#also!! i have a lot of asks piling up again so sorry if i’m missing yours i’m just busy sweatin in this kirtchen 🥵

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners? 

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news. 

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?” 

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything. 

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures. 

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters. 

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!  

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything. 

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person. 

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat. 

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him. 

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in. 

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose. 

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works. 

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing. 

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display. 

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions. 

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt. 

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table. 

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?” 

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.” 

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?” 

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special. 

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true. 

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite. 

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence. 

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation. 

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk. 

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.” 

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious. 

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes. 

“You don’t think that’s it?” 

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too. 

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine. 

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it. 

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!” 

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival. 

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.” 

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.  

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.” 

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way. 

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is. 

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you. 

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out? 

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?” 

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself. 

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during  your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you. 

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you. 

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort. 

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with. 

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering. 

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day. 

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help. 

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you. 

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint. 

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree. 

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.” 

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks. 

“I love you.” 

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better. 

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy. 

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.” 

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.” 

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked. 

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything. 

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with. 

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.  

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again. 

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you. 

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him. 

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you. 

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air. 

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you. 

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves. 

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears. 

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard. 

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts. 

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.” 

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage. 

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.” 

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls. 

His stomach flips. 

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you. 

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love. 

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on. 

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare. 

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night. 

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does. 

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster. 

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away. 

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart. 

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.  

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

[uhohdad]

there’s so many words in the English language and none of them could even begin to describe how genuinely excited I am for the next chapter😭😭ur writing is so MUAH perfection I’ve re read the story like 7 times since it’s came out sjsjsjxjjsidjx its literally taken over my brain I need this story injected in my veins atp

😭😭😭 ilysm thank you for your lovely kind words <3 <3 <3 💖💕💗🥺💖💕💞

adding the final garnishes and i will be serving to you soon i hope it meets your expectations <3

[intoxicated-chan]

Breeding Kink Miguel O'Hara?👉🏻👈🏻🥺

We’re Both Sinners

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel couldn’t describe it, for the first time, he felt like he lost all sense of control.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ I gotchu! Inspired by “Sinners” by The Ari Abdul. Also, I’m sorry that this seems rushed, I haven’t written a lot of smut before so apologies!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 877

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, breeding kink, sexual content, p in v, pet names (Mi Amor), office sex, bruises, biting, nearly caught? Fingering… Please let me know if I missed anything!

The first time was a complete accident. Miguel had no clue that the condom broke so suddenly, he really shouldn’t be surprised since of how hard he was going. It took the cum leaking out of your cunt that sparked something inside of him.

Of course, he’d never do anything without your permission but every time, the words were at the tip of his tongue. How much he wanted to beg you to let him take off the condom and let him fuck you raw. He was getting harder and harder every time, he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself.

It was so distracting that he couldn’t even contain himself during work. The shame he felt during important meetings when he felt himself get hard by the simple thoughts. The embarrassment he felt when he was forced out of his thoughts and everyone was staring at his flustered face. Never again. He couldn’t let that happen again.

You noticed his distraction from day one. He seemed lost in thought and papers began piling up on his desk. You knew that it wouldn’t be long before Miguel returned to his home office and remained there late into the night.

It was supposed to be a simple visit. Bring him his lunch and talk with him. His office was dark, almost pitch black but it was normal. The only light was the very small lamp on his desk, facing away from him.

You set his lunch down next to his laptop and sat down at the chair in front of his desk.

You waited a few seconds before you called his name, “Miguel~” You waved a hand in front of his face, and it made him jolt, “I brought you lunch.”

“Uh, thank you, mi amor.” He smiles. You could see him avoiding your gaze.

“How was the meeting?” You begin to poke at him.

“It went well. We went over some numbers that an employee messed up. And-”

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“You do know that there was no meeting. Not a single one today.” You sigh, “What’s got you so distracted that it’s affecting your work?”

He glanced at you but immediately turned away when your eyes didn’t move from his. You leaned in, “Please, talk to me.” You whispered.

He felt his cock twitch, “Don’t say that.” He huffs heavily.

“Don’t say what?”

He hissed, “You don’t know how you affect me, do you?” He chuckled, “Teasing me and all.”

He suddenly reached over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, “You said you wanted me to talk, alright then. I’ll show you what’s got my head in a blender.” You can see his blood-red eyes seeping past his brown ones.

“Has anyone seen Mr. O’Hara?” One employee asked another, holding a stack of papers in his arms, “I have the papers he requested.”

“I was told not to bother him.” Another told him.

“Seriously? After I spent hours going through everything he just gave me.” He shakes his head and walks towards his office.

“I wouldn’t-” The employee ignores the other one who sighs, “Do that.” Leaving him to face the consequences.

The employee managed to free one hand and used it to knock on the door, “Mr. O’Hara?” Silence, “Sir?”

“I thought I made it clear that I am to be bothered,” Miguel growls.

“I’m sorry sir but-”

“Come back later!”

The employee huffed but walked away.

“Nearly got us in trouble.” Miguel seethed, feeling you tighten around him as he continues his brutal pace.

“B-But he didn’t hear anything.” His hand slaps over your mouth to silence you.

“But he could’ve and I can’t have that happening.” He whispers in your ear.

Miguel has you bend over his desk. Whatever was originally on his desk was now on the floor. One hand remained on your mouth and the other was gripping your hip.

Your neck is littered with bruises and maybe a bite or two from his fangs. Your hair is a mess from moments ago.

You continue to moan into his hand, “It’s like you want to be caught. Is that what you want?” He removes your hand and grabs a chunk of your hair, tugging, “You want everyone to see how much of a whore you are for their boss. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

Miguel let his control slip, hearing himself groan and you cry… He pounded into you harder than ever. You felt another orgasm come and you completely lost count.

But it wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppy, and soon you heard him loudly groan, cumming inside of you.

He released your hair and his grip on your waist, but he remained over you. His hands support his tired body, “Still distracted?” You pant.

You try getting up but he pushes you back down, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“You still have work.”

“I’m sure they don’t mind having their boss without a few more hours.” You let out a yelp when you felt two of his fingers thrust into you, “Besides, I can’t have this going to waste.”

“But today’s meeting is important!” You retort.

“I’ve got two hours, you’ll be more than filled up by then.”

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.1k] A certain pogue is out of jail which means a certain handful of Kooks should be going in, unless they found some way out of it...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ death, strained friendship, tw! topper, mentions of drowning

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ A lil TR x Sarah bonding until it all goes to shit of course, BUT A LOT OF GOOD THINGS HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER! Sorry for the angst streak :/ also, the scene between TR and JJ is loosely based on this scene between Brooke and Lucas from One Tree Hill.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE SOUND OF CHICKENS CLUCKING AND KIARA PLUCKING THE STRINGS ON HER UKELELE SOUNDED IN THE QUIET OF THE YARD. The four of you — you, JJ, Kiara, and Pope, were in the surf shack at The Chateau. It was early in the morning.

JJ was waxing his board as Kiara played her instrument, you and Pope standing idly by. You were starting to get worried. It’d been almost twelve hours since your confrontation with Shoupe and nothing seems to have changed. You hoped it wasn’t all for nothing. 

But another question was on your tongue…

“...Has anyone seen Sarah?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sunlight. Everyone looked at each other for a brief moment until Kiara broke the silence.

“Last thing she said was that she was going to meet Wheezie.” You hummed at her words.

You and Kie hadn’t spoken nor looked one another in the eye since last night, so it was safe to assume you weren’t the best of friends right now. To be honest, you haven’t been for a while. It was just so weird. There was a time you considered her one of your best friends. But now you couldn’t even face each other without some kind of cat fight ensuing. And you feared these disputes might go from verbal to physical if the pressure reached that point…

“That’s a lot of wax on your board.” Pope spoke, interrupting JJ as he waxed his surfboard. The blonde paused in his movements, side eyeing his friend. “If you put too much, it’s gonna be slippery.”

“...Are you tellin’ me how to wax my board, Pope?” JJ asked, standing up straight.

“I’m just saying, that’s a lot of wax-”

“No no no, you’re tellin’ me how to wax my board. Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just saying that’s a colossal waste of wax.” Pope shrugged sassily, turning away from the blonde.

“Guys,” Kiara butted in, looking between the two. “Really? Can you go two minutes without-” A car horn cut off the tail end of her sentence. The sound making all of you freeze. That was a very distinct horn. A horn that only belonged to a certain vehicle. A certain vehicle that belonged to a certain boy.

None of you said anything else, almost all completely still and waiting to hear it again. When the sound came again, you were the first to turn and run towards it. You rounded the corner of the surf shack just in time to see the Twinkie kicking up dust in front of The Chateau, a dearly missed brunette behind the wheel.

“No fucking way!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards the vehicle, almost tripping over your own feet. “Jombee!”

“Guess who’s out of the clink?!” He smiled, hopping out of the passenger seat. You knocked the wind out of the boy when you threw yourself into him, squeezing him as tightly as you could. He returned the gesture in full, the both of you laughing into each other’s shoulders as the others approached.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Am I dreaming?”

“My boy’s out of the can!” They all joined in on the hug when they got close enough, the five of you piled in on each other. You weren’t sure if what you said worked or it was by the grace of some other miracle that John B was here right now but you didn’t care.

“How’d you do it?” JJ asked as you all pulled back from the hug, forming a circle. “You bust out?”

“No, actually,” John B said matter of factly. “They dropped the charges.” Just then, three of them turned to you with knowing smiles on their faces, John B following their gazes like a lost child. “What?”

“It worked.” Pope told him simply.

“What? What worked?”

“Our little pogue princess here used her magic to get your ass out of jail, Bree.” JJ celebrated, nudging your shoulder playfully as a small smile grew on your face.

“How the hell did you manage that?” John B asked, scoffing gratefully.

“It was nothing…” You waved off. “I just put some pieces together, that’s all.”

“Uh, it was not nothing.” JJ assured. “She went straight up Criminal Minds on Shoupe and his league of badge-wielding sissies. Had a folder and everything-”

“...Wait,” John B cut in, the smile gone from his face. “Where’s Sarah?” The four of you looked to each other, shoulder's square and tense.

“...She went to go meet Wheezie last night.” Kiara told the boy, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “She didn’t come back.”

“SO, SARAH JUST DIPS AND DOESN’T CALL?” John B theoreticized, the only one standing on the boat. The five of you were lounging in the HMS Pogue that’d been stationery in the water behind The Chateau. John B was kind of dampening the mood with a Sarah question every five minutes but you all gave him the benefit of the doubt. 

“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. I mean, I don’t think she would just leave. No offense but, where would she even go?” Kiara threw out, leaning against the inside of the boat next to John B’s legs.

“But, I mean also, she left her bag.” Pope added, you weren’t sure how that helped the conversation.

John B just sighed, planting his hands atop his head. “I really think Ward got to her.” He offered a possible theory. “I mean, he tried to have me killed in jail.”

You turned around so fast, you feared you almost gave yourself whiplash. “He what?”

“Yeah. He sent somebody to the prison who...yoked me up and almost killed me.” 

“Do we know who this dude was?” JJ asked. Judging by his tone, he had an idea in mind and he most likely could go through with it if he truly wanted. Between the inmates who didn’t approve of crimes against children and JJ’s connections in the jail from his dad, he could honestly probably set something up with just a name and a dirty cop.

“No, I have no idea.” John B shook his head. “Dude, I swear to God, one day I’m gonna kill that son of bitch.” He threatened mindlessly, finally taking a seat inside the boat.

“It’s okay.” Kiara tried to comfort.

“No, Kie, it’s not okay.” He snapped. “We gotta find Sarah.”

“No, literally, it’s okay.” Kiara said once more, pointing behind the distressed brunette. “She’s right there.”

The four of you turned to see Sarah…sitting in Topper’s boat. 

As Topper drove.

At the sight of John B, the blonde girl stood up. “...John B?” Her small voice traveled across the water, Topper’s boat getting closer and closer. She shouted John B’s name happily, the boy simply looking away from her. Seeing your girlfriend on her ex’s boat the morning you get out of jail can’t be the best ‘Welcome Home’ surprise.

The four of you cringed, Sarah clearly not registering the picture that was being painted.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” You muttered under your breath, mainly to yourself. “Sometimes, I forget that you are indeed a blonde, teenage girl.”

“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kiara asked, loud enough for the four of you only to hear. Everyone shot small smiles at the blonde girl, confused about who she’d arrived with but glad that she was safe nonetheless. Topper slowed his boat next to The Pogue, allowing Sarah to cross over as he and John B exchanged awkward glances.

“My God, this is weird…” You mumbled, clearly not quietly enough considering Pope nudged your shoulder in warning. “Wh-Am I wrong?”

Sarah threw herself into John B, the boy returning the gesture wholeheartedly but you could tell he was still a little thrown off. “I though I’d never see you again.” Sarah told him, voice muffled into his shoulder before she pulled back to look him in his eyes. “What happened?”

“They dropped all the charges.” John B smiled at his girlfriend.

“What?” Sarah breathed out, a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m a free man.” John B said smugly, leaning one arm on the boat’s windshield. 

“That’s amazing!” Sarah exclaimed, pulling the boy into her one more time. The look of heartbreak on Topper’s face was clear as day. Anyone could tell that he was still in love with her. You might’ve even felt bad if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“I know, it’s great, but listen, Sarah,” John B calmed her down, pushing her back by her arms to look at her. “They’re coming after Rafe.”

“...Good,” She said, surprising you all. Her eyes fleeted to you for a brief moment. “He’s completely unhinged. He jumped me last night.”

“What?” You all said simultaneously, eyes going wide as your attention went to Sarah.

“That’s why I didn’t come back.” 

“Yeah, man. Rafe has lost his mind.” Topper butted in, leaning against the structure of his own boat. “Literally almost drowned his own sister.” You rolled your eyes. Topper has known how unhinged Rafe was all along. He and Kelce always stood by like bodyguards when Rafe would treat you like shit towards the end of your “relationship” with him — he’d grab you by your neck in front of them, pull your hair, call you a bitch, tell you to shut up. But they didn’t care. Or at least they didn’t care enough to say anything about the way Rafe manhandled you or the people around him. But now that Topper had a chance to be Sarah’s knight in shining armor, there was no way he was going to pass it up. “Thankfully I got there just in time.” He said, and you swore you saw the hint of a sly smile on his face.

John B turned away from the blonde on the other boat, tongue prodding against his cheek. “Well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don’t I?” He asked, voice short.

He simply scoffed in response, shrugging nonchalantly. “...’s all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”

“Oookay,” You jumped in. “I think it’s time for you to go, Topper, don’t you agree?-” You tried before John B jumped in.

“That’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend, right?” He directed the question more at Sarah than Topper, the girl tucking her hair behind her ear and laughing nervously.

“What is she, then?” Topper asked, chuckling. 

John B threw a hand out in Sarah’s direction. “Tell him.” He had a sure smile on his face, like he knew Sarah would say what he wanted her to. But it quickly dropped following her words.

“I…I’m with him.” She looked almost unsure of what she was saying. Like she didn't want to say it.

The four of you not involved in this love triangle cringed silently, all looking in different directions as your faces twisted while Topper basically wheezed. “Gotcha. You’re with him. Yeah, okay.” He taunted, looking to the four of you. “You guys clear on that?”

“I think it’s clear you gotta go now.” JJ warned, looking up at the preppy blonde.

“Yeah, I think it’s about that time.” He agreed simply as Sarah called out to him.

“Topper.” She said, leaving John B’s side to get closer to Topper’s boat. “Thank you.” She said gratefully, pulling the boy into a gentle hug.

Topper returned the gesture. “Yeah, of course.” He said softly, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He assured, and none of you missed the glare he shot John B behind Sarah’s back before she pulled away, letting Topper speed off.

