#everything gets a label (an excuse) and then nothing is done about it

[cultivating-wildflowers]

🌩

[vigilante-3073]

All Those Who Go Unnoticed

Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: Evan Buckley has always been left behind and forgotten about. What happens when someone finally decides to stay?

TW: Mentions of neglect and self-deprecating thoughts, angst, friends to lovers.

Evan Buckley was born to serve a purpose that he could not fulfill. His parents only had another child in a futile attempt to save his older brother Daniel. After his brother had passed away, Buck's parents treated him like he was a waste of space. Everything he did was wrong and he couldn't seem to ever find himself in their good graces.

Buck relied on his older sister Maddie for years until she eventually left him behind to start a life of her own. Buck left home as soon as he could, but struggled to find himself for years. He bounced between jobs in search of something that could make him feel like he mattered.

Everything fell into place when he decided to become a firefighter.

Buck loved his job at the 118, he saved lives everyday with some of the most amazing people he had ever met. He found a family that valued him and treated him how he deserved to be treated. Despite having everything he had spent his life searching for, Buck still felt like nothing he did was good enough.

He could have been smarter. He could have been faster. He could have done more.

Buck had never told anyone how critical he could be of himself. It was something that he always dealt with, definitely a mindset created by his parents.

Buck always felt like he had to prove himself and show everyone that he had value. It was a never-ending quest that weighed on him heavily.

Y/N had quickly become Buck's best friend when he joined the 118 all those years ago. She was a firefighter-paramedic and she was great at her job. Y/N never doubted herself and Buck admired her tenacity, especially when people challenged her in the field.

Y/N and Buck hardly went a day without seeing each other. He felt like his day wasn't complete until he talked to her.

They were the kind of friends that could have a 4-hour long video call while doing chores around the house or spend all day just chatting about nothing in particular. They knew everything there was to know about each other and seemed to share a brain at times.

Buck had never felt seen until he met Y/N.

Y/N always brought him into conversations or found her way over to him when she could tell he was pulling back. Y/N knew about how hard Buck could be on himself, she could tell when he was overthinking and was able to pull him out of that mindset.

"You need to be kinder to yourself, Buck," Y/N had told him one night when he was alone in the locker room after a rough shift.

"I'll try," He had replied.

Buck thought about that interaction quite often, he was always beating himself up for things he had little control over and it needed to end.

It was a hard cycle to break, but he was trying, and he was trying because of her.

...

Buck watched Y/N talk animatedly to Hen and Karen about a book they had all been reading. They laughed loudly at something she said before Hen began sharing her own thoughts on the book.

Y/N looked over, locking eyes with Buck from across the yard and sending him a small wave with a smile. He waved back, watching her as she returned to her conversation.

Bobby took a seat at the patio table beside Buck, "So, when are you gonna ask her out?" He questioned.

Buck's eyebrows raised, "Oh, no, I was just-," He started, "Save the excuse, I can tell that you like her as more than a friend," Bobby said with a knowing smile.

Buck looked down at the table with a sigh, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb nail, "She's way too good for me," Buck said.

"What makes you say that?" Bobby asked.

Buck shrugged, "She's amazing and I'm just me... I don't deserve her," He stated.

"Buck, you're a good guy but you need to know when to get out of your own way. Don't overthink it, just ask her out. I'm almost 100% sure she would say yes if you asked her out on a date," Bobby assured.

"Almost 100%?" Buck asked.

"99.9% sure," Bobby amended.

Buck looked over at her to find her making her way over to the cooler full of drinks. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to her.

"Hey," He greeted.

"Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna stop hiding away in the corner," Y/N teased.

"Can I ask you something?" Buck questioned, "Of course," Y/N replied.

"Um, you can totally tell me if I'm looking at this the wrong way, but is there something- I don't know... Is there something more than friendship between us?" He asked.

"Do you want there to be something more?" Y/N asked.

"I think I do," Buck answered hesitantly.

Relief washed over him when a smile broke out across her face, "I do too," She said.

"Oh my god, you have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now," Buck said, huffing out a soft laugh.

Y/N rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm, "You really weren't kidding. Do you need to sit down?" She asked.

"No, I'm good. I just- Will you go out on a date with me?" He questioned, resting his hand over her's on his chest.

"Of course I'll go out with you, Buck," Y/N replied.

...

Y/N and Buck had been dating for almost a year, she had moved into his apartment and everything seemed amazing. Buck still felt like he was waiting for the day she found someone better and left him in the dust, but she chose him each and every day.

Buck had never felt like the center of attention, he always went above and beyond to be noticed, but it was effortless with Y/N. Buck felt like he was being seen after a lifetime of feeling invisible and it was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't think of a way to repay Y/N for bringing him to life again.

Until he did.

He sat at a table in the busy coffee shop, a mug of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Buck felt jittery and he had yet to take a single sip of the hot beverage, instead choosing to watch the door closely. Buck straightened up in his seat as Maddie made her way into the establishment. She walked through the tables before sitting down in the chair across from him.

"Where's Y/N? Is she not coming?" Maddie asked.

"Um, no, actually. I kinda needed some time to talk to you... Alone," Buck said hesitantly, grimacing at his own awkwardness.

Maddie gasped, "Are you going to propose to Y/N?" She asked.

Buck's face fell, "How did you know that? I didn't even say anything yet," He questioned.

"I just knew," Maddie grinned, "Aw, Buck, this is so exciting!" She said.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now. I mean, with everything we've gone through this year, I don't want to spend anymore time not being together, y'know?" Buck questioned.

"I do," Maddie said.

"I think she's my person, Maddie," Buck admitted.

Maddie smiled, her eyes glossing over with happy tears, "She definitely is, Evan," She said.

"I was wondering if you had some time today to help me pick out a ring. I've looked around a little bit, but I'm kinda useless at this stuff," He said.

"Of course I'll help. Do you have any idea what kind of ring she may want?" Maddie asked.

"I think she likes the ones with the jewel that's shaped like an egg," Buck said slowly.

"This is going to be a very long and expensive day for you, little brother," Maddie sighed with a smile.

[cosmicalily]

"written by the aces" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

7. "going home" | kim seungmin x fem!reader

Fuck anyone who says they doubt you, I love everything about you, you know, even all of the the things you say you don’t like, nothing I don’t like. I love that you never pretend with me, even from the start you taught me to be, nothing but me

author's note: oh lovesick kim seungmin, you'll always be my weakness

warnings: seungmin has some implied insecurities (not discussed)

“What are we even here for?” Seungmin asked, feigning annoyance as you roamed aimlessly through the aisles of the supermarket.

“I don’t remember,” you replied, wandering into the haircare aisle.

Seungmin huffed, although you didn’t miss the soft smile on his lips before he did so. “That’s why I told you to write a list or something, baby, you always forget.”

When Seungmin had introduced you to his friends, they’d been expecting someone scholarly, quiet and well-organised; essentially, a second Seungmin. “Did you meet her in the library?” Hyunjin had teased. “No, in the stationary section looking at notebooks!” Jeongin had snorted.

However, when you proved to be almost as chaotic, if not more, than Han Jisung himself, they’d been surprised, albeit happily. You couldn’t be more different from Seungmin; you were very physically affectionate, and had no troubles expressing your emotions through words. You were forgetful, yet refused to take actions to prevent it. You were sporadic and inconsistent, planning things last minute and taking your boyfriend on adventures on a whim. It had taken Seungmin time to get used to you when you first met as friends, but he soon found himself drawn to your confidence and chaos. You were a bit all over the place, yes, but you were his, and you found he helped contain the unhelpful aspects of your personality, such as struggles to focus and just generally get shit done, whilst you brought out the louder, gigglier side of him. 

“Oh well,” you chuckled and shrugged, pulling out bottles of shampoo and examining the labels closely. “Ooh, this one’s on sale, Seung! Maybe I should try it, your big sister told me it was really good.”

Seungmin took the bottle out of your hand and placed it back on the shelf. “No,” he said stubbornly.

“Excuse me, Kim Seungmin?” You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms across your chest. “I think I’m allowed to select my own shampoo brand.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t smell the same, stupid. I like the one you use now. It’s nice.” He pulled you close and shoved his face into your hair to prove his point, and you giggled and smacked his arm lightly.

“What a sappy baby,” you tsked, pinching his cheek and grabbing two bottles of your usual shampoo and conditioner. 

“Is that everything?”

“I just want to look around, Seung, then I’ll remember,” you pushed the trolley happily, skipping a little.

“Baby, we’ve been looking around for like twenty minutes. It’s gonna get dark soon, and it’s already snowing outside.” Seungmin gestured out the big windows, where flecks of snow drifted through the wind, dusting the cars parked outside, including yours, like icing sugar.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you huffed, picking up your two bottles and returning your trolley, and he shook his head. You squealed as he scooped you up, staggering along to the cashier. 

He deposited you, paid for your items, then ran outside, almost slipping on the icy tarmac. 

“It’s so pretty,” you gasped, squeaking as a snowflake landed on your nose and another melted down your cheek. “It’s very cold, though. Can we get inside, Seung?”

He nodded and opened the car, and you bundled yourself into the passenger seat, shivering as he turned the heater on.

“Dramatic, much,” he chuckled fondly, starting the engine. 

“Shut up, I’m so cold,” you hissed through your teeth, blowing on your hands. “Hey, stop that, turn the car off.”

“That’ll turn the heater off,” Seungmin stated.

“I don’t care.”

“Where the fuck is your logic, baby?” Seungmin laughed.

You shook your head and dragged yourself over the console, planting yourself onto his lap. His cheeks flushed a little and he took the keys out, his arms moving to your waist automatically.

“You’re really warm, Seung,” you mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re always so warm, like, you just make me feel so cosy and soft and fluffy and gross.”

“Gross? Excuse me?”

“In a good way. I feel so sappy and lovey-dovey when I’m with you. I disgust myself. If I saw a couple acting like this in public, I’d be like, ew, that’s so weird, but I love acting like that with you. It doesn’t feel cliche or weird. It feels right.”

“Oh, baby.”

“Shush. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Seungmin lifted your head off his shoulder. “You already are, idiot.”

You slapped his cheek lightly. “Fuck off. It’s your turn to be overly sappy with your feelings now, Seung.”

Seungmin took a deep breath. “When I first got with you, all the guys were so surprised, because you’re so different to me. And when they were surprised, it made me nervous, because I trust them so much, though you better not tell them that, or they won’t shut up about it. Then Chan told me he hadn’t seen me act so carefree, so happy around anyone like this in a long, long time. He said he thought you were so good for me, you brought out parts of me he missed seeing.”

You stared into his eyes, biting back a smile.

“And it’s true. I’ve never really felt this happy around anyone before. I worry less, and when I worry, it's less about myself. Because I know you don’t care about the things I worry about myself; like my appearance, or my personality. You just love me. And I’ve never been loved like that before.”

“You went way sappier than I did, loverboy,” you giggled, but pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you so much, and it makes me happy that I make you as happy as you make me. You’re mine, yeah, Seung?”

“Always,” Seungmin pressed his nose to yours, then wrapped his arms around you tighter.

You sat, in the front seat of your car, in the supermarket parking lot, bodies entwined.

Sure, you should be getting home, but you weren’t in a rush. 

Wherever he was, he was your home.

[mrpenguinpants]

Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Meet Me at the Bar

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 8: Miscommunication. I got stuck on this one, but I'm finishing the list, one by one.

"I hope you get over that quickly."

That was it. A simple sentence that blew up their friendship. Eddie never told Steve that they were done, but he could feel the coldness, the growing distance between them. They acted civil for the sake of their friends when they met, but there were no more late talks over beers, no Eddie barging in at various times during the night to complain about his life in Hawkins, his job in a garage, his future, and of course, his love life.

It was the latter that caused the rift, and Steve never really understood what he did wrong. They were sitting together as usual, chatting about how everything everywhere sucked, how customers are the worst people to ever exist, and then suddenly Eddie's tone changed. He admitted to Steve that one of the reasons why he hated Hawkins was that he couldn't be himself, not as he is. That he had a coworker at the garage, slightly older than him, and he'd been developing a crush on him for the last few months. That was how he fully admitted to himself he was gay.

He tried to give it time and space, but given that Eddie's brain was always speeding five miles ahead of his good judgment, he tried to raise the issue. Gently. Inconspicously.

Which ended up in a full blown proposal and even more full blown rejection, nearly bordering on violent.

That is how Eddie ended up on Steve's couch and with majority of Steve's alcohol in his system. Steve had already expressed to Steve that nothing is going to change between them, that the guy sucked for reacting that way. And then he told Eddie - "I hope you get over that quickly." He hated seeing Eddie so dejected.

There must have been something to his words that Eddie understood differently. He froze in his alcohol haze, blinked several times - were those tears? But before Steve could check, Eddie excused himself, and no matter what Steve said, he wouldn't talk about anything past "it's too late" and "I need to sleep it off, I feel like a walking brewery."

Just like that, their friendship was gone.

Eddie soon moved away, and Steve? Steve slowly watched everyone who he loved abandon him. He waited in Hawkins until it was nothing but old memories and empty streets, and then he decided - why not. He'd held the fort for long enough.

