#fuck putting tags on something that covers this sort of topic i do not want that figurative cancer

[a-broken-worthless-monster]

I don't understand people, vent rant of large proportions.

I don't understand people, I see posts about people non American complaining about the voting and I see people who seem to be American complaining about voting. I'm not American and I feel a tremendous amount of BS coming from supposed "non americans" and just sheer confusion for the other...

Voting isn't as easy elsewhere as it is here, however having little but shit choices is rather universal and it's not hard to pick the lesser of two evils? (Or pick the least shit options in other voting matters)

Like, I get people are "tired of guilt trips" and other stuff but like, if you wanna complain about the certain genocide shitshow but insist on doing nothing or voting for an evil prick... you 'are' just as bad as a hypocrite with your ideals, you are complicit in your most basic level of avoiding the simplest action to take and it's cold fact.

That applies to everything else bad that comes from it too. (And the nons who actively take part in arguing for no votes or the evil prick are complicit too)

This is really the fluid, open, queer, disabled, mental illness, semi escape, (if unbanned somehow) kink, dumpster fire, acceptance site? Because all I have is the mispleasure of seeing almost nothing but the aforementioned people who seem to just want to send everything to shit while they blame others and play hypocrite with their performative ideals.

Unfortunately for malicious fuckheads other people care tremendously thankfully and still opt to point out that one option is not as bad and sadly shit spreads elsewhere when things happen. (Trump support got weirdly high here when he got in, no thanks to insane shit media coverage and perspective)

It's depressingly sad to see so much stupidity, arrogance, malice, callous cruelty and hypocrisy... the sad part is people on both sides can constantly say the same for the other and I'm tired of this world and don't understand and I prefer to really avoid this shit but it keeps popping up without interaction from me and I need to vent.

Anti-capitalists, genocide protesters, "allies" of the queer communities, disabled, mentally ill, feminists, all forms of identities, the supposed "leftists"... even centrist folk.

Tons of them spout far right bullshit on here and even more people from all walks of life, it's just bewildering to see people don't seem to want things better for as many as possible, hell even just want things worse by the sounds of it and it's sad and I literally don't understand.

I'm not kind, I'm quite horrid and not above wishing those people what they deserve and worse for those who actively push for the worst things.

I don't understand people, people will never make sense.... I didn't fit very well in life compared to normal people anyway so no surprise I don't understand.

[viburnt]

omg your puppy hybrid au i love! i can totally see dabi trying to turn the tables and collar his owner instead 😭😭

Anon, you're SO right! You smart little thing, have some Collar Headcanons.

• Doberman! Dabi does try to collar up his lady, specially after you tried to place the black leather piece on his neck. It's both a way to say "This one here is mine, fuck off!" And also a way of teasing.

• He hates the idea of being treated like a pet of some sorts, and also despises the concept of control the collar means. If he wanted to be collared up, he would've stayed with his father. It also makes him feel like one of those fancy tiny lapdogs, so collars are a no no for him.

• Touya often teases Tomura about it by the way. He is aware that the collar Shigaraki uses is functional more than a prop, but he can't help but smirk and mock him.

• The first time you asked him if he'd ever use a collar, his answer was a very blunt: "Fuck no! You're not my owner." You don't try to press the topic any further since it's clear it made him uncomfortable, but sometimes (when he is alone), he thinks about it. You may not be his owner (you are) but he sure does follow your lead.

• It is when he sees you had actually bought a collar for him that something in his brain just clicks. Sure, he wasn't going to use it, but his mind drifted to places: your neck would look so pretty with that thing on! The mere thought makes him go feral.

• "Don't tell me, this lil' thing was supposed to be for me? What about you wear it instead?"

• Low-key keeps the collar close to him to rub his scent on it and then tries to sneak it around your neck. He has to mark territory!

• Dabi taunts and teases you whenever the topic surges, tugging the leather piece around your neck in playful banter. "Say, how's my little lapdog? It's not too tight, is it?"

• Likes to snap pictures of you with that damned collar, has an album full of them. His favorite ones are where you're trying to cover your face in embarrassment. "What? Shy now? Weren't you thinking of doing this to me?"

• The only moment where a collar is ok for him to use is during his heats, for reasons stated in my last post.

"I'm not wearing that!" Dabi yelled, running around the small space of your living room as you tried to place the collar on. "At least let me see how it'd look! Come on, please!" You begged, following him around. "Put it on if you want to play pet so bad."

Pouting you gave up, sitting on the couch in defeat. "Fine, I guess I can give this to- Hey! What-" You didn't feel when Dabi had taken the item off your hands, gasping a little as his rough hands secured it around your neck in a swift movement. It was tight, choking you slightly. "Don't make me walk you like a dog..." Touya chuckled.

Tagging my babes: @shionancientsblog @dabislittlemouse @trickster-kat @shonen-brainrot (feel free to tag more Dabi fans haha)

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[fangirl-writes]

Kiss and Tell

5sos x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing probably

Notes: the quarantine chats are dangerous. I could have made this fic so much longer than I did and I really wasn’t sure how to end it tbh 😅

Summary: You've kissed all the boys at some point or another so they call upon you to settle an argument.

“What.” You deadpanned when your face popped up on the screen.

“Y/N!”

You narrowed your eyes. They were all smiling at you a little too sweetly.

“What.”

“Why do you assume we want something from you?” Calum asked.

“Because you never fucking let me into these things unless you want me to do something,” You replied and they laughed. “So what do you want?”

“We need you to settle an argument,” Ashton said.

“About what?” You asked, taking a drink from your water bottle.

“Well, you know how you’ve kissed all of us at one point or another?”

You choked on your water and they burst into laughter again.

“Great, yeah, I could be dying over here and you fuckers are laughing. I feel the love.” You said, face heating up.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Luke said through his laughter.

“Who’s the better kisser, Y/N?” Michael asked, swaying back and forth in his seat.

“I’m not answering that!”

“Come on, Y/N!” Ashton encouraged. “The fans want to know!”

You groaned, burying your face into your sweater covered hands. “Couldn’t you have asked someone else?”

“All the other girls we know are biased! Plus you’re the only one who has kissed us all.”

“Oh,” Michael interjected, looking at the chat. “Speaking of, the fans would like to know the story for each of these kisses.”

You let out another loud groan that set them into another fit of laughter. “None of you fuckers told me this was live.”

“I can vouch for some scenarios,” Ashton said. “One of us was obviously present for each kiss, um” - he cleared his throat - “she kissed me...actually, some of you probably saw when she kissed me during a- aaah, what’re they called?”

“Keeks,” you said, coming out of your hiding.

“Shit, yeah, that’s right. It was a joke to a one direction song or something.” he replied. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, chat’s right. It was in a car and ‘kiss you’ by 1D was playing. So I puckered my lips towards her, as you do,”

The other boys and you laughed.

“And, uh, she let me kiss her. Like the song says.”

“And I regret that decision every day.” You said.

“Oh!”

“Ooh.”

“Harsh.”

“Ouch,” Ashton said, smiling. “That- that was only a peck though, you didn’t even get the full Ashton experience.”

You wrinkled your nose and stuck your tongue out at him. He stuck out his right back.

“She kissed me in a game of spin the bottle,” Michael piped up.

“When we were fifteen,” You said. “And I remember you used way too much tongue.”

Michael blushed a little bit. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining,”

“You were fifteen, bro, she was just happy to be kissed,” Calum said, making the group laugh.

“Yeah, imagine having to watch that,” Luke said. “It was pretty gross but Y/N seemed to enjoy it at the time.”

You laughed. “Like Cal said, I was just happy to be kissed,” you said, winking at Michael.

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Ouch,”

“I think you kissed me during one of the old music videos, right Y/N?” Luke asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, but I think it got cut from the final thing. I don’t remember which one it was.”

“Was it She Looks So Perfect?” Calum asked.

“No, I don’t think so,”

“Oh my gosh!” Michael exclaimed. “Remember when we tried to get Y/N to run into the shot in her bra and a pair of American Apparel underwear?”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Oh my god, yeah!”

“And she would jump into Luke’s arms at the end?”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“I couldn’t believe you guys even had the guts to ask me that.” You said. “I told them no, of course, but they didn’t drop the subject the entire time they were filming.” 

“So it definitely wasn’t She Looks So Perfect.”

“No,”

“Was it Don’t Stop?”

"Nah, she kissed Calum on the cheek in that one,”

Calum giggled, a small blush spreading across his face.

“Wasn’t one of the recent ones was it? Not No Shame or Easier?”

“No, definitely not, we’d have remembered that.”

“Fuck was it something from Youngblood?”

“Not Girls Talk Boys was it?”

“No, no, no,”

“Jesus, how many music videos am I in?” 

“I think you’re in them all.”

“I’m in all of them?” You said, shocked.

“You didn’t know that?” Ashton replied.

“No, I didn’t know that. I mean I knew I was in a lot but I didn’t think it was them all.”

“Yeah, you always have some sort of cameo,” Luke said. “Even in Try Hard though you refused to ride the Rollercoaster.”

“Fuckin’ hate those things,”

“Oh, found it!” Michael exclaimed, a video playing in the reflection of his glasses. “It was in Good Girls, but it was cut.”

“Thought so,” You replied.

“It was during that slowed down, echo-y part.” Michael continued, dragging the video back a little bit.

“Oh, yeah, they had you jump up on stage and just, like, aggressively kiss Luke,” Ashton said.

You all laughed.

“Yeah. I remember that now. They wanted me to be one of the bad girls which I am absolutely not-”

“What do you mean? That song was about you.”

“I think the fuck not Mr. Irwin.”

That brought on more laughing.

“Yeah, don’t go looking that up,” You said. “Let’s just say there’s a reason it was cut.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Michael defended.

“I disagree, I’ve seen it.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about your strong emotions about this, Y/N,” Luke said with a laugh.

You laughed in return. “Trust me, Luke-ster, you were not the problem.”

“We’re getting off topic here,” Ashton interrupted. “How was the kiss, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, a small blush creeping across your cheeks. “It...wasn’t that bad... Better than Michael’s anyway.”

“Hey!”

You laughed and Luke shot you a wink through the camera.

“From the video it looks like you were enjoying it, Y/N,” Michael said with a smirk, getting you back for the comment.

“Fuck off Michael it was acting,”

"Mm hm, whatever you say,”

Your face was hot as you remembered it. The director had wanted it to be hot and intense. Wanted you to act like the girl from the song, which was hard for you on its own but you also had to full on kiss Luke in front of a whole bunch of people.

You were glad it got cut.

“The chat says it was hot,” Ashton read with a laugh.

You groaned. “After that behind the scenes video was released fucking (You + Luke’s Ship Name) was all over the place.”

Luke laughed. “I got tagged in a shit ton of Tweets, too.”

You nodded in agreement. “Not that I haven’t been shipped with all of you at one point or another,”

“I bet there’s still some fanfiction out there,” Michael said.

You laughed. “You would know,”

“When’d you kiss Calum?” Ashton asked.

“Drunk at a party,” Calum answered for you, sheepishly.

You gave him a lopsided grin. “That’s super dumb, Cal, I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “It’s okay,”

“You’re apologizing for kissing him?” Luke asked, grinning.

You blushed, laughing. “I guess?”

“That doesn’t totally count, you were drunk!” Ashton said.

“What you want me to kiss him again?”

“Maybe!”

You were all sent into a fit of laughter.

“See? Why do you guys even need me here? You know the stories.” You said, wiping your eyes from laughing so much.

“Because we can’t say who the best kisser is! And neither can any of our girlfriends. You are our unbiased party.”

“How do you know I’m unbiased?” You teased, putting them into a talking-over-each-other frenzy. You laughed. “Seriously, guys, all of those kisses were so long ago. I can’t give a good answer.”

“We just all need to kiss you again,” Luke joked.

“No way!” You protested.

“Why not?” Ashton asked.

“Because you have girlfriends! And that’d be weird...”

“I gotta agree with her,” Michael said. “She’s our sister from another mister, it’d be weird.”

“Sister from another mister?”

“Shut up, Luke,”

“Okay, well, now that I’ve slacked off you with guys for a while I should get back to work,” You said.

“You work for us, what could you possibly have to be doing right now?”

“Unlike you boys, I actually do work.”

They laughed.

“This is our work! We’re catering to our audience.” Michael said.

“Whatever you say,” You replied with a smile. “See you, guys.”

“Bye Y/N!”

You left the meeting and opened your twitter.

‘I’m not kissing them so don’t ask’

[perksofhs]

‘I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me’

This was requested literally a year ago, I hope I did the prompt justice! Also it sort of goes along with ‘Please forgive me, I need you baby’, kind of like a prequel! xx

(Warnings: smut and mature content but also some fluff too, minors DNI) 

You hated going to parties, Harry thrived in those kinds of setting, you however did not. You’d spent most parties by Harry’s side, admiring his ability to talk to anyone like they’re old friends, never shy or embarrassed not matter the topic of discussion. You admired that about him, his outgoing personality balanced your somewhat introverted one. 

You’d been at the party for an hour or so, and if you were honest, you weren’t really sure whose party it actually was, but either way you were there, milling about with a few acquaintances, Harry carrying the conversation as usual. You take another sip of the quite large glass of red in your hand, scanning the room as it filled with more and more people, trying to pick out anyone familiar when your eyes landed on the last person you wanted to see, Mel. Mel was a ‘friend’ of Harry’s, but it was abundantly clear to anyone who watched them interact that she wanted Harry and Harry was oblivious. 

Whenever they hung out she was always touching him in any way she could, an exaggerated laugh that ended in her hand playfully swatting at his chest, or her touching his bicep as she spoke to him. It was obvious that she was flirting, and it pissed you off every time you were witness to her behaviour. After all, Harry was yours. You trusted him fully, but Harry’s biggest flaw was undoubtedly his ability to see the best in everyone whilst completely missing large red flags. 

Mel caught you staring, faking a smile before sauntering over to the two of you. “Harry!” she chirped, completely ignoring you, Harry turning and greeting her with a big smile. “Hey Mel! I didn’t know you were coming!” “You know I never turn down a good party” she says, giving Harry a hug that lasted longer than you would like. Mel turns to you, another fake smile thrown your way “Oh hey I didn’t even see you there! How are you?” she says, her voice sickly sweet. You attempt to force a somewhat believable smile before responding with a “Yeah good thank you”, Mel already focussing her attention back on Harry before you could finish your sentence. For the next 45 minutes she dominated the conversation, the acquaintances involved people slowly but surely wandering away until it was just the three of you left, and by then you had downed two more large glasses of red and were well and truly tipsy. 

On top of being borderline drunk you were more than a little angry, you were filthy, seething even. Mel had gotten on every last one of your nerves and then some. Your heart was racing as Mel continued to carry on about something stupid probablym you really couldn’t focus on anything but how much you couldn’t stand her. “So Harry, I’m planning on heading to Malibu next weekend, do you want to tag along?” Mel says completely ignoring you in these plans of course. “I mean we’re no-” “Sorry Mel we’ve got plans, remember baby?” You say confidently, taking Harry by surprise as you cut him off. “Come on Harry I was planning on hitting up that vintage shop you love” Mel says boldly. “Sorry Mel did you not hear me? We have plans and they don’t include you” you spit back, Harry remaining quiet not daring to show how much he was loving this side of you. You could tell Mel was pissed but trying to cover it up, “Alrighty then, I’m gonna go get another drink” she says, walking away in a huff. “Baby you ok?” Harry says, turning to face you. “No Harry she’s ridiculous! She just tried to invite you on a weekend away with her! Who the fuck does she think she is?” You were pissed and Harry was turned on. “Don’t worry about it, I’d never go, although I do like that vintage shop” he joked, leaning to kiss your forehead.

