts and your panties. Terrified, you fought more, not liking where this was going. Before you could move more, a thundering slap burned in your bare bum. Screaming, you whipped your head to Midoriya.

Tears pierced your waterline. He- he just spanked you like you were a child.

His face stone-cold, he didn’t offer any comfort. Bringing his hand down again, your feet kicked pathetically at the sting. He hit the same place again. Sobbing, your head fell into the bed. The fight in you left as quick as it came.

Seeing you were more calm, Midoriya rubbed his large, calloused hand over your burning bum. “You done?”

Whimpering, you nodded your head.

Despite your form sagging, he doesn’t lift you up. If anything, his hand wandered until his fingers brushed against your slit. Gasping, your head sprung up to try and make eye contact with him. He ignored you to spread your legs and get more of a view of your cunt.

“S-stop it,” You begged.

Midoriya dipped into your hole to gather some of the wetness that unwillingly spilled from you.

“Why stop when your pussy is so wet for me?”

Swirling your clit, your legs twitched from the stimulation. Going back to your hole, he breached you with two fingers. You winced from the intrusion. Thrashing, you didn’t want someone to touching you there, especially for the first time.

Midoriya caught attention to your flinch, “Oh, are you a virgin?”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face when you sob, not stopping shoving his thick fingers further into you. Looking over at Bakugou, he isn’t ignorant to how the hero’s nostrils flared. “Aww poor Kacchan, you wanted to get to her first, didn’t you?”

“Die,” Bakugou snarled, but his eyes didn’t leave the fingers splitting you open.

Midoriya huffed a laugh, and leaned down to you, “I bet he would have made it real special. Too bad all he’s gonna get is my sloppy seconds.”

Ripping his fingers from you, you gasped at suddenly being empty. Licking your escense from his appendages, Midoriya forced you up. Roughtly, he ripped off your shirt so you were completely bare. Without care, he threw you down between Bakugou’s legs, a pillow below you. Getting behind you, he propped your hips up so you were face down and ass up.

Not giving two shits what Midoriya says, Bakugou gripped onto one of your hands as a small form of comfort. You clutched onto him, fear turning your tummy in tiny twists.

Midoriya unzipped his pants and brought them down to pull his cock from the tight cloth. Sighing in relief, Midoriya stoked himself with a few weak pumps. One his knees, he dragged himself closer to inspect both of your holes on display for him. With thumb, he ran it down from your ring of muscles over your hole and to your clit. Brushing it, he went back to your hole, he hooked his thumb inside and pried you apart.

A shuttering moan left at being exposed for his greedy eyes. Not caring you weren’t prepped enough, Midoriya brought his cockhead to your pussy.

“W-wait!” You begged, but he only bullied his way inside.

Only the tip was inside and you were being ripped apart. Bakugou gasped your hand tighter. More and more of your ex-childhood friend shoved himself inside. At halfway, he pulled out until it was just the head, and then slammed all the way to the hilt.

Screaming into the pillow, you cried as he tore his way into you. His balls slapped against your clit as he started a brutal pace. Your nipples chaffed against the rough texture of the bedding.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Midoriya moaned.

He didn’t hold back his noises. Fucking into you, he groaned and whimpered, loving to finally be inside you. He had waited for years to feel how warm you were. When he was still a hormonal teen, he would spend hours yanking his cock to the thought of tearing you open. Who was he kidding? Even well into his adults years, he still fucked himself to you.

And him getting to you before Bakugou was the cherry on top.

A petty, insecure him wanted to shout, ‘I win!’ right at the man in front him. But staring at him, as he silently seethed at watching you get fucked by the man he hated, was much sweeter.

Crowding you, Midoriya leaned down to groan in your ear, “Look at you. Your sloppy cunt molding just for my cock. You were made for me.”

His head leaned down further to suck the length of your neck. Kissing the nape, he harshly bit into it and you screamed at the piercing ache. Tilting his hips, he hit the spongy part in you, a moan finally leaving you. He kept abusing it as his hand went down to your clit. Instinctively, you spread yourself further for him. His cock stretching you past your limits had your brain fog up in pleasure. Mouth gape, you whimpered into the pillow.

Working you over, Midoriya didn’t stop his pace or how he twiddled your clit. Too fast for your liking, a tightness tugged in your lower stomach.

“N-no.”

Midoriya caught on to how you scrambled away from the pleasure, “Oh, are you- fuck- are you gonna cum?”

In denial, you shook your head.

Laughing at you, Midoriya didn’t stop, just kept going as he was. Pinching your clit, your legs spasmed. You bit your lip to hold off the orgasm, but it was too late.

With a pound into your g-spot, you moaned as you came all over the villain’s dick. Groaning, Midoriya’s hips stuttered, but he was far from completing with you. Licking your neck, he bit into your flesh.

The pleasure quickly turned into pain as he didn’t stop. “Stop, it h-hurts!”

“Good.”

Ramping up his thrusts, you screeched into the pillow. Clutching onto it with your free hand, Bakugou stroked your hair to help you work through the agony. Tilting your head up, you looked up at the hero with bleary eyes. Drooling dripped down from your lips for a different reason.

From your fucked out expression, Bakugou almost came just from that. He knew it was wrong, but his cock has never been harder. You looked so beautiful ruined. If only it was him splitting you apart until you were crying.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the next orgasm that threatened to rip through you. Midoriya’s thrust turned sloppy, he finally let up on your clit to focus on his own end. Gripping your hips, he forced them back to fuck you further on him.

You screeched and clenched around him when he bumped your cervix. At that, Midoriya stilled his hips. Cum shot out from him and deep in your cunt. He didn’t move until all of his cum spilled inside you. Your body hummed and twitched.

Sagging down, you were exhausted. Midoriya pulled out from you and you whimpered at being empty after being fucked open. Though, he didn’t leave you alone. His hand cupped your cunt, not letting any cum dribble out.

“Your turn,” Midoriya addressed Bakugou.

“What?” The hero asked stupidly.

“I did say you would get my sloppy seconds, didn’t I?” He tilted his head, mocking him. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Steeling his resolve, he agreed, “Fine.”

Like a puppet on strings, Midoriya pushed you onto Bakugou’s lap. Hand still cupped over you cunt, Bakugou tugged down his sweatpants and boxers. Sighing as his cock slapped against his clothed stomach, he grabbed your thigh to bring you closer.

With Midoriya’s help, you were positioned over his cock. Pressing against your back, you noticed he didn’t put his own away. Ignoring it, you locked gazes with Bakugou. He returned it.

Taking the reigns, Bakugou tugged you from Midoriya’s grip and he let him. Pulling his hand from your cunny, Bakugou replaced it with the blunt head of his cock. Cum spilled down to your thighs. Using it as lube and still stretched open, Bakugou slipped inside you with little resistance. He was a little bit bigger than Midoriya and thicker. Despite that, you didn’t wince as you sank down to the hilt.

Grasping you, Bakugou cradled your face. With little patience, he began thrusting inside you. Moaning, you didn’t stray away from his ruby eyes. Here, in this moment, you could pretend it’s just you two. Maybe the tension between you finally bubbled over and he took your virginity like you secretly wanted. And maybe, just maybe, Bakugou could take it like he longed for as much you did.

Matching his momentum, Bakugou brought his thumb over you parted lips. Dragging it across your bottom lip, he slipped his thumb inside. Moaning, you licked at the oddly sweet skin.

Midoriya cut into the moment, “Don’t you dare cum until I say so.”

Glancing at him, you see him sitting at the end of the bed, working himself back up slowly. His hand twisting over his length a lot slower than Bakugou’s thrusts.

Hooking his thumb on your bottom teeth, he brought your attention back to him. Eyes not straying from his, he let his hand slither down to hold your throat. The grip gentle. You sunk into his hold, it so much softer than you ever expected.

His other hand went to your neglected clit, circling it. Moaning for him. your thighs shook. Hands on his plush chest, you traveled down to grip his wrist. If he kept going, you would cum and you didn’t want to know what Midoriya would do.

Bakugou took at as encouragement and pressed further.

“I- I can’t!” You hiccupped.

Taking mercy on you, Midoriya said with a wavering voice, “Cum. Now.”

Not wasting a moment, Bakugou pushed you down onto the bed. Hand still on your throat, he hovered over you. In the tangle, his cock fell out, but he quickly fucked it back in you. Like a man starved, he slammed his dick in and out of you.

Groaning, you tilted your hips to encasing him inside you more. With his knees, he spread you further and went back to your bundle of nerves.

“You’re so pretty,” Bakugou leaned down, and bit right where Midoriya did before. He tried his best to cover all of that bastard with himself.

His sweet words had your vision swarm. Kicking your feet and curling your toes, his next bite did you in. Cumming with a loud moan right in his ear, Bakugou quickly followed. His cum mixed with Midoriya’s.

Flopping on top of you, he kissed where he bit you as an apology. Deep in you, his cock softened and fell out. Whimpering, you welcomed being empty once more. Your hips were battered and bruised.

“How cute,” Midoriya mocked.

From under Bakugou, you stared at the man who towered the both of you, still stroking his own cock. “I’m far from done with you two.”

Twisting his head to the villain, Bakugou sneered, “Fuck off. We did what you wanted.” He refused to move, covering your form with his to protect you.

The shorter male’s face dropped. “If both don’t get to work sucking my cock, I’ll shock you until you’re fucking stupid and nothing more than little fuck dolls.” Hand tight around the remote, you didn’t take his threat lightly.