He packed his bags and moved to Indianapolis the following week.

Steve often thought about his friendship with Eddie, about how he missed his wild smile, his constant stream of trivia and outrageous ideas. It was only when he saw what life could have been in Indy, stolen glances and hidden kisses in dark alleys, that he realized - huh. Maybe we were similar.

Steve found a bar to…explore. He didn't want to admit or label anything yet, he just went there to see if he was right. The same evening, he was pressed against a dirty wall, felt the stubble against his chin as he was being kissed with more passion he'd ever felt in his life. Yep, definitely similar.

He didn't look for anything serious, not yet anyway. Finding out who he was, that was scary. But sharing his whole life with a stranger, letting them into his home, his heart? That was way scarier. He liked what he had - going for a drink once or twice a week, a quick makeout session, maybe a bit more if he was lucky. It was all fine.

At least until the day when a painfully familiar figure sat himself down next to Steve at the bar. "Well well well. King Steve, in such an establishment? Color me shocked."

Steve opened his mouth and wanted to say so many things. Something like, I missed you, I'm sorry for whatever I did, are you safe? But they all froze on his tongue when he saw Eddie's face. It wasn't playful or happy. It was just bitter.

"Hi Eddie," he said weakly. "Didn't know you came around here."

Eddie didn't even spare him a look, he just waved at the bartender and ordered a drink. "Oh, I don't. I mean, I frequent another one, you know. Closed for some dumb reason, so here I am. I'm surprised to see you here though - isn't it just a tad hypocritical?"

"It's…what?"

"You know," he drawled out and finally turned to meet Steve's eyes. Steve'd never felt so hated in his life. "After that all "I hope you get over it" thing?"

Steve almost choked on his beer. "How the fuck is it hypocritical to wish for your friend to get over a heartbreak?"

"Oh, is that what it was?" Eddie's voice could cut steel. "Because it sounded a bit more like "phew, he got rejected, now let's go back to pretending you're straight for everyone's convenience". Because that's the best option, right?"

Steve drew a shaky breath and finally set his beer glass down. He took in Eddie's angry eyes, his trembling voice. This wouldn't do.

He reached for Eddie's hands, refusing to get deterred by his flinch. He grasped both of them and leaned close to Eddie. "Eddie. Man, I don't understand why you'd think that, but if I made you feel like that, then I'm sorry. Really. Even if you find it hard to believe me, that's all it was - we were drunk, you were telling me about this asshole who threatened you over you liking him, and I was just thinking - I hope Eddie gets over it soon, because he's my friend and he's great. And he deserves someone who loves him unconditionally."

Eddie didn't look so angry anymore. His hands grew still in Steve's and his eyes seemed glassy. Steve wanted to reach out and catch all the tears before they fell. "Steve, I…shit, I really thought-"

"It's okay. It's fine, because I got to tell you in the end. I hoped you'd get over it - so that someone better could have you."

"Someone like you?" Eddie laughed, phrased it as a joke, but it really wasn't. Not to Steve.

He smiled at Eddie and wiped away the rogue tear. "I wish. Back then, I still didn't know. Or maybe I did, but couldn't really admit it, you know? Everything around me was changing so fast and I didn't feel ready to do the same. But I think it was always you who made me wonder. Who made me think that being different wasn't so bad. But even if it couldn't be me, I wanted you to be loved and cherished, like you deserved." After a brief eh, fuck it moment, he added, "And now it can be me. If that means anything." 

Eddie finally found back his voice. Clearing his throat, he squeezed Steve's hand back and straightened his back. "Before I say anything more stupid, just answer me this one thing, Harrington - are you as painfully single as little old me?"

Steve laughed so hard he thought he cracked a rib for a second. "Agonizingly so."

Eddie batted his eyelashes at Steve, doing a very poor impression of one of Steve's many conquests back in Hawkins. "Oooh, big words. I like that in a man." Then, in his normal voice: "That's all I wanted to know. Buy me a drink, Harrington? We have a lot of catching up to do."

Steve had never reached for his wallet so fast in his life. 

Something shifted between them. It still wasn't okay, they had a lot of talking to do, but it was a start. A new beginning. And for that moment, it was enough.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

This is a really specific request so it's absolutely fine if you don't feel comfortable doing it but protective Liam standing up for his autistic gf to her dad or older man family member who keeps being willfully ignorant and making comments

Support||Liam Lawson x fem!autistic!reader

Word count—769

Liam’s patience finally snapped as the older man—her father—leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. The latest comment had been the tipping point.

“I just don’t get why everything has to be so complicated with you,” her father said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You make a big deal out of nothing, and it’s like… people walk on eggshells around you. Life doesn’t work like that.”

Liam glanced at his girlfriend, who sat rigidly beside him. Her eyes were fixed on her lap, her fingers twisting anxiously around the hem of her shirt. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to shrink into herself, and it made his blood boil.

“Enough,” Liam said, his voice firm and steady.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said enough,” Liam repeated, standing. “This isn’t okay. And it hasn’t been okay for a long time.”

Her father leaned forward, clearly affronted. “Listen, young man—”

“No, you listen,” Liam cut him off, his tone sharp but controlled. “I’ve sat here all night listening to you talk down to her, dismiss her feelings, and act like her autism is some kind of inconvenience for you. And I’m done with it.”

Her father blinked, clearly unused to being challenged. “I’m not being dismissive. I’m just saying she makes things harder than they need to be. Back in my day, people didn’t have all these labels. We just got on with life.”

Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. And how’s that working out for you? Ignoring reality doesn’t make it go away. It just makes you blind to it. Autism isn’t a ‘label.’ It’s part of who she is. And what you call ‘making things harder’ is just her trying to exist in a world that wasn’t built for people like her.”

“She’s fine,” her father said dismissively. “She just needs to toughen up.”

Liam’s voice rose, his frustration spilling out. “She’s already tougher than you’ll ever understand! Do you have any idea how much courage it takes for her to face people like you every day? To advocate for herself when people constantly dismiss her? You’re supposed to be her family. You’re supposed to support her. And instead, you make her feel small.”

“Liam…” his girlfriend murmured, tugging at his arm. Her voice was quiet, but there was a waver in it that broke his heart.

He turned to her, his expression softening. “No, you don’t deserve this,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been putting up with this for too long, and it’s not fair to you.”

Her father threw up his hands. “Oh, come on. I’m her father. I know her better than you do. She’s just being dramatic.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, and he turned back to the older man. “You don’t know her better than she knows herself. And if you think this is ‘dramatic,’ then you haven’t been paying attention. She’s told you what she needs. She’s told you how to support her. And every time, you’ve ignored it. Do you have any idea how much that hurts her? How much that undermines her?”

Her father opened his mouth, but Liam didn’t let him speak. “You think you’re the authority on her life because you’re her dad? You’re not. She is. And it’s about time you started listening to her instead of dismissing everything she says. Because if you keep this up, you’re going to lose her.”

The words hit like a hammer, and her father’s bravado faltered. For a moment, he looked genuinely unsure of himself.

“She’s not asking for anything unreasonable,” Liam continued, his voice quieter now but still firm. “She just wants to be understood. Respected. Loved for who she is, not who you think she should be. That’s not coddling. That’s what family is supposed to do.”

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of his girlfriend taking a shaky breath. She looked up at Liam, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Liam turned back to her father, his tone softening just slightly. “You still have a chance to fix this. But it starts with you admitting that you’ve been wrong. And it starts with you trying. Really trying.”

Her father looked down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. For the first time that evening, he seemed to be grappling with Liam’s words.

Liam reached for his girlfriend’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You’re not alone in this,” he said to her softly, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not anymore.”

[insidekatmind]

I'm sorry~ Pope heyward

Warning: +18,smut, english is not my first language

"Are you listening to yourself? Do you realize what you've done, Topper? You almost killed Pope, for what? Why is he a Pogue? Is that really your excuse?" I said angrily, looking at Topper

"Oh, come on, don't be moral now. Pope knew what he was getting himself into. And besides... he's just another Pogue. Like the others." He said contemptuously.

Here you were arguing with Topper because he almost killed him just because he stole Rafael's gun to defend himself from them.

"Are you serious? It's a human life, Topper, not a label to run from! Pope isn't just a Pogue, he's a person, like you, like me!" You say, raising your voice

"A person? No, Pope is just a loser who always meddles in things that don't concern him. Don't you realize he's just dead weight? As disgusting as all the Pogues." He snorts irritably.

Topper wasn't understanding why you were defending that pogue.

"Disgusting? I find it disgusting the way you talk about him. Is this what you really are, Topper? Someone who enjoys endangering the lives of others for a stupid class struggle?" You said walking closer to him

Topper laughs bitterly and continues talking "Oh, sure, I'm the bad guy now. But you know what? You don't understand because you're not one of us, and you probably never will be."

You look him straight in the eyes, angrily "Maybe you're right, and fortunately! If being one of you means treating people like rejects, I'd a thousand times rather be a Pogue. At least they know what it means to have respect."

Topper shrugs, pretending nothing happens. “Respect? You know what gets respect in this world? Nothing. Look at the Pogues… they're just losers, all of them. And Pope is just another example.”

"You know what, Topper? I feel sorry for you. I don't care if you're a Kook or something, because in the end… when you treat people like that, you're no better than anyone."

"Think of it however you want. But don't come to me when Pope does some other stupid thing. When he gets into trouble and no one is there to save him." Topper said angrily and walked away while you could feel your blood boiling as you watched your boyfriend walk away.

And there you were riding Pope's cock on the couch at the Cameron house. It was the classic party that the kooks had every late summer and the pogues were working. But you couldn't help but at least feel sorry for Pope for what had happened with Topper. So with an excuse I took him away from the table where he was working and took him into the living room and locked the door and looked at him.

Pope looks at you carefully feeling confused he didn't know if he should be worried or excited.

“Y/n” Pope asks you as he saw you getting closer to him

“Pope… I wanted to apologize for how my asshole boyfriend Topper acted. I know it probably doesn't change much, but… I'm really sorry for everything you've been through.” You told him as you placed your hand on his arm caressing it.

Pope looks at me confused, but with a small smile "Hey, you don't have to apologize... it wasn't your fault. But thanks, it means a lot."

You began to move your hand up onto his shoulder. “No, Pope, let me do something more… at least to make you understand that I'm really sorry" I push him gently onto the sofa. He looks surprised, but doesn't pull away. You could hear his heart pounding as I sit astride him. of him and I get closer, looking him in the eyes.

“Y/n don’t-” he was continuing his sentence but you put your finger over his mouth as you looked at him.

I touched his face and then you came closer, giving him a slow, deep kiss, as if wanting to convey all the warmth you felt for him.

You whisper against his lips "You know, Pope.. I don't think I've ever told you how sorry I was."

Pope looks at you with a little surprised eyes, but smiles, breathing faster "Well.. you're really good at making me understand now."

You smile and kiss him again, this time with more passion, feeling the heat grow between you. Your hands slide slowly over his chest, and without stopping kissing him, you begin to open the buttons of his shirt one by one, letting your hand slide over his skin.

Pope looks at me, almost speechless: "I... I didn't think that..." you interrupt him again, but this time with another kiss, smiling "Shh.. let me show you how much I care about you, Pope. " You told him and he nodded.

He gave you a hand while you took off his jeans and boxers and then took off your dress and left a kiss on your neck. “Anyway, you look gorgeous in this dress,” he told you softly and you smiled, feeling the cheeks of your face heat up.

You turned and kissed him again while Pope placed his hand delicately on his hips while you took his hands and moved them to your ass and he squeezed it making you grind against him and you both moaned.

“Y/n” he whispered as you were carrying him back to the couch and he saw that you were taking off your panty. You looked at him and smiled seeing the desire he held for you.

Pope could never think that his dream was coming true: you a kook, his always forbidden dream, you kissed him and now you will fuck together.

You smiled as you saw his big cock getting harder and harder and started climbing up his legs as you rubbed your entrance with his big cock as lube. You both moaned at the contact and you screamed as you pushed his big cock inside your pussy. He closed his eyes at the amazing sensation as he tried not to go crazy feeling how your pussy was squeezing him.

You began to gently move up and down on his cock as you were kissing his neck while marking him and Pope felt like he was in heaven. “If it's a dream don't wake me up” he said and you smiled softly bringing your mouth close to his ear.

“It's not a dream Pope, it's real and your cock is making me feel so good” you told him moaning as you rolled his hips on him and Pope groaned “fuck you're so tight” he told you moaning as your pussy she was squeezing his cock.

“Just for you Pope, you're fucking me so good” you told him as you placed your hands on his shoulders increasing your movement and dug your nails into your shoulders when his cock hit your g-spot.

“Shit” you said and Pope groaned increasing his thrusts. In the room you could hear the sound of your skin colliding, your kisses and your moans.

“So good” Pope said moaning and lowering his head feeling how your walls were squeezing his cock tighter and you nodded unable to form a coherent word.

"You're so big" you said moaning as you felt your orgasm was close. Pope moaned and increased his thrusts and placed his hands on your hips squeezing them to fuck you while you moaned and came while he continued to slam his cock against you controlling even your movements as he came inside you and you both moaned.