Your mind was spinning, which may have been the alcohol, but you needed to show Mel that you weren’t intimidated by her. Suddenly you grab Harry’s hand, pulling him up the stairs of whoever’s house this was and into the first bedroom you find, closing the door behind you before pushing him up against the wall. Harry looked at you slightly shocked as to what was happening “what are yo-” you cut him off with a kiss, the anger and alcohol surging through your veins. You fisted his hair, deepening the kiss before dragging your hands over his chest, down his torso and eagerly fiddling with the buttons on his pants as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere else in the room along with his pants. Harry wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, your lips remained on his as he carried you to the bed, throwing you down before hastily pulling your pants down your legs. “I don’t know what has gotten into you but I fucking love it” Harry says, tearing his shirt off and taking you in for a moment before leaning down trail kisses down your collar bone, his hand finding your inner thigh. You writhe at his touch, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He takes his time gently tugging your underwear down before positioning himself over you, placing his lips back on yours. This was all too slow for you; you were hot and needy, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You reached down, hastily tugging his briefs down, before grazing your fingers along him, feeling him grow harder and harder as you reach the tip. You knew it sent him wild. “Stop” he moans, firmly grabbing both of your hands and putting them above your head, holding them in place with one hand, the other trailing along your belly and down to where you so desperately needed him. His fingertips finally reach the sensitive skin, rubbing achingly slow circles with his thumb and forefinger, a moan leaving your lips as the motions quicken. “Harry please” you beg, bucking your hips up, needing him. Harry obliged releasing your hands, lining up, giving himself two pumps before crashing his lips back on yours as he pushed himself in. You feel yourself stretch around him; the first movement slow to allow you to adjust before he quickened his pace. You take a sharp breath as you feel him go deeper and deeper with every thrust. Your legs wrap around his back, needing him to go even deeper. Your breath quickens along with his, a string of uncontrollable moans leaving your mouth. The anger from the night was slowly dissipating as the two of you got lost in each other. 

Your fingers gripped his shoulders tighter as the two of you began to hit your peaks. Just as you were nearly there, the tingle in your toes already building, the door creaks open followed by the sounds of heels and an unbearably whiny voice called out ‘Harry? Harry hun are you in here?’. You knew who it was before she even opened her mouth, but you didn’t let it stop you. Harry’s head snapped up, disconnecting his lips from your neck ‘For fucks sake Mel don’t you knock? Fuck off!’ a smirk growing on your lips the second the words left his mouth. Mel looked like a deer in headlights, you swear you see her knees almost buckle at the site of you as her cheeks grew more red by the second ‘I fuck- uh I’m sorry, shit I’ll j-, I’ll just leave’ she said in an absolute panic as she tried to avert her eyes but you weren’t trying to avoid her gaze, instead something spurred you on, wanting to really make crystal fucking clear that he was your, not hers. You ground your hips harder against Harry’s, he hadn’t dared to stop throughout this whole ordeal as he was desperately close to hitting his climax. You moaned his name loud enough for Mel to hear as she scrambled her way out of the room. The door slammed shut and you bit your lip, allowing yourself a small moment of victory before turning your full attention back to the man between your legs. ‘She’s gone baby, now finish me’ you whispered in Harry’s ear, eliciting an almost pornographic moan from his lips as he quickened his pace, reaching down to rub your sensitive bud, wanting to push the both of you over the edge so badly. The second his ring-clad fingers touch you you’re gone, the tingle starting in your toes as the coil tightened in your belly, ‘baby, I’m near- fffuck, nearly ther-oh god’ you moaned as the coil snapped and you lose it, hitting your peak. Your toes curled, fingers digging into Harrys broad shoulders as you rode out your intense orgasm. Harry continued to thrust deep into you, becoming just slightly sloppier, relishing in the moment as he’s finally pushed over the edge as well ‘shit you’re so fucking good baby, so fucking good’ he panted as he came, taking you in as he started to come down off his high. Allowing his body to collapse atop of yours, Harrys lips found your jaw once more, placing wet kisses on your jawbone. “God love you so fucking much” he says taking a moment to rest his head on your chest, a giddy smile on his face, “I love you too baby” you said, placing a kiss on the top of his just slightly sweaty forehead. 

“I was going to suggest that we go back out to the party but If I’m being totally honest, all I want to do is go home and do this all over again, what do you say?” Harry says, shifting from his position up onto his feet, reaching a hand out to pull you with him. “I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me” you teased, stealing one last kiss before the two of you got dressed and made your way back out to the bustling party hand-in hand. It was obvious to anyone who saw you what had just transpired, but you couldn’t care less what any of these strangers thought. You walked back into the main living area, to collect your things, immediately spotting Mel standing rather awkwardly with a group of people, trying to ignore your smug look. Harry led you through the room, waving a few quick goodbyes as you made your way out of the house and into the waiting Uber. You knew that Harry, being the kind person he is, would eventually apologise to Mel for everything but that didn’t put a damper on your victory because all that mattered was she finally knew that Harry was yours, and only yours. You’d won and god did it feel fucking good. 

Hi lovelies, this was requested pretty much a year ago but my goodness I’ve been through so much in this last year that I haven’t had much time to write. I hope you enjoy reading this little piece, I surely enjoyed writing it! If you have any requests just let me know. All the love, E xxx

[thejudgingtrash]

Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me. 

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

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

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

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

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

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

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

[ahundredtimesover]

Like a Thief in the Night (FNTO 3)

What were you both trying to prove? That two people can remain just friends?

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! 

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, eventual smut

Word count: 4,800

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: JK gets some sense knocked into him thanks to Seokjin and Jimin bc I am a jinminkook stan. Italicized parts refer to past events. Listen to Home by 1D to prep you for part 4! 

#

Jungkook covers his face with his hands, elbows leaning on the table, right leg shaking constantly. He’s been listening to the track over and over again; the hook sounded good yesterday but why does it seem lacking today? 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna get this done in time,” he curses to himself. It has been a few days since he arrived in L.A. and had met with the producer he reached out to just as he planned. 

He’s been staying holed up in his hotel room though, his daily gym visits being the only other thing, aside from the concerts, that he looks forward to, given the old couple and father-and-son duos he’s been seeing there everyday. The guys and the rest of the team won’t arrive until a few days later, and he hasn’t had any motivation to go around the city.

He plays the track one more time. Maybe this time he’ll figure out what’s missing; is it in the melody? The lyrics? But unsurprisingly, he doesn’t. It sounds just like it did a minute ago, yesterday, 2 days ago. 

You won’t get any more productive being cooped up in here, he’d told you that Saturday when he dragged you out of your apartment for a little excursion. 

It’s been over a week since then. He’d told you the words you always tell him when he’s groaning in frustration to you over the phone because of a certain pitch he can’t get right, or over words that don’t seem to capture what he wants to say. 

He closes his eyes, head thrown over the desk chair and he lets out another grunt. Artists need to go out for inspiration and you don’t seem like you’re getting it here. 

He closes his laptop, wears a cap over his head, and readies himself to go out. “Damn it, Y/N, you win. You always do,” he says to himself, and walks out the door. 

#

It’s quite windy for a summer day in August in L.A., but the sun is still high up enough, slightly blinding Jungkook. The skies are clear, and he thinks it’s a good enough day as any to finally take a trip to the Griffith Observatory. 

He didn’t do much, just stared out at the city below him and enjoyed the fresh air he’d finally allowed himself to breathe. He could see the clouds so clearly from here, all soft and puffy. 

I’d eat those, you’d said not long ago when you were having brunch on your terrace, the warm summer air of Seoul hitting your faces. Of course, you’d eat anything, he’d answered back, earning a smack from you. That makes both of us, you’d said. 

He lets out a low groan. You again. “It’s just clouds, for fuck’s sake,” he says to himself. Somehow this seemed to signal to him that it was time to go.

A hotdog sandwich and soda later, Jungkook finds himself in Hancock Park, the sun slowly dipping down the horizon, making it a good time to just lay on the sprawling greens by the perfectly lined palm trees. 

With hands behind his head, he thinks that it's been a good day. Why you’d said that L.A. isn’t your cup of tea, he never found out. The city seems so dynamic, interesting; it has a little something for everyone, especially the food. He should ask you some time. 

Jungkook pauses his thoughts. Ask you? Why should he? He basically shunned you away, ghosted you for a week and convinced the company to allow him to leave early so he could meet with the producer he could very easily meet in between shows, just so he could get away from you as quickly as possible. 

The confused, pleading, and then defeated look on your face bore into his mind, unwillingly etched there along with the happier images of you - eating your favorite red bean ice cream, laughing so hard that no sound comes out of your mouth, your scrunched up face when drinking sodas, furrowed eyebrows when working, and finally, your sleeping figure bunched up underneath a thick fleece blanket, soft snores escaping you. 

That last one will always be his favorite, had been since that first time you’d asked him to sleep next to you. 

He woke up earlier than you that Sunday, the day after your little trip, body already used to their early morning wake up calls. You were both under the covers, with you taking up most of the blanket, as always. He softly laughed at this when he realized that half of his body was exposed, but this gave him a reason to scoot closer to you and feel your warmth, so he wasn’t complaining. 

You looked so peaceful, so soft, even with slightly furrowed brows as you were engulfed in your dream. A loose strand of hair fell on your face, which he’d tucked gently behind your ear. A smile befell him, thinking of the way his heart was currently beating slow and fast at the same time. How was that even possible? 

But he didn’t mind it, didn’t even think to find an answer. He’d already given up on finding reasons for what you’d been doing to him, what you’d been making him feel. 

He decided right then and there that he will no longer run from what he’s feeling for you, that he will no longer play this up as something that just happened. 

He’s a firm believer of destiny anyway, and yesterday, this moment right now, he feels like he’d dreamt it all before. He’s meant to be here with you, just as he was meant to be at your aunt’s cafe that September day last year to run into you, or that night out last New Year's when Chaewon had lost her car key and was too preoccupied to take care of you so he did, leading to that fateful morning of you in your underwear almost stabbing him - you both did agree that experience solidified your friendship, after all. 

Every other moment after that with you felt real, and more than anything, it felt right. He fell asleep again not long after, your steady breathing lulling him to sleep. His last thought was of the next time he’d wake up next to you like this again, and his heart softens at the thought.

He shakes his head, anger and frustration building up again, not at you but at himself. He was deliberate in his avoidance of you that whole week before he left.

He’d missed you when you were busy and he somehow felt empty. He crashed your Saturday and took you on a little trip - he remembers how fast his heart would beat whenever you’d lean on him, butterflies in his stomach suddenly having grown in size.

After you’d thanked him for being such a great friend - he winces at the word - he felt his heart shatter slowly, and then all at once. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary because you thank him constantly. He thinks it’s because you feel he could be doing something else other than spend time with you because time for him is a luxury; wealthy as he is, it’s something he can not afford. He never told you though that spending time with you is one of the things he looks forward to, sort of an escape but also a taste of normalcy he’s barely afforded. 

But after a while, your expression of gratitude became more specific - it wasn’t just time you were thanking him for, it was his attention, his care, his thoughtfulness… his friendship. 

Fate was playing a game with him, he thinks, that at the moment he’d decided what he wanted from you and what he could give you - his time, his world, his love at some point - you’d decided to define him, as your friend. How cruel, he whispers to himself. 

He tries to think as you do. You’d probably call him silly for his musings because you never believed in fate or destiny, always thought that things happen as they do, because they do - no grand plan, no specific reason, just a reason, and that was enough for you. 

He goes home from his sightseeing and allows himself to think about you again that night, and the night after. He thinks about your plump lips, soft against his chapped ones. He thinks about how it felt with you close to him, your arms wrapped around his; fingertips just slightly brushing. He’s glad you’d never lay your head on his chest when you sleep, at least he doesn’t know what that feels like - what you don’t know can’t hurt you, after all. 

He let the sound of your laughter and your out of tune singing sing him to sleep, over and over playing in his head. He tortures himself like this. It’s all he could do to get back at himself on your behalf, he thinks. You hurt him without knowing, and he hurt you right back. 

#

“Mind sharing what’s interesting about that text message, Jungkook?” Yoongi calls out from across the table. 

The guys are finally in the U.S., the morning of rehearsal having just wrapped up and everyone is backstage for a lunch break. 

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a look, as if to tell him to talk about it only when Jungkook brings it up first. The older man only shrugs. 

Jungkook picks this up, though; he picks up everything. He knows his hyungs as much as they know him. The questions about the meeting with the producer, how the mixtape is going, any sights he’d seen, new food he’d tried. They’re trying, he figures. 

He could sense the glances everyone is giving each other but him, the topic-change when the conversation is heading to the topic of you, the clearing of throats, the awkward silences. 

“Y/N texted,” Jungkook says after one of those awkward silences. He stares at the screen, as he’s been doing since last night when, just as he was about to finally doze off at 3AM, his phone lights up. You probably thought he was already asleep, not knowing the agony he was putting himself through.

Everyone falls silent but looks at him softly. Seokjin turns to Yoongi, as if telling him to say something and finish what he started, but Namjoin gets to it first.

“You can talk about it, or not. Depends on what you think will help you be ready for the next 2 nights of shows,” the leader says. “Just let us know.”

Jungkook sighs. “I hate myself enough just thinking about her. I don’t know what I’d be if I start talking,” he says. 

“We’ve got time after tomorrow,” he resigns. Everyone nods in agreement. “I need to be at my best for these two nights,” Jungkook says, and proceeds to keep his phone in his pocket and heads out.

#

Y/N: There’s no proper way to say this but I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I thought I had it all figured out. I wanted too many things from you but couldn’t commit to anything. I was selfish and unfair. I hate myself for hurting you the way I did and you didn’t deserve any of that. I’m so sorry.

Jungkook reads the text over and over again, as if doing so will clarify things for him. Wanted too many things? Couldn’t commit to anything? What did you mean? He called you selfish and unfair that day when you showed up at his place, and he hates himself for it, he hopes more than you hate yourself for hurting him. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I told her about you leaving early,” Jimin starts. “I probably should’ve picked up that something was wrong when you seemed off that whole day after you got back from her place and should’ve kept my mouth shut.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, hyung,” he responds. “If I hadn’t been an idiot and ghosted her for a week, we could’ve settled it properly instead of dragging you guys into this,” Jungkook says, looking up from his phone. 

He figures you’d eventually reach out to one of the guys about him. Seokjin had likewise reached out to you the other day, asking what was going on, that much he’s said.

“She also didn’t say much when I asked,” Seokjin says from across the table, beer bottle in hand. 

The guys are in a new city and have the next day just for rehearsals. He and Jimin had knocked on Jungkook’s hotel room, in hopes that the younger would be willing to talk. 

“But she did sound pretty out of it,” the elder continues. “What happened, Kook? Everything seemed to be going so well with you two. Unless it’s what we think it is.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook shoots both of them a confused look.

Jimin sighs. “Who fell first?” He questions. Jungkook’s eyes go wide, but then again, that’s what always happens right? He’s been in denial long enough that you and he were going to go down that route, but his hyungs weren’t. 

Jungkook shuts his eyes before taking a deep breath. 

“I did, at that moment,” he says, referring to that Sunday morning. “I mean, I think I’d felt something before then, but it felt faint, like something fleeting, something abstract, like a thought.” Jungkook drifts a bit, eyes glowing to the memory of you under the blankets.

“But I woke up that morning next to her and I don’t know, for the first time it felt different from all the other mornings. It felt tangible, like something I could hold onto and touch and feel and savor, not just an abstract idea of a person or a feeling,” he looks at his hyungs, eyes shining before they turn downcast. “But she thanked me for being a great friend.”