YOU WERE STRETCHED OUT ON THE COUCH IN THE CHATEAU, TOSSING A BALL UP INTO THE AIR. John B and Sarah were outside on the hammock, the conversation they were having didn't look too pleasant. Kiara and Pope were talking in the Surf Shack, no telling whether they were cuddling or Kie was pushing him away. You were deep into thought when the door swung open, a chipper blonde waltzing in, humming some random tune under his breath as he went over into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

You looked at his frame in your peripheral before rolling your eyes and sighing, resuming your train of thought. 

“...Y’know, you are really just take the passive part out of being passive-aggressive, y’know that, right?” He spoke across the room, closing the fridge and leaning against it, a beer can in his hand.

“Sorry. I guess liars just bring out the worst in me.” You muttered, voice full of attitude.

“How can I lie about something I have no idea about? Kind of hard to understand why you're so mad at me if you don't say anything.” JJ scoffed, taking small steps towards you. 

At this you scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, sitting up on the couch and leaning your weight one arm, the ball clutched in your other hand. “Are you really just never going to say anything about it?”

“Say anything about what?"

"I mean, at first, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Like maybe it wasn't what it seemed but it's been days-"

You’ve been talking in riddles for days-”

“You kissed Kie.”

“...What?” He recoiled at the statement, standing up straighter. “No, I didn’t-”

“Yes, you did.” You interrupted, swinging your legs off of the couch and leaning your arms on your thighs. “In Charleston. At the gas station.” 

He seemed to ponder on it for a moment before he found it — his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack before he stuttered to find words. “Th- that is not what happened. Is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. Neither of you did because you’re both liars and shitty friends.” You spat, standing from your seat and walking out of the door, hearing his heavy boots follow behind you as the screen door hit the wall. “Maybe this is a sign. Because clearly, you’re both made for each other. Do all liars and backstabbers have a moral code? Birds of a feather, y'know-”

“Can you let me explain?” He breathed out, his footsteps barrelling down the wooden steps and you walked through the dirt and gravel. You didn’t know where you were going or if you were going anywhere at all. It just felt right to walk away.

“You could’ve explained days ago.”

“Look,” He tried, gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks and turn you around. “Just listen to me, please. I understand what it may have looked like and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but I meant everything I said to you. That kiss you saw? Didn’t mean anything.” 

“A kiss always means something.” You rasped, snatching your arm away and looking him in his eyes. Really in his eyes, for probably the first time in days. 

“Okay, maybe you’re right but it didn’t mean anything to me. I didn't initiate it or like it or anything. I can’t speak for Kie but I can speak for me and the kiss. meant. nothing. And you would know that if you had-”

“If I had what?” You cut him off. “If I had said something? As you so sweetly pointed out, I didn't say anything, did I? I’m so sorry if the sight of you and Kie playing tongue hockey while Pope and I are less than ten feet away caught me off guard so badly that I couldn't say anything when it happened.”

“And I get that, I do. But you aren’t listening-” He tried to calm you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders before being harshly shrugged off.

“Stop that.”

“...Look, Kie kissed me. We were talking and then she kissed me and I pushed her away. The kiss didn’t last more than five seconds and I didn’t kiss her back. I told her I didn’t like her that way, I don't like her that way, and that I wouldn’t do that to Pope or you, ever. I even told her about what me and you have going on. I promise you.” He reassured. “And to be completely honest with you, would it even matter if I did? I mean, we aren’t together. You said you needed time to figure out your feelings. You said that you didn’t want me to wait on you to figure out your feelings. You said that.”

At his comment, you stood in shock. A silent ‘wow’ leaving your lips as you looked around at nothing. “And you know what, JJ? I loved you for that. You were so patient and understand in that moment that I fell in love with you in a such a way that I couldn't just call you my friend anymore. And I can’t believe that you use what I said now and twist it into something else. You know that’s not what happened. I told you I didn’t want you to wait on me to figure out my feelings if that’s not what you want, that part is true. But what about when you told me that you would and that it was your choice? That you’d be there when I was ready?” You reprimanded, scolded. “And when I told you that if you did kiss someone else or hook up with someone else, I just wanted you to tell me and not let me find out from someone else. And you told me that there would be nothing to tell and nothing to find out because you were “all mine”. Or did all of that just coincidentally slip your mind?”

“It didn’t. I just…” JJ sighed, running a hand down his face. “I need you to trust me and believe me when I tell you that my heart is with you. It always has been and it always will be.” He told, eyes boring into yours, pleading. “...But a part of me feels like when all of your grief is gone and you feel better about everything. About your mom, your dad, everything. You won’t...need me anymore and you’ll try to push me away because maybe then you’ll realize that you don’t really feel that way about me. You just thought you did because…because I was there for you when you needed me to be.”

“Oh.” You scoffed, eyebrows raising. “You kiss someone else, one of our friends, and I’m the one who’s feelings are being doubted?”

JJ just sighed, stepping impossibly closer to you. One of his hands reached out to caress your face, this time you let him. “...I love you.” He said softly. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

“How about how you show it?” You whined, eyes getting teary and voice wavering. You gently grasped his hand, dragging it away from where it was cradling your face. “I am not using you to make myself feel better, JJ. What I feel for you is not a product of my grief or fucked up life or because you were there for me at just the right time. And maybe I needed the time to realize that before but I know it, now. I am sure that I love you but now I need you to be sure that you love me back. Okay, so why wouldn’t you just tell me about the kiss? If it didn’t mean anything, why didn’t you say anything?” You explained, two single tears running down your face.

Suddenly, JJ’s phone started to go off, notification after notification. You let go of his hand, using your own to wipe your tears, as he fished for his phone in his pocket.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, walking in the direction of the Surf Shack.

“What?” You asked, voice still off from crying and you followed behind him.

He rounded the corner to find Kie and Pope pulling apart from a hug, you could only wonder what they were talking about. You didn’t miss the way both of their eyes went between you and JJ. Between JJ’s red face and your tear stains, they probably had questions. You wouldn’t be surprised if they heard the heated conversation.

“Pope.” JJ started. “Just got a call from Guffy. Somethin’ happened to your pops.”

“LET ME KNOW IF I’M HURTING YOU, OKAY?” Sarah cooed, planting a bandage on Heyward’s hairline. By the time the six of you arrived, the older man was hunched over, beaten and bloodied. Not too badly but bad enough for someone like Heyward. 

“You’re doin’ just fine.” Heyward told Sarah, wincing as she fully secured the bandage and walked away. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Pop,” Pope started, walking closer to his father. “What happened?”

“Oh, I should’ve known better.” Heyward started, lightly touching the bandage on his head. “He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest,” You cringed at the thought. “...and he asked me about that…about that key. From that drawing you showed me. And in case you’re wondering,” The older man gaining his sass back as he spoke. “I ain’t tell him nothin’.” He told the group of you, a hand on his hip with his lips pursed before his eyes went back to his son. “Now did you track it down?”

Pope fished around in his back pocket, pulling out a slim, gold key with a red string attached. The five you surrounding the father and son had sly smirks on your faces.

“I found it in Mee-maw’s old apartment above the pharmacy, just like you said.”

“...Shit, boy, you should’ve gave this to me. I wouldn’t have had to take a beatin’.” He spoke, shocked by the sight of the key as he twirled it between his fingers. “What’s the big deal? It ain’t worth anythin'. Why they want it so bad?”

“I don’t know.” Pope shrugged along with the rest of you. “First, I get this letter telling me that I need to go to Charleston. And then I meet this rich lady who wants me to give her a key that I didn’t even know was in my family.” Pope explained enthusiastically. 

“Well, don’t y’all just sit here whinin’ about it.” Heyward scolded the group of you sporting long faces. “Figure it out.”

Pope’s face twisted at his father’s words as he shook his head. “No.” He said firmly. “I’m just gonna give the key to that lady. It’s not worth-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Heyward interrupted. “Did I raise you to back down from a fight?” 

Pope shook his head. “...No, sir.”

“Well, all right.” Heyward nodded, admiration is his eyes. “Now, I didn’t think ‘bout it before. I admit that. But now…” He trailed off, eyes on the key in his hand before pointing to the injury on his head. “Now? I’m interested.” He smiled smugly. “Did they say why they wanted it?”

Pope drew his lips into a thin line. “Somethin’ about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”

“You know who you should talk to?” Heyward suggested, leaning forward. “Your great-grandmother.”

JOHN B STOPPED THE VAN IN FRONT OF SHADY ACRES NURSING HOME. It was the next day, the group of you agreeing to put it off until then considering it was a little drive away. Pope was the first out of the van, Kiara following as JJ got out of the passenger seat.

“Hey, um…” Pope started, looking up at the building. “I think I’m actually gonna do this one by myself.” It seemed like a general statement but his eyes kept zoning in on key. 

“...You sure?” Kie asked, half-way out of the van doors.

“Yeah.” Pope shrugged. “I can handle it, I don’t really need you, so…” The clear attitude in his voice had you and Sarah, who were still seated, cringing in the van, looking anywhere but at the two. You figured whatever they talked about in the shed wasn't as good as it seemed. Maybe that wasn't a happy hug...

“Oh, we’re just all one big happy family today, aren’t we?” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood. Now that he mentioned it, it did seem like all the “couples” in the group were off. Even John B and Sarah hadn’t talked since yesterday afternoon or all this morning.

Pope simply looked at the blonde before walking off, a gloomy expression on his face. John B restarted the van, ready to drive off while Pope did his task.

“OF COURSE I THANKED TOPPER.” Sarah whispered as you, her, and Kie walked back towards the van slowly. John B had made a pit-stop at a burger place where you, Sarah, and Kie went to get milkshakes. John B and JJ were inside the vehicle, it looked like they were having a hushed conversation of their own. “He saved my life, and I’d put him through so much already.” She added, sipping on her milkshake as you did the same, Kie nodding. “And you’d think that that is the crime of the century.”

“Tell me about it.” Kiara said. “All of this crazy shit’s happening, and Pope is giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”

You gulped down the rest of you shake at her words. “I think it’s more so due to the fact that you led him on as if you were in love with him, but hey,” You butted in bluntly, sending a tight-lipped smile Kiara’s way. “What do I know?”

“People can’t control their feelings. You can’t force yourself to…love someone who you just don’t.”

“No,” You dragged out. “But people can control how they interact with those people. Kissing someone, sleeping with someone? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m not in love with you’.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Kie stopped walking, turning to you. “You don’t speak to me for days and then when you do it’s the same passive-aggressive bullshit? I mean, seriously, what’s your deal?”

You stopped in your own tracks from where you had taken a few steps forward, turning to face the girl while still sipping your milkshake. “Does Pope know?”

Kie rolled her eyes and threw her hands out, Sarah watching intently. “Does Pope know what?”

“That you kissed JJ.” You said bluntly, eyes staring into hers.

"Wh-*cough*-What?!" Sarah's eyes went wide as she choked on her milkshake.

“‘Cause if he doesn’t and he’s already pushing you away like this? I can’t imagine how much he’ll hate you when he finds out.” You shrugged.

“...If.” Kiara corrected, shifting her. “If he finds out.”

You pursed your lips, looking up at the sky as you pretended to think while you shook your head. “When.” You corrected her correction before turning on your heel and walking towards the van. 

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE RELATED TO DENMARK TANNY.” John B exclaimed. You’d all returned to The Marina just as it had started to drizzle where Pope explained how his grandmother told him all about how Denmark Tanny and his wife, Cecilia, were Pope’s ancestors. “Are we in the presence of a royal?” John B teased, the six of you camped up under a roof of one of the shops.

“A king? We shall crown him.” JJ joked alongside JB, planting an imaginary crown on Pope’s head. “All hail the Lord of Tannyhill. We are not worthy!” He continued, the rest of you joining in on the chant before Pope stopped you all with a chuckle.

“Everybody relax. Can we relax, please?” He requested, the laughter fading lightly before his face faded into something more serious. “...I just keep thinking about the letter. The one Limbrey sent? It had the wheat symbol on it.” He pointed out. “That must mean it had something to do with the Royal Merchant.”

“Yeah. Somethin’ seems fishy…” JJ threw in.

“But if we find that cross, we can split it like we were gonna split the gold.” Pope continued, gleefully.

“And live happily ever after?” An uninvited voice rang out, the group of you turning to find none other than Carla Limbrey and her live-in bodyguard approaching. You all straightened, the expression on your faces going hard.

“You assaulted my father.” Pope was the first to speak, his lips curled in anger as he took steps towards the woman only to be pushed back by her accomplice. 

“Oh, I didn’t assault anybody.”

“He can identify the psycho from a mile away.” Kie assured, Carla turning to her.

“Why would my employee…” She trailed off, turning back to Pope. “Assault your father? That's absurd.” She laughed, like the whole ordeal was humorous. “Listen,” She started, limping towards Pope. “We can keep on negotiating but the fact is, I want the key.” She explained, her employee pushing Pope up against a support beam causing you all to jump up.

“Hey!” JJ shouted, being the closest to Pope.

“And I won’t stop until I have it. I don’t have a choice, which means you don’t either.” She spoke solely to Pope. She stared at him intensely, her gaze never wavering.

“It’s Limbrey, right?” You piped up, her eyes turning to you as you leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, swinging the gold key around your finger. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“...Yes, it is.” She said, her voice straining as she walked towards you slowly. 

“Looking at the tide right, I’d say it’s about…” You taunted, dangling the object dangerously over the water as you peaked at the waves then back at her. “Twenty feet deep out there? So, if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim to none.” You explained, sitting up straighter and extending your arm completely over the rail. “Wanna give it a shot?” You taunted, letting the key slip from your fingers.

“No! Hey!” Limbrey lunged forward, nearly tripping over her feet. She let out a sigh of relief when you swiftly caught key in your hand again before it even had the chance to really fall. “...Please don’t do that.” She pleaded. 

You could feel your eyes narrow as you relaxed against the rail again, the key fisted in your palm as you threw one arm out in the direction of her employee. “Get him to back the hell up.”

“...Back up.” She ordered, turning towards the man as he walked away from Pope, looking you up and down. Carla was quick to stand back in front of Pope once more, talking to him. “As I have told you from the beginning, I am willing to be reasonable.”

Pope eyes drifted towards you, probably catching on to the fact that the key you were torturing Limbrey with was fake, considering you were sure he had the real one on him. You nodded towards the boy, winking at him.

“...Okay.” He said, eyes back on Carla.

“Okay?” She seemed surprised at his cooperation.

“I’ll give you the key.” He told her, standing up straighter. “But I want the tape.”

“Of course-” Limbrey was quick to agree, but you felt like her employee was getting suspicious with the way he was eyeing you.

“Hey, Pope,” You stepped in, walking towards your friend. “You don’t have to do this, okay?” You told him, but your head was nodding slightly so he would catch your drift. Giving the key up to easily would only seem suspicious now. There had to be some kind of resistance on his end.

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, Pope, this is your family.”

“It’s fine. It’s okay…” Pope assured, putting his hand out for you to give him the key. “This is about your dads.” He added, eyes fleeting between you and John B. “That’s way more important.”

“Oh, you’re a good friend.” Limbrey sighed as you planted the key in Pope’s palm. 

“The tape?” Pope turned back to her, eyes never leaving hers. 

“Yes, give him the tape.” She ordered the man she brought with her, watching as he pulled a red tape recorder from inside of his jacket, handing it slowly to Pope. He didn’t hand Limbrey the key until the player was in his hand. “You know…” She started again, leaning into him. “I wish that you’d come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.” She said before turning and walking off, her employee following behind but not before turning around with a smug smile on his face.

“It was nice seein’ ya, Pope.”