Crawling out from under the hero, you went down on your knees on the cold concrete floors. The bones already ached. Glaring at Midoriya, Bakugou didn’t break eye contact as he got on his knees right next to you. It was comically how his form swallowed yours.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Midoriya had you two between his knees. Raising his brow in impatience, you leaned over to lick his cockhead. Bakugou copied you to focus on his balls. Sucking one of them in his mouth, Midoriya bucked up forcing you to take more of his length.

“S-so good,” With both hands, he gripped you and Bakugou’s hair.

Pulling off his cock, you kissed furthered down until you met with Bakugou’s mouth. Departing from Midoriya’s sack, Bakugou licked up until your mouths connected. Over his dick, you both made out, tongues brushing against each other.

Your moan vibrated against Midoriya causing him to shutter.

“For a virgin, you are a natural.”

Clenching your eyes closed, you tuned out his voice and went down to his balls. Taking your place, he went to Midoriya’s cock and took it all in one go. Leaning over you, your lids went half mast, watching Bakugou swallow the villain causing him to give a girlish moan.

Moving to his other ball, you gave it attention, sucking it your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it. Bakugou moved up and down his cock with expertise, smirking when Midoriya whimpered again.

“F-fuck!” He groaned and pulled you both off him.

Ripping his hand from the one in Bakugou’s hair, he stroked his cock and aimed it at you. With two pumps, he came all over your face. You flinched back as it almost hit your right eye.

Releasing you, he leaned forward as shame washed over you. Cum still spilled from your cunt. Being the only one covered in cum and naked, you felt dirty. This time, tears did pour over as you refused to make eye contact with the man above you.

Sensing your shame and pissed at being degraded, Bakugou glared at Midoriya. Hatred seeped from his pores.

Midoriya merely smirked. Tapping your collar, you were forced to look at him.

“It’s going to be so much fun completely breaking you two.”

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -CHAPTER 1-

Masterlist

Approximately 2,395 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Brief mention of self harm

A/n: This is a really self indulgent fanfic, it may have some common tropes and it will get very mature so MINORS DNI. I am making this a large slow burner because I am seriously falling in love with the setting and where the story is going. It may not be 10 chapters, it will likely be more. As with my other fics, I will finish this to completion and there will be varying amounts of illustrations for each chapter. I want to push the fact that this entire universe is headcanon. Having said all this, please enjoy. Fell free to leave a like, reblog, or comment if you're comfortable. Thank you for reading, I am so happy to be able to share my work with so many people who appreciate it.

Chapter 1

“Ma’am?”

You’re awoken from a pleasant nap by the voice of the taxi driver who picked you up from the airport.

“I hate to wake ya, but this here’s the end o’ the line fer me”

Slowly you sit up, the bright light of the sun shines into the backseat as the air conditioning gently breezes past your neck. You look out the window and are met with large swathes of yellow grass, dried up from being beaten by the sun’s intensive rays; The yellow of the grass is only contrasted by the bright azure blue of the sky, riddled with bright white fluffy clouds slowly lumbering across the horizon.

“S’good thing ya have such a small amount’a luggage huh?”

The cab driver popped the trunk and got out of the car to help grab your luggage, a small satchel of essentials and a suitcase of the last remains of the clothes you had left in Manitoba. You get out of the backseat and are immediately blasted with a wave of heat that weighs the air down.

“If you walk one mile up past this here gate, you’ll find the road getting’ ya t’yer home. I reckon no one’s been out here fer years. Ahm still not sure hwhat y’gone get up to”

You grab your belongings and thank the driver; he warns you to not take your time walking due to the intensity of the weather, then he gets in the cab and slowly drives off. You start walking past the open gate and toward the home that was left to you by a family member you barely knew. When you received the call from the lawyer dealing with the will, it was like a miracle, your business was tanking and you didn’t have much left financially. Being a seamstress in the town of Rivers was not easy, there was not enough work for you and the citizens didn’t have much to give for payment. Living there was lonely, your only friend passed away in high school because the stress of bullying got too much for her; since that incident, a deep hatred for humans remained in your heart.

You thought you had no more family left until the lawyer told you about your distant relative on mom’s side who had put you as the sole receiver to a fortune and the property. The only condition for getting access to the money was to come live on the property and care for the orchard attached to it. The lawyer informed you that your relative’s orchard had supplied the town and her written wish was for you to carry on its legacy. After living in a small town for all 33 years of your life you were excited to start fresh somewhere new, what better place to do that than Fuller, Texas which is virtually a ghost town.

The dirt road kicked up dust from your steps as you made your way to the first intersection, you took the turn and headed up the hill, the old driveway was overgrown with grass; You were grateful for the trees along the path, giving you shade from the sun, each one rustling in the gentle breeze occasionally dropping a leaf that would silently fall to the ground. Once you reached the top of the hill, you saw the house that was in the pictures the lawyer sent over, it was a small one storey house shining white in the sun. There were no trees around the front of the house but small bushes with wildflowers bloomed around it, your car was parked casually in front of the home next to a large moving crate full of the stuff you packed before you flew down. Having all your belongings and car shipped down early was a smart choice.

You made your way to the home, looking for the set of keys in your bag, the door opened with a creak and a distinct smell of old wood mixed with the ghosts of thousands of meals cooked wafted around you. The inside was quaint, all the electronics were dated but the décor was simple and rustic, this home felt cozy and welcoming as the sun pushed through the curtains leaving a gentle glow on the hardwood floor of the living room. You set your things down at the entrance and went to open every window to allow the stagnated air to circulate and cool the house before nighttime. You peered into the backyard, it was small but charming, there was a large tree that provided shade to the fenced area, and a white swing bench that had a bistro table set next to it. You walked out into the yard which was fenced by a weathered white picket fence, it overlooked the entire property. You walked up to the edge of the fence and noticed some binoculars set against one of the posts, you take them and use them to look around the land.

 You see a small home at the edge of the orchard -that must be the farmhand’s home, I should go let them know I am here and introduce myself-. You look further and see a large house in the distance, it has tall pillars in front and looks deteriorated; you slowly move the binoculars around to see the rest of that home, you find a barn and spot something large moving, you spin the binocular setting to zoom in further but struggle with the focus. After a short bit of fiddling, you manage to get a clear image and see that the moving shape was a man, a huge one, the man towers over the cow he is tending to, you squint your eyes to see if you can make out any details but all you can see is his long hair and that he has a face covering of some sort. You lower the binoculars and put your hands on your hips -who was that man? Is he really that tall? Maybe I should introduce myself to the neighbors as well-.

You spend an hour unpacking clothes and necessities from the moving crate, just enough to get you settled in, the furniture in the home still has some belongings from the passed relative that you need to clean out. After looking through the fridge and cupboards, you realize you don’t have anything to eat, and there’s no way you can get a delivery all the way out here, so you decide to take your car into town to see what’s available. The drive takes you along country road 26, you see nothing for a while and are almost startled when a small building shows up in the distance. You pull up and notice it’s a gas station and grocery store - I hope they have something I can eat in here-, you park in front of the entrance and go inside.

Everything in the store looks dusty and old, you feel a sense of unease at the prospect of going hungry tonight. You head to the register and see an older woman sitting on a stool reading a newspaper, she has white hair pinned up into a bun and thick reading glasses that look old enough to be from the 70s.

“Hi there” you say quietly

“Oh, I didn’t know someone had come in. Hi hun, how can I help you?” she places the newspaper down and stands up to greet you.

“I just moved into town and I realized I have no food for tonight, is there anything in here that can tide me over?”

“Welcome to Fuller! Let’s get you something to eat dear.” She looked surprised that you would even have to ask but she was happy to lead you over to some packaged goods and canned veggies.

“These here came in a few days ago with our latest shipment, don’t let the dust in here bother you none, I just haven’t had the energy to clean the place up better”

You smile and start grabbing some boxed oatmeal and canned vegetables, with these you would be able to eat for a day or two until you could to do a big shopping trip in the next town over.

You stop grabbing items and look over at her to say

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is Y/N. I moved into the property with the orchard”

You are interested now, and ask “You knew her? She was a distant relative to me and I actually inherited what she had, I feel bad about it because I didn’t know her at all, but I intend to keep the orchard going since that was her dying wish”

The woman’s eyes light up and she smiles, replying “Well now there’s a welcome surprise! My name is

Luda Mae, I’m your neighbor down the bottom of the hill, we did a lot of business with the previous owner, Tilly. She was a close friend of mine”

Luda Mae kept her smile but looked away as if she was starting to tear up, she spoke in a quieter tone “She was a real good friend, she felt like a sister to me. Did you know that without her starting that orchard, my folks would have” she stopped herself and paused looking around “Well let’s just say, she saved us”

Your interest in getting to know who Tilly was had spiked, the lawyer said she was well known to locals but never expanded on that. Luda Mae continues,

“Join me and my friend for tea tomorrow, I’d love to tell you all about Tilly, and that way you can meet my family as well, it’s always nice to have a friendly neighbor. I won’t take no for an answer”

You feel a bit of anxiety creep in, meeting new people was already difficult for you and what’s worse this was in a completely new place, so far out of your comfort zone. Luda Mae takes some of the items you grabbed and brings them to the counter and bags them. You follow her and place the rest of your things on the counter and say,

“What time did you want me to stop by?”

Luda Mae hands you the food and says “Just come on by ‘round noon, I’ve lots to talk about with you, there’ll be plenty of food too so that way these groceries will last a bit longer” She gives you a wink.

“That sounds really nice actually, what do I owe you for the groceries?”