He stopped his hips but didn't remove himself into you as you rested your head on his shoulder as you stroked his hair and he was gently stroking your side as you both were trying to catch your breath.

“Apology accepted,” he told you between breaths and you smiled, kissing him again and he kissed you back.

Just as things were heating up you heard a knock. "Pope are you here?" It was his friends jj, John b and Kiara who were worried about him since they hadn't seen him for a long time.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Right, so, I've been seeing some persistent misconceptions in fanfiction where a character has ADHD. I'm a man of color with ADHD and I want to clear some things up. This is specifically about how people tend to write Ed Teach, but it can apply to other characters you're writing with ADHD. And I'd love if other people with ADHD, especially other people of color with ADHD, have any additions to tack on!

These things are NOT what ADHD is.

ADHD does not make you "stupid." This whole thing was inspired because I just read a fic where Ed cites his ADHD as evidence he's "dumber" than the other characters (and this was supported by the writing in the story). There is no correlation between ADHD and intelligence, and we know that Ed is a genius!

ADHD does not automatically mean that someone can't finish school or can't succeed in demanding academic fields. I'm working on my PhD. It just means your character needs coping skills.

ADHD does not mean that someone will "hyperfixate" on or suddenly lose interest in relationships, whether romantic or platonic.

ADHD doesn't mean your character struggles with personal hygeine or keeping their home clean. Please stop making me read fics that characterize a man of color as dirty or incapable of keeping his home clean and excusing it because "he has ADHD!"

ADHD doesn't mean that your character will need someone to look after or supervise everything they do. Ed does not need a White man to take care of him or make sure his work gets done.

ADHD doesn't mean a character will be unable to sit still, focus, stay on-task, or sit in silence 100% of the time. We all have different tolerance levels and those can change depending on current circumstances.

Here are some more realistic, interesting ways ADHD can impact successful, smart characters of color, like Ed.

He might feel the need to be hypercompetent, all the time.

He might get frustrated with himself. ADHD can be frustrating! You can be on top of things 99% of the time at work and school, and have people look up to you, and then you'll realize that you've been forgetting to book that doctor's appointment for six months straight now and you'll feel like a failure.

He might overcorrect symptoms. For example, he might have trouble keeping a neat, organized space and know that messes stress him out, so he overcorrects by being a bit of a neat freak and avoiding mess wherever possible so his space never becomes unmanageable.

He might struggle with The Evil Boredom. That's when you feel super understimulated and nothing is enough to help.

He might have trouble sitting still or saying quiet when he's nervous, feeling strong emotions, or in a boring environment or trying to do a boring task (the scene where Ed struggled with being still and quiet while fishing, while also feeling strong emotions of guilt, was super relatable).

I like to write AuDHD characters (with both autism and ADHD), and it can add a fun new dimension! I personally headcanon Ed as AuDHD. When you have both, symptoms can be frustrating because they can feel contradictory (for example, my autism demands I keep a neat, tidy space and I like routines, but my ADHD means I have trouble keeping things tidy to my standards and routines are super boring).

And finally but crucially: it's obviously okay to headcanon a character as ADHD or with any other neurodivergence when you're White. However, it's important to remember that the experience of neurodivergence looks different for people of color. Boys of color with ADHD, for example, are often overdiagnosed with ODD and labelled as "defiant" or "uncooperative." I often avoid telling White friends and coworkers that I'm AuDHD because it tends to make them infantalize me, as if I haven't already proven to them I'm a capable adult. People of color often have to go undiagnosed or without appropriate medications (if needed) and/or are misdiagnosed. If you're writing about a chracter of color with ADHD, I really recommend finding a sensitivity reader.

[moon-and2saturn]

Antithesis

j.t.k x reader & j.m.k. x reader

part I

summary: You’ve been going out with Josh for a few months now, but his twin brother still hasn’t warmed up to you. Despite your efforts, Jake can’t stand you and he makes sure to tell you every chance he gets. Finally, one night it seems like you’re about to get some answers, but the truth is a lot more complicated than you ever could have hoped.

word count: 4k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! swearing, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), drinking, kissing, sexually implicit language, heavy petting, cheating *kind of* SMUT: semi-public sex, fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, praise kink if you squint

listen to the official playlist on Spotify here

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“Baby, you almost ready to go?” Josh pokes his head into the threshold of the bathroom from your bedroom with a soft smile.

“Oh, yeah, just another minute,” you reply, putting on the finishing touches of your mascara before turning toward him and slinging your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in.

“You look breathtaking, as always,” he says with a smirk.

You and Josh have been going out casually for about six months now, but it never got to be very serious. You went on a few dates and had some heated nights together, but his band started its newest tour a month after you met, so the time that you’ve spent together since then has been sparse.

You first met Josh one night while out with your friends at your local bar. You’d gone to get yourself and the other girls another round when you saw him sitting there at the bar next to you. Almost immediately, his honeyed words and sweet smile drew you in. He told the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, you took the drinks to your friends, then you sat down next to him and the two of you got comfortable rather quickly.

You took him home with you that night and you couldn’t seem to forget him after, no matter how hard you tried. He was handsome, sweet, and ridiculously good in bed. You’ve had your fair share of flings over the years, but nothing could compare to him. As you fell asleep that night with his arm draped over your torso, you knew you were done for. Living in Nashville your whole life, you always vowed to never date a musician. You knew that they were wild and unreliable, but damn, this one just trapped you.

Soon after, he embarked on the band’s world tour. You didn’t always hear from him that often, but you never expected to. He called you after a show every once in a while, usually half-drunk and looking for some relief after a stressful day, missing you. You miss him too while he’s gone, but you’re still trying to avoid getting too attached to the idea of him being yours. You knew that he’d eventually get tired of you or find someone else while on the road. But despite never putting a label on it, he’s remained loyal, which surprised you.

After getting home from the European leg of his tour, he invited you to go with him as his date to a Christmas party at his brother’s house. Events like this made you nervous, considering the complicated nature of your relationship, but you could never really find it in you to say no to him. You’re feeling reluctant to go to this party in particular though, and not for the usual reason.

Josh’s twin brother, Jake, hates you. Yes, hate is a strong word, but you are convinced that he absolutely loathes you. You still haven’t been able to figure out why, no matter how hard you tried. You haven’t encountered him that many times, but all of the times you’ve seen him, he would never lay off you. He would question everything you said, scoff at your remarks, and you even caught him glaring once or twice from across the room when he thought you weren’t looking.

After every time, you would ask Josh about it and he would make excuse after excuse. “Oh, I’m sure he’s just having a tough day,” or “Maybe he just misheard you,” or “He’s probably just feeling a bit protective of me.” Whatever the reasons were, you had no interest in entertaining it.

The two of you aren’t even that serious, so you feel no desire to impress his brother. Besides, his younger brother Sam and their best friend and bandmate Danny have both taken quite a liking for you. Screw Jake, you didn’t need his approval anyway. So why were you nervous to go to his house?

You snap out of your daydream and come back to reality, looking up at Josh with a smile. “Thank you, baby. You look quite dashing yourself, you know.”

You’d decided to wear a midi-length black dress with a high slit, pairing it with a pair of black heels. You opted for simple makeup and added red lipstick for the season. It was a simple look, but elegant for a Christmas party. Josh was wearing a pair of khaki pants with a white pullover sweater, adorned with his favorite symbol, and some tan winter boots. His cheeks were rosy from the cold weather, a perfect canvas for the little white dots that decorated his cheekbones. They’re lifted slightly as he smiles at your compliment, revealing a toothy grin.

“You’re an angel. Shall we?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“We shall.”

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You both pull into Jake’s driveway and when you notice the lack of cars in front of the house, it becomes clear to you that you’ve arrived early. Great.

Josh turns the car off and gets out to round the car and open your door for you. You smile timidly at him as he takes your hand and helps you out of the car, then laces his fingers with yours and walks you to the porch.

“I promise, you’ll have a great time. Trust me,” he assures you as he knocks a few times on the large mahogany door. Much to your delight, it’s not Jake who opens the door, but Sam.

“Hey guys! Thank god you’re here. Jake thinks he’s running behind so he’s become so insufferable. Come on,” he says, clearly exasperated by his older brother already. The two of you follow Sam into the kitchen where you find Danny standing at the kitchen island, plating an array of cookies and appetizers.

“Oh, hey Josh. Y/N,” he says with a soft smile, then goes back to his task. You turn to your right to see Jake standing at the oven, hastily taking out a roast and placing it on top of the stove with a sigh. When he hears Daniel’s greeting, he turns his head and captures your gaze. You watch his eyes droop a bit as he turns back around, removes his oven mitts, and approaches you.

“Hello, brother. Nice of you to finally join us,” Jake mutters sarcastically, reaching over to grip Josh’s arm and giving it a light smack before turning to you. “Was this one holding you back? Probably takes hours to get ready, doesn’t she?” he jokes, stepping toward you to pull you into a one-armed hug, which is surely a formality. “To no avail, it seems,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, so quietly that only you can hear.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes as he pulls away, and turns around to head back to the oven. He speaks to you both as he walks away, facing away from you. “Would you both prepare the bar? All the booze is out in the garage, I’d like it in here.” Josh looks over at you apologetically then answers, “Yeah, Jake. We’ll go get it.” He takes your hand in his once again and you both walk back to the foyer to step out and grab the drinks.

Josh puts in the code and the garage door slowly rises, revealing the large pile of alcohol on the side wall. As you go to grab a few grocery bags of liquor bottles, Josh takes a pack of beer in each hand, opting to take the heavier stuff.

“I’m sorry about him. That’s just how he is, you know? He’ll warm up to you,” he says, looking at you and trying to gauge your reaction.

“How long does it take to warm up to a person? We’ve been seeing each other since June, Josh. Sam and Danny don’t seem to have any issues with me. So why him?” you ask, feeling frustrated.

Josh lets out a heavy sigh, looking at you with softened eyes. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m sure he has his reasons. He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. I’ve known him since the womb and I still can’t always figure him out.”

“Well, it’s making me crazy,” you pout. He puts the cases of beer down and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. Just ignore him for tonight, okay? I just wanna have a nice night with my girl…” he says, placing his hand on your chin to tilt it up to meet your eyes.

“Fine… but you owe me,” you tease with a smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your while, darling, trust me on that,” he replies with a smirk, biting his lip. He leans down to capture your lips in his for a moment, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. His other hand which was once planted on your waist moves down to grip your bare thigh, exposed by the long slit in your dress. You sigh against his lips as his grip on your thigh tightens, pulling away from him slowly.

“We should get back…” you whisper. “Sorry, I’m just insatiable for you,” he says with a wink before reaching down to grab the beer and turning to walk out of the garage. You quickly follow, pressing the button the shut the door and then returning inside Jake’s house.

When you and Josh return inside, Jake has finished cooking and went upstairs to change into his party attire. The two of you stand around the kitchen island with Sam and Danny, chatting for a while as you wait for Jake to return downstairs in time for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You hear footsteps down the stairs and turn your attention to see Jake waltz back into the room. He’s put on a black button-down shirt, only fastening a few of the buttons on the bottom, leaving his bare chest exposed. An array of silver necklaces sits upon his exposed chest, the coins attached to the chains lying just right against his smooth skin. His wavy brown hair rests almost perfectly on his shoulders, which you notice has grown quite a bit since the last time you saw him. You think for a moment that it suits him, but you quickly shake that thought out of your head.

He’s wearing a pair of simple black dress pants with matching black ankle-length boots, seemingly leather. And of course, he could not go without his dark sunglasses, despite it being nighttime… and winter. Arrogant asshole.

Through the lenses, you panic as you see his eyes find yours. A smirk forms on his face as he finally approaches, and you already know that he’s about to piss you off.

“Didn’t anyone teach you that it’s impolite to stare, sunshine?” Jake says proudly, leaning against the kitchen island awaiting your response.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you scoff, standing up from your seat in the kitchen to go to the bar and make yourself a drink. Your cheeks flush as your back is turned to the rest of the group and you try to shake off the sudden feeling of embarrassment as you reach down to pour some tequila into your glass, topping it off with soda water.

Convinced that your face has finally returned to its natural color, you walk back to the kitchen, retrieve some ice from the freezer, and add it to your glass. You return to the island and stand behind where Josh is seated, placing your hand on his back and rubbing it slightly.

They’re caught up in a conversation regarding their time in the studio a few days back, but your eyes meet Jake’s once again. He takes a sip of his glass of neat whiskey, which he’s seemingly already poured for himself, not taking his eyes off of yours for a second.

What the hell is his problem? It can never just be a simple night, can it? Before you have the chance to question him, the doorbell rings and Jake retreats to open the door and greet his new guests. Perhaps you can catch him later to question him, but for now, you plan to just have a good time.

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The night has gone smoothly so far, despite your concerns. Jake’s stayed out of your way, spending most of the time speaking with some record executives in the living area by the record player, attending to the music once the record ends every once and a while.

