#...and closing them. i thought practice would fix it and it hasn't. i just don't have the right kind of dexterity or body/spatial...

[fantabulisticity]

I GOT ALL MY EARRINGS BACK IN PROPERLY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[myung-heee]

manipulation c.yj

kinktober: day 9 + manipulation

pairings: yeonjun x f!reader

warnings: manipulator!yeonjun x (kinda) innocent!reaader, manipulation, unprotected, (noncon at first), oral (f receiving), missionary

yeonjun is your closest friend since high school, both of you are complete opposites. he was popular, athletic, and had good grades, making him every girl's ideal type. Well, you can't blame them. yeonjun is a total package, embodying everything one could desire in a guy. he's like the living standard of a man.

both of you are quite close, and the reason why he was close to you and never broke your friendship remained a mystery to you and the other students around you. imagine being friends with the most idolized man on your campus while you consider yourself just a potato. however, yeonjun doesn't see you that way!! he views you as a cute potato.. (lol) he likes you as a woman, as a lady. he just hasn't found the right time to tell you

on the other hand, there's kai, your new friend who recently transferred to your class. initially, yeonjun didn't pay much attention; he would casually greet kai with a smile or a simple 'hi' whenever they crossed paths.

your friendship with kai seemed to flourish as yeonjun got busier with his basketball practices.

"let's hang out at my place," yeonjun approached you while you were sitting at your desk, copying the notes kai had lent you. you looked up at him and said shortly, "sorry, can't," before returning your attention to your notebook.

he raised a brow and asked, "can't? why? do you have something important coming up today?" he replied, "yeah, I'll be studying with kai," you said without even glancing at him. his expression faded, and he scoffed, "kai? the new guy, huh?"

"are you replacing me, y/n?" he asked. You looked up at him, trying to find a joke in his expression, but he seemed genuinely serious, gripping his towel, eyes fixed on you. "it's just one time.. i can always hang out with you, you know?" you explained. he sighed and looked away. "that's the point—just one time. this is the first time you don't want to hang out with me and choose someone you met just weeks ago?" his voice grew louder, drawing a few glances from your classmates. you sighed and looked around.

"jun, let's talk about this tomorrow. i have something to do," you said, showing him your notes. he just scoffed, wiped his face with the towel, and walked away. Before he could leave the classroom, he said, "i'll see you at the gate after class. i won't take no for an answer," and left.

your brows furrowed as you were about to say something, but the door had already closed. you sighed, put down your notes, and placed kai's notebook on his empty desk.

you told kai you weren't able to study with him tonight because something urgent came up. luckily for you, kai didn't actually mind it and told you that it was all fine.

you smiled at him. after class, you went to the gate right where yeonjun told you to. you saw him on his phone, a basketball on the side of his waist, and he had a towel hanging over his shoulder. you cleared your throat; he immediately looked in your direction and smiled, putting his phone in his pocket and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"i really thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore," he chuckled. you looked down. he was your only close friend, so of course, you would choose him over anyone else.

you had been debating with yourself earlier about whether you would hang out with him or kai, then a thought came to your mind. yeonjun was a popular guy, yet he chose to be friends with you. you felt bad, so you thought that maybe you had to choose him too.

"well, you're my best friend... why wouldn't i hang out with you?" you smiled. he patted your head. "i am your only best friend, so you'll choose me over anyone, okay?" he whispered. you nodded.

"that's what i thought," he smiled. you looked at him, confused about what he meant, but you just brushed it off. as you arrived at his home, his parents were there, and you greeted them.

"we'll just study together," he said and guided you upstairs into his room.

as you entered his room, you immediately made your way into his desk. you put your bag on the table and sat on his gaming chair. his eyes were fixated on you. "do you really think we'll study?" he chuckled. you furrowed your brows and threw a glance at him. "wait, we won't?" you asked in a confused tone.

 

he put his towel on the doorknob before clicking the lock. "yeah.. we'll hang out, remember?" he smiles innocently. you looked over at the doorknob, confused about why he locked the door.

 

when he saw your doubting expression, he slightly scratched the back of his neck and looked at you. "i just wanna have some privacy, so i could make up for the time i should've been with you instead of my practices," he sighed. you slightly nodded. "it wasn't your fault though.. besides, we're best friends, it doesn't really matter. it's not like i am your girl or anything," you said quietly.

 

best friends. he smiled at that word.

"yeah, best friends," he replied. you smiled and stood up. "what should we do then? we aren't going to study, right?" you asked. "do you want to play games? multiplayer?" you continued.

 

he shook his head.

 

"there's, uh, thoughts in my mind that i want to ask out loud, but at the same time, i can't" he softly said. you tilted your head in confusion. "what is it? Tell me, I'm your friend," you smiled.

 

"yeah, that's why I can't tell you because you're just my friend," he sighed. you stared at him for seconds. not knowing what to say. "what.. should i do then?" you asked, his face lit up like a candle. smiling at your response as if it were the exact words he wanted to hear from you.

"are you sure you can do anything i'll ask?" he raised a brow, making his way towards you.

 

you slightly nodded; you trusted him. so why not?

"you know.. you've been spending a lot of time with kai, and it makes me.. jealous." he sighes. he stops walking. he's in front of you, towering over you. you looked up at his tall figure.

 

"you feel jealous?" you asked, confused. he nodded.

 

"yeah." he places his hands on your chin and looks at your eyes deeply. "i wonder if he's being this close to you." his voice sounds like it's hypnotising.

 

you immediately shook your head. "n-no.. he doesn't," you said. he chuckles. "he better be," he says, lowering his head. "you won't let him, right?" he whispers in your ears.

 

"no," you shortly said. "good girl," he said as he kissed your temple. "that's what i thought, hmm?" he smiled.

 

you nodded. with each second, you grew more desperate and needy for your best friend. all the signs of battling from your thoughts that he was just a friend disappeared. every word that leaves his mouth feels like music to your ears.

 

"i know you like me, y/n, so why don't you show how much you do?" he held your shoulders and sat you on the bed

"h-huh? right now?" you asked, confused. you held his arm and shook your head. "we can't.. your parents are downstairs." you whispered.

 

"let's just be quiet and quick," he said reassuringly. he gently kissed your neck down to your shoulders, your hands holding on to his shirt.

 

"wait—"

 

you said, stopping him from removing your shirt. halfway through it, he paused and looked at you. he can see that you were hesitant.. you were about to say something, but he cuts you. "don't you trust me? come on, y/n.. i'll take care of you. hmm? you'll love this," he confidently said, kissing your nose before completely removing your shirt.

 

he traces soft kisses on your shoulders, leaving soft marks. "trust me, okay?" he said softly. he cupped your clothed chest and massaged it softly before removing your bra. you blushed, feeling all shy and embarrassed.

 

"you're so pretty," he whispered, giving both of your chests equal attention, sucking and licking, leaving bite marks all over them.

 

he knelt on the bed and pushed you on the mattress, back touching the comfortable sheets. he rubbed his palm against your inner thighs. you're still wearing your denim shorts.

 

he was about to pull them down when you stopped him again, holding his arm. "wait—i don't think—" you were stopped when you met his eyes; his eyes are dark, staring into you. he seemed to be losing his patience now.

 

"don't act like you didn't do these with kai. Such a whore." his words hit like a brick as he pulled your shorts down. you rubbed your legs together, and you knew deep down that you didn't want this at all. but you can't do anything. you like him, and you trust him.

 

you bit your lips as you felt his finger rubbing your clothed sensitive spot. you've never felt this way before, not with your best friend.

 

you gasped when you felt him pull down your panty, revealing your wet core. he laughed softly when you covered your face embarrassingly.

 

"cute"

 

he said before completely diving into your wet entrance, covering your mouth to muffle your moans, the other hand gripping to his sheets.

 

"kids! dinner's ready!" your body froze as you heard his mom shout from downstairs. your brain is getting fuzzy. your eyes shut, you force yourself not to moan so hard.

 

"yeonjun," you moaned his name quietly, making him look up, his mouth still on your entrance. your eyes met, you could see how his jaws move up and down and the way he eats you out.

 

he groans, and he can tell that you're getting close. and he has a bad idea. as you were about to release, he removed his mouth from your core, your hips chasing his mouth. you whined at the sudden loss of pleasure. "junnie." you glanced at him, brows furrowed.

 

he chuckled at the view. he ran his fingers through his hair before lowering his sweatpants, just on his thigh. he took out his hard erection. you were about to say something but were stopped when you felt him rub his shaft against your wet pussy.

 

when he entered his shadt inside you, you couldn't help but whine. "hnggg!" you whine loud enough that both of you stopped at the same touch, eyes meeting with each other full of lust.

the surroundings were all quiet until you heard him chuckle, "keep quiet for me, y/n." he kissed your forehead and pushed himself deeper.

as he found his pace, he began thrusting fast enough that you could hear the bed creaking. your brows furrowed, hands on your mouth, and the other one is holding his arm.

you were so lost in pleasure, yet you remained conscious, forcing yourself not to release a sound.

"fuck. im near, fuck!" he groans. you shook your head. "please pull out," you said quietly.

the case is that he won't come unless you go first. he held it in and began thrusting harder and faster, hissing. "come on, cum for me," he said desperately.

you can feel yourself getting closer and closer until a wave of pleasure hits your body, making you moan out loud. yeonjun immediately covers your mouth and chuckles. "shh.. you're taking me so well," he says, still fucking you through your orgasm.

he closed his eyes and pulled out, exactly as his seed spurted out on your thigh.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is unrequited!

(936 words.)

"Oh, just fuck right off!" Sirius snaps, grip tightening on his butterbeer.

"God, what's gotten into you?" Marlene asks, arching an eyebrow. To be perfectly honest, Sirius doesn't want to talk about it.

James is more than happy to, though.

"Don't worry about him. He's all pissy because of his unrequited love." Sirius' head immediately snaps up, alarmed.

"Prongs," He says, warning. His eyes almost involuntarily dart to Remus for half a second, panic seeping through him. James, however, is teetering on the line between tipsy and drunk, completely missing the hint.

"Mm, completely hung up on some girl, right?" Peter chimes in, and Sirius almost wants to laugh. The urge to drop dead is much stronger, though. To crawl into a hole and say there until this conversation ends.

"Something like that," Sirius says quickly, before turning away from them both. Fingers crossed, he can just shut this down. "Hey, Lily, that potions essay..."

Unfortunately for him, Lily seems just as invested.

"How do you know it's unrequited?" She asks curiously. Remus lifts his head, then, nose out of his book. For some reason, that's what tips him over the edge. He needs everyone to stop. This is difficult enough.

"Because I asked, okay?" He says hurriedly. It causes his friends to lapse into silence, but it's like he's just burst a dam. The explanation starts before he can hold it back. "I asked, and they said no. They said it was a bad idea, we were too close for that."

"Huh," Mary hums.

"What?" Sirius asks with a frown.

"They didn't say they don't like you?" Mary asks, and it really throws Sirius. He hasn't considered that.