“Ouch,” Seokjin quips. “No wonder you’ve been moping.”

“I’ve been doing worse,” Jungkook responds. “I’ve been torturing myself, playing that morning, and that day at my house before I left, over and over again.”

“Why are you punishing yourself?” Jimin asks. 

“Because I lashed out on her. I called her selfish and unfair. I told her I wanted to get away from her, that she’s the problem.” 

At this, the two older men look at him, shock painted on their faces at the reveal. This doesn’t sound like their sweet little Kookie, expressing such anger that way.

“I didn’t talk to her for days and she stood there looking worried and sad and I lashed out. I essentially blamed her for the feelings I couldn’t control. She looked at me like I was the one breaking her heart.” 

“Maybe you were, too. Breaking her heart, I mean.” Seokjin quips. At this, Jungkook sighs. “Maybe not in the way you think but… did you even hear her out?”

“No…” Jungkook responds. He didn’t give you a chance. You stood there, demanding an explanation, and he blew you off. 

“Well, I doubt she’d say much. She didn’t know how you were feeling before then, did you really expect anything more? What happened to talking it out? You two always did that,” Jimin asks. 

“Yeah but not about this, not about feelings.”

“What kind of people flirt, kiss, sleep next to each other, and not talk about feelings?” Jimin continues.

“Idiots, cowards, naive people…” Seokjin answers, looking upset. The other two men could’ve easily missed the bitter tone of his voice.

“Yoongi hyung is that you?” Jungkook asks, a laugh almost escaping his lips.

“He’s rubbing off on me but the point is, that’s what you both are. What were you both trying to prove? That two people can remain just friends? She hadn’t let anyone in since her breakup, and you…” Seokjin gesticulates, trying to find the right words for Jungkook. “You are you, Jungkook. You don’t willingly make time just for anyone because you, we, don’t have enough of it. But you always, always make time for her. Both of you kept doing what you were doing, whatever it was, and did you really think staying in the gray area was sustainable? Look what happened!” Seokjin is out of breath, clearly this means a lot to him too. 

“I thought you’d learned enough from me,” he emphasizes the last word, pointing to himself. 

Jungkook and Jimin both soften at the elder, almost forgetting that he knows a thing or two about staying in the gray area, too afraid of crossing invisible lines, too naive to think that good things stay. 

“I teased along with everyone else because you two were enjoying yourselves, seemingly mature enough to roll with the punches and laugh along without it being awkward, and I’m not gonna lie, you guys were pretty cute too, but so many times I wanted to smack your head to knock some sense into you,” he continues. 

“You can never be too complacent about these things, Jungkook. You can never just resign into thinking that the person who makes you feel this happy, this right, can be kept at a distance and just stay there.” 

Jungkook feels it’s cathartic to Seokjin as much as it is for him. He’s right. Both of you should’ve talked about it at some point, perhaps after that first and second kiss, perhaps when it became routine to do that whenever he slept over, perhaps when it started to feel so right having your lips onto his. You were both being naive, thinking that things would remain as good as it was as time went on. 

He should’ve said something earlier, or perhaps talked to you right after that day instead of avoiding you. But more importantly, he shouldn’t have lashed out on you the way he did. His anger was misplaced. Perhaps he was angry at himself for letting it get as far as it did, for letting it affect him as much as it did. 

He let you sneak in his heart just like that, like a thief in the night you crawled in and took from him, and he let you, he always let you. And he never complained because he wanted it too. He wanted you, in whatever way he could have you, but he let his own cowardice get the best of him that day at his house. He lashed out because he was scared, more than anything, that you didn’t feel the same way. 

“I’m sorry, I just…” Seokjin says after a long silence has engulfed the three men, everyone finding a spot in the room to focus on, letting the words sink in. 

“We could all tell how happy she makes you and how soft you are for her. I mean, you let her give you shit for thinking that Ironman is the best Avenger and you never complain when she wears your clothes,” he continues, a smile forming on his lips. 

Seokjin, like the rest of the guys, feel very protective of the youngest. They feel they’ve done their part in raising him and want nothing more than for him to be happy, seeing the amount of pressure he puts on himself. 

“You don’t find that person just anywhere, Jungkook, especially not with the kind of life we live. I would’ve hoped you understood that and made you sure you wouldn’t lose her,” he continues.

“Yah, don’t get ahead of yourself, hyung. He hasn’t lost her yet,” Jimin says, looking at Jungkook to confirm. 

Jungkook buries his face on his hands. “I don’t know, I hope not. But I said hurtful things to her and I can’t take them back. And I’m thousands of miles away and I can’t just fix things from here.”

“Do you even know what you want now? After everything that’s happened?” Seokjin asks.

“I don’t know, depends on what she wants too, I guess,” Jungkook responds.

“Well, you didn’t even give her a chance to say anything so how would you know,” Jimin states the obvious. 

Jungkook lets out a low growl. Of course he didn’t give you a chance to say anything because he left you hanging, all messages unopened, all calls unanswered. And then he left. He felt so brave walking on this undefined territory with you but chickened out the moment things got serious. 

“Look, just… give both of yourselves time. You can’t do much from here anyway, and you’re both too out of it right now to know what to do next,” Seokjin advises. He knows better than anyone that giving yourself time is most important.

“But what if she decides she doesn’t want any of this anymore? That she doesn’t wanna talk to me or have anything to do with me when I get back?”

“Yah! Give yourselves more credit. I know it’s hard but you need to have faith in your friendship, at least,” Jimin reprimands the younger boy. “We’ve still got over a month into this leg of the tour and that’s enough time to figure yourself out.”

Jungkook comforts himself with this thought. But can he manage spending all this time away from you, knowing he left things on a bad note? He can’t fault himself enough for how he left things, and now he has to put faith in your shared friendship that things were going to be okay. 

If you’re meant to be together, it’ll happen; that should be enough, right? He’ll go home soon, and he’ll see you at some point, that’s if you still want to see him. He just has less than 2 months to figure out what he wants, and moreso, what he could give. 

#

It’s been 6 weeks since that day at Jungkook’s house when he implied he had feelings for you. 

You know what else is nice? Calling me to come over on Friday nights when you didn't feel like being out, asking me to stay the night and having me sleep next to you, kissing me and saying you liked waking up next to me then telling me that ‘this feels nice and comfortable and fun’ and that I really am a great friend, he told you then. You were an idiot, that much you’ve figured out.

Other than busying you with a trip to the carnival, baseball nights, arcade Saturdays, and gallons of Baskin Robbins, your friends have done their part in helping you process your feelings and figure out exactly what you feel for the doe-eyed boy. 

They helped you backtrack, as if your story was some sort of mystery that needed clues that would eventually point to what you were looking for - the moment it all changed, for you and maybe for him, too. 

But you realized it wasn’t exactly a moment, it was a series of them - the first time he took you home when you were drunk, that night he came over when you were crying over your ex, when he sang to you over the phone because the thunder was scaring you, when you cried together after rewatching Avengers: Endgame for the nth time… when you first kissed and he tasted of beer and his strawberry chapstick, when you kissed the second time and he didn’t pull away. 

You let yourself drown in those little kisses more than you care to admit. It was all you could give him and you felt it was all he could give in return. You both never went past that act; on your end it was because you knew that anything beyond that would lead to wanting more, something you knew he couldn’t give, something you told yourself not to expect. 

He’d come over whenever he could when you asked, he’d stay over when it was okay to do so. You ask once and nothing more, nothing more than a peck on the lips, nothing more than a Friday evening or a Sunday morning, nothing more than a quick hug, nothing more than a “thank you.”

You knew all this, hence, why you conditioned yourself to think that what you both were was all that you could ever be. He told you once that relationships tend to get messy and he already has enough crazy to deal with. That stuck with you, and perhaps that’s when your mind made the decision to not look at him as anything more. 

But you still kept pushing it, subconsciously you think, knowing there was still an invisible line you shouldn’t cross. You kept doing what you wanted, just waiting for him to say no, but he never did. He never does. He’s always quick to make it up to you when he turns you down. 

This thought suddenly makes you angry. Why didn’t he just say no? That would’ve been better, you think. He could’ve just rejected you instead of coaxing you into this unfamiliar and undefined territory. Now you’re both stuck, unsure of what to do next. You carved this out though, you remind yourself. 

Anything “more” with him was definitely not an option, so you created your own path towards something that isn’t “more,” just something short of it. 

You look over the last communication you had with him. You sent him a message, a few days after he left when you’d had some sense knocked into you, apologizing. That’s all you could’ve given him then, an apology. Not an acceptable explanation, not a promise, not a solution or a way out; just an apology, in hopes that it would be enough.

You sent him a “Happy birthday, I hope you enjoy today!” greeting coupled with a photo of a cupcake with a candle you’d bought just for him on that first week of September. He replied but a “Thank you.” Nothing more.

Seokjin and Jimin reached out to you too, in the days following Jungkook’s departure. They’re letting him deal with it in whatever way works for him, they said. The priority is making sure he’s at his best for the shows, for the fans. You understood this, of course. The stage is where he’s at his happiest. You’re glad he’ll always have that. 

The guys will be resting at least a week after they get back before preparing for the final 3 days of the tour in Seoul. You don’t have long before then. 

The day after Jungkook left, you had that epiphany moment with Hyejin where she told you that perhaps you’d just done whatever you wanted because you wanted everything and nothing at the same time but couldn’t commit to either. You thought you had everything figured out without realizing that in fact, you didn’t. You had 2 months to figure your shit out, and you did.

It was that one afternoon when you absentmindedly picked up banana milk at the supermarket when you intended to just get chocolate milk at the dairy section. It baffled you when you opened your eco bag to see the yellow box, as if the universe was playing a trick on you. You stared at it like it had grown eyes or something, until you realized the other items in your refrigerator, your pantry, your counter that was all for him. 

His favorite cereals on the top shelf, his Nutella and banana beside your peanut butter, his favorite biscuits in the cabinet, the mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. Even his favorite toothpaste is in your bathroom. 

And you smiled. You smiled at how silly you seemed. It’s not just that you couldn’t get the thought of him off you, it’s that you didn’t want to. You’d willingly let him be a part of your life, of your everyday. 

You miss him so much, more than you thought you ever could. All you want to do is talk to him even if you’re hurt and angry and upset. You just want him, even if things are confusing. You just want him even if you don’t know what he’s feeling after everything. 

You want it to work, no matter what it takes. You won’t walk away from this if it doesn’t work out the way you normally do. You’ll stay and try until it does, hoping to all that is good that he feels the same way.

#

As the end of September rolls in, the feelings of fear, anxiety, and excitement start to engulf you. They’ll be back soon, and Jimin had said he’ll message once they arrive. You’d given each other time; the two months felt like two years. That should be enough. 

You’re lounging at your terrace, Sunday night in full swing for those with interesting and put-together lives unlike you. And then your phone beeps, signaling a message.

JM: Hi, Y/N. We’re home!

##

part 2 drabble <<>> part 4

series masterlist

[incarnateirony]

15.15: The Absent Mother

I’ve had to take a great deal of time to pull my thoughts together on this episode because it was so MUCH. I’ve said in the past that I wasn’t a fan of Davy; he often layered his things very thinly. But today was a masterfully interwoven piece to the point I literally watched another show for an hour while thinking about it, went and took a shower for half an hour to scrub my head clean, and came back to this and STILL sat to write about it.

So if you’re new to my meta, I’m going to break the ice. You need to read my The Generational Family post to dip your toes in. It speaks in plain english things that will be less-plain english in this post.

If you’re less-new to my meta, but often floating in the occult references, I’m going to try to drop links to posts or tag folders of references.

But what a fantastic salute to the Empress this entire episode is.

Now let’s dive in.

It’s no secret my blog bangs on about arcana on the regular. I have spoken of the four colors (represented in the above gif but also frequenting the #hues of involution tag). 

Frankly, I consider it invariable that the brother focused episode will summon forth The Emperor as a key focus. Somewhere in that chaos binder of tags I even predicted that much when I saw the color themes of the episode, but that’s a whole other aside--just something to put a pin in the idea of while I speak of the Empress, and the Generational Family.

(15.16 update: hahahahah)

I’ve gone feral

BACK TO ORIGINAL 15.15 POST

Some time back I had made a post about Castiel’s tie to this path; be that his frequent association with Mary over time (be it storyline parallels in general arc, John and Mary’s meeting, mixtapes or whatever else); that he and Rowena served as mirror and foil from her earliest conception, back when his parental storylines hovered more in regret over Claire; that Amara and her forced bond were associations of the profound bond and many lines directly mirrored while other motions challenged each other (Eg, heart tie, profound bond>mark bond);

I even made a joke at one point that Castiel should wear a pink trenchcoat to match Rowena’s dress.

This, of course, I joked equally was absurd, and that we would probably have to settle for the violet-pink light of Death on both him and Dean in 15.13′s alchemical Marriage of the Minds.

This Marriage of the Minds you’ll find plenty of topic on for my blog, and all in association with the Art arcana, from which the Occultum is drawn to begin with in its concept. This may seem like a long drift aside from the episode itself, but is more a preface of discussion based reminders.

Either way, @meta-mania-spn​ outright trolled in to my trenchcoat joke with this when it was released, saying “here’s your pink trenchcoat.”

And how on point you were!

But I’m going to have to ask fandom to do me a favor before we continue any further in this discussion.

I’m going to need you to stop trying to shove everything in singular boxes applicable to one and only-one storyline. Go back to the Generational Family post. Make sure that’s anchored like, in your subconscious at this point. Know it, feel it. 

Okay, now we can continue.

Hah hah “You’re standing in The Trap zone.” Okay.

So obviously, we have two major story ends going on right now: On the one hand, Sam and Dean go have a discussion to Amara where they plan to lie to her to pull off a stunt against Chuck; on the other hand, we have Castiel and Jack working a case. This seems simple enough in our structure.

Amara’s face of this ends up being entirely reflection. Of her cosmogenic origins (”We are the same.”), We Are Twins (I point to Thoth’s use of the twins in generational storytelling), etc. Of her history with Dean. Of her reasons of bringing Mary back.

Fandom may not like her reasons for bringing Mary back. They may even hate them. And we’ll get back to this later, but this is the sum of this.

On the other hand, Cas and Jack think a demon is involved. They even summon one. Turns out Rowena, in taking over hell, has adopted a new system. No more tricking and damning souls. People end up where they belong. The demon is bored (which has a funny shout out at the end on him trying to find a new purpose--as a cop, which is about six levels of commentary but I digress), but the continued path of Rowena renovating hell from welcome meetings for damned souls to lack of intentionally dragging others down is made clear, while evoked.

I point back to Rowena’s own history: at one point she aspired for power, but after Funeralia, she was stricken with guilt and grief over feeling like she abandoned her son. This is a thread that I have tried to put in videos over time as a still-binding tie; Castiel staring into Belphegor’s husked out eyes at one point, even if it wasn’t really his fault, just as we lost Rowena who went to essentially reclaim her son’s legacy and throne since she couldn’t atone for his loss.

But then we get to the case. It’s a whole long adventure, much of which has some bog-standard casework; we do have Castiel coming to speak that he found new meaning in becoming a parent (rolling back to the parental thread), and there’s a bunch of great imagery we’ll cover below. But before we get to that, let’s focus on the resolution.

It reveals a broken family structure: Mother was sick and felt shoved away, Father Changed Things, and the child ended up on a destructive path about following god.