You’ve stayed by Josh’s side all evening, standing by the bar talking to Sam and Danny. You’ve already had three tequila sodas in and are luckily feeling much more relaxed. Not only that, but about three drinks in is usually when you start to crave a cigarette or two. So, you excuse yourself from the group and retreat to Jake’s back porch, stopping in the foyer quickly to grab your coat.

You slink out of the back door and sit down on the porch swing, pulling out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a black lighter. The porch is lit dimly by a string of lights, extending from the porch to the small garden next to it. The ground is laid with a thin layer of snow, probably only about an inch or two, and the pine trees in his backyard also have little blankets of snow resting upon them. It’s quiet, almost too quiet.

Then, as if the universe heard your thoughts, you hear the door open from your right. Much to your dismay, it’s Jake who walks out of the house onto the porch, with a joint already hanging out of his mouth as his eyes meet yours. He removes his sunglasses and his lips turn upward slightly as he walks over to sit next to you on the swing. You sigh quietly as you put your cigarettes back into your pocket, picking up on his hint and opting to smoke with him instead. What did you have to lose?

You reach up with your lighter still in your hand, lighting the joint between his lips for him. His eyes burn through yours as he inhales for a few moments before removing it from his mouth and blowing the smoke out to the side.

“Needed a break from the festivities, sunshine?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk, offering you a hit. You take it willingly, taking a drag and shaking your head.

“Not necessarily. It’s just about that time of night when I’d want a smoke,” you answer candidly, shrugging a bit before passing the joint back to him.

“Didn’t want your boyfriend to come with you?” he teases, taking a long drag. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back onto the back of the swing as he hands you the joint back and you take another hit.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And no, I just wanted to have a few minutes alone. You can see how well that worked out,” you say, taking one more hit before giving it back. He just looks at you for a moment with a puzzled look on his face, which soon turns back into a smirk.

“Well, who am I to let a lady sit out in the cold by herself?” he says, turning his body toward you more on the seat. His left arm moves to rest on the back of the seat, with his hand gripping the seat behind your head. You’re suddenly very thankful for the dim lighting, which you hope is successfully hiding the newfound pink tint of your cheeks from the proximity.

“What a gentleman,” you say sarcastically, taking a drag of the joint and crossing your legs as you turn your body toward him to mirror him. He takes it from your fingers and puts it out in the ashtray on the table in front of you, then sits back in his original position. The slit on your left leg causes your legs to become much more exposed to the cold, causing you to pull your coat over your legs slightly. To your surprise, Jake moves his right hand from his lap and slides it slowly to rest on your exposed knee, underneath your coat.

“You are cold, I can feel it,” he mutters, moving to sit a bit closer to you, looking down at your knee and then back up to meet your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a confused look, searching his eyes for any hint of what he’s thinking. You’ve never been this close to him before and for some reason, your immediate reaction wasn’t to pull away.

“I’m warming you up, sunshine…” he answers, his gaze still not breaking away from yours as he moves his hand from your knee to your outer thigh, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Jake, why do you call me that? I don’t get it,” you ask, hoping to finally get some answers about how he feels about you. Now was as good a time as ever. His lips turn up into a cocky smile, even showing a hint of teeth as he formulates a reply.

“Because you light up the sky, Y/N… and I shouldn’t look at you, or else I’ll go blind,” he finally answers, stroking your thigh again with a bit more force this time, causing you to take a deep breath and swallow harshly. “I shouldn’t touch you, or else I’ll get burned.”

Your eyes soften as you look back at him, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s trying to say. Before you have a chance to question him further, he continues.

“So, if I shouldn’t look at you… or touch you… then why do I still desire to?” he says inquisitively, gazing down at your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. "Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight… For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light… Perhaps my own desire will be my downfall, hm?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you gaze up at him in shock. “Jake… what are you saying? I thought you hated me…” you say, in almost a whisper now.

“Sunshine, I’ve never hated you,” he answers, moving his hand slightly further up your exposed thigh. “I’ve just been resisting the light… but I’m not afraid to get burned anymore.” Oh. Your mind is spinning, from the combination of alcohol, weed, and hushed confessions.

Before you have the chance to tell yourself that you should take some time to think about this, your body acts without your permission and your lips crash against his. Immediately his hand snakes into your hair on the back of your neck, pulling you into him as his other hand continues to grip your thigh. Both of your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, tugging on it lightly, eliciting a groan from him into your mouth.

He pulls away from you for a moment as he moves his hand toward the inside of your thigh, inching closer to your already aching core. “Can I?...” he asks, and you nod feverishly. His lips find your neck as you lean your head back against the back of the seat, his fingers snaking slowly up the inside of your thigh.

His fingers find the black lace covering your lower lips, which is already soaked through from all the buildup. You feel him smirk against the skin of your neck as he feels the slick between your legs and then moves the fabric to the side. He runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness before sliding one finger inside of you, causing you to gasp quietly.

His thumb rubs small, quick circles around your clit as he moves his pointer finger in and out of you, then inserts a second finger along with it. “Fuck, sunshine, so tight for me. Bet that feels so good, huh? Did you need it bad?” he whispers against your neck, laying wet kisses down to your collarbone. “God, yes, so good. Needed it so bad, Jake,” you mutter, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips and hands on you.

“God’s not here. There’s only me,” he says, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, curling them upward to hit that special spot far back. You feel how close you are now, barely holding on. Your hand is gripping his shoulder hard, your nails digging into him through his shirt.

“That’s it, baby, come on. I know how bad you want it,” he says, kissing his way back up your neck to your chin. “Want you to come all over my fingers while my brother waits for you inside. Bet you look so gorgeous when you come. C’mon, make those pretty sounds for me, sunshine.” You whine, probably a bit louder than you should have, as his fingers finally coax your orgasm out of you. Jake’s lips find yours to muffle the sound of your cries as he works you through it, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you come down from the high.

He pulls away from you, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth, sucking your release off of them with a low groan. His left hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer to him, leaving only a few inches of room between you.

“So fucking perfect for me… Looks like my wings are melting, love. Too late to turn back now,” he says, his eyes glued to yours. “No regrets?”

“No regrets,” you answer, resting your forehead against his, taking a deep breath before pulling away and standing up, walking back toward the door. You turn around for a moment, meeting his gaze and looking at him softly, before heading back inside to find Josh.

You find Josh in the kitchen, standing at the island with Sam. “Hey, baby, I was wondering where you went,” he says, snaking his arm around you.

“Oh, yeah sorry. I just went out for a smoke and got distracted,” you answer with a soft smile.

“Are you tired? We can head out if you want, I’m sure Jake won’t mind,” he asks with a smile. You nod and turn to see Jake walk through the front door; you guess that he went around to the front of the house to not raise any suspicion. Smart.

You both say your goodbyes to everyone before walking to the foyer, leaving Jake for last. Josh hugs his brother and pats his shoulder, then grabs his keys and walks out the front door.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you whisper timidly, looking up at him.

“G’night, sunshine…” he says with a wink, stroking your cheek lightly as you smile at him, then back away and walk past him out the door. Your cheeks are flush as you walk out to Josh’s car, getting in and buckling your seatbelt before he drives off.

“Did you have a good time, sweetheart?” Josh asks, looking over at you for a moment as he drives.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” you answer, looking out the window.

You try to think over tonight’s events as you drive down the long and winding road toward your house. Never did you expect Jake to act that way toward you. You had been convinced that he hated you, but all this time he was just… afraid of his desire for you? It still didn’t make sense to you, but you’re fearful of the feelings that your encounter with Jake has brought to light.

He was so different from Josh, in every way. While Josh was sweet, Jake was assertive. While Josh was desirable, Jake was seductive. It was like he cast some sort of spell on you. Jake is the antithesis of Josh. And for some reason, that intrigues you. But now what? Now that you’ve entertained Jake, there’s no way that either of you will be able to resist the temptation of having each other again. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

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read part two here

Leave a reply or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist! And as always, let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter!

Our dear reader has a lot of decisions she has to make now, doesn't she? I guess we'll find out in the next chapter ;) see you then

Taglist:

@itsafullmoon @vanfleeter @klarxtr @itsdannysworld @lipstickitty @peaceloveunitygvf @wildmoonworld @ignite-my-fire

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 5

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending.

1934, soon after Tommy's' battle had ended. Three more Shelby's' dead, and one less evil he had to worry about right now. His second wife, Lizzy Stark, was nowhere to be seen and was never found. Neither was his son, Charles. After the alleged affair with Diana Mosley, she left Tommy behind. As he did with the rest of his family.

So, where was he now?

Ireland. Finding himself knocking at the door of the home he knew she resided in. The sun was barely breaking through the forever gloom of the grey clouds, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he turns around, looking at the green grassy hill, cattle grazing the lawns minding their own.

"Who are you?" The voice came from behind him. Tommy moved his body, eyes snapping down in front of him to see a young girl. Around the age of four or five, standing in the threshold of the doorway. Her head was slightly tilted, as she peered up at him with her big eyes. Tommy tried to find the words, as he was speechless. She looked almost identical to Charles.

"I...I am um..." He began to speak, but footsteps cut him off and made him look up again. The front door was pulled open.

And then she appeared. His last breath got caught in his throat when his eyes fell on her. She looked even more beautiful than the day he saw her. The day she left and the day he found her, all those months later. Seeing her up close again, made him feel like he was frozen. His mind was buzzing with a myriad of questions, apologies, excuses. She wore a house dress, her hair was pulled into a bun, pieces of hair framing her slim face.

"[Name]," Tommy said. His voice made her eyes quickly snap up from the young girl to him. She froze for a moment as she saw who was waiting for her. She never thought she would see THE Thomas Shelby...ever again. Everything else seemed to disappear when she locked eyes with him.

"Mummy...who is this?" The girl pulled on her mothers dress, breaking the silence.

[Name] managed to break her eyes away first to see her daughter, Maeve, looking between the two adults in confusion.

"Darling...this is an old friend...Tommy Shelby,"

Old Friend was an odd way to put it. Knowing they were nowhere near that title, it made Tommy chuckle a bit. But the label would do for now. The young girl nods once and smiled up at the tall man.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby," Maeve spoke before turning to her mother.

"You as well, darling," Tommy managed a small smile. [Name] cleared her throat and kneeled down a bit to talk to Maeve.

"Maeve, can you be a big girl and go check on Cian for me? make sure he's still asleep," She suggested, knowing that she didn't want the children to be around while she talked with Tommy. The girl nods with determination, exiting the area and down the hall. [Name] takes a deep breath and moves away from the door.

"Come in,"

The inside of the Byrne estate was large, clean, and full of light. Nothing compared to what Tommy had at Arrow house, but it somehow had the same comfort. The two sat across from each other at the dining table. Tommy would tell it was well crafted and made from the hands of the Tall brunette man he saw before. Neither Tommy nor [name] knew what to say to each other. It felt like hours had passed as they were locked in each others gaze.

"You found me..." She stated.

"I did...I came looking for you, everywhere...Turing to every connection I had...I had to find you [name], " He answered her, not bothered how desperate he sounded.

Because deep down he knew he was.

"Why now?" She questioned. "After all these years,"

"I wanted to apologize, for everything I had done and put you through...I'm sorry for lying, for the things that I left out, for leaving you...everything. You deserved to know, more than anyone," Thomas answered, his words rang in your ears, holding as much sincerity as they can.

The woman across from him nods, her face didn't change as she stared at him. Her glaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips to the worn hands he placed on the table.

"I had wished you well and vouched to never lay my eyes on you again, yet here you are apologizing to me again...You sure made a name for yourself Tommy," She commented, a small smile forming on her face. She couldn't lie, she was proud of him. "It wasn't uncommon around here, my late husband would speak of it every now and then, I would have to pretend like I didn't know who you were,"

"Late husband?...my condolences,"

[Name] nods once and held her hand up for a moment to stop him from going on further.

"He passed just last year, consumption...Maeve was only four and Cian was barely a year," She informed him, a lump caught in her throat and a gloss in her eyes. A knowing look formed on Tommy's features, he would know all about loss.

Greta, Grace, John, Polly, and Ruby.

"Do you have anyone for yourself now?" She asked, changing her subject.

"I did...remember Lizzie Stark?"

[Name] nods, and refrained from rolling her eyes. After she had exposed Tommy for who he really was, she found out about his secret relationship with his assistant. Leaving her spiraling under the realization that again, he chose another woman that wasn't her.

"We got married and had a daughter, Ruby...she's gone now, also consumption, after everything had happened, Lizzie took Charles and left,"

Silence had fallen between them, but it wasn't daunting...it was comfortable. She didn't know what else to say...what else could she really say? She looked at the dining table, her nail slightly digging into its' surface while Thomas held his gaze on her for a moment, admiring her beauty and how, even now, she still looked as youthful as ever. He ultimately made the decision to break the silence between them.

"I don't want to waste any more of your time...Just know what I am still sorry," He said to her, shifting as he felt the heartbreak hit him and standing from the dining table. She said nothing as she heard his chair scrape against the floor, and his footsteps leading him to the foyer. An inch away from grabbing the door handle before he caught her voice calling for him.

"Tommy wait!"