"No, not exactly," He muses, frowning. "But why would anyone reject someone they like?"

"Maybe they were scared of ruining the friendship you two have," Remus speaks up gently, almost inaudibly from across the common room; capturing Sirius' attention in less than a second.

"That makes no sense," Sirius says without missing a beat, eyes locking with Remus. "They should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't let that happen. I know they wouldn't. We've survived worse."

From the corner of his eye, he can see confusion flit across James' face at that comment. Yeah, it was a bit of a risky thing to say. He's practically handing James the truth. It doesn't matter, though. Not right now. His eyes are fixed on Remus.

"Depends on what you think is worse. They might be worried about a messy breakup getting in the way."

"No, that can't be it," He says, imploring. The longing to see into Remus' mind, figure out what he means is too strong. He'll have to unravel it this way instead. "If they're already thinking about a breakup, then clearly they don't like me that much. Unrequited." He wants nothing more than to drop the matter now that he's proven his point to himself. Maybe he doesn't need to see inside Remus' mind. He goes to down the rest of his drink, but Remus is shaking his head, and Sirius is losing sight of everyone else in favour of Remus.

"Or they just care too much about you." There's something in Remus' eyes, an ache that Sirius wants to heal.

"Really? Why would they reject me when I told them how I feel, then?!" Sirius asks desperately. It seems to snap Remus' resolve, burst his ambigious speech.

"Because I'm in love with you, Sirius! Okay?! Christ, this isn't just some- some joke, or some experiment to me! You looked me in the eye and told me you liked me, and that- that made me hope, okay? I don't want to hope. To think that you liking me means you'll fall in love with me. I mean," He releases a breathy laugh, seemingly unaware to the way Sirius' world is turning on it's axis, "I'm me, and you're- you're perfect."

He seems to have reached the end of his tangent, pattering out as everyone looks between the two of them, stunned. Sirius searches his brain, which may or may not be short circuiting, for some way to voice his thoughts. There are so many things he could say, so many ways to tell Remus everything, but none of them seem to be enough. Enough to encompass everything. A better solution comes to him as his yearning overwhelms him.

With that, he sets his butterbeer down and crosses the common room. Remus' eyes widen, suddenly unsure, until Sirius pulls himself into Remus' armchair, facing him. He reaches out, pressing a hand against Remus' cheek and finally, finally connecting their lips. It's everything he could have imagined and more.

Remus' lips are soft, warm against his, overwhelmingly perfect, and making Sirius desperate to stay there forever, mapping out every inch of Remus' mouth, the way it fits against his like they should have been doing this forever. It's a feeling Sirius knows he's never going to forget, causing the words he has been desperately repressing for years bubbling up inside him.

"I love you," Sirius murmurs against Remus' lips after a moment. "I love you so much, Moony."

Their eyes meet again, Sirius watching as Remus' eyes go from searching to joyful, a grin splitting across his face. It took a whooping cheer from James to break the spell that Remus' eyes got him in. They both turn to their friends, a laugh escaping Sirius as he drops his head into Remus' shoulder.

"Thank fuck that's sorted, then!" Lily says brightly, a wry smile on her face.

Okay, Sirius is really grateful for his oversharing friends.

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: the moment of truth. Can you and Bradley work out your differences?

A/n: oml im so sorry for the long wait. i just kind dropped off the face of the earth. i didnt really have any motivation to write but now i'm back! this chap is kinda short but another will be posted on Tuesday :D

Warning(s): angst, estranged family

Part 9: Sometimes I wish I was 10

Before Jake, you never really fully believed in cloud nine. Now though, as you giddily walk through the halls of camp, your body tingles with newfound excitement. Electricity practically flows through your veins.

"I take it the date went well?" Amy's voice comes from behind you. Normally, you would have chastised her for sneaking up on you, but for now, you just smile as your cheeks slightly redden. Amy's smile widens even more as she latches onto your arm. "Oh my gosh! You have to tell me everything! And, I MEAN everything!" The both of you giggle as you push open the door to the gym.

The rest of your team turns to the pair of you and it's no secret that they're curious about your date. Carlos certainly isn't subtle as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jensen's the only one (besides Amy) who vocally asks you how you went. Just as you're about to recount last night's events, the doors swing open and a panting Bradley stands there.

Silence spreads for a couple seconds as Bradley gathers his breath. Offering a shaky smile, he rubs at the back of his neck. "Sorry for, uh, barging in, but I'm here to talk to Braidy."

When Nolan clears his throat, you roll your eyes and turn to face Jensen again. "We'll give you two a minute," he says and your eyes widen. No way he was actually going to leave you alone with Bradley?

Jensen gives you a small pat on the shoulder as your team shuffles by and out of the gym. The door closes behind them and each step that Bradley takes towards you seems to get louder.

Your fists clenched tightly together as you will yourself not to turn around. Turning around means acknowledging that Bradley's standing less than five feet away from you. The brother who abandoned you and seemingly forgot your existence bites his lip as he tries to find the right words. "(y/)– Braidy, please just hear me out."

"What if I don't want to?" 'Idiot, why'd you respond?'

"I'll keep finding you and repeating what I'm going to say. I'll keep apologizing until the world stops spinning. I know that sorry doesn't make up for the years of pain I put you through. That sorry won't just magically fix us. That it won't undo all the words I said. But, please Braidy, at least let me make it up to you."

Make it up to you? What if there's nothing that can be done? What if you're finally done with Bradley and that painful chapter of your life?

"I don't care Bradley. I don't want to fix us."

"Braidy, you're my sister–"

"SO I WASN'T YOUR SISTER BACK THEN?" you yell before you can properly think. There's a heavy burn in your chest and a part of you think it'll burst any moment. Every breath you take feels as though you're inhaling smoke. Your eyes meet Bradley's and the suffocating feeling vanishes.

You feel like you're ten again. A fifteen-year-old Bradley wipes the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. One hand comes up to ruffle at your hair and he quietly cooes at you to stop crying. Soft reassurances of 'everything is gonna be okay' repeat after one another as more tears fall.

The calm and warm reassurance that Bradley constantly provided for you returns and it scares you. It scares you that after so much pain and heartbreak, Bradley can still make you feel so warm with just a simple look.

It's almost as though nothing has changed and time hasn't past. And if you're completely honest, that thought doesn't invoke any fear. Because right now, in this moment as you stare into your brother's eyes, you wish you were ten again.

Bradley slowly lifts a hand to wipe at the tear that rolls down your cheek. His other hand wrap around the back of your head and brings you closer. Soft whispers come from Bradley's lips but you hardly hear them over your sobs.

"Everything's going to be okay. Just let me make it up to you."

"…You can’t…” you whisper as you push yourself out of Bradley's arms. Furiously wiping at your cheeks, your arms wrap around your torso as you direct your gaze to the floor. "I can't even look at you, Bradley. Every time that I do, I'm just reminded of the worst event of my life. I don't think you can make it up to me, so just, please, leave me alone." You take a step back and swallow the lump at the back of your throat. "I'm happy with the life I've made. I'm happy with my friends and family. I appreciate you apologizing, but I don't accept it."

Before Bradley can say anything, you quickly turn and walk out of the gym. Weirdly enough, the weight returns and it feels like you can't breathe. Walking away from Bradley might be the wrong decision, you think. But, that doesn't stop you from continuing down the halls.

Taglist: @potato-girl99981 @callsign-cacti @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina @krismdavis @phantomxoxo @piceous21 @laneyspaulding19 @multifandomfangirll @moron-says-what @rhirhikingston @startrekfangirl2233 @mightiestheroes @gizmodear @meritxellao @adaydreamaway

[snuffink]

Something something something even though I don't care for MyStreet nearly as much as I do Diaries, Nana is a thorn in my ass and I've been itching to take care of it, I just didn't know what I would do with her beyond changing her stereotypical character and her super weird, obsessive personality

And then I had a thought

A super self indulgent thought.

Now this could go one of two ways, picture me this. Nana, born to a huge family with either

A. Two unbelievably loving parents. Through all of the family's struggles and keeping together a family of 13 they still had a picture-perfect relationship. They loved each other so deeply and transparently that they practically built Nana's ideals for love and future partners. Romantic love just like what her present have is all she could ever wish for.

Or,

B. Nana's parents aren't in love. Keeping afloat a family of 14 has destroyed their relationship and any love they had for each other is long gone. No matter how much they may or may not try to hide it from their children, it was obvious that while they were together, they were not in love. Having watched her parents fight and try to workout their differences to no avail has left Nana determined to never have a relationship like theirs. She wants nothing more than to have a relationship built on love and trust and care for one another.

Then she comes to the realisation that she doesn't feel romantic love. At least not the way her friends do. All the crushes and fantasies her friends experience throughout middle school and high school never seem to happen to her. Nobody to gush over in class, no love letters to slip into lockers, no blushing and giggling or hand holding. No friends teasing you over a crush. No matter how she tries to seek out potential crush candidates in class, no one even catches her eye.

But she stays hopeful! One doesn't simply stumble upon the perfect partner, and she's still young! She has time!

In the meanwhile, she focuses on herself for a while. Makes herself stand out. Having 11 siblings makes it hard to stand out, she's gotta fix that first before she can focus on love!

Then in high school her friends start getting into their first serious relationships. She still hasn't felt anything close to what they describe to her. Her friends would talk about their partners and crushes and the fluttery feeling they would get at the slightest interaction and she couldn't relate.

Little by little, she started focusing on other people's relationships. At first it wasn't on purpose. Her friends would talk about their relationship and she would listen. Then their partners would ask for help with gifts or the like. Having always been good at reading people, she would start seeing people who she thought would make a good couple. Before she realised, she was setting people up without even meaning to. Before high school ended, she had gotten herself the title of matchmaker. A title that she carried all throughout college and even some years after graduating. The closer she was to the people she was setting up, the more important the relationship became to her.

Well into adulthood, though she had been on dates and tried talking to people, she still hadn't felt an ounce of romantic love or the feelings her friends had always told her about. Was there something wrong with her? Why couldn't she have what her friends had? Was she simply doomed to never fulfill her greatest wish since childhood?

Aaron and Aph's relationship reminded her a lot of her parents' relationship (case A). For a while it was bittersweet, seeing her best friend so happy and loved just like she had always hoped to be was confusing. She ultimately buried those feelings for the betterment of their friendship.

Over the years she's made peace with her lack of romantic feelings. She's happy, she's surrounded by her best friends, her family, she has a comfortable life and her friends are all happy and safe. Most of them are in wonderful loving relationships. She has all she needs, she shouldn't ask for more.

She's long since given up on finding love, she's happy as she is, until Zane. They had grown quite close in recent months even though they had been acquaintances since high school. Zane was sweet and kind. He's never judged her for anything she's done. Nana doesn't quite know why, but she feels as though she can trust him with anything. They talk a lot, she enjoys talking to him. Their conversations flow fluidly. They understand each other. Zane is the first person she's tells about her family and her fixation with relationships.