Now when I talk about not boxing things in on one level, I’m going to break down this family a bit.  We’ll also just totes ignore the Joseph-the-Carpenter tattoo on the pastor that clearly has NOTHING to do with Joseph behind Dean only an episode ago and the entire Emperor theme with the sun behind his head. After the whole Mary behind Cas thing. Nope, nothing to see here. Has NOTHING to do with the generational stuff I’m about to talk below. That’d be silly right?

You also have to think of it this way. If Pastor Joe (yes that’s his FKING name) a parallel, so is his dead wife. There are levels where it was felt she was mocked, and pushed away, which tied into Amara this episode. You have your Chuck and Amara level parallel. However, on the emotional level, the mother figure that Castiel actually ends up representing is also coming due to be absent. And this is about the father's atonement with that just as much as it is with Dean having his dialogue with Amara.

On many levels. Dean and Amara’s dialogue trades of old grudges, old motivations, but also current events and learning to live in the now. 

The child, however, was still stuck in the past--a past the mother who told her to believe in God seemed to want, but the same kind of duty Castiel became aware of needing to change in the past. But she got stuck in it.

While she judged people by their sins, Jack and Castiel end up finding the poor unfortunate man judged by Lust, after an entire aside Castiel had with the pastor about one of the victims struggling as a gay man and what-not; For Reasons(TM). But this is an arcana post, not a “point out the obvious fucking screaming queer text and subtext being put in blinker lights this episode” post, so I’m going to generally show that the misguided and wrathful child thought she was carrying out God’s will.

And then I direct you to my Lust tag.

I have far longer stuff on it, but if you skim, you’ll find the loudest message is about not letting a wrathful god judge or punish you for sins. It involves the Whore of Babylon as a symbol of power riding a beast that represented (Aleister) Crowley; or in this case, Rowena riding Crowley to power, but also birthing and rearranging a new world. I point back to the demon in question, and then I gesture to the stuff about Castiel’s impending storyline overlap.

Did other sins get punished, sure; the one girl got greed, for example. If you check my posts on the Lust topic, there are other forms of debauch actually associated with lust beyond just carnal lovers, but the message about ignoring god’s wrath and making the new world remains in-tact.

This is the kind of wrath enacted by the girl. Who is furious about how the aeon changed. Because you changed everything, dad. They don’t worship God, they worship You.

So here’s the fun question: Is this a child of man furious that man is no longer the true god because Chuck in the corrupted Emperor path has changed the world to his whims, just flipped? That is to say, that they no longer see the Shadow as The One True God? Or is this someone throwing a tantrum on Chuck’s behest that the world of man is being reclaimed? Or is it a generalized moral of all of these things contingent on the choices The Ones -- Sam and Dean -- make moving forward? And what of Jack inevitably feeling like he has to do Dean’s commands, with the task laid out to destroy God as mapped by Death, in the inevitable absence of Castiel?

Now this has drifted a wide-berth from speaking of the Empress herself, which I’ll roll back to. I had mentioned, for example, the pink. So let’s talk about why that is.

The Empress is the Matron. While she goes through many forms, this is sort of the central or individualized one. She represents a fertility in preparing to birth the new world. She holds a blossom, she takes a pose I’m not gonna bother breaking down in this post, and she is crowned in a sphere that is passed to her from the Emperor which she will wear until the next aeon from their union is born.

She is represented by the moon, and though her child will eventually become the new sun it must first be the earth, her emperor is her current sun; the son is the reflection of the father in the eyes of the mother; the Empress Moon lets the Emperor Sun shine on her face and brings life to the earth in their union, and again, I point back to the Marriage of the Minds post.

Now, see that bird in the corner? That’s a pelican. It’s frequently associated in old alchemy as the mother giving her life, as part of the birthing process is also death, for her next generation. I have spoken in the past that Byzantium itself is an ideal example of that. The pelican has intensive alchemical implications, but it was believed she “fed her child from her own heart.”

Okay cool so there’s just a bleeding heart right there while Jack struggles with feeling like he has to deal with this alone, while Castiel tries to insist he doesn’t, with the renegade child taking it upon herself to carry out god’s work and essentially going mad/bad. Castiel not wanting to let that all fall on Jack.

There’s also giant posters about THE WORLD and a mirror shadow Safe Place poster which I’m not even going to talk on much beyond gesturing vaguely at my Shadow tag and Universe tag and move on, but I will take particular note of the hands reaching out to Cas and the world as a vague gesture to once again stick a pin in.

I mean there’s a few other themes I’m going to point out for general notes: hearts everywhere,

Some stuff on Day and Night and hands all over/handholding, which I’ll point to my talk on Absence for false dichotomies

And an admittedly offtopical “lmao fuck this news screen”

But with that, I move forward:

The child here was dressed almost EERILY like Mrs Butters, for the record. And uh-- /wore her cross upside down/

They both kind of represent the same thing of misguided ideals, though Mrs Butters proved able to be reasoned with at the end and went to go return to nature where she belonged, just as man should return to his place some day free of god’s machinations; but she didn’t break her cycle and her fate is to be decided after this by court and what-not, which.. you know, fine.

But that’s a note worth passing re: Mrs Butters, but again, it needs to fall to generational; child vs parent, with Mrs Butters being the lightly lamia-associated elder who lost her sons and went mad trying to protect them according to how she had been commanded, just like this story, too, comes to misguided commands in absence.

Add in of course that Butters pointed out Jack was “too much like his father”. This, of course, was a shot at Lucifer in a way, but the serpent she evoked isn’t truly symbolic of Lucifer in our show, it’s about humanity. And uh, who is synonymous synced to in SPN? Even ignoring the relevance of the serpent to the Emperor? 

Throughout this episode, Jack waltzes around imprinted on habits from Dean, taking on the weight of the world, sacrifice, doing it alone, and inevitably, small bursts of anger.

While... Amara tracks and polka dances sideways across the Mary issue of idealizations vs realities, of the Now being more important than the Then. Fandom gets stuck on how unfair it was to Dean and considers it torture which, human perspective, fair. But Amara isn’t thinking on your human level. In fact she very loudly flags around how Dean (and frankly, the audience) doesn’t properly perceive the scope of what she even is. 

Castiel, driving home, continues to try to be an improved parent. He talks with Jack, and tries to tell him he doesn’t have to do this alone. But Jack is stuck in that rut, and it’s a rut Castiel knows too well. He’s walked these paths and the audience has walked these paths and he can’t let the child handle this alone, though Jack declares it isn’t his choice. Jack has surrendered to what he believes Death commands of him, what the job is.

It’s going to be about choice.

But right now, Jack is too much like his father. And I point back to the Moon, who lets the Sun shine on her face, perceiving the world as a reflection of the Father, of Soul in the eyes of the Mind. This is the path to teach their son to avoid just as much.

Meanwhile, Castiel is punched in the FACE basically by Jack saying not to tell Sam and Dean he’s turning into Soul Bomb Take 2. He doesn’t want to worry them over something he can’t do anything about. Congratulations, Castiel is now living the mirror of Jack knowing the Empty deal and Sam and Dean not being told, and you can SEE the reality of it ALL slam him in the face. Not just because Jack blowing up would negate the point of his sacrifice; I don’t know if that even really plinks his mental armor; but the actual magnitude of that kind of secret.

Burying my clown brain’s fierce desire to talk at length of small details like Cas opting not to wake Dean up in the room, we see a recursion-yet-subversion at the end. 

We cut off, here, abruptly. In context of the episode, we know Castiel has at least learned one lesson and is going to try to tell Dean about his deal. But on some level, this all enmeshes thoroughly to Castiel’s Empty deal. Do I think Cas is going to tell the Empty deal in 16? No, I’m gonna guess on some level Sam gets his hands on it around 17 maybe, or nobody at all finds out--or at least Dean himself doesn’t find out--until 18.

In that time they *still* will not have stopped Chuck, that won’t be until 19. So I really wish this arm flailing about “oh god they’re making it all about Cas saving Jack and then dropping it!” would stop because man guys, I’m tired, I’ve been writing you the roadmap on this for two years and haven’t failed yet, pls listen.

Even after episode 18, Castiel’s role is inevitably going to be to take the burden from Jack. ...And Dean will too, but you won’t really even start to wrap your heads around the how and the why until at *least* 16 covers the Emperor path better in scale of the generational family. That’s going to be a joint thing.

Yes, I’m saying that’s going to be a joint thing after the Empty.

The show has taken a highlighter repeatedly to the fact that Jack was neither ready to rule or remove Chuck and that it was all a bad idea. Like “Then who?!” yes HMMM WHO. 

Who is sitting here following the path of all of these individuals in this very episode? Do I need to gesture people to literal years of Castiel being associated with every one of these women’s central stories in my meta, make everyone read literal compendiums of it to get the where and why, or is it at least enough in the collective subconscious to be recognized?

What is Rowena doing? What is Rowena doing, right now? She unbirthed an entire realm and is restructuring it; where people go only where they deserve to go, where they aren’t as boxed in but certainly aren’t out there being shitheads for the sake of being shitheads. But man, if only there was SOME ONE ELSE lined up on this whole lunar path, somewhere, with these women.

(For more on the blossom, see my Albedo tag)

For the full context and, frankly, mental breakdowns about 15.13 and what all that amounted to, I point you to the tags I linked above in discussion and lead-in to this post, because I’m not going to re-tread that ground right now.

But Castiel’s deal has always been about saving Jack. Castiel has been the Empress all year and before it. He will continue to be the empress, symbolized as feeding her young from her own heart, and--well, like that above gif (and also like 15.09, but with Sam in that generational rotation), receiving the sphere from the Emperor (Dean) and passing it to the new aeon to be reborn. Jack is the new Aeon. the mother will protect this at any cost.

But I don’t know why fandom pole vaults into assuming then that the Emperor suddenly has no place in this fascinatingly interwoven play. They are part of this cooperative birthing process together. Even in and beyond Death. As it is, there’s parts of Jack’s resignation that will inevitably tie to Castiel with Dean in 18.

As always, the case is a warning tale, but just what side of it you take really depends on where the characters choose to step. Is it a warning of man stepping away from god or god changing the rules on man? 

Even Amara’s message is multifaceted: Knowing when to walk away on your own path is not the same as betraying someone. And it’s only going to be by Dean’s manipulation that she would consider it, while he is in fact lying to her; but that’s NOT going to come without a long term price. And frankly, is itself a message for the endgame of this show, with some people thinking taking ones’ own path is tantamount to betrayal. It is not. But what matters it the truth. And the choice. And remembering that we all have a choice.

And what of Cas, after the Empty then?

My soul went to heaven, big surprise.

In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.

To know what he, himself, is also worth, Castiel will have to make that place within himself. And that will also be the place for his child, and his family, and humankind as he has come to adopt as his people.

...But there was a two step phase to that spell and I remind you Rowena wasn’t alone in that image.

The pink of fertile rebirth.

For more on the Empress, click here. 

Anyway

#CASTIELSUTERUS2020

[sweetsubharry]

Do you know of any good Larry fics where one of them is in a abusive relationship and the other saves them from it? Thanks!

I do! 

I want to say though; I went through a rough time in my life and it was definitely a coping mechanism for me to read stories like this, so considering the severity of the topic I just wanted to make it extra clear that everyone should read the tags please! <3 if it will not benefit you to read these, please don’t! I can make you a fluffy no hurt comfort request if needed!

HERE is a list for a lot of useful helplines for different areas and reasons!! xx and I’m here if anyone has any raised queries from this :)

once again, please read the tags and stay safe everyone!  💖

These are not in any order but I will say the first five are ones I still often think about, they definitely leave an impression and rebuilt my soul in different ways x

run through rivers and smile by bravestyles 

Harry is stuck in a long-term abusive relationship with his abusive boyfriend Sam. His friends try to help him out of it; along the way, Louis and Harry become closer.

breathe into me and make me real by greeneyedstranger

Harry's fading away, bit by bit everyday, and all he can feel is numb. He finds Louis, who's like sunshine, bright and glowing, and smells like red velvet cupcakes and whipped cream.

Petrichor by spotofpurple

Harry is a filthy rich, straight A student that lives in one of the biggest mansions in London with his father. He is also bullied and beaten in school and neglected at home.Louis is a quirky punk who owns a bookshop and sings in a rock band. He is also providing a cover for the two of the most wanted of London’s criminals, Zayn and Niall.When Harry has a panic attack in front of Louis’ bookshop and the older boy helps him, a weird friendship is formed. And soon developed into something neither of the boys expected.

Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou

'Just like a little cat,' Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. 'A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.' It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all. ............. Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

It's A Start by Magiic_Shop

“This is dangerous, love,” Louis smirked, his lips pressed against Harry’s shoulder blade.

“Why’s that?” Harry asked.

“Because,” Louis’ smirk grew into a smile, “I might never want to let you go.”

Harry shifted against Louis, reaching up to cover Louis’ hand on his stomach with his own, “Then don’t.”

--

Or, the one where Harry can't sleep at night, and because of that, neither can Louis. Louis thinks it could be the start of something.

There is a Rose That I Want to Live For by Yourfavouritechild

How long has the sun been gone from his life. When did the sky fall down. When did the air become so heavy, wrapping around Harry, forcing him to collapse like an old star.

or, Trapped in an abusive relationship, Harry contemplates suicide until a punk rocker enters his life and pulls him up before he drowns.

keep me safe inside your arms by stylinson

When Louis first noticed it he thought nothing much of it, because Harry was just an all-around sweet and caring person, and it made him fall even more in love with him...until it got to a point where Louis realized that Harry was almost too eager to do what he was asked.

You are a lovely adjective, no word ever enough by angelichl

"I love you, Louis thinks now, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue. Willing them to spill out. But he knows that if he spills these treacherous thoughts out loud, Harry will panic. Maybe he'll even run away, like he ran away form The Monster.

I love you, Louis wants to tell him anyway. Wants to whisper it into his hair, kiss it onto his cheekbones, breathe it down his throat.

Instead he chews on his nail and says nothing."

The hurt/comfort AU in which Harry leaves away an abusive relationship, and Louis offers to share his flat

love is so good when the love is young by drunkonyou

Louis falls for his pregnant best friend who has a bit of baggage. They make it work though.

Hideaway. by arrowtomyheart

Harry is in a borderline abusive relationship which ends after the news that Harry's pregnant. He is homeless for the night and travels 3 hours on the train to turn up at his best friend's Liam's house unexpectedly for somewhere to stay. He meets Louis, Liam's flatmate, and they discover that they have more in common that anyone would expect. They fall in love.

It's the Sun In Your Eyes by Bearandleonardwrite

Harry's not the best with relationships. Then he finds Louis.

(Basically; Harry's insecure and hurt, but Louis loves him anyways and knows how to help.)

Shine Like Silver by asphodelknox

Sometimes what you never thought you needed is exactly what you need. Sometimes it's right in front of you. Harry find love when he's broken and abandoned, in the one place he never thought to look. Although once he figures it out, he's really not surprised.

on a wednesday, in a cafe by wreckedboyfriends

“What can I get for you today?” he asked without looking up, arranging the last of the pastries.

“Have any recommendations? Never been here before, actually.” Harry hit his head on the top of the case in his haste to look at the source of the voice. It was a really beautiful voice, small and high and just lovely, if a voice could be lovely. Harry thought so. “Alright, mate?” the man asked when Harry finally composed himself, rubbing the top of his head as he took his place at the register.

Harry opened his eyes, and fuck. If Harry had thought his voice was lovely, the man himself was on a whole other level. “Alright, mate?” He repeated and shit. Harry had been openly staring for quite awhile, hadn’t he?

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and it came out sounding like a semi trailer running over gravel. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Um, the cherry danish is quite good, I think. ’S my favorite.”