“It’s on the house hun, let that be a welcome gift” she smiles and follows with “By the way dear, be careful around that farmhand, he’s a cruel old thing. Did you move with anyone? Maybe a husband or boyfriend?”

You feel a sense of worry at the thought of being alone on a property with someone mean, let alone a man who is cruel. You reply,

“No, I don’t have anyone, it’s just me”

Luda Mae suppresses a smirk, she follows you to the exit and opens the door for you saying “We’ll keep an eye out for you then, you’ll be alright dear, he’ll get what he’s owed one day”

Those last words really sparked fear in you, was the farmhand dangerous or just mean? It might be a good idea to introduce yourself in order to find out and possibly make a connection so you don’t seem rude. You put the groceries in the trunk and get in the car, Luda Mae waves to you as you pull out and head towards home.

Once you are home and the groceries were put away, you decide to go down to the orchard to see what kind of fruit are being grown. The trees are large and densely packed with fruits of all sorts, oranges, lemons, peaches, apples, and cherries. You are suddenly startled by a large, ugly man, he reeked of body odor and wore dirty overalls.

“Who the hell’re you?” he asks rudely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way. I’m Y/N I am the new owner of this property after Tilly passed”

The man looks angry, he rolls his eyes and pushes past you saying,

“Ah thought she din’t have no family” You scrunch your nose in confusion, he continues “You best keep outta muh way”

You follow after him saying “I just wanted to introduce myself so you know who I am”

He continues walking off “Don’t care” and disappears behind another row of trees.

You feel upset, you were already weary of people because of their bad behavior, and now you have a rude, smelly man controlling the orchard that you are unsure how to get rid of. You decide to pick some fruits to bring to Luda Mae tomorrow and head back up to the house. You put the fruits you picked in a basket you found and walk back out to the yard to relax on the swing bench. -I’m going to have to get used to that asshole until I can learn how to manage this farm myself. At least I don’t have to work anymore, so I will have plenty of time to learn-.

You get up and head over to where the binoculars sat, and used them to look over at Luda Mae’s property again to see if there is a designated front door. -Why did she ask if I had brought anyone? was she asking if I was single?- The thought lingered in your mind until you saw that enormous man again, this time he was holding a chicken and watching a small group of them peck at the ground. The chicken looked so tiny in his hands, and he held it so gently, giving it soft strokes along the back of its head. You stood still watching this strange man pet a hen for what felt like an hour, his face being covered was intriguing and his wide frame was a real sight to behold even if it was from afar.

You notice the sun beginning to set and decide it’s time to get inside and get some rest, the thought of possibly seeing that strange man up close danced in your mind and excited you for tomorrow’s visit. -I hope I get to meet him-.

Next chapter-

[elina-sakura]

Top Ten Favorite MDA Characters

Note: I am referring to both canon and fanon elements, and the ranking is not because of negative emotions but my feelings and preferences.

Major Spoilers for the entire game by the way

1. Yuma Kokohead

Of course, I love the little amnesiac ‘trainee’ full of anxiety. I just love anxious characters who have to struggle being the hero of the story in such dangerous situations. He just makes the perfect candidate for hurt/comfort stories. I love the relationships he has with the Nocturnal Detective Agency, I love how he wants to help everyone (even if he doesn’t have the best tact), and I love his angsty moments in his head (I love me some good angst). And when we learn of his true identity in the end, it really shines a light on his character more both outside and in-game. All of his flaws and the impacts to the story he made and the struggles he had. But most importantly the connections he made with others, the core part of the entire game and his character, is what makes me love him so much.

2. Yakou Furio

I don’t know why I’m so hyperfixated on this character. Maybe it’s because he’s the mentor character of the protagonist, and ended up giving me father-figure vibes to me with Yuma. Despite his flaws, he is such a good character who has been through so much, yet cares deeply for the people he loves and the city itself. And protect the detectives he took in, even with how much trouble they cause. But Chapter 4 and post-game is where I really start to appreciate him with his backstory revealed and how far he’s willing to go for the ones he love. Here’s to hoping he returns in post-game contents or hopefully sequels.

(NOTE: This is purely my preferences. I do not want to cause discourse or make people feel bad who ship Yuma and Yakou romantically; you guys do you with Yumakou and I’ll be happy with Yakou Fathero).

3. Makoto Kagutsuchi

Okay, this is where we really get to spoilers here since it happened post-game, but he became my favorite character right to the top three just because of who he is. An enigma who holds the secret of Kanai Ward, who created the mysteries in his hands, yet his motivations and heart was only filled with good intentions (despite having to make human meat buns). A young man who had to hold the secret for so long all on his own, try to fix many problems that weren’t actually his fault, finding purpose and his own identity outside of his original, and his relationship with Yuma as a whole. Complex, morally grey characters always catches my interests, especially when they are the antagonists.

4. Desuhiko Thunderbolt

I know, shocking. My favorite out of the four Master Detectives in the NDA is the perverted Superstar Detective, but when you look past the trope (and Chapter 2 and that one DLC scene as a whole) you would see there is a lot of depth to his character. He’s kind of the only one (confirmed so far) who had a pretty normal childhood and actually has relatable struggles a lot of people can probably relate to (being a shy and possibly bullied kid who wants to be a better version of themselves), who desires to be a Superstar and a detective at the same time and doesn’t want to be just one or the other, and is an all-around cool guy and loyal friend who could get along with people when he isn’t being a creep or overly obnoxious. It’s just too bad the writers seem to think the pervert trope would be a good way to add comedy when his obnoxious and goofball nature would probably be enough to get some comedy out of him. I want to hope maybe the writers would make Desuhiko less of a pervert in the future, but I’m not gonna get my hopes up. I just hope people can possibly see through the trope to see the real Superstar under the gross exterior (metaphorically-wise).

5. Kurumi Wendy

I’m honestly surprise she’s high on the list, but with how much I try to expand her character and how much fics I want to do with her, I’d say she definitely made it to the top five of the list. Kurumi is someone where I see a lot of potential in her character, but the writers ended up underutilizing her. She’s a high school informant who lost her grandfather to the overarching mystery, and her best friend a few months ago, and finds a special connection with Yuma and become one of his supporting partners alongside Shinigami. There’s a lot of potentials with her character, like seeing how the losses of important people in her life affected her, how she lives as a high school informant, and see her feelings on detectives and her relationship with Yuma, the new friend she feels a connection with and someone who gives her hope. But unfortunately, the writers end up making a bigger focus on making her the love interest of Yuma, and outside of that, make her an exposition dump. Heck, even in Chapter 5, I’m pretty sure Makoto only brought her with Yuma so she could tell him the informations needed to solve Kanai Ward’s Ultimate Secret, and discover that she and everyone else are Homunculi. It’s honestly sad because there’s so much to her character that could have made her stand out on her own, and I wish was utilized more.

6. Fubuki Clockford

Fubuki is such an adorable character and kind of relatable to me in being an airhead (though not to the extremes as she is). She’s kind and friendly to her peers, and is very imaginative as well when it comes to what she hears, like believing the sky is the ocean (if you look at it from an art perspective, it would be pretty cool). And especially her inner struggles on how she recognizes how slow-witted she is and how her time power leads her distraught when she’s not able to prevent the terrible outcomes she witnesses. Chapter 3 really shined a spotlight on her character, and one of the few spots that makes Chapter 3 worthwhile.

7. Halara Nightmare

Now this is a character I feel I have a lot in common with, specifically in real life. I tend to be rude and asocial (though only if I’m tired and overworked). I don’t like to be physically touched at all unless I give permission and told a head of times. I prefer to work alone when it comes to my work (in this case, my schoolwork). And I am definitely, sadly allergic to cats, especially since I feel connected with cats in personality at times. So I can relate to Halara in some aspects even though I sometimes am off-put by how harsh they are with Yuma in Chapter 1. I understand it’s because they want Yuma to figure things out for himself since he needs to quickly relearn things as a Detective and get to work on solving Kanai Ward’s Ultimate Secret (if anything, I commend them for putting in the effort to give some teaching to Yuma in some ways), and in hindsight they were working as an assistant to Yuma so they must have felt they shouldn’t have to do the job for Yuma (which I can’t blame). But sometimes they get a little too harsh and I just feel bad for Yuma.

8. Vivia Twilight

He is definitely an enigma of his own that interests me (though probably not as much as everyone else). A character who’s of his own agency and his own agendas and interests, and I love that kind of morally grey characters. Especially in Chapter 4 and the DLC where we got to know him more. And I enjoyed how he was a rival to Yuma for Chapter 4 who challenged the beliefs in discovering the truth, and that he was the only one who truly knew about Yuma and Shinigami. I honestly wish there were more interactions between the two after that. It really would have feel like their relationship would have been so unique and deep and interesting. And his relationship with Yakou really felt special after the DLC revealed their backstory together.

9. Shinigami

It’s usually kind of rare for me to like and be interested in mascot characters. And Shinigami surprisingly wins me over. At first, she definitely annoyed me with how she doesn’t exactly empathize with Yuma’s predicament sometimes and her callous nature with murderers sometimes (specifically in Chapter 2), but I can also understand that that’s her major flaw: lack of empathy. She’s a Death God whose natural job is to reap souls and uphold the concept of death. So of course, she’s not gonna understand whenever someone is stressed or feels empathy even with criminals. But that’s what make her character arc that leads to Chapter 4 all the more special. The previous murderers she reaped were those she barely got to know of, Yuma included, so it’s understandable to have a detachment with them, but the chapter 4 culprit was someone both she and Yuma knew, someone that really does make her understand his breakdown.