“Walk away before I beat your ass with her cane.” You told him bluntly, him offering the six of you one last grin before strutting off. You watched the pair leave, standing next to John B as a smile grew on your face. “How long do you think we have until she realizes she has your father’s old key?”

“Ten minutes.” He replied. 

Just then, Pope turned around with both of his arms out, a small relieved smile on his face. “Whose idea was the fake key?”

You and John B turned your attention to JJ who was trying to conceal the smile on his face. “Hmm, I don’t know. Should we tell him?” John B teased, throwing an arm around JJ’s shoulders.

“Did hell freeze over?” Pope asked, astounded.

“I’m impressed.” Kiara said. “Maybe you are good for something.”

“Even a blind pig can find an acorn at times.” JJ joked as Pope and JB tickled him, poking his ribs and ruffling his hair. 

“We gotta take this tape to Shoupe.” John B smiled, juggling the object in his hand as the released the blonde.

“Yes sir.” JJ jumped up. “Ward Cameron we’re comin’ for you, big boy!”

You didn’t miss the look of despondence on Sarah’s face. It was the visual epitome of being stuck between a rock and hard place. You knew what it was like to know someone’s a bad person but still feel obligated to love them. You seemed so easily detached from your mother that you never stopped to consider that maybe Sarah was having a hard time doing the same with her father.

“WHEN I GOT DOWN TO THE TARMAC, I SAW THE SHERIFF LYING DEAD ON THE GROUND.” Gavin’s voice came from the tape recorder planted on Shoupe’s desk. John B had requested that you go in with him to give the evidence to Shoupe while the others waited, considering you had cleared his name in the first place, he figured your help could do no harm. “And then Ward asked me to fly the gold to Nassau and dispose of the gun. He’s protecting his son.” The former pilot explained, Shoupe’s eyes drifting upwards to stare at you and John B. “It was Rafe Cameron who killed Sheriff Peterkin. I gotta be honest with you…I’m terrified. If anything happens to me, I’m telling you, it was Ward Cameron.”

John B looked up at Shoupe and the FBI Agent standing behind him, a deadpan look on his face. “I told you Shoupe…” He started, shaking his head slightly. “Ward killed both of our fathers and Gavin, and now you know Rafe killed Peterkin.”

Shoupe just licked his lips and nodded, taking a quick glance at the agent behind him. “...I know, kid. I know.”

Your brows furrowed at this. During your last conversation with Shoupe, right after you’d told him to drop the charges and right before you left his office, he left you with a few last words...

“I don’t know if I believe all of this, kid. And I can’t promise that this enough to get your friend out and put Ward behind bars. Maybe one or the other…but not both.”

Leaning forward in your seat, you gained Shoupe’s attention as his eyes turned to you. “What does that mean? ‘Cause last time I was here you said that the outcome we have right now was nearly impossible.”

The man just sighed, slowly rising from his chair as it rolled against the floor. He put both of his hands on his belt and cleared his throat. “We’ve issued arrest warrants for both Ward and Rafe…as well as your mother and any department employees involved. Rafe is currently in custody, the other warrants are being carried out as we speak. I can’t give ya anymore than that.”

“LLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WARD CAMERON, KING OF THE KOOKS, IS GOING TO JAIL!” JJ’s voice boomed from the inside of The Chateau. The guys were inside celebrating Ward’s takedown as you rounded the corner of the porch, finding a solemn Sarah sitting criss-cross on the patio furniture with Kiara right across from her, giggling at the guys antics.

You sat the opposite side of the blonde girl just Kiara looked to her, the brown-haired girl’s face falling at Sarah’s expression.

“...Do you regret it?”

Sarah was quick to reply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No.” She stated firmly, biting the inside of her cheek. “He deserves all of it, and I know that. It’s just…” She cut herself off with a teary sigh, her voice returning with a quiver to it as her eyes filled with tears. “He’s still my dad. I can’t just pretend like he’s not.”

“No, I get it.” Kiara tried to comfort, scooting closer and planting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I understand-”

“But you don’t, Kie.” Sarah blurted, a tear falling from her eye as her nose and cheeks took on a shade of red. “I know you’re trying to help but you just don’t get it...” She said, rising from her seat and swiftly walking off into the direction of the backyard and out into the rain. 

You didn’t know if it was weird of you to go after her, considering Sarah and Kie were closer but you figured after Kiara sat there with no intention of getting up that it was okay to do so. Getting up from your seat and walking off to follow Sarah, you stepped out into the drizzling rain, going towards her figure that was stood at the edge of the tall grass on the shore of The Marsh, her arms hugging herself as she looked out at the water.

As you got closer and stood next to her, you could hear small sniffles leaving her nose. Maybe she didn’t regret helping turn her dad in but it was clear as day to anyone that she was upset.

“I know I’m probably not the person you want to talk to…” You spoke up after a few moments of silence, Sarah looking at you briefly. “But I think I’m the only person who can relate to how you’re feeling, right now.”

“You don’t have to come out here in the rain to make me feel better.” She sighed, fully turning to you now, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. “Especially after everything I’ve put you through.”

“Sarah, I already told you that I forgive you-”

“But why?” She cried, swinging her arms out to her sides. “It would be one thing if I didn’t believe you but I made your life a living hell and I didn’t even like my brother then. How can you just forgive me so…so easily?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault.” You told her, moving your own pieces of damp hair out of your vision. “I know that right now you probably think you’re no better than them, your dad and brother. But you are not responsible for the bad things that they did to other people. Yes, you made my life hell and maybe I’ll always hold that small grudge against you. But you didn’t kill Peterkin, and you didn’t kill my dad, or Big John, or Gavin.” You explained. “And unlike them, Sarah, you owned up to your mistakes. You apologized to me and Kiara and you’ve become a better person for it.”

“..But why do I feel bad for still loving him?” She whined, tears falling faster now. “I tore myself away from Rafe after he tried to drown me but my dad…he’s still my dad. And I know he’s done bad things, really bad things, and I will never forgive him but for some reason, going against him puts this pit in my stomach that I can’t get rid of because ...he’s my dad.”

“But that’s the thing, Sarah,” You began, stepping closer to her. “He’s not your dad anymore.” You told her, putting a hand on her upper arm gently. “The way I think of it? He’s just a shell of the man you used to know. Like with my mom — I know it seems like I’m okay and that I hate her and that’s that, right? But that’s not true. I miss my mom. So much. But not the mom that being hunted down by the police right now.” You explained, your own voice wavering. “I miss the mom that would listen to my shitty guitar playing after my dad taught me chords and convinced me I was the greatest in the world. I miss the mom that would make cookies with me in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. The mom I miss would never do the things that the woman I know now has done. Any of it. And I know it’s a hard thing, to separate who you grew up with and who you’ve come to know but Ward isn’t the father you knew, Sarah. He’s the monster you know now.”

Sarah just sniffled and nodded, processing your words as she wiped the tears and rainwater from her face.

“...And as for that grudge?” You started, a small smile on your face. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to let it go if you helped me out with something. Just a small little side quest…” You shrugged cutely as her brows pinched together. “Got any clue where Rafe would hide a stolen dog at Tannyhill?”

You managed to get a small chuckle out of the girl before her phone started to ring, Sarah fishing the device out of her back pocket — Topper’s contact card bright on display as her eyes darted to yours.

“We might have to postpone that heist…” She said, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Topper’s voice came through, his voice faint and distorted through the phone. “Sorry to be the, uh, bearer of bad news here but…they’re coming for your dad.” He told her, Sarah letting out a deep breath. “My grandpa just signed the warrant.” He explained. You forgot his grandfather was a judge. “So, if you have anything you want to say to him, I would do it now. Just wanted you know.”

“Thanks.” Sarah replied, voice small and weak as she stared at her sneakers. She removed the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing deeply.

You shot her a tight-lipped smile, a look of pity. “I’ll get everyone and we’ll go with you.”

THE TWINKIE WAS GOING AS FAST IT COULD DOWN THE NARROW STREET WHEN THREE COP CARS SPED BY,  headed in the direction of Tannyhill.

“Shit…” Kie breathed, eyes trailing the speeding vehicle as she looked out of the window.

“Oh my God,” Sarh sighed, eyes wide as the severity of the situation set in. “Can we please hurry? I need to be there for Wheezie.”

“You think I wanna miss this?” John B said bluntly. Ouch. The statement and the way he said it even hurt you, so you weren’t surprised by the mean side-eye that Sarah gave him from the passenger seat. 

The four of you in the back exchanged glances. There was a lot going on and it was difficult to know what each of your worried looks were for — Sarah, John B, or Sarah and John B’s relationship.

It wasn’t long before the van pulled up right behind one of the parked cop cars outside of Tannyhill, right outside the concrete wall. You all nearly tripped over one another scrambling to exit the van before it even came to a full stop — the sound of police chatter, footsteps, and sirens in the distance. 

You all stood on your tiptoes, peering over the wall.

“Holy shit.”

“I can’t see, bro.”

None of you had a good view but you could see a small swarm of officers running towards the dock where Ward kept his boats while Rose stood helplessly by the door. 

“Screw it.” John B said out of nowhere. “I’m going over.” He warned before hurling himself over the wall, the five of you watching as he landed on the other side. You looked at each other before following his lead, landing in the grass.

You all jogged through the freshly cut grass, approaching the doors where Rose stood just in time to see Wheezie rushing out as Rose tried to stop her.

“What’s going on?” The young girl asked, eyes on the huddle of officers by the water. “Why are the police here?”

“Wheezie…” Sarah called her sister’s name in relief, walking faster in order to reach the girl and pull her into a hug.

“Why are the police here again?” Wheezie asked, her voice soft and curious. 

“Go inside,” Sarah told her, caressing the back of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Don’t come out.” Wheezie looked at her older sister with confusion and concern before nodding and turning to go back inside, a teary-eyed Rose guiding the girl back inside.

You couldn’t help but subconsciously notice that there was no sign of Marley — no paw prints, no food bowls, no leash, nothing. Not that he’d take that much care of her anyway. But it didn't look like a dog was being kept here. You felt bad for thinking about that at a time like this but if Rafe wasn’t holding her at Tannyhill, you could only think of one other place he’d take her, and if you were right then getting her back just became a whole lot more dangerous…

“Sarah,” Rose called before shutting the patio door, her voice scratchy. “Your father, he…he’s out on The Druther’s.” She told her, Sarah wasting no time in jogging in that direction before Rose could finish. “But I don’t think you should- Sarah!”

She tried to call her back but it was no use and the rest of you could do nothing more but follow Sarah out to the docks. Through the grass and over the wood, about six or so officers formed a line, effectively blocking the entrance as the group of you approached the scene.

“Dad!” Sarah cried, seeing her father’s figure on the third story of The Druther’s.

The officer’s attention turned to you all, holding their hands out to stop you all from going any further when Shoupe’s voice rang.

“That’s Sarah Cameron! Let her through!” He ordered, motioning you all through with one hand as the officers stepped to the side.

“What are you doing here, Sarah?!” Ward called tearfully from the top of his boat. He looked genuinely terrified. 

“Dad, what’re you doing?!” She called from the docks as you all walked behind her, forming a sort of line on the wooden surface, officers on each side.

“Vic, you gotta get her out of here!” Ward’s attention went to Shoupe, pleading with the man. “She can’t be here right now!” He was straining his voice so much, you would think he was about to die, not be arrested.

“Just come on in, and you can talk to her!” Shoupe tried to reason, throwing his arms out in Sarah’s direction, trying to find anyway for Ward to turn himself in.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry, baby,” He continued to cry, going inside of the cockpit for a moment. It looked like he was flipping switches which made the officers weary. “I can’t!” Suddenly, the anchor started to reel itself out of the water.

If they didn’t get any units in the water by now or anytime soon, you feared Ward would get away. Once again.

“What’re you doing?!” Sarah called, stepping closer to the edge of the dock. “Dad, no, no, no!”

“Ward!” Shoupe stepped in, applying more pressure. “This ain’t gonna end the way you want it to!” Your prayers were answered and Shoupe’s warning was proven when four police water units came cruising towards The Druther’s, lights and sirens on display. “You don’t need her seeing this!”

Sarah’s jaw couldn’t close as she eyed each of the approaching boats, one after the other. Anyone within five feet of the girl could hear her labored, stuttering breaths. Just then, Ward started to climb down to the second level of the boat, causing Sarah to cry out once more.

“Dad, don’t leave!” Her voice cracked, at a pitch so high you’d question if it was even her voice. “Where are you going?!”

“I love you!” Ward assured, landing on his feet on the second level deck.

“Hey! Damn it, Ward!” Shoupe cursed. “Turn it around and get back in here!”

“Dad! No!” Sarah cried hysterically, watching as Ward closed himself off in the boat where no one could see him. The four units in the water were closing in on him —where did he plan to go? “Please don’t leave!” Sarah croaked one last time when suddenly the bottom of The Druther’s blew, sending a wave of silence over everyone.

Even the boats in the water slowed, not wanting to get to close to the wreckage as it blew again, each blast getting higher and higher, hitting each story of The Druther’s. Each boom sent each of you back a step, hearing Sarah’s breath hitch was what broke your heart.

You all threw your arms up, shielding yourselves from the debris and shrapnel that was now flying in the air as easily as dust. A thick cloud of dark grey filled the air, metal and other materials floating down into the water as everyone just stared.

It was silent until Sarah started to hyperventilate, a hand on her chest as you watched as her knees began to give out. “No, no.” She struggled to get out, a hand hovering over her throat as she cried. “Dad…dad!” You know someone should’ve helped her or comforted her but it was like none of you could. You were frozen in place, watching the boat go up in flames.

You couldn’t believe this. No, really. You couldn’t. Despite the fire and the smoke and the boat now in pieces, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

Ward was dead?

You were supposed to believe that Ward was dead? 

How could any kind of universe allow him the easy way out? How was that fair?

You didn’t even really notice Topper, who’d appeared out of nowhere but seemingly just on time, catch Sarah just as she fell. You saw it out of you peripheral, but your sights never left that burning boat.

Ward…was dead.

Ward Cameron was dead.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; @esquivelbianca@fallingwallsh@calmoistorm@i-love-ptv@liability28@rivaiken @sophiahristov@rafxcameronss@ldrvinyl@purplerose291 @boo22sstuff @heartsforandrewgarfield@coolgirl458@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@jujubeaz@ellobruv-blog @yourmumstoy @belle101200@libertyybellls@c4ttheart@ihe4rttwd@redhead1180@ditzyzombiesblog@spideysimpossiblegirl@sex-me-stiles@honeyiti@rafedrewandjjs@highformaybank@broidfk609 @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankskiss @starrsea @avengersgirllorianna @supercxnt

©loveharlow.

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP: “No One Majored In Chemistry"

“...So yes, I’m going to figure out which one of you it was.” Billy growled into his phone as he dodged and weaved through the crowd of other excited freshmen.

Bruce sighed on the other end. “Are you really saying it’s impossible that you could have gotten into a good school without one of us meddling?”

“Gee, I dunno, acceptance and a full-ride scholarship to an ivy league school I didn’t apply to, with no active requirements to keep it up? Because of my AV experience? Room and board included? UPenn has a 6.5% acceptance rate, and again, I didn’t even apply, Bruce!”

A pause. “...It was Diana. Drop out, and she might actually cry.” Then he hung up, because of course he did. Billy groaned.

Fine. It was fine. Maybe superhero nepotism had gotten him into college, maybe that meant some other, more worthy kid didn’t get a shot. He had to balance that guilt with gratitude: Because someone clearly believed in him, and that meant a lot. Ugh, he couldn’t even yell at Diana about it, you can’t just yell at Diana! Why couldn’t it have been Ollie? Half of his job was giving people someone to yell at!