After so long of yearning for the feeling, she has butterflies for the first time.

[zimms]

new york city

you called me last night on the telephone and i was glad to hear from you cause i was all alone you said, "it's snowing, it's snowing! god, i hate this weather" now i walk through blizzards just to get us back together

Derek twists the telephone cord around his finger, straining to hear Will's words down the phone. "Sorry, you're cutting out. The landline's a little dodgy."

He definitely doesn't fail to hear the crackle of Will's laughter down the phone. "A landline? What is this, Nurse? The eighties?"

"Shut up! My moms prefer it for some reason. And, I don't know, it has a bit of je ne sais quoi, a bit of nostalgia, a bit of style, y'know." To emphasise the point, even if only to himself, Derek winds the cable around his fingers a couple more times.

"I don't, but I'll take your word for it."

Derek huffs his own laugh before softening his voice. "Look, the point is that I missed what you said the first time. Please could you repeat it, babe?"

Will's voice comes through the phone. "I said that it's snowing here."

"Isn't it always snowing in Maine in December?" Derek says, "Like I thought that was a given?"

"Yeah, but it's the first time I've seen snow since I last saw you." Will's voice goes quietier. "I miss you."

"That was literally two weeks ago, Dex." Derek rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Will can't see him. "You can't possibly miss me that much; you literally went almost two years without talking to me between leaving Samwell and the spring." He sighs and grins to himself "But- I miss you too."

we met in the springtime at a rock and roll show it was on the bowery when it was time to go

One second Derek is bouncing along to the song that the band is playing, the next, his gaze is fixed on a very familiar head of red hair that's darting through the crowd at the gig.

Dex?

Derek is too packed in by the surrounding crowd to do anything but watch, tracking the figure of a man who, two years ago, he never thought he'd see again. Well, maybe not never, after all they'd been to two weddings together this summer alone. But the point is, it would never be just the two of them again.

He allows himself to be swept back up in the words of the song, singing along with the rest of the crowd, but he never truly stops staring at the back of Dex's head. It's fine; Derek will catch him at the bar after the show. He has to.

The gig is in a tiny bar that masquerades as a club/concert venue, packed to the brim with people here to see bands make their first stumbling steps into the music industry. Derek first listened to these guys in his Senior Year at Samwell and fell head over heels in love with their music. They were even the soundtrack to his alarms for the year, greeting him before every 5am practice (because Dex was a total hardass).

After the final song, the crowd starts to disperse and Derek seizes his moment to chase after Dex.

He can't let him slip away from him.

Not this time.

Derek pushes through the crowd, apologising every step of the way, until Dex is finally within reach. Naturally, as soon as Derek goes to close his hand around Will's shoulder, the man in question takes a step forward and Derek takes a big handful of just air. "Dex! Hey! Dex!"

Will spins around and suddenly they're chest to chest for the first time in- Derek doesn't even know how long.

He forgets how to breathe.

"Nursey?" Dex's eyebrows furrow in that familiar way: the way they would when he couldn't figure out the problem with a particularly tricky bit of code, or when he was trying to figure out the best way to shut down the opposing team's attack. Derek hasn't realised until now just how much he missed that expression.

"Dex!" he says, trying desperately to sound normal and not at all breathless and relaxed. "How are you? I didn't- I didn't know you were in New York?"

Dex rubs the back of his neck. "I'm, erm, I'm not really, but I guess, I am?"

"Dex, I say this lovingly, but genuinely what the fuck does that mean?" Derek takes the opportunity to step back, breaking the physical contact between them at last. He can finally breathe.

"I'm living over near Lincoln Park, but I'm working for a start up here."

Derek laughs. "Dude, you could have just said that!"

"I was suprised to see you, okay!" Dex mumbles. "Though I'm not sure why I'm that surprised considering that you were the one that got me into this band, but it's whatever."

Derek pauses and considers what to say for a second, looking Dex up and down to try and gauge how much interaction with him Dex would be willing to stand. He takes another second to throw all of that consideration out of the window and just say fuck it.

He grins up at Will. "Can I buy you a drink?"

we kissed on the subway in the middle of the night i held your hand, you held mine, it was the best night of my life

One drink turns into two and two turns into four and so on and so on until the two of them stumble out onto the Bowery and into the open air at 3am.

Derek doesn't know how to describe it, but everything always feels easier at 3am. As they walk along the street towards the subway station, he brushes his hand against Dex's once, twice, three times until finally Will takes his hand in his.

They tangle their fingers together, relaxing into the easy rhythm that they lost at some point during senior year, and falling into each other's orbits yet again.

Derek tugs Will towards the Houston Bowery Wall, gravitating towards the explosion of colour in the night light. "C'mere." He squeezes Will's hand. "This is the Bowery Wall Mural. It's one of my favourite pieces of art in New York, especially this one."

"This one?" Will's voice trembles a little as if they're in a holy place rather than stood on the intersection of two busy streets in New York.

"They change the wall every so often, a constant fresh start, constant new opportunities. Sometimes they decide that a mural has had its time, sometimes other people decide for them, covering up the work with graffiti, showing the world what matters to them. But the wall always comes back with a newer piece of art, a never-ending cycle of hope and new beginnings."

Derek looks down at his and Will's interlocked hands and gives them another squeeze. "Last year, they decided to stop commissioning new murals because they kept being destroyed, but out of the ashes came this mural."

The wall is painted in a bright array of portraits, depicting people of all shapes and sizes. It takes Derek's breath away as he looks at it, even though he walks past it every week; there's something different about bringing Will here.

Will's voice catches in his throat. "It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here."

Derek grins back at him. "Thank you for coming with me."

Will's expression shifts and his eyes begin to dart around. "I should be going."

"What? All the way back to Jersey at this time? You're not going to get back until like 8am. Seriously, come back to my place; you can take the guest room."

(Internally, Derek kicks himself.)

"No, no, I can head back; I wouldn't want to impose."

"No, seriously I insist," Derek says, slowly beginning to steer them towards the subway station. "We're like ten minutes from my place on the subway; way better than going back to Jersey."

Will huffs a sigh, knowing that he's lost this battle. "Okay, fine. But I'll pay you back somehow, y'know."

Derek smiles at him as they enter through the ticket barriers. "I know."

(Derek will unashamedly admit that they made out in the empty subway carriage. Like c'mon, how could he resist waiting until he got home?)

because everyone's your friend in new york city and everything looks beautiful when you're young and pretty the streets are paved with diamonds and there's just so much to see but the best thing about new york city is you and me

Derek wraps his arms around Will's waist and pulls him in closer, letting their bodies slot together in the warmth of the bed. "I'm so glad that I spotted you at that gig," he whispers into the crook of his neck. "I couldn't let you get away again."

Will leans back into the embrace. "I'm glad you found me too." He wriggles a bit, getting more comfortable. "It feels like I was stumbling blindly around the city before you found me. Like New York and you are so intertwined; you are New York, New York is you. It was weird to be in the city without you, to be honest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Will turns around to look at him. “Seriously, Derek. I’ve loved the past four months of you dragging me around the city.”

Derek tickles his sides and Will squirms in his arms. “Drag?! I seem to recall you were the one that made a whole list of places that you wanted to see, including Co-Op City.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will mutters, ducking his head. “Maybe we shouldn’t have trekked all the way out to the Bronx just for it, but I thought I should see it, okay? It was a big case study in my urban planning class.”

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.” Derek leans down to kiss his boyfriend. “I think it’s sweet, honestly. Especially considering you didn’t think to do any of this stuff in your first two months of living here.”

“I was getting used to a new city! I wasn’t trying to sight-see; I was trying to survive!”

Derek hums to convey his total belief in Will’s statement. “Uh, huh.”

“It’s true!”

Derek hums again and grins down at him. “Anyway, do you still have that list somewhere? I need to figure out what’s left on your New York bucket list.”

Will blindly flails his arm onto his bedside table. “Yeah, yeah. Lemme just find it.” He rummages around a bit more, before finally producing a crumpled-up piece of paper. “here you go.”

statue of liberty, staten island ferry, co-op city, katz's, and tiffany's, central park, brooklyn bridge, the empire state, where dylan lived, coney island, and times square, rockefeller center

“Okay, I think I have the perfect idea for what our final stereotypical New York sightseeing trip will be,” Derek says.

“Mhhm, am I allowed to know what it is?”

“You’ll find out in, like, three months, I promise.” Derek can’t resist and gives Will another peck on the cheek. “It’ll be worth it.”

wish i was there

Derek finally removes his hands from where they’ve been covering Will’s eyes for the past ten minutes. “Surprise?”

They’re stood just outside the Rockefeller Centre ice rink, which is filled with a hurricane of screaming children and couples desperately trying to keep their balance whilst holding hands.

Will chuckles. “I’d say yes, but somehow the fact that you blindfolded me when you caught me looking at a sign for the Rockefeller Centre says otherwise.” He pauses. “Also, the fact that I caught you stealing my skates from my apartment the last time we were there.”

“Okay, you got me,” Derek says, “but it was good choice, yeah?”

“Yes, definitely.” Will threads his hand in Derek’s. “It was a great choice. Plus it’s like full circle, y’know. We first met at an ice rink and it’s nice to bring the list to a close with an ice rink too. Especially considering how much our relationship has changed over the past seven years, though it was a bit touch and go for a while, eh.”

Derek can’t help himself; he laughs. “Eh? Have you been spending too much time with Jack, huh?”

“Shut up.” Will lets go of his boyfriend’s hand so that he can elbow him instead. “I’m trying to be romantic and poetic and shit; don’t make fun of me.”

“Okay, okay.” Derek says. “You said exactly what I was gonna say, is all.”

“Oh?” Will mock-gasps. “So, I was in fact being poetic and shit?”

Derek kisses him – mostly to wipe the smug grin off his face – and then pulls back. “Are you ready to go and show these kids and tourists how it’s done?”

“Aren’t we technically tourists for this exercise?”

“Shhhh.” Derek kisses Will again, just for the fun of it this time and as they break apart, he feels something wet on his cheek. “Wait, are you crying?”

“No, you idiot, it’s snowing.”

Oh.

So, it is.

Derek feels a little stupid right now, but he can’t tell if that’s because of the kiss or because he was so obviously wrong.

Will taps him on the shoulder. “Come back here, idiot. This feels like a pretty perfect ending to my first year in New York.”

Derek waggles his eyebrows at him. “Yeah?”

He’s met with an eyeroll, but Will also rewards him with a “yeah” and another world-stopping kiss.

Derek has to agree with Will: with the snow falling down on them and the hubbub of the city around them, it does feel like a pretty perfect ending to their first year in New York together.

you wrote me a letter just the other day you said, "springtime is coming soon so why don't you come to stay" i packed my stuff, it's on the bus, i can't believe it's true. i'm three days from new york city and i'm three days from you.

Will has to laugh when his mom hands him the mail stack, an envelope with his name on it sat on top. Did Derek seriously send him a letter for the two weeks that he was back in Maine? Well, yeah, clearly – that much is evidenced by the fucking letter in his hand.