10. Pucci Lavmin

Pucci was one of my favorite Master Detectives I was looking forward to getting know. She’s a young woman (who may be close to Yuma’s age) who loves cute stuff like teddy bears, has sensitive hearing and gets snappy when too many people talk, and has a resting b!tch face. Seriously, I connect with her so much in these elements, and even thought she was going to be the female deuteragonist that we’ve seen/gotten from Danganronpa. So I was crushed when I learned she died and it was real and not a tutorial trick or something. It’s why she’s on the bottom of the list. She didn’t have as much screen time and development with her. Yes, including Kurumi, the real deuteragonist, who even though was underutilized at least had the groundwork for what kind of developments she could have had.

[qiaipia]

Somebody Tied You to an Ant Pile — miguel o’hara

ミ★ a Bullet fic on being in Highschool with a Miguel O’HottieHara

ミCONTENT: miguel o’hara x afab! reader. childhood friends to lovers. nerd/popular trope. messing around (r16). Inspired by blueastriz’s work on TT. 

read this as if i was a friend barging in ur inbox for a fic idea lmao. don’t take the formatting too srsly!

The cicadas rang their symphony in the hot summer air. It was time to part ways.

“You’ll text right?” An 11-year old Miguel O’Hara pouts, beside you on the swing. The sun was setting. A chapter was now closing.

You laugh, excited about the new adventure that came with moving homes, but you give him your biggest comforting smile. “Of course! You’re my best friend Miggy, we’ll even talk all night if you want to!” 

He pushes his glasses up his nose, pout still evident. 

You outstretch your hand, and he hands his over, interlacing each other. Stubby and sweaty children hands.

You gave his soft palms a gentle squeeze. “I promise. Nothing’s going to get in between us.” Your eyes beamed with hope.

Miguel gave a small smile and nods. “I’ll ask mama to buy me a phone.” 

- But that was 5 years ago and well, times have changed.

- But now you’re in Highschool as a popular kid!! 

- Mostly because you hung out with the mean girls 

- names? Stacy and Jane lmao 

- You though? you’re Nice, buuuutt you were also a bystander. Kid getting bullied? Not exactly your problem. 

- But when it mattered you spoke your mind and had a rbf so everyone stays away from your clique 

- You and Miguel go waaaayy back 

- Before you moved you were neighbors! 

- You and Miguel are childhood best friends 

- First grade at ur old school some bullies tied you and Miguel to an antpile

- You two were bonded ever since over red ant bites and swollen faces 

- Playing games together with the O’Hara brothers 

- Pulling stunts on his younger brother Gabri 

- Making messes everywhere

- And blaming Gabri lol 

- U guys were together EVERYDAY practically inseparable by the 6th grade. Never one without the other 

- Then you moved  u tried keeping contact but life kept u both busy, u guys just eventually stopped talking 

- Cue 10th grade! There is a new transfer student 

- U usually dont care, so u went a while without noticing this transferee 

- Then you saw someone getting picked on at lunch 

- U were studying the kid from afar - Jane saw u staring and teased u for it 

- Said his name was Miguel O’Hara. The newbie 

- “He’ll adapt soon enough.”

- DUH u remembered Miguel. He was ur grade school crush. And with his dorky glasses and thin frame, you STILL thought he was cute

- U wait for him out of his AP Science class 

- U creep behind him as he rummages through his locker and u shove him to get his attention 

- He was annoyed doe, “Ay mierda, you piece of shits took all my lunch money, I have nothing more-“ 

 - You grab hold of his shoulders and turn him around with the biggest grin on ur face lol 

- He is light as a feather and u were the same height lmao 

- He squints at you. “y/n?” 

- “Hola Miggy.” You laugh. 

- He is Shookt!! U went HERE?!?! 

 - U guys catch up going home, it was getting dark! U tease him abt the glasses, he teases u that ur a popular girl now 

- He is surprised,, to see u have such a big house now WOW ok 

- Ur family moved because ur dad got a better job offer and made much much more in the business

- U invite him in, he says his bro is waiting for him. U miss Gabri!! 

 - He is shookt when u say u have a pool PLS. U promise to invite him over next time

 - Gabri teases him ALL NIGHT LONG abt u, ur Miguel’s his gradeschool crush too, now he’s just happy to get back his friend 

- The next time someone bullies Miguel in front of u, its a jock who likes u, and u dont say much, so people are surprised u defend this nerdy new guy

- “Pick on someone your own size Archie. You get off hurting people smaller than you?” You call out from your seat on the table. 

 - Stacy backs you up. “Maybe he’s compensating for something.” She snickers. You make a puking sound. Everyone laughs.

 - Archie is embarrassed and leaves. 

- You flash Miguel a wink. He has to laugh. You stood up for him.

- Honestly, you guys don’t really interact at school. It was like teenage pride abt different social statuses and whatnot. You knew it would be bad for you and Miguel if you guys were seen together. 

- but u always wait for him on the days he has AP classes. 

- In return he walks you home. 

 - You both catch up. 

- Remember times like when you were both in grade-school, like the time his pants fell down while he was on the jungle gym. Or how you made a stupid amount of pastillas with him and had a sugar rush for days. 

- How your parents were now getting a divorce, and how yesterday he caught Gabri smoking Camels 

- Your girl friends have caught on. They wanna know the guy you were seeing. 

 - You had a stupid smile on your face all the time, of course it was a boy. 

- You couldn’t tell them of course, its social suicide 

- Once he came out of the AP Class early, you were confused 

- He said classes were cancelled 

- It was too early to go home, but it was too late to stay in school 

- He mentions that Gabri was at a friends house and that the house was empty 

- “Let’s get home before your mom does, yeah?” You say shakily, with a grin - You both obviously knew where this was going. 

- You both rushed to his house, nervous and clammy 

- “Is this your first time?” You ask with a nervous bite on your lips. “Yeah, yours?” He says, awkward fitting jeans doing nothing to hide pre-pubescent down there emotions. 

- “Mine too.” You mention nervously. “You’re shitting me.” 

 - “Don’t laugh!” You squeal throwing a pillow at him. 

- You didn’t know much about your body yet, and neither did Miguel, but his brown eyes were so captivating as he shuffled on top of you, sans glasses 

- It’s a normal thing now lol 

- Miguel actually ditches AP classes to mess around wit u 

- Esp with Gabri being out all the time 

- down bad fr 

- But it sort of goes like u need help also with homework after,, 

- So u learn??? because Miggy is such a smart cookie 

- U ACTUALLY LEARN 

- U learn each others bodies too atp so thats cute!! 

- It shows in ur grades lol 

- By then he is literally the only one ur messing around with 

 - But this one time: you both fall asleep after particularly tiring time alone 

- Sleep UNTIL DARK 

 - Conchata’s knock wakes u both tf UP 

- It’s impossible to hide u so u both settle for messily dressed and “We’re doing homework.” 

 - She doesn’t remember u at Miguel’s insistence lol 

- You awkwardly leave the house because she is NOT happy her son is bringing a girl home behind her back. Under the roof she pays for?!?! 

- “Do you even use protection mijo?” “…” “AY POR DIOS MIGUEL” 

- And well, now he gotta text his mom when u come over and Gabri gotta be there too 

- Gabri loves having u around, he geeks out with ur secret obsessions of comic books! It’s not really popular among your friend group, but you got really into it last year 

- Conchata doesn’t really approve of her son hanging out with a girl but “Ma I’m tutoring her.” And she rolls her eyes 

- You see it’s tense between mother and eldest son 

- You put a hand over Miguel’s after a harsh fight. “But you still love your mom don’t you?” 

- His eyes soften. 

- You have definitely pulled Miguel under the bleachers to make out once or twice 

- And you definitely have dragged him to empty supply closets lol 

- He’s down bad and a pretty girl just asked to blow him so is his 16 year old self gonna say no? 

 - Fuck no. 

 - You can’t keep ur hands to yourself lol 

- Plus you can see Miguel is slowly but sure changing. You gotta tiptoe now to kiss him WHAT 

- He also stares a LOT it gets you self conscious but he assures you your the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Followed by cupping your breasts and going “Have they always been this big?” Followed by you elbowing him 

- And who says sex ruins friendships?? It doesn’t! You and Miguel are closer than ever because of it 

- You know what does though? 

 - Love. 

- And you found that out when you cried yourself to sleep when Miguel said he was asked out by a girl to hang out in his AP Class 

- He said yes to her and he’ll hang out with you soon 

- But it’s always the same girl with him 

- Talking to him in class, during lunch, before, during and after AP Classes 

- Eventually he was halving his time with you and with her 

- They match well together, him and Xina Kwan. She was crazy smart and the same social status as him too. 

- She was sweet and smart and you have been avoiding Miguel like the plague in hopes it won’t wake up the vicious green monster 

- DAMN you were crying, mascara all over your face. 