He was so frustrated that he pushed the door to his dorm open way harder than he intended, and it slammed against the wall, startling the boy who had apparently gotten there first. He spun on his heels away from the window where he’d been setting up some figurines and pointed a pair of accusatory finger-guns at Billy. He looked like a Scandinavian dude, with all of the trappings: Tall, broad shoulders, long shiny blond hair, blue eyes as sharp as Tim’s but somehow much less eerie to look at, probably because he wasn’t being possessed by the ghost of a Victorian street urchin.

“Oh! Oh, hey.” He pushed some hair out of his face and flashed Billy a bright smile.

“I recommend this one, Batson.” 

Billy paused. He didn’t recognize that voice, who was--Oh no. Oh no, Achilles never said anything unless he was asked a direct question, and even then--OH NO.

The guy cleared his throat. “Um…You’re Billy, right?”

Crap, I missed a dialogue cue! “Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry, weird…weird morning.” Billy quickly propped his suitcase against his bed and walked over to offer the guy a handshake, which was smoothly accepted. Billy wasn’t a little guy, 5”7 was perfectly average, but this guy--wait, what was his name?

“Yeah, totally, it’s been a weird morning. It’s nice to meet you, though! I’m Garth.”

Ah, okay. “Garth” had at least five inches on him, and that, combined with the length of the fingers and width of the palm that consumed his hand served to make average old Billy feel kind of small.

“Me…me too. Um. I mean, it’s nice to also meet you, not that I’m Garth. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want to steal your identity yet.”

Garth let out a surprised giggle and raised an eyebrow. “...Well, I hope to prove that my credit score is worthy of being ravished.”

His smile made Billy’s eyes sting a little bit, but on a level he wondered if that was a product of every one of the degenerates in his mind (and maybe Solomon) trying to get a look at once.

“Aha, I guess we’ll see!”

Garth shook his head a little and smirked. Then his eyes flicked over to Billy’s bed. “Wait, is that your only bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I…don’t like having a ton of clothes.” It was kind of true.

Garth nodded. “Hmm. Fair enough. I’m a little bit of a…well…” He gestured to the pile of clothes on his bed. “...I like shirts.”

"Nothing wrong with that, you seem to be good at…wearing shirts.” What?

“What?”

“I dunno man, I haven’t had any coffee, the prompt was: 'Friendly compliment that is also not weird.'”

Garth laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, and it was at that moment that Billy realized that they’d just been standing in handshake range the entire time. He backed up in the direction of his bed a bit, and Garth took that as a cue to go back to unpacking while he talked. 

“I’m from Gotham, my standard for weird is a little warped.”

Billy sat on the edge of his bed and quietly lamented that his feet didn’t reach all the way to the floor. “Gotham is a wild place, yeah. Probably cursed.” Literally cursed, actually.

“Yeah, yeah there’s…yeah. But imma be real, I think Fawcett is much scarier.”

How does he know I’m from Fawcett?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that place is a Buzzfeed unsolved video waiting to happen, I mean there’s a reason the Big Red Goober hangs out there so often, right? Magic is spooky, man.”

Billy bit his cheek. “Ah, well, you may have a point, there have been a couple weird things over the years.”

Garth let the silence ride for a beat as he put some sweaters in his closet. “Hey so, big fan of your podcast, by the way.”

Billy chuckled nervously. “How…how do you know about that?”

“How many Billy Batsons can there be?”

“Honestly? A WEIRD number.”

Garth snorted and stretched slightly to get to the top shelf. Achilles noted that his shoulder-to-chest ratio was good for archery (and other things), and Billy tried his best to ignore him. “Either way, I figured you’d be a little more braggy about getting to interview superheroes, that’s kind of good for like, street cred and shit. But I guess being a bit of a shy little guy makes sense, all things considered.”

Billy was about to defend himself against the “little guy” accusations, but Garth turned around and made eye contact again, which derailed him long enough that he lost the window, and Garth continued on. 

“So, what’re you majoring in?”

“Mixed media, with a minor in journalism.” For some reason, Billy felt a little self-conscious whenever he told someone, like it was somehow unrealistic, when in reality it had been made abundantly clear to him that the concept of ‘unrealistic’ did not apply to a life like his.

Garth seemed to think it was cool, even. “Oh that’s great! Makes sense, you seem like the type to be good at all of that stuff.”

Billy fought to keep a blush down. “Ah, gee. Um, wh-what about you?”

“Pre-med and Screenwriting. Dual major.” 

Billy blinked a couple times. “Wow that--”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I kinda…I kinda applied to both departments and didn’t expect to get into either, so when I got into both I kind of panicked and accepted. So. You know. It’s…I’ll be fine, I’m used to juggling plates.” He brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind an ear, and for the first time in the fifteen minutes that Billy had known him, Garth looked a little nervous. Only for a moment though, then it was all smiles again. “Hey, that reminds me actually…”

Billy’s eyes widened as he watched the blond cross their room to sit right next to him on his bed. “Uh, wh--”

“How are we going to do this?”

“Do…what?”

“Oh, I do like it when they’re forward.” Zeus, please!

Garth leaned back on his hands.“I have two stressful majors, my mom has been in AA since before I was born, so no drinking, and I like people. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Well, theater, medicine, Gotham, parental stress: You’re one rejection letter from turning into a Phantom of the Opera themed, organ-harvesting villain of the week?” Why did I say that!?

He could hear the smug satisfaction in Hermes' voice. “Just a little inspiration, for free. You’re welcome.” AHHHHHHH--

Garth laughed really hard at that one, and any cool vibe he was trying to foster was shattered by the way his cheeks went pink and he snorted. Billy could suddenly see the dork behind the symmetrical features and shiny hair.

“Fuck you! This just means you’re gonna be my first victim, Batson. That kidney?” Billy giggled and leaned away as Garth jabbed a finger right over where his kidney actually was. “Is mine.”

“This is good,” Achilles said, “Generally this is where I’d suggest pulling your shirt up, and enticing him with your wares, but that may be unwise as you’ve neglected your mortal body’s physical integrity, you disappointing, noodly-armed twink--”

“Hey!”

Garth raised an eyebrow and Billy realized with horror that he’d let that one escape.

“Uh--”

“Sorry, just…remembered…a thing--where were you going with that before you claimed my kidney?”

“Oh! Yeah right. So I’m gonna like…be busy, you know? ‘Everybody stares at me, boys, girls, I can't help it, baby--’”

“You did NOT just quote Rent--”

“It’s a good musical! What I’m asking is if you want to like, set up a schedule, or is there a codeword, or do I put a sock on the door, or…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Billy wanted to die. For some reason. 

“Oh, uh. I mean yeah I guess you can just text me? But it’s not gonna be--”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m a considerate guy, I won’t screw you.”

“Wow, Batson, look at that, you’ve already taken yourself off of the table.”

“That’s not what he meant! Wait, shoot--”

“Who are you arguing with?” Garth asked casually.

Billy slowly turned to look back at him. “...Eheh, whaaaat? Sorry, just, my internal monologue sometimes--”

“It was Zeus, right? I know about the Ganymede thing, I figure I’m within his taste range.”

“He’s not wrong.”

A chill shot through Billy and he frowned. “...How do you--”

“Dami' wanted me to be prepared in the event of, and I quote, ‘Billy fucking up badly enough that you end up with a demon trying to crawl up your ass.’ End quote.”

Billy stared at him. 

“...When you say ‘Dami'--’”

“The stabbiest Christmas elf, yeah.”

Billy groaned. 

[upat4amwiththemoon]

If you are taking requests. May I request Amelia X reader. Reader is her ex but they broke off( private practise , worked with Addison and all ). But reader left maybe to work abroad or the military. Fast forward now reader returns to Grey's Addison called them in , old flame,sparks . reader was always her safe place but they grew apart and had to grow(get sober). Just want Amelia to be happy, idk what the heck happened to Kai :((( I'm sorry if it's too much or silly feel free to if ore.

Somebody that I used to know

Summary: Even though years change people, the love for them stays the same.

Pairing: Amelia Shepherd x female!reader

Warnings: my medical knowledge is zero, talk of addiction, Scout doesn’t exist

Word count: 1997

a/n: Amelia deserves so much better

masterlists | guidelines

Addison walks towards the break room, hoping to find Amelia there before it’s too late. She walks into the room, luckily seeing the youngest Shepherd sitting on the couch, coffee in hand, talking with Maggie Pierce. “Amelia, could I talk to you for a minute?” She says right away, skipping the pleasantries.

With a look, Amelia stands up. “Sure.” She chuckles quietly, slightly nervous. “What’s up?” She asks after Maggie leaves to room for the two.

“I called Doctor Y/L/N here to help me with a patient of mine, she’s arriving today.” She tells, trying to gauge what Amelia’s thoughts are about seeing her ex again. “I wanted to tell you before she’s here.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me.” And with that Amelia leaves the room. Addison sighs, rubbing her forehead. Suddenly she isn’t too sure if she did the right thing, but she really needs Y/N here, she’s the best in her field. She just has to hope everything goes smoothly.

“Addison!” Y/N’s voice calls out excitedly.

The red head turns around to see her doctor friend walking towards her with a bright smile. “Hey, stranger.” Addison laughs, meeting her half way to hug her. “I’m so glad to finally see you. How was the world?” She pulls away, her hands on Y/N’s shoulders to see how much she has changed over the years.

“The world was good.” Y/N decided to leave the practice in Los Angeles to join the Doctors Without Borders, traveling all over the world with them. “How’s Seattle? I didn’t think you’d come back here.” She looks around the hospital. This isn’t her first time in Grey Sloan Memorial, but it has been a long time since she was last here.

“Seattle is good. You know I go where babies need me, and this baby needs us both.” She nods her head forward, so they start walking. “The baby is two months old and his heart is incredibly weak. He won’t survive without a donor heart, but getting a heart that small will take too much time.”

“That’s where I come in.”

“That’s where you come in.” Addison smiles, she missed working with her. “His heart could become strong enough, if you fixed the veins around it.” They walk into a room full of pictures of the baby’s heart and veins.

Y/N looks through the pictures, at times picking one of them up to see it closer. The heart is compromised, and the baby won’t survive long if they do nothing, but the surgery Addison is talking about is incredibly risky. Fortunately, Y/N is a risk taker.

“I can do it,” she states, “but I’m gonna need a lot of help. His vitals need to be monitored closely.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Addison nods. “I’ll get you anything you need.” She pauses for a moment, contemplating on saying anything. “Amelia is here, you know? Incase you wanted to talk to her.”

“Oh.” Y/N clears her throat, cleaning up the pictures into a neat pile so she wouldn’t have to look at Addison staring at her. “I didn’t know that.” She mumbles.

The now silent and tense atmosphere of the room makes Addison question whether she made the right decision. Amelia is one of the most important people in her life, she’s her sister, but she also cares about Y/N a lot. Their relationship didn’t really end on the best terms, mostly because of Amelia’s addiction, but the relationship itself was good. They both were happiest Addison has ever seen when they were together.

“I’ll make a surgery plan and then get back to you, okay?” Y/N states, not waiting for Addison to answer as she leaves the room.

Her mind is all over the place, which makes her walk through the hallways with less attention than usually, though she does greet the familiar faces going past her. However, she doesn’t notice the person walking right towards her with the same state of mind. So, they crash into each other.

All the pictures Y/N was holding fly to the floor. “Shit, I’m sorry.” She grumbles, kneeling down to gather them.

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice makes her head snap up. Amelia is standing over her, an indescribable look on her face. The exes stare at each other in silence, both unsure what to do. They both knew of the others presence in the hospital, but they didn’t think they’d bump into each other, at least not yet.

Her breath hitches as she looks over Amelia’s face. As much as she doesn’t like admitting it, she missed her. “Amy.” With a mumble, Y/N stands up, dusting off her scrubs.

“Amelia, no one calls me Amy anymore.” She says with a small smile. Y/N just nods, putting it to her mind. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah.”

Amelia scratches the back of her neck. “So, Addison called you.”

“She did.” The pictures are starting to crease in her grip. “There’s a..baby, obviously, uhm, and she needed help.” She clears her throat, looking around for an exit. “I actually have to make a surgery plan for tomorrow, so, I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Going to walk past Amelia, she stops once a hand takes hold of her arm. “Could we talk? Just the two of us, later today.”

The ask makes Y/N hesitant, but the way Amelia is looking at her makes her give in. “Okay.”

“Awesome,” a smile spreads on Amelia’s face, “coffee, after work?”

“I’ll see you then.” She lets go and Y/N walks away, Amelia’s eyes never leaving her back.

Amelia paces around the lobby of the hospital, her mind racing a mile a minute. She has always considered Y/N her biggest love, maybe even soulmate, if she truly believes in them. Seeing her again has brought the feelings back to the surface and she isn’t sure what to do with them.

Her thoughts come to a halt when she notices Y/N walking towards her. Instead of her scrubs, she’s now wearing her everyday clothes. She looks just as beautiful as she did all those years ago. And she decides to tell her so, “you look beautiful.” Y/N hums with a slight smile, her cheeks turn warm, but she pays no mind to it. “There’s a small cafe down the street.”

“Let’s go then.” As they walk side by side, Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, looking down at the pavement. The silence is uncomfortable and they desperately want to break it, but neither of them know what’s appropriate to say in a situation like this. “How have you been?” Y/N decodes to ask, glancing at Amelia.

“Better. A lot better actually. I’ve been sober for a long time, though it’s still hard sometimes. I got two new sisters, sort of,” she chuckles, “Meredith and Maggie. And I’m the head of neuro department.”

“I heard about Derek. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Amelia sighs. “It’s okay.” She opens the door of the cafe for Y/N before stepping inside herself. At the counter, they order their coffees, and when it comes time to pay, Amelia pushes Y/N’s hand away from the machine. “My treat.” She pays both of their coffees.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” They move to the other side pf the counter to wait for their coffees. “It’s the least I can do after,” she pauses, “everything.”

“It wasn’t completely your fault.” She looks away from her. “You were going through a tough time.”

“That’s no excuse. I hurt you and drove away one of the best things in my life.”

Being one of the best things in her life sounds like an exaggeration, but the sincerity in Amelia’s eyes makes her believe she really means it. “You’re also important to me.” Before the conversation van keep on going, the barista shouts their names. They take their coffees and find a quiet corner place to sit.

“So, what have you been doing all there years?”

“I moved around with Doctors Without Borders.” Y/N sips her drink. “Also studied a bit on the side.”

“And your love life?”

If Amelia was anything, she was blunt. If she wanted know something, she’d ask, Y/N usually liked her unfiltered talk. “Love life, huh?” She giggles with a shake of her head. “There were some flings and one time things, you know, to release stress I suppose. But nothing that stayed.” Amelia listens intently while she drinks her coffee. “And you?”

She shrugs. “There was Link and Kai, but just like every relationship I have had, they ended with someone’s heart broken.” Amelia has a grin on her face. She has already gotten over the past two relationships, but it’s still disheartening to have failed relationships.

“Hm, you’ll find your person.”

“Maybe,” Amelia keeps eye contact with Y/N, “I really hope so.”

Looking down, Y/N taps the mug in front of her with her nails, all the feelings around them getting overwhelming. “Listen,” she changes the subject, “could you be in the surgery tomorrow? I need someone to monitor her brain activity, and you are the best there is.” She lifts her head to give Amelia a teasing look. “Or at least you used to be. Have you gotten worse over the years?”

“Worse? Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m better than ever.” Amelia answers to the teasing look with a challenging look of her own. “What I’m hearing is, you need my help because you aren’t in the best shape.” Her elbows are leaning against the table.

“Oh, wow.” Y/N crosses her arms. “Your ego is still sky high.”

Amelia laughs, which Y/N giggle as well.

The surgery has been going on for six hours already, and the whole room is tense. Amelia and Addison are monitoring the baby’s health, while Y/N is rerouting the veins near the heart. The surgery is already nearing its end, but there’s still things to do.