He quickly turned around. Their hearts pounding as she stood in front of him. She looked like she wanted to spill something to him. Tell him everything that she had held away. Her eyes searched his until he asked a simple: 'what is it?' in a breathy tone. Her lips quivered as she tried to find the words. For once, she was speechless in front of him.

"Maeve...she's not..." [name] started. She took a deep breath and Thomas found himself holding her shaking hands in his. She swallows and nods once as he looks into her eyes. 'Breathe'.

"My husband, Andrew, he didn't know...For Christ sake I tried to keep it from him all these years and after he passed, I feel guilty even now...but, Maeve she's not his...she's yours Tommy," Tears pricked her eyes. Tommy stared with wide eyes. He couldn't question her, the time added up, he saw what her late husband looked like and he saw what her daughter looked like. He could recognize those ice-like eyes anywhere. Licking his dry lips, he sighs heavily.

"I know..." He mumbled. "I could see the Shelby resemblance in her when I saw her...I didn't want to believe it at first...but after looking at her again, I saw it,"

She wanted to call an objection to his words but decided to keep her mouth shut, knowing that the Shelby's liked to keep their pride.

Even if it was an exaggeration.

Silence fell between them once again. Tommy steps closer, grabbing one of [names] hands. His hands were ice hold and hers were warm like the flames that roared in the fireplace.

"I'd like to see you again, [Name]" He told her, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

"There is a lot of catching up that we need to do...," She looked down at their intertwined hands. Thomas reaches for the woman's other hand. His gaze softened as he drew in closer, her lids closed slowly as his cold, cracked lips connected with her soft and plump lips. Her heart ignited, that small flame that slowly gave out when her husband passed suddenly blew up. Except this time, it was a different type of love. This version of Thomas Shelby was...new.

The woman tried to keep calm as the gangster pulled away from the kiss, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop once he got started.

"Very well then," Giddy on the inside as she kept her smile small.

"I'll see you tomorrow," He told her calmly, one hand rubbing up and down her arm before he took his leave.

The days and weeks to come, Tommy got along well with Maeve. The more the two got along, the more [Name] saw the resemblance. Cian was more attached to his mother by the hip, usually shadowing her until he was familiar enough with Thomas's presence. With the two in bed together one night, [Name] lifts her head as she felt Thomas digging through his nightstand.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously as she tried to look in the drawer as well. Thomas held the object in his hand, closing his hand into a fist as he laid back down and looked at his beautiful girl.

"I found this, a few months ago...before I came to see you," He started. "Everything else was destroyed, but I kept this because I knew I would find you again one day, and give it to you..."

"Come on, Tommy what is it?" She asked, sitting up on her knees, trying to reach for his hand. He pulled his hand away and gave her a look. 'Wait' It said.

"No matter what happened between us, I knew I would come back to you, even after all these years...all of this pain...it has always been you...I'm so sorry it took me all this time to realize it," He told her. He grabbed her hand with his free hand and slipped the gold ring on her finger. It still fight like a glove, maybe even more-so now. In awe, she watched as he slipped the ring on her finger. It was cold on her warm skin, causing goosebumps to form on her arms.

"Thomas...?" She gasped. Looking at him, then at the ring, then at him again as her eyes were wide, tears forming in her eyes.

"[Name]…will you do me the honor of marrying me?" He asked. It made her think back to their childhood and that promise they made for each other.

"Oh Thomas...yes," She nods happily. Not hesitating to jump into his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"I've loved you from the start,"

---

[Tag List]

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96 @bruher @galactict3a @soulmates8 @angelofdarkness2468

[rockingrobin69]

Trouble

“Malfoy.”

With that smile and that hair and that smile. Coming in hot with two plastic cups, one held out like a shield.  Draco was in trouble. “For you. Should still be hot, I hope.”

“What…” warily crossing his arms.

“It’s coffee. Pumpkin spice, two sugars. You seem like you’re ready to scream, and I know you can’t survive without your daily dosage.”

Potter’s eyes were so wide. So Potter, so green. Distracting and terrible. Did Draco mention that smile? The hesitant line, thin and curved deep. “My daily dosage?”

“You normally drink at least four. Only saw you with three today, so I thought…”

Was he blushing? Honestly. Trying to destroy Draco good and proper. “You… I’m sorry. I must be mistaken, but it sounds as though you count the number of coffees I have a day. Which, I know is mad. Seeing as you work in an entirely different department, and—and that it’d be mad.”

“It’s not like that,” Potter said, eyes wide with terror, so green, so fuck, “we do share a kitchenette, so… it’s not that mad. I don’t go out of my way to… c’mon, Malfoy. We notice each other. You know that.”

Notice each other. What a nice, neat, insufficient label. How very Potter of him to under-verbalise years of animosity, then of resignation, then a budding working relationship, then—apparently, this. Bringing each other coffee in the middle of the day. Oh, fuck, was it really five? He was so behind on those files.

“I—” looked up and gulped a little miserably. Potter was very close and very, well, himself. “Thank you. For the coffee. But I really must get on with all this.” Gesturing flatly at the desk laden with paperwork. “Bloody Robards and his,” swallowed the rest. Really unprofessional and also, also, just, maybe shut up? Thank you.

“Yeah, fuck him,” Potter grinned. The whole thing was entirely nonsensical. Draco’s mouth didn’t get the memo and was stretching into a strange kind of grimace, pointy-upwards. “D’you need a hand?”

“A hand?” eyebrow rising helplessly. “You want to help me with paperwork?”

“Why not?”

Eyebrow rising higher. “You. Want to help me. With paperwork.”

“If it’d get you out of here faster—”

“We don’t even work in the same department,” so wildly out of his element he was shouting. Swallowed, swallowed, tried to ignore how handsome Potter was even when his face turned into this, imploring thing. “What? I don’t—what is even. Is this some sort of a joke?”

His mouth opened into a horrified ‘O’. “No! Not a joke. I really just wanted to help.”

Draco closed his eyes, prayed for some guidance. Had his little crush been so obvious that even Potter had to take pity? “I don’t need your help,” he said, as crisply as he possibly could.

“I know that. I just, er, suppose I wanted an excuse to come talk to you?”

“An excuse to come—” stopped, the mocking tone turning into something softer and a hell of a lot more confused. “An excuse to come talk to me?”

“Plus, you really needed your coffee fix.” With that devastating grin. “Come on, drink it up, and we can talk about all the rest later.”

“The rest?” his heart fluttered quite madly in his chest, insistent and inexplicable, like Potter’s gentle nod.

“Yeah. Get everything you need sorted, and maybe I could walk you to the train station when you’re done? So we could. Erm. Talk.” His lips were even more kissable when he pouted.

Draco agreed before he realised, before the words fully sunk in. “All right. We could… yes. Thank you.” Nothing made sense, aside perhaps for the look on Potter’s face, the amusement that became familiar, and a little spark Draco wasn’t brave enough to name. His eyes, gorgeous, his smile, worse, slightly more confident now and just as destructive.

“I’ll give you half an hour,” graciously. “There’s a café not too far from here. On the way to the station. Maybe we could…”

“Yes, yes, just, go, Potter,” running a hand over his eyes, trying for stable, coming up short.

“Malfoy,” he winked.

Draco was in trouble.

Oh, well.

(Flufftober day 20. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[hughiecampbelle]

Decomposing (Will Graham Oneshot)

Character/s: Will, Jack mention

Word Count: 1,449

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: My loves!!! This is the first fic of the writing event and I couldn't be happier with how it turned out!! Truthfully I had this idea even before the event lol, so I'm really glad I was able to share!! I love complicated relationships and issues within them. I had this scheduled for tomorrow, but ya gurl has no patience, so it's a day early! I would appreciate any and all feedback as this event progresses! Lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list as well!!! ❤❤❤❤

WRITING EVENT 🔪🩸

Fresh. Fresh wounds, fresh blood, fresh body, fresh relationship. Things are new. Awkward, fumbling hands unbuttoning his shirt, lifting it over his head. He does the same, your arms raised to ease the transition. A laugh, shy and blushing. In bed, between the sheets, trying to catch your breath. Was it. . . okay? A smile. Yes, of course it was. A nod, a performance of understanding. Little left to say. In the morning coffee, eggs. That’s all there is in the fridge. There’s no label, no pet names you call one another. There’s a line you refuse to cross. Bodies panting, laughing, but that’s all it is. Picking your clothes off the floor, disappearing into the shower. He heads downstairs. The dogs eager to greet him. You find him at the stove, the egg crackling in the pan. The steam of the mugs warm your face. Unsure of which seat to take. You’ve never done this before. You followed a pattern. Slipping from his bed before the sun rose. Leaving a note, something witty, without sincerity, closing the door behind you. Go home. Shower. Change. Running late. Find him in the lab with you co-workers. Bodies on slabs. What's left of them, anyways. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t look at any of you. Offering a quiet moment, the rest of the team filing out the door, he ways, slipping a note into your lab coat pocket. You don’t react. Your eyes averted, too busy listening to Jack to notice until the end of the day. Something sweet. You know his handwriting even without his signature. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t smile at the thought of him. Hoping he’ll look at you, even for a second. It’s against the rules. It’s against everything. And yet. . . 

Bloat. The body swells, the gasses of the abdomen created by bacteria. The skin begins to blister. You crossed the line. An unspeakable, invisible line you step over not without hesitation. Not just sex. The last note he left you, sleeping on your desk, folded with your name on it. Will you go on a date with me? Nothing else. You hold it in your hand, reading it over and over again, wondering if it was a joke. No, you conclude, Will wouldn’t do that. Humiliate you. You wait for him in the parking lot, the note burning a hole in your pocket. You don’t know what you’re going to say until the words are already out of your mouth. Does Friday night work? He isn’t perplexed by lack of context. There are no formalities or small talk. He smiles. Says it’s great, that he’ll pick you up around seven. You don’t realize you’re grinning until you pull into the driveway. Your entire closet is thrown across your bed. What message are you trying to convey? That this is a one time thing? That it’s serious from the start? You don’t want to scare him away. You don’t want to get your hopes up. You’re not even sure you want this to turn into anything. Maybe you should have said no. come up with a lame excuse long enough to buy you some time. Let him down gently. Explain this relationship was purely sexual. It isn’t against the rules. No one can stop this date on a technicality. But there are social norms to uphold. If anyone hears about it, if anyone saw you talking, you knew you’d hear about it for a long time. Katz would be cool, kind even, rooting you on. Zeller and Price are a different story. Crude jokes most likely, then invasive questions, vulgar assumptions the both of you would try to deny. Was it really worth the risk? 

Active decay. Teeth and nails begin to fall out. Muscles and soft tissue begin to liquify, oozing from the body. He asked you to move in with him. It only made sense. Your lease was up soon and you’ve been official for nearly a year. You spent every night you could with him, too.. You don’t mind the dogs? Others would. The smell when they come in from the rain. Collecting them from the woods, the land, when he sleepwalks, the front door like a gaping mouth. Wide open. I adore them, Will. And you do. Spoiling them with toys and treats. Relief settles over his features. Bring what will fit. Clothes mostly, kitchen appliances and some furniture. He unpacks with precision. Labeling every box. Moving from room to room until your books and his and intertwined, your mugs nestled between his, your clothes folded beside his. It only takes a weekend. When it’s done there’s an air of relief. Not just practical, but a bandaid. Stitches for a wound that won’t stop bleeding. Things weren’t perfect, but what relationship was? Jack knows. You told him together. His face is hard to read, his words unemotional. Don’t let it interfere with your work. Of course, sir. Will squeezes your hand under the table. It went better than you expected. Later, when he can pull you aside, he asks what’s been on his mind. Is it serious? You’re not sure how to answer. At the time, it had only been a few months. You hoped it was. He must’ve said something to him, too. Unusually quiet. Hey, you say, it’ll be okay. He nods. It doesn’t stop the inevitable fight. Jack doesn’t think you’re good for Will. A distraction. A plaything. Do you really believe him? Hurt embedded in your voice. I don’t know. He sounds so small. Later, he will apologize. You will forgive, but not forget. 

Advanced decay. Soft tissue decomposes, leaving behind bones, hair, cartilage, ligaments, and byproducts. This is when the bugs begin to feed. You’re not on speaking terms. The team divides and conquers. Katz talks to him. She’s always liked him, checked in with him, puncturing the layers you have worked tirelessly to unfold. Price and Zeller talk to you as delicately as they are able to. Is the sex bad? It’s not worth the effort to answer. Seriously, what’s wrong? What did he do? Are we children of divorce now? You glare at them, the conversation dying. Its final breaths a bloody, gurgled gasp. You regret coming in together. The car ride home is silent. Between here and there, each of you opens your mouths, but nothing comes out. Apologies feel forced. Fake. The issues so tangled, so complicated, you are both the victim and the offender. You go to bed with a gap between you, a rift you’re not sure can be repaired. Things will get better, Katz offered quietly, as if speaking to the enemy. You thank her, though you’re not sure how it will. Time goes on. You can’t live like this and so, you cave in. your conversations are distant, polite, but nothing further. In front of others you are fine. They assume this fight – immortal, infinite – has passed. It hasn’t. He’s become sloppy. He blames you. You can’t shake that kind of thing when your lives are your careers. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. . . 