 - It was the last day of school too urgh poor u. You wipe your tears as you wash you face on the school bathroom sink 

- Miguel had enough of u ignoring him tho so he walks up to you 

- While you were with ALL your popular friends around ur locker 

- And he asks if you wanted to walk home together 

 - He wasn’t really thinking, he just didn’t want u to avoid him anymore 

- You gave him a horrified look and ran away 

- And everyone laughed at poor heartbroken Miguel O’Hara

If this works out I’ll put out a fic for it. Hmu with thoughts!!

again, read this as if i was a friend barging in ur inbox for a fic idea lmao

[gildeddlily]

finally re-reading stormbringer, first post of a long list (30 photos limit go die) we stan the flags

I read stormbringer this summer, and it was something (it destroyed me and made Chuuya became my favourite character of all bsd- more than anyone else (like sigma, he's my fav in the decay of angels arc), chuuya solos everyone and you know it shut up)

so, like I did with fifteen I feel the urge to share everything cause yeah we all need to suffer more

1. We Stan The Flags

This always makes me laugh, cause Chuuya's like "yeah, it's probably the shadiest and most dangerous role I could have as a non-executive, what's so important ab it? It's cool guys I'm not better than you all" (imposter syndrome sir)

I love Pianoman. I just- I love the Flags, and I will always fantasize ab a world where they're still alive. and them bullying chuuya is my favourite trope alr.

and i just know that in a no powers au chuuya would have been the kind of teenager to befriends people older than him like ten years age gap, cause people his age just weren't for him (in an healthy way guys)

try to not think ab chuuya's inability to accept gifts and love, and just some of the most powerful men in the mafia being excited ab a silly guy (silly chuuya who's stronger than half of them(gotta write chuuya and iceman first meeting))

the... the fruitiness of this sentence is menacing so I'm gonna- just yk

the au where Chuuya takes Lippman place ad the mafia's contact with the light is so beautiful and sad. and that fic where he takes chuuya on set I'm crying stop it

canon chuuya is so mean. Like not mean, just harsh. a lot of people only sees him as someone who gets mad at Dazai and is a peace of cake with everyone else- like no? he send to hell every person he talks to and goes on with "wanna know the power of gravity" every two seconds. he's just chuuya, gotta accept him as our little mass murder with anger issues that needs to be controlled cause the Mafia boss is afraid he's gonna die if he doesn't <333

and this is so beautiful in a way. he always talks ab killing dazai and dazai doesn't help with that, only giving him more reasons to do so, and same with the flag. anger issues maybe, but is he really angry with dazai and the others? we see him really mad, and it is not a pretty thing to watch- and they all know what mad chuuya really looks like and just know when he's yes angry but not really. everyone is ready to fight, and are relieved when things dont escalate (they love chuuya so much stop please)

they comfort him in a way that is heartwarming. they don't offer him useless words or things like "don't worry you have a past and you're human", they don't beat around the bush. Pianoman's like "hey, we know you don't know if you're human, and I'm gonna be super harsh ab it cause we're in the mafia and all of that but listen kid, here we are ab to solve your existential crisis"

even Iceman, the cold blooded hitman who almost killed chuuya a couple of times and was ab to try it five minutes before this, is fucking smiling. they're so happy to help him it hurts (just know iceman called him kid at least some times. he's the real big brother and I just know it)

yes, this is the first time chuuya has real friends- not kids he has to look after and protect without receiving gratitude but just a "it's the least you can do" attitude, not whatever-the-fuck-is-going-on with dazai, just friends. they spend time sìtogether, they give eachother gifts. they're kind with eachother in the ways the know how

an chuuya doesn't know what to do, cause he has never had this type of relationship with anyone, the "give-receive" mechanism that every relationship should have. he doesn't know what to do, and I need to hug him

and then the gag we needed and something I need to draw (Pianoman definitely is the tired mom. Iceman is the dad cause yeah who other. Chuuya and Albatross the sons, Doc the gay emo cousin (what do you mean you wish to be carried by Adam sir) and Lippman the sassy aunt. just see it)

he kind of is sir (he's fucking sixteen just kill me)

something I love ab him is the fact that he's emotionally constipated but like one of the less serious one. he knows that he can be easy to read since he's very open ab his emotions (even if they understand he could just kill everyone, so), but can be serious in a way a teenager shouldn't be able to. he chooses to be so open with dazai, the flags and the people he cares about. the trust king fr

they all know he's gonna come back (and that he's crying) cause he probably wanted them to, or he would have reacted worse to getting understood so easily

and this is the trope asagiri give us so many times and the best one in the history of tropes. bad scary guys having fun with some other bad scary guys and enjoying their time together like normal people.

...kafka, my love, stop it. you were doing do good

[theangiediary]

happy wincest wednesday!! what's your favorite post-s5 wincest scene?

why would you ask me, a kripke blog, this

Kidding lol. But I will go a bit unconventional! I actually love that SPN takes 🌹Romantic Tropes🌹 and uses them for brothers, so a lot of the Iconic Wincest Moments I prefer just as they are. <- edit: this might be a vocab interpretation thing: I use "samdean" as like, their canonical relationship and "wincest" for Sam + Dean + sex

Anyway I like fics/scenarios where they're just hunting on the road, no Big Bad, no interpersonal fighting, living outside society.. and fucking.

7x12 Time After Time is a great episode for this.

Starts off with Dean angsting/watching Sam sleep. Testament to their comfort with each other.

"Don't give me that dirty-diaper look." Baby brother🥺.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this but I hope you're watching cartoon smut." WEIRD SAM.

"Special Agent Smith. This is, uh, Special Agent Smith. No relation." Canon putting in 0 effort and letting them get away with shit like this does relieve me as a fan from worrying about some details, which I appreciate.

"What, are you gonna look up more anime, or are you strictly into Dick now?" Bully your brother with sexual jokes: Round 2!

The little security camera exchange: Dean getting to show off... for exactly 0.2 seconds. I love when Sam's mean <3

They're separate for most of the rest of the episode, and while they are ORANGE, Sam has nearly unforgivable sideburns, and Dean's written a bit too goofy for my tastes (come on, Ness obviously hasn't seen the movie stop quoting it at him), he also has moments of heroism (willing to be stuck in 1944), charm (kiss from Erza), and of course, the Connection he has with Sam is what saves the day. Writing him a letter that he leaves exactly where Sam will find it reminds me of the The Usual Suspects. <- this is the single scene I would chose, for the ask

Actually, the whole Sam/Jody + Dean/Erza/Ness parallel montage is quite nice. For all those boys' differences, they were raised together, think in much the same way.

It's just... Brothers. Not soulmates, not freaks. Arguably either one of them could leave the life (no big Chosen One plot), and if they're really that pressed to Save People... idk volunteer or go into nursing or something. But they're choosing to be together. They like each other.

And, it's a deleted scene, but the "Jealousy is a bad color on you bro"... yeah. They're fucking.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

The Kingdom of Yerffej

Summary: You’re a knight of the kingdom, Natasha is the Princess, and Jeff is the unexpected visitor you can’t help but love

Word Count: 4326

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Bullies try to hurt Jeff 😔

A/N: A while ago, @natsfirecat posted a Jeff fic based on a challenge set by @wolferine ​ to include every trope she’d labelled as S-tier. Since I was also challenged, here’s a fic that includes Humour, Fluff, Gen, Hurt + comfort, Mutual Pining, Friends to lovers, and as a Royal AU :)

Also I’m in exam season so I stayed up way too late doing this after I finished studying✌️ excuse any errors. It is also heavily based on Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword because I love that game.

—————————————————

Yerffej was a peaceful place. The small settlement had been founded lifetimes ago when the ancient people, let by the Romanoffs, had sought refuge from attackers, and the mountain cluster that would go on to become the Yerffej was the only place where the attackers did not follow. The present-day King was still a Romanoff. His ancestors had founded the kingdom, build houses for the other refugees, and built bridges between the mountain peaks, providing easy connections to all parts of the kingdom. They were a respected dynasty, responsible for the integration of the community and the prosperity of the land; but they were also known for their benevolence to the citizens, and never regarded themselves as above their subjects.

For that reason, the King decided against a tutor for his only child, Natasha Romanoff, although he could afford it. Instead, he sent her to the Academy, a free school he had founded for any child in the kingdom to attend. It taught the basic skills, such as maths, writing, and reading, but it also provided extra classes for students to specialise in, giving them a chance to become proficient in a skill of their choosing. 

Princess Natasha was in your year, and you had bonded the moment you had met, much to your parents’ shock. She was perfect in every way, and the whole kingdom wanted to get to know her, yet in the very first class, back when you were both 4 years old, she had chosen to sit next to you. You talked a lot, telling each other your favourite colours, the names of your favourite toys, and a little bit about your families, though that was of little importance compared to talks of stuffed toys.

She had sat next to you in the next class, and you talked some more. And then it happened again, and again, and again, until years had passed and it became rare to see one of you without the other. 

Of course, at the end of school she would return home to her palace, and you to your very much not-palace home, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to have sleepovers at the others’ house. When she stayed at yours, she never commented on how different it was; she treated your parents with kindness and politely accepted whatever food they offered her. 

The King always prided himself on being equal to his subjects, putting in a lot of effort to make sure his daughter felt the same. Despite being a ruler, it was clear that he did not see himself as above his people, and so he welcomed you happily into his house, as just his daughter’s friend, and you built up a good relationship over the years. He tried to keep the two of you entertained when you visited and, as king, he had access to plenty of activities. The Royal Guard in particular spent a lot of time babysitting you and Natasha, letting you watch them spar and even letting you handle some of their wooden practice swords, very slowly taking you through the basics of sword-wielding. 

It was that relationship that influenced your decision when you came of age to pick your specialist class, joining the knights. It was the first time you and Natasha would be separated at school, as she had to take a class on royal etiquette and history instead. Though you still had the other classes together, some of the students began to exploit the fact that she wasn’t by your side. On top of her royal status, they had begun to see her beauty, and they were jealous of how close the two of you were.