Y/N lets out a sigh, shaking her hand to ease the pain in her wrist. It has stayed on one position for a long time. She can feel multiple pairs of eyes on the side of her head, there’s an audience in the viewing room. This is an once in a lifetime surgery after all. Double checking everything she has done, Y/N lifts her head to her friends. “Are his vitals good?” The two nod. “Alright, we’re ready to close.” She says shakily, not ready to relax just yet. But she can feel the relief coursing through the room.

The sutures closing the opening on the baby’s chest don’t take long, as the wound isn’t as big as on an adult. The moment the last suture is on its place, people in the viewing room start cheering, so do the doctors in the operation room. Addison and one other doctor take the baby to NICU, not before thanking Y/N though.

Walking out of the room, Y/N slumps down to a chair, taking off her scrub cap. Amelia sits down next to her. “Watching you work is seriously magnificent.”

Y/N laughs, “you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not!” Amelia throws her arm around Y/N’s shoulders, giving her a side hug. “You’re incredibly and I love you.” Y/N turns to look at her. “Give me another chance? Go on a date with me?”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” Amelia grins widely.

“Yeah.” Y/N smiles too, her heart beating a hundred miles. She isn’t sure if it’s from the surgery she just did, or the fact that Amelia is looking at her like she’s the only person she cares about.

Amelia nods, feeling like she just won the lottery. “I’ll pick you up at eight, wear something pretty.” She kisses her cheek before walking off, going straight to Addison to tell the good news.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Sorry, I meant Ghost in a fight/discussion with reader 😭 Still, I did love your take

CW: Fighting, emotional abuse, light swearing I am so sorry anon 😭😭 I am literally the dumbest person to have ever existed lmaooo Also apologies for length, I am moving and wanted to get you something cause I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again. To whoever asked, I am making a pt.2 so send me an ask if you want to be notified :)

As always, no beta, please lmk of any mistakes!!

A lot of ‘fights’ you guys have are one sided, where you concede quickly, not wanting to argue, and he just keeps going and going. He, like a lot of ND’s, gets a thrill from fighting, and he will pick fights about everything. You just disagree once with what he says and he goes off.

Fem!Reader: Anytime he is upset/angry with you/thinks you are disrespecting or ignoring him, he'll call you 'woman'. 

"I'm still talking woman!" "Watch your mouth woman" "Woman I am talking!" 

He does not love bomb. He does not come after arguing with you with flowers and chocolates and showering you with love to make up for it. 

Don’t get me wrong, this man does bring you flowers, just not to make you feel better after a fight. He’ll get you flowers for valentines day and your birthday and your anniversary and any time he feels like you deserve flowers, but he does not give them to you after fights. 

And you guys don’t fight too often. At least, not fights where he feels bad and has lingering guilt. Very rarely will he realize(or at least admit) That he was wrong, especially not in front of your kids, if you guys have them. However, if he does realize and admit he is wrong(typically after you sleep in a different room or don’t talk to him except for the bare minimum) he will apologize in private.

One very memorable fight for you was back in the early days of your relationship, just after you had started living together. He had left his gear just piled on the front table, and you had folded it and moved it to the bedroom so that it wasn’t cluttering up the front room. He came home and, well, freaked. He screamed at you, punched a hole through a door, and you still remember him telling you ‘Go to hell then woman” when you said you had just wanted the space to be clear. 

He gets pissed off about the stupidest stuff. Your guy's 10-year-old daughter bought a Stanley? He’s mocking him for the next 3 weeks about wanting to be popular. Your teenage-daughter wears ripped jeans to a concert? He’s telling everyone about how she must have bought them at half-price since so much cloth is missing. 

One interesting thing is that he respects fighting back, to an extent. You watched in borderline horror as your eldest got into a screaming match with him that lasted hours and ended with no victor. And yet, since that day, you’ve never seen Simon scream at them again. 

Hearing this, he sounds toxic, yeah? And he is, to an extent. But you stay with him because he knows he has issues, and he actively works on bettering himself. You’ve been with him for a decade now, and you can see so many differences in the way that he acts. He no longer screams and throws things and punches holes in the walls. He is more willing to admit when he is wrong, hell, there's even been a few times when he’s said sorry in front of your kids. 

You understand his trauma, you understand why he responds and acts the way he does, and most importantly He does too, and he is working on bettering himself for his family, because he loves you, and he hates that his explosive reactions hurt you and your kids.

I am going to make a pt. 2 to this so that I can go more in depth, but again, I’m moving and not sure when I will be able to post again so I wanted to at least give you something. lmk what ya'll think :)) ALSO: If you think I am mischaracterizing Ghost please let me know, and I will either explain my reasonings or you will change how I think of him. Either way, I would like to know yalls thoughts so please do not hesitate to say something

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 9 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After being dropped off by Jude’s parents, you stayed on the couch for a good hour thinking about how bizarre the whole day was. You didn’t even want to check your phone right now, so you just left it in your living room and went directly to get a hot shower. 

While undressing, you noticed that you had dinner while wearing Jobe’s jersey. Hah, now it made sense why so many people took double looks at you. Not that you cared.

You just wanted to relax for once. The whole process of getting ready for bed got you in a better mood; so after doing your skincare and drinking some tea, you felt ready to check your messages.

There were some texts from the girls and some from Jobe. You went for Jobe’s first since they were the most recent.

✉️ Jobe: Thank you for the weirdest night ever

✉️ You’re welcome?

✉️ Jobe: No, seriously. I haven’t seen Jude this happy for a while now

✉️ Jobe: He’s close to giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl

✉️ lmao

✉️ Maybe that’s because I told him I was going to unblock him

✉️ Jobe: Did you?

✉️ Not yet…

✉️Jobe:  Well, maybe you should

✉️ Oh my god??? What’s happening???

✉️ Jobe: I talked to him, just… Maybe? I won’t force you tho

✉️ I’ll consider it

✉️ Jobe: That’s good enough for me… Have a good night, darling

✉️ Good night, sweetie

Odd. What could possibly be happening that Jobe was (kinda) defending his brother? You didn’t blame him, obviously. But… Again, odd. With a shrug, you hopped on the girl’s group chat, which had lots of messages from hours ago.

✉️ Nikki: Weeeeell…. I was casually checking the TikToks people were posting about the game… You know, to see how it was going

✉️ Nikki: THEN… Girl, you went a bit viral agaaaaain. You appeared on the big screen and SOME people saw the little interaction Mr. Jobe and you had. The football fandom is going crazy again, a lot of people are debating if you’re his girlfriend or Gio’s girlfriend

✉️ Mia: Since none of them had said a word about the rumors… People are kinda taking sides

✉️ Mia: I also saw that after the first half some girls were looking for you because they were near your seat and you were gone. Then they noticed you were sitting next to THE Jude Bellingham and went on trying to figure out if you were his girlfriend instead while taking videos and photos to POST?!

✉️ Nikki: MESSY

✉️ Oh god… I just saw this… WHY ME, LORD?!

✉️ It’s like… For each day of peace I get, ten days of absolute chaos are piled up on my door

✉️ Nikki: It’s the drama, the fun, the footballers, the fame

✉️ Nikki: Our beautiful little WAG

✉️ Mia: If it’s not with douchie, it’s with that Gio guy

✉️ Mia: Heʼs hot af

✉️ Mia???? 

✉️ Do you want his number?

✉️ Nikki: Omg, Miaaaa

✉️ Mia: Both of you… Shut up. This isn’t about me finding Gio the hottest man alive, this is about YOU getting shipped with half of the footballers you know

✉️ Don’t remind me of that, please

✉️ I’ll better get some sleep before the vein on my forehead explodes, bye my loves

✉️ Nikki: Bye baby! Sweet dreams

✉️ Mia: Score a goal!

✉️ Fuck you lmao

Great. You were never getting rid of that stupid “popularity” among the football fanbase… Well, at least among the people that cared about the player’s love lives. They knew your face now, even if the subject of who your “boyfriend” was died down. You were out there forever for people to see and have an opinion.  

Time to sleep.

You were on your way to turn off the lights and wash your cup when the telecommunicator started to ring; you almost let out a scream. Who on Earth was ringing your house at two A.M?! With your heart beating like crazy, you ran to answer and yell to the jerk on the other side. 

“Miss! I’m so sorry to bother you this late but…” Mel’s words were interrupted by some loud male voices. “There’s a couple of gentlemen asking me to allow them into your floor…” Oh, poor Mel. 

You couldn't scream to your sweet doorman Mel.

“Mel! Hi... Gentlemen? As... Men asking to come here?” This was unbelievable.

“Yes, uh. They'd been here for at least ten minutes. I'd tried to persuade them into leaving but nothing works."

“Do you happen to recognize these gentlemen?” Your gut feeling was very reliable, so you kinda knew who it was. 

“Well… I’m not so sure about it, but I think that’s… Bukayo Saka and Jude Bellingham, miss.” 

He surely knew them at first sight, but it was adorable he was trying to dissimulate it.

“Oh, my god…” You sighed. When was this going to end? “Just… Let them in, Mel.”

“As you wish.” 

You wanted to punch someone so bad right now. But you just stayed there, by your door, waiting for what seemed to be the night of never end.

No less than five minutes later, your door was being punched at. Because that wasn't a knock. You considered for a moment letting them outside, but you weren't going to sleep if you did that. 

When you opened it, the silliest sight welcomed you. There was Bukayo, a mutual friend that you haven't seen in very long, carrying (if you can call that carrying) a very drunk Jude. How did you know he was drunk? Well, he was (seemingly) asleep against Bukayo's side, only kept from falling because of his friend's arm around his waist. 

“Okay...” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “This is... Something.”

“So sorry to do this at such late hours... He's been so insistent. He got a bit too drunk and started to ask about where his girlfriend was and that he wanted to come home.” Bukayo's eyes went blank, sighing. He seemed pretty sober to you. “I tried to persuade him into visiting you tomorrow, but this guy never takes no for an answer.”

“That sounds like him.” You smiled at him apologetically. Because what else could you do? No one knew you two had broken up, and this wasn't the best moment to break the news either. “Let's take him to the couch, I'll help you.”

You got closer, feeling the smell of alcohol reeking from Jude. Iugh. You took one of his arms, putting it around your shoulders. Hah, and just a couple of hours earlier you were trying to avoid just that. With a lot of effort, both of you laid him out the best you could. That didn't mean that it was done in the most careful way. So he woke up, looking at you and then at Bukayo. 

“Am I dreaming, mate?”

“Nah, fam. I did what you asked me; I took you to your girl.” He palmed Jude's arm and then smiled at you. “Now I'm out, this whole thing tired me up.”

“That's okay. Thank you for taking care of him.” You gave him a little hug after guiding him to the door. “I hope we can catch up another time without this type of thing going on.”

“Me too.” He smiled again, looking as sweet as ever, and then turned and left. 

Now you were alone with...

“Darling?” Oh no, not the darling. 

You turned, looking at Jude, who was struggling to keep himself sat upright. He was looking at you with the most drunken-hazed eyes ever, accompanied by the biggest of smiles.

“Yes, Jude?” It was better not to argue with a drunk person this late at night.

“Can I tell you something?”  

“Yeah, sure.” You got closer, sitting on the carpet. Not too close, but not too far away from him. “What is it?”

“I'm an idiot. I'm so dumb, I got drunk tonight, and I miss you.” The smile left his face, but he was still looking at you with happy eyes. “Every time I see your face, I remember that I'm mad dumb for breaking up with you. Because I still love you. A lot.” He let himself fall back into the couch pillows, sighing. “I don't know why I panicked so much a month ago. It was a stupid chat.”

“Sorry?” Your heart was beating fast because of his past confessions, but this new phrase caught your attention way more. “What chat?”

He wasn't looking at you. He was just looking up at the ceiling, like he was trying to remember something.

“Just some stupid chat the coach gave us before you arrived at Dortmund that day... He was talking about how we, as professionals, had to settle in earlier so we didn't get carried away because of all the money and parties... And the drugs. He said that there was a reason for footballers to get married and have kids at such young ages.” He sighed again, looking tired. “And I knew he was talking to the younger part of the team, which included me... I just... I felt like I was being pressured to marry immediately... I got so carried away with my thoughts that I panicked when I saw you. You make me so happy, but I didn't feel ready for any of the coach's options.”  

“So... You broke up with me instead of talking?” Woah. “That's fucked up, Jude.”

“I know... And I'm not asking you to forgive me or... Get back together with me... Even though that's what I have been wishing since I said the words, but... I wanted you to know.”

He didn't seem drunk at all now. 

“Thank you for telling me.” That's all you could say for now. Too much information to take in. 

“Would you have said yes?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the ceiling. 

“To what?”  

“Marrying me.”

You felt like someone punched your heart and took the air out of your body. At the same time. 

“I won't answer that.” Mostly because you didn't know the answer. “Get some sleep.” You got up, looking down at him. 

“Why not?”

You took a long look at his face. You gave him a little smile, reaching for his cheek with one of your hands. You caressed it with the tip of your fingers before regretting touching him at all. He closed his eyes, but opened them when you retrieved your hand. 

“Because there's no point in answering something that's not going to happen.”

He frowned, looking offended for a second before relaxing his face again. 

“Well, I haven't asked you.”

“And you shouldn't, because that's something you do when you're sure about it... And not drunk.” You took one of the covers you kept close, tucking him on the sofa so he couldn't move. “And when you're in a relationship, of course. Now sleep or I'll kick you out of my house.”

“Okay...” He appeared so similar to a kid now, all flustered and with big eyes. “I'm sorry for all of this.”

“I forgive you.”

And that was true. You forgave him for all of it. You couldn't hold a grudge forever. It wasn't healthy. 

“Really?” Hope sparkled in his eyes. It made your heart ache.

“I promise.”

Then you got closer and kissed his forehead to prove him right about your words. He gave you the biggest of smiles, again, before falling asleep right there. You gave him a last caress on the cheek before turning the lights off and walking towards your bedroom.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought it was impossible to get any sleep after what happened, but the moment your head touched the pillow, you were out. The stress was draining your energy. You blacked out until the next morning, when a knock on the door woke you up. 

You remembered everything that had happened just a couple of hours ago. There was Jude, knocking on your door like he was a stranger. Somehow, it felt like it. 

“Come on in.” You said after a few seconds, rubbing your face.

The door slowly opened up. Jude was still covered in the blanket, holding it together with one hand below his chin while the other rubbed his eye. Pretty much the same as you. You couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. 

“Good morning.” Even his voice had a little hint of shyness.

“Did you sleep well?” Was all you said while you got up and walked towards the bathroom.

“Yes...” He followed you, just two steps behind. “Thank you.”

“Stop saying 'thank you', just come here and brush your teeth.” You grabbed one of the brand new toothbrushes you kept in the drawer, offering it to him. 

He seemed so scared yet happy about your behavior while taking the toothbrush. You weren't fooling anyone, it was fun to play with his mind a little bit. Payback.

He stood there watching you brush your teeth, wash your face, and brush your hair. It was very funny.

“I'm not going to suddenly take a knife out and follow you around the house with it, Jude. Get cleaned or you won't get breakfast.” You got out of the bathroom, smiling at him when he just blinked at you. “All yours.” And then you left him alone in there.

You entered the kitchen, ready for some breakfast. You heard the bathroom sink go on and off for a few minutes. Meanwhile, you decided to make some scrambled eggs with ham and toast some beagles. It was the best you could offer with so many thoughts taking most of your concentration. 

When you were finishing the second plate, Jude appeared by the door and stayed there. He looked at the plates with surprise, like it was actually impossible for you to be making breakfast for him. 

“It's getting cold.” You offered him one of the plates that was already sitting on the mini table you had available. 