The man smiled. “One cherry danish it is, then.”

OR Harry’s spent the last year with six locks on his door, a pair of too-flamboyant boots buried in the back of his closet, and insecurity issues the size of a mammoth. Louis changes some of that, but Harry changes the most.

drain the whole sea by brainwaves

For a great chunk of his life, Harry has had a passion for writing, a passion that turned into an aspiration, which turned into a dream he’s been chasing for the past few years, first in the States and now in a shitty flat in London. None of his attempts to get anywhere have succeeded, leaving him with weary bones and two dead-end jobs that he doesn’t enjoy in the slightest. When he finds an unusual yet promising opportunity that could possibly get him somewhere and help him further his current failure of a writing career, he doesn’t hesitate to take it. Despite his boyfriend Sam’s pleading, he lets this dream bring him to the luxurious yet quaint home of world-renowned, best-selling author Louis Tomlinson.

love is blind (it will take over your mind) by babygrxxt

a story in which louis moved to paris to get away and is now working a nine to five job he hates, niall can’t speak french, zayn is so far gone for a boy he doesn’t even know and the pink of harry’s lips stands out even more against the purple of a bruise

Stop Making Tired Excuses by midnightskies

Louis hates many things; cold tea, countdown, tuesdays, and university, but most of all he absolutely, categorically despises Eric Davidson, current boyfriend of Harry Styles.

Keep Me From Falling Apart by sweetly_disposed

Harry shrugs, nicking a biscuit from the tin on the table. "Here." He holds out the styrofoam cup he's carrying. "Hot chocolate, double whipped cream." "Oh my god. You're perfect," Louis moans, taking it from him and sniffing it appreciatively. Harry blushes and stuffs the rest of the biscuit in his mouth to stop him from saying something totally ridiculous like 'you're perfect, too'.

Or, Harry doesn't think he needs help, until there's Louis.

Blue Eyes Like Blue Skies by sunflowerstyles

Harry's last relationship was horrific, leaving him with physical and mental scars. Louis comes into his life and does his best to treat Harry how he deserves.

[sly-merlin]

killing me - 8

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : cursing and mention of a knife.

words :: abt 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

 or              

                      “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​

@kafenetwork​​ @neowritingsnet​​

K.M masterlist

K.M 7   next

Loneliness. The sentiment long forgotten was kindled again. you were so sure that you were just numb to it by now, had hoped that you won’t be affected by that ever again but the compass was directing to all the wrong sides. To experience what you first did 20 years ago was not something you were ready for but given a thought, it would never be.

This could be counted as your longest ride to the university. You felt sick to your stomach but there was no other place for you to go, no person either. It was in the heat of the moment, you realised that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You needed someone as a confidant. You closed your eyes, sitting in the bus, recalling everyone but came out blank. Not that you lacked reliable company but there was more than one valid ground to oust the thought of it.

With a head full of trouble, as you entered the university, wonwoo messaged you to meet up. For him, your class was still in progress so you decided to consider the offer.

You and wonwoo were friends or fwb to be precise, with a strong year history. However, that couldn’t eliminate the significance of the word friend. You could always rely on him, he himself had affirmed that occasionally, your trust in him being the foundation brick of the relationship. Maybe he could offer you the consolation you craved right now or maybe his embrace would make you forget it completely.

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

You stumbled as a tap on the shoulder startled you, but it was only wonwoo.

“Finally! Don’t you miss me even a tiny bit!” he announced while hugging you tightly. “Let’s sit on the bench.”

He took off your bag, working on loosening the straps that were already annoying him.

“how many times do I have to tell you! Wear the bag on one side , don’t tighten them or better,just quit wearing these tops baby” he nagged , looking at you but your eyes were fixated on the trees ahead. the uncertain look on your bare face was making him a bit uneasy. In addition, you did not throw killer eyes at him for calling you baby. And you looked sober. Something was definitely off.

“What’s wrong y/n. you look tired. I mean you are a forever grandma but seriously! Tell me what’s bothering you?” hearing the sincerity in his voice, you faced him, his signature honest smile releasing the tension in your body.

Facing him properly, you put the bag behind you. He was still grinning stupidly. You briefly glanced at him, brain continuously yelling to fuck taeyong’s deal and just tell him everything. Nothing was holding you back now.

Before you could utter anything, the layer of leaves on wonwoo’s head drew your attention. You reached out to remove them, but he caught your hand midway. His hand covered yours entirely as he started placing little kisses on the inside, lips travelling from the palms to the fingers and there he stopped abruptly, a squeal left his mouth at the metal touch.

“A ring. Wow. So, the great y/n knows that the shoes aren’t the only thing available in shops!” he exclaimed, chuckling loudly.

You tried to pull your hand but he did not let go. He observed it closely with a frown settling upon the previous happy face. You yanked your hand again forcibly, this time he complied.

“I have something to tell you.” You mumbled softly.

“it’s a diamond y/n.” his statement took you off guard.

“I have something important to discuss woo.”

“ it’s a diamond ring y/n!” he repeated with a lot more emphasis, voice still polite. But you got exactly what he was hinting at.

“would you hear me out. Please!” instead of denying, you tried to negotiate.

“no. first answer me. From whom did you accept it? Yugyeom? Jungkook? Minnie?”

You were left stunned at his sudden accusatory tone.

“fucking do me a favour and shut up for a sec woo!” this time your words were laced with frustration.

“oh wow” he scoffed before continuing, “ what are you here for! To inform me that you have finally found someone to settle down!”

“what! No! Why are you dramatizing so much over a bloody ring! I need you to use your ears and not mouth! For once please.” Your anger got the best of you as you yelled at him. He stood up, shielding you from the sunrays.

“you can’t possibly explain anything! I just don’t wanna talk right now.” And with that he walked away before you could give him the justification he deserved.

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

you woke up around 1 p.m. in the library, exactly same place where you decided to sleep away your troubles, like always. After stretching your arms, you activated the phone which has been switched off earlier. As you watched the screen coming alive, wonwoo’s conversation made way to your now empty head. You weren’t so sure anymore that he could be trusted with any restrictive information. If you expose him to all what has happened, you’d be doing more harm than good. Love makes one foolish. And you’d rather die by blocking yourself than have him face the outcome.

Did that mean you loved him?

no. you shook your head at the thought. Love is a strong feeling. Especially the one he had showed you all this time.

Yes. You did love him. A lot. Just not in the way he did. But at this rate, you couldn’t say you if you deserved his love.

Multiple beeps broke out your train of thoughts. You were sure everyone was finding the culprit of breach of silence in the library. So you duck yourself into the desk to hide.

7 calls from johnny. 2 from minjun. 4 messages from johnny.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, opening the messages.

Johnny : did you reach safely!

Johnny : hey, pick up the phone.

Johnny : for once

Johnny : nobody ignores the john don. Don’t break my streak and call me back. Today! Or else I’m coming home. Make sure the dinner is ready!!!!!!!!!!!

Simply rolling your eyes, you recklessly threw the phone back in the bag, walking for the international relations section to get some work done. The second best distraction in life – research.

***********

The day was a complete loss.You didn’t study, pretended half day that you were finding a topic in the library but ended up reading animal farm again. Now you were home and with god’s grace, yuta was not back yet. Tossing the bag on bed, you changed down to cotton shorts and a tank top, ready to make a sandwich to eat as a starter before attacking the icecream you got earlier.

Big T.V, sandwich, ice cream, itaewon class, everything sans yuta was worth living these days. So enjoy it while it lasts. You slouched more into the couches as gaho’s start over played, the melodious voice slowing fading your bitter day.

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

Yuta was just ready to sleep when he came back home. The idea of three hour training session after a week gap was certainly a crazy one but he realised it only when the deed was done. Now he badly wanted to go into hibernation mode.

Crossing the hallway, he saw the t.v playing gangnam style but noone was there except a white comforter. Upon inspection, he found you sleeping peacefully on your stomach curled up into a ball. He made a few sounds of displeasure at your figure before turning the device off. He was about to leave when something else caught his eye. Green tea ice cream.

He picked up the sealed cup, it was not fully frozen but still chilled enough. Maybe due to the air con. But he was happy. Now he could eat or drink his favourite ice cream and blow a fuse simultaneously. Ofcourse yours! He placed an envelope on the table and went away with the ice cream while not putting the lights out, that too intentionally ofcourse.

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

Tuesday

Awakened by the rooster, you found yourself in the same position as yesterday. The cramp in the neck was now past the pain stage. It was numb to the point that sleeping on other side won’t help either. Supporting the neck with your palm, you started collecting the mess you had made on the table. Remote , plates, empty ice cream cup, the plastic spoon.

Weren’t there two cups???

Or maybe you just slept too much.

You came back from the kitchen to discover an envelope. A dL enevelope specifically.

Nakamoto y/n

-nonghyup financial group.            

It was addressed to you! .But you didn’t receive anything of that sort the other day so that meant it definitely involved yuta. And it was from a bank. You didn’t even have an account in that bank.

Nakamoto y/n my ass. You muttered bitterly before opening it. There were some promotional coupons, a small guide on how to open an account. You scoffed at the unnecessary stuff that was giving away nothing. Then you saw it.

A MasterCard. With your name. new name!

You gave the package a once over before closing it again, putting it in the original position. You were fully capable to survive on your own, there was no need for taeyong or yuta’s mercy when it was essentially to fulfil their own feeble ego. It felt like a kick to your noble gut!

Ignoring it completely, you went to wash up hurriedly so you could get out of his hair before he could attempt to spoil your mood any further. When you came back, a very unfamiliar sight astounded you. A man with deep blue suit stood in the kitchen with his back to you and if it was not for his blonde hair, he could easily be mistook for some gentleman. Due to the light blending sound of the juicer, he had missed your incoming. As you passed the sink to get to fridge, dirty dishes caught your eyes that he still hadn’t washed. You were not going to put your hands in his mud and before he could order,you told him off.

“ clean after yourself before leaving or it’ll stink in here.” You quietly said as you washed the oranges for breakfast.

“whaattt?” he asked like you were speaking some gibberish.

“I said clean these dirty dishes”

“Says who!” he raised a brow at you. “the one who was sleeping in the trash herself!”

“what trash? Oh! That was just a plate. And worry about yourself, I know how to wash mine!” you replied continuing the peeling.

“huh! Don’t boss me around. あなたは私の母ではありません!” before you could ask him what he muttered, he threw something on the pile. You slightly winced at the clatter but didn’t turn around and let him leave.

You examined the mess. The noise producer was a glass. The juicer was also filled with vegetable residues. One could only hope that he would take up your suggestion or you would be banning yourself from the kitchen, for ever!

You were peeling the second orange when he came out of his room and rushed out like his tail was on fire. A frustrated sigh left you as you took in the state he left the kitchen in but you were not going to be his maid. If he wanna eat, he could do it himself.

After breakfast, you did some finals revision which were approaching in three weeks but not like you were not prepared. All the papers were submitted, just the thesis topic submission was left which everyone else was already done with. Even jungkook. But you were instead going to use the day to make up with chelin.

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

The day went as fine as it could. Chelin agreed to go shopping with you but it took more than just a takeout to sincerely apologise this time. She denied you half day, making you race for her forgiveness but eventually gave in at the end, with terms and conditions of course.  

You studied till late night but didn’t hear yuta returning. But the next morning you knew that he didn’t arrive at all. And in exasperation and for your own well being, you cleaned the sink to remove the stench. As much as you wanted to call taeyong, he won’t be helping you in anyway, that you were sure about. He pretended to take your side but at the end he was always yuta’s brother. And you were just a nobody.

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

Wednesday 3:43

 Johnny: where are you? Answer me asap.

  You : I’m studying. Don’t disturb me!

Johnny: sure. Don’t show me tantrums and come out. i’m waiting

You : waeyoo??

You groaned at the message. Avoiding him was no more an option!

You : where are you? I’m already on the pavement.

You looked around for a tall figure but he was nowhere to be seen.

“you are alive!” johnny jested, turning you with your shoulders to face him. He was clad in off white button down and white pants, making your worn out self feel like a beggar.

“you tracked me again?”

“woahh! You hit my generosity with a shit face! Expected better from you.”

“ did. You. track. Me .johnny!”

“you started it by not replying. I was worried!” he defended himself a bit comically.

“I swear I’m going to drown this bracelet in a sewage!” you bellowed while getting out of his grip.

“you know you can’t do that and it’s waterproof and maybe gutterproof as well so think harder about throwing it. Hyuck would find it eventually and make you wear the same piece!.”

Scrunching your nose in disgust, you muttered a curse at him which only earned a chuckle from him.

“why are you here anyway.”

“for shopping.”

“what shopping?”

“clothes! Duh. You have a celebration to attend!”

You scoffed at his casual tone. “ what celebration johnny. I’m not doing another shit on taeyong’s order.” You declared, hands crossed on chest.

“it’s not something grand. Just a small get together of office workers and you know you can’t ditch tae.”

“office event! That’s another reason to avoid it. I would be alone with yuta and If you don’t know already, he literally pulls his knife at me everytime he sees me! He’ll k-

“I’ll be there.”

“oh so now this is an office event with family members! Good luck convincing me this time!”

“who said anything about attending as family.” He said, winking at you and dragged you by right arm towards his car. Once you were seated, you stopped him from going further.

“nope. Listen. Lemme think first , then I’ll decide what to wear on my own. If you have time, just drop me home. I’m hungry and I have some work to do.” You tiredly said, dropping your head on the seat. He could only chuckled at your antics.

“then we’ll eat something before shopping and I’m not hearing another word. Fasten your seatbelt lady, we are going on a highway to shopping!” you laughed at his cute shout and he took it as a signal to drive.

After insisting johnny that you were going to pay for your own dress, you both stopped at the mall food court to eat something. A full tummy rotated your mood 180 degrees and you were ready to have him pull you around. He dragged you from store to store to only end up doing window shopping until he found THE ONE! That was what he declared it to be!

You both went around different aisles to pick some clothes. Though you could afford those, you still didn’t had the heart to do so. Your precious money was going for what! Clothes?

After something like twenty minutes, you both met near the changing room as decided.

“Go change and give me a show. I don’t trust your old school brain.”

You huffed but did as he said.

He has gotten mixture of bright colours and soft shades, sleeveless and thin strapped, long dresses!

And the one you chose were south to his north. You wore one that you picked at first, a solid black knee length flowy skirt dress with long sleeves. It looked good on all the right places, so you went out to show him.

“how’s this?” you asked him excitedly but the mood died down seeing his dull expression.

“no! you ain’t wearing anything this short!”

“Knee length is not short johnny”

“change it!”

“uugghh!”

The next dress you wore was ivory draped puff long sleeve mini dress. You almost cooed at yourself but he rejected it again. at every dress you chose, he shook his head in disagreement.

“why don’t you try mine ones?” he quipped.

“um. I don’t wear sleeveless.soo..

“why? Those looks sexy girl!”

“no! get me anything quarter or long sleeved but not these thin straps and no questions coz I’m not answering any!” the questions in johnny’s head died down before he could even form them.

“okkk. No need to bite me over that. Wait lemme find something.”

You stood in the changing room for what felt like eternity when johnny finally called you out with his nosy loud voice.

“these!” he handed you two dresses and signalled to change.

“why are we hustling so much. It’s not like anyone’s gonna bother!” you said in a bored tone, feeling the heaviness of the dresses.

“just go already. I’m getting hungry again!”