In fairness, the gesture does have Derek written all over it.

He carefully rips open the letter, thankfully not wax-sealed like some of the love letters that Will had watched Nursey send in his earlier years at Samwell, and the contents spill out.

Will pick up the letter first and begins to read it.

Dear Will,

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been nine months since I found you again at that gig on the Bowery; it feels like we’ve been exploring New York together for years. But springtime is coming soon again and I’m hoping that I’ll never have to find you again, but instead that you’ll always be in easy reach by my side. You know how you said one night that to you New York is me? Well, in the past nine months, New York has instead become You and Me. I feel like you’re pulling back the curtain and I’m seeing the city I’ve lived in for my whole life in a completely different light. Everything is suddenly so much brighter and more beautiful with you around. I hope that this new light continues with the dawn of this new spring, a third new beginning for us perhaps, but just to make sure, would you do me the honour of moving in with me? I mean, if nothing else, it saves you (and, rather selfishly, me) the commute the Lincoln Park every other night.

I know it’s only been a week, but I miss you so much.

I love you.

Derek.

The other item sitting on the kitchen table in front of Will is a keyring with two keys and a picture of the one of the windows from the current Bowery Mural. The keys are engraved with the numbers #24 and #28 and Will can’t quite hold back the mistiness that begins to gather in his eyes.

Of course, after everything, Derek brings it back to hockey, back to Samwell, back to that period of time when they were inseparable, but constantly at odds with each other, so similar, but so different.

Will carefully threads his old keys onto the new keyring. A third and final new beginning sounds perfect to him.

because everyone's your friend in new york city and everything looks beautiful when you're young and pretty the streets are paved with diamonds and there's just so much to see but the best thing about new york city is you and me

[small-sinclair]

Forgive Them

A little dabble of Bo being a dad and meeting his wife a new friend. This is how they met, the reader from Take Me Instead and I Promise I’ll Always Love You.

Part 2

Bo x mother fem!reader

Tw: HEAVY physical abuse, mention of death, sexual stuff mentioned, forced miscarriage, abusive parent, happy ending??

“What’re gonna do?” Lester’s voice drawls over the phone. “They got a kid.”

“I’ll figure somethin’ out, Les,” Bo said as he was walking towards the front door of the shop. “'M not too worry.”

“But ’s a baby—“

“Les,” Bo warned, “I got it.” With that, he hung up and adjusted his hat. He walks towards the door and walked out. He went to the garage door and pulled it up to show off the car he’s been working on.

Ambrose hasn't had a family come through in a while, so it'll be perfect for Vincent to practice to make a happy family. Bo knew he would never have something like that, and it hurts to think of it. He thought he would be a good father, a better father than his own. He thought of building fences around the house, a front swing for him and his sweetheart to watch their kids run around. A dog or two. He craved for that type of life he was promised when he was a kid. If not that, he hoped that he was going to be a good uncle if his brothers married.

He pushed the thoughts away as he popped the hood of the car and started looking at the belt and spark plugs. The car came in after the last group, and he thought he might fix it up good and have Lester sell it in the town over. If not, he'll strip it for parts and sell them.

Bo wondered if his kid would want to learn how to fix cars.

He heard footsteps coming closer to his shop but pays no mind to act like he’s too busy. He was thankful the family came before his thoughts swallowed him whole.

“Excuse me?” A man asked, getting Bo’s attention. “You Bo?”

Bo looked over his shoulder and wiped his hands with the rag in his back pocket. “Yes, sir. That’s me.” He sees the mother and her holding a child’s hand. He could see a bump growing, showing she had another bun in the oven. Lester never said anything about that over the phone, but he won't pay mind to it for a while. He'll worry about that later. “What can I do for ya?”

He didn’t like how there was a fading black eye on you. Once you noticed he was looking, you gave a smile, making him look at your husband. It's better if you hide behind your man, y/n, but your child needs you more.

“The driver said you have a battery?” The man placed his hands on his hips. “Were in a hurry, too, so—“

“Come inside and I’ll show you what I got,” Bo said, cutting him off. “We can talk cars while your woman takes junior to the House of Wax.” He flashed you a smile and a quick wink. “An' the AC can help t' heat. Can’t have Mama passing out to heat, can we?”

The man’s eye twitched as he kept his fake smile. He turns to you and nodded for you to leave. “I’ll be there in a moment. Take Jasmine with you, y/n.”

Y/n... what a beautiful name, Bo thought with a smile.

Bo lifted a brow as he looked at the little girl in a bright green dress, white little sandals, and her hands clutched a stuffed pink bear. Bo smiled at her and gave a little wave. “Jasmine, huh?” He knelt down, ignoring the man for a moment. “Ain’t she pretty?”

Shyly, the little girl waved back before hiding behind her mama. He saw the banged up knee and too big bruised on her arm, fresh and bright. If Bo didn’t have restraint, he would’ve killed your husband then and there, but there was a child. He couldn’t let that side show in front of a child. She must've been an one-year-old but she was so small and tiny.

You clear your throat, holding the bump close. “We’ll be waiting, Toddy.” Then you flash a smile towards Bo. It melted his heart, just for a moment. “Thank you, mister.”

“Just call me Bo, ma’am,” he said, tipping his trucker’s hat. He took you in like a sunset over the gulf. He'll get rid of Todd; don't worry.

“Just call me y/n,” you gave a smile. As soon as the smile came, it faded as Todd glared at you, his back turning away from Bo just he doesn’t see.

“I’ll walk you up there,” Todd said suddenly. “It’s just up the road, right?”

Bo nods. “Yeah, but it’s not far—“

“Like you said, the heat’s not good for her,” he walked to your side, his hand gripping your wrist. “Won’t be long.”

Bo swallowed hard but he forces a nod. He knows you begging him to come with you, your eyes tearing up. He knows your pain, he knows you’re hurting, but he has to play up his act. He has to keep up the dumb hick mechanic. He’s sorry, y/n… he’s so sorry.

“Sounds fine," he gave a fake grin. "I'll meet ya there in a few."

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

"What did I tell you?" Todd hissed as soon as they were far enough from the mechanic. His grip around your arm was too tight, leaving a mark right away.

"I was being friendly, honey," you defended yourself.

Todd rolled his eyes as he pulled you along. "yeah, right. I bet you want to fuck him, too."

"Excuse me?"

"I saw the way you were looking at the driver, too," he spat as he turned to corner that the House of Wax was on. The green building stood tall over the street as its shadow casts over you and your child. "Bet you would spread your legs if they just asked."

You clinched your jaw, trying to pull away from his grip. "Can we not do this now? Jasmine--"

"That little fucker doesn't understand anything," Todd pulled your arm harder and tighter. "I'm giving you this one chance, y/n. One. Last. Chance." His words were filled with venom and blood, his dark brown eyes narrowing at you as he let go. He went up the steps and opened the door to the house. "Act up."

He didn't have the door open long enough for you to walk through. you caught the door just in time before it would close on Jasmine. You didn't have much of a choice when it came to Todd. He was your brother's best friend. He acted so nice around your family, smiling for your mother, laughing with your father, befriending everyone but you. He was nice to you though in the beginning, but he changed after moving you away from your hometown. There were thoughts of packing and leaving in the middle of the night, but he had such a short leash on your that you were scared. No matter where you went, Todd found you. So, you stayed and tried, but how long until you give up on trying, y/n? How much does that cost?

Inside, the AC unit was running at full blast as if Bo knew you were coming here this morning, and your sighed with a small grin. The place is dusty but you can see the art just fine. You used to oil paint back when you were happy and fill with life. You scooped up Jasmine and placed her on your hip. Little grabby hands reached for a waxed butterfly handing from the ceiling, and it caused you to laugh to yourself. The best thing Todd ever gave you was Jasmine, and you'll be damned if he tries to take that from you.

"That's a butterfly, darling," you said in a song voice. "Can you 'butterfly'?"

"She's too dumb to figure that out," Todd murmurs as he looks at a waxed figure. "Jeez, these things are creepy." He looks back at you, forcing you to nod your head in agreement. You didn't want to risk another fight. "I shouldn't be long, y/n. Think you could keep your legs closed long enough?"

"Todd, stop it!" You looked down at Jasmine then found an open couch for her to sit on. "I'm not a whore--"

A loud smack echoed throughout the house. His ringed hand stung as you went to the floor of the waxed house. You held your jaw as tears fell from your eyes. You hated that you cried so easily. When you looked up at Jasmine, you watched as her nose crinkled up and she started crying. Her face turned a bright red as she wiles echoed in the house.

"Oh my god!" Todd shouted at Jasmine, stepping over you. "Shut up-!"

You shot up from the floor and pulled him away from Jasmine, taking his attention. "Don't touch her!" You pushed him away and stood between your child and him. "Don't! She's a baby, Todd! She doesn't know better!" You didn't know there was a dark figure watching from the corner, his heavy blue eye watching your every move. "Don't--!"

You were met with another blow from the man, his fist hitting your eye. You took a few steps back before you could register the hard fist hitting your stomach, right on the little bump. You fell on your knees as you held your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. When you looked up at him, you were met with a kick over your shielded stomach. You felt something inside you crush as you laid on your side crying. You could hear Jasmine screaming at the sight, her mind not registering what's going on.

You closed your eyes and wished for it to stop, for all of it to stop--

The sound of a gun clicking caught your ears and the sound of metal scratching made your head lift. Your eyes met Bo's as his shotgun aimed right at Todd. His harden blue eyes looking at him with fire, an ember that's been burning since he met you. Standing to his left, just far off, a darken figure emerged from the shadows, two knives clinching hard between his hands, his face covered by a waxed mask. You looked between them then at Jasmine, who was still crying on the couch. You tried to stand as you held your stomach, but you fell. You felt a gushing warmth between your legs, the smell of iron and bitter copper filled the air.

"Don't fuckin' touch 'er," Bo spat, his drawl heavy and laced with anger. "Touch 'at baby, I swear to God I'll kill you!"

Todd held up his hands slightly. "Let's talk--"

"Nah, we're done talkin'," Bo's voice harden as he looked at Todd. His eyes lingered over to you and his face fell; he knew he was too late. His gaze snapped back at Todd. "I'll take my time with sweet time with you, boy." He felt his heart beating in anger; he wants blood. He wants death. He wants you to get out of here. "Vincent," he snapped, his gun not moving. "Get Mama and kid outta here." He clinched his jaw as his eyes fell on Jasmine. He felt his world breaking as her little hands reached up for Vincent. "Jasmine doesn't need to see this."

Todd stood still, his hands still up. He stayed silent as he saw the dark haired man pick you up from the floor, helping you to your child.

"It's okay, sweetie," you choked out, your knees wobbling as you picked up Jasmine. "Mama's has you. You're okay... you're okay."