“Are you preparing me for my sudden death, darling?” He sat in front of you, waiting for you to take the first bite. He always did that. 

“Not yet.” You took a bite off the beagle, smiling when he did the same. “Maybe after I eat.” 

He smiled but didn't say anything. You ate in silence, looking at each other from time to time. You felt different around him now that you knew what caused him to break up with you. It wasn't that you suddenly forgot about everything else or how mad you felt, but it made things easier. You wanted to talk. Now there was a real reason for it. 

“I'll wash the dishes.” Before you could say anything, he took both plates and stood up. 

“Go ahead... And after you finish them, we'll talk.”

“Do I make some tea first?” 

“Yeah, that'll be nice.” 

He seemed to understand what was crossing your mind, so he made the tea quietly and walked to the living room. You followed him. 

“Well...” You took a sip of the tea. “Do you remember what you said last night?” 

“I do...” He squirmed on the seat. He was nervous. “I wanted to tell you all that sober but... I fuck up things quite regularly.” 

You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Okay, it's good for the sake of this conversation that you remember everything. Now, when I said that I forgive you, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not angry or hurt by all of it.” He nodded. “I'm still disappointed about how poorly you managed the whole thing; you just needed to talk to me, and the breakup would never have happened.”

“I know.” He covered his face, sighing. “I'm an idiot.” 

“Yeah! Look at me, I spent a month thinking you didn't love me anymore, and it turns out that you just were a bastard that didn't know how to talk to his girlfriend.” You slightly pushed his arm with your foot. “You said you didn't love me as you used to... Why?” 

“I don't know.” He groaned, taking his hands off his face. “I guess I wanted you to hate me. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He grabbed your ankle, dragging your leg closer to his body. “I think I love more than before, actually.” 

You didn't say anything for a while, you just looked at him for the longest time, trying to figure out what to do next. 

“I'm very mad at you.” You took a deep breath. “That club thing you did after we broke up is still fresh in my mind. I can't pretend everything is the same just because we talked.” 

“I know. I'm a jerk for doing that. I just wanted to see if... If I could act like I was okay. I wanted to feel okay. And couldn't accept that I regretted breaking up with you the second you left.” 

“Always your big ego, huh?” You laughed. “Don't take this as if we just got back together. We're... We're friends from now on.” 

“We are friends for now.” He said, smiling. “Because I'll do everything that's in my power to win you back.”

“Whatever you say, Bellingham.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @erensfavgirly | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @jul1ettt | @wavessmile

[starry-nights-garden]

✧ Ateez Hongjoong x gn!reader ✧ words: ~700 ✧ genre: fluff ✧ warnings: none ✧ prompt: kisses to shut them up

You’re in the middle of writing an important paper. Hongjoong knows that, and he knows you need your surroundings to be as quiet as possible for it, so you won’t get sidetracked and have to read your sources multiple times because you forgot what the text was saying in the middle of the page. Your boyfriend knows all that, and you feel sorry for not being able to spend much time with him until the deadline, so you thought if you at least let him stay over at your place for a day or two he would be satisfied.

However, you couldn’t have been more wrong. You’ve never seen him sulk this much, and though the pout that’s on his lips 24/7 is indeed very cute, it’s also very distracting.

“Say… can you get me a coffee or something? I feel like I’m losing all my concentration…” you ask, without taking your eyes off of the computer screen in front of you. 

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Hongjoong responds and then he gets up from the chair next to you to walk to the kitchen. As soon as he has left the room, you take a deep breath and you lean back as far as you can to stretch your back thoroughly. You rub your eyes and then you go back to comparing the two sources in front of you. I don’t even need coffee, you catch yourself thinking, It’s enough when he’s out of the room…

You too have been missing him badly, and only now that it’s too late do you realize what a mistake it was to let him come over before finishing your paper.

Hongjoong returns with a cup of hot coffee in his hand, including just the amount of sugar and milk that you like, and he puts it down on the desk next to your keyboard. 

“Thanks,” you say and you shoot him a tired smile.

“I think you should take a little break.” He sits down with those words and he puts one hand on your arm. There is proof that he cares a lot about you behind the look in his deep brown eyes.

“Hongjoong, the deadline is in three days, if I take a break now I won’t be able to finish!” you argue, but your boyfriend shakes his head.

“It doesn’t have to be a long break. But I think you should just take an hour or two to recharge, so you can focus again!” he answers. “You can’t tell me you can still process any of that.” He gestures towards the screen while shooting you a sceptical expression. 

“Wait- a full hour?!” you retort. “Do you know how much work I could get done in an hour?? If I take an hour break now I will have to cut into my sleep, and then I certainly won’t be able to focus. I have to-” Before you can continue your upset rambles, Hongjoong leans in and brushes his lips against yours. He kisses you, calmly and without a rush, and you can’t bring yourself to pull back in order to keep yelling at him about why you need to return to your work as soon as possible. And somehow his careful touches take some of the stress away, which has been resting heavy on your shoulders for the past weeks, piling up some more day by day.

“Just for a little while,” he whispers when he breaks the kiss, and gives you a meaningful look in hopes of conveying to you how important it is to get away from your paper for some time. “It doesn’t have to be an hour if you’re afraid that that will take too much time away from you. But trust me, you will be able to work faster again with a free mind.” You sigh.

“Fine. But only for 30 minutes,” you give in somewhat reluctantly, but the bright grin that appears on Hongjoong’s face upon you complying leaves you unable to be mad at him. He takes you by the hand and jumps up.

“Then let’s go for a walk together, okay? We can get some fresh air, and maybe buy some snacks on the way to give you back your energy!” he suggests, already dragging you towards the front door.

[signanothername]

Sooo... I'm back from the dead after dying from the overflow of too many positive emotions yesterday... (thanks for all the kind words 🩷)

And I'm back with another ask! Cool.

My question is not something necessarily related to the topic of the blog or anything, but rather about your artistic process?

So, personally I think many artists have those moments, or maybe specific paintings, that may just be emotionally draining. Like you're drawing a piece, and you don't like it for some reason, you try to change it, but you still don't like the painting, and you keep trying, but it's just something that's missing and you don't understand what it is and it just becomes frustrating and you start to get angry and-

Well, at least I seem to have such moments quite often (I dunno, maybe I'm just a perfectionist), and as far as I'm concerned different artists have their different ways to cope with this, so I wonder - do you have such moments sometimes and what do you usually do about it?

I'm sorry for the long ask I just can't keep things short and I'm just always curious about such things and the way different artists do stuff 😅

Hello!! Amazing to see you again! <33333 (of course!! Thank you for your kind words as well aaahh 😭❤️✨🌷)

As for your question, oooh boi, yes actually I have these moments A LOT, it’s cause i’m a perfectionist myself jdhdhdh

In fact, these kinda moments is why i sometimes give up on certain artworks or comics I make, and that’s why my wips just always seem to pile up, here are some examples of two artworks and a page of a comic I gave up on cause I just couldn’t for the life of me make them into what I wanted

And I will be lying to you if I said I have a solution for it or that I know how to deal with it

But I deal with it in two ways, I either completely delete the sketch i made and start over again

Or what I usually do is that I actually stop if i find the piece I’m working on emotionally draining, let go of the artwork and work on something else that i find fun, cause “giving up” doesn’t necessarily mean i will never get back to them, I see it as “taking a break” from the artwork till I get inspiration or motivation back to work on it again

Generally I’ve learned that in art, it’s ok to take things slow, I don’t always need to finish the artwork that I started before I start working on something else, in fact, taking things slow is how I made art much more enjoyable to me, cause it means I actually enjoy the process instead of treating it like there’s some sort of deadline above my head

To give you an example of what i mean, this artwork right here? Took me over 2 weeks to finish, not cause i couldn’t finish it quickly (in fact i can easily finish the same artwork in less than an hour) I just taught myself to take my time when making art, take things slow snd enjoy the process bit by bit, i worked on the quick sketch, closed it, then got back to it to work on cleaning it up multiple times, closed it again, then worked on coloring it and so on

And that’s also how i deal with artworks that make me frustrated, i take things slow, if i get frustrated then i simply close the artwork and work on something else till i have the motivation to work on what frustrated me again, that way i took a little break, and sometimes actually while working on something else you might get an idea on how to fix the artwork that frustrated you, but ultimately art is supposed to be fun not frustrating, so it’s ok not to finish artworks, it’s ok to abandon artworks if you don’t like them or if they emotionally drain you

That’s how i deal with it at least, but i say try to find your own path to how to deal with it, cause my way might not work for you, so i say experiment and find out :D

And nah don’t apologize i love long asks actually dychchch

[vortex-detected]

Under the Stars

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: lee minho x gn!reader 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst. like. so much. but they make up at the end (kinda) so its okay. 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 900+ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: cursing. angst. im kinda projecting here but oh well. minhos kind of a idiot. jisung makes an appearance (very brief, but needa a warning in itself) 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you try to reconnect with minho after an argument you guys had. but what happens when he just ghosts you out of nowhere?

A/N: its been.. forever since ive wrote. hello? im sorry it took me so long. ive been in a horrific writers block, but in honor of skz's new comeback and collision having me on a chokehold, you get this. this song is heavily inspired by collision, as its my favorite from the album. this was rushed and is probably really bad, but i kinda liked how it turned out. its also not edited so sorry for any mistakes. anyway stream 5 star and have a good day/night loves!! <3

“Minho..?” You wait for a split second, expecting a response. But you quickly realize it’s a voicemail again. “It’s… It’s [Y/N]. I know we left off on the wrong foot. The… very wrong foot. I just… needed space. And a lot of it. What you had said back there was hurtful, but I’m willing to forgive you, Minho. You just have to pick up. That’s all you have to do,” your breath hitches, you let out a sigh, trying not to cry. “I… really miss you, Minho. I miss everything about you..” a sob can be heard over the phone. “J-Just call me back… o-or text me back. Goodbye, Minho.” With that, you hung up the phone. Waiting for him to listen to the voice message.

And the voice message he heard. He heard all of the ones you left. It was eating him alive. The boys did their best to reconnect you two, but Minho refused. Many. Many times. “Jisung, you know I just… I don’t deserve them after what I said-” “Dude, you realize they’re willing to forgive you… right?” Jisung adds, “Just… call them back. Once. Explain what went through your head.” At that, Minho rolls his eyes. “So what, ‘Hey, [Y/N]. I’m sorry for calling you a clingy asshole and someone who disrespected my boundaries for their own pleasure because-’ you get the point, Jisung.”  “But you didn’t mean it… did you?” Jisung asks. “No of course not!” he explains. “Problem solved! See? I’m so good at relationship advice.”

--------------

That was two months ago. Two. Long. Months. It affected Minho a lot. He almost called you one day, but decided against it. His insecurities finally eat him up. He had to do something before it got worse. He was a fucking idiot and he knew it. You kept leaving voice messages for him, and then, it hit him.

You really did want to talk to him.

It took him two months of voice messages piling up, waiting for the day you called him baby again. Like you always did. He missed your voice. And not over the phone. He breathes in deeply as he dials your number. Waiting for you to pick up. 

Except… you never did. Now it’s time for Minho to leave the voice messages. “[Y/N]... I’m such a fucking idiot-” He laughs at himself. “I… was too scared to call. Thinking you didn’t want to talk to me ever again. I thought all of these voice messages were stupid fucking pranks. That you were… fucking with me. I was stupid to call you what I did. I know you were just worrying about me and I’m.. really fucking sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long, but please… I want to try again. I’ve been going insane without you.” he sniffles slightly, not really wanting to have a heart to heart over the phone. “Can… Can you meet me at our star gazing spot..? We can talk it out under the stars.”

--------------

Minho waits under your tree. Our tree, you called it. He doesn’t want to taint it as much as hes already tainting it. He’s been there for a good while now. Maybe you didn’t get his message. Had you blocked him? Maybe you chose to ignore it. His thoughts are cut off by a soft “M-Minho…?” He whips around to the sound to see you behind the tree. You smile widely at him, but it's a sad smile. He smiles back the same smile. “Hi…”

You don’t give him enough to talk as you wrap your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. “D-Don’t you… ever. fucking ghost me again-” He rubs your back as you cry onto his shoulder. “I-... I won’t. I’m sorry, love.” He realized what he said, ready to apologize, when he hears you giggle. “I missed that… I missed you, Minho.” you say, calming down as he rubs your back. “I missed you too…”

You let go of him, sitting in front of him. “I’m glad you finally decided to come out. I’ve… I’ve been here ever since the break. I come here everyday.” you confess. Minho stares at you wide eyed, blinking a couple of times. “Really? So I could’ve just gone here and you would’ve been here?” You nod your head. “God, I’m such an idiot.” he shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s okay, baby. We all have those moments-” His head perks up at that. “God how long I’ve waited for you to call me that… but I don’t deserve it. Not yet.” he stands up. “M-Min… Don’t leave-”

He never planned on leaving. “[Y/N]. I’m so sorry-... I should’ve never said anything I said that night. I didn’t mean a word of it. I was just so fucking stressed and I took it out on the first thing that tipped me over the edge. And… I guess it was you. I don’t really remember what you did, but I’m just…” he holds your hands in his, as he stares at you in the eyes. “I’m so. Fucking sorry. I don’t want to… I don’t want to be the one to destroy our relationship. I-... I can’t. I’d feel like shit if I truly did. Let me make it up to you… Let me start fresh, okay?” He stares at you, hoping you would take his apology. 

“I would love that, Minho.”

[mooniekive]

Slow Burn | six [final] (preview & link)

Pairing: min yoongi x reader 

AU: neighbors!au | producer!yooongi and teacher reader | they both identify as bi, and reader is aspec (grey-sexual/demi-romantic)

Genre: slow burn, kind of slice of life | fluff, smut

Word Count: 663 words (preview) | 14k (chapter)

Warnings: preview is safe, but in chapter you will find smut - oral m/f receiving, and penetrative sex. A lot of time jumps, sorry if it's annoying.

Synopsis: 

When one of your best friends and neighbors moves in with his partner, you’re surprised to have a quiet (and attractive) man move in next door. His protective nature intrigues you, and his looks pull you in with a magnetism so unfamiliar to you.

Min Yoongi is so used to being on his own that when he moves into a new place, and into an existing little found family, he’s forced out of his little box. He has no other choice but to finally allow himself to want. To want what he always desired — a place and people to comfortably exist with. 

Preview under cut, or read on ao3

It’s past 10pm when you reach for the phone ringing on the bedside table. You were under the assumption that you’d find the clock striking midnight and the screen showing February 25, but to your surprise you have not slept longer than it feels you have. You groggily accept Yoongi’s call, and past the sleep still fogging your brain there’s the beginning of some nervous fear seeping through trying to reach your consciousness. 

“Oppa?” you ask, doing your best to sit up on the bed. Bokshil chirps annoyed from all the movement and sound you make, so he stands from his curled position by your feet and jumps down to head to his tree and curl up again. 

“Shit, did I wake you sweetheart?” 

He sounds exhausted, so you start pulling the covers off you, embracing the cold that meets your body as you try to sit up. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, I slept earlier than I thought I would. What’s wrong?” Usually during wintertime you tend to sleep pretty early on Fridays, like the exhaustion of the week piles up until your body practically drags you to bed. 

Yoongi sighs and you can hear the uncertainty in that shaky breath, worry seeping more into you as you stand and step into slippers. “I’m sorry, but can you come over, please?” 

It’s not unusual for Yoongi to call you late at night to catch up, he’s been spending a lot of time in the studio and gets home pretty late. He’s been preparing for his second album, which will have some choreography that has him working for longer hours to prepare for it. He also started having shoulder pains because of said choreography so you often just come over to help massage some lotion onto it and sleep beside him, even if you have to leave early the next day for work. It’s been difficult to see each other for longer than a few hours awake lately. 