Both of his dresses were beautiful. All the previous ones looked quite dull in comparison. And just by looking, you already knew what you wanted. as you took in your appearance after changing, a smile lit up on your face. It was a powder blue dress with golden embroidery. The plunging neckline with fitted waist accentuated your best features though it would only properly fit when you were not bloated from eating. Sheer elbow length sleeves with gold hid what you wanted to in the first place, so they were alright. The satin skirt was long , resting right against your legs, not too flowy but you could already imagine yourself in your black heels that would be hidden under the skirt ,yet complementing it perfectly.

you presented yourself in front of johnny.“I want this one.” You said, tightening your hair tie. he wordlessly walked towards you and removed it, setting your straight hair on your back instead.

“how do I look?” you questioned hopefully. His face adorned a very light smile but it still reached his eyes. He moved backwards and examined your form , pretending to be evaluating you with hands tucked in his pockets.

“you look like-” he paused before biting his lower lip as if finding something peculiar to say. “a woman.” He completed, gaze still fixed on your eyes.

“what! A woman. That’s all!! you are just like- just like yeong! Ugh” you stomped your feet before going back to change into original jeans. You were expecting some high quality comment but nevermind.

After you were gone, johnny couldn’t control his laughter. He knew his compliment was lame , heck it wasn’t even a proper compliment but he meant it. And it was not for the dress you wore but for the smile that he saw for the first time. He sighed before he saw you approaching.

“I’m also hungry. Let’s get takeout. Devil won’t be home. We can peacefully eat without interference.”

Johnny chuckled again before following you.

“hey, isn’t this one a bit expensive.” He enquired as the other dress was a bit cheaper.

“I don’t care. I’ll think of this as a long term investment.”

“how?”

“I’ll repeat it at your wedding!”

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

Your stomach growled loudly as you opened the door. Johnny tailed behind you with arms full of food and clothing bags. He went to kitchen as you proceeded to find your shorts, dying to get out of the hellishly tight jeans. Holding your hair in a low loose ponytail, you exited the bathroom only to find johnny standing there like a pole.

“what?”

“what! I gotta pee. Get out!” he pulled you out while entering himself.  You returned to the kitchen mumbling incoherently at johnny and opened the take out boxes. As you made your way for the couches, johnny shouted at you.

“you animal!”

“what? Did you call me?”

“you need to heat it first. I’m not gonna eat like an animal!”

You felt slightly unnerved when he extended his hand to carry them to the kitchen again. in no way you were going to stand near it so you transferred the boxes and made your way to the room.

“heat them. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“no wait! why are you always running?” he placed the boxes on counter in a swift motion and rushed for your door.

“why are you hiding now?” he asked knocking lightly, not sure if it was locked or just shut down.

“don’t you have food to heat?”

“oh so that’s your way of running from chores!” he dragged out the last words mockingly.

“no its not like that.” Your said in a small voice. “I’ve an irrational fear of beeps. So I can’t go near the microwave.” You mumbled, voice filled with embarrasement. You weren’t sure why you told him but the bullet was out now.

Johnny went quiet before opening the door to find you standing, head hung low. Taking your arm, he pulled you out of the room.

Now you were standing in front of the oven, scared if he was going to run a test on you. You tried to back away but he was quick in caging you with his long ass arms.

“here,” his finger pointed to a certain button, “this is a mute button. You can shut this damn thing dude. Were you living under a rock or something?” he screeched at you in a high pitched voice, making you wince. But you were stunned at the discovery and you were sure chelin was as illiterate as you were in this matter.

“is it also some expensive shit?”

“no dumbo. Most of these have a mute function. Either you were stupid or just unlucky to buy a wrong one. But what’s with the scare.” He asked with curiousness in his eyes.

You drew your eyes away, wishing he would let it go but his deep stare ultimately broke you.

“Umm old trauma,” you started , avoiding his eyes, “I was in the accident with my mama and dad.I don’t have vivid memories of it, the only thing I remember is the noise of ambulance, police, some shouting. Nothing more. When they took me to their hospital room ,maybe coz I was crying or something, they d-died in front of me. H-heart monitors. Beeping again. when first time mrs.park , my orphanage caretaker , took to me to kitchen to make me food, I screamed and lashed at her violently. A lot of teasing followed that incident, by the senior kids ofcourse. But its only limited to few things, I don’t get triggered by cars or music. And she never took me to kitchen after that, maybe that’s why I never overca-.” You faced him as you completed. “th-that’s the story.” Your voice came out as a harsh deep breath.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut from next time” He apologised, his hands sliding from the counter to your waist. “ I- let’s heat this. Your first time. I’ll show you how we use this high end gadget.” He suggested, lightening the atmosphere instantly.

“yeah. I’m very excited!” your words were cheerful but voice wasn’t. he gave you a full on tutorial like a salesman at which you nodded like a very compliant customer. Now you were waiting. Sometime while showing you, his arms had securely held you against the counter, comfortable smiles resting between you two. Johnny’s eyes scanned every feature of your face, in a gaze that was not very tricky to describe. Your own hands were resting on the counter, twitching under his scrutiny. You didn’t want to but couldn’t help thinking if he-

“Woah! What. Is. Happening?” yuta’s surprise entry alarmed you both as johnny levelled himself up, covering you from yuta’s inquisitive eyes.

“Nothing. you say? How was office.” Johnny inquired, immediately changing the subject.

“they love me. That’s enough for me. But what are you up to suh? He wiggled his brows, neck craning to indicate behind-the-scenes happenings.

“we-we went to shopping. And we were gonna eat now. You wanna join?

“shopping? What did you got? Condoms?” he whispered the last part with a devilish smile.

Johnny glared at yuta to which yuta answered with a tired look.

“enjoy yourself. it’s better that I sleep off whatever is gonna happen here. Just keep it low. I’m fucking exhausted and dead.” He retired saying it loudly enough for you to melt in humiliation but he didn’t know explicit comments won’t make you feel low in shame.

Johnny circled to face you after his departure, embarrassed eyes wandering all over the kitchen cabinets above your head.

“I’m not gonna touch it. get it out.” You motioned for the food that was burning in the heat, according to you.

“oh!”

You both went to couches to enjoy the food and talked for about 30 minutes more. It seemed like yuta was seriously out like a light. You laughed, ate, gossiped and when the session ended, he was well aware of your infatuation with certain kinds of drinks and you knew that hyuck was the stinkiest person on earth. All was well and he left, making you happy for the time being.

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

Friday

For the whole day, you were busy. Prof. kwang suddenly thought it was best to summon you to fill the absence of his assistant, adding fuel to misery. But you were able to function fully for you hadn’t  run into yuta in the last 24 hours. After completing the extra tutoring sessions, you finally arrived at the destination.

You ran out of the elevator as you were already late. Maybe beyond late. As your room keys jingled, a voice stopped you from turning the knob.

“you are late! We were supposed to be there at 7:30. Taeyong is gonna be pissed off at me now and all because of your shitty time sense.” He gritted his teeth,making you angry but when you turned around, you knew you had fucked up. He was fully ready in a black suit, hair swept back and all , like a gentleman but you didn’t get the time to admire him as the look in his eyes was literally enough to scare you.

“I’m a busy person. Just give me few minutes. I’ll be out.” You said quietly, not ready to start a verbal fight with a no-brain case.

“don’t do that.” he stopped you again from entering the room. “ take a shower first. You ain’t sitting in my car with that smell.”

You bit your lower lip to control the overwhelming urge to kick him in the balls for his hypocrisy and simply shut the door.

After a quick clean up, you changed into the blue dress, did some light makeup to hide the black holes under your eyes. Completing the look with red lip, you went out, bare handed.

Yuta was on the couch, playing some game when you saw him.

“aren’t we getting late or something?” you scoffed , standing in his vision. He sized you up as his pupils dilated. Not wanting to entertain him anymore, you treaded to find your heels. He joined you after a few minutes and within two minutes, you were out.

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

As you entered the decorated hall, you knew johnny made the event sound more smaller than it was. How you were going to survive the long night was beyond your imagination. Every corner of the room was filled with people chatting away with each other. The more you looked, the more you felt like an outsider. no familiar figure met your sight. The anxiety started creeping in and that’s when you saw someone approach you.

“fashionably late yuta! Its understandable though. Look at y/n. she looks so pretty!” taeil exclaimed, wiggling his brows at you.

“hurry up would you?” yuta said in irritation.

“nope. You are still my employee so tongue in your mouth. now let’s announce your arrival first.”

You followed him like a cat, only stopping somewhere at the centre of the room. You noticed that taeil’s footstops gathered attention like none other.he glanced around before clearing his throat as an indication for everyone to quiet down.

“I don’t need to tell anyone why we are here! But formality is a trend in business and I shall follow it to my deathbed,” a combined laugh followed from everyone but it seemed like an inside joke for you. “yuta nakamoto, our dear employee got hitched in a very intimate ceremony and don’t worry even I wasn’t invited! But tradition continues and here were are gathered to celebrate their happiness. He would be gone soon again so it’d be nice if you all give your wishes and blessings for their future. And I’ll also introduce y/n to the family. She is nothing but a charming woman and i hope she ditches others to join our company one day!” a round of applause followed and taeil cleared the path for everyone.

One by one, people loomed towards you to congratulate in their own way. A hand snaked around your waist, startling you momentarily. “just smile.” His whispered into your hair. You nodded before putting on the biggest smile possible for a person stucked in your position. A few stolen glances at him showed that he was also flashing a bright smile as he shook several hands. Some asked your name, some were interested in your occupation whilst one was interested in knowing the jeweller of your ring. You couldn’t say taeyong so you just waved it off with few giggles. Millions questions were running through your head and there was noone to answer. The aroma of the food passing around in trays was not helping the grumbles coming from your empty stomach. Though you both moved to a corner, fellow employees were still taking turns to have the business and personal talk with your husband. He spewed words like he was the ultimate game, but you knew better just by the way his hold on your waist tightened at some particular questions.

You would’ve surely enjoyed his distress but you wanted nothing more than to eat a piece of cake that that just flew by you. luckily for you, a waiter halted at your stop. You grabbed a drink and hurriedly took a sip to soothe your nerves, all when yuta was staring like a hawk. He observed your nervousness right when you entered but it was heartbreaking for him to avoid poking fun at you.

He gulped his glass in one go, releasing a sigh of relief, as he saw taeyong and others approaching. kun, johnny, jaehyun were tailing behind but they seemed quite distant.

“hello mr. lee. We are glad to have you here.” Yuta formally shook taeyong’s hand, your face instinctively scrunched up at his behaviour.

“I see you married a very fine young woman.”taeyong also cajoled but in a very professional tone.

“you met her! She’s y/n. my partner in crime! Loveliest wife ever. But be careful, she’s a bit nosy.” He pointed his words towards you while keeping an arm around your shoulder. You simply rolled your eyes at him. You were about to threw his arm away when others approached you.

“If I wasn’t concerned about my repo here, I would have cooed at you y/n. I wanna pinch your cheeks so hard right now. Everyone thinks you both are so happy, but only I know how constipated you are from inside woman!”jaehyun laughed like he just shared a joke with you but not holding back, you just unleashed the exaggerated version of his laughter.

“oh jaehyun!” you started, slightly hitting your glass on his arm, “ not sure about a pinch, but I can surely punch your pretty face and guess what! I don’t have any repo to maintain. So its your responsibility that I don’t explode or else you won’t have anything to be concerned about anymore.” You finished letting out a fake giggle, but seemed like everyone but jaehyun found it funny as they were all laughing at the diss.

“atleast you think I’m pretty! No wait! it sounds all wrong!” he suddenly whined, encouraging everyone to laugh loudly at his state.

He was still being grumpy when an old man stopped near you, escorted by taeil making the uproar stop immediately. They all bowed at him and you followed suit. From the looks, he seemed in his 70s or maybe more.

“i love when young people find love. Who do you work for kiddo?” he lovingly asked you.

“I’m a masters student. Law specifically. I wish to join chois one day.”

“chois? I don’t like those leeches. You should try in qian mutlinationals. Kun have more opportunities and you can go international from there. He can give you a free ride till china, beyond that you can explore yourself!” as he finished his wise advice, you turned to kun in surprise. He nodded his head at you with a sheepish smile, confirming the words.

“sure, I’ll give it a thought.”

“and you nakamoto! I heard you were back last week but who would like to greet this old man who’s gonna die anyway.” He scoffed at him and you could sense the tone of friendliness in their interaction.

“you are the one to blame. You don’t get out of your house these days. And you don’t even care enough to visit us anymore.”

Now you were super confused.

“ohh! So she knows everything. When were you gonna tell me! When I had gotten diabetes with all the sweet talking.”as they all expressed their amusement, you were getting restless from all the unknown.

“I would love to hear your love story but I am extremely hungry. But y/n I have a work for you”, you nodded at his words, “ convince moon to remarry. I can’t watch him die like me, alone and unhappy. This manforce have failed so I expect a smart woman like you can find a way to do that. Please promise me, you’ll do it for this old man.” You were out of words but taeil made your work easy as he dragged him away.

“I think you’re drunk enough. Let’s worry about me while eating the delicious food.”

“only you can do it y/n!” and he was gone.

“you’ll get all answers so don’t worry. You look lovely by the way but I shall take my leave as I’m also very hungry.” Taeyong explained patting his stomach. Looked like everyone was getting food but you!

“y/n-ah! Not that shorts don’t suit you but dressing up just scaled up your beauty.” kun chimed in causing yuta to scoff. The way air was leaving his nose, it’d blow up anytime soon.

“johnny’s fashion sense is immaculate like always.” Johnny said, raising his collars.

“don’t blow your own trumpet. I was the one who chose it!”

“huh! What she chose were donkey dresses!”

“donkey! You need to change your dictionary.”

“respect. I’m a top level worker in lee financial corps.” He said smugly.

“so they just hire anyone wow!”

“not jus-

“stop you two! We are still here.” You glanced at kun and yuta, eyeing you both.

“I’m just hungry kun. I just had breakfast and coffee and nothing else.”

“then go and eat. I also need a breather from you!” yuta barked, playing with the empty glass.

It was your turn to snort now. But johnny linked his arm with you to take you away before the war could start. You ate as much as you wanted while questioning him,

“how can these employees have so much energy to spare. Don’t they work 9 to 5, then get time to attend a stupid party!”

“they were given half day off today.” He replied, munching the tofu.

“who was that old man?”

“that’s all part of a circle. You’ll complete it one day but I can’t tell u here so wait!”

“hmm. Then what about taeil? About remarrying him! And taeyong and kun’s companies. Dude that’s huge. How do you manage your syndicate.”

“stop! Cant you eat in silence woman. You’ll know when it’s your turn.”

“ok last one. How can yuta be an employee here when only thing he knows is to make juice or slice people!”

“we have his backup who does the actual work. Yuta takes cares of the investors and all. So he’s supposed to be anywhere but here. So it works out. And fyi he’s quite an eye candy here.”

“then go flirt with him! I ain’t in need of a poison candy.”

after gobbling all the starters, you conversed with him for about 20 minutes whilst enjoying your drinks. And he took you back to you designated seat for the night, right by yuta’s arm.

Earlier, you were being hoarded with guests, now it was your turn. It seemed like you were yuta’s assistant who was taking mini business reports from employees. By now you had no doubt that yuta was nothing but a chameleon, well versed in hiding his true self to blend in the corporate environment. You smiled as much as you could, giggled when yuta laughed and turned towards you, gulped numerous kinds of drinks and now you were a bit tipsy or maybe just tired or both.

You were handling fine being yuta’s dear wifey until they announced that there was a dance. And the stupid couples already hurdled to the centre to show off their skills which you didn’t have in the first place. You heard yuta groan as he pinched his nose and that was his most agreeable expression he had from the whole night.

“let’s just flee after this” yuta suggested.