You felt a large hand support you as were led off to another room. It looked like a dinning room, and it looked just as dusty as the rest of the rooms. Your head was spinning as the pain from your stomach burned, blood falling. The crushing weight finally took over as you started to fall to your knees. Vincent's hands caught both you and the baby, and he lowered you to the floor. He pulled you close as your eyes became heavy. You rested Jasmine on your chest and held her. You relaxed to the sound of a gunshot from the other room.

**********

Bo stood over Todd after tying his hands together. He'll put him in the basement under the garage. It's meant for women, the chair, but he'll make an exception for him. The scum of the earth right under his boot wasn't going to crawl away that easy.

He turned his attention to the closed dinning room and hurried towards it. His head was racing for thought's of y/n and the child. He hoped Vincent got them far away--

His stomach dropped when he saw Vincent holding Jasmine, cradling her in his arms, and your head on his knees. When he looked past you, he saw your chest rising and falling out from pain and the bright red staining your pants. He felt sick to his stomach. If only he got here in time to stop it. If he didn't have to play the part of a dumb hick. If he told Vincent just to kill right as you walked through the door...

"Vincent." Bo watched Vincent's shoulder flinching upwards. He looked back to face him, and Bo's face fell. The little girl was sleeping in his arms, her face starting to return from crying. "Give me the babe. Carry y/n to the house. I need... need to call Les." He didn't know why he felt himself shake as he looked over y/n. He didn't know why there was a hole in his chest burning. He hated this. He hated Todd. He hated himself. "They need our help. They need help."

As soon as Vincent passed Jasmine to him to pick you up, Bo's heart broke. He looked between you and the baby as if he was yours, as if the child was his. His eyes fell over Jasmine as he held her close, swaying back and forth with her in his arms. Something clicked like a switch as he looked at Jasmine starting to fuss in his arms before to to sleep again. She was so small in his large arms, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in a blanket and lover her until the air in his chest was gone. He would kill for her. He would die for her. Either way, what bliss will he have.

He held her head close to his chest and shielded her away from Vincent as he lifted you off the ground. He was careful with your legs as he held you close. Vincent's mind circled over and over as he looked down at you. Why did he watch that long? What made him stay back to to watch it? He wanted to find an answer, any answer to satisfy his racing thoughts, but he found thing to calm his nerves. He found nothing special to make his stop to ache in his arms as he followed Bo to the house. The baby was gone, and it's fault. All his fault.

Both shared the blame as they walk you to the house in silence.

[miramilocamimira]

Mourning

For @z-eusie

Zeus remembers mourning. Back when he was young, just barely old enough for the nymphs and Kouretes to no longer be adequate protection. Back when Gaia no longer let Metis meet him, when the perils of war made him miss its absence.

It was a fact of life. Mortals and gods both weep and grieve.

He frowns as he watches the humans from Olympus. Everyone had scattered after the solstice meeting and he’d found his feet guiding him to the edge. He supposed the break would do him well, taking a moment to look out and breathe.

Everyone had been on edge since Apollo’s return from his quests. Always glancing at Zeus and keeping him in sight lest he turn them mortal as well. It felt a little ridiculous.

It’s not like all of them lost control of something like, oh who knows, Delphi and needed an excuse to fix their domain of prophecy?

It is not until he feels the warmth of his hands on either arm that he realizes they moved from his sides.

He’d come so close to losing two of his children in such a short span of time. The mortals down below start rushing indoors as rain begins to fall. He feels his chest rise and shakes as the air leaves.

“Brother?” He hears and his hands tighten their grip. He’d thought Hades had left with the rest of them. His jaw feels tight and his lips won’t move. He thinks Hades might be saying something but he can't hear it and he just wants him to go away.

It'd be easier, wouldn't it? If Hades would just leave. Or accuse him of being heartless as Hera had done. Of being uncaring or cruel because he does not mourn as she does.

Zeus knows she doesn't mean it. She’s just angry that they couldn't change Jason’s fate.

Just like with Sarpedon.

There's a distant sound. He knows it’s not thunder for he'd have felt it. Something presses into his cheek and he has to blink to refocus.

His brother is in front of him now- and he is kneeling, both hands reach out towards Zeus. He doesn't know how or when or why he ended up sitting down nor how Hades ended up like this.

His brother is still speaking- the sound he’d heard most likely and the hand not against his face is tugging at one of Zeus’ own.

The sky god lets his hand fall to Hades’ grasp and notes the gold around his nails. His other hand is the same way when he moves it from his arm and the stinging starts.

“Ha…des?” His own voice sounds foreign. Its hoarse. Scratchy and so unbelievably dry. He hadn't realized his mouth was so dry. His brother looks both relieved and concerned. “What… what are you doing?”

Zeus watches as dark eyes widen. Hades snatches his hand back and weirdly enough, there's red on it. It trails down his brothers hand and makes him so aware of how wet his face is.

“You wouldn't answer me. I called out and you just… stood there.” Hades’ voice shakes. “When I got up to you, your nails had cut into your skin and you were crying…”

“Blood?” He interrupts, adding in as much sarcasm he can muster. “Think I could score a horror movie role?” The elder god narrows his eyes and Zeus is all too observant of how the other’s hands clench.

“This is serious. You wouldn't respond, Zeus, you had to be dragged over here!” He feels his body stiffen as his brother raises his voice. Hades practically deflates at it. “I don't know what happened but I do know that you only cried blood once before.”

“Then you do know what happened.”

“That doesn't- its not-” The god gestures to Zeus and it is not really hard to figure out what he means. He doesn't have the words to describe it. He doesn't even know what it is anyways.

Hades doesn't look like he believes him when he says so.

A shame but Zeus doesn't speak again.

The silence is uncomfortable as he is now aware of each cut leaking ichor and his face grows sticky with blood. He wants Hades to move so he can get it off. However… his brother hasn't moved and keeps glancing between Zeus’ face and arms.

“Has this happened before?” Zeus nods. Hera was aware of it. As are Hebe and Ganymede. He doesn't think his wife would be very willing to help him right now and he doesn't want to bother her more while she’s grieving.

Ganymede freaks out everytime and makes it a much bigger deal than it is but Hebe… Hebe typically just makes sure they are both sitting and waits for him to come back. Sometimes she just talks and then he joins in or they sit in silence until she’s sure he’s okay.

He's tired. His body feels heavier than it should, the ichor and tears make him want to shower and be clean.

He can see Hades wants an answer. An actual one. He knows that his brother is going to want to talk this out.

He can't. He’s so exhausted that his eyes hurt.

“Hades please,” Zeus says when his brother opens his mouth again. “I don't know what it is. Yes its happened before. And no, I don't want to talk about it now.”

“Will you talk about it later then?”

It’s such a simple question. And he hates it. He has to talk, he knows. Hades wants- needs- no, deserves an answer as to why Zeus ended up scaring him.

And he did scare him. Its clear now, while he can think, from how Hades’ hands are still readied in case Zeus starts hurting himself again. From how his brother still hasn't moved and is still keeping his eyes on his own.

“I will, brother, just not now.” Hades stares and only moves to let Zeus up after he’s found whatever he's searched for.

Zeus waits until Hades leaves and falls back when he tries to stand. It takes a couple tried but when his legs are no longer weak, he heads to his room.

At least he’ll have a bit of peace before everything.

[hjparisian]

need you to fill the void pt. II- harry j potter x reader

link for part I pairing: harry j potter x reader w: angsty, swear words, the tiniest mentions of fucking, some fluff a/n: i did not expect this to be so long, but i hope it's alright

It's been over a month since (Y/N) was last with Harry. After the last time Harry came in begging for comfort, (Y/N) woke to an empty space next to them, Harry no where to be seen. Any hope they had about him staying with them was gone.

(Y/N) tried to put their focus elsewhere, towards school, really anything. It was difficult. Though hope was lost, they couldn't help but think about Harry. He was such a significant part of their life and without him it just felt there was a hole in them. a void only he could fix.

Unfortunately, his presence was back with Ginny Weasley, having seen them together in the Great Hall the following day. There wasn't anything (Y/N) could do, other than try to move on. But could anyone truly move on from "The Boy Who Lived?" Especially when it felt like he was the best thing they ever had?

(Y/N) felt like they were slowly and surely improving despite the occasional thoughts about it. But all that progress came crashing the moment a certain scar faced boy stood right in front of them at the library.

"Hey." The first word Harry has said to them in a while, was 'hey'? (Y/N) did not dare to look up, spitting out the words "What do you want Potter?"

"I- er- just wanted to see how you were." Harry said. (Y/N) stopped writing, suddenly feeling the pent up anger coming out. "You wanna see how I'M doing? After not even talking to me for practically a month?" They spat out. A loud "SHHH" could be heard from Madam Pince, glaring at the two. (Y/N) gave a tight lipped smile, mouthing the words "Sorry" towards her before looking back at Harry. "If that's all you want, you can leave, I'm busy."

"C'mon (Y/N) I just wanted to talk-" They cut him off. "Oh really? seems like you weren't much into talking to me lately." Harry stares at them, "(Y/N)-" "You know what, I'm leaving, I can't concentrate."

(Y/N) gathers their stuff and exits the library, wanting to get away from the boy who hurt them. Harry stands there, longingly gazing at them as they leave.

The next week was an odd one to (Y/N). They kept feeling someone's eyes on them and when they turn to look, the culprit seem to always be Harry, who would look away with a flush on his cheeks from embarrassment of being caught. Then there was Harry walking up to them trying to have a talk, but (Y/N) would always ignore him, walking past him or avoid him by going the opposite direction. Then there was the notes they would find out of no where saying stuff like 'hey i miss you', 'how are you doing', 'can we please talk'. They would either end up in the trash or at the very bottom of (Y/N)'s bag.

(Y/N) sat in their dorm room reading a book until there was knock on their door. Their dorm mates were out and wouldn't come back til the next day since it was the weekend, which left (Y/N) confused on who it could be.

They opened the door to find Harry on the other side. When (Y/N) met Harry's eyes, it looked like they shined a little brighter in that moment. Harry start to speak, "He-" BAM. Slamming the door closed. (Y/N) just stood there.

There was another knock, "(Y/N) please open the door, I just want to talk!" (Y/N) yelled back. "Go away Harry! I don't want to talk!" Harry spoke. "Please (Y/N). I'm not leaving til you let me in to talk to you." "Oh well, that sucks."

They could hear Harry sigh heavily. "(Y/N) I'll blow your door down if you don't open it in three, two, on-" The door opens, revealing an angry (Y/N). "Make it quick," they say. "Let's just get your nonsense over with."

Harry walks inside, (Y/N) closing the door behind him. He takes a second to look at the room he hasn't stepped into since over a month ago. His eyes land on (Y/N), who crosses their arms before opening their mouth, "Well? What do you want?"

He felt the nerves crawl inside him. "Well um. I just wanted to say that, I-I really miss you (Y/N). And I'm sorry." He stares at them, scared for their reaction, which in all honesty he should be.

(Y/N) felt themselves fuming. "That's it? That's all you wanted to say?" Merlin forbid they get a heartfelt apology. "What now? I accept your apology, we fuck, and then you go back to Ginny and ignore me again?" (Y/N) screams.