This, however, feels different. He sounds antsy. 

“Are you okay, is it your shoulder?” 

“No, no, not that… I mean, it does hurt a little, but it’s not that. Just come over, please, baby.” 

“I’m almost there,” you insist just as you quietly step out of the apartment so as not to wake Namjoon and Jeongguk. Namjoon has been spending a lot of time over at the apartment, which you don’t mind. On the contrary, you welcome having your friend over so often, but it does make you even more aware when you make noise that perhaps Jeongguk is used to, but he isn’t yet.   

“Thank you,” he says almost like a sigh, then hangs up. 

You’re not sure what to expect when you submit the code to the boys’ apartment. The place is quiet, with Taehyung away on some ambassador work for a brand in Europe.  You do miss the sounds of Taehyung watching an old movie or listening to music late into the night from his bedroom, and you hope he returns home safely soon. There’s some light guiding you to Yoongi’s room as it seeps into the hallway from the door frame.

Yoongi is pacing in his room when you enter. His hair is slightly damp and he wears one of his usual sleepwear outfits — black shirt and pajama pants. Clearly he was getting ready for bed but whatever is going on in his head isn’t allowing him to relax. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you step in and close the door behind you. 

Yoongi’s worried expression softens when he sees you. He stops pacing and walks over to you. His embrace is strong and warm, and it almost knocks the air out of you. He smells of his shampoo and that perfume with a hint of citrus that lingers in his skin and has become part of his natural scent. 

“I needed to see you,” he whispers just beside your ear. “We should talk, and I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

continue here

[startanewdream]

#1 - Smile, for @hinnymicrofic. Around 500 words.

(So excited about this!)

The sound of the giggles made Ginny huff and throw an annoyed glance at the Fourth Year girls reunited around a table in the Common Room; Crookshanks, until then napping quietly on her lap, woke up with an indignant meow.

“Sorry,” she asked, patting him under the chin until the cat lied down again.

“What’s bothering you?” Hermione asked, peeking from her book.

“That stupid poll.”

“Oh.” Hermione smirked. “It’s not finished yet?”

“They are counting the votes.” She rolled her eyes. “I just wished they’d do it quietly. Harry is not even around.”

“If he were, he would be hiding.” Hermione laughed; she was enjoying this too much for Ginny’s taste. “He is not keen to find out what is his best feature according to a selected pool of eleven to seventeen-year-old girls and boys.”

“We all know what’s going to win. His eyes.”

“That was my vote,” agreed Hermione, unashamed. “Ron voted on his hair, but I think he was just teasing.”

“Harry’s hair is okay,” Ginny said, distracted. “It’s dark and messy, makes you want to ruffle it—”

“Does it?” Ginny bristled with the teasing. “That’s what you voted on?”

“No,” Ginny replied dignifiedly. “That was a stupid poll, I told you.” Under Hermione’s piercing gaze, she flushed. “And his best feature wasn’t even an option anyway.”

“What did they miss? Even his scar was there.”

“That was bad taste—and it’s obvious. It’s Harry’s smile.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Smile? Are we talking about slightly moody, prone to snap, Harry? Or are you thinking about his oddly arrogant smirk ?”

“No, his smile. Normal smile. Happy smile. Lips curved, eyes lightened, dimples at the corner of his mouth.” A blush came to her cheeks and Ginny looked down quickly, glancing down to her pile of books to revise. “He smiled like that a lot during summer break, but I guess he has other things on his mind now.

“Or maybe he doesn’t have the same reasons to smile so much. You also seem less excited than you were in the summer.”

“You mean when I had no worries about exams and revisions and—”

“And Dean.”

Her blush intensified. “I smile around Dean,” she said. Maybe Dean had been annoying her lately more often than not, sure, but still, he made her happy—though she couldn’t recall the last time she’d met him and beamed… Wait, he’d told Seamus a joke the previous night and Ginny had laughed: did that count?

“I’m just saying,” Hermione noted calmly. “Maybe Harry’s smile is not viewed as his best feature because he saves it for special moments.”

She was going to reply, but then the portrait door opened, and Harry entered the Common Room with Ron. They were talking, an easy expression on Harry’s face, but when he caught Ginny’s eyes, his face lit up and there it was: the smile that Ginny associated with hot and bright summer days.

And then she understood why no one would notice it, because Harry quickly bit his lip, waving at her rather awkwardly, and looked away, the smile carefully hidden.

Around the table, Romilda let out a loud giggle as she announced they had the final result. Ginny rolled her eyes again and pulled a book to herself; that pool would never reveal Harry’s best feature.

[ateezivy]

without you

( 2023 )

warning ! mentions of eating disorder, lots of crying, all i can think of, lmk if i missed anything.

Tour without Ivy has been weird. There is a missing piece in the puzzle. And while all the boys have been having fun on tour, it’s still not the same. And it’s evident to people everywhere. However, tonight’s the night. They get their girl back.

She called them a few weeks ago with the news that she would be in the audience in Berlin, and then she would join them again on tour. They screamed at this news. like actually screamed. But honestly, who wouldn’t, Ateez is going to be a full nine again. The boys got all hyped on the way to the arena. Jumping around, singing, yelling, a lot of yelling. Soon, they were all backstage chilling while the staff set everything up before rehearsal. 

“Boys,” their manager calls for them. They all look up and see him standing there staring at them. He didn’t say anything, earning a confused look from Hongjoong. They all watch as he walks over to the door and opens it. And in walks Ivy. 

Mingi was of course the first to jump off the couch and run over to her, hugging her tightly, and kissing her softly. The boys all piled over to her, suffocating her in a group hug. 

“Make sure to let her breathe,” the manager said before walking out laughing. 

“Okay, he’s right, let me breathe” she giggled as all the boys backed away, taking a look at her. She was planning on getting ready in the dressing room before she had to go out into the crowd, not wanting to be in her planned outfit longer than she had to. So she had on a pair of mom jeans and one of Mingi’s many tour hoodies. She looked so much healthier and happier. You can only see some much on a FaceTime call. She also cut her hair short with some bangs, that one they haven’t seen. 

“You cut your hair!” Wooyoung pointed out

“Yeah! You like it?” She asked, messing with the ends of her hair

“Love it” Hongjoong smiled. 

Everyone sat down, Mingi has not let go of her since she walked in, he needs to make sure she was there. “So, how was your hiatus?” Jongho asked, watching her sigh a snuggle closer to her boyfriend

“Hell,” she commented “There was nothing to do, I had too much free time. And you know they didn’t even let me drive for the first few weeks?” She scoffed. 

“Yeah, they wanted you to have that time to yourself Livvy, that’s what it’s for” Seonghwa chuckled and ruffled her hair. 

“Don’t care, torture” 

“How dare they make sure you’re safe,” Hongjoong said sarcastically 

“See you get it” Ivy joked along and walked around the room looking for something. 

“What’re you looking for?” Mingi asked, getting up to help her 

“Something to eat” The boys all smiled, it was clear that the hiatus helped. Of course, she’s been through this before, she understood the steps to get through it, and because she was away from her family, and her life, she was more motivated to get better.

“How long did it take?” Yunho asked her. She knew what he meant. How long did it take her to eat a full meal without throwing it up? 

“Not too long, just have to eat foods I’m comfortable with for right now, My therapist told me to eat a new fear food once a week, so I ate a burger yesterday,” She said “I feel like the only thing I can eat without wanting to vomit is salad, fruit, and that’s like it.” 

It’s sad, her once favorite foods have become the foods she fears. She may be back from hiatus, but she is still forever healing. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” one of the stylists came in, smiling when she saw Ivy, “But you guys have to get ready for soundcheck, Ivy, honey, you’re always welcome to join” 

Ivy jumped up and ran over to the stylist, hugging her and filling her in on everything she did and didn’t do over break. The boys all laughed as they followed the girls. They put their earpieces in and get their mics, Ivy looks over and sees her purple mic untouched next to Jongho’s before he picks it up. 

“You wanna come out?” He asked, pointing to her microphone, he hopes she says yes. “There’s Atiny out there, but it’s not a lot” 

“Sure” She smiles and has Mingi help her with her earpieces quickly as she picks her mic up. Mingi slips the mic pack into her back pocket, giving her butt a tap, which would be more surprising if he didn’t do that. He then feeds the attached ear-pieces through her hoodie, letting her catch them from over her shoulders, she lets them dangle there as she turns her mic on. 

“Okay, c’mon.” their manager smiles. The boys rush up to the stage, Mingi holds his girlfriend's waist from behind as he kisses her on the cheek before they follow behind the others. As she went out behind the others, the VIP’s immediately recognized her and started greeting her. She assumed Hongjoong asked them to stay calm, or Atiny was just that brilliant to stay calm in that moment. She felt fairly anxious singing in front of fans again, the last time she did she sounded horrible and then fainted.

“Don’t dance with us, you haven’t stretched and I’m not letting you when you just ate” Hongjoong said sternly, giving her a stool that was set on stage for her. While she was gone, Wooyoung normally took her lines, and she’s excited to hear him sing her lines tonight too. But right now, her lines are hers again. Some staff set some water beside her as the music started. As her lines in New World came up, she felt nerves and excitement build up in her chest. As soon as she started singing, the boys all smiled so brightly while dancing, the VIP fans cheered her on, singing along, and the fans outside started screaming loud enough for her to hear. She chuckled out of disbelief through her lines. After New World, Hongjoong and Seonghwa ran off stage quickly. “What’re they doing?” She asked San who grabbed himself water. The sweat from his forehead dripped onto the stage floor as he looked at her. He shrugged, but it was obvious he knew. 

“What are you guys up to” She giggled as Yeosang and Mingi walk over right as San left. “You’ll see, be patient” Mingi smiled and rubbed her thigh. The stool she sat on was getting uncomfortable, there was no backrest and she just now realized she was slouching. She fixed her posture, showing a face of pain, Yeosang noticed and rubbed her back for a second before she heard a familiar melody play through the speakers. Her song It Will Stop started playing. 

Fans outside started screaming like crazy, and the fans in the arena started freaking out as well. Hongjoong and Seonghwa ran back up on stage, ushering her to sing her lyrics. This song was special to her. It was the first song she wrote for herself. It was the easiest, yet most difficult thing to write. She put all her emotions into the song, knowing that one day, she would relate to it again. 

She sang the song without struggle, her boys watching and singing along with pride. After it ended they all cheered for her. The boys, the fans, the staff, everyone. She felt herself getting shy, smiling with her face hidden in her hands. Yunho jumped over and picked her up over his shoulder, making her squeal and almost drop her mic. Somehow, Mingi and Yunho managed to sit her on both of their shoulders for some pictures. There have been so many pictures and videos taken from this moment. She can’t wait to go home and frame them all.

After a small amount of time, Ivy sat on the edge of the stage to talk to the fans while the boys calmed down. “Hi” she smiled and the Atiny’s greeted her back. “How are you Ivy?” A fan with a deep accent asked. “I’m good how are you guys?” She smiled as a chorus of ‘good’ and ‘great’ was said amongst the small crowd. She felt a hand on her back, making her turn and see Mingi sitting on her left and Wooyoung on her right. They talked to the fans for sometime, avoiding questions of Ivy’s return with simple shrugs and changes of questions.

After soundcheck, they all walked back to the dressing room. Ivy had grabbed her bag full of a change of clothes for the concert from the ‘hangout room’, as they called it. Mingi went in with her, just to have a minute alone. “You sure you don’t want to stay back here and watch?” He asked, hugging her. There was everything she needed in that room, a TV to watch the concert from, a bathroom, food, water, and outlets. Everything. It’s also 10 times safer back here than in the crowd. 

“I’m sure, I got a good spot, the bodyguards will be with me.” There was a spot right behind the pit where staff usually stayed, it was a spot for people to walk through before, after, and during the show. 

“Okay,” he nodded, not arguing with it because he knew she would be in good hands. The two shared a few kisses and giggles before they had to go and get ready. Ivy went into the bathroom to change before everyone else. She walked out wearing a red bodycon dress, a black oversized leather jacket, and some Prada boots. 

“Ah, you look so good!” The stylists all cheered, making the boys all turn and look at her. The dress showed off her figure, she had gotten so much healthier already. 

“This jacket might piss me off three songs in, so if you see me throw this back on, shut your mouth.” She held up the hoodie she was just wearing, making everyone chuckle. 

“You’re so cute” San chuckled and hugged her. 

“How long are you staying back?” Seonghwa questioned

“Right before you guys go on they’re gonna sneak me out” She stated with a smile 

“Good, cause you’re matching the first outfits, it will look good for pictures” Wooyoung clapped.

The time went by, the boys got everything they needed to do done, and finally, they hear the fans piling in and singing as they all got ready. “Ah, handsome” she dramatically sighed and gushed over her boys. They all rolled their eyes as they got ready to take pictures with their girl. The pictures were perfect and so cute, they would more than likely post them that night. 

“Okay, you guys go on here soon, get mic’d up, let's go” Their manager clapped, rushing everyone over to the mics, “I gotta go,” Ivy told them as they put their pic packs back in.

“Just a second Livvy” Hongjoong made her freeze. “Everyone ready?” He looked around, seeing all of them placing their earpieces around their neck. They nod and bundle up in a circle, wrapping their arms around each other as the staff flashes their lights and takes videos. The girl happily dances and jumps next to Mingi and Jongho. “Okay, let’s go out there, perform with our best. We got Ivy with us tonight, so we have to do our absolute best.” Hongjoong goes on with his usual speech and praises “Ivy?”

“Oh, uh, don’t fuck up, I love you guys”

The boys all protested against her ‘speech’ and laughed

“Okay, okay. Just perform like you guys always do, with or without me, I want you guys to do your best, and have so much fun out there.” Mingi smiles and kisses her forehead. 

“Okay, 1,2,3…”

“Nine makes one team!” As a full nine again.

“I love you guys,” she hugged them all individually “I’ll be out there, look for me” 

When she got to Mingi, he wasted no time in giving her a deep kiss, bending himself forward and her into a damn-near backbend. The boys cheered them on as she laughed into the kiss.

She was soon rushed out into the audience, bodyguards circling her, yelling at people to move out of the way. She reached the back of the pit where security and other staff stayed to make sure there were no audience members out of place. 

She smiled and waved at fans who saw her and cheered for her. 

The concert went on amazingly, Ivy sang along with every word. It didn’t take long for Mingi to find her first, after that all the boys would check on her at least 10 times each song. It soon got to that time when the boys all stand there and interact with the fans. 

“And tonight, we have the most special guest” Wooyoung yelled and the crowd screamed. At this point Ivy still didn’t change into her hoodie, the boy assumed she was fairly comfortable in that new jacket. She had her lightstick and phone in hand. The camera panned to her, showing her on the big screen as she laughed and waved at the boys. 

“IVY-AHHHH” San yelled and Yunho clapped with Hongjoong. “She looks amazing doesn’t she Atiny?” 

Ivy continued laughing and covering her face so she didn’t show off her blush. The fans screamed in agreement. “Ivy, I think we all have some things to say,” Hongjoong started “Should I go first? Anyone else wants to go?” 

Yunho and Yeosang shook their heads as the others gestured that he could go first. 

“Since Ivy first came to the company, I knew she was something so special. What I didn’t know were the amazing effects she has had on Ateez.” Atiny cheered after the translator spoke before he continued. “It’s incredible how much you have impacted so many people's life. You make Ateez special Jisoo-ah. And during this hiatus, it’s been hard on us, but we are so glad you took your time to heal. We love you, Ivy, and I think everyone can agree when I say we are glad to have you back home.” 

Ivy was tearing up, mouthing “I love you” to Hongjoong. 