They couldn’t attack the Princess, nor attack you in front of her, knowing she would defend you; so they waited until you were alone. Plus, a class on fighting was the perfect time for them to get away with it. No matter how little they paid attention in their other classes, the bullies were smart enough to know the head knights were fond of you, and that attacking you outright would end badly for them. Instead, they resorted to hitting harder than necessary, or faster than you could dodge, managing to knock you back and leave bruises and cuts, before stepping away as soon as the trainers got close.

Natasha noticed your injuries of course, and it wasn’t difficult for her to work out the cause of them, but you shrugged them off as accidents and dangers of your field of study. She’d tut at you for getting injured, and likely for lying about it, but never confronted the bullies themselves since you so clearly didn’t want interference. Instead, she’d patch up the wounds, and do her best to make them better, before warning you to be more careful next time. The cycle lasted for years, but it helped you to become a better fighter, learning to dodge or defend against their attacks as the years went by, and making you top of the class at graduation.

There was a long ceremony, with the King praising the year’s cohort of new soldiers, before congratulating you all individually. You got a few days off after that to celebrate; at home, in the city, and even at the palace with Natasha and her father, before you were set to work. The knights filled several roles around the kingdom, from helping civilians, to guarding the walls. And for the experienced ones, guarding the palace and training new knights. You had to work your way up to that though, so your role, for now, was simply to stand by the kingdom walls, just in the viewpoint of the guards on either side, and keep an eye out for anyone who may be trying to sneak into the kingdom.

With the height of the kingdom and the steep mountains that had to be climbed to reach it, there was rarely ever a cause to call the alarm, certainly, nobody had made the trek in all the years you had been alive. Which is why it was the job given to rookie knights only; it provided adequate training without the risk of failure… plus it was too boring for any senior knight to want to participate in.

But, somehow, nothing boring ever happened in your life. The first day of your new role and somehow something showed up right by your section of the gate. Great. 

The previous year’s cohort had taken you through the rules of procedure, though admittedly with little vigour or care, since the expectation was that it would be as uneventful a year as always. You were to stop the passer-by and ask for their business; if they wished to enter the kingdom, you would escort them in and towards the palace, informing the other guards to watch out for your place. If they had no desire to enter the kingdom, then you were to redirect them and inform them of the simpler routes down the mountain.

This, however, was not something you could easily interrogate. You watched the small silvery creature scrabble over the final ridge and enter your view. It seemed a little too early into the job for you to be having hallucinations, so you squinted in the hopes of gaining more details. The smooth, spherical body was shaped much like a dog, stout and close to the ground, with four little legs. The small being also had a protrusion on its back, and a tail split in two, much like the fish you had seen in the palace pond, but much larger and far less fragile looking. 

The creature startled when it saw you, much like you did upon seeing it, but then slowly approached, tail wagging side to side. You kept a hand on the hilt of your sword, just in case the animal was violent, though you hesitated to draw it. Something in the way it looked made you trust it and put your bets on it being friendly. This was further reinforced when it flopped into a seated position right in front of you, opening its mouth wide and letting its tongue loll out the side. Rows of sharp, jagged teeth should have set you back on guard, but it was such a genuine smile that you took your hand off of your sword instead.

You crouched down, against all better judgement, and found yourself face to face with the being. “Hello there”

It said nothing. You took a look to your sides, glad to see that neither of them had looked in your direction, nor caught sight that you were talking to this animal. “Ummm… what’s the purpose of your visit?”

“Mrrr”

The small purr was unexpected, but then you broke into a smile. If this was the first day, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a boring year after all. “Oh, you’re here for mrrr are you?” you joked. 

The animal huffed in reply. 

“Not a fan of that joke, huh?”

“Mrrr.”

“Okay, how about you stay here until the night guard switches in, then I’ll bring you to meet the Princess, she’ll love to meet you.”

“Mrrr,” it nodded, confusing you, could it actually understand what you were saying? It seemed to. It stood up, turned around, and then sat down again; this time sitting up straight and facing the same direction as you as if it were an active guard on duty.

You kept talking to it, though not understanding any of its responses, but it passed the time and finally you could switch. You bundled the creature into your bag before your replacement came out, and carried it past the kingdom walls, heading straight for the palace. 

The guards weren’t at all surprised to see you, letting you through without any checks and telling you that Natasha was in her room.

You practically ran upstairs (though you had to slow down after some indignant ‘mrrr’s sounded from your bag) and rapped quickly on her door. 

“Come in”

“Hi Natasha,” you gasped

“Y/N! How was your first day?”

“I want you to see this, I met it outside the castle walls,” you explained, already shrugging the bag off of your shoulder and tipping it onto her bed, the creature inelegantly tumbling out.

“What is this? He’s beautiful” Natasha said, leaning closer to inspect it. The animal preened at the praise, showing itself off for the Princess. Yup, it definitely understood you all. “Is it a he? I just assumed but I don’t know” she continued.

“Um, I’m not sure, I’ve never seen anything like it before, does it even have gender?”

“Mmmm” it nodded

“You do?”

“The animal has a perception of gender?” Natasha whispered, and you turned to see her writing her observation down. She loved to gain as much knowledge as she could, about the nature within the kingdom, the history, and the culture of it all. There were many times where you could just sit in the gardens with her for hours and listen to her explain each flower, or tree, or insect in detail. It was far more information than you could even retain.

“Mrrr!” drew your attention away from Natasha and back towards the creature, who was tilting its head quickly between the two of you. Natasha cleared her throat, and looked back at the creature, having had her attention drift to you at some point. You hoped she hadn’t caught your staring.

“So is saying ‘he’ okay?”

“Mrrr,” he nodded.

“Well, that’s settled then, unless there’s anything else?” He shook his head. “Do you have a name for it?”

“I was thinking Jeffrey”

“You took the name of the kingdom and spelt it backwards? And that’s what you’re naming this?”

“It’s as good a name as any,” you shrugged. 

“Fine, but how about we shorten it, like Jeff?”

“Mrrrr”

“I think that’s a vote for Jeff. From Jeff.”

“Jeff it is.”

You decided to take Jeff on a tour of the kingdom, since he seemed set on staying with the two of you, venturing out until town with Natasha, and the small creature between you. You tried to explain the landmarks and help it learn its way around. But it was to little avail as it focused on the ground, hopping from stone to stone to avoid the cracks. 

After a while it was clear nothing was getting through to him, so you made yourself content to just walk alongside Natasha, listening to her talk through all she had learnt in her classes since you'd last asked. She would often go on tangents upon seeing certain buildings, explaining their history and the significance of their placement. You tried not to interrupt, save for occasionally wrangling Jeff back to your side, but other people had different ideas. 

Realistically, you shouldn't have brought Jeff past the walls, since you had no idea what kind of threat he might have posed, nor did you have any idea what his motives might have been. But you trusted him, and you'd also seen him fall headfirst into the lake, too entranced by the fish to realise how far over the bridge he was tilting. You decided, while wading out of the lake with dripping armour and a slippery creature who wanted to get back into the water on your shoulder, that Jeff did not have any ulterior motives, his focus did not seem to extend far enough to have them. 

But when your newly knighted classmates saw him, that was not the exact line of thought they had. They saw him as a threat instead, and a way to win Princess Natasha's heart. 

Brock was the first to draw his sword, pointing it directly at your newly acquired friend, but his friends soon followed suit. Jeff wasn't looking in their direction at all, but by stepping in front of him you gained his attention, and he noticed the predicament. He let out a small yelp, and when you turned to look behind your legs, he had curled inwards, trembling. 

"Leave him alone Brock," Natasha said firmly, simultaneously stepping forward and putting her hand atop yours, stopping you from unsheathing your own sword. 

"Princess," he grinned, quickly running a hand through his hair to (unsuccessfully) smooth it down. "You don't know what that thing is. Y/L/N brought it in from the outside, you don't even know how it got up here" 

"And do you?" she questioned back without wasting any time, "no. So leave us alone and continue on our way"

"I'm just looking out for you, Princess" 

"I'll be fine. If I need anything, I already have Y/N here, so your presence and concern are unnecessary" 

At the mere mention of your name, you were met with a glare from every member of the trip, as if they had forgotten you were there and were just now remembering that they hated you. 

"Let's keep going Y/N" Natasha grimaced, pacing off and expecting you to follow behind, which of course you did, but only after you scooped Jeff up and let him bare his teeth at your bullies. 

"I don't understand why they're allowed to be knights" Natasha huffed

"because they fight well?" 

"but they're not nice people. They're the ones who bully you, are they not?" 

"they are" 

"Then they shouldn't have been allowed to pass" 

"Princess-" 

"I also didn't like them calling me princess"

"I'm sorry" 

"No, I don't mind when you- I only like it when you call me Princess. The way they said it was different."

"It's your title Nat, it's what they're supposed to call you for respect" 

"Then why did it not sound respectful? I could probably get them kicked off" 

"Tasha, it's alright. In case one day we ever do get attacked, we need them, they're good at what they do. So you have to put the kingdom's needs above your feelings about them" 

She dipped her head towards the ground, and you watched as a smile began to spread on her face, "you sound like my teachers," she giggled, "are you sure you haven't been going to my classes instead?" 

"Well, you would have seen me there surely? Unless you've been going to my knight classes?!" you laughed back. 

"Well maybe I have," she said smugly. Then, quickly, she grasped the sword from your side and ran off, laughing as she went. "Then I suppose I'll have to show you the skills I've picked up" 

Jeff turned around from where he had been sniffing in the bushes and, upon seeing Natasha, burst into a run after her. 

"You shouldn't run with that!" you yelled half-heartedly, not that she paid you much mind. Then you gave in, doing what she'd goaded you into and chasing after her to wrestle it back. 