Skeletonization. The body fully liquifies and the bones are exposed. Your things are no longer contaminated. Your books, your mugs, your furniture. Placed peacefully into boxes. You sleep alone these days. It was awkward, at first. Exchanging looks, pleasantries, trying not to have an audience for a show you didn’t realize you were performing. I’m sorry to hear that, Jack states when you break the news. The team, your team, are apologetic, too. It’s over. It’s done. You want to move on. You don’t. The both of you regret a lot of things. Whose fault was it? Yours for saying yes. His for asking in the first place. Maybe it started before that. The coffee you shared, the eggs he made, the steam of the shower. Broke routine. Price and Zeller lay off you for a while. Him, too. They joke about the dead rather than the living. Give it a few weeks, they’ll be back to their usual selves. Will’s right. You smile despite yourself. It could have been good. Your relationship could have survived. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when he is funny, when he is gentle, when is humane. It was already dead, another part of you speaks up, and you know it is right. You could crack its chest and break its ribs, but there was no saving it. There was no bringing it back because there was no life in the first place. Did you love him? Hannibal asks. You did, maybe you still do, but it’s not enough. It never was.

[ilikekidsshows]

I'm just so annoyed that one can't even voice their frustrations with Canon anymore without being written off as a salter. Especially when it comes to Marinette. But at the same time, I know exactly that if anyone had said earlier that Marinette would pull all these things that season 4 and 5 have her do, the person would have been insulted and ripped apart as a salter and hater. But the moment Canon has Marinette actually DO it her fans turn around and claim that her having done it is either totally fine, not her fault, or must be tolerated cause it's part of the good and pure messages "they totally predicted this way all along with their totally unbiased Master-minds"

It is so obvious that this is what's happening in the Fandom. In season 4, everyone yelled that people are being too harsh on poor Marinette cause season 5 will totally have her fix for example her insanely negligent, dehumanizing, and self centered behavior towards Cat Noir

And yet, the moment season 5 showed that non of that will happen, they turn around and started talking about these hypocritical nonsense philosophies that it's totally fine that feeling sorry, taking accountability and improving one's shortcomings doesn't actually include feeling sorry, taking accountability and improving one's real shortcomings, cause poor Marinette needs to have servants and be pampered for her hurtful behavior, validated and excused in it, and crowned the queen of the world first and "you just hate WOMEN wah wah wah".

That they totally understand how canon works and Marinette will TOTALLY have this groundbreaking journey til season 10, and everyone is so unfair and horrible for being sexist and having expected so much of her as early as THE END OF SEASON 5. Whne she straight up isn't doing her best to make up for her mistakes, she barely even tries and instead sweeps everything under the rug, takes every excuse she gets and continues taking advantage of Cat Noir in particular so she doesn't have to feel uncomfortable for 10 damn seconds

Where was that energy in season 4, Marinette stans? You said something entirely else back then! What changed? The fact that canon didn't deliver on your endless excuses for Marinette, so you decided to continue adapting your excuses to whatever Canon has her do? Sounds about right.

I wished Marinette stans and even just her Fans would do us all a solid and just admit already that the morality of Marinette's canon actions and behavior doesn't truly matter to them. There is literally nothing they wouldn't excuse that much is obvious by now. No matter how much they themselves qualified her current behavior as "offensive salt" one damn season earlier.

---

I did comment at one point that Miraculous was starting to resemble a saltfic when it started lifting plotpoints straight from them (like Adrien apologizing for his really solid advice that instantly helped Marinette in Chameleon). But now it seems that canon has also lifted Marinette's new role from saltfics, except that the people she disregards haven't done any of the stuff they do in saltfics that makes them “deserve” Marinette's retribution. Unless Adrien totally did rip Marinette's sketchbook and I just missed it.

But, yeah, it's absolutely ridiculous that, if we traveled back in time a couple of years and simply described to people what happens in seasons 4 and 5, we’d get labeled a bunch of salters. Even now they call us salters just because we don't praise Marinette for doing this stuff, like it's our fault the main heroine of this series is an utter failure who never worked up the courage to ask the guy she likes out and whose response to being told her nemesis’ identity was to ignore it until he jumped her when she was digging for info on her boyfriend. And then she lost the fight. Marinette had two jobs as a protagonist, and she failed at them both. That’s not the fault of the fans who are disappointed by this; it’s the fault of the writers who think doing what will get them the most attention is more important than having their supposed role model, hero and protagonist actually accomplish anything on her own merit.

Because the writers claim that they had this “planned all along”, when they had a French historical hero walk on screen and call Marinette the best Ladybug ever, while they were planning on having her fail at accomplishing all of her goals. I used to think that the writers think Marinette should be praised for simply existing, but no, they think she should be praised for explicitly failing. And pointing out this utter failure of writing and heroism is salt. That's how low the fans of this trainwreck have brought the bar for what they consider good television, it's practically nonexistent.

[asahicore]

treasure reaction :: when their crush kisses them randomly!

pairing. ot12 idol!treasure x reader genre. tooth-rotting fluff and that's it word count. 6.3k a/n. i had gotten a request for this on my previous blog and had only posted the hyung and middle line parts, so this is a repost with the maknae line included as well <3 i had so much fun writing this and i can't wait to write more fluffy headcannons like this in the future.. also some of these are wayyy longer than others don't mind me i got carried away lmao and if u read one of these and think it'd be a good long fic then let me know i'd be more happy to write them out in more detail ok hehe enjoy and don't forget to reblog and lmk what u think please !!!!! xxxx

HYUNSUK. whenever you were around, this man became even more of a giggly mess than he already was. you’d clicked as soon as you’d met and lately, you’d been hanging out more and more, never getting bored of each other but not quite ready to put a label on your relationship just yet. this particular day, you were hanging out at his studio - his flattering excuse to hang out had been that he needed inspiration for his next song and your presence would give him just that. he’d been working on his song for about five minutes when he turned to you, saying he was unable to concentrate with you around. clearly, he hadn’t tried to keep the charade up for long. you told him you’d try to be as undistracting as possible but he shook his head and said he wanted to spend time with you anyway. and that’s how you found yourself engaged in an aegyo battle with hyunsuk, the goal being to make the other cringe as much as possible. you realized right there how whipped you must’ve been for him, considering his aegyo didn’t make you cringe at all, but rather made him all the more endearing to you. so much adoration for him washed over you that, without thinking, you placed your palms on the sides of his face and pressed a kiss to the top of nose. you quickly pulled away, both of your faces turning a deep shade of red as realization of what you’d just done dawned on you. after three seconds of looking stunned, he fell into an umpteenth burst of giggles and asked with a grin, “what was that, y/n?”. you hid your face in your hands and mumbled that it was nothing. “just ignore it,” you said. “i don’t think i want to ignore it,” he said, a smile still playing on his lips, but the lightheartedness of his tone did nothing to hide the meaning behind his words. you felt your breath hitch in your throat as his eyes drifted down from your eyes to your lips, and this, ladies, gentlemen and non-binaries, is how you had your first kiss with choi hyunsuk.

JIHOON. treasure finally had a day off and jihoon had insisted on taking you out for a shopping date. (when he’d called it that, his usual confident facade had crumbled just a bit and his cheeks had reddened as he finally fully admitted to his intentions with you.) you’d told him to spend the day relaxing at the dorms or with his family, but he’d been adamant on taking you out, promising he’d pay for everything and anything you wanted as a thank you for waiting so long to hang out with him. he took you to a shopping mall in the fancy part of seoul and you had one of the best lunches of your life there - you weren’t sure if the food was just that amazing, or if it was because the boy you were with made everything a thousand times better. after that, you’d strolled from boutique to boutique, you too shy to ask for anything, but him making up for that by constantly handing you a bunch of clothes for you to try on. you grew more and more confident as you tried more outfits on, pretending the changing rooms were your personal runway as jihoon clapped for the outfits he particularly liked - although he found you so pretty, you could wear the most disgusting piece of clothing on earth, he’d still think you were incredibly beautiful. by the end of the day, you had a wardrobe full of new amazing outfits, and you wondered how jihoon still had a cent left in his bank account. you insisted on paying for coffee as if that changed anything, and he’d said it wasn’t necessary but he found it endearing how resolute you were about getting him that latte. as you waited in line to order, you noticed how he was carrying all of your bags without a single complaint, and you were just so grateful for him in that moment that you leaned in and pressed a peck to his cheek, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you pulled away. as soon as he’d felt your lips, his heart had started beating like crazy, but he didn’t want to lose his cool in front of you so he simply looked down at you and said, “i should take you out more often if this is how you’ll thank me.” let’s just say you went on many, many more dates after that.

YOSHI. after not seeing you for a few weeks, yoshi missed you more than he wanted to admit (even though he’d tell anyone who’d listen just how much he missed you). you knew he was busy with comeback preparations and told him you could wait, but one afternoon, he decided to sneak out of practice, knowing he’d get told off by his leaders and managers but missing you too much to care. he made sure you were actually free that day and told you to meet at your favorite hang-out spot, an underground arcade and food court. his heart was pounding at the idea of seeing you again after such a long time, and when his eyes finally found you, arms crossed as you waited for him at the entrance of the building, a huge grin spread onto his face. you could tell something was different by the way he hugged you when he got to your level - the hug was a bit longer, a bit tighter than usual, and you felt your heart swell when you realized that maybe, just maybe, he liked you the same way you liked him. you pulled away after a few seconds, his arms still around you as you smiled at each other. you did all the things you usually did: compete on the dance game machines (he always won) and on the car racing machines (you always won), then tried to win the other a stuffed toy from the claw machines (neither of you ever did), then ate an unhealthy amount of french fries as you sipped on a strawberry milkshake and he on a vanilla one, even though you always stole a bit from each other, and both ended up with a strawberry-vanilla shake. everything you did was the same as usual - but it felt different. his eyes lingered on your face, his hands found a way to sneak themselves around your waist. when you decided to take a few pictures at the photobooth, he insisted that you sit on his lap rather than side by side like usual, and you did, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you firmly by the waist. after two shots, you decided to take your courage in your hands and finally do something about this tension between the two of you, so you leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek. but he must’ve felt your stare on him, so just as you leaned in close to him, he turned his face, and your lips ended up on his. you both pulled away at the same time, the photobooth taking a picture of your stunned expressions. however, his shock quickly turned into giddiness as he added another coin to start the booth again, and just as the lights went off, he kissed you on the lips, on purpose this time. “that way, we have pictures of our last seconds as friends and of our first seconds as a couple,” he’d explained afterwards.

YOSHI. after not seeing you for a few weeks, yoshi missed you more than he wanted to admit (even though he’d tell anyone who’d listen just how much he missed you). you knew he was busy with comeback preparations and told him you could wait, but one afternoon, he decided to sneak out of practice, knowing he’d get told off by his leaders and managers but missing you too much to care. he made sure you were actually free that day and told you to meet at your favorite hang-out spot, an underground arcade and food court. his heart was pounding at the idea of seeing you again after such a long time, and when his eyes finally found you, arms crossed as you waited for him at the entrance of the building, a huge grin spread onto his face. you could tell something was different by the way he hugged you when he got to your level - the hug was a bit longer, a bit tighter than usual, and you felt your heart swell when you realized that maybe, just maybe, he liked you the same way you liked him. you pulled away after a few seconds, his arms still around you as you smiled at each other. you did all the things you usually did: compete on the dance game machines (he always won) and on the car racing machines (you always won), then tried to win the other a stuffed toy from the claw machines (neither of you ever did), then ate an unhealthy amount of french fries as you sipped on a strawberry milkshake and he on a vanilla one, even though you always stole a bit from each other, and both ended up with a strawberry-vanilla shake. everything you did was the same as usual - but it felt different. his eyes lingered on your face, his hands found a way to sneak themselves around your waist. when you decided to take a few pictures at the photobooth, he insisted that you sit on his lap rather than side by side like usual, and you did, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you firmly by the waist. after two shots, you decided to take your courage in your hands and finally do something about this tension between the two of you, so you leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek. but he must’ve felt your stare on him, so just as you leaned in close to him, he turned his face, and your lips ended up on his. you both pulled away at the same time, the photobooth taking a picture of your stunned expressions. however, his shock quickly turned into giddiness as he added another coin to start the booth again, and just as the lights went off, he kissed you on the lips, on purpose this time. “that way, we have pictures of our last seconds as friends and of our first seconds as a couple,” he’d explained afterwards.