“hell no! my dancing skills can’t be exposed to these prim prom perfect people. I ain’t doing it.” You continuously shook your head at him, the enmity forgotten for a moment. But he had other plans.

“don’t you dare step on me. I’m gonna eat you alive if you holed my shoes!” he suddenly moved you to the pool of people dancing on the floor. He guided your hands on the right places and the position made you both well aware of the tension in each other’s bodies.

“just do what others are doing.” You craned your neck from side to side but got nothing.

“nobody is doing anything. They’re just stitched to each other!”

“exactly.” And without any warning, he pulled you into him, your grip on his shoulders tightening instantly.Standing chest to chest with him, you totally forgot the need to exhale. You didn’t dare move as he delicately swayed you from side to side, his eyes boring into yours. You wondered what conception were you both throwing at others. He was no pro like you but still managed to look like one.

It continued for few moments until jaehyun interrupted you.

“can I have her hand in dance” he asked yuta to which the man just released you. it was so sudden that you were taken aback by his sour mood but everything about yuta was sudden so you didn’t paid much attention when you had a mountain of trouble standing in front of you.

“may i?” jaehyun asked, bowing to you.

“no!”

“oh come on. I’m much better than yuta in dance.” He jerked your hand and next moment you knew, you were waltzing with him. He was doing what you call actual dancing.

“you looked so romantic with him and here I get the stink eye.” he sighed at you.

“because I am confined by the demand of this situation or else even you would be sporting a black eye by now!”

“I feel extremely hurt y/n. we are same age so shouldn’t we be getting along.”

“getting along my ass you son of nepotism.”

“that’s so unlady like behaviour. You should be accepting friendships when you are getting them. As said by a someone very famous, life is fleeting and in your case, I won’t trust the lifecourse too much.”

“stop using instagram quotes on me. Read the context then put into application, jaehyun. Life is fleeting. Chances would be gone before you know it.”

“when was the last time you listened to someone without running your brain hmm?”

“the same day when you were taking a break from running your mouth.”

“you are a terrible dancer.”

“you aren’t any good either.”

“what was the name of the boy who gave you hickies?”

“you want classes from him?”

“nope. I’m more than better at my game. I just wanna confirm what is he? Blind or dickhead! Coz no sane man would come near your beasty at-

“I hope you love your shoes.”

“what!”

A gasp left him, face turning red as he shut his eyes tightly to contain the pain. you had stomped on his foot with your pencil heel and now he couldn’t do anything but mutter curses as he progressed slowly for the bar to sit. Yuta joined him soon only to fan the flames.

As the time passed , drowsiness took control over your senses. Dinner was being closed by now, but you were the hosts or were supposed to be , so there you stood by the door with same i-am-so-in-love-with-my-hubby and it-was-pleasure-to-meet-you grins plastered on your face. Yuta’s hands would be calloused by the amount of hand shaking he had done but not that you cared.

Goodbyes were sent to taeil and johnny as well and when you were about to leave, jaehyun and taeyong came over with some papers in their hands.

“y/n you forgot to sign these. This one is for the property situated in gangnam. I know I promised three in the same area but I changed my idea for bigger and better. This one’s is in Incheon and other is in busan, your hometown!” he recited as he showed you the stamped papers. You were not sure about taking anything from him so you refused.

“no taeyong. I’m good. I’ve my sources and I’ll be joining summer internship so I can fend for myself.” You reasoned.

“it’s part of the deal. Just sign, I mean well please.”

You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you tried to think harder about it.

“leave it taeyong. This tie is killing me so let’s just talk tomorrow.”yuta said, loosening his bow tie.

“It doesn’t concern you yuta and y/n its part of the promise. Do it or I’ll have to force.” Your jaw clenched at his desperate tone. so you snatched the pen , ready to do as he demanded.

“where do I have to sign!”

“here!” he pointed out on the first file. “and y/n y/l/n nakamoto!”

You nodded without glancing at him and signed on all the three files, making it official.

Taeyong flashed you a smile as you returned him the pen, “I’m glad it worked fine. Now you must be tired so we’ll let you retire.”

You passed him without caring enough to reply. Soon enough , yuta joined you.

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

The passing trees and streetlights provided the comfort that you didn’t know you needed. It was sweet, the feeling of being alone yet not letting others feel the same. you were trying to count the number of streetlights as you passed speedily.

“aren’t you smart enough to know why taeyong took your signatures tonight?” yuta broke the silence. he took a sharp cut as you lost your count. Not receiving an answer, he spoke again, calmly, “ those properties were on earlier registered on taeyong’s name and that busan one is mine. Taeyong is sharp witted man  you should’ve been careful before giving in to him.”

“what are you trying to say!”

“everything’s flying through your head right! To put it simply, you are part of mafia now.” Your head snapped towards him in utter shock as words left his mouth, “ if you try to rant us or steal any info to give away, upon background checkout , you’d be found equally involved in the illegal activities of neos for when if it is proved that me or taeyong are part of underground, our properties would be sealed , stamping your future with them. You won’t even escape income tax department let alone cops! Those buildings are after all, result of our illegal income!” he stopped as he took another turn, not aware of how your eyes were glistening by now. “you can’t leave unless taeyong wants you to and pray if you would ever be able to! It was a surprise for all of us as well so you don’t need to feel betrayed at all. You, me, taeyong, johnny. The great black neos!” he finished as the car halted in the parking lot.

As soon as he unlocked, you ran out of it, tears rushing down nonstop. Elevator seemed too slow, the mirrors were making you more dizzy as it moved upwards. Everything came in flashes from the moment you passed by that alley. This was not the deal that you accepted! Regret and guilt filled you as the the lift opened. Throwing your shoes in the midway, you ran to your room as the tears turned into sobs, wrecking your whole body. Turning in the keys, you casted yourself onto the bed. With burning throat you passed out there.

And yuta stood outside your door, emotionless, in an attempt to envision how this would end for the both of you!

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

yuta or johnny??? 

thank you so much for reading!

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw​ ily

[fanfictiondreamscape]

The Ouran Academy Deviant

Request: if not already requested...May I request Bad Reputation for Haruhi from Ohshc x Female reader? 

Title: The Ouran Academy Deviant

Genre: songfic~, a lil comedic (just a little bit - if you squint you might see it), and slightly romantic. still very floofy tho, WOO. 

Pairing: Haruhi Fujioka x Fem! Reader

Notes: The influx of Ouran requests that have flown in is making me melt, seriously. Dead fandoms are really becoming my primary writing topics now, aren’t they? Either way, I love this request and feel like this could go in so many new directions that mimic total bbe - and the pairing just makes everything feel so much more powerful. Like, Haruhi and a total troublemaker? YES. 

This is extremely long, as well, so prepare to read something that is (arguably) longer than anything else in this vein that I have written. 

Also, I felt like this would work amazingly in one-shot form, and I took some slight liberties. That being said, proceed with caution. The only thing I would warn you about is vulgar language! 

Below the cut! 

Haruhi Fujioka and (L/n) (Y/n), the odd couple of Ouran Academy. One is a scholarship student, in a club, with a clean track record. She comes off as kind, intelligent, respectable to the utmost level - especially so for dealing with things in the particular way that she does. 

(Y/n), on the other hand? She skips school, could care less about her grades, and decides to forego the uniform whenever she does go to school. She sneaks off to do very unladylike things, comes off as incredibly intimidating, and appears to be someone rewarded by fear rather than respect.

The two could not be more different, but the one thing that drove them together was simple: Tamaki. 

(Y/n)’s older cousin was the one that dragged her to school that day, he was the one that introduced her to the club after a tiring day at school that consisted of her slacking off in class and skipping in the academy bathrooms, he was the one that provided an easy form of detention for her when she got penalized by the staff. 

During the time that she was cleaning and helping in club duties, she had run into Haruhi in her work, and despite what she had said, Haruhi still helped her. “I don’t give a damn, you’re a host aren’t you? Go woo some chicks over on those couches.”

Normally, that would’ve been the end of things. Which makes the next events more shocking.

...

Tamaki had noticed his cousin and his newly-appointed apprentice working together, and in their battle of wits and capabilities, he also picked up on their chemistry. From then on, he was driven to make the two a couple. Though, his methods are extremely unconventional.

One random day, he had invited (Y/n) to his mansion, dragged her to his bedroom and shared a talk with her. She had initially come off as disinterested, but his attitude made her open a bit more. 

“Sooo, my dearest cousin, I have a proposition for you!” he had declared. (Y/n)’s interest was peaked, but a part of her advised her to avoid asking. That side lost to her curiousity.

“And what may that be, because if it so happens to be one of your over-the-top plans to try and get me to drag my ass to school I’m leaving.” Tamaki played the dramatics before getting to the point. 

“Oh, dear (Y/n), it is nothing of the sort. It is a resolution to a problem of yours, though.” 

The (h/c) raised an eyebrow, leaning in and nodding. “Go on.” 

The blonde let a small smirk settle on his face, and when he had announced his idea to her, she jumped up and was already on her way to leave the room. 

“Wait, wait, wait! Hear me out, please!” She paused, took in a deep breath and rolled her eyes before allowing herself to continue speaking. (Y/n) didn’t need this amount of annoyance before she left to wreak more havoc, but she also didn’t want to send the only person that cared enough to help her to his emo corner. 

“What if I say yes to this? What’s the catch gonna be? I’m not jumping from Class-C to Class-A just so you can play the part of the savior.”

“Well, first of all: you wouldn’t be bored. You have already shown that you are highly intelligent, you just need the proper amount of stimulation. You can get there!” She paused, then nodded, and gestured for Tamaki to continue. “Second of all: you need something to do during school other than vandalize the alley walls and bathroom stalls. You’re extremely pretty, and-”

“And I’m going.”

“Wait! Let me finish, I promise that you won’t absolutely hate it,” he pleaded. (Y/n) was still hesitant to go along with his plan, but again - don’t want to send the only person that cared enough to help her to his emo corner. 

“Fine, but make it quick.”

Cue the sparkling eyes. 

“Thank you! Anyway, I think you should join the Host Club. We can open it up to girls that want to appeal, and this would make your record look better for the future! After all, you want to succeed, right?” 

With a sigh, (Y/n) walked back to the bed and sat down. She had to debate the idea - she did want to do well following high school, and she did know that the way she was going halfway through the year wouldn’t be good for doing just that. Tamaki was right to advise her of this, but she didn’t want any obligations tying her down for the rest of her high school career. 

Tamaki was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watched his rough-and-tumble cousin run the benefits and drawbacks in her head. His lips were pursed and his hands were drawn to his chest tightly, gripped with anticipation. 

“I’ll think about it. You are right, I’ll give you that, but the likelihood that things would be that easy right now is low,” she answered calmly. She had a tone of seriousness as she spoke, and it was laced with fear. 

He had heard the way that she went about her response, and while he was admittedly a little disappointed that she wasn’t jumping for joy at his idea, he also knew that she didn’t work like that and didn’t intend to work like that. This was the best possible scenario for an answer that he could get, and that thought excited him. 

“You won’t regret it, I promise! Let me know after you think it through, I can get you prepared and set quickly!” (Y/n) nodded hesitantly, and then got up to leave. 

“I’m gonna leave, but I have a lot to think about, now...” she paused, a small flurry of red crossing over her face at the thought of what she was about to say next. ‘Thanks’ wasn’t a word in her dictionary, but now? It may have to be. 

“...Thanks, Tamaki.” 

His head darted up at her figure as he leapt up with joy and hugged her tightly. He had also lifted her up and managed to spin her around before she kicked him in the shin and got dropped. When Tamaki hit the floor gripping his leg, she was already walking down the hall and alerting the maids of her departure. 

...

Now, she sat in Class-A in her second year. The twins were sat behind her and didn’t bother trying to prank her, no one in class was brave enough to stand up to her or correct her when she exhibited some unladylike behavior in class, and some guys that were deemed crazy by the school populace attended the host club to chat with the new ‘Wild’ type. (Following Mori and Honey-senpai’s graduation, of course) 

(Sad boi hours-) 

She was surprisingly popular according to the polls that Kyoya had taken, and when taking this into consideration, she became the go-to for information from the club’s king himself. 

Despite Tamaki’s initial intentions, though, she had only become more quiet and focused on causing more harm outside of school hours. 

On multiple occasions, she had gone to the bathrooms and decided to tag the windows with an ‘X’ after covering them in black paint. She had also gone outside to rearrange what she could in the garden after blocking any cameras that would pick up her actions. 

Safe to say, she still maintained the reputation that she had achieved in her first year attending. 

Her antics were also upped by a new friendship with the twins. She had begun to teach them ways around the school and new ideas for pranks, some that would push the school regulations harshly, and joined them in their endeavors to terrorize certain students that would do certain things to them or someone they cared about. 

Otherwise, Tamaki was happy to see another facet of his plan come alive - Haruhi and (Y/n). The two were beginning to get along very well, very quick. It seemed as if the new year and new experiences lit a fire under the (h/c)’s ass, and she had begun to talk more. At least, to people she knew wouldn’t wimp out due to her words and actions. 

The change had made the blonde leap out of happiness, the observation that his most treasured cousin was beginning to grow up and become a better person - at a slow pace, but still, there’s improvement. 

“(Y/n), you’ve got some customers waiting for you,” Kyoya informed her, making said female groan in frustration. 

“They only come here to try and get into my pants, and they still think I’m gonna give those sleaze-bags a chance after the fuck-ton amount of times I’ve told them off.” She stood up despite her statement, brushing off her black skirt and pulling her tie down just the slightest to make herself presentable. “Whatever, I know you’re gonna crucify me if I don’t do it - money, after all.”

A smirk settled on Kyoya’s face as he watched her reluctance. “Of course, dear. Don’t want to keep those undergarment-chasers waiting, do we?” (Y/n) rolled her eyes. “If they try anything, leave and let someone know, of course.”

She chuckled at the taller male, “Of course, Ootori. I’m not dumb, I could easily put them in their place.”

The two shared a look before the female seated herself on the assigned couch. 

...

The year was passing by quickly, and as her popularity rose, Haruhi’s attention to her became more evident. (Y/n), admittedly wasn’t oblivious to the attention that she was being provided, but she was oblivious to the attention she was providing.

Now, the two sat next to each other in the cafeteria and talked about whatever was on their mind (at least, they did this when (Y/n) decided to show up to eat there instead of setting up pranks for the staff members). The two were showing an immense amount of attraction to the other, yet they wouldn’t come to the realization that they were crushing on each other. 

Even the Ouran Host Club graduates could pick up on the two’s liking to the other, despite not seeing them as often as they may have liked. When they did pop in, they tried to push the two together more often with the help of Tamaki himself and the twins. The whole of the club was in on a plan to get them together, sooner or later. 

Sadly, that would have to wait for the group as (Y/n) had started to revert back into skipping habits not long after her and Haruhi had developed a close bond.

Though the school had pressed for the person that decided to skip school at least once a week (which was still an improvement from the three days minimum that she’d jump for previously), they still failed to punish her severely due to Tamaki’s pleading and cover-ups. 

She was running thin, and frankly, her snark to other students was becoming more apparent. She had begun to let off more expletives than usual at anyone that pissed her off in the hallways, and would run to the bathrooms with no real explanation before planting herself in the nearest stall for the next class period.

This was starting to annoy staff, and Tamaki was walking an extremely tight rope due to it, but he was determined to help his cousin. He would stop at nothing to get her back to the person she was growing to be. 

One day, a Thursday, (Y/n) had run off to the bathrooms yet again. This time, school had ended, and while he knew that this would be a brash decision for someone so self-proclaimed gentlemanly, he ran into the girl’s bathroom to tlak to her. 