—

It was another few days before the bullies dared approach you again. This time when Natasha was elsewhere. You still had Jeff though; the creature had been following you non-stop and keeping you company as you worked. He was a nice addition to your life. 

But it was while you were on guard that they attacked, leaving their own posts to come and corner you. 

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N, and with the beast too, how lovely" 

"What do you want, Rumlow?" 

"Ooh, you're talking mighty tough, bold words when you don't have your precious Natasha here to defend you" 

"Don't worry," one of his lackeys said, "we want nothing from you. But that- that is a threat" he finished, pointing at Jeff. 

"Jeff isn't a threat to anyone" 

"You think his teeth will never cause harm? That this abomination is completely innocent? how about we test that theory?" 

"Don't you dare touch him" 

"Or what? what're you gonna do?" 

Your answer did not come in the form of words. It came as a punch to Rumlow's face, making him stumble back into the others.

"Fine, if that's how you want to do it." 

You knew you were in serious trouble, with the three of them teaming up against you and nobody else around to witness it. You held off as best you could, dodging their punches, but with three of them around you, there were only so many attacks you could avoid before they started to wear you down. Despite a few good punches against them, you were getting hit more and more frequently, each punch sending you closer to curling up fully on the floor. You were winded and in pain, only to get worse when you heard the 'shink' of metal being drawn, and caught a glint of a dagger. 

"Oh, now that's not fair" you groaned, right before it became embedded in your shoulder. 

Jeff had been holding back, growling and snapping at the bullies, but never attacking, so they paid him no mind. Your collapse onto the floor beside him changed that, and suddenly he lunged, nipping lightly enough to cause pain, but nothing to cause long-lasting injuries. 

It did its job, and soon the bullies were scurrying away, claiming 'that was the plan after all'. 

It might have repercussions for Jeff if they showed off their injuries, but that was the last thing on your mind at that point. Your injuries would get them into far more trouble than Jeff. 

The creature himself whined, nudging at your side. You winced as he came into contact with the cut and he jumped back, stared at you for a second, and then ran from you, as quickly as his legs could carry. 

"Great, " you sighed. All alone, bleeding and in pain, and even your loyal Jeff had disappeared. Your injuries were critical, just painful, so you sat back against the wall and hoped nothing more would happen until the end of your shift. 

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) your hope did not go fulfilled, as Jeff returned, with Natasha in his wake. She rushed to your side in an instant, checking the injuries on your body and mumbling about the many things she was going to do the next time she saw the bullies. Jeff, meanwhile, circled the pair of you, tail wagging proudly at accomplishing his mission. 

"I'm fine," you reassured Natasha, but she was having none of it. 

"No you're not, and no matter how good at fighting they are, there is no place for them in the Royal guard, and that is my decision."

"It's your father's actually" 

"He'll agree when he sees the state of you. Now keep still, I need to patch you up." 

You nodded, but Jeff settled beside you shortly after, and you couldn't help but pat his head, stretching the skin which had been torn by the blade in the process. 

"I said stay still! I swear sometimes you're so stubborn" 

"And yet you still love me" you teased with a grin. Though she did not match the energy. Her eyes immediately averted to the ground, and her hands faltered midway through applying the bandages. 

"Natasha, are you okay? I meant love, like, platonically, that's okay right?" 

She sighed again, biting her lip as if about to speak, so you waited. Until finally she spoke, at a volume just louder than a whisper. "And what if I mean it in a non-platonic way?" 

"Then that would be cool" 

Her stiffness dropped in an instant, returning to the 'are you serious right now?' demeanour you were so, so used to seeing. "That would be cool? really Y/N?" she sighed, "I'm baring my heart to you and-" 

"Just try it" you interrupted, "say the- if you really mean it- say the thing again. Properly this time" 

"Alright, fine," she muttered. Then cleared her throat, "I love you Y/N, in a non-platonic way" 

"and I love you too Natasha" 

"you do? you're not just saying that to make me less embarrassed?" 

"Of course I love you, Nat, I have for years. I loved you as a friend but you're so effortlessly kind and beautiful, you patch me up whenever I get hurt and never retaliate purely because I ask you not to, even though I know you would love to. And when you talk, god, I could listen to you for hours. How could I not love you? non-platonically." 

"You really didn't have up specify non-platonically at the end of that"

"Just thought I'd make it extra clear" 

She smiled at you, the whole world seemed to pause as she did so. Like there was no one but you and her. 

… And your shared Jeff, who used the opportunity to walk directly in front of you. He was bored of the conversation and decided to ruin the mood instead.

"Let's get you to the Palace, I'm sure another guard can come to take your place early. But you should rest properly and… maybe we could discuss this some more?" 

"I'd like that," you smiled. She hoisted you up, supporting a lot of your weight as you hobbled your way back into the kingdom, then up the stairs of the Palace so Natasha could lay you down on her bed. 

"So about this whole love thing…" you began, "are we dating now?" 

"I'd like to try it, if-if you're okay with it too?" 

"Yeah. I'm more than okay with it."

"Then can I kiss you then?" 

"Please do" 

And she did. It was inexperienced, neither of you ever having had partners before, but to do it with her made it feel like no other kiss could top it. You wanted to keep kissing her forever, but a knock at the door had you quickly pulling away and acting as if nothing had happened. 

"Come in," Natasha called, trying to sound as casual as she could. The king opened the door as soon as he had his daughter's permission, peeking his head in. 

"I just wanted to check on Y/N, I heard you got hurt. But uhhh, it seems like you finally got together, congratulations on that." 

Your face heated up instantly; you could only assume it looked the same as Natasha's blushed cheeks, if not worse. It felt worse. 

"How did you-" Natasha asked, 

"Finally?" you also said. 

"I know you two well, your faces gave it away. And yes, finally, your parents and I have been wondering when it would happen, Y/N, I'm sure they'll be delighted by the news."

"You talk about-" 

"Your love life is not often a topic of conversation, don't worry" he reassured, "but with how many lovesick whines I've heard from Natasha about you, I thought I'd bring it up with them, just to find out that they hear the same from you." 

If you thought your face was red before it was nothing compared to how it felt now. You felt like your face alone could provide lighting for the whole kingdom, but at least you weren't alone, knowing Natasha had felt the same about you all along. 

"I'll leave you two and your embarrassment be. But one more note, Yerffej is no longer in need of a kingdom animal. I have designated it as the land shark now, with repercussions from the crown if anyone causes harm or distress to one."

"Oh that's excellent" Natasha grinned, "but what is a land shark?" 

"It's a being I found reference to in some old nature books from the library, the ones that predate our arrival in these mountains. It is said to be a sign of good luck if you see one, and even better fortunes if you are the person whom it chooses to follow… and I believe your friend Jeff is the perfect example."

Jeff squealed, excited at the recognition of his species. He ran up to the King, then around the room, even leaping up onto the bed with you at one point. 

Looking between him and your new girlfriend, it certainly seemed like good things had already begun.

—————————————————

Jeff taglist: @unexpected-character (send an ask or mention it in the comments if you want to be added)

[autumnslance]

People who dont like Hildibrand because all they see is a muscular man in a dress kill me.

I’m not even addressing those who just can’t handle a socially manly man in a socially feminine dress due to their own issues; I’ma use this to discuss a different angle on the problem some players have had with Hildi’s “disguises.”

Crossdressing is an old comedy trope in a lot of places; it's also not uncommon in detective/inspector stories when the investigator needs to get near their mark or protect a target.

In its checkered history crossdressing has been used in fiction as a celebration, as a commentary, and as a way to make fun of gender non-conforming (gnc) and trans folks. That last point is what makes some uncomfortable to upset at the Hildi quests. Especially if they've faced issues for their own gender presentation.

Hildibrand isn't the only one in the quests who dresses up as another gender; the culprits in the ARR present as an apparent male thief, and it's not until the end we learn that it's a scheme by two sisters, one of them taking on the role of the masked bandit. They take on flawless disguises of other male characters throughout the chain as well. The villain is treated seriously, and the male disguises are not commented on or treated as unusual. Their actual mastery is contrasted against Hildibrand's amateur foolishness.

For those who enjoy the quests, we're seeing a case of the story poking fun at Hildibrand specifically; he thinks he's pulled off a flawless disguise when everyone can tell it's him. His goal in dressing up as the bride in ARR is to get close to the assumed culprit and protect the maiden being targeted. There are no real judgemental comments in story** about Hildi dressing as a woman, the issue is he's trying to pretend to be a specific person and he's obviously not her. Hildibrand has the best of intentions, but his execution is terrible because he's an idiot.

Which is where the comedy is meant to come in (and he's actually in no hurry to remove the dress and make-up, he's quite comfortable).

In Stormblood, Nashu's already been dolled up to get into the room and close to their target, but Hildi also dons the geiko disguise to perform as a distraction and cuz he just likes dressing up and putting on the makeup (that he keeps on even after getting back in his suit). And again, thinks he's helping when his antics make things worse, because that's the comedy routine; he wasn't supposed to be there and believes he's fooling everyone.

(He does kinda fool Jim, maybe, but there's a lot of other things going on there and y'know, I've never searched for specific ship fics that I wouldn't be surprised exist somewhere...)

But for some folks, seeing a man crossdress for any reason in a comedy story is uncomfortable. Especially since for so long in media, comedy was one of the only times crossdressing could be seen; sometimes as celebration, more times as bullying.