Harry opens his mouth to say something but (Y/N) cuts him off. "You know Harry, I'm sick and tired of this." He sees the tears flowing from (Y/N)'s eyes as they scream. "I'm so tired of being the other woman. I love you Harry. Do you know how much it hurts seeing you with Cho and Ginny? To see that the one I love doesn't love me back? It hurts Harry! I hate how you make me feel."

"I'm done Harry! I'm tired of the pain. Just go back and fuck Ginny and leave me alone!" (Y/N) sobs heavily and tries pushing Harry to the doors, overwhelmed with their emotions.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) stop! I cut it off with Ginny!" Harry tells them, lightly grabbing their arms. (Y/N) stops and stares at him.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" They ask, not completely trusting Harry.

Harry talks, "I cut it off a week after we last got together. You can ask Hermione, she knows. Have you ever seen me and Ginny together within the past couple weeks?"

(Y/N) takes a second to think. The only time they saw Harry and Ginny together was after they last had sex. They never really saw them together after that. (Y/N) shakes their head no.

"See? (Y/N), I truly love you, I do. I really am sorry that I hurt you," Harry says. "I just never realized it til just recently and I didn't think you'd feel the same. Do you think you could give me and chance and let me make it up to you?"

(Y/N) wasn't sure how to feel. They did feel happy that Harry likes them, but he still hurt them, even if it was unintentionally.

"I don't know Harry, it still hurts that you'd always go back to someone else when we were done. And you'd never stay the night with me. How can I be so sure you won't leave me again?"

Harry grabs their hands, holding them gently, and looks at them. "(Y/N), I promise that I'll never leave you. I never want to be the one that hurts your heart again. I'll do anything for you. I would even do your potions homework for you."

They chuckled. "No offense, you're absolute rubbish at potions." Harry laughs as well. "Well I'd do anything to make sure it would come out better than my homework."

They both laughed for a bit before making eye contact with each other. (Y/N) could see how vibrant Harry's eyes were. They were as green as the forests. They could rival emeralds (though (Y/N) would much rather have Harry than the emeralds). Harry saw how beautiful (Y/N)'s eyes were too. Sparkling from the tears they let out a few moments ago. They were like the stars in the night sky. He could get lost in them forever.

Harry started to lean forward, closing his eyes. (Y/N) followed suit. Harry's hands moving to (Y/N)'s waist while their hands went to his shoulders. Their lips met. This kiss felt much different than the ones they had before. It felt more loving. Caring. It felt soft. It was better than any other kiss they had. Cause it was out of love rather than lust.

The two left each other's lips, taking a moment to admire each other before Harry spoke. "Does this mean you'll give me a chance?" He smiles hopefully.

(Y/N) nods. "Yes." Harry let out a grin and hugged them. "I swear on my life I won't hurt you again."

He lets go. "I should probably go. It's getting late and I don't really need another detention from Filch." He turns to go before (Y/N) grabs his wrist.

"Wait Harry. Do you think you could stay the night? So you don't have to risk being caught by Filch." They shyly asked. "My dorm mates will be gone for the night and they probably wouldn't mind anyway. I have some of your clothes here too so you don't have to fall asleep in what you're wearing."

"I'd like that," Harry says with a smile.

The two got ready for bed, slipping under the covers of (Y/N)'s bed. Harry holds them in his arms while they laid on his chest. Feeling at home with each other. The void in each other's hearts was now filled with their love.

Harry looks at (Y/N), admiring them. "I love you."

(Y/N) mumbles, "I love you too, Harry," before drifting off to sleep with their lover.

[ferrocyan]

division - for the single word drabble prompt!

thanks for the prompt! i gotta admit to just, uh, kinda running w this vibe bc it sort of fits my obsession with the edw caster role quest, haha. this is really unpolished but i hope you enjoy!

--

he hears someone walk near, each of their footsteps carrying a throb of pain in his head.

"how are you, my friend? are you feeling better?" aymeric asks.

his eyes closed, brows knit in concentration, he chants for equilibrium. deep breaths, inhale, exhale.

nothing. there is a hole in his head, though not physical, and its gaping maw tears at the rest of his mind.

"c'astarhte," aymeric calls. tart opens an eye.

"so you know," he huffs.

"yes. i know that you don't want me to notice. but i must say, hiding your face only makes your identity more obvious."

aymeric's smile is irritating. tart buries his head under his pillow, which earns him a sigh.

"for once, please just let me know how you feel," begs the lord speaker.

tart considers. this is not something equilibrium can fix; neither can chirurgeons. the ache howls, echoing the blasphemy that caused it. he props himself up on his elbow. glaring at aymeric, he grits his teeth and lets out the words.

"ishgard has ways of denying certain people's existnce. mean really, completely erase them, unlike the shite that bishop was spewing about himself. my family no longer exists. how dare he accuse me of not understanding how it feels to be rejected? and how dare you take my prey?"

aymeric listens. he makes people understand, even without telling them, that he has heard and understood their words. he excels at his job in this way.

but this isn't work. "even after cutting down bishop vartinoix, for a moment i felt the presence of danger behind me," his jaws set, aymeric purses his lips before continuing, "the presence of another blasphemy. and even now, your aether is unstable, partly burned off. that means that you would have joined your prey had i not intervened. am i wrong?"

tart conceals his surprise with a scowl, but the flapping of his ears gives it away. so the lord commander bites back now. "settle this outside. now," he gets up and off the bed, then walks out of the infirmary.

aymeric follows, uncertain. "have i crossed a line?" he asks. tart ignores him. the two enter the proving grounds, empty for the day.

"have been dealing with this for a while. aetheric instability." tart puts on his coat and hood, then unsheathes his rapier. "practicing red magic helps in finding balance. but need a target dummy, of course, which is you," points at aymeric, who chuckles in return.

tart holds his focus in his right hand, blade in the left. his tail flicks uneasily. "go easy on me, won't you?"

"what? oh my, i never thought i would hear that from the warrior of light!" aymeric laughs as he readies his own sword.

"i'm ill, you blackguard."

"then maybe you should rest properly."

"hasn't helped. this might, so stand still and let me cast magic at you."

aymeric nods. tart kicks off the fight by stepping back and keeping his distance. throws quick spells and darts away.

it's clear he isn't serious either as none of the attacks amount to much to aymeric. he approaches and returns the offense.

tart blocks his sword with his own. the strikes are heavy, and his defensive tendencies fail him. he starts to parry, then evade, stepping aside to chant a spell and strike back. he laughs, pleased with himself.

aymeric picks up his pace. his azure blade flashes as he strikes close to tart, again and again, but none reaches. tart grins wider.

focus attached to the rapier's hilt, its magic flows through the thin sword. tart stops evading and rushes toward aymeric. spells now strengthening his blow, he pushes back against the lord commander. finally, a feint and a low strike manage to disarm him.

aymeric drops his sword obligingly. "well done, my friend! you really are magnificent."

tart rolls his eyes even though he can't stop grinning. "say that when you aren't taking it easy against me."

"please, any such notion was dispelled by your swordmanship. i took our battle seriously, i assure you," aymeric chuckles. the two of them sheathe their swords and exit together.

he really does feel lighter, tart thinks to himself. his head has quieted down. he considers thanking aymeric for his help, but refrains since it would make him happy.

on their return to the temple knights' strategy room, tart glances toward his companion. "not scared i'll turn into a blasphemy too?"

"no. are you?" aymeric asks in return. tart looks away. "i refuse to accept that--if you'll pardon me for saying so." that earns him a bark of laughter.

"right. get out of my sight, then," tart swats at him with his tail. "find me at the forgotten knight if anything comes up."

aymeric nods. "certainly. but please do try to take it easy for the rest of the day."

tart pays him no mind and waves goodbye.

[fawnclangen]

A Rogue Problem

Moon - 1

Age - 0

Warm rays filter through branches and warm the forest below. Fresh dew trickles off of large leafy ferns and moistens the grass. Shadows stretch and warp around trees and tangles of plants. damp paws rumble through the undergrowth as the dawn patrol bursts through the foliage and further out into Fawnclan's territory. Thankfully, only the smell of decaying plant matter and mud reaches the patrol's nose and scent glands. Lizardspots, the deputy entrusted with this mission, was comforted by the familiar smell. Rogues had been muddying the border recently, coming and going as they pleased. The thought alone caused a growl to build in Lizardspots' throat.

The other cats shared similar determined expressions except for Cinderpaw, a speckled dark gray she-cat apprentice with lighter gray around her muzzle and paws. Her expression was unreadable but her unsheathed claws dug into the dirt with each stride. She followed closely behind the patrol as they bounded deeper into the forest, branches and large leaves dragging against all their pelts as they swiftly entered and exited elaborate trodden down and carved through paths taken by countless patrols before.

The rhythm of their strides, leaps, and bounds only ceased when Lizardspots skidded to a stop. The sharp tang of blood practically slammed into the roof of her mouth and assaulted her nose. She raised her tail to signal for the patrol to stop as if they already hadn't.

"Why have we stopped?" A low voice in what was nearly a growl practically sounded booming in the startled silence. "It's just blood. A battle took place here some time ago."

The cat who spoke up was Froststripe, A long furred black cat with light gray stripes and a matching colored mask pattern. His piercing light blue eyes burned into Lizardspots, awaiting her response.

"Because this battle was recent. A time we didn't have patrols out." Cinderpaw spoke up indignantly. Alarmed eyes landed on Cinderpaw, then gazed to Lizardspots. An apprentice speaking over her mentor was a bold move, but Lizardspots only dipped her head to Cinderpaw. "Excellent observation."

Froststripe felt a growl building in his throat, but Lizardspots spoke first. "Fan out everyone, look for stragglers. Drive them out!" The cats fanned out as commanded, quickly trotting away from the situation except for Froststripe, who slinked away into the dark undergrowth. Cinderpaw's dull green eyes fixed on him before she bounded after him. At the possibility of battle, claws were unsheathed and the atmosphere became thick with anticipation.

Traces of blood were splattered in the grass haphazardly, chunks of stained fur found caught in plants and tangled in foliage, and a stray claw that had been ripped from its owner's paw were all found and reported, but no reports of rogue cats. Only their muddy scents stained the area. Lizardspots was ready to return to camp empty pawed when Froststripe trotted up to her.

"Lizardspots! Cinderpaw has found something."

"And why hasn't she reported it herself?" Lizardspots asked curiously. Certainly Cinderpaw would take pride in appeasing her mentor, she thought.

"I don't know." Froststripe admitted with an annoyed tone. "Better go and see her though." He grumbled, turning around to lead Lizardspots back to where Cinderpaw was. He didn't even bother waiting for an answer or looking over his shoulder. Lizardspots was following him though, he had no need to check if she was behind him.