Wooyoung nodded and brought his mic to his lip. Oh god, she thought to herself, this could either embarrass the living fuck out of her or make her bawl her eyes out. “I’m not sure if many people know, but Ivy and I used to not get along,” Ivy laughed at his start off “But now I would say we are the closest we have ever been. Through the years, I’ve got to learn so much about you. I know when you’re upset, happy, or mad. I’ve had the pleasure to watch how much you’ve grown over the years. And I just know how proud your family is of you. And I know you’re dad would be so beyond proud” Oh god, she’s crying. She misses her daddy, so dearly. She hopes he’s proud of her. “I wish you came to me. Or any of us when you were struggling,” now Wooyoung was crying “I love you Jisoo-ah, and I would do anything to see you happy and healthy all the time…” They both bawled as Yunho walked over to Wooyoung, hugging him. Mingi turned away from the crowd as he cried, Jongho tearing up in the corner. The fans all cried and called out. 

Seonghwa sniffed before he spoke up, “Being able to be someone you feel safe around has been such an honor. My number one goal is to always make sure my members are safe and happy, and sometimes, I feel like I fail at that. I know there’s only so much I can do Ivy, I know. Please call me more, please tell me when you need help. Come to me more often. I want to help Olivia. Please let me help” Seonghwa sobbed, begging. Ivy wanted nothing more than to run up on stage and hold every single one of them. 

Yeosang prepared himself for whatever words came out of his mouth when he spoke “I didn’t know you were hurting until it was too late. And, I can’t help but feel I could’ve done more for you. I can’t lose you Ivy-ah, none of us can. We love you, and it hurts going on stage and not having you here. I’m begging you to focus on yourself more.”

Between each speech was a moment of cries. Each member would take their time to prepare themselves, make sure they can say what they need. And a couple times they couldn’t. their speeches would fall short because they can’t say what they need to say like this.

San was next “Atiny and Ateez have been waiting for you, we will always wait for you. You always have support by your side at all times Livvy. We’ve been hoping that you recover well and on your own time, and your being here tonight shows us how well you have been doing. And now you’re home, and we can help you. And be up your butt 24/7” He ends his speech with a slight giggling, hoping to bring light to such an emotional moment. Ivy chuckled through her tears and shook her head. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, Ivy, but I had trouble sleeping last night because I was so excited to see you again. And I think I even texted you” Yunho laughed, tears streaming down “You’ve always supported us when we need you, you’ve always been here for us. You’re probably the most kind and most empathetic person any of us have ever met Jisoo-ah. And even in times when I didn’t think I needed support, you were still there, whether I wanted it or not, you were there. You’ve always been there. And I just can’t believe I let you struggle for so long. Ivy, you deserve everything good in the world. I wish I could just give you the earth” He smiles with the tears falling down his shirt. Jongho nodded to himself, knowing he had to go next. He didn’t have to, but he wanted to and needed to for himself and Ivy. 

“When I first met everyone I kind of felt like the odd one in the group. And then you came in and you had to feel like the odd one,” The crowd laughs along with Ivy as he continued “but I never really knew what it was like to be so close to someone. And ever since you joined our family, I never felt alone. I never felt like I didn’t fit in. You always made sure I got to bond with everyone, and that we made the steps we needed to take to be able to become a family. And now, I look at all of us, and, I can’t even imagine Ateez without Ivy. Ateez wouldn’t be Ateez without any of us, especially you.”

Jongho wasn’t the kind of guy to open up like this, and Ivy never knew these things, she never knew Jongho felt this way…

And finally, Mingi. Ivy couldn’t even prepare herself for Mingi’s speech… her chest tightened, and tears fell as she watched her boyfriend wipe his tears away. 

“Without you, I don’t think I would be the person I am now. Without you, Ateez wouldn’t be Ateez. I’ve always wanted to just feel loved and cared about. And being with you, it’s taught me so much about myself. I just- I can’t believe how far all of us have gone. I can’t believe this is my life. And it’s thanks to you Jisoo-ah. Watching you grow and become the woman you are, it’s incredible. And I always think about all the times we’ve stayed up later writing songs, or just talking because we couldn’t sleep. Our Facetime calls, our late night snack time. All of it is so special to me. I love you so much, Olivia. I’m nothing without you.” 

They all cried and hugged, wishing they could have Ivy up there, but they had to move on before things got caught up. The concert went on and ended after a few more songs. She would’ve loved to stay in the audience for the encore, but she had to run backstage before then so she didn’t get lost in a moving crowd. She ran through the halls once the manager told her they were out there, Mingi was of course the first she reached. He lifted her as she wrapped her legs around his. She cried into his shoulder, mumbling ‘I love you’s into his shirt. Mingi continued walking with her like that, rubbing her back before placing her on the ground once reaching the dressing room. The other boys all got to hug her and cry with her at last. 

She’s home. And they weren’t a complete home without her.

taglist: @atolua @skzfairies @itzy-eve @cixrosie @stopeatread @alixnsuperstxr @smh-anon @txt-yaomi @starmaniic

[venusgirltarot]

Although the pictures above are edited by me to fit a theme, the original pictures are not mine! All credit goes to the original owners!

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one, here!

Hello, lovely pile one! The last time you saw your person they may have confessed feelings for you or there was some sort of conversation between the two of you that took your connection with them to the next level. This could be someone you’ve had a crush on or been in the talking phase with for awhile and one of you made the first move and asked the other out on a date.

This has a very lovey honeymoon phase type of vibe. Before this conversation or offer, your person had a lot of anxiety and stress towards you and the connection you two have. Like a fear that they’ve been reading the situation wrong, the feelings are one sided, you don’t see them as anymore than a friend, etc. but this conversation the two of you had completely eliminated those fears for them.

There’s this fresh, vibrant and excited energy surrounding them. I heard “the stars shine brighter” almost like every part of life for them is more vibrant and meaningful now that they’ve made this next step with you. I keep getting a message about Mary Poppins? I keep getting an image from the beginning of the original movie where that guy is walking around the town and singing? (I’m sorry if that’s off, I haven’t watched that movie since I was a kid) this may resonate with some of you somehow (if it does, please let me know! I love hearing about how odd little messages like this resonate with you all!)

The people around your person may also notice that they’re happier. I heard “pep in their step” your person just comes off as so much lighter, happier and vibrant to those around them.

As for how this person felt the last time you saw each other:

When I was shuffling for this portion, I heard “giddy” and “blind hope” The last time you saw your person may have been in some sort of group setting or small gathering. They may have been jealous or upset about the lack of attention they were getting from you but I don’t think they made this known or told you about it. They may have seen you talking to someone else and they felt very jealous and this is what pushed them to have this conversation with you or ask you out (I keep hearing “blind hope” again) the way this person approached you or asked you out may have seemed abrupt to you but I don’t think you were upset about it, at all. In fact, I think you may have been waiting for this for awhile. This jealousy pushes them to make the first move and it’s not something thought out or planned and afterward, it feels like a weight lifted off their shoulders. There may be this mentality for them of like “I’ve been stressing about pile one and whether or not they have feelings for me for so long and I let it hold me back from asking them out but now that I have, I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner” it feels like the easiest thing they’ve ever done because your connection and conversations are just so effortless. The two of you mesh together really well.

They have this overall very giddy and excited energy but also more relaxed than they have been in a long time. They may be sleeping better now that they’ve asked you out. Truly, they were so worried about the feelings being one sided and you not wanting them that it kept them up at night. I just heard “I missed you so much”

I feel like I’m not supposed to say much more, I believe you’ll be going on a date with this person soon and I’m strongly feeling that I’m not supposed to give out too much information and to let you experience this for yourself and I would recommend you also do the same! Get to know this person through them themselves (so no social media stalking lol) and don’t obsess or stress about the connection too much! Let it flow effortlessly and enjoy this person and the time you spend with them! The feelings are most definitely mutual and there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Hello, Pile Twos!

The last time you saw your person could have been at some sort of charity event or work event. They were really excited to see you and really nervous, as well. They spent a lot of time looking at you. There was something about you that came off as very giving and mature. Everything about you seemed so effortless and elegant to them.

You could have also been around children. This person thinks you’re very good with children and have a very motherly/fatherly/parental vibe and they really like that about you. They may have seen a more intimate side to you or less professional side to you. Maybe you know them through work or something professional and when they last saw you, it was somewhere outside of work where you didn’t have to be as straight forward or professional.

You came off as very easy going and friendly to them. You know how to work a crowd and keep a conversation going. A lot of the time, your person just stood back in awe of you. You may have felt that they didn’t like you or something because they didn’t talk to you much or seem to be making an effort to be around you more but that’s not the case at all, they definitely noticed you. I heard “spent the whole night noticing you” I don’t get the vibe that they were too intimidated to talk to you or felt like they couldn’t, I think they just enjoyed seeing you socialize and just be yourself.

They really like getting to see you in a setting that’s very different from the kind of setting they usually see you in. They also thought you were very funny and easy going. I know I’ve said easy going before but it’s a message that keeps coming in frequently. Maybe you’re serious at work or wherever you usually see this person? There’s just something so different about you and the way you act here like more light and carefree, just enjoying yourself and not worrying about anything or stressing. Maybe you have a very stressful job? Or your job has been very stressful lately?

After this last interaction, your person saw you as someone very balanced. Grounded but carefree and kind of go with the flow, funny and outgoing but also serious and professional. I think this person is seeing more of you and your personality and they really like what they see. They want to know more about you, you definitely fascinate them.

This could be a very recent ex. The last time you saw them could have been when you were meeting up to give each other back all your old stuff or something or maybe you share custody of your children or a pet or something? The reason for the breakup could be due to infidelity. For some of you (especially if children are involved) your person could even still be in a relationship with the person they cheated on you with.

No matter the situation, your person felt very flustered around you. You came off as very self sufficient and happy, like you’re doing fine without this person in your life. Some of the cards you got were The Empress, The 10 of Cups and The Four of Wands. To them, it seems like luck is on your side and you’re doing just fine.

I heard “best you’ve ever been” I keep hearing a 5SOS song. I think it’s “Mood Swings” (I could definitely be wrong tho) but the lyric is “I can tell by the look in your eyes that you don’t wanna fight on a Friday night” and “I hope you don’t mind that I ruined our time” I’m getting very emotional and on the verge of tears rn so hearing this may be very emotional for you? If this is an ex, you may still have love for them and are fond of the memories you share with them but are also aware that they aren’t good for you and that you need to move forward without them or at the very least, without them playing the same role or taking up the same space in your life that they did previously. If no one else has told you, I want you to know that that is okay and I’m proud of you for knowing when a situation/person is no longer serving you and moving forward without them while still healing from that loss and hurt. Your feelings are valid and it’s okay to move on. The time you spent with this person was not time wasted and it’s okay to think back on it and appreciate it while still moving forward without this person.

Now, back to this person’s thoughts/feelings, they may have even expressed to you that they wanted to try again but if so, you turned them down (some of you may have told them you’d think about it and it’s not my place to tell you what you should/shouldn’t do and I can only see so much of this situation but I do want to tell you that just because someone wants you back, doesn’t mean you have to or should take them back. Always do what’s best for you and what will make you happiest but don’t feel like you have to do anything for anyone other than yourself.)

I’ll finish off by saying pretty much what I’ve been saying, this person sees you as an elevated person. Like someone that has gone through a post breakup sort of glow-up and is thriving on their own. You’re coming off to them as very successful and self sufficient. I heard “you’re absolutely glowing” you don’t need this person and it’s obvious to them. They may have even been a little jealous seeing you and knowing others would want you (I heard “why wouldn’t they”) you could definitely move on to someone else and have no problem doing it and that kind of drives this person insane. They’re feeling a lot of regret for their past actions and rethinking their decisions but that’s not on you at all.

I’m going to end the reading here because I feel it’s best for you to focus on yourself and not worry about this person. You’re doing so much better and are going to continue to get better with time. You shouldn’t have to worry about this person or their thoughts/feelings. Don’t let their energy hold you back or weigh you down. Do what’s best for you and what makes you happy!

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!

࿐ mara

[rose-in-a-fisted-glove]

Hi it’s the SU anon here I’m very sorry for how much I upset you, and I seriously wanted to piece tgt what I’m missing from the Jewish viewpoint so I appreciate u still being open to talking to me despite the ignorance. Also disclaimer I’m born and raised in Malaysia so I’ve not met an actual Jew in person until very recently in uni, so all I know is from the messy pile on the internet and I do genuinely learn from ur posts when I see them.

From what I see on ur blog u do show quite a lot of sympathy to the all the cruelty happening in Gaza, but don’t tolerate this being used as an excuse to target Israel/Jewish ppl. I do understand that the whole concept of pushing for an Israel/jewish ethnostate is very much entwined with the history of Jewish culture and the antisemitism endured through different times, so I think this is the part where I made the most ignorant statement on? After rereading what I wrote it might also have sounded like all Jews hold extremely reactionary views towards the word “ceasefire”? Pls do point out more of what upset u, I take full responsibility for what I said and pls stop this convo at any point if I end up offending u more.

Recognizing that you don't know something is the first step towards fixing it. It's good that you thought on your previous ask and tried to research it! But you're missing an awful lot so let's start from the top.

(As a reminder and so others can seee, here's the original ask)

"Hi, this a question abt ur opinion on what’s happening in Gaza just bc you’re one of my favourite blogs that goes deep into Jewish culture/issues. If at any point this question becomes annoying pls ignore.

Anyways so in my college SU meeting recently someone sent in a motion to make an official statement to condemn the war and call for immediate and permanent ceasefire + provide more support to the Jewish and Muslim/Arab students affected by increased hate in the community as well. This sparked a debate among those in attendance and of course there’s a few very pro-Israel voices that insists that a ceasefire will cause Israel to lose all ability to defend itself as well as many pro-Palestine arguments. The motion ended up discarded bc of procedural reasons but as someone who has mostly held a free Palestine view so far and has been hoping for a more inclusive Israel in the future, I don’t understand why stopping a war hurting both sides is taken as an Israel must disappear take by many. I always just accepted it as it’s probably got a lot more antisemitic undertone when it’s a Jew that hears it, but I really wanna hear ur take as well bc the debate I witnessed brought up very disturbing points that I can’t stop thinking about. Hope this didn’t end up sounding disrespectful and thanks for always sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues!"

First problem comes right with the opening sentence; "Hi, this a question abt ur opinion on what’s happening in Gaza just bc you’re one of my favourite blogs that goes deep into Jewish culture/issues."

Going to random Jews who do not post about the conflict and asking for their "stance" on it is part of a series of antisemitic loyalty tests and is extremely rude on top of it. Furthermore, speaking on Jewish cultures and issues and antisemitism is not the same as being experienced or knowledgeable on international conflicts.

And then your next paragraphs are of course riddled with anti-Israeli biases and examples that you've been listening to/reading propaganda uncritically, such as "wanting a more inclusive Israel" and in your more recent ask saying things like "I do understand that the whole concept of pushing for an Israel/jewish ethnostate is very much entwined with the history of Jewish culture and the antisemitism endured through different times". So you clearly have a basic lack of knowledge about both Israel and the conflict in general along with Zionism itself.

But, again, that's not an area I talk about much. If any of the folks who do talk about it, see this and want to go into it, please do! Just to repeat here, you shouldn't have been asking me in the first place.

Then, this part here, showed me that you have a history of dismissing antisemitism as Jews being overly sensitive "I always just accepted it as it’s probably got a lot more antisemitic undertone when it’s a Jew that hears it." And then that was compounded by your closing insult, "thanks for always sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues!"

And that closing insult told me that I had woefully failed in sharing any information about antisemitism at all. "Sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues". Jewish "viewpoints" and antisemitism are just as important as any other sort of bias. Pointing out antisemitism and sharing stories about antisemitism does not, and can not, undermine other social issues. It is not lesser. Honestly, I'm still kind of livid over that shot.