JUNKYU. this was another normal day for you and your best friend: just hanging out on his bed, laying in increasingly random but comfortable positions, stalking your old classmates on facebook or watching niche asmr videos for hours and ordering your comfort food when your stomach growls became too loud and painful to ignore. this time, you were separately scrolling through tiktok, only ever talking to show the other something you think they’d like. you stumbled upon a new trend, one where two friends sat together and the one making the tiktok kissed their friend when certain lyrics of the song played, hoping they will kiss them back. you glanced at junkyu - maybe he didn’t know the trend, because the sound coming from your phone hadn’t seemed to catch his attention. it painfully reminded you of just how much you’d been wanting to kiss your best friend immediately. how could you not when he was so adorable? wiping the corner of your lips when you ate messily, the way he laughed when you made stupid jokes, his warm hugs whenever you had to go home; it all made you fall more and more for him, but like any person with feelings for their best friend, you knew it was risky to admit them to him. so you stayed quiet - until that day, at least. you thought, “if he doesn’t want to kiss me, at least i can play it off as doing the trend.” so you sat up and asked him to do the same, sitting at the edge of the bed together. you prompted your phone on one of his shelves, making sure the audio and video were cropped right before you pressed play and ignoring him as he bugged you with questions. “you’ll see, just sit there and uh… listen to the audio. listen carefully, okay?” you instructed quietly. he obediently did as told, an excited expression on his face. when he realized he knew this song and what lyrics came next, a huge grin spread onto his lips, and before he knew it, you were leaning in and kissing him. neither of you knew that the other had been waiting for this exact moment, but he kissed you back instantly, even pulling you back in when you started leaning away and smiling into the whole kiss, the tiktok long forgotten as the music played over and over in the background. long story short, this was how make-out sessions became a thing when you and junkyu, your best-friend-turned-boyfriend, hung out.

MASHIHO. finally back home in japan for a month-long break, mashiho was planning on spending as much time with his family and his friend group from high school, which you just so happened to be in. once upon a time, you and mashiho had been very close. it was very obvious to all of your friends that you liked each other, but neither of you had dared to make a move, scared of damaging your friendship, and before you could gather the courage to confess your feelings, he had been whisked away to south korea to finish his training and debut as a member of treasure. this was the first time you saw him in real life and not on a screen in almost two years, but it only took a couple of days for your feelings to come back as if they had never disappeared in the first place - which they probably hadn’t, anyway. it’d been a week since he’d come back, and you were all hanging out at the basketball court of your old high school at 10 pm after having gone out for dinner. most were playing a game of basketball but you and two of your other friends had decided to hang back, saying you’d eaten too much to move around when you really just couldn’t be asked. mashiho, who was used to destroying absolutely everyone on the court, was of course surprised when his friends were able to stop some of his attacks and shoot perfectly even from afar. they took a small break and you told him how they’d practiced during his absence so that they could finally play an actual game against him without being ridiculed. the smirk on mashiho’s face as he said, “alright then, bring it on,” was very unhealthy for your poor heart who started beating a thousand times a minute, the simple action launching a horde of butterflies in your stomach. you watched the game, and more precisely him, with a lot more attention after that, shouting his name for encouragement and clapping when his team won a point. when he winked and waved at you after landing a shot, you really felt like the girlfriend of an american athlete at one of his college games, and you liked that feeling a little too much. you were so invested in this game that when his team finally won, practically all thanks to him, the adrenaline made you jump up from your seat on the ground to run over to him and press a congratulatory kiss to his cheek. this already made everyone cheer louder than the game did, so imagine just how loud your friends were when mashiho, shaking off his surprise, grinned wider, took you by the waist, and kissed you on the lips. 

JAEHYUK. similarly to junkyu, i imagine jaehyuk as being a besties before lovers type of guy, except that he really treats you like his girlfriend but just doesn’t have the guts to actually call you that. he always takes you on ‘hangouts’ that are more like dates, facetimes you at random hours of the day and night, calls you pretty whether you’re dressed up or not; he just does everything right, basically. everything but one thing, which is to make things official, and you’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t worry a little bit. you’d heard too many stories of girls being led on by their friends who act like boyfriends without the label and then turn around and make her think she’s delusional when she asks them about it. you really doubted jaehyuk could act like that, and in your head the worst-case scenario was that he was just oblivious to what he was doing and thought it normal, even though his friends always told you it was as clear as a sunny day he liked you and was just too scared to make the final move. this was why you had made up your mind that on your next date-like meeting with him, you’d finally gather enough courage for the both of you and act on your feelings, whether that meant straight-up confessing or doing something that couldn’t be seen as ambiguous in terms of where you two stood. it hadn’t even been a couple days since you’d taken this decision when he called you, asking if you were free next sunday, his nearest day off. as always, everything went perfectly, from his compliment on your new outfit, to the diner he’d picked out, to the way he made you laugh and your heart skip a beat. jaehyuk, however, wasn’t the type to flirt just to make you happy, but also so he could hear it back, and so he always found ways to make you compliment him as well - the fun part was to tease him and pretend you hadn’t noticed his new haircut or that you didn’t like his outfit that much just to see him pout and then grin widely when you said you were joking and that, yes, he looked very handsome. “oh yeah? so handsome that you wanna kiss me, i bet?” - this was another one of his favorite lines. you usually dismissed him with a roll of your eyes and told him to shut up, but today, you stayed quiet, thinking this might be your chance. he took your silence as flusteredness and added, “oh my god, you totally wanna kiss m-”, but you effectively interrupted him with a quick peck on the lips, shutting him up for good as you leaned back in your seat and continued eating as if nothing happened. he stared at you blankly, mouth slightly open, and touched his fingers to his lips like the female lead in a kdrama. without a word, he leaned in as you did seconds prior and pecked you just as quickly as you had, making you the shocked one this time. “if you get to do it, i get to do it too,” he said, pouting down at his food. when your gazes found each other, you burst into giggles, and after you calmed down, he very cutely threatened “just wait until it’s the two of us. i’ll show you what a real kiss is.” let’s just say that from that day on, there was no hesitation as to whether you two were just friends or dating (hint: it’s the latter). 

ASAHI. no matter how much he liked you, asahi had a tendency to get very immersed into whatever he was doing at the moment and sort of forget about your presence in the room. in his own somewhat awkward words, he’d tried to reassure you that it was just because he felt extremely comfortable around you and didn’t feel the need to keep you entertained, that he was happy when you just chilled together, each of you simply doing their own thing. you were usually fine with it too, happy to just be with him, but this one day, you’d gone over to hang out at his dorm so you could spend actual time chatting and hanging out with him, not just scrolling through social media while he worked on his latest painting. you’d whined about it when he started painting but he told you he’d be done in ten minutes. ten minutes passed, then another ten, and another ten. you’d call out to him every now and then but he’d always repeat the same thing - “i’ll be done soon.” your complaints barely reached his ears, your whines earned a mere chuckle, so when you’d had enough, you’d gotten up and said, “fine, guess i’ll just go hang out with jaehyuk then,” sure that that would get his attention. but he just replied with an unbothered, “sure, he’s probably in the kitchen.” you scoffed at his nonchalance, and decided desperate times called for desperate measures, so you stomped over to where he was sitting and pressed an aggressive kiss on his cheek. this finally got his attention and when he looked at you with a stunned expression, you were scared you’d completely overstepped your boundaries - it wasn’t like you two were actually dating, even though every member and their mom were telling you to. but his face immediately softened as he took in your small frown and pout, realizing he’d been very negligent of you. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you. let’s hang out now.” his words already warmed your heart, but when you saw he’d been drawing a picture of you from when you had gone to a park together, you thought you couldn’t get more in love with him. later on, he teased you about your method of getting his attention, but he definitely didn’t complain when you did it again, practically lending you his cheek (because he was too shy to give you his lips) for you to peck. 

YEDAM. you realized that bang yedam liked to show off, just a little bit, when he invited you to watch practice at his company building for the fifth time. he liked impressing you with the new intense choreography they’d just learned or with his angelic vocals that never failed to make goosebumps appear on your skin. the members teased him about having ten times more energy when you were around, but your smile and claps as you watched him and the praises you gave him afterwards made it all worth it. he’d liked you since he met you at school - you still remember his trembling hands and his deep blush as he asked you if you wanted to come to his practice for the first time - but seeing you getting along with his members, learning the dance from mashiho, copying hyunsuk’s rap and laughing at asahi’s and jeongwoo’s antics, it all made him like you even more; you fit right in. he asked them what to do about these feelings, and they all advised him that next time he asked you out, it should be just the two of you. yoshi, in all his wisdom, told him that having you over at the company like he usually did was a good idea because it was familiar and comfortable, but that it could be at a time where he practiced individually. doyoung added that he should sing a love song as way of confessing, and everybody groaned at the cheesy idea, but yedam, for some reason, thought it was the greatest, most romantic thing ever and thanked his friend, thumb on his phone already pressing your contact, ready to call and ask you out. you said yes immediately, heart pounding at the idea of it finally being just you two after months of hanging out in groups, whether that was with your friends at school or with his members during practice. when you got there, you talked for a bit, the electric tension in the air making you both feel giddy. he warmed up before he got the song ready and told you to “listen to the lyrics carefully” with a very pointed look. you couldn’t contain your smile as you nodded, excited for whatever he had planned. lo and behold, you had the honor of not only being the first to hear the piano, demo, yedam solo version of the one and only darari, but also of being the inspiration behind the song. when it was over, yedam turned to you with a sheepish smile, asking “did you like it?” and being answered with a chaste kiss to his lips. his hands found your waist as if by instinct and, as he looked up at you with wide eyes and you looked down at him with a huge grin, you replied, “i loved it.”

DOYOUNG. nobody will ever convince me that doyoung doesn’t give the biggest university campus hearthrob vibes. i know this whole post was idol!treasure but just for him i’m gonna make an exception cause… yeah. doyoung is that guy in your really boring class that you only go to because he’s there, even though you never speak to him. all you’ve done is gaze longingly at him and look away abruptly when he catches you staring, so you’re sure he must think you’re crazy until one day when your professor announces a group project in pairs and doyoung swings around on his chair, looking right at you and smiling as if you were friends that already knew they’d partner up. you look around and behind you, trying to see if his smile is actually directed at someone else, but everyone’s already speaking to their partner. when your eyes find doyoung again, he’s already walking towards you, grabbing the empty chair beside you and plopping himself down on it. “wanna do this together?” his smile is blinding and all you can do is nod slowly and mumble out “s-sure.” and that’s how you become friends with doyoung, and how your infatuation with him turns into an ever-growing crush. working on a project together leads to meeting at the library for study dates, leads to taking coffee then lunch breaks, leads to texting random things during the day, leads to inviting each other to parties, leads to hanging out outside of school when the project is over, leads to you being head over heels for him. it doesn’t help that along with being ridiculously handsome, doyoung also happens to be a gentleman who knows your coffee order by heart, is easy to work with, makes you laugh, and flirts with you shamelessly. you’d like to say that after a few weeks, comments such as “you look pretty today, y/n” don’t affect you or that you don’t feel anything when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, but that would be the world’s biggest lie. the fated kiss happens at half past midnight on a tuesday during exam season. there was an essay you had completely forgotten about, and you only had twenty hours to do all the reading, come up with a topic, and write it out - the professor didn’t accept extensions, because they were evil. you had briefly told doyoung about this, but you just thought he’d send you a sweet text of support - not that he’d show up at the library, two cups of coffee in hand. “here, they’re both for you. motivation and comfort,” he grinned, placing them on the corner of your table. “oh my god, doyoung, i could kiss you right now,” you breathed, heading straight for your first cup. you almost spat out the coffee when he replied, “then do it.” you don’t know if it was the deliriousness of having been awake for such a long time, or if it was the adrenaline of having to finish an assignment on time, or the fact that he still managed to look good at midnight under the bright yellow fluorescent lights of the library, but you did it. you stood up and pressed your lips firmly against his for a few seconds before pulling away and returning to your essay. your cheeks were burning and you were too shy to look back at him, the realization of what you had just done hitting you. “y/n?” “yeah?” “is that it?” you can feel his gaze burning holes through your head, but still you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.”i don’t have time right now. sorry.” a beat passes and you pretend to read a paper, but none of the words on your screen passes. “then will you come to my dorm when you’re done?” another beat. “yeah. okay.” “okay.” he kisses the top of your head and whispers ‘good luck,’ and your cheeks manage to burn even more. you think you might combust right then and there, but at least you have an even better incentive than a good grade to finish this assignment. ok now who would read this if i turned it into a full fic…

HARUTO. the gods of love and fanfiction were on your side when they made you besties with haruto’s sister. he was back in japan for his break, and on his second day home, his sister asked if you could come over for dinner. you usually saw each other every day, if not at school then at each other’s houses or in town, but that hadn’t been possible the day before since it was her brother’s arrival, and she was already having withdrawal symptoms. their parents gladly agreed - you were like a second daughter to them at this point, much like your friend was to you parents. he hadn’t really thought twice about it at first; he remembered you as his sister’s shy friend that smiled a lot but didn’t talk very much. well, you still smiled a lot but were more talkative now; and either you had changed immensely in the year since he’d seen you last, or he just didn’t have that good of a memory, because when he saw you again, he himself grew shy because of how pretty he found you. his cheeks reddened when his parents coddled him or bragged about his achievements, his head hung low in embarrassment when usually he’d have welcomed the compliments with open arms. “gosh, you need to eat more, son! it’s like they don’t feed you over there,” his mom grumbled, scooping a huge portion of rice in his bowl. he wanted to dig a hole in the ground when you giggled at his mom’s antics. he grew more and more comfortable around you as time passed, considering you were over at their house at least three times a week, but he still found himself unable to get a full sentence out while looking you in the eyes. the way he was around you was so different from his usual personality that it was obvious to everyone that he had a crush on you. you found him extremely endearing, but knew there was no point trying to pursue what might be there, since he’d have to leave soon. it was only on his last night home that you gathered enough courage for the both of you. it was late in the night and you were sleeping over at your best friend’s house, but the coffee you had stupidly had at 6pm was keeping you awake. quietly, you walked out of your friend’s bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water, but sound from the living room distracted you. you took a peak in and found haruto on the couch, watching an action anime. he almost had a heart attack when you called out his name, not expecting anyone to be up at this time. “what are you still doing up? shouldn’t you be getting some sleep before you leave?” you asked, sitting down next to him on the couch. if you couldn’t sleep, might as well stay here. “i can never sleep before i go back to korea. i love being there but i just… i hate waking up and knowing today’s the day i leave home.” it surprises him how easily the truth comes out, but it feels nice to put it out there - he doesn’t want to cause his parents sorrow by telling them how much he wants to stay even though he can’t. “you want to make it feel like your time here is longer or something? so you stay up…” you say, looking at the bright colors of the tv. “pretty much, yeah.” you ask him what anime he’s watching and scooch closer to him, letting a comfortable silence fall between you after he’s answered, the only sound in the room coming from the tv. after a couple of episodes, you feel sleep wash over you, and stretch your arms, letting a big yawn out. “going to bed?” haruto asks, pausing when the next episode starts to play, and you nod. “you know, ruto,” you start, and his heart skips a beat at the familiar nickname - it’s a lot nicer when you say it rather than his mom. “it’s normal to feel sad when you leave home. but it’ll still be here, waiting for you to come back.” you smile at him. “i’ll be here too.” you get up, but before you leave the room, you turn back towards you, and lean down to press a soft kiss to his nose, a feature of his you’d always secretly loved. you grin as you watch his face break into surprise, and wish him goodnight, chuckling. “g-goodnight, y/n.”