He led Lizardspots to a secluded spot where the foliage became dense and pulled at her pelt as she tried to squeeze through. The sharp scent of blood assaulted her the strongest here. Her eyes laid on Cinderpaw, who was laying with her tail covering something leaning against her belly. Looking up, Lizardspots saw a sight that made her gasp. A cooling body of a cat was desperately fully outstretched on the ground, the paws and toes outstretched as if trying to grab someone or something. The face was twisted into a rage with the lip curled back and the eyes wide open. Their black pelt riddled with torn open wounds and stained even darker with drying blood.

"Cinderpaw! Get away from there!" Lizardspots' hackles raised and she hissed loudly. Beside her, Froststripe unsheathed his claws, ready to attack at a moments notice if any cat jumped out. But, the apprentice only slowly blinked at Lizardspots before her gaze fell on whatever was between her body and tail.

"Cinderpaw!" Lizardspots spat.

"I can't do that, Lizardspots." The apprentice spoke slowly. "They'll get cold." Her tail smoothly moved back behind her and revealed some kind of wet black ball against her stomach. Lizardspots barely had time to register what Cinderpaw was revealing before she spoke again.

"The cat back there is a rogue she-cat queen. She smells of milk. She must have been attacked while giving birth." Cinderpaw's eyes wandered back to the little wet ball. Lizardspots felt an uncomfortable sensation shake her spine. The little ball was a kit. He was so still and quiet that Lizardspots had mistaken him for some kind of fur tuft. Her mouth dried. What kind of monster would attack a queen? Especially during such a vulnerable, important moment!

"Is it alive?" Froststripe's voice spoke the thoughts that Lizardspots didn't dare speak.

"Yes. The chest is rising and falling. Breathing." Cinderpaw's expression was unreadable yet again, and Lizardspots wondered what goes on behind the apprentice's eyes during moments like this.

Lizardspots spoke before her thoughts could finish. "Stormsmoke! Icefeather!" She called. A she-cat with a pale gray pelt with pale ginger twisting through her fur quickly fought her way through the tightly woven plants and appeared with a wide-eyed expression. Her white belly fur was stained with dirt.

"Yes, Lizardstripe!" Icefeather reported for duty with twigs and thorns tangled in her fur. Shortly after Icefeather's arrival, Stormsmoke, a black smoke she-cat with white underfur and a black chin pressed through the thick leaves of the fern. She looked at Lizardstripe curiously, awaiting instruction. Lizardstripe looked at both of them in turn.

"Has Bluelight recovered from her kitting?" She asked.

"I don't know." Icefeather answered first. "Her birth was-"

Froststripe interrupted with a growl. "You can't be thinking of taking this kit back and giving it to Bluelight. She lost a lot of blood with her kitting, you heard Sunheart! She's in shock and has been for days!" His tail lashed aggressively.

Stormsmoke sighed. "Froststripe, we all care about Bluelight, your defense of her is honorable, but the warrior code says we can't ignore a kit in need."

Froststripe turned his gaze to Stormsmoke. "And we can't ignore a sick queen. Besides, the kit has rogue blood." His nose wrinkled.

Stormsmoke tilted her head. "Why don't we let Bluelight decide if she wants the kit."

Hope swirled in Lizardspots' chest. "Yes, Froststripe. I'm sure Bluelight will take the kit." She said quickly. "But."

Everyone's attention turned to Lizardspots. "Cinderpaw will carry the kit back and will help Bluelight with raising them." She announced. "As Cinderpaw seems so intent on being attached to them." Her gaze rested on Cinderpaw, who nodded solemnly.

Lizardspots turned back to the direction of Fawnclan's camp. "We return to camp Immediately!"

[betweenthings2]

holding hands during a stressful situation, it’s giving matty being nervous to fly or on a high ledge for some reason

Thank you for the ask!! The prompt list is here if anyone else wants to see it =) Poor Matty not liking flying--I love flying. The airport is the only place I can pay $15 for a beer at nine in the morning with the best and worst dressed people I've ever seen.

Anyways, here's holding hands in a stressful situation from the physical intimacy prompt list.

Matty has been on edge since they got to the airport. George knows he doesn't like flying, but he didn't realize it put Matty on edge like this. He hasn't stood still since they got to the airport, practically vibrating while they stood in line to check luggage and go through security, then pacing once they get to the terminal. They're early, partly a product of Matty's anxiety, so don't have a gate yet, but there's plenty of open seating and space in the terminal, but Matty can't be still enough to sit. George watches him pace for about fifteen minutes before physically making him sit down. Matty lasts about thirty seconds before he gets fidgety and gets back up.

George asks him to go for coffee in an effort to give him something to do. Matty probably doesn't really need any caffeine, but it's usually about a fifty-fifty shot as to whether or not caffeine will amp Matty up or almost knock him out. George is banking on the latter today. By the time Matty comes back, their gate has been announced, which George would have thought would have calmed him down some, but Matty is still just as on edge as he had been when they get to the gate.

It's not long before Matty's anxiety starts to earn him glares and glances from the other people waiting in line, so George takes his hand and pulls him close, murmuring, "You've got to relax, love."

Matty wrenches his hand free, stepping away, and glares. "Don't fucking tell me calm down. I'm fine."

"You haven't sat still since we got to the airport," George counters. "You're gonna exhaust yourself or you're gonna feel awful later."

"I'm fine," Matty insists.

George fixes him with a sad look and agrees, "'k."

The line moves forward a bit, then Matty steps close to George again and quietly admits, "I fucking hate flying."

George takes Matty's hand again, running a thumb over his knuckles, and says, "I know. Flying is really safe, though."

"Human beings are not supposed to fly," Matty grumbles. "It's a metal tube held up by witchcraft or some shit."

George can't help but smile and chuckle. "I'm pretty sure it's math and physics," he says. "And aerodynamics."

"Witchcraft," Matty counters, shuffling forward as the boarding line begins moving again.

George presses a quick kiss to Matty's temple and agrees, "Whatever you say."

Matty keeps himself close to George as the line begins moving again, moving and letting go of his hand only when it's time for them to show their boarding passes and their passports. He's quick to take George's hand again, holding a little bit tighter as they head down the jetway. He only lets go when they get to the door of the plane, George urging Matty to go first.

Matty's nervous fidgeting is quick to return when they finally sit down and he's quick to take George's hand again. George feels for him, they have a ten hour flight and a photoshoot when they land and Matty is liable to be tense and stressed the whole time. George just isn't sure how to help.

"This is stupid," Matty mumbles. "What the fuck is a seat cushion supposed to do when the plane crashes in the ocean?"

George glances up, seeing Matty glancing over the safety pamphlet. He's like this just about every time they get on a plane, though, and George has learned to just let him share his thoughts.

"You know you used to be able to smoke on planes?" Matty continues, tucking the pamphlet away. "Why they'd get rid of that? I'd feel better if they brought that back."

George can't help but chuckle again and he runs his thumb over Matty's knuckles again, saying, "'s probably a safety hazard."

"So they want me to just freak out instead?"

"How many planes have you been on and been just fine?" George tries.

"Yeah, but what if this is the time it's not fine?" Matty says quietly, clinging to George's hand.

"I think it's going to be ok," George offers. "I think we're going to get to LA and we'll be fine."

"I just don't like it," Matty admits, gaze falling to their hands. "And I don't like not liking it."

"I know," George murmurs. "I'm sorry this stresses you out so much."

"Thanks," Matty mumbles, resting his head against George's shoulder. "Sorry for being so annoying today."

"You're not annoying," George counters. "You're allowed to be stressed. That's ok."

"Still," Matty insists.

George presses another kiss into Matty's curls and quietly says, "'s all ok. Promise."

[saiakv]

“ look, i don’t know what happened to you. and i don’t need you to tell me, okay? i don’t… i just want you to know that i’m here. i got you. no matter what. and if you need some space, then… then i can leave. just tell me what you need, okay? “

THE LOUDEST SILENCE : accepting

He had spent a long time in bed that morning, blankly counting the dark spots on the ceiling boards. The sound of birds chirping outside accompanied the lonesome strum of a koto from the schoolyard and a smell of cooked food was carried on the spring breeze. It was almost nostalgic. But Suguru was not sure what it was that he was missing. A lost innocence, perhaps?

That's hardly something that should be missed, he had been thinking, when a knock snapped him from those thoughts. Immediately, he sinks in shame — the room is a cluttered mess around him, his hair is frizzy and out of place, his T-shirt stained. He doesn't want to know what the mark of his night sweats smells like to another person. He feels as though he has been caught red handed in a crime that he probably committed, but does not recall.

The second time has his shoulders jump, foot slowly slipping off of the windowsill as he puts the cigarette out with a concerned expression — Nanami's voice calls out to him from the other side of the door. Suguru hovers amidst his own room for a second, gaze darting to the piles of clothes dumped over his desk, to the books blocking his chair, to the pile of laundry he never took to the washing room. His phone begins to ring. He looks at the screen light up to the date just as Nanami calls for him again, this time asking if he's in.

With trepidation, a step closer to the door. And then another and another; and his lips mouth the words in practice.

I'm sorry, I don't think I can come.

The handle twists and Suguru puts on a visibly laborious smile. He has no idea what he looks like in that moment, but the look on Nanami's face tells him all he needs to know. His palm comes up to shield his eyes from the sun; betraying how he hasn't left his room in over a day. Well, the smell exuded from it would attest to that, as well. He notes how Nanami's expression wrinkles with suspicion and he subtly moves to the side as if to peer past Suguru's shoulder; a glimpse of the mess within was most certainly stolen before the room's owner moves aside and pulls the door closer to himself, barely allowing for an opening.

❝ — will you tell Haibara I'm sorry, Kento-kun? I feel a little under the weather. I don't want to get him sick on his birthday. ❞ He pretends his voice does not sound drowsy but rather scratchy from a sore throat. Violet eyes fix on the floor as Nanami begins to talk and Suguru's shame overspills from his gaze. Shame; shame. For being so weak. So weak that he would end up worrying his juniors — so weak in the eyes of those he was supposed to uplift and inspire. And protect.

But now he was beginning to question who he was protecting them from. Where he had once been batting his tail upstream day after day, now he was idly floating in stale tank water. And it showed. In Suguru's eyes, his stagnation showed. At least a flush of shame brought some color to his pallid mien.

Still, he could not help but perk up with the care expressed; the two of them having been close, as senpai and kohai if nothing else. Mostly, he felt bad for worrying him, for knowing that Nanami would then be burdened with his own secret. A heartfelt smile bloomed on his features, just as a heavy hand landed on his junior's shoulder with a pat that was meant to be reassuring.

❝ I'm your senior, Nanami. Thank you, but you shouldn't be the one worrying about me. I would feel much better if I knew you were out having fun tonight. You deserve that, when you guys work so hard every day. ❞ Beyond their level, even. The shame cracked his voice and he was quick to clear his throat and blame it on the supposed sickness. But that smile lingered. Suguru's spirits almost seemed a little rekindled, or maybe Kento's words had jump-started him to try a little harder and not let the extent of his defect show. The ugly side of it. The one that couldn't be played off as him being "mysterious" and "broody". With a soft hum, he reached out to flick the button on Nanami's jacket and flick some hair away from his face. And Suguru chuckles in a boyish fashion.

❝ Nice jacket. Make sure to leave some girls for Haibara too, you playboy. ❞

[fluffykitteninabox]

¿What are your thoughts on the controversial Hagakure cover?

Hi cute question mark anon ✨✨✨

I don't think this is a separate issue from how Horikoshi handles his female characters in general so I'm going to talk more generally rant a bit (oops sorry)

also one reason this took so long is that I decided to join in the trend and gave the poor girl some clothes:

The sexualisation of female characters in anime and manga is a big issue, especially when a big portion of them are underage (shonen is the most popular genre after all).

In my hero academia we see this with basically every single female character Horikoshi creates.

Momo, Hagakure, Himiko and Midnight all have "excuses" by the story to get naked on screen regularly. Supposedly it's because of their quirks, however there's plenty of male characters who's clothes don't get destroyed in every fight they're in, even if it would logically make sense for that to happen.

Male characters get to keep their dignity, but females don't get that same privilege.

The only male character that we see get fully naked because of their quirk is Mirio, but that's only one instance, and in every scene after that we get the explanation that he got a special costume made from his hair. If that's an option for him, why isn't it for Hagakure? Why does she have to run around naked in battle? Why do we need "jokes" about others accidentally touching her boobs because they didn't see her? We don't need that, she's a teenager!

Then there's Momo's design which is not only disgusting, but also doesn't make logical sense either. Supposedly the opening at the front is for practicality.

She "needs" to have big areas of skin open to make bigger objects.

Except that's a lie. We never really see her use the boob window for that. She mostly uses her arms to make things. And the biggest space she could have open for big objects is her back. And we actually see her use her back (and destroying her clothes in the process because of course she did!)

Most of the time when a female character is naked she gets objectified by the narrative and/or the framing/camera movement in a scene, while when a male character is naked it works as a form of fantasy fulfillment for the male target audience. I think this is part of "the male gaze" and not separate from it.

Here's a great video about this topic.

There's also the issue of Mineta's entire existence!

Mineta is the other reason I took so long to answer, because I went on tangent about how the concept for his character could have worked, and how I would have fixed it. But I realised this doesn't fit here so I took it out. (I might make a separate post about this)

This character (that Horikoshi has apparently admitted is a form of self insert) exists purely to objectify every single female character that's on screen. Every scene he's in, every line of dialogue he has adds no value to the story. He's supposedly there for comic relief, but most normal people don't find blatant sexism funny.

Some might say "oh but he gets punished for it. it's supposed to show how bad that is". Well yes but actually no. Mineta gets punished for his behaviour, but the viewers still get to see naked underage anime girls on screen. It's not a subversion of the trope if you're still doing the trope.

and Mineta's "jokes" get progressively worse as time goes on, which to me shows that this really isn't about the subversion of tropes/meta humour. It's just an excuse to sexualise female characters.

Thankfully this has seemingly stopped now (after the awful "joke" with Eri) presumably because Hori got backlash for it. He should have been getting backlash from the start but better late than never I suppose.

However Horikoshi hasn't (as far as I know) officially apologised for this. Even if he did stop inserting such jokes into the story, he clearly continued sexualising his female characters behind closed doors.

The Hagakure colour page is the culmination of all of those previous instances.

Horikoshi was able to freely sexualise underage female characters in his series time and time again with little to no backlash, because this type of thing is normalised in anime. So it makes sense that as this went on and he saw how much he was able to get away with, he kept doing it.

The page is truly disgusting to look at. Besides being completely naked there's also the pose itself, the weird barely there censors in the form of "keep out" tape of all things, but also something that I haven't seen anyone else talk about.

Her hand placement always felt weird to me. Even if she was wearing clothes, showing her hands in between her legs like that looks overtly sexual. It also creates this strong "V" shape, that deliberately directs the viewer's eyes downward towards that area instead of directing them up towards her face. (That's why I changed her hands to rest on top of her legs in my redraw)

Horikoshi is a professional artist, he knows what he's doing and he is known for his really intresting character designs. In this colour page, Hagakure is a sexual object first and a character second.

This is why Horikoshi's statement of "wanting to test her colour scheme" rings hollow to me. When you want to test what colours go well on a character you draw multiple versions of them and you basically play dress up by putting them in different outfits and changing the colours around. If he wanted to just test her hair and eyes, he could have just done a portrait from the neck and up.

The way I see it, this is clearly just a poor excuse to avoid responsibility.

The issue isn't just Horikoshi himself, it's about how the sexualisation of women (underage or not) in anime is so normalised that it is presented as "part of the culture", and if you complain about it people will tell that "this is just how anime/Japan is" and that "you should just accept it"

If "part of a culture" promotes sexism then this is an objectively bad thing and said culture SHOULD be changed.

[yung-terps]

A stream of consciousness. Not a new realization but I check in on distanced people more than they check in on me. I think I have come up with some ideas to play around with for a new poem! A little stoked because I haven't written one in awhile. Keep accidentally hanging out with dudes who ultimately just want to have sex. The benefit of the doubt hardly ever benefits me. There was one cool dude this past week, I guess. The thing is, when they skirt around their intentions, I kind of get off on getting them to just like. Voice it aloud. At some point during the night, I learn he is moving across the damn ass country soon and take note, considering I want something long-term. Later we start to makeout and it's fun, it's whatever. I like kissing. We break away after a little bit and I suggest that we walk to the corner store. He agrees, slipping in an "after". After what? Answer the question. And he eventually did. I want to fuck you. Surprise. He didn't even finger me. It was fine. See you never. My roommate is home from a 2-month thing. I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom... all of its nooks and crannies... I hope they feel welcomed! Still some stuff I want to hang and touch-up, all easily overlooked though. They are my secrets. Things just need to look lived in now. It's all too.... untouched... even though in actuality I spent the last few hours putting my hands all over everything. Arguably the most I have in a long time. Dusting and placing and rotating. You get it though... the living room needs to be hung out in.... broken in. I'm sure the suitcases have already made the place feel less... sterilized and proper... no longer like a set. The overhead lighting in the kitchen is harsh, always has been... often takes me out of reality! I have an idea to hang these paper pyramid-like string lights that I have had for years and years. Some are beat-up but I think it would add to the space... give us more options... and it just would be cute. Before my shower I removed the stain glass lightbulb, only leaving in two small red ones. Stood there, the water nice and hot. Sat on the tub floor. Closed my eyes. Leaned forward. Listened to the music I chose. Got out, screwed the loose bulb back in. I have an ongoing joke with myself that I will find my missing hard drive in a stupid silly fucking place, coping about it an entire year later. I noticed that I had some board games that were still taped shut from when I moved. Laughed with myself about the possibilities and opened them up. I am still holding out hope but no luck this time! I may knock on my old front door one day. I kind of resent the new owners for buying my home though. And how quick it all was. Like, get fucked, but also can I please have my hard drive? I mean, if it's in there. What I did find was a pile of half-used notepad sheets for a game that hasn't been played in forever. Some of them were drawn on by people I no longer speak to. One had a doodle done by my ex-boyfriend. It's weird to think about how I have lived, like, thirteen different lives. I think I would forgive a lot of people. Or even apologize to them. I also found two 8-in-1 retractable ballpoint pens. So, like, some treasure and a lot of thoughts. I did a little bit of glueing and taping and messing around in my journal. I feel I am doing okay in a very general sense. Trying my best and keeping up. I could do better. Can't we all though? Is that a cop-out? I don't care about money, I don't know, it's just practically all my parents would argue about in front of us. I don't care as long as my shit gets paid on time. But I think I have to shift gears and thought processes because I would like to live a little more comfortably, ultimately concerning myself with it less. Gonna look over my resume. Keep going, keep busy. Try to slim down my closet. Fix my camera. Maybe it did end up working on my last trip. Do this and that. Keep on playing Tears of the Kingdom and text dudes less. There's more passion involved with the former. Used used used. Wondering. Navigating. October is almost here.

[zster14]

Rex kept flipping though his tome, trying to figure out just how something like this could happen.

Linne stared at his hands, ocassionly flexing his fingers like he didn't recognize them. It was probably because the tips of his fingers were slowly turning black, staring along his finger nails.

Faral huffed through his nose, sword resting on the table between them. "Found anything yet?" He asked, tapping his fingers in the table.

Rex didn't look up from his tome. "No. This isn't how magic works, or at least, not how our magic works."

Linne twisted his hands to look at the backs, flexing his fingers thoughtfully. "So, I have powers now?" He asked, looking at Rex.

"Yes," Rex bit out shortly.

Faral snorted. "Great and terrible powers." He added wryly.

Linne's face scrunched with thought. Rex could practically smell smoke coming from his ears. Faral leaned over, mouth to Rex's ear.

"I'll bet you ten Linne accidently curses someone," faral murmered, sounding way too amused.

Rex smacked him away, scowling. "Stop that."

Linne pursed his lips. "If I have powers does that mean I can-"

"No," Rex cut off, glaring at Faral and Linne both. Linne's face fell, all wet eyes and trembling lip.

"But, I think I would-"

"No. You can't join our team." Rex said, firmer. "Your abilities are not suited for adventuring. Linne, do you even understand what powers you gained?"

Faral leaned back from the two of them, still looking too amused. Rex hooked his foot around the back of Faral's ankle and unseated him.

"Fuc-!" Faral swore as he fell onto his back.

Linne opened and closed his mouth, looking chagrined. "..no." He admitted, looking down at his blackening hands.

"The darklord's power is not the sort of power you can use day to day." Rex explained, "It's a nasty combination of blight and curse magic. All its capable of is hurting large groups of people. Why else do you think we were sent to kill him?"

Linne blinked dumbly at Rex, brown eyes slowly darkening to the same black state if the dark lord. "Blight?" He asked hesitantly.

"Dead crops," Faral offered, punching Rex in the shoulder as he sat back next to him.

"Oh," Linne murmured. "My father had been complaining about the harvest. Can't I use it for other things?"

Rex and Faral shook their heads. "Your lucky the magic hasn't killed you outright. It's old dark magic, old enough to have a bit of a personality." Rex said flatly. "I'm trying to extricate it, but this is... unprecedented."

"Oh." Linne said sinking down.

"Sorry, Linne." Faral soothed, patting his head. "Rex will fix you up in no time."

Rex elbowed his partner in the side as hard as he could. "Don't promise things I can't." He hissed.

"Don't knock me down." Faral hissed back, pinching him.

Linne stared down at his hands, before looking back at Rex. "Is this permanent?" He asked, raising his now tar black hands.

Rex and Faral exchanged a look. Rex thought about the dark lords hands after the last of his dark power left his body.

"Probably," Faral said.

"I know some good places to get gloves." Rex added, going back to his tome.

As the Dark Lord is slain, his power escapes his body and finds a new host… in the dumbest person you know.