His footsteps weren’t the most silent, but he doubted she could hear him over the amount of mumbling she doing in the first stall. 

“This isn’t really happening, you’re just imagining this. You just like them as a friend.”

Bingo. 

“(Y/n)-chan?”

“The fuck- Tamaki? What the hell are you doing in the women’s restroom?”

The two left the area after letting Kyoya know that he and (Y/n) wouldn’t be attending to the club for a while. Despite his initial annoyance, Tamaki reassured him that it was something extremely important. 

They had decided to walk around campus for a while, mostly in silence as he waited for her to talk. He knew better than to press her on topics such as this, especially at times like these. 

“I’m worried.”

Tamaki’s violet eyes reflected worry, his brows furrowed in concern for (Y/n). “About what? You’ve gotten so much better, and you’ve told me that you like it. So, what’s worrying you?”

She sighed and gestured to the garden nearby with her head. Her eyes were silently pleading, acting as a way to indicate that she wanted to sit down. Whether that was out of fear for her emotions or Tamaki’s he was unaware, but he followed her outside and seated himself on the bench that had been laid before the lavender plants and roses. 

“It’s...it’s Haruhi.” The girl paused, took a  breath, and continued yet again. “I don’t know what...what I’m feeling for her..”

With a comforting hand resting on her shoulder, he spoke quietly. “What do you mean by that? You both enjoy each other’s company, from what she had said and you have shown. It isn’t contempt, is it?”

“No! No, it’s not that, it’s just...I think...I think I like her.”

Tamaki practically lit up at the statement. “You do? I swear, she does too, she’s just really oblivious. I can get you two together, but-”

“Tamaki, I appreciate the offer, but I know she doesn’t like people like me. Haruhi doesn’t like people that can’t keep the word ‘fuck’ out of their vocabulary for five seconds. She doesn’t like people that refuse to maintain a reputation that’s squeaky clean and extremely fucking poised. Worse yet, I know that even if she does like me, her reputation would be ruined by my shitty one - and that’s simply by default!” 

Tamaki remained silent as she continued, his hand still resting on her shoulder as his raised arm fell to his side slowly. He leaned in to listen to what she had to say closer. “I don’t want to drag her into my bullshit, otherwise I would’ve said something already! She just - ugh - she deserves someone that isn’t so nasty.”

As she let her face settle into her cupped hands, he sighed. Some thinking had to do the job, because she had been making such good progress and she was gaining more proper respect because of it. 

He knew she wouldn’t care otherwise, as she liked getting into trouble and basking in the adrenaline rush that came with the things that she did, but Haruhi had to remain well-mannered or else she’d be gone from the academy. 

Then it hit him. 

“How about this? You go home and think over this for the day, take a few days off from the club, and get some rest.” (Y/n) was listening attentively, wishing for something good to come from her cousin’s words. “Of course, you’d still have to attend school, but you could sneak some stuff in during break - you didn’t hear that from me.”

The female chuckled a little at his words, but she gestured for him to continue. “We were planning to have a ball soon, and Mori and Honey-senpai will be attending as prized guests. You can join us in hosting, but if you want to to, you can leave early.

“We want you to be as comfortable as you possibly can, after all - that, and.... Well, I know you and Haruhi like each other. I’m going to do whatever I can to make this happen.”

(Y/n) paused, seemingly frozen for a good second, before she leaped out of her seat and started smacking his shoulder. “What the fuck, Tamaki? You know that I don’t want that, she’ll be ruined! Anyway, she doesn’t like me! Seriously, how the hell do I handle you sometimes?”

Laughter left the male’s mouth as she slowed down, eventually letting her screaming cease in favor of a similar giggle. A gleeful smile gradually formed on her face, and the two finished their small sessions of laughter with panting. 

“My god, Tamaki, you are one crazy asshole, aren’t you?” she inquired playfully, breaths peeking between the words as she regained her breath from her sudden actions. 

In an abrupt action, Tamaki’s dramatic abilities came into play, feigning a face of horror as he uttered loudly. “That was extremely unladylike - you’re lucky I haven’t called for daddy!” 

The (h/c) gagged before grabbing what she had of her things and flicking him. “Let’s go; I need to go home, and you need to go back to the host club.” The taller blonde dropped his act and followed suit. 

As they left, a shorter figure stood by for a while after. A small brunette stood huddled tightly in formation to hide behind a pillar, having listened to the conversation that the two had shared. 

The amount of vulgarities that lined (Y/n)’s speech was a little shocking, but that didn’t phase Haruhi as much as what the content of it did. ‘She...likes me? I never noticed, I just...wow.... Is this why she’s been going through my head so much?’

She smiled hopefully, making sure to run back to the host club before Kyoya had added anything more to her already over-the-top debts. 

...

A few weeks had passed by now. More havoc was seen around the school from a week prior, all by (Y/n)’s doing, and the host club was back and full for the first time in a while. 

The week was prefaced with the aforementioned female sitting behind a curtain doing whatever she needed to do while listening in on any and all meetings that the group shared. Her grades were the highest they’d ever been - something that both scared and calmed the teachers - and she had been saving time for after school to do anything that was particularly crazy. The best part of all of this was that she had not only been able to begin attending classes again, but that she had also begun to think.

Thinking about things helped her out now, and she managed to get away with many more annoying things before jumping the stealthy gun and going absolutely crazy with her pranks. It also helped her out with her emotions, and she had realized something very important. 

Especially so since the ball that Tamaki had proposed they held was to be this weekend. 

(Y/n) had been debating on what to do for the coming event, but eventually settled for her tendency to wing it for stuff like this. She had an idea of what she wanted to do, but things change and she wasn’t down to make any specific plans for the day. 

Otherwise, there was something that she was heavily torn on. Her feelings towards the androgynous brunette host were getting harder to contain, the twins were starting to see the effects that had come with it, and they were holding a prank over her head if she were to avoid telling her soon. (Granted, they weren’t aware that she knew, but she had ways of getting information out of people - intimidation tactics definitely work.)

She wanted to yell them to Haruhi if that’s the last thing she did, but two turnouts hit her square in the face. What if she said no? Well, then she would be devastated, and considering that this is the first person that she has actually cared as much about (romantically, of course), she’d be worried. If that were to happen, would she push herself further into herself? Would she lose the progress she’d be getting? Maybe she’d permanently jeopardize her chances at a future?

On the other hand, what would happen if Haruhi said yes? Would she run away and claim that is was false, or would she stand by and be at a loss for words? What about Haruhi’s reputation? Normally, (Y/n) would be preaching and standing by her status as a deviant at the high end establishment, but this? This was different, and she knew this - it was inevitable that her reputation would follow Haruhi and ruin the already somewhat tainted one that she already had. Privileged prissy students were already something to tip-toe around for the beautiful and wealthy, but a poor scholarship student was bound to face more detrimental consequences by the student body. 

The whole scenario was leaving the collected girl in an extremely confused mindset, and it was starting to peek out to anyone that was able to see that her notes had little doodles hidden in the lines of the topic notes. She knew how to hide it, but Tamaki - the normally oblivious prince - had been the person to see the coded messages in her notes when he was helping her with her work for a project. 

The fear that was hitting her due to this was harsh, much more so than normal. For once, she was truthfully scared - she didn’t like it. 

Haruhi, on the other hand, noticed her improving after the chat she had eavesdropped on a bit ago. She also, for once, noticed that (Y/n) had become a bit more interested in what she was doing, sometimes even trying things that she normally wouldn’t try. 

From time to time, Haruhi would throw out a random idea for a prank that she had wanted to see as a joke, and it would have come up on the campus courtyard within the week. It flattered her, and seeing as she knew that (Y/n) was one to prank and cause trouble wherever, whenever, and for whatever? It made her flustered, frankly. 

With the ball coming up soon, too, she was determined to relax for the night, hopefully with the (h/c) beside her. No fear, nothing, just an image of her and her continually-developing crush standing beside each other under the stars - cheesy imaging, sure, but she enjoyed the thought.

They both had opposing stances on the event, though, and that was what Tamaki had caught onto first. He had seen the glances that had seemingly become more representative of longing, and he wasn’t going to do it. He had a plan, and he’d be damned if it didn’t work. 

...

“Ready, men?”

“Yes, sir!” 

“Are the decorations in the room prepped?”

“Yes, sir!”

“How about the music?”

“Ready!”

“Great, now the scenery. Balcony completed?”

“You got it, boss!”

“Amazing! Now, boys, let’s go cater to some girls, hmm?”

The gaggle of hosts had gather together earlier than others, already coming prepared and dressed, excited for the formal evening. A plan was looming over their heads as well, and they were driven to get it completed to perfection.

The subjects? Haruhi and (Y/n), of course! 

The two were unaware, courtesy of strict regulations regarding the scheme, and a new relationship was most definitely going to be formed later in the night. For benefit of both, privately, but they had to get the ship to sail. 

While the boys were meeting, (Y/n) was at home going through her closet. Big fancy ballgowns were never up her alley despite the many times that her parents had tried to force her to wear them, but they had given up after she would wear them with some ‘improper’ shoes or switch the dress out for a button-down and formal pants. 

She had run through all of the gowns in the front of the closet before reaching the back, finding where she hid all of her favorite formal clothing. It mainly consisted of options that people around her would normally trash her for, but she had persisted in her action to wear it. 

There was a plethora of short dresses that she found comfortable, even some lighter colored ones that she would typically gag at and hide away from. There was a section strictly reserved for dress pants and shirts, and some ties were set up beside them on a shelf. There was even some shoes that she would wear for formality purposes if they were absolutely necessary (read: for future privilege purposes). 

What stood out to her in her search of what to wear, though, was a silky (f/c) dress, complete with a small back lacing detail and a low-cut neckline. A pair of tights with a lacey pattern in black, a simple choker, and some sensible combat boots would tie the whole look together - might as well dress up to dress up and dress to impress while she’s at it. 

She reached the garments, grabbing what she could fit in her hands and leaving said closet in choice of getting dressed. 

Haruhi was being cornered by the twins and dragged to a room near the club room where there was a wide collection of clothing to choose from while (Y/n) had the benefit of taking her sweet time. 

Hikaru had tossed a dress that he had presented to her on a mannequin (which proved that the garment would be extremely skimpy), as did Kaoru, but Mori and Tamaki were quick to jump in and remove her from the dresses and to a changing room. She was promptly handed a dapper suit and told to get ready. 

(Y/n) had slipped the (somewhat) formal wear on, making sure that everything fell just right. It didn’t take long until she had called for someone to help her with her hair as she had little intention to wear makeup, and if she were to, it’d be very little. 

A servant of the family had slipped into the room and started to brush through her hair, and decided to curl it just the slightest. It fell to frame her features perfectly, and as the servant left and she did some light makeup, a smile started to spread across her face. 

For once, a formal event left her excited. Whether that was her suppression of the fear from the day before or a weird way to redirect it, she didn’t know, but she enjoyed the feeling. The fact that the thought was leaving her excited also drove her to fluff her hair a little bit before grabbing her cell phone and her bag. 

As she was on her way out of her room, she stopped and looked in the mirror. With her hair done, some makeup on, and a dress that usually would skip over unless she had a good reason - she paused. She stood stock-still and looked over herself in the mirror, seemingly glancing over a girl who she didn’t recognize. 

It was so different than her typical baggy t-shirt and torn jeans, so much so that she couldn’t believe that it was actually her reflection. She looked...pretty, for once, not grunge-y and dark. It brought more confidence to her as she texted Tamaki that she was on her way to the school. 

She got into the limo that he had sent for her, and she was on track for the academy. 

Haruhi had been getting prepped at the academy, courtesy of the host club. Kyoya and Tamaki were making sure that the decor of the ballroom was up to par, the twins were waiting beside the hairstylist and makeup artist they had hired for her, and Mori and Honey were greeting and making conversation with the females that had decided to attend the event.

Annoyance was a familiar expression on her face as she had tools prodding at it and people pulling her hair in what was supposedly called ‘styling’. She was willing to put up with it for the night, though, if it meant that (Y/n) would be able to see her. 

She didn’t know how this would have hit her, but she was finished not long after a knock was heard on the door. She was already full with an odd mixture of fear and excitement, but when she saw the (h/c) female walk in, her jaw almost refused to leave the floor. If it weren’t for Hikaru, it most certainly would have stayed there. 

Tamaki had rushed into the room, got a view of his little cousin all dolled up, and ran to hug her tightly. The air left her lungs for a second, but that was prevented due to Mori pulling him off her. A small ‘thanks’ was uttered before she was pushed towards Haruhi. 

The image in front of her held the same power that she had to Haruhi. She, the troublemaker who refused to keep her mouth shut, was left speechless. Her hair was done in a refined manner, her face held some light touch-ups, and the suit that she donned was making her features appear more clean and sharp. 

“Wow, you look...you look gorgeous, (Y/n).”

“I could say the same to you, Haruhi.”

The whole of the hosts watched on in intrigue, waiting for someone to say something more, but that was interrupted in favor of discussion. After all, each of them had to uphold a specific image for the night, and if that was a failure to up hold, well...beware the wrath of an annoyed Kyoya and an angered Tamaki. 

 It took around fifteen minutes to make sure everything was covered accurately and thoroughly, and the club was left to the night. 

They made an announcement, presenting the festivities of the night and the reward for the best dancer. Similarly to the previous year, the winner would receive a kiss from Tamaki, and the night would go on. 

Everything had begun with extravagance, catering was going on and handling the plethora of attendees with quick succession. (Y/n) had the pleasure of witnessing Haruhi go googly-eyed at the mention of fancy tuna for the umpteenth time, busting out laughing at the image of her holding a plate in one hand and a fork in the other, stuffing the food in gleefully.

In contrast to Haruhi, (Y/n)’s interest was peaked by the amount of shenanigans that she could pull overnight. The doors were open to the club, and if there were rooms left out and were lacking anyone inside them, that meant that those were primary times to pull pranks. She had already snuck out of the ballroom to a supply closet to create chaos in a staff room nearby. Haruhi had watched her run off and enact her plan, refusing to stop her in favor of watching the glowing glee that radiated from her as she did so. 

Everything that had been happening was being monitored by Tamaki, and alongside Kyoya, the twins, Mori, and Honey-senpai; they were almost ready to push the big plan into action. 

Operation (Ship/name) was to be put into action in T-minus ten minutes.

The night had continued to pass by happily, and around the start of the competition, Hikaru and Kaoru had dragged (Y/n) and Haruhi off (respectively) into different hallways. They had to interrupt their conversations, but everything was just starting. 

While Kyoya had been initially keeping an eye of the plan, he had requested that Mori and Honey stand by the twins while the competition was being done. Tamaki was stood beside him and had provided specific action for the duo as before they took their leave. Thankfully, a majority of the attendees were caught up in the night, and failed to notice the group of hosts leaving. 

As the twins had brought the respective person to an assigned room, they had made sure that the lights were kept off for a bit longer. The subjects of the plan were left to wander around the room in the dark, eventually finding themselves by bumping into the other. 

When the quartet had heard the sound, they had made a quick job in turning the ceiling-rigged lights on. This left the two under an indoor view of sparkling lights that mimicked that of stars, making the two realize that something had been planned. (Y/n) had remained staring at the ceiling lights while Haruhi was left staring at the floor, only then letting the situation hit her. 

The two of them had remained in their own little worlds as Mori had let the curtain blocking balcony open, leaving moonlight to creep into the impeccably decorated interior and allow it to glow under the night sky. Everything seemed too surreal to be generally close to reality, but the setting provided a sense of pride and comfort for the (h