JEONGWOO. as soon as he’d stepped into the classroom on the first day back to school and saw you there, jeongwoo knew he’d have the fattest crush on you. your carefree laughter as you talked with your friends, the glint in your eyes, the sound of your voice. he liked everything about you immediately, and that feeling only grew as time passed, even though you’d never had a proper conversation. always the class clown despite his idol status, he never failed to bring attention to himself with his funny comments and reactions, yet somehow managed to stay likable and not become that obnoxious guy who doesn’t know yet to stop. but when he was with you, he grew quiet. if you were on the same group, he’d barely look at you, only talking to you when absolutely needed. naturally, you thought he hated you. but when he found out you lived in the same neighborhood as his dorm, he’d shyly asked his manager if he could walk home from school once in a while rather than be driven home, and then he’d shyly asked you if you guys could walk home together, taking you by surprise. rare were the days he actually got out of school at a normal time, but when he did, he always waited outside the classroom door for you, earning him a few whoops from his friends and hushed giggles from yours. the first few times, he stayed pretty quiet, and you almost wondered why he’d asked you in the first place. but soon enough, his more playful side, the one you’d see at school or on t-map episodes (although he didn’t need to know you watched those), started to come out, and he’d talk with you about anything between the earth and the sun. you found yourself agreeing on the same crazy things, making up insane conspiracy theories, going back and forth on a topic no sane human would talk about and each sentence you uttered only adding to the craziness, both of you egging the other on and nodding as if you had unearthed the planet’s wildest truths. when you got to your house, you were so high on the incredible things you and jeongwoo had discovered that you pressed a quick peck to his cheek, thanking him for walking you home. before either of you could realize what you’d just done, you’d already closed the door behind you, leaving a very stunned jeongwoo to stand at your door for a few seconds, two fingers on the spot your lips had blessed his cheek and a smile growing on his face. his hyungs never heard the end of it that evening.

JUNGHWAN. i have no idea what it is about the three youngest members that give me huge ‘shy-when-in-love’ vibes, but junghwan is no exception. it was your last year of high school and even though you were drowning in homework and college applications, your parents had made you get a part-time job to help with the eventual university fees. luckily for you, your mother had a friend whose hairdresser had a cousin that worked at YG entertainment, and could get you a job as a part-time barista in the building café. he just needed to make sure you weren’t completely unqualified and wouldn’t freak out whenever you saw an idol, and it was set. you can’t lie, the first few times a winner or ikon, or worse, blackpink, member walked in, you had to really concentrate to not spill the coffee everywhere out of nerves. but it didn’t take you long to realize they were just regular people craving caffeine like you, and the fact that your coworkers and the company staff were completely unfazed helped as well. treasure, as the newest and most active group of YG, came by a lot, and you were glad to notice they were always friendly and polite with you - your friend who was a huge teume would be enthralled by the information. however, even if they weren’t all talkative extroverts, there was one member who was particularly quiet: junghwan. you thought nothing of it until one day, walking in for the start of your shift, you saw him chatting with the other barista, but as soon as he saw you, he grew quieter, answering in hums and short sentences, glancing at you in what seemed a nervous fashion. since you were a new addition, you chalked it up to him being shy around strangers. but then, he started coming in in the evening, when the café was relatively empty, and sat at a table after ordering rather than just getting his drink and leaving. he got out his homework and would simply work on it for thirty or so minutes, most of the time alone, sometimes with one of the older members. you didn’t say anything, and after a month, he finally talked to you for something else that his coffee order. you placed his drink (always an iced choco) down on his table, and as you were about to walk away, he called out your name. “yeah?” you said, turning around quickly, perhaps too quickly. the fact that he came in at such quiet hours meant that you had much leisure time to do nothing other than stare at him, unbeknownst to him. you knew he was a handsome guy, but being able to observe him so closely made you notice so many of his cute habits, and before you knew it, you were developing a crush. “how do you like it here?” he asked, and that was it. he forgot his homework as you answered his question, which prompted more from him, which prompted more from you. after that, you got into the habit of talking every time he came in, venting about your problems, bonding over shared interests, laughing at cat memes together. more often than not, this resulted in him being late for practice or never getting around to his homework. since you were in the same year level and he didn’t have as much time to study as you did, you also helped him with subjects he struggled with. you’d spent a week going over a history lesson with him, which had started out with him hopeless but he grew more and more confident about the upcoming test, thanks to your help. he had been really nervous about it, so when he barged in the café, a huge grin on his face and graded paper showing a bright red ‘B+’ in hand, you were so proud that you couldn’t help but run to him and take his face in your hands, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. his eyes grew wide and he looked down at you in disbelief, but before you could run away and hide from what you just did, his grin found its way back to his face and he took you in his arms for the warmest hug you’d ever received. “i couldn’t have done it without you, y/n.”

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, plagiarize or translate my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @lalalalawon @sd211

[thecoolerliauditore]

THE SHEPSCAPADES COMIC! That was to me (and from my perspective to the fandom) the turning point of “ok, im not imagining this”. It doesn’t change any dialogue or anything, it just gives the characters facial expressions and yet it’s almost impossible to interpret the interaction in any way other than the relationship not being good.

The dl era, to me, was a lot of trying to ignore the implication of ranchers fanon lore being that, for once, someone is being nice to Jimmy. People could see the difference in their interactions, which made the abusive behaviour all the more difficult to ignore, and yet acknowledging this directly would be labelled shipping discourse and no one wants to be THAT fan, right? But the tension growing was palpable.

I also would like to add that once I decided to scroll through anti-toxic fh blogs to try and understand why they think like that and… a lot of it was just “well it makes me feel gross”? And I get it. Cannibalism and mass murder are, to most of us, a very distant concept, so it’s more comfortable to engage with than the horrors of the mundane, especially when applied to a queer character. But that doesn’t mean it’s any better than talking about domestic abuse.

The last paragraph is phrased weird but i don’t know how to write it better so i hope it’s understandable.

That comic was patient zero in "oh my god other people see it too" for so many of us, I think. And yeah like you said it sticks very close to what happened taking into account tone of voice and everything. Adaptations of that sequence are like an almost surefire test to figure out what someone's interpretation of FH's relationship is and I think that's wonderful.

Big agree on the ranchers lore and I would argue Pearl's POV also has a similar effect where it forces you to acknowledge Scott not being the best ever. Funnily enough I watched the ranchers pov before the FH pov and didn't really see any of the post-FH horrors until I watched FH. I just kind of assumed when people said Tango was the first person who treated Jimmy as an equal they were putting "and Scott too but that was a season ago" in footnotes. But no they meant full-time and they'd be right lmao

My favourite example of Jimmy expecting the worst is this interaction he has with Bdubs where he essentially gets a bucket for free when the ranchers were struggling for iron and tells him to not tell Tango because he's scared he'll get yelled at. Like there is literally nothing Jimmy has done here that would be remotely considered reasonable to yell at him for but he's so afraid of having agency and making his own decisions at this point he just defaults to assuming his partner will be upset at him. (FYI I think this is more a result of how everyone treats him - Southlanders certainly did not help - but getting mad at Jimmy for doing literally anything except sit still was something Scott was especially privy to)

Don't worry I think your point was clear enough on that last paragraph, I kind of roll my eyes when people try to use distance as an excuse to justify why some dark topics are okay but others aren't, but I can't talk too much about this because I find it annoying and will probably end up saying something that feels mean lol.

Redirecting this once again to Bree's post about how hostile the language people use when talking about this discourse is to abuse victims e.g. "why can't you be NORMAL and write about NORMAL relationships and let them be NORMAL" which I think partially comes as a direct result of refusing to engage in abuse storylines and thus not being sympathetic to these portrayals or the people who write them.

And aside from that it's not even like. abuse and toxic relationships themselves are the issue sometimes. Obviously generalizing here a bit but I see a lot of the same people who find toxic fh "gross" gas up interpretations where Jimmy cheats on Scott or otherwise treats Scott horribly. Not to mention Pearl and her storyline getting turned into "girl who is mad gay man won't date her".

It just uh. sometimes feels as though the "grossness" is coming from a need to defend Scott's honour than a need to disengage with these themes entirely, which rubs me the wrong way.

(not to mention that I do think calling abuse storylines "gross" in of itself might have some unfun implications attached but I've said enough)

[sometimesiammybpd]

actually okay. i need to say this. writing the longform posts about whoever is actually so difficult for me. i can't remember everything anymore, first off. i genuinely think i subconsciously have the coping mechanism of blocking memories out for trauma-related reasons (NOT osdd), but i'm always afraid when i'm writing those posts. i'm afraid they're somehow going to find it and know i'm writing a post about them and then take it personally like i was trying to attack them and come @ me. i'm afraid i can't get the details right and therefore would be painting a picture differently than what really happened. and honestly, i'm afraid it won't help.

and it doesn't. a lot of the time, it doesn't. i write the post in the hope that i can move on, but it doesn't help. and it breaks me down every single time when i come to the conclusion that i'm pretty much incapable of moving on. and it's more than just that, to be honest. no one understands me. no one understands that i can't help any of this. that no matter how hard i yell and scream at myself and go to endless therapy sessions and whatever magic people think will make things be different this time around doesn't work. and it leads people to cut me off because they think i'm purposely being manipulative. or stuck in the past. or being physically fucking incapable of moving on when all i want in the world is to be able to. it makes me wish i wouldn't wake up every time i realize they're still in my head. or that i'm wishing for an answer i probably can't even handle. or any number of things all the time. literally it's not enjoyable. it's not something i wished to happen. it's not on purpose, intentional, whatever the fuck i've been told i've done over and over in the past.

half the time when i blow up a friendship, i don't even realize i've done anything wrong UNTIL the damage is done; until there's nothing i can do to fix it. yeah, there have been intentional times because a few times i have been more than aware of what i was doing. but even then, i can't stop myself. it's like. once i'm on the path, i can't get off until it ends. even if the end of it is a bridge burning to ashes. i don't want to hurt people. i don't want to make my closest friends hate me or be incapable themselves of dealing with me. but it's also not fair that i can't be friends with a single person who actually understands my side. it's not an excuse at all, but i never get the chance to fix it. i am ridiculously self-destructive but i barely understand what sets me off or what goes on in my head. and that's just not enough for people. because to everyone i've ever met or been friends with with VERY FEW EXCEPTIONS, once the bpd rears its ugly fucking head, it's me being abusive on purpose. or manipulative. or gaslighting them, or lovebombing them, or whatever bullshit i've been told over and over.

it makes me want to die because i feel completely unable to be better. i feel like i am just that bad of a person and the only way for me to stop hurting people is to outright take myself out of the equation, permanently. like. i am so fucking sorry all the time if i hurt you. if i do anything to make you angry at me or unable to stand me. i swear to god i am. but please listen to me and let me calm down. help me instead of cutting me off. please. someone just fucking stay and listen and try to understand what's going through my head in that moment. please for the love of god. i just want to be fucking heard. it just feels like everyone is perfect and i'm just destined to be an abuser. even though i've tried so hard to AVOID ever being attached to that label. i'm just sorry. i'm sorry i wasn't easy to deal with. i'm sorry i got set off and it sent me spiraling. i'm sorry.

i just fucking want someone to listen to me instead of dismissing me and never speaking to me again. why is that such an impossible thing to ask for???