When asked at a FanFest panel about adding more queer representation and releasing the gender locks on glamour items (which it was obvious many fans wanted), Yoshi-P mentioned having to be very careful due to how so many social reactions and censors are against it. He told a story of seeing an adolescent that seemed to be wearing clothes not socially matching their apparent physical gender--and also seeing a mother pull her child away and block their view while making a nasty face. Yoshida said he felt heartbreak for the teenager, seeing how they were treated just for expressing themselves. That's the society we live in around the world.

So is the Hildibrand quest making fun of gnc/trans folks? I don't think so myself, as the focus of the comedy is Hildibrand's own foolishness. The ARR villain is treated seriously and without comment or denigration, their competence compared to Hildibrand's incompetence.

I don't believe there is a moral issue present; it's a matter of perception and taste, and comedy is extremely subjective and not always going to land. The Hildi quests already aren't for everyone--heck, slapstick at all isn't usually my preference, but Hildibrand's own heart and sincerity underlying the goofy idiocy won me over. And I found the quests at a rough time when I needed a laugh badly. But for other folks, that's going to hit different, when what's supposed to be a silly quest throws something they don't find funny at them.

Like my irritation at the lalafell always in the background following Nashu, related to a specific type of Japanese comedic trope. I don't find it amusing. It's a single irritation point in a long story and among characters I otherwise enjoy, but I think the quests would be fine without those particular gags. There's a lot of folks who feel the same about the crossdressing, if they might otherwise have fun or at least be OK with the Hildibrand stories.

---

**There also may be a few things that could be said about how we players perceive the society, clothing, and gender presentation in game as a reflection of our own society despite the world in lore not showing the same standards by putting various characters of any gender in skirts and robes and skimpy outfits, or clothes otherwise gender locked (now or previously) for players, but that's starting to drift into a whole other topic.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Regrets // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1557

warnings // angst, mentions of abusive relationships (not details)

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader, Ethan Torchio x Platonic!Reader

author's note // taglist here. please only let me know if you want to be tagged on that google form so i know what to tag you on, thank you

I KNOW I MADE HER LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE BUT MY ANGSTY ASS NEEDED SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO BE ABLE TO WRITE THIS FIC SOOO... I LOVE VICTORIA, I DON'T THINK SHE'S AN ASSHOLE AND THE WHOLE I BULLY YOU MEANS I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU TROPE IS STUPID IN EVERY OTHER OCCASION BUT IN FANFICTION ITS FINE

also i changed the original tittle because i didnt like it that much

request // yes

summary // Reader is Ethan's best friend and because of that they are around the band a lot. Maybe a hint of jealously, a toxic partner and a visit at the hospital will be enough to change their relationship with Victoria from hate to love. Or maybe the love was there all along.

The first time the two met each other was right after the band finally united. Y/N’s had been Ethan’s best friend for years now, making the fateful meeting inevitable - as well as the obscure amount of time they would have to spend around each other. If anything, the drummer was attached to the hip with his best friend, tagging them along to every show, many rehearsals (there was even a suggestion to come with him on Måneskin’s European tour - it would be a nightmare if they did).

Victoria did not take long to adopt a defensive mode against them, one that not even she could decipher. Maybe it was the way they were just always there, like leech attached to her bandmate, or maybe it was that annoying way they dressed, all out there and attracting her attention, or maybe it was that stupid girlfriend of theirs that just had to make it known they were a couple. She really did get on Victoria’s nerves a awful lot. She was nice, not going to lie, just maybe a little too nice - ickly nice, she’d say. She wasn’t sure why but that girl simply made Victoria’s gut drop every time.

For years, as that relationship lasted, Victoria and Y/N would butt heads, always at each other’s throat with something to say and complain about. What are they doing here again, the bassist would ask over and over again. Just here to piss you off, Y/N would say, walking to Ethan. Other times it’d be the opposite. It just always was… a mess.

Everyone could see the situation the two found themselves into but no one could do anything. No, not until they opened their own damn eyes.

The dislike between the two only grew stronger and stronger as time passed by, with their insults getting worse. Truth be told, no one expected it to get that bad, and now they just hoped to stop.

For a while, Y/N was facing some drama in the relationship, some that could end up pretty bad. Not few were the nights Ethan would get a phone call in the middle of rehearsal, sobbing heard even beyond his phone. Please, please come get me Ethan. I don’t think …. The rest was inaudible for Victoria, not that I care, she would remind herself, moving on with her work.

On occasion she’d joke about it to Y/N. What? Trouble in paradise, cucciolo? Oh well. Deep down she knew she should not say that but she could not control herself. Y/N was pretty put together some of those times, others they’d just snap with no regard to anything. Just shut your fucking mouth, they said once adding a few profanities to explain their anger.

After the fourth time it happened the blonde had gotten genuinely angry. “Ok, enough. Close your phone, Ethan,” she spat out, almost snatching it off his hand. “They can wait.”

“But-”

“No! They have cut short three out of our four rehearsals this week! This is the fifth rehearsal, Ethan, their fourth time! They’re a big kid now, they should not need you all the time.”

In time she would regret those words but in that moment they seemed appropriate. She had grown exasperated at their constant interruptions. Well, most of the time they were not really disturbing - they’d call on a break or just cuddle with Ethan on a break, at a time they had for the solemn reason of relaxing - but Victoria would not admit that. Not to herself and not to anyone.

“Ok.” Ethan whispered the words, silencing his phone with a heavy heart. He had a bad feeling, that he knew for sure, but he did not feel like fighting with the blond bassist.

The hours they worked passed by quickly, feeling more like quick moving water, their session was simply flowing. It was now quiet, maybe around three in the morning. 2.58 AM read the clock on the table. Ethan was sure his best friend was sleeping by now. He’d shoot them a text and then go to sleep as well - lord knows he needed it. Well, not everything always goes as planned.

Victoria was by him when it happened.

His phone started to ring while he was about to walk to his room. Y/N. If he was not concerned earlier that night there was no way he was not now. It was not common for them to call at hours like this, if anything they were usually asleep by eleven, maybe even twelve.

“Pronto. Che? A- cazzo, sì, sì. Sto venendo ora.” showing off my italian lol

“Ethan? What happened?” She was not sure of her feelings in that instant. Why was she even asking him? She did not care about them, right? But no, no, it was not worry. It was fear of guilt. And worry, but that she was not aware of.

“Y/N is at the hospital,” he breathed out, “they- uhm… Their ex hurt them - thank god their neighbor was there and heard what happened. Oh my- if-if-if he was not there Y/N-”

Victoria could not stand seeing her friend like that. She believes that she’s never once seen Ethan this emotional - not negatively emotional, that is. He always keeps his composure so well but this time it just was not possible. The blonde just stood there now, holding Ethan in her arms, whispering comforting things to him, hoping that he’d calm down a bit.

“I-I should’ve answered the phone Vic… It- I could have prevented this. Oh god, it’s my-”

“Ethan no! If it’s anyone’s fault here, it’s mine. I should not have snapped like I did.”

“I- yeah. Yeah, you know what, yeah, it is your fault.” He was sad, he was anxious, he was angry… A whirlwind of emotions really, and Victoria’s statement made him target it to her. “It is your fault Vic, with that-that stupid, stupid, conflict you two have. I’m leaving.”

“Where are yo-”

“To the hospital! Where the fuck else?” Ethan’s voice was rising by the second, as his blood started boiling in his veins. He knew he could not drive there, but he was not about to say it.

“I’ll drive you-”

“No. I can do it on my own.”

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Victoria’s eyes were cast to the floor, unsure of what else to do. She knew that things were taken too far this time, the least she could do was drive her friend to the hospital.

The drive there was quiet. Neither knew what to say. Victoria was feeling guilty, afraid, and even worried about Y/N’s well-being, regardless of whether she could she tried to focus on the road. More injured people would not be helpful. Ethan on the other hand was fuming. He was angry out of his head; at his blonde friend, at himself and most of all that bitch, Y/N’s ex. She was the one to cause all of this, all of it, even problems he was not aware she was the cause of.

As they arrived there there was even more trouble on their way. He’s not family, he’s not a spouse, neither is Victoria. It was always like that. They would not let them pass if they were not either of those things but, god bless that man, the nurse that called him showed up, recognizing the voice and assuring the nurse, on the front, that he was indeed the only person on their emergency contacts, they had to pass. With a lot of complaining they were finally let to pass.

When they walked in the room Y/N was laying on the bed asleep and at first both their minds went to the worst case scenario. “I have given them some painkillers for now. They’ll be ok but some injuries cause severe pain -” he was walking outside along with Ethan.

Victoria was now left alone in the room with Y/N, although it felt as if she was looking at a photo of them rather than the real life Y/N. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say, the only thing that felt right to do at that moment. “It’s my fault -oh my it is! Ethan, he-he wanted to respond to the call by I-I got so angry!” She cried out, now grasping Y/N’s hand. “I can only hope he can forgive me. Hell, I hope you forgive me. It’s my fault you’re-”

“It’s not, Victoria.”

“You are awake?”

“It’s not your fault. I was already here when I called the first time. Neither of you could have changed a thing.” They were so calm - maybe it was the painkillers, she thought. “Thank you. For the apology I mean.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I-”

“Hey, stop! It’s ok. What’s by is by,” they laughed, never missing the opportunity to joke. (you know, bi - by… terrible pun)

“I, uh,” she paused, thinking of what to say next. She remembered a small chocolate bar in her pocket. She was about to eat it when the call happened. “I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat chocolate but I know you like it.”

“Oh my, it’s my favorite,” they gushed, prompting Vic to come closer.

“Come, sit, sit! We can share it.”

“Yeah, I guess we can.”

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