#Do these people even know how hard it is to defend yourself against abusive parents

[estelleuse]

The sheer number of posts blaming Ford for the way Filbrick treated Stan makes my eye twitch so. bad.

What a way to make it the child's responsibility for how their parents treat them and their siblings. Like, they know that Ford ALSO grew up in an abusive environment and was abused too, right?? Apparently not oml

Don't even get me started on the science fair incident. Like, he had every right to be mad, and it wasn't Ford that threw Stan out. Blaming a child for not standing up to their abusive parents for their sibling seems to be rampant in the Gravity Falls fandom these days

[furiousgoldfish]

Ways abusive parents try to separate you from your human rights:

They threaten to call the police on you if you don't obey them

They threaten you with jail-time and insist that the police will take you away for disobedience

They actually call the police, or emergency services, to create consequences for disobedience

They threaten to 'give you away' to groups of people they deem 'worse' than themselves

They threaten that you'll be kidnapped and sold if you don't obey them

They threaten for you to be put in a home

They threaten you with inhumane living conditions in a home (you won't have you room, you won't have anything, they'll beat you up ever day, etc)

They threaten to institutionalize you if you don't do as they say

They threaten to put you in a mental hospital/psych ward/asylum

They threaten you with court, institutions and government

They convince you that every institution, social service, law enforcement, or any other organized group of people is on their side, and against you, and would fight on their side and enforce their rule over you

They act as if disobeying them is against the law/religion

They insist that nobody will ever want to hire you or pay you a salary

They imply or outright say that it's a waste of space if you were renting out a place or had a place of your own, you do not have the right to occupy your own space in their eyes

They take away your necessities if you disobey them (food, ability to use the bathroom, clothing)

They destroy your property as a form of revenge, and insist it never belonged to you and that they had every right to destroy it

They make sure you're not exposed to educational materials that would inform you that you have a right to safety, food, shelter, and protection from violence and threats

They fight very hard to convince you that what they're doing to you is NOT abuse (saying things like 'you don't even KNOW what abuse is, or 'I'll show you abuse'), and they make sure you're not exposed to any resources or education that would help you recognize abuse

Punishments for standing up for yourself or any attempts to reach justice or point out how unfair, inescapable, hypocritical and painful your situation is

Not allowing you to speak, punishing you for talking back, convincing you that you have no voice and you have no right to defend yourself in any measure

Exposing you to media or real-life situations where children are abused just as badly, or worse than you are, this is a part of grooming they do to convince you that child abuse is normal, acceptable behaviour and not abuse at all

Suggesting that they could do all this to you, and even outright threatening it, implying strongly they know they can get away with it, since others can

Convince you that everyone else has it worse, and repeat how lucky you actually are to have them

They list all of the things that would be happening to you if they weren't so kind to you (you'd be starving on the street, be kidnapped/sold/tortured, die from lack of resources, be abandoned, not survive in any possible way)

Convince you that you're not, in fact, a human being and thus have no business expecting human rights (brainwashing, calling you animal names, calling you demon/satan/monster)

Accuse you repeatedly of being a financial burden, shame you for costing money, demand credit/favours/services/labour/obedience in return for giving you survival resources like food and clothing and school supplies

Neglect to inform you that government is giving them a tax-break for every kid they're supporting and that the society is built so that children would be financially taken care of and do not need to earn their food, shelter or basic necessities

Scare you into believing that every other authority figure (teachers, boss, police, judge, authorities) would treat you even worse and would demand even a higher degree of obedience and submission from you, threaten you with how badly the interaction would go for you if you were to stand up to any other authority figure

Insist that if you were to act with this level of spite, refusal, rejection or disrespect to any other person, they would simply snap and kill you (implied death threat – you're lucky that I'm not ending your life right now)

Act like they own you, to the degree that they feel they have every right to end your life and would not be arrested or blamed if they were to kill you, since you're just their property

Add more if you have lived through other experiences that left you feeling like you had no protection, no rights in the eyes of the law, and no way to recognize your humans rights are being violated. Even one single item on this list means your human rights were kept from you.

[royallyquestionable]

There can’t be many people in the world who don’t know about Jeffrey Epstein and his friendship with Prince Andrew. There can’t be many people who don’t know about the accusations against Prince Andrew either.

Like many people, I find it infuriating that Andrew hasn’t faced any kind of real questioning. That he has been protected every single step of the way.

For any woman (or man for that matter), thinking about coming forward about sexual abuse, it’s just another situation which proves that it most likely isn’t worth the psychological trauma of being disbelieved and having your name dragged through the mud, while the perpetrator claims that you must have other motives or something wrong with you.

I’m not saying that abuse victims shouldn’t come forward. I’m simply saying that the system makes it feel like they shouldn’t bother. It makes it feel like a losing battle and that those who do find the strength and courage are incredibly brave and strong characters. Even if they don’t think they are, and probably don’t feel as though they are, they are an inspiration for many.

So, like many people, I already knew the story when I watched the Netflix show ‘Scoop’. I’d even watched the BBC interview when it first aired. Yet the show brought home something uncomfortable, which I’d seen the topic of several social media debates.

Why do Princess Beatrice & Eugenia still seem so close to their father? Why do they insist on standing by him?

It can be hard to put ourselves in their shoes but imagine for a moment, as uncomfortable as it might seem that this kind of accusation was lobbied against one of your own parents. A person who you loved and trusted. Someone you thought you knew inside out and felt like a source of strength and safety in your life.

No doubt it would cause hugely uncomfortable feelings of doubt. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself from wondering whether there was truth in it but to accept that there could be would blow apart everything you thought you knew about that person.

It would shake how you viewed everyone else around you if your view of that person had been so wrong. It would create so much self doubt. So perhaps, some people might disregard it and feel that there is no way it would be true.

Especially when you add in the next layer. Something which only somehow hit me while watching the Netflix show. Prince Andrew had taken Jeffrey Epstein, Harvey Weinstein and Ghislaine Maxwell along to Princess Beatrice’s 18th birthday party. A party which was no doubt filled with lots of young women.

So many Andrew defenders will say “innocent until proven guilty” but even if (and that’s a very big IF) he is innocent, it seems highly unlikely that he didn’t know about his friends penchant for young girls. He took the wolves right into the centre of a field full of prey. Prey that was his daughters and their friends.

That is a huge amount for any young woman to reckon with. Someone who they probably viewed as their rock and their safety net had in fact used them in such a vile way.

They should be angry. They should be furious. They should probably want to get as far away from him as they possibly can. But life isn’t that simple. Feelings aren’t that simple. Before any of that can happen, first they’d have to accept it and like many victims, that takes a lot of time and soul searching.

How many victims of sexual abuse don’t come forward to begin with because they spend so much time hating themselves first? Blaming themselves in some way? Finding it too much to admit to? Some never get past that and never come forward.

My take away from this show is that Beatrice & Eugenie are victims too. Perhaps not ever having hands laid upon them, but victims nonetheless.

[queerfox-tales]

* wandering thoughts rant related to what's happening with a certain wizard game out *

After so many posts made regarding the Harry Potter game coming out and how the person that created the series is harming the trans community, the game finally came out. I haven't seen myself many people talking about playing it but I have seen a couple and I'm not sure how to feel. A lot of people don't even realise that by buying the game, they're indirectly giving her money. One of the posts I saw was from such a person. I was surprised that they had gotten the game and made a comment. They thought that the creator only made money from the books. So now they know better but unfortunately the indirect support was still given. It's hard to hold it against them when they didn't understand the connection. Then I saw a post by someone defending themselves saying buying a game means nothing about sharing the same views. I commented and the person switched their argument to pretending they didn't know what they were supporting. *sarcasm* Ya, ok, obviously you're defending yourself for something you had no idea you did; totally makes sense. So that person clearly doesn't care and does support the creator to some degree.

Part of me wants to think about my society and how we're not taught the consequences of the companies/people we give our money to but mostly, when it comes down to it, people just don't care as long as something cost less or is cool. So my mind connects the situation to Disney and some of the political moves I've heard them making in the ... I can't remember if it was mainly Florida or U.S.A. but either way, they've been supporting legislation to harm the gay, and maybe even the whole queer, community.

I have a friend who's obsessed with Disney. I don't know if she knew about the Disney political stuff before I told her but she does now and hasn't stopped giving them money nor plans on stopping. It's confusing. I don't know how to feel.

The stuff I see on social media doesn't help. Half the people saying to stop supporting Disney one month are themselves raving about a new Disney show the next month. Plus there's the people, gay and not, giving Disney all this credit for finally admitting someone was gay in a movie or a show. Gay people are cheering on Disney and making them out to be a hero even though some are also fully aware of the political moves by them. It's so confusing. How am I supposed to be against everyone supporting Disney? It seems I'd have to hate like a majority of people, including gay people.

I still feel weird about the situation with my friend. It does hurt but I'm not sure if I want to end the friendship over it. Disney is a big part of her but mostly, and I know it's an excuse, I've just had so much worse in life. My mother is the kind of person who would force me into those conversion camps if she knew and had the money. I constantly have that over my head until I can be truly free from my parents. I haven't had friends who would physically harm me for any reason, especially being queer, but most have been abusive or just crappy. I'm down to 2 friends so letting another go isn't something I want to do but at the same time, ... I don't know. Back to the stuff before, what am I going to do? Stop talking to her for loving something sold by a company that she now knows financially supports hurting a group of people for being "different"? A company seemingly supported by half the gay community and given all the credit for gay representation as if no other show had ever done it or even tried?

Just thinking about it makes everything seem hopeless. The power and support that company has. And it won't ever go away. They're literally being supported by those they're destroying. I've even seen posts by gay people telling me to be thankful for what "Disney has done for us" "what they've given us". It's madness. The damn company is trying to remove their rights and they're bowing to the company and begging them to represent them more. Is this what society wants? To have some trait of theirs represented in popular cartoons even at the cost of their rights? This is their rights! Do people not understand or honestly not care? Media representation isn't going to do sh*t if it becomes illegal to do anything even perceived as gay in public or in one's own home again.

So ya, I'm just confused what to do. I still think it's wrong to knowingly support these companies and creators. It does say something about the person even if it's just that they don't care. But am I supposed to hate everyone that gives them money in some way? Everyone who chooses to beg Disney to add more queer characters or keep current queer shows rather than ask another big network to do it? You know, a network that hasn't been shown to financially support removing the rights of the same groups asking to be represented.

I feel like I'm fighting the group I want to defend. I've been in that position before in a much smaller context. It makes me want to just do nothing cuz I end up attacked by "both sides". I'm not strong enough to fight off both the ones hurting us and us. What am I supposed to do?

[statticscribbles]

Shocking

Summary: Sky High, Warren Peace/Reader, Warren rescues reader after reader has a power slip up

TW: Minor mentions of abuse

You were considered a hero, well at least by some and according to the scores on the entrance test you’d been given. Most people considered you just passing above the bar to stay out of sidekick territory. Which you were happy enough with anything that let you fly as close to under the radar so people didn’t notice why you’d flinch or cringe back if they spoke too loud or some struck out with their fist or powers.

Warren Peace notices, he keeps his voice low, keeps his arms tucked closer to his body, when he does move it’s slow and like he’s more caught up in thinking about it than actually moving. You know most of this is because of who his parents are.

Warren and you actually spend time talking; mostly because everyone is afraid of him so the more time you spend around him, the more they leave you alone, but you also can’t help that you’re starting to develop a bit of a crush on him.

When he asks you out you’re a little surprised that no one comments on it; he’s not obvious about it but you holding his hand after class and walking in the direction of his home is suspicious enough for people to watch you leave. 

“You sure you’re safe Y/N?” Magenta asks, you know she doesn’t mind Warren, a lot of the sidekicks actually like him; he’s a decent person and he leaves them alone so they do the same for him; still the word villain sticks hard.

“Much safer than I’d be at home.” You try to make it a joke but Magenta just nods a little, she was the only person besides yourself that knew what your dad did when you got home.

He’d been a hero when he was younger, but an injury and then the death of your mother had twisted him into a villain; not enough to terrorise anyone but you, he resented the powers you’d gotten, electrical control, like your mother. His healing factor was useful for what he needed, any bruises he caused or any welts raised by hitting you with the weapons he used to use were simply smoothed away by skin contact. It was as if they never happened in the first place, at least not to anyone who hadn’t seen the cause of the injury.

”Dad I didn’t..” You shuffle a little and he glares.

“You bring that no good villain trash around here! In my house!” He snarls and his hand moves up; what surprises you is your own moving at the same time; the same way Warren taught you to defend yourself. What you don’t count on is how your powers surge forward, how suddenly your house, and the entire block is cast in darkness, your hands sparking electricity.

“Look what you did now Y/N, they’re going to think he’s a bad influence on you, hurting your father; blacking out the block to escape…” You can hear the anger under the surface and swallow, nerves making sparks fizzle out from every pore on your body. It seems at least your phone is working and as your dad walks away you’re surprised to see that there’s a call currently going on, to Warren.

“Hey, uh, sorry must have power dialled you by accident..”

“I’m outside if you need me.” He mumbles back and you’re already stumbling to the door when he’s leaning against your porch. You know he’s heard everything and you’re not sure what you should say so you just let him pull you from the doorway and into his arms for a hug.

“Do you want to pack your stuff or come back tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, I just want to leave..” You try not to look at him, you know there will be a massive bruise on your face, your father hadn’t done his usual post fight healing.

Warren brings you back to his palace and you curl with him on the sofa until his mom gets home; you’re surprised to see her but he just explains it was easier to keep up the lie she had passed since everyone was always trying to figure out why she got with a villian.

Warren’s mother is more than happy to talk to you, she’s more than happy to fix up the spare bedroom, and even help with her powers, getting the full story, all of the truth out of you. She offers you the spare bedroom for as long as you need and if you end up sleeping next to Warren she doesn’t say anything about it the next day when you come from the same room for breakfast.

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[endobiologist]

Trans Guy Tips #4; Socially Transitioning

Now this one is a tricky one, and it's a situation almost every trans person has to go through at some point in their life, unless they stay in the closet for life, but if you're planning to come out, and you don't know how to approach the situation and don't know how to judge if it's safe, I hope I can be a reliable guide for you on this journey.

This is usually the first step in any trans person's journey, before they physically transition, (which some don't as well). However here we're talking specifically about trans men.

So while some of the things I say could apply to trans women, always remember I'm writing about trans men from a trans man's point of view, so that's the targeted demographic here.

Once I learn more about trans women's struggles and things they go through, since I don't have the personal experience of it, I will definitely write trans women articles as well, and as well non-binary people.

So let's begin, with a list of important things to keep in mind whilst coming out to the world or at least to your family and close friends.

1. Safety is everything.

Always no matter what.

A good way to test if someone is going to be safe to come out to, is to casually bring it up in in a conversation topic, something like "What are your thoughts on lgbtq people, or specifically what are your thoughts on trans people?"

If they become aggressive and violent about it, and start being transphobic or defensive or any of the signs of bigotry, do not and I mean do not come out to them yet.

If it's a parent, I'd suggest at least wait until you're of age to move out, or have moved out, to come out to them. Sometimes people will get verbally and physically violent towards you if you come out to them and they're not accepting of it, so the most important thing is to always judge the reactions of people, and if they react well, then you can come out to them.

2. Always choose trustworthy people to keep your secret whilst you're in the closet.

There's been a lot of people who trusted idiots who they thought were their friends and they ended up outing them to the whole school they were in, etc. etc. But there was a lot of stories about this happening multiple times.

Make sure the people you tell would take the secret to their grave, especially if you're in an abusive household and can't come out for fear of violence.

3. If you're in a very abusive household, especially one that's openly homophobic and transphobic, as hard it is, please wait to come out as long as you possibly can until you have a place of your own and you're safe for sure.

A lot of people have been known to kick out their own children on to the streets because of them being LGBT, or do much worse...

Now of course these are some of the worst case scenarios, but being LGBT you always have to think about every bad thing that could occur so that you can prevent it.

4. When it comes to actually coming out, I would always recommend bringing a good friend or close family member who supports you, so that you have backup, not only for them to chime in and tell their piece and defend you, but just them being there makes the other person not want to be as violent towards you, because they fear what others will think of them.

If you're coming out to an extended family member or anyone, don't trust to do it alone, always bring a good friend.

5. One of the best ways to come out that I've seen are ways that are jokey and hilarious!

It seems to smooth over and make it a much more pleasant transition for everyone, and usually even homophobic people won't get too mad, they might even laugh!

I've seen people bake cakes with the words "Surprise I'm gay!" on it, things like that.

Just little cute things that are nice to do for your parents or people you're coming out to, but make it a surprise and that you're actually lgbt!

Now remember though, always follow the first rule and make sure safety is priority, but if you know you're safe, but you're just not sure they understand, starting out with jokes helps a lot.

6. The second step you should do after coming out is always try to explain your side of the story.

If there are people who don't let you get a word in, let them know that you have important things to say and that they need to listen to you and then they can say whatever they need.

Explain how it feels to be trans, explain why you know you're trans, of course you shouldn't have to ideally, but unfortunately a lot of people won't understand unless they're given more information, as the subject is completely foreign to them.

I know my grandma specifically reacted so well, all she did was ask me questions about it, and once I answered all her questions, she hummed in satisfaction and she never questioned it again and completely accepted me.

And a lot of times you'll get people who are pretty neutral, people who will call you by your chosen name and gender but don't really totally care as much as you want them to, but they still go along with it and just kind of assume you know what's best for you, which is a really kind thing really.

I've had a few people react neutrally and it's actually relaxing, there's no pressure put on for being gay, either over positive or over negative. but I have to say as a trans person and gay person, and grey-ace person, I love the people who ask questions the most.

I don't mind answering, and it means they're trying to learn more about something they don't understand, which means they have a huge heart and huge open mind.

Some people may get annoyed at the constant questions, but I absolutely adore them.

To me, every time someone asks about me, they're showing interest in my life and my feelings.

7. Next the scientific method.

Look up on any scientific article anywhere, and you'll find studies done on trans men and women's brains.

It was shown factually multiple times, over and over, whenever they repeated it it did it again, that trans men have the same brain structure as cis men, and trans women have the same brain structure as cis women, and non-binary people have somewhere in the middle. This was factually proven, you can look it up, so if they try to use science to defend against you, educate that that science is actually for LGBT rights and has explained how it works even.

8. Try to be gentle when it comes to pronouns.

For a lot of people, especially people of foreign languages where some languages don't have genders, or will have different genders, or other things like that, or even just English speakers that aren't used to saying 'they', or your family not being used to your pronouns yet.

It can take a while, and I know it's frustrating, it could take even a few years for them to finally get it right every time.

It's not supposed to be an attack towards you, it's genuinely hard to reprogram yourself when you think someone is one thing your whole life and then it turns out they're the other thing! So be sure to be gentle with them while they're practising, remind them every time they make a mistake, but remind them gently, as they are trying to do the right thing, they're just slipping up due to habit.

In general, be patient with non-lgbt folks, if we're mad at them, it just drives them away, rather than driving them toward us to help and assist us.

We should be grateful for our allies.

9. Once you've come out and your parents probably still have questions, I would recommend sitting down and having family night where you read together some good articles about transgenderism, and LGBT+ in general.

If they're not familiar with it, this type of education can help them a lot to understand the terminology and how to address you, and basic respect for trans & lgbtq+ people.

Overall it's a learning experience for both of you, and it would be amazing to do if they're willing to learn.

Remember that it's a journey for all of us, and everyone has a lot to learn.

10. When selecting your name, I have one piece of advice/a question for you; "Does it spark joy?"

The most important thing, it doesn't matter how odd sounding it is, or differently spelled it is, or whatever your name is, if you enjoy your name, that's what matters.

Always pick the one that calls out to you.

And it's okay to change it from time to time, people need time to figure out who they are!

And with that, I conclude my fourth part!

I hope you were helped by this in any way, and thanks for reading.

[taeyongers]

Exile (M)

pairing: hyunjae x reader

genre: smut, rival mob bosses au, childhood friends to lovers 

summary: basically two orphans grow up and end up in rival gangs without knowing, until you meet in the middle of a gunfight

warning: drugs mention, bullying, sexual harassment, old style orphanages, gangs, gunfights, slight mentions of blood and wounds, sexual content (be warned) but it’s mostly soft and fluffy, light sub! hyunjae for a time

word count: 8.5k 

a/n: loooool @letteredwings hi friend this for u, pls don’t headbutt hyunjae anymore

The earth is cold under your bare feet. Your toes are spread wide. Wet pebbled mud meshes through the spaces in between.

It’s raining. The pitter patter of raindrops against the concrete pavement makes you want to step a little farther out from the awning you stand under, to just feel it against your skin. Your hair has already gotten wet. You just need more, a feeling to break you free from the unchanging hell you face each day.

“Y/n!” A sharp voice, familiar, cuts you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing!? You’ll catch a cold!”

It’s Hyunjae, of course. You let him tug you back from under the awning, through the doors, up the wooden steps and into the dreary warmth.

He is your height at this age. His eyes are young and shining, brows furrowed in concern and anger.

“The headmistress will be angry,” he mumbles. His hands rub your sides to get some warmth in you.

“The headmistress doesn't care,” you mutter.

He scoffs at your words, takes your little hand in his and trudges up the stairs into his dormitory. He sits you down on his bed, rummages through his dresser, which is not even a foot away from the bed. It’s a pathetically small room.

“You'll need dry clothes,” he says to himself and pulls out a towel. He places it on your wet hair, brows still furrowed. “You need to take those off. You’ll get sick.”

Finally, your cheeks burn. “All the other children already tease that we’ll get married someday and you want me to take my clothes off in your room!?”

You shove away the towel from your head. His cheeks tint pink and he sits down beside you with a huff.

“I didn't mean you need to change right now. You can do it in your room. Just dry off first.” He picks up the towel and holds it out to you.

You give him a glare and snatch the towel before placing it on your hair. He looks at you, eyeing the water dripping down the strands.

“Why were you even outside in the rain?”

“I was bored.”

He doesn't believe you. “They were making fun of you, weren’t they?” You glare at him again. He smirks like he knows something. “And you ran outside? You could have come to find me.”

“Why? You’re not my brother.”

He falls silent.

You shift on his creaky bed. “Why do you help me so much? You protect me from the kids who throw food at my hair. You fight my bullies. You talk back to the headmistress when she is angry with me. You share your cookies with me. You hug me when I cry, take care of me when I’m sick, now you’re drying me off when I’m wet. Why?”

He looks at you and shrugs. “Because you can't defend yourself. You’re small.”

Anger rips through you. “Yes I can! I don't need you!” You shove at him, nearly toppling him from the bed.

He grapples your hands. “Fine! Fine, it’s not because of that!” He says, calming you down. “It’s because… I know that sad kids end up in those bad groups around town. The headmistress says those who don't behave will never find parents and will stay here until they turn sixteen. Once they leave, they are taken in by those bad people. And I know she says that for kids who don't behave but I think those kids are just sad.” You stare at him as he stutters. “So, I don’t want you to be sad. I don't want you to end up with those people.”

“So you’re saying I’m sad?” You ask. He touches a stray piece of your hair.

“I mean...I see how the other kids treat you. How the teachers and mistresses treat you. I would be sad.”

You look at him until your gaze falls. “Then... we should both make a promise to not be sad and end up with those people.” He nods and holds out his pinky. You interlace yours with his. “We’ll find parents, or we’ll grow up and become good people.”

He nods resolutely. “Yeah.”

Your hands fall away from each other.

“Do you.. wanna change into dry clothes and come back here? I hid some extra cookies for you.”

Your lips break out into a grin. “Okay!”

He grins back. You rush off, something light fluttering in your chest.

This is how childhood goes. You do everything together. He’s your rock and your shield, your only friend. He protects you from the other children, your teachers and from the world. When they manage to slip past him, your iron defense, and get to you, you hide away and cry. He always finds you, hugs you through your tears, shushes and comforts you.

Childhood years fall away into adolescence and teenage years. By sixteen, you will be thrown out into the world, forced to brave it on your own. Hyunjae and you try to make the most out of whatever miserable years you have left at the orphanage, and whatever little protection it offers you both during this time.

As you grow, he surpasses your height. His jaw becomes defined, his body lanky and tall until he's a head above you. He's handsome… so handsome and it makes your heart flip and cheeks burn. You still share food and he still comforts you when things are hard. You find a special place together, the rooftop of the orphanage, where you lie flat and feel as if the universe is swallowing you into itself.

“We can’t turn out bad,” He reminds himself and you. “We can't fall into those gangs that plague this city. We need to make a life for ourselves once we get out of here, no matter how hard it will be.”

“It won't be hard for you,” you say. “You’re a good person. You’ll be a doctor or something. I know it.”

He scoffs, staring up at the night sky. “You don’t know that.”

“I do!” Your brows furrow. “You’re the best person here. This place doesn’t deserve you.”

He looks at you with stars in his eyes. He moves as if going to touch your cheek, but changes his mind.

“Okay,”  he whispers, “but it doesn't deserve you either.”

You stare at him. You wonder constantly if he feels something for you. You find him looking at you when you don’t notice, something akin to stars in his eyes, though to be fair, they have been there since childhood. But you’re not convinced that he feels anything for you other than that of a sister, a friend.

He holds out his pinky finger, a reassurance of that promise. You cross your finger with his.

Life’s problems change as time goes on. Bullying from the other orphans becomes more personal, more cruel. At just 15, the children have been introduced to drugs, sex, and using violence for intimidation. They wonder loudly about your relationship with Hyunjae. They wonder what you’re giving him for someone like him to care about such a loser like you.

Like that one time when a boy and his friends corner you after dinner, sneers and hatred spouting in their mouths.

“Are you his whore or something?” He asks, eyes burning holes into you. “Do you have to use that mouth in convincing ways to keep him protecting you? Maybe we need convincing as well,” he laughs with his friends.

You slip past them and run to your room. You cry until you can't breathe. Hyunjae finds you, he always finds you, soft voice filled with concern asking what, what is it, please tell me.

You tell him in between sobs. His eyes grow hard and cold. He hugs you tightly, shushes and strokes your hair until you calm down and fall asleep in his arms. His grip is gentle, but something in him is colder than usual.

The next day, he disappeared. You hear shouting in the headmistress’ office. He returns in the night, bruises sprouting across his face. His hand is clenched tight, swollen and bruised and messy. His eyes are still hard and cold.

You sit him down in your room. On this rare occasion, you’re the one taking care of him. You drag a wet rag gently across his swollen knuckles and his bruised cheekbones.

“What happened? Where were you?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s glaring at something far off and refuses to tell you.

The next day, you find that he’s been sentenced to weeks of latrine duty. You find out from another boy, Chanhee, about what happened. Hyunjae had attacked the boy who harassed you the day before.

“So then Hyunjae shows up and beats the crap out of him behind the building. If you think hyunjae looked bad, you should have seen the other guy.”

You get angry. Not at him, but at yourself. Why, why were you so weak? Why does Hyunjae put himself at risk for you? Why did Hyunjae grow up putting himself at risk for you, just because you couldn't protect yourself?

The other kids already think you’re doing some kind of sexual favors for him to protect you from abuse. You feel ashamed, disgusted. Why does he associate himself with someone as weak and useless as you?

You begin to distance yourself from him. You don’t go over to his room or let him stay in yours. You don’t hang out with him when you’re permitted to go outside. You begin to talk less, eat less together and, stop your rooftop meetings all together, feigning a headache or something else each time he asks. You feel it’s for the best. He should live his life for himself, not for you.

It doesn’t work. He ends up cornering you one day, hurt flooding his eyes, something you never want to see again. “Why are you ignoring me?”

You sigh.

“Did someone say something? Did they threaten-”

“What am I to you?” You ask.

His resolve burns away, and he’s left confused, mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish. “You’re my friend-”

“Do you love me?”

His brows furrow. “Of course I love you.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He goes still. Silent.

You look away. Of course not. He’s just protecting you because he feels that you’re too weak to do it yourself.

“I feel like a burden  You keep making up for my weaknesses.”

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up. “It’s not your fault. People are shit. I’m just helping you.“

“And you keep getting hurt. Our lives are already miserable here, and I’m just making yours worse.”

“Stop,” he says, eyes conflicted, unable to get the words out. He never was good with them.

“I’m turning sixteen soon. I’m going away.”

His brows furrow. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere. I’ll get a job, and live my life.”

“But I don’t want you to go!” He erupts, rattling you. He sees your expression and softens. “We can… we can go together. Live together.”

“I’m already a burden on you. And besides, why would you? You’re not in love with me.”

He’s silent. His eyes are burning with something he wants to say. But he doesn't. He never does. And neither do you.

...

You turn sixteen, no longer legally allowed to stay at the orphanage. You move away and become a waitress. You don’t hear from Hyunjae again. You get used to your new life, find an apartment, and appreciate the small, new found freedom of living by yourself. Of course, the struggle for money is always there as well as a deep ache in your heart that refuses to go away, but it’s more than you’ve ever had.

Eight years go by and you break your promise. You ended up getting involved with the wrong people in the allure of deals for quick ways to get money. You meet a charming woman who convinces you to join her friends, that they could use your skills and knowledge. Now, you’re in a gang, one of the many in this god forsaken city.

You fight, you shoot, you kill, and you get money. You live in more comfort as a criminal than you’ve had in your whole life. You’ve broken your promise and don’t regret it. It’s as if it's always meant to be. You finally feel like you’re in charge of your life.

Hyunjae fades from your mind. You’re not sure if you ever fade from his.

Gang wars are all too familiar to you, and the strategy involved in conducting them is as well, now that you have become the leader. You like the new found power, your members depending on you, your success in proving yourself over and over again as the boss.

One gang in particular has been tormenting you for the past few years. They have been picking off your members, stealing your business, moving into your territory. You’d decided enough was enough and engaged them. It takes place as gunfights through back alleys in the middle of the night.

You decided to join in this time on the dirty work of fighting. The new enemy seems capable and more threatening than the others. Besides, as leader, you’ve been tucked away in the safety of your headquarters, sending orders from there. You haven't had a good gun fight in a while.

Right now, you’re hidden behind a building, shooting at shapeless figures in the dark. You know you have more numbers, superior guns and skills, when you begin pushing them back, cornering them, suffocating them. Victory is close and soon you will be queen of these lands once again.

Then, you hear a voice, your subordinate shouting something at the same time a shapeless figure melts from the shadows and darts across the street.

“That’s their leader!”

Oh, you are not one to miss out on this opportunity, of taking out this leader, of ruling both groups, both territories. So, you tear yourself from out of the shadows and sprint after the figure.

Your members call out after you but you ignore them. Your group is winning. Their leader is making a last ditch effort to escape. There is nothing to worry about.

You chase the figure into a darkened alley that stops abruptly at a dead end with one dim streetlight. You corner him, gun raised, and watch the male turn around.

“What kind of coward leader runs from a fight?”

He freezes, as if something has seized and taken hold of his entire body. Then, he steps into the light. A shock runs through you. Your eyes widen, and the gun almost slips from your grip.

“Y/n?”

His voice floats to your ears. Yes, it’s familiar, one you’ve memorized, but it’s deeper now. You can hardly overcome your shock as men appear behind you with guns pointed at your head. It was a trap. 

“Stop!” Hyunjae orders, shock and concern taking over his features, ones you’ve known since childhood. “We’re taking her with us.”

...

Your feet hurt from pacing the room, but you don’t stop. You hear an exasperated sigh from off to the side.

“Are you going to sit down and talk?” Hyunjae asks. He is seated at a table, a spare chair beside him. Your eyes run over him briefly. 

He’s older, much older. He’s grown half a foot since you saw him last. His body is bigger, toned from fighting. He has the same eyes, though - young looking and twinkling- and the same smell, something that makes your stomach wrench.

You continue to pace, glancing at the window, the air vent, the door- anything that can let you escape.

“Y/n.”

Your eyes snap to him. “No. I’m not going to sit down and have a talk. Especially not with you,” you spit out.

He blinks. “What do you mean, especially not with me?”

You don't respond. He stands up abruptly, and without thinking, you grab the knife from where they never found it when they searched you.

He freezes at the sight. His hand curls around the gun in his holster. “Don’t be stupid, Y/n. There are men right outside those doors. One word from me and they’ll barge in and kill you.”

“Then why don’t they?” You yell.

“Why are u so angry!?” He snarls, finally showing his anger. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in years! What did I-“

“What did you do? I thought I left you in that orphanage years ago and now I find out that you’re the head of the gang that keeps invading our rightful territory? That it was on your orders that my members were killed for years? That I was almost killed!?”

Something flits across his eyes.

“Yeah I know,” you sneer, “how ironic is it that you were my knight in shining armor back then and now you’ve been trying to kill me for years.”

He exhales, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. “Y/n, I didn't know.”

“And what about those dreams you had, huh? About being a doctor? Something good? You promised you’d not fall into this scene and yet you ended up here anyway!”

His face is hard. “We both made that promise.”

You falter, glaring at him. “I was always the less promising one out of us two.”

He steps forward. “That’s not true.”

You purse your lips. “Are you going to kill me now?”

He stops, looking hurt. “Of course not.”

“Why not? I’m the enemy leader.”

He looks exasperated. “Y/n-“ he reaches for you but you step away. His hand falls from the air.

The silence is deafening and you grip your knife. “I should kill you. I will be better for it.”

Hyunjae sighs, running his hand through his hair . “Don’t be stupid. The guards outside-“

“I can take them.” You say with full confidence. He seems surprised. He looks at the anger, the hurt in your eyes, then down at the knife, in your experienced grip. “I’m going to kill you,” you say again, almost as an effort to convince yourself.

Some light kindles in his eyes, a look of interest, curiosity. Maybe he’s caught onto your bluff.

He raises a brow. “Really?”

You blink and nod. He steps closer, so close you’re just inches away, until you can see the deep brown of his twinkling eyes, the scent of him that takes you back years. He grips your hand holding the knife and presses it against his chest, right over his heart. His gaze is intense.

“Then do it.”

You stutter. “I- I will do it…”

His eyes aren’t wavering from yours. He imperceptibly presses the knife harder against his chest. Your hands are shaking, and you make no move to pierce him. He realizes this. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he gently pulls your wrist away from his chest. With a simple twist, the knife clatters to the floor. Now, you’re both looking at each other, silence flooding the room.

His eyes never break their lock on yours except for one flicker down to your lips and back. Then, he moves so slowly, head tilting, lips nearly brushing yours to kiss you. You can barely get a hold of yourself to jerk away.

“What- what are you doing!?” You breathe hard, stepping back.

He grasps your elbow and pulls you back. His eyes soften, hand coming up to run across your face. “Please, I … just missed you...so much” His voice is shaky, a rare break in character from the short amount of time you’ve seen him recently, eyes vulnerable instead of cold steel.

“I have to kill you.” Your voice cracks. “After all those years of fighting-“

“But you can’t,” he speaks, eyes drinking you in. “Because you feel something for me like I do for you, even after all this time. And in the middle of this war and senseless violence, can’t we just have this?”

You freeze. “You feel what for me?”

He catches on. Something soft floods his eyes, his thumb stroking your cheek. You would have torn away if not for the ridiculous amount of comfort it brings you.

“Is that why you are so angry?” He chuckles, letting his hand slip from your cheek before releasing a defeated sigh. “I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.”

You still. He rubs the nape of his neck.

“When you left, I … I lost it.” Hyunjae’s voice cracked. “I was angry for the longest time. I resented you for leaving. I resented myself for not trying harder to make you stay, for not telling you the truth when you asked me how I felt.” He paced. “You.. called me a good person. Then I lost you and I threw away everything about myself that was good. I got into drugs… crime. Now I’m here.” He glanced at you. “I never thought you’d be here too.”

You silently digest his words, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen.

He steps closer and takes your hand.  “I couldn’t sleep at night for years. I constantly wondered if you were in danger.”

“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you whisper.

“No,” he gazes at you, talking almost to himself. “No, you don’t.” He drops your hand and sighs. “I can see I’ve hurt you too much, back then and even now, to earn your forgiveness.”

Silence hangs heavy. The entrenched hurt in your heart lightens. Of course he’d been hurting all this time too. But your throat is too heavy to form any words in response.

“So, what do we do now?” You ask hoarsely.

He’s silent, eyes going from you to the door. “I can’t take you back to my members. They’ll have you tortured and killed immediately, and there’s no way in hell I would let that happen.”

You make a show of rolling your eyes. Of course, he protects you, even now.

Hyunjae paces across the floor, stroking his chin. He stops by the table and looks up at the air vent in the ceiling. He turns around, eyes determined.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. We have to fake a struggle. Give me a few bruises. I’ll lock the door so the guards can’t get in immediately. Then, you climb up through the vent and make you way out of the building. Hopefully they won’t catch up.”

You can’t help giving a small smile. “Hopefully?”

He nods, eyes softening for a brief moment. Suddenly, he presses forward and kisses you deeply. A shock of butterflies bursts through your stomach, fluttering up and up to your chest. You barely process his soft lips, his calloused hands on your cheeks, the fringes of his hair tickling your forehead. Your mind turns to mush before he pulls away. He looks at you softly as he releases you. Then, he punches you in the shoulder, hard.

“Ow!” You reel back.

He smirks. “Where do you think you’re going?” He calls out loudly, much louder than is needed.

You catch on. “I’m leaving!” You yell just as loud and shove him hard towards the door. He grins approvingly at your play and spins around to lock the door. Someone pounds on the wood from the other side.

“Sir!? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he calls. “I just have a difficult prisoner, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Something playful flares in his eyes as he nearly tackles you. You stumble violently for a moment, his large arms wrapped around yours to pin you in place. You try to wrestle out of his grip but he manages to hold your arms tight around you so you can’t move, giving you the odd sensation of being in a straitjacket.

“No, let me go! I’ll--” you pause, glaring at him. “I’ll headbutt you, I swear.”

He smirks. “Then headbutt me.”

You pause for a second and then you swing your head into his cranium. His head jolts backwards and his arms release you to grip his throbbing head.

“What the hell- you actually did it!?”

You snicker at him before the sound of pounding resounds throughout the room.

“Sir, the door isn’t opening! We’re going to break in!”

Hyunjae whirls around to face you, gesturing you to go up the vent. “Alright, hurry up!” He yells to guards.

You step onto the table and reach up onto your tiptoes to remove the covering. With one last look at Hyunjae, who’s face seems to be a mess of regret, affection, longing, and panic, you muster out a “see you later,” before disappearing through the hole.

...

Hyunjae knows he is seen as a cold leader. Like he said, once he lost you, he lost everything about himself that was good.

He killed. He punished. He executed.

He would beat a man for looking at him the wrong way. Give brutal tests of loyalty to his subordinates. Make it so that they quake when he walks into the room.

It was to maintain order, dignity, balance.

No one can defeat him at a mental game. No one can make him falter, doubt, outsmart him, move him. No one. That’s how he climbed the ranks and became the boss.

That is, until now. Fifteen minutes in that room with you and his mind has turned to mush. You’ve grown up, more beautiful than you were before, and it utterly stopped his heart. Your smiles, enough to make his knees buckle. Oh, how he wanted to take you in his arms, like he’s imagined for years, to hold you, hug you, kiss you, never let you go.

Of course he couldn't do that. The universe is not that kind. He got in one kiss - just because he desperately needed to know how you felt - and you melting into him was all the answer he needed. But then he had to say goodbye to you far too fast.

Now, the guards have burst into the room, searching feverishly for you who’s long disappeared. He mentions that you used the air vent to escape and leaves through the door. He knows they can never catch up to you in time - you’re far too good.

That sad, insecure girl he knew from his past seems to have changed. You’re a leader of a gang now, the one he’s been fighting and struggling to outsmart for years. If he had known it was you all along, how quickly he would have stolen you away from the fighting and left to live somewhere far away, somewhere peaceful. He would abandon his members, everything he built after all these years in a heartbeat for you. It was never even a question.

But he barely knows if you want the same thing. All that he knows now is that he has to see you again.

He thinks about these things, mind rumbling and turning, as he walks briskly to his meeting. His head still pounds from your headbutt and he catches himself smiling at the thought of it. It’s one ache he doesn’t mind.

He enters the room filled with high ranking members. They wait patiently for him to take his seat at the head of the table.

“So? Any updates?” He asks.

One guard steps forward, the same one that had been searching for you. “Sir, we couldn’t find her. I believe she escaped.”

Internally relieved and unsurprised, he outwardly slams his fist on the table, making everyone jump.

“Damn! Do you know how valuable she would have been alive? The information we could have gotten out of her?” He glares. “And how much of a mess they would have been without their leader?”

The guard ducks his head. “Yes sir. Sorry.”

Another man leans forward in his chair, Juyeon, his close, right hand man. “But we found intel on their next plans. They are raiding the HQ of a much smaller group, If we meet them there, we can catch them by surprise, and take their leader out.”

Hyunjae doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’ll see you again. On the other, you’ll be in danger.

A grunt leaning by a wall says, “I hope we take her out. That bitch deserves that and worse. If I-”

Before he can finish, Hyunjae has him shoved roughly against the wall. His shirt is clutched in Hyunjae’s fist and a knife pressed to his neck. Hyunjae barely registers his rage, the look of fear and shock from everyone around the room, from the man in his grip. His eyes are eyes wide, looking at Hyunjae for an explanation.

Hyunjae rolls with his show. “Less talking. More doing. Talk after you bring her to me. She’s already escaped once from us.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” he sputters out.

Hyunjae releases him from and glares at the room. “We’re done here.”

...

I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.

Those words echo through your mind nonstop, refusing to give you any mercy. And even worse is the memory of the kiss - of his lips pressed against yours, his hands on your skin, his smell - you secretly wish that moment had lasted forever. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, and your heart aches in response.

Then, you rip yourself from your thoughts.

“Ugh!” You yell, slamming your gun onto the table. You’ve tried to assemble it for what seemed like the 50th time in the past ten minutes but your thoughts keep distracting you.

“Y/n?” Your subordinate, Younghoon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “We’re ready to leave.”

You finally manage to click the gun in place. With one last order to your mind to let go of useless thinking, you stand and slip your gun into the holster.  “Let’s go.”

The place you’ve decided to raid has many resources like valuable drugs and money, all hoarded by a smaller group that you can beat out easily. You surprise them, your members jumping out of cars and invading in from all openings of the derelict headquarters.

There’s shouting, scrambling, and finally gunfire. You know this mission will be easy enough - the other group does not have enough people to defend their resources. This will be over before you know it.

At least, that’s what you thought until you spot strange black vans pulling up to the curve outside, men jumping out in large numbers to join the fight. They immediately engage your members with gunfire. You panic, unable to understand what is happening before you catch sight of Hyunjae exiting a van and tucking himself behind the building entrance for shelter against the bullets. He catches your gaze and a number of different emotions pass by his face. He settles on a hesitant smile.

Confusion, then anger rips through you. So much for all those sweet words he spoke yesterday. He’s still fighting you, still trying to kill your members, still prolonging this war. If he wants it that way, then that’s what you’ll give him.

You step out and begin shooting. Chaos seems to erupt with two sizable forces fighting each other inside one building. You can tell that you will not win without a large loss of life.

“Just find whatever you can and go!” You bark at your subordinates. They scramble to obey your orders, grabbing suitcases and locked chests in between the shooting.

Before long, you’re calling them all back from the scene, ordering their retreat. They scramble into the cars you came in. You glance back to see Hyunjae’s men lowering their guns, glancing at him for their next orders - whether to pursue or retreat. However, his gaze is only fixed on you.

Then, he makes a break for it. He runs directly after you without a second glance, without a word to the rest of his group, leaving them stunned in confusion. You would’ve had half a mind to guess that he means to kill you, if it isn’t for the slightly sad expression on his face.

One of your girls steps forward to aim her gun at him. A shock of fear runs through you. “Wait! Stop! Don’t kill him!”

With wide eyes, she obeys and resorts to landing a good punch on Hyunjae’s cheek that sends him tumbling to the ground. Shouts ring out in the air and you see that his members are now running after you.

“Get him into the car! Hurry!”

They do as you order. Soon enough, the party of cars is driving off with Hyunjae’s men trailing behind on foot. They eventually stop and run back into their vans. A car chase ensues through the streets but your smaller cars outrun their bigger vans within minutes. You’re left speeding through the night with a slightly unconscious, groaning Hyunjae in your lap in the backseat.

...

“Does it hurt?”

Hyunjae peers up at you under the dim lighting of your room. You inspect the nasty cut on his cheek, one caused by the punch that took him out.

“I’ve dealt with a lot worse,” he replies, expression unreadable. “Funny how we’re back in the same situation, except...the other way around.”

You know what he means. Last time, you were captured and held in his room as a prisoner. Now, he’s yours, except he came willingly.

You sigh, pouring a bit of rubbing alcohol onto a clean rag. You press it to his cheek and he winces slightly.

“Why did you run after me?” You ask, patting down his skin.

He sighs, eyes running over your face. “Because I wanted to see you.”

You ignore how your stomach flips. “But you left all your men behind, people who depended on you.”

He shrugs.

You scoff, shaking your head as you step back. “You planned that entire raid just to see me? Don’t you care about them? Right now, they’re thinking you’ve gotten captured but really, you ran away.”

“Y/n, I became involved in this filthy life because I had nothing left after I lost you. But now, I found you and…” he trails off, large brown eyes falling on yours. “There’s something more now.”

Your heart thrums but you maintain a frown. “So that’s it? You’d just leave?”

He blinks slowly and smiles. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You carefully place a square piece of gauze on his wound and tape it down. You almost miss his smile, his eyes filled with softness and stars as they gaze at you.

“What is it now?”

He smiles. “Isn’t this familiar?”

You have flashes of memories - cleaning his wounds in the orphanage after he got himself in a fight over your honor.

“Don’t get used to it,” you mutter, tossing a few wrappers in the trash. You move to step away but he’s suddenly standing up, hand shooting out to grip your arm.

“Y/n-“

“Should I remind you that you’re the prisoner in here?” You glare.

His brows are knitted, face forlorn. “You act like you hate me but you don’t really.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.” He levels his gaze with you. “You told your gunman not to kill me. You cleaned and dressed my wounds. You kissed me like you’re in love with me-“

“That’s enough,” you growl, tugging harshly away from his grip but he holds onto you tightly.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you I loved you back then,” he says again, and again it flips and cleaves and destroys your heart. His eyes are full of regret. “Maybe you would have stayed.”

He searches your face for something that you’re hesitant and unwilling to give him. Something seems to fade from his eyes as he slowly releases you.

“Or maybe you wouldn’t have.” The smile falls from his lips. “Maybe it was meant to be this way.” He sits back down on your bed. “And maybe I truly was an idiot for getting myself captured by people who want me dead.”

You study his features, twisted in defeat. He’s always been so dependent on your moods, your signs, the words you say to him. He can be emboldened by your subtle signals and just as easily defeated by your rejections. Your heart flips again and you curse it. He really did love you, then and now.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh, earning his attention. “I hated being a burden on you, regardless of... if you loved me or not.”

He gazes at you in such pure confusion that you look away. “Y/n, you were never a burden.”

You feel the sting of tears, a lump forming in your throat. He stands up slowly, steps close to you.

“You were my family-“ he begins.

“You were my family too but you kept getting hurt, kept suffering because of someone so useless as me,” your voice cracks.

His heart seems to break, you can see so in his eyes. He reaches for you tentatively, and you don’t pull away this time. He places a gentle hand on your cheek, gazing deep into your eyes, taking hold of your heart.

“You were never a burden. Never. All those things I did because I loved you,” he says softly. “You could never be a burden.”

Something shatters in your chest and you surge forward to kiss him, tears rolling down your face. He embraces you, eagerly welcomes the kiss, grasps your cheeks as if you are the most precious thing ever.

The kiss is desperate - a release of more than a decade’s worth of repressed love. You’re hypersensitive to the feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing against yours, the deep groans resounding from his chest as you melt in his arms.

“Y/n,” he groans, holding your waist in a tight grip as you pull away, panting for air. His lips attach to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses down the column. Your breaths stutter, fingers curling into his hair. A nip of your skin by his teeth has a light moan slipping past your lips.

He pulls back to gaze at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. His irises swirl with affection mixed with want.

“I- Do you want-“ he manages out, drinking in your gaze, but unable to finish his question.

You swallow thickly, mind racing. Your body is burning with need and longing for him, after so many years. You can only manage out a nod. He presses his forehead against yours.

“I need you to say it.”

You let out a shaky exhale. “I want you.”

He seems to revel in those words before swooping in to kiss you, somehow even more desperate this time. He pulls you gently towards the bed, littering kisses on your lips with breathless words in between.

“Tell me any time if you want to stop, alright?”

You nod. “Okay.”

His eyes twinkle before he kisses you again. You fall back against the sheets. His fingers flit down across your shirt and your pants, stopping to unbutton them. You kick them away impatiently and tug your shirt over your head.

He stares at your semi nude form in awe. He slowly places his hands on the skin of your waist, feeling your skin underneath his fingers.

“Have you had sex before, Hyunjae?” You chuckle.

“You have no idea how long I imagined this,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. “But you’re more beautiful than anything my brain could conjure up.”

Your cheeks burn at the cheesiness but your heart thrums all the same. Then, your mouth goes dry as he reaches and pulls his shirt over his head.

Inch by inch, the deep black ink of tattoos curling across his skin are revealed. His muscles ripple with movement and settle again once he’s cast his shirt away. He gazes at you in anticipation.

You find your voice. “You got tattoos.”

He smiles. “You like them?”

He takes your hand and places it on his stomach. You swallow hard, finger tracing one line of onyx ink. “W-Why would you care if I like them?”

He chuckles. “I care what you like.” He grips your hand softly, entangling his fingers with yours.

You glance at him. “Are you sure you’re a gang leader?”

He smiles and tugs you forward, humming as he kisses you. “You know, you look really hot when you hold a gun.”

You chuckle as his arms wrap around you. “Really?”

“Yeah,” kisses down your throat, hot and open mouthed. “I lost my mind the first time I saw you standing tall, directing orders, shooting.”

You gasp as he grips your ass harshly and sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck at the same time. “I wanted you then and there.”

You can’t respond, your mind slowly descending into the depths of incoherency. He presses you flat against the bed, and leans over you, hips rolling deep against yours. Gasps and moans fall from your lips as he watches, mesmerized.

“I always wanted to hear your moans,” he says breathily, grinding against you. “God, how many nights I’d spend just thinking of you.”

“Hyunjae,” you gasp, grabbing his hips. “You can tone down the love sick puppy-ness.”

He chuckles, a deep low sound that sends tingles straight to your core. “But I can’t help it.” He places a kiss below your heart, trailing down your stomach and your navel, settling between your thighs. “I love you. I have always loved you.”

Warmth floods your chest as you gaze down at him, at his eyes that are filled with affection and the stars of the universe. Then he presses a kiss to your clothed mound and all your thoughts are shattering.

He hooks his fingers under your underwear and drags them down. You shift to sit up on your elbows. “Y-You don’t have to-“

He cuts you off with a disbelieving laugh. “I have waited and imagined every detail of this for years. I can’t not.” He peers up at you. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

You swallow thickly. “N-No. I want to.”

His lips curl into a smile. “Good.”

He removes your underwear, and spreads your thighs around his shoulders. His hot breath meets your core and you release a shaky breath. He gives you one last, heated look, before he’s dragging his tongue across your center, stopping at your clit.

You throw your head back and moan. The sound spurs him on. His hands grip your thighs harder, tongue dipping into your entrance and stealing your sanity. Your ragged breaths turn into gasps and moans, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his face.

He holds you down firmly against the mattress, the muscles in his forearm flexing around your thighs. His eyes burn into yours as another stroke of his tongue sends you reeling.

“H-Hyun,” you gasp out. His eyelids flutter at the sound of his name. He groans into you, shaking you to the core, continuing his ministrations.

You lose your mind slowly. Every movement of his tongue sends you to another dimension. When he pushes a finger inside, you shake and clench and cry out, gasping harshly as he pumps his fingers. He releases a shaky breath against your core when you arch at another finger. A cry and moan crawl up your throat and spill into the air. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug harshly, earning another deep moan from him.

Your mind is descending. He’s kept a slow place so far but is speeding up. Your moans pitch high and the knot in your stomach grows tighter. Just when you’re about to crash, whirl, die and be reborn, everything stops.

His fingers are gone, mouth is gone, his warmth and it's all cold. Your eyelids slip open to find him, kneeling before you, eyes dark, hands tense, slightly shaking. You want to ask why, why he stopped, why he looks as if he’s been wound so tight that he’ll snap.

He wipes his mouth absently, makes the pit of your stomach whirr. He fixes his dark eyes on you.

“I need…” his voice is hoarse. “I need you on top of me, I need to feel you around me.”

You swallow dryly and sit up. A push of his shoulder to the side and he’s rolling onto the bed, head settling upon the pillow. You straddle him easily, as if you belong there. He’s splayed out underneath you, every inch of his skin in reach, every ribbon of muscle, and every inky curl and dip of tattoos across his body, all for you.

You place a hand on his chest, feel him release a sigh and watch your hand dip with his skin with the movement. He is hard underneath you, and you can feel him getting harder.

“So this is how you’ve always imagined it?” You ask, trailing your hand down his skin, under his navel, to stop at his pants button, watching him shudder.

“Yes,” he breathes, eyes closed. You unbutton him, peel his pants off and provide him with some degree of relief. You straddle him again and lean forward to kiss him deeply. He sinks into the kiss, sighs when you move to kiss down his throat, and then trace his tattoos with your lips.

He reaches up to grip your waist. You stop.

“You can't touch.”

He gazes at you, wide eyed. He seems to want to protest but he swallows it and keeps his hands down.

You smile in victory. You hips rock and grind against him, watch him arch in pleasure. His fingers flex and clench the bedsheets beside him. His eyes are heady,  burning into yours, his jaw clenching.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” You ask softly, removing his boxers to feel his hardness in your hands. He makes a muffled sound, refusing to part his lips. “Having someone tell you what to do?” You ask, stroking him slowly, watching a storm of emotions pass his face. “And you can't say anything back?”

You lift your hips up and sink down on him in one movement. There is a pleasurable burn, but you are more focused on the way he tips his head back and groans, his eyelids clenching shut. His fingers twitch against the sheets, his veined arms straining to not touch you.

“And you’re listening so well,” you praise, feeling him stretch you. You release a shaky breath, swallowing a moan.

“Y/n,” he pants. You gasp as you start moving, slowly, almost too slowly at first. After all these years, you want to revel in the feel of him inside you. He releases a broken moan and thrusts up into you in desperation.

You still immediately. “No doing that, either.”

He groans and rolls his head to the side, gazing at you in need, in exasperation. But his hips stay still when you begin riding him again.

Your heart flutters at him listening to you, the head of a mob, who hasn't taken orders from anyone in a long, long time, turning to putty under your hips. You speed up , breaths turning harsh as you roll and bounce your hips against him.

He pants beneath you, a layer of sweat settling on his tattooed skin, his jaw clenching and sheets crumpled into his fists in an effort to hold back. You admire him, beautiful and unholy beneath you. As you palm your own breasts, you take in the sight of his lust filled, darkened eyes watching every movement you make, burning with need to touch you.

Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, gripping the skin as he thrusts up into you. Pleasure explodes from behind your eyelids as you cry out. Somehow, with all your willpower, you remove yourself completely from him. You straddle him further down his thighs, out of reach of his aching cock.

“Y/n,” he straight up whines. His arms reach for you, brows knitted, eyes pleading. “Please.”

Your resolve almost shatters, but you enjoy seeing him like this too much. You merely shake your head and he huffs, resigning himself.

“Will you behave?”

He seems to glare at the ceiling before nodding without a word. Something thrums in your heart. You settle over him and begin the process anew. You like this, seeing him under you, controlling the pace, making love to him. He groans again, and you lean forward to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, biting the skin so it makes him shudder. Your hips speed up slightly, moaning into the air as his pants. His fingers strain and clench, his eyelids fluttered closed in concentration. You marvel at his self control.

You think of that too late when he thrusts into you once again. When you slow down, he grasps your sides and gives another thrust. You gasp and remove yourself from him but before your warmth can leave his dick completely, he’s rolling you over, flat on your back against the sheets. He harshly rolls his hips against yours.

“Hyun-“ you moan as he gives another thrust, his head tipping back. He picks up pace, hands roaming your body, his self restraint snapping. “I’ve waited for years,” he moans, leaning forward to litter kisses on your neck. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

With a bite of your skin, he’s speeding up his thrusts, sending you clawing at his back. He presses his forehead into yours, working his hips in wonders, has you seeing stars, relentlessly, until you cry out his name, clenching hard around him.

“Oh my god,” he groans at your walls milking him. He swallows your moans with his kisses, thrusts into you a few more times until he’s coming with you.

He collapses against you, one lazy arm propped upon the bed so as to not crush you. Your head is swimming, heart thrumming, feeling the tickle of his hair against your cheek as you catch your breath. Pleasure tingles throughout your entire body. He gives a breathless laugh, plants a kiss to your forehead and rolls away to lie on the sheets beside you.

It’s quiet for a heartbeat before he speaks. “Lets run away together.”

You chuckle, “we’re criminals, Hyunjae.”

“So?” he asks, facing you. His eyes are twinkling once again.

You find your words. “So, we can’t just go anywhere. We will always be wanted by the law. Besides, we should have thought of that before getting involved in this stuff.”

He releases a deep exhale. “You were always my dream, my guiding light, whatever I wanted in life. I just became involved in it because I lost you and I ended up here.”

You look at him, silently. “You never say it’s ‘because I left’, only ‘because you lost me,’.”

He blinks at you. “Because I did.” His hand entangles with your own. “I was too afraid to tell you I love you, and so I lost you.”

You squeeze his fingers. “I was… also too afraid to tell you, so I passed off the responsibility to you by asking that question.”

A smile slowly spreads across his lips. “So you’ve always loved me?”

You smile. “Yes, Hyunjae. I’ve always loved you.”

He scoops you into his arms and pulls you close. He litters kisses over every inch of your face, pulling giggles from your lips.

“So since we can’t run away, how about we call a truce between our… groups?”

“Deal.”

He holds out his pinky. You laugh at the old but familiar gesture. You interlace your pinky with his. “Okay, now, deal.”

He giggles, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “I guess you’ll have to let me go so I can convince them.” His brows furrow. “Hopefully they don’t find this place and charge in.” 

“Don’t worry. You haven’t found this place in years, what is one more day?” 

He smiles. “You always were smarter than me.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Do you think they can wait one more day, though?”

Hyunjae thinks on it. “I’ve waited for 8 years. I think they should’ve learned a thing or two from me.” 

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[nerds-escape]

Hi I am now in an anti-Snape mood so...here we go.

Quick preface before we begin: I will be talking about abuse and some other topics, I’ll put trigger warnings at the beginning of everything

NOTE: This is based off my experience as a person who was abused by both friends and family as well as a disabled person and a person who has been sexually harassed and something I don’t even know the term for it was somewhere in between sexual harassment and sexual assault.

“He was Abused as a Child”

TW: Abuse

I know it’s mentioned a lot but just because Snape was abused doesn’t mean he was destined to be a bad person, in fact, when someone says that, it makes it a lot harder for people to come to terms with what has happened. As a person who was manipulated and belittled my entire life I would like to say: I have been told I am a good person so I think I’m a good person, really it’s kind of subjective. But if you want to know some things so you can judge for yourself (a lot of these things had to be put on hold because of the pandemic which is why I’m using past tense):

I taught mentally and physically disabled kids how to swim

I had good grades

I work four jobs so I can pay to go to Uni

I have a hard time setting boundaries which means whenever someone ask me to do something, I do it out of fear of disappointing them (not a good thing but a thing none the less)

I was captain of the swim team

I was in a club that the soul purpose was to raise money for a children’s hospital

I spend a lot of my time volunteering

I know this sounds like I’m patting my own back but I just want you to understand who I am as a person. I like to think I’m a good person but it’s up to you if you believe that or not.

I have lost my autonomy due to my trauma. Every other word coming out of my mouth is sorry because I have been trained to believe everything is my fault. It took me years of therapy and talking with friends to figure that out.

The other day I asked my coworker if I could go to the bathroom because everything in my life I have had to tiptoe around and get express permission on including going to the restroom at times.

Obviously everyone reacts to abuse and trauma differently but having a villain and saying that they are bad because of the abuse they faced is just not it.

Source:

I don’t really know why you need sources on my abuse but here are some sources on trauma and how it can effect kids

https://www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/isitptsd/common_reactions.asp

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK207191/

https://www.kempe.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/The_Battered_Child_Syndrome.pdf

“The Marauders Sexually Assaulted/Harassed Snape”

TW: sexual assault/harassment

AMAB sexual assault and harassment is a real thing that needs to be talked about more, and something that shouldn’t be used to win an argument.

Snape Stans can’t seem to decide if this is sexual assault or sexual harassment. At most it is sexual harassment, this isn’t to say that sexual harassment is something to scoff at, this is to ask: pick one because saying these two are the same things is wildly misleading so stop using these words interchangeably.

Stop using male victims and survivors as trophies for your arguments. Did you know that 1 out of every 10 rape survivors are men? This is a real issue so don’t use it as a defense because guess what? It also makes makes men of sexual abuse seem like they are villains. 

Pantsing was just a thing that happened when I was in grade school. Does that make it okay? No. But pantsing is mainly considered “schoolyard fun” especially when it’s between two people of the same sex. Again. Does this make it okay? No. Do I believe what James did was okay? No. But you can not tell me that if you got pantsed and your best friend was there to comfort you, would you call them a slur? I wouldn’t.

Sources: https://wlv.openrepository.com/bitstream/handle/2436/96284/Duncan_PhDthesis.pdf?sequence=2&isAllowed=y

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantsing

Yes I am using Wikipedia as a source because they have some good sources attached.

“He was Abused by Muggles and that’s why he Hated Them”

Okay and? He knew good muggles. I was abused by men. Does that mean I want all men dead? No. I have been abused by women. Does that mean I want all women dead? No! I could go on for a while of people who have abused me and I can tell you right now I don’t want any of those groups of people dead because guess what: those groups did nothing.

“Sirius Tried to Kill Him”

Yeah, no.

Nobody forced Snape to go there. Was it fucked up for Sirius to do that? Yeah. Like really fucked up but Snape didn’t have to go. He knew what he was getting himself into. He suspected Lupin to be a werewolf. He didn’t have to go to the shrieking shack.

I genuinely don’t think that Sirius thought this one through. To him Moony wasn’t a vicious creature, he had fun playing with Padfoot and he never hurt Padfoot so to Sirius it didn’t even cross his mind that he might be putting Snape in a dangerous situation.

That’s one theory, there are many theories and we don’t know why Sirius did it all we know is that Prongs saved Snape’s life. And Snape hated James for that. Which to be fair if someone saved my life I would probably be pissed off too but that’s besides the point.

“Snape Loved Lily”

No. Snape has the same energy as the guy who I blocked on Instagram after I repeatedly told him to stop something and then made four accounts just to keep texting me and went as far as to find and harass my friends. Same Energy.

“Their patroni match UwU” shut up. No. James’s patronus was a stag a stags mate is a doe, Lily’s was a doe. Snape’s was a doe as well. Now listen I’m down for two dope ass lesbian does but as we know because J*R that was not the case. That was an obsession. If you think that’s what love it like you are going to have very toxic relationships in your life and quite honestly lowkey concerned for you and/or your future, current, and/or past partners.

“He’s a good teacher he was keeping up the act”

No! Teachers abusing students is a real thing, what’s ever worse (as if that’s already bad enough) school was Harry’s safe haven. Now you could say the same for Snape, sure but Snape could defend himself against the Marauders. Choose your fighter: Eleven year old Harry who just learned that magic was a thing and that his parents didn’t die in a car crash vs Thirty-One year old Snape, a teacher. Let me tell you as a person who was bullied by her peers, when my sixth grade math teacher called me stupid, it had a lot greater of an impact than a student pushing me into the lockers.

Teachers are supposed to teach regardless of if they want to fuck your mom or not. It wasn’t only Harry that he was terrible to either.

Also see this entire article to disprove your point:

https://www.learningforjustice.org/magazine/fall-2014/abuse-of-power

Sources:

https://isiarticles.com/bundles/Article/pre/pdf/130622.pdf

Also refer to the article above as well.

I am done with my source arguments here is just a fun tidbit

My abusers favorite character is Snape and and he said he fully understands Snape...

Anyways I will be sending this to all people who try to argue with me about Snape.

[petalsmooth]

Ok.

Let’s talk Lili.

First off we only know what stars put out about themselves or other people say about them. We are not friends with these people. We are not in their homes. We don’t usually hear what they say in unguarded conversation. What we know is what is out on social media with some highly distorted soundbites from chats or DM’s with her mother that were exposed.

We were initially presented a portrait pushed by her and her family no less of a middle class family with the standard girl next door hit it big narrative. Down to earth, relatable, somewhat quirky. Strong two parent supportive household. All that was missing were the apron and pearls.

This girl came out of the gates talking about a modernized Riverdale with two girls who would be actually close and not vying for the same redhead. Feel free to add/or correct along the way of course...especially early on when not following as closely.

We got very little in the way of insight into Cole and Lili because they were trying to keep it quiet even if there were hints together. Mostly during this period what fans were fed was that she was slightly awkward socially, maybe not the most intellectual but nice and harmless. She spoke of empowering women, independence, she constantly shut down the idea of Barchie and praised Bughead. Along through the year’s she would speak to social bullying or bullying in general. She would openly talk about struggles with mental health. She’d talk and show her cystic acne and share photos not all airbrushed in ode to body positivity. She’d talk about not having an hourglass figure, and cellulite and often go out in ratty shorts and a bun sans makeup. You see she’d talk about it then follow through by showing lived the walk or calling out photoshops done of her.

Again this is “relatable girl next door quirky Lili” we told was the REAL Lili.

She would frequently talk and post about her family and dogs at home and how much she loved and missed them...though oddly not so much her older sister.

At a certain point it became undeniable Cole and Lili were together to even the hardest deniers. Of course also the Met gala eventually made official for media.

We get have her liking posts such as Miley’s about how lucky she was to have a man who checked off all the boxes. But at times there were glimpses all wasn’t kosher. People have mentioned various cons where she’d be caught flirting somewhere else, or she’d be in a bad mood giving Cole a cold shoulder. We recently saw an old video of them walking and her basically demanding he drop the fans and attend her. We have the con were Camilla is sexually harassing Cole everywhere and Lili doesn’t shut it down until Camilla tries to grind on him. It was so bad even Mads intervened. We have the interview where she is talking over him or rolling her eyes and basically being the unprofessional brat her fans claim she is not. Even though it’s ON CAMERA. Snapping at your co worker/boyfriend and rolling your eyes during a professional interview is not deniable.

Flashforward to the trip to Italy because for me there was always something off about that. That trip was obviously planned far in advance. Clearly Lili was supposed to be there. Her fans quickly blamed Cole because Lili was working. Lili didn’t have to work. It wasn’t a career changing move to do that film. It did not do well. I’m not entirely sure what was happening around that time but I have the sense Cole was disappointed/a  little angry she prioritized it over him accepting very likely the offer AFTER the trip was planned.

Lili spirals during this time. Cole comes back to clean up mess. They are quiet on social media for a long time then slowly emerge again and eventually get the photo booth shots, the wedding and her mingling with NY friends for once. Turns out close to the end for them.

I don’t want to make this a Sprousehart post though although some relevance to bring part of it up. The point is Lili put her career over her relationship. It was a calculated decision. It was also the wrong decision. Her fans talk about her being this warm giving person but that was a cynical call and a pretty lousy thing to do to your boyfriend of several year’s. I’m all for supportive partners but there are time’s where you make sacrifices if you really care for someone and this was a special trip planned long in advance. She blew it off. If I’m the partner she does this too, I question why I’m putting in the effort if it doesn’t mean to them what it means to me. 

TBH I think the bad choices she made there is why tried to make it up by meeting with his friends, the wedding etc...

Something than clearly happened because by January they were done. Not sure we’ll ever know but it looked like they were trying to fix things given the happiness hadn’t seen on Cole’s faces in a long time in those booth pics and then...it was done. We didn’t know at the time, but this is timeline Cole gave. There was a brief attempt at reconciliation where she babysits him at a photo shoot and posts a photo of them in bed and then shortly after...Cole calls it off. 

He heads to LA, she follows him there but not without making sure to shove Casey’s face into her chest to post and rent a place close to where he is staying. She posts weepy messages about the world ending etc....and weird new photos mimicking old shoots with him so naturally people think this means whatever happened they worked through. Around same time she and hers manipulated her fans to try to cancel him earlier because she misunderstood a picture of Kaia....although flat out if he had been with Kaia he was SINGLE and it was no longer her business.

She tries to walk back the firestorm she unleashed on him by “defending” him from a lesser twitter trend after realizing misconstrued the Kaia picture, All summer she weirdly seems to be trying to avoid the topic if they are together or not despite saying once if they weren’t she’d tell people. She finally puts her foot in her mouth one two many times' and Cole confirms they broke up which she doesn’t acknowledge. Because she doesn’t want to be broken up.

As we know know it wasn’t all rainbows on the set even before all this happened as in the musical she’d launched an object at him hard enough to have the crew concerned. Lili fans keep saying Cole is abusive but the only evidence we have of abuse is her towards him. We also had her suddenly doing a 180 from past 4 year’s and excusing cheating with Archie and promoting everyone in her live recaps except Cole/Jughead.

Back to the events following Cole’s post....then we get a sudden string of interviews taking shots at Cole, doxxing him, implying he could have strayed (just to resurrect hate against him) but can’t say he actually did because she has no proof. We know this because in those chats admit it was just suspicion and paranoia and never did have any names.

We learn that Lili has been funneling news and gossip and photos to keep her mother’s hold on the fandom in check and her mother in turn has been bullying people who would stand on Cole’s side. They sought to ruin him. This is not debatable.

For year’s people had made fun and called Bree out for being an obsessive stalker unable to let a relationship go, then Lili starts doing the same. We know she has tried to copy Ari’s style, her mother made a snide comment about breast size, Lili tried to taunt Ari from on set and Ari shut her down. A girl who almost never was in the line of sight of paps suddenly is snapped everyday following break up even before the public new. That doesn’t just happen. She wanted the attention.

I’m not going to go into all of it, you all know it. Suffice to say revealing she has a bitter vindictive attitude she has submersed herself in ever since Cole made it clear no reunion. She won’t even broach the topic of Bughead/Jughead unless forced. You can spin all you like but the split screens was not an artistic choice by RD. It was spurred by need to keep them apart.

Lili last summer was doing precious little other than a post or two of Black Lives matter and then when Cole gets arrested suddenly she jumps on the me too and sets up impulsive lives. Maybe she meant well but a part of me thinks she did it to attract his attention. Notice once she got praise for it and the initial protests faded she more or less doesn’t bring it up anymore. Cole never intended to get attention, it just happened because he’s a star and got taken in to a jail cell. He never put himself on camera for notice. 

Lili also co-opts the murder of a girl to flaunt she thinks she looks good naked. Completely tone deaf. 

Lili very rarely is seen in fan photos, only usually when she’s getting flack for it online. She, a girl who talks about bullying, went on a  midnight tirade against a guy who dares to critique or poetry setting her fans on him. Then deleted it probably because publicist in her ear.

She first said poems not about Cole, than said you could read into what you wanted to sell them. Now she doesn’t want to talk poetry or sequels because it flopped and was critically panned.

There are constant rumors about Lili on sets of productions to point they even had someone on her newer movie try to downplay. Yet we see in a video the cast barely talking and looking tense on a boat. 

The girl who used to talk about body positivity now lets them airbrush abs onto her.

The girl who used to talk of therapy and mental illness now promotes OTC supplements for $ and cults.

If she mentions cellulite she uses other tik toks of people showing not her own. 

She said she would never be on tik tok, yet now has her own and post old videos that aren’t funny.

Lili once tired to attack Cole by talking about losing yourself in drugs or alcohol or sex yet we’ve seen her drug paraphernalia because she advertises. Her friends post and laugh over her being drunk. She was in an off and on relationship with Wallis that doesn’t seem to be about anything but sex.

We were told Coles friends are bad influences but Taylor is out there solicitating questionable clients and making videos slamming LILI’S COWORKER as a bad actor and his brother,

The majority of Lili’s posts no longer feature Sunny or her family/Addy. 

She insulted Vancouver, compared to a prison, and made it clear her creature comforts were of more importance than a pandemic. Not quite the attitude of an empath. Which she claims she is with intention to be a master which require sucking more gullible people into the cult.

She brags about being a “rich man” without understand the context. She went from artistic photos to modeling pinups to fuel her lack of self esteem.

She’s in her mid 20′s, claims she had grown and matured in the last year but there is no evidence of it. Still can’t work with her ex without buffers which still influences show direction though her fans deny.. Still lives off junk food and hangovers. Those glasses aren’t just for sun. Her timeline is mostly an ode to her vanity with pictures of herself and then her dog. She doesn’t seem to have any causes she’s deeply involved in on the side apart from her cult. She’s still stalking Cole as her impulsive makeup tutorial showed. She said she cut out of her life anyone who doesn’t service her. I highly doubt she is receiving quality therapy on the regular right now. She still does not seem to possess the ability to own her mistakes and apologize when warranted, rather deflects or erases when heat becomes too hot.

The content she puts out about herself post break up is very different than the bill of goods fans were sold before. She is a far cry from that quirky girl next door that stood FOR something more than vanity and shallow affirmation. So no, I don’t see what you see in her stans. Everything that once seemed to distinguish her from other spoilt princesses has long faded. 

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

SHAN SHAN

hear me out

but

fuyumi.

can you imagine being her?

like

i hc that she's forced herself to think of everything as better than it is. for her sake and her brothers'. but she's so strong too! we've never seen any maid in the todoroki house, so im guessing that fuyumi does all the work. can you imagine how hard that is?

she deserves so much more love.

I don't have to imagine it. I've met many girls in that type of families and it's totally normal for them to become a second mother for the other siblings and even a sort of defender for the parents.

Why? Because they only want the family they couldn't have and they want to help, to stop the screaming and the arguing and the beating, they just want to be happy like they were supposed to be when they were kids.

And that's valid. I'm tired of people going against Fuyumi because she wants her family back and well. She's a victim like all her brothers, she lost a mom she barely saw during her childhood, she tried to help Touya, she cared about Natsuo, and she's a woman with a job taking her of her home, doing all she can to help others feel good.

And it take some guts to be like that. It take some guts to believe that your abuser can become a better person, it takes some guts to keep yourself upright when everything around you is broken and falling apart. All the Todorokis are valid, all their ways of dealing with their trauma are valid, all their anger, sadness, confusion and hope.

Fuyumi Todoroki is an excellent character and there are many many real persons seeing themselves in her, and they also deserve to know they are valid, their way of dealing with their trauma is valid, I am proud of them.

[danggerine]

haru could've been about how abuse victims can have contradictory feelings about their abusers especially when the abuse comes from their family

or she could've been the only one of the pts not to forgive akechi (maybe along with futaba) and have an interesting dynamic with him while also forwarding the idea that redemption =/= total forgiveness

but she's a """waifu""" and has to be marketable so she does not get character

yes!!!! and haru’s feelings are contradictory on multiple levels too! within okumura’s palace she’s aware of how poorly she and all his employees have been treated and is willing to ruin his life to remedy that, but she also can’t stifle her familial affection for him and her desire to gain his approval. but after he dies she contradicts THAT contradiction by rewriting her perception of her father as a martyr who she needs to get vengeance for and defend the honor of. like does she feel guilty hating him so soon after his death, especially after being blamed for it, and so she’s jumping into her righteous heroine persona to figure out her feelings? is it too hard to cling to his faults when he’s no longer there to enact them against her, especially when the last time she saw him he was trying to confess and be a better person? is she looking for something to hold onto to motivate her after her whole world goes to shit and so she chooses the next most obvious wrong to right? some combination of all of those??

plus haru’s dynamic with akechi is especially interesting to this not only because he’s at the very center of her complicated grief, but because in a lot of ways his relationship to Shido is so similar to hers with Okumura. and haru totally recognizes that! she sympathizes with him even though she could never forgive him! who knows, maybe akechi hates her for being so similar but still being a stable person trying to do good afterwards! literally they could have been such good foils if only p5 put any effort into haru’s character

like the way she talks about her dad and the way she feels about akechi is sooooooo crazy interesting if you’re willing to run down rabbit holes with the few handfuls of dialogue haru gets about it, but without writing half her character yourself canon really just reads like atlus wrote haru to fill their plot needs and stitched a personality on after. like “oh, we need a new character for this palace and a reason the pts absolutely have to go after okumura? here save his daughter,” “oh we need someone to remind the player that akechi murdered people and that had consequences? well, futaba already had her dead parent arc and haru’s dad died so that can be her character now.” bottom line the game doesn’t respect haru enough to make her make sense but i sure fucking do

[all-that-tmnt-jazz]

I see a lot of hcs based on fem readers with Daddy Issues, but how would the guys react to having a male s/o with Mommy Issues?

💚💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: Swearing. Emotional abuse. Signs/descriptions of physical abuse.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: Masc!Reader.

You Speaking; Mother Speaking

Leo:

He could tell your mental state was declining

You were becoming more and more isolated within yourself

You became more protective of yourself

You flinch when people around you move too fast

You refuse to go into his arms when he offers you a hug

So, he decides to talk to you about it

You tell him everything’s fine

“Well, obviously that’s wrong. Anyone can tell.”

You just don’t respond

You go back to your mother’s apartment

It was no longer home to you, just a place of residence

It has been for far too long now

That night, Leo came to the apartment

He found the window of your room open, so he knew you weren’t completely pushing him away

He entered your room silently, knowing your mom was likely right down the hall

But when he looked at your bed, he found it empty

He went to the door of your room, which- luckily- remained closed

He pressed his ear to it, trying to listen to the other side

He heard yelling

His heart started racing, and he considered leaving your bedroom to come to your aid

But then he realized it was your voice

You were defending yourself

But then a louder voice overpowered yours

His heart dropped into his stomach

“You are such an ungrateful child! I give you everything you ever need and you still ask for more! I give you a roof and a bed and food, and yet you expect that comes for free!”

“I know it’s not free! I just want-”

“You want everything you don’t need!”

“I want a fucking mother!”

“You have one!”

He heard a loud slap of skin against skin

Then footsteps

Then the door handle turning

He backed away from the door, praying it was you

And it was

You were near tears, and they were about to spill over 

But then you saw him, and you closed the door behind you as hard as you could without slamming it

“What are you doing here?” you whispered to him, harsher than you would have in any other situation

“I was worried about you, Love. And this proved me right.”

You start crying.

He offers you his arms

You nearly fall into them

He holds you close, whispering words of comfort and protection into your hair until you fall asleep

Raph:

You had always been a bit closed off when it came to talking about your parents

He figured that you didn’t talk about them because no one really really liked talking about their parents

So, he let it be

But then he goes to your apartment one night while your mother is out, and he sees it

A large bruise on your cheek and jaw that looks like a handprint

He feels like he could fight the entire population of New York City if it meant hurting the person who hit the person he loves

But you stop him, telling him it’s happened before and it’ll happen again

That only fuels his fire

He demands to know who did it, but you refuse

He starts begging you

You have never seen him beg

When he finds out it was your mother, he breaks

He has to go up to the rooftop and start screaming

You’ve seen him angry, yes, but never like this

He goes back to the Lair, seething

He wants to ask Donnie to search down your mother’s place of work so he can give her hell

But you had told him to keep it between the two of you

So, he made sure he was able to help take care of you 

Patching your physical wounds, and was gentle with you to help heal the emotional ones

This lasted a few months

Then, one night, you arrived at the Lair with a backpack on your shoulder and a duffel bag in hand

Leo was the one who found you collapsed on the ground, as he was the first to enter the Lair after patrol

Raph, however, was the one who picked you up like one would a young child

He brought you to Donnie’s lab for a check-up and told Mikey to put your bag onto Raph’s bunk

Leo got you some snacks from the kitchen

When you were deemed alright, Raph was left alone with you

He asked what happened

“I got away… I went to police headquarters, and Jade recognized me- Vincent’s assistant. I… She’s been arrested, Raph…”

Raph’s eyes widened

“She… She is?”

You nodded, nearing tears

“I left after a fight worse than usual- I’m covered in bruises, and I have months worth of evidence on my phone. They took her in for child abuse and we go to court next week.”

He takes you in his arms to hold you but is very careful to not hurt you

“I’m so proud of you, darling,” he says to you

“I…. I’m going to be emancipated… I’m free…”

You had never heard him cry before

Donnie:

He notices the signs right away

He sees your eyes glaze over when he mentions your mother

He sees you hesitant to leave the Lair when you know you have to go back to your apartment

He sees you flinch whenever Raph and Leo start going at each other’s throats

He sees you flinch when Mikey moves too fast around the Lair, especially if he’s going vaguely in your direction

He takes you into his lab one day to talk about it

“It’s nothing, I… My mother and I have a weird relationship, that’s all.”

That’s all you would say about it

A few weeks later, you come to him, seething

You make him stop whatever he’s doing and press him against his lab table, capturing his lips in your own

You two participate in Adult Fun Time™ right on his lab table

It isn’t your first time doing this together, but it is the first time that it happened suddenly

“What was that for?” he asks you afterward

“I… I wanted to prove my mother wrong, even if I’m the only one who knows that it happened,” you tell him

He gives you a slightly confused look

“I… She… She told me…”

He sees how anxious you got 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it-”

“She told me no one will love me, and that no one will want to be with me. Physically.”

Donnie’s heart breaks a lot more than he’d like to admit

He pulls you to his plastron and sits in his chair, holding you

“I could never imagine leaving you. You are perfect- especially to me.”

Mikey:

If Mikey and Raph’s room had a door, you would have slammed it as you entered

You were glad Mikey was alone in the room, laying on his bed while using his phone

You fell onto his bed next to him, letting him habitually wrap his arms around you

He felt how tense you are and immediately turned off his phone

“Talk to me, angel,” he says to you

You huddle into him, letting him hold you a little bit tighter

“My mom’s being a prick again.”

“What did she say?”

You hated how close you were to crying

“She… I showed her the song I made. She told me it’s awful and I won’t make it…”

Mikey kissed your hair

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“I fucking know that…” you mutter

He continued to hold you, whispering words of comfort until you fell into a dreamless sleep

That conversation happened a few years ago now.

You were finally able to move out of your mother’s grasp and drop contact with her, but you remained in the city

You were becoming more and more successful

And then, you get a call: you were going to become an official artist

A record company heard your work and wanted to officially produce your music

Mikey is the first person you told

He celebrated with you

A few days later, while you were at the Lair, you get another call that was rather unwanted

“Y/n, when were you going to tell me you were becoming official?” your mother asked you

“I wasn’t.”

“How come? I always knew you would make it-”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

With that, you hung up

Mikey, who overheard the conversation, let you scream into his pillow and he rubbed your back

[the-bau-quinjet]

Sore

I don’t love what this idea turned into, because it was supposed to be lighthearted, but it really spiraled. I will say, I like the ending.

Summary: Reader breaks down after a tough case. Spencer is there to help. 

Warnings: mentions on child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, unhealthy coping mechanisms, therapy

Word Count: 2930

She didn’t mean to overdo it, but sometimes it’s inevitable. It’s her only escape.

 The team just finished up a domestic violence cult case in Laramie, Wyoming. It took six days for them to even realize the cult aspect, having been trying to connect the victims to one offender. The case was draining for everyone, but especially for her.

Everyone in the BAU has some kind of past trauma. Nobody randomly decides to do this kind of work for a living without some significant inspiration. Over her time in the BAU, Y/N has come to learn about these traumas and how they’ve shaped the people around her. She has yet to share hers though. Not because she doesn’t trust them, but rather because she only ever talks about it to her therapist. She’s made significant progress in coping with her trauma, but she hasn’t worked through it enough to bring it up herself.

 Of course, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work so she found a way to relieve the stress. Exercise. It’s never been a problem before now. She’s never overdone it before. If a case has her thinking about it, or she’s having a particularly bad day, she’ll do a HIIT or fully body workout until she’s tired enough that her brain shuts off.

 Her therapist is working with her to limit the bad days. Honestly, since joining the BAU her bad days have been rather infrequent. There’s just too much else to worry about for her to think about her own problems.

 But this case hit too close to home. Every new victim and every new piece of evidence reminded Y/N of what it was like growing up with abusive parents. She went into foster care at 15. Three years later, she went to college and did everything in her power to forget it.

 But history has a way of repeating itself. Her college boyfriend hurt her. It started small. He grew controlling, accused her of cheating, and then tried to beat the “truth” out of her. She finally left him, only to wind up with another guy who wouldn’t take no as an answer. So she stopped dating. She threw herself into her work, trying to rid the world of men like those of her past. That’s what lead her to the BAU.

 The group of profilers on the jet could all tell something was off, but Y/N isn’t one to be pushed into opening up. They know she’ll come to them when she’s ready to talk about it. Whatever “it” is. So, rather than poking and prodding, each member shows they are there for her in their own way.

 Derek and Emily each give her a hug before departing, something reserved for after especially difficult cases. Rossi squeezes her shoulder, much how she would imagine a loving parent to. JJ offers a kind smile, the one that always brings you joy, and reassuring eyes before heading out for the day. Hotch gives her less paperwork than everyone else. Penelope sends her extra videos of cute animals to lift her spirits. And Spencer stays by her side for the entire flight. Normally, Spencer would sprawl out on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he always lacks. Instead, he sits beside Y/N and offers her the blanket he typically uses, calming her nerves with the gentle swishing of pages being turned in his book of the hour.

 With everything on her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She should call her therapist, but they aren’t landing until 9:30 pm and she knows Dr. Robbins has a family of her own. So, she treats it like she used to treat a bad day. She finds a workout to do, and puts every last ounce of energy into the different exercises.

 Only, it doesn’t work like it used to. After completing the nearly hour long workout, her mind is still whirring with the pictures from the evidence board. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face, and hears his drunken yelling. Her mother in the background, unbothered because she only had Y/N so he would have a new punching bag.

 So, she finds another workout. And then another. And then another. After three more hours, she’s finally exhausted her brain into tuning out the memories long enough for her to sleep.

 She sleeps for most of Saturday, waking only long enough to shower and eat dinner. Sunday morning, the memories are back. So, she’s back to working out.

She knows in her head that it isn’t healthy, but the logical part of her brain isn’t exactly functioning at its highest level. All she’s focused on is making the pain go away. If turning the emotional pain into physical pain is what it takes, then so be it. She’d rather have the aching muscles.

 All of that, lead her to now. It’s Monday morning and she can barely walk like a normal person. Every step requires more energy than the last. Hell, she can’t even sit down without falling into the chair.

 The elevator doors spring open, revealing the glass doors that lead to the BAU bullpen. She walks in as best she can, tossing her bag on her desk with a dull thud. Of course, she’s later than normal and so Spencer and Morgan are sitting at their desks, watching as she throws herself into her chair.

 “Hi Y/N…” Spencer trails off when he sees the bags under her eyes and notices her stiff posture. “Um, are you alright?” Spencer’s puppy like concern warms her heart.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. I just did a little too much at the gym this weekend is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.” She tries to hide the underlying emotional stress behind why she did too much. Morgan can tell she’s hiding something though, even if he is way off base about what it is.

 “Yeah, the gym.” Morgan snorts his response, cutting Spencer off before he could start rambling about how to combat the negative effects of too much exercise and simultaneously drawing the attention of Emily and JJ who were reentering the bullpen after getting coffee.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ questions before Y/N can defend herself.

 “Little mama over here is sore from too much time at ‘the gym’.” It’s clear to her, and nearly everyone else in the room, that Morgan thinks she is sore from being absolutely railed. Suddenly all eyes are on her. It’s just too much for her to take. The combination of mental and physical exhaustion crossed with not wanting to talk about it causes her to break.

 She’s not sure what thought process her brain is following when she replies. Actually, she’s pretty confident her brain isn’t functioning at all when she starts speaking. Her words are painfully quiet, lacking the typical edge one would expect from someone so mentally and physically exhausted. She sounds broken. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was in the gym for four hours Friday night and seven more yesterday, so excuse me if I’m a little bit stiff. It’s hard to work in time to stretch afterward when you’ve finally exhausted yourself enough to sleep without having to worry about remembering-.” With tears in her eyes, she cuts herself off, pushes herself from her chair, and starts the walk toward Hotch’s office, stopping to whisper her gratitude to Reid. “Spence, thank you for checking in on me.”

 Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid share confused glances as she opens and closes the door to Hotch’s office without even knocking.

 “Hotch, I think I need to go home. I- I need to talk to someone and I can’t do that if I’m here.” She manages to mutter out the words without fully breaking down, but Hotch can still clearly see something is wrong.

 “If that’s what you need to do, please go ahead. I just want you to know that we’re here for you too. You’ve been part of this team for a little over two years now. None of us want you to feel like you have to keep it all to yourself. Unfortunately nightmares come with the job, but I want you to know we all-” He stops talking as the tears begin to stream down her face. Rising from his seat, he walks around his desk to offer her support.

 Without even sparing it a second thought, Y/N collapses into his arms. She’s too exhausted to hide her emotions anymore. It’s all become too much.

 “I just can’t keep it in anymore. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of me from all of you, and I just don’t want to anymore.” It’s not exactly how she pictured letting it all out, but it makes sense. She’s hit a wall and there’s no way forwards but through.

 “Shh, it’s okay. What do you need?” Hotch is protective over his entire team, but something about Y/N makes him feel like an older brother. Like it’s his job to protect her from anything and everything he can.

 “I just want to go home. I need a break from remembering it all.” Hotch nods in understanding, reaching for his coat.

 “I’ll take you now.”

 “Actually, can Spencer take me? I want to tell him first. And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry? It wasn’t fair to say that. He didn’t know.” Hotch guides her out of his office, promising that Morgan wouldn’t hold it against her.

 “Reid, take L/N home.” Spencer nods in understanding, already reaching for Y/N’s keys since he takes the metro.

 It feels like hours have gone by, but it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes before Spencer was sitting next to her on her couch in her apartment. They didn’t talk at all on the drive. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but at a much less alarming rate.

 “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.” Spencer has never felt less equipped to handle a situation. His years of learning everything there is to know haven’t prepared him for seeing the one person he cares about more than anyone else in the world so broken.

 “No. I- I want to tell you. But I need you to do me a favor afterward.” She sniffles, slowly looking into his eyes.

 “I’ll do anything you need me to.” His words are so sincere, it almost brings about another round of sobs.

 “After I tell you, I need you to tell everyone else. I just know I won’t be able to force myself to relive it more than once, so if I tell you, then you can tell everyone else because-”

 “I’ll remember exactly what you say.” He nods to himself, thinking she picked him for his memory rather than because of any potential feelings.

 “Well, yeah. But, also I wanted you to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of you hearing it from anyone else. I wanted to look into your eyes when I say it all for the first time without being with my therapist because I know you will still look at me the same way afterward. You won’t treat me any different because you know what it’s like to feel like the baby of the group and as much as everyone else cares, with you it’s different. I just know you’ll understand what I need in a way nobody else will because you’ve always been able to read me, even when I tried to hide it.” She manages a weak smile in his direction, taking a deep breath to prevent anymore ramblings.

 “I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I- thank you for trusting me enough to be here for you.” For the first time since meeting Y/N, Spencer feels like she might feel the same way about him that he feels about her. Of course, now isn’t the time to act on it, but it still fills him with a confidence he would have otherwise been lacking.

 Before she starts talking again, Y/N reaches for Spencer’s hand. An action he would quickly come to understand is a big deal for her.

 “As far back as I can remember, I never had anyone who cared about me. My dad, he would hit my mom. When she got pregnant, she saw it as a way out. He stopped hitting her because she told him once I was born, he would have his own personal punching bag, but I had to actually be born for that to happen. I don’t really know when he started hitting me. If I was an infant or a toddler or whatever. But it’s all I can remember of them.” Spencer begins rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb when he hears her breathing speed up.

 “It was like that until I managed to tell one of my teachers there was something wrong. I was fifteen when I was placed in foster care. I switched between homes until I went to college on scholarship.” Spencer does his best to provide comfort to you, but he can tell there’s more to the story.

 “Freshmen year of college a met a guy. We started dating, and I thought I found someone who cared, ya know? But, he started to get angry at the smallest things. He would lash out, break things. One day he started hitting me, forcing me to do things.” She takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was more prepared this time though. I had a therapist I could call. She helped me work up the courage to leave him. But then right after graduating I met another guy and it all turned out the same.” Silent tears pour down her face as she continues.

 “I felt trapped. Like there was no way for me to escape the cycle. No matter what I did differently I kept meeting people who hurt me to deal with their own pain. I gave it all up, figured I’d never find people who would care about me. I focused on work, made it to the BAU. On bad days, I would work out until I was so tired I couldn’t remember my own name let alone the things they had done to me. Then when I met all of you, it felt too good to be true. There was this whole team of people who suddenly cared about me. It was hard at first, to accept that it was real. But you have to know I never thought any of you would hurt me, it was just in my head that I would never have this kind of familial bond with anyone.

 This last case, I don’t know what it was about it, but I couldn’t stop seeing the evidence boards. The faces of women who were passed around from man to man as objects to abuse. So, I fell back into my old habit. Only, it didn’t work like it used to so I just kept going and going until I could escape.” The tears slowed as she managed to get everything off her chest. All that could be heard in the room was her ragged breaths.

 “Y/N, I… I can’t imagine how difficult that was to share.” Spencer shifted closer to her, but not too close in case she didn’t want the touch.

 “I’ve always felt like the team- like you would understand. I’ve been working on it in therapy actually. Figuring out a way to tell you all, but I guess I hit the proverbial wall first...” She’s shaking her head as she looks at the floor.

 “Hey, none of that. I know self-deprecation when I see it, and I will not tolerate it from you.” His words carry a gentle conviction. “You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you take down unsubs three times your size with pure physical strength. I’ve also seen you talk an unsub down, saving countless lives without laying a hand on them. Never doubt that you are strong enough for this job, because you are one of the strongest people I know.”

 Spencer’s words bring tears to her eyes, but the happy kind this time. She throws her arms around him, snuggling as close as she can. Spencer, at first surprised by the contact, freezes. He quickly melts into her embrace, rubbing circles into her back until she falls asleep.

 Spencer manages to fill the team in via text, explaining enough that everyone understands what happened without having to go into too much detail. He helps her move to her bedroom, trying to prevent any more soreness. When she asks him to stay, he lays down by her side.

 The next morning she wakes up cuddled next to Spencer with several texts from her BAU family. Rossi invited everyone to his house for dinner, an offer she greatly appreciates.

 That night, the team shows her what it feels like to have a family over pasta and wine, a classic combination. In the future, they’ll continue to show her what family really is.

 Spencer will show her what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship. He’ll show her how it feels to be loved without living in constant fear. She’ll show him what it means to be loved for who you are.

 They’ll show each other what it means to be happy.

  tag list:

@mac99martin​

[robininthelabyrinth]

what do you think would happen in a role swap where wei wuxian is the one with an arranged marriage, yanli becomes sect leader, and jiang cheng runs away with the remnants of the wen clan?

“It’s impossible,” Wen Qing said, her voice flat and eyes icy. “Literally impossible. It would kill you both.”

“But –”

“If you don’t care about your own life, at least care about his,” she said, and Wei Wuxian fell silent; she’d hit him right where it hurt the most, and he turned and stormed away.

Wen Qing waited, watching as Wen Ning ran after him, distressed by his distress, and when he was finally out of earshot, she said, “You may regret that, one day.”

Behind her there was a rusty bark of laughter, if that horrible twisted sound, low and grating and rasping at the throat until it bled, could be called a laugh.

“I won’t,” Jiang Cheng said. She’d removed the needles that kept him asleep the day before, though he’d played limp any time Wei Wuxian had come around, and Wei Wuxian had been so excited by his idea that he hadn’t noticed. “Thank you for lying to him.”

“My family killed yours,” she said with a sigh. “The least I can do is save one.”

“If you regret it so much, you can abandon your office and surrender yourself,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned away from her. He hadn’t forgiven her, that much was obvious. “You lead a Supervisory Office. That isn’t a neutral position.”

“I have to keep my brother, and the others, safe,” she said. “You understand that.”

“I understand it. I just think you’re wrong.”

“How am I wrong? Your Jiang sect is gone,” she said, twisting the knife cruelly. “Wen Ruohan has over half the cultivation world under his grip – how are the rest of you going to overcome that?”

“I didn’t say we would win,” Jiang Cheng said. “I said you were wrong.”

Wen Qing opened her mouth and found she had nothing to say. That wasn’t a condition that came naturally to her, so she scowled and changed the subject. “What are you going to do next?”

“Rebuild the Jiang sect.”

“The Jiang sect? But – how…?”

He turned back to look at her. “My golden core is gone, and I’m a good-for-nothing,” he said flatly. “That much is true. But you forget – I still have a sister.”

Jiang Yanli wasn’t a fighter; this much was true. She wept bitter tears when Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian finally found their way to her side, horrified by what Jiang Cheng had suffered, what had happened to him. But fighter or no fighter, she knew her duty.

The Jiang Sect had its first mistress. She could not lead them in war – Wei Wuxian did that – but she tended their wounds and sat in all the strategy meetings, giving her thoughts and making the final decision with her brothers’ advice; those who became sect disciples did not feel that their gentle lady, who they came to worship as Guanyin reborn in human form, was anything less than the rest.

“We need more help,” Jiang Cheng, who had become one of his sister’s advisors and learned through painful experience how to ignore (but never not notice) all of the pitying stares that came his way, said. “We’re not doing as much in the war as the other Sects – if we don’t establish a strong alliance with one of them, and soon, we will very soon lose the right to call ourselves a Great Sect.”

“A marriage,” Jiang Yanli said, understanding at once. “But I can’t…”

She was Sect Leader, now. She could not marry the heir of another sect – she would only be able to accept a man who married in, who would agree that his children be named Jiang.

The Jiang sect had to come first.

Whatever dreams she had once had about Jin Zixuan were gone now, burned to ashes in a way that not even a broken engagement could.

“Not you,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian looked up sharply. “You want to marry me off?” he asked. “Are you serious?”

Jiang Cheng laughed harshly. It still didn’t sound like a laugh, not even after all these months. “What,” he said mockingly, his bitter voice eerily reminiscent of his mother’s at her most furious. “You expect a cultivator to marry me?”

Wei Wuxian fell silent. It was not that cultivators didn’t marry regular people – it happened quite often. But an arranged marriage, for the purposes of building an alliance?

Even if no children could be expected from the match – it would have to be a cutsleeve marriage, given the lack of daughters among the Four Great Sect, but such things were not uncommon if the real purpose was a political alliance – the minimum requirement for making such an offer was a cultivation base sufficient for dual cultivation. Anything less would be an insult – the same as sentencing the cultivator to a dead end.

The same dead end that Jiang Cheng faced every day.

“Who were you thinking?” Wei Wuxian finally asked. “If you even dare suggest the peacock –”

“Lan Wangji.”

“What?! But he hates me!”

“He’s the best available option,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’s strict in terms of etiquette; regardless of his feelings, he won’t mistreat you. Jin Zixuan is obviously out – even if you didn’t hate him, his parents would never agree to a match with no chance of legitimate descendants, and we’d never accept one of Jin Guangshan’s bastards; it would leave us with no face at all.”

“What about Nie Huaisang?”

“No influence,” Jiang Cheng said simply, and Wei Wuxian grimaced, conceding the point. Even if Nie Mingjue could be coaxed into an agreement, no one in the cultivation world would ever think that the wife of his little brother had any impact on his decisions, and that would defeat the whole purpose of this endeavor. Nie Mingjue was too straightforward, too rigid – marrying Nie Huaisang would be as good as throwing Wei Wuxian’s life away for no purpose.

And that left – Lan Wangji.

“Well, whatever he thinks of me, I always rather liked him,” Wei Wuxian said, not looking at Jiang Cheng – the memories of the accusations tossed around after the Xuanwu’s cave, why did you have to stand up for him, still lingered in his ear. “Gloomy and humorless as he may be. Do you think he’ll agree?”

“I’ll take one of the guards to go find out,” Jiang Cheng said. He ignored their involuntary wince at the reminder that he couldn’t go himself – weak, helpless, vulnerable, not to mention unable to fly on a sword by himself – and took his leave.

He came back with an agreement, and just like that Wei Wuxian found himself engaged.

It didn’t change anything, though the Jiang Sect partnered more and more often with the Lan sect on missions – Wei Wuxian found that he enjoyed fighting back to back with Lan Wangji, and enjoyed teasing him even more – and the war dragged on for a long time, the tides turning against Wen Ruohan only very slowly, battle by battle, inch by hard-won inch.

But in the end, they won.

They won, and stood together at Phoenix Mountain to celebrate their victory.

Wei Wuxian allowed himself to breath a sigh of relief, and shared smiles with Jiang Yanli. Jiang Cheng didn’t smile, he didn’t do that anymore, his brow always creased in anger, but he nodded and allowed Wei Wuxian to wrap an arm around both their shoulders.

The three of them together – broken, damaged, but together.

If Wei Wuxian had known that that would be the last time they’d stand together, the three of them together the way they’d promised they would be, he would have cherished it more.

But who would have thought that within three days of Phoenix Mountain, Jiang Cheng – ordinary Jiang Cheng, with no golden core, with nothing but angry determination – would accuse the Jin Sect of horrific abuses, and then, when he got no satisfactory answer, kidnap an entire set of war prisoners from the Wen sect out from right under the Jin Sect’s nose?

Everyone demanded to know where he’d taken them, and didn’t believe them when they said they didn’t know.

Lan Wangji didn’t even ask, merely leaned his shoulder against Wei Wuxian’s, and Wei Wuxian’s heart softened, thankful.

He’d be less thankful when he found out that Lan Wangji had helped Jiang Cheng do what he did and then refused to share where he’d gone, citing a solemn oath that he’d taken, but at that moment he found himself thinking – at least I have you.

They had some fights when the truth came out – Lan Wangji confessed – but it ended up being something he could forgive, especially when it turned out that Wen Qing had been the one to ask, and Wen Ning very nearly killed by the indifferent guards; it had been the right thing to do.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t even known what the Wens had done for him. He’d only known what it felt like to have nothing, to suffer endlessly, and he’d done the right thing.

Just as it was the right thing for Jiang Yanli to break ties with her brother, to cast him out of the sect that he had once been the heir of, her eyes full of tears even as she did it; anything else would have opened her sect up to reprisals it couldn’t afford, weakened as it was. Until Wei Wuxian’s marriage was finalized, they lacked the strength to defend him.

Unsurprisingly, their very next move was to set the date for the wedding.

Wei Wuxian spent the entire two months leading up to it biting his fingers until blood flowed, hoping against hope, and his faith was rewarded when Jiang Cheng, abhorred by the entire cultivation world, ignored all common sense to come to visit him the day before the ceremony.

“You make a terrible bride,” Jiang Cheng said, voice gruff, and Wei Wuxian forgot himself and tried to tackle him the way he used to; it was only Lan Wangji catching him and holding him back that reminded him that he couldn’t do that anymore, that Jiang Cheng wasn’t a cultivator, that his body had grown weak for lack of spiritual energy. “Really, look at you – who told you red was your color?”

“Red has always been my color,” Wei Wuxian shot back, grinning. “It’s not my fault it clashes with purple.”

He didn’t comment on Jiang Cheng’s clothing, the dull colors of a rogue cultivator.

“I’m glad you came,” he said instead. “I came up with something for you.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be bringing gifts,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “And now you’re going to blow them all out of the water by comparison, since it’s not like we have any money…what is it?”

Wei Wuxian handed him the book he’d written.

“Cultivation of resentful energy?” Jiang Cheng read, and scowled at him. “Did Hanguang-jun tell you were I’m living?”

“He said it had the worst feng shui he’d ever seen, but nothing more than that,” Wei Wuxian said, a little annoyed but not very: he’d gotten Lan Wangji to promise that he would tell him once they were wed, since spouses shouldn’t keep secrets from each other. He’d gotten Lan Wangji to promise quite a lot of things, actually; it turned out the man actually liked him, and not just a little – who knew when that had happened? Luckily for them both, Wei Wuxian liked him back just as much. “It’s as orthodox as Lan Wangji and I could get it, given that it’s intrinsically, well, not. Every possible precaution against it turning into – uh –”

“Demonic cultivation.”

“…yes. That. Any type of cultivation that uses resentful energy damages the temperament, body and heart, but there are more orthodox ways to go about it that minimize the impact. We borrowed quite a bit from the Nie sect, prepare yourself, but anyway, you’re already so pissy, who would even notice if you got angry more often?”

The Nie clan’s cultivation gave them immense power but short lives – but not as short as a regular person who didn’t cultivate at all.

“Get lost!”

“It’s worth a try, okay?”

Jiang Cheng didn’t look convinced, so Wei Wuxian pulled out his trump card. “If it works, you could use Zidian again.”

Years later, Wei Wuxian would wonder about what he unleashed into the world that day, but right then there was nothing more than the longing in Jiang Cheng’s eyes, the first spark of purple lightning in years, and the first smile Wei Wuxian had seen on Jiang Cheng’s face since even longer.

No matter how it turned out – it was all worth it.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You

Genre: Romance , Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,1K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?) 

*Not all chapters have these but I’m letting this like general because as a series I think it’s better if I warn all of them at once instead of warning out of nowhere since I’ve already written some chapters*

Notes: The “Angst/Hurt/Confort” is related to the plot and how the characters will build their relationship, therefore it’ll be mentioned more than once through the chapters. Although I don’t think I made it really distressing nor anything like that, please be aware of the Warnings if you don’t feel comfortable with the themes <3

This is an EXTREMELY slow burn, if you don’t like those, I don’t think you’ll enjoy the fanfic  :’(

Updates: I’ll update it once a week because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                    ////

   Hate: a) To feel extreme enmity towards something or someone: Regard with active hostility; b) To have a strong aversion: Find very distasteful.

   Regarding all emotions someone could ever feel, you didn’t think something could be more powerful than hatred.

    What in the world could be more powerful than disliking someone to the point you couldn’t even stand their presence? It meant you would prefer to leave rather than stay. Nothing could ever beat that. Nothing. People could do insane things moved by it. Things no one should ever think about doing nor do at all for that matter. Things that could hurt and destroy everything around someone’s life.

   Even though common sense stated love was blind, you thought that maybe hate was blinder… Maybe hate was the one who blinded love. Who knew? You were sure hatred moved people to do the undoable. So what could be a better answer to your professor’s question? What was the most powerful feeling in the world?

   “Fear” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. You didn’t know if it was the black hair, the dark eyes, or that pretty face everyone felt the urge to ogle but somehow Hyunjin had that funny effect on people around him. It was like people needed to hear him, like he held some kind of mesmerizing voice that made people believe he was a wise man on a young body.

   He wasn’t.

   “How is fear greater than hate?” You scoffed, wondering why people looked at him like he knew what he was talking about “I never saw someone actively doing something because of fear but people actually make decisions based on hatred” You pointed out, smirking at him. Hyunjin couldn’t possibly retort you because you were right, and sooner or later he would have to admit it.

   “I believe you didn’t quite understand the professor’s question, my dear” He had this ridiculous accent like he was British when he clearly wasn’t, and you couldn’t help but grimace at him before he continued “He asked what is the most powerful emotion not what emotion prompt people to do something… I must say that if an emotion paralyzes you to the point you can’t make a decision ─ as you pointed out yourself─ it must be quite powerful, don’t you agree?” He had that smug look on his face, suggesting he thought he had won your argument, and you would gladly wipe that smug grin out of there if Paris didn’t interrupt you.

   “Excuse me but I think it’s love” Her voice sounded polite even though you knew she thought Hyunjin was being dumb “If fear is something that paralyzes someone and that is your argument for power, I think love can beat fear, so it’s obviously more powerful” She stated, not bothering to defend her arguments.

  Typical Paris.

   “In what world love beats fear?” He jeered, looking at her as if she was growing a third head “I’m sorry to disappoint you, darling, but life isn’t a fairy-tale” He pouted mockingly.

  What a despicable guy.

  “It’s well known that love can make someone so eager to protect another thing that you could simply ignore your fears and get stronger. Mothers can lift a car to free their child, soldiers can fight harder if they have someone to go back to! And if you consider the paralyzing feeling, knowing love can beat this would mean it’s stronger than fear… When you love you can do or give up on doing things just to be able to protect something you love” She stated proudly before you looked at your professor expecting his verdict.

   Like on cue, the bell rang, announcing your class was over.

   And so did he, waving dismissively to all of you to go.

   Great, so it was a kind of philosophical game for him.

   Your pointless argument ended up with nothing but a bunch of opinions you couldn’t say was right; and when it came to insisting on being right there was just one person in this world you could say you almost hated… Hyunjin. He came to you with his signature─ a smug grin that made you want to punch his face every day─, getting in your way to pack your things as he picked up one of your pencils, spinning it between his fingers. You didn’t even make the effort to ask it back, settling for extending your palm up, so he would give it back to you.

   “Paris may have a point but I beat you” Should you punch his face for real someday? Probably not. You should keep good grades and a perfect image so you could keep your scholarship. What a pity. You shook your hand once, a silent ask for your pencil again, and this time he put it on your palm, leaning closer as he braced himself on the desk, trying to be seductive or something “What? Are you so upset you lost to me you don’t even want to talk anymore?” He said in a mocking tone that made you glare at him.

   “Even when I’m right I don’t want to talk to you” You reminded him, throwing your bag’s strap on your shoulder “Let’s go, Paris, Chan said He was going to have lunch with us today” You took her hand and guided her to the door, walking fast so you could leave Hyunjin behind but he, unfortunately, was right on your tail.

   “It’s funny because I recall you bragging every time you’re right and I’m not hearing it now” He said, easily picking up your pass, since his legs were way longer than yours “I guess you don’t want to talk to me because you lost again” Oh god, how could he be so insufferable?! You trailed your eyes around the stairs, looking for Chan on the crowd.

   Thankfully, there he was.

   Chan was a fine guy, as anyone with two functioning eyes could see or at least guess since a lot of girls were staring at him. He was waiting in the corner, his arms crossed on his chest and his bored eyes looking at the floor while he waited for you, his dark hair falling on his eyes, obliging him to run his fingers into his locks, looking charming in the eyes of the girls ogling him. You chuckled as you saw him eyeing them disgusted, clearly bothered by people looking at him doing nothing like he was some kind of idol or something.

   “Hey, Sweety!” You shouted, making him roll his eyes at the nickname that symbolized your friendship. It was the first name you ever called him, a sarcastic remark for the typical rich guy he was, a pretty and spoiled bastard.

   The circumstances you met weren’t the best ones but somehow they worked in your favor.    

   You were working hard on pilling some boxes ─ all of them with a “fragile” sticker that made you very aware about the possibility of losing your job if you dropped one of them─, so it was only natural you were pissed as hell when someone dropped all of them at once. As if he didn’t have anything better to do, Chan stood with his right hand raised to blame, a smirk plastered on his face as he said “Ops! Sorry, Sweety” making his dumb friends laugh at you.

    You couldn’t say you were a typical rich girl especially because you were, in fact, quite poor, so your antics were totally justified by the need you had to keep your job on your hands and change your paradigm.

   It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone with a brain but he had to pay for the losses.

      So you shot him a tight smile when you saw him walking to the exit and said “Don’t forget to pay for those, Sweety”, making him shot a brow at you. You remembered clearly the way he got close to you, declaring with that cocky attitude you hated “Do you know who I am?” as if it would make any difference. You shoved him on the wall, losing your composure, and hissing at him that you didn’t care, and he should pay for it unless he was some kind of hallucination of your head.

   He came back every day after that.

   It has been four years since you two became friends against all the odds; and as a rich kid himself, Chan often paid for your meals, claiming your sorry ass should be thanking him instead of scoffing. You couldn’t help but nudge him with your elbow as soon as you got next to him, making him nudge you back as Paris clasped her hands together, her eyes beaming at your interaction.

   “It’s so beautiful how you guys love each other!” Paris couldn’t see you interacting with another human being without believing you were in love, and although it kinda annoyed you, you tried to overlook it since she didn’t have much more to hold a grudge against. She had been your roommate for the past three years at the dorms, and even though she was a hopeless romantic and annoyed the hell out of you to get together with someone, that was pretty much her only great flaw.

   You remembered perfectly how you thought your life was over once you met her.

   Your first impression of the dorm was awful as you got there and saw the overly pink and cute stuff hanging all around the place as she tried to organize everything in her room. She didn’t have much stuff but all her stuff was vibrant and girly to the point it hurt your eyes.

   You didn’t complain.                                                    

    You put your bag on the floor, looking at her with a grimace as she beamed to meet her new friend. You could say you hated to live with her in the beginning, her carefree self was annoying and her overly friendly antics pissed you off as she always asked you to do things together, watch movies, and eat, and talk and... Well, anything you didn’t want to do with someone you just met. On top of all, she was somewhat lazy and didn’t do much, which ended up with you doing all the chores.

   If you were to be fair, you were the one wearing out yourself, really.

   Everything changed on a particularly exhausting day.

   You had to be a damn good juggler on that week, working yourself until you couldn’t even think about anything clearly. You were like a zombie. A workaholic zombie. You had to go to classes, get your work done, do your assignments, clean up the dorm, study your ass off for the exams, pretend to be a normal human being by socializing with people… Well, basically you were pretty busy on being perfect as you expected you to be. It was obvious that after all your exams were finally done and you got out of work you needed to relax as soon as you got home.

    You fixed yourself something to eat, turned on the TV, crashed on the couch to watch something, and just blacked out right there.

   When you woke up on the next day’s afternoon, you got a cozy feeling above you, some fluffy blanket was thrown around your body, making you warm and peaceful. You shot your body up, sitting on the couch and looking around, alarmed, just to see the TV turned off, the dishes cleaned, the dorm tidy, and your bubbly roommate folding the clothes. You got up from the couch quickly and made a bow, apologizing profusely for being a mess and letting everything out of place on the night before. She scoffed, shrugging it off by waving her hand and said something around “I know you like to do the chores but you wore out yourself this week, you should take a break! You’re not being a burden! Isn’t helping each other out what friends do?” and it made you gasp before smiling.

    You didn’t think of her as a friend back then but it did change that day.

    “It would be even more beautiful if you didn’t try to make us swallow up your need to a nonexistent love between us every time I take you guys out” Chan pointed out, grimacing at her. You couldn’t say Chan and Paris got along even though you tried to make them friendly towards each other but you couldn’t blame Chan for being an ass since you weren’t any better to his friend.

   “So you’re taking us out to lunch? Wonderful!” Hyunjin beamed in sarcasm, knowing too well you would complain. You rolled your eyes and looked at Chan as you guys started to walk, getting on your way to his car so he could take you wherever he was planning to go.

  “It’s called a friendly gathering for a reason, Hyunjin… It means only friends can come” You feigned sympathy, pressing your lips together and looking at him with apologetic eyes. He scoffed at you and nudged Chan on the shoulder, resting his hand there as you walked.

   “I’m his friend too! He’s paying so I can go as a friend unless you want to pay for everyone, then I will have to retreat” He argued, an almost unnoticeable smirk on his lips. You pouted, turning to Chan to complain but he seemed to not pay attention to your childish argument, ignoring you as he looked straight ahead, unbothered.

   “He’s right” He stated before you could whine, showing that he was indeed hearing your conversation. Chan had this habit of pretending not to pay attention to you just to state something that showed he was tuned with everything even though he looked bored, and it always seemed to amaze you. He was a sneak little prick. You whined at him, complaining randomly so he would give up on his idea but he wasn’t buying it, pretty much ignoring you.

  “You’re rich! You don’t even need him to pay for you” You decided to complain to Hyunjin, who just shot you an amused look, scoffing.

   “You work! You don’t need it either” He pointed out, making you sigh. You looked at Paris for support but she was watching the world absent-mindedly, humming something she probably had come up with on the walk, testing over and over again some tune she seemed to like and picking up her phone quickly, recording it and sending it to you so she could save it. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and sighed.

  What great friends you had.

  “Oh! Are you going to come to Han’s game?” She asked suddenly, looking at you excited “He even said if he couldn’t score a point for us this time he would treat us afterward!” You laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking your head in disbelief.

  “Was he laughing when you took the deal?” You asked and she seemed to think hard about it, her fingers gripping her chin as she frowned, trying to recall her conversation with your mutual friend. As soon as she remembered it, she smiled and nodded, making you snort “That’s because he’s a Líbero, Paris, they can’t score any points… He was hitting on you” You explained, her eyes shining in realization.

   “He pranked me!” She uttered, laughing.

   “If you actually paid attention to his explanations you would have guessed it” You pointed out, making Chan snort “Are you coming?” You asked him but Chan shot you a pointed look.

   “Do I look like the kind of guy who would go to a volleyball match?” He asked mockingly, making you shrug.

  “You don’t look like the kind of guy who spends your time with dumbasses but here we are going to eat with one” You retorted, glancing over your shoulders so Hyunjin knew you were talking about him. You finally made it to the car. Chan clicked his key’s button, unlocking his car from afar before you got there, opening the door, and getting inside with a cool motion that made you laugh. He was so playboyish!

   “I wasn’t even doing anything right now” Hyunjin complained as he got himself on the front seat in the same way Chan did, trying to look cool. You snorted at him, getting in the car and sliding to the side so Paris could get in beside you “Is it just to get my attention?” He teased, looking over his shoulder, getting startled at your face so close to his, your arms were resting on Chan’s sit, your chin resting on your arm as you looked ahead, watching as your friend backed up.

   You didn’t hate Hyunjin or something like this, you both just teased each other every time you could. You weren’t really fond of his antics since he was just a playboy that didn’t care about anything apart from him ─ and you weren’t really the kind to feel comfortable around dickheads─, so your friendship just wasn’t meant to happen. You could tolerate him well enough when he wasn’t pissing you off at classes though. You could say you both were academic rivals, extremely smart students that liked to overcome the other by doing witty remarks and good work…

    It wasn’t about being the best student, you didn’t believe in such a thing, it was about being better than him, and he wanted to be better than you.

    You could remember clearly the first time you met.

    He was a cocky guy back then too.

    He sat right next to you even though there were tons of available seats, his smirk suggesting he wasn’t really the friendly type, so he could only be there flirting. You rolled your eyes. He tried to chat with you, talking about him and how he was taking that psychology elective because the other ones seemed too easy for him. You nodded, not really listening to his monologue, and opened your notebook as soon as the Professor came in, presenting himself and giving you a deep question that made you contemplate in silence before you answered it proudly. He scoffed. He scoffed right on your face as he retorted you, and you retorted him back, and then he retorted you again… Your endless arguing conquered a proud clap from your Professor.

    You, on the other hand, conquered a rival.

   Later that week Chan invited you to see his new place, an apartment he rented with a friend even though both of them could easily live by themselves… You could never understand them. You arrived ranting about your classes, bringing the “smartass” issue as soon as you remember, and complaining about that guy that would seat beside you twice a week.

    You regret till this very day the way you said he was a hot and annoying guy because at this very moment he showed up on his sweatpants, using a towel to dry his hair as some drops fell onto his shirtless chest. He smirked at you, teasing you by saying “Hot, hm? So you were just playing hard to get. I like it” as he leaned on the wall, hanging the towel on his shoulder and making fun of you about it till this very day.

   “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Paris was waving her hand right in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention. You shot your eyes to her, startled, smiling apologetically “We’re here” She announced, making you realize Chan was parking, a huge and presumably expensive restaurant standing there in all its glory.

   You would need to work at least to your death to be able to pay for breathing the air inside it.

  “Holy shit, are you rich?” You asked in disbelief, shock getting the better of you as you completely forgot who you were talking about. Chan grimaced at you like you were his dumb but lovingly friend, and you shot him a glare as soon as you composed yourself.

   Let Chan spend his money mindlessly and he would bankrupt his family.

                                                              ////

   You weren’t exactly the sport type but being on the grandstand together with a bunch of people you never talked to, all of you gathering by the same will to defeat the enemy… It just made its way to your mind somehow. You cheered loudly, booing at the opponents' team and their fans while clapping hard at your own team, shouting your lungs out every time Han made a good play, which was pretty often if you were fair.

   If anyone asked you when you made it to college if you would be going to games and cheering for your team, you would laugh on their faces… In fact, that was exactly what you did the first time Han asked you if you were going to his game, amused by his innocence. You two met because Paris was majoring in Music and He decided to take some music classes, which got him an invitation to a party Paris decided to throw on a Friday night.

   It was kind of cute how he was so flustered there, taking your offer for a glass of whatever Paris had mixed to serve as a drink with trembling hands. He was one of the first guys you had the pleasure to analyze as an aspiring psychologist, the clear signals of an awkward guy around the girl he had a crush all over his face: Pink cheeks, stuttering, exaggerated gesticulation, high pitched voice, inability to stay still as he swift his weight side to side, nervous eyes looking around the room…

    The poor boy was on edge, his eyes resting on Paris from time to time as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words.

    Although he was a player in the court, he was far from that on real life and you found it cute.

   You remembered how he winced startled as you patted his shoulder, he looked like a little squirrel stocking his cheeks with alcohol just so he could gulp it down and choke, confused at your knowing look. He ended up being Paris’ partner for most of their projects, obviously trying to get some alone time with her, even though she always called you to listen to their compositions, blowing his plans. All that hanging out and his friendly behavior began a loose friendship, where you went to watch his games with Paris and you two went to watch Paris’s performances, your little alliance being settled so you wouldn’t feel excluded.

   That was how thoughtful he was.

   Paris screamed, hyped by your team score, and you followed her, standing up and cupping your mouth to scream his name, his eyes searching for both of you in the crowd, a bright smile when his eyes connected to yours. You waved at his way, getting a wave as an answer before he had to focus again on his match.

   As soon as the game ended, you both waited as the sea of people made their way out of the grandstand, mostly hyped for some afterward party that certainly would be happening somewhere. You and Paris made your way to the court, waiting for Han to come back from the locker room while chatting about the game. It took him some time to take his bath and get ready, and he came out of the locker room along with some friends that patted his back and complimented his plays, waving him goodbye as soon as they saw us waiting, knowing you wouldn’t go to the party.

   “Y/N told me you can’t score a point as a Libero” Was the first thing Paris said, chuckling, making Han cackle up.

   “You should know it by now! You came to literally every game I played for… Two years? It’s insane! What did you think? That I was a terrible player?” Paris grinned sheepishly and this time you cackled up.

   “It seems like your partner doesn’t believe in your abilities” You pointed out, making him snort “Anyway, I heard you would be paying if you didn’t score anything, so it’s on you today, loser” Han grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders, pulling both of you closer as he guided you.

   “I can offer you the best hot dog in town” He agreed “Maybe even a soda if we all share it” Paris laughed, holding his wrist as she walked along with him, you took the hint to take his arm off your shoulders and let them have their moment, missing the way he pouted when you broke away the contact.

   “I can pay for our drinks” You offered, making Han gasp in mock chock.

   “Rich, aren’t we?” He joked, getting a light push on the shoulder as an answer.

   “I work for a reason, moron” You rolled your eyes “Now let’s split that bill” You smiled as the three of you made your way to your favorite hot-dog stand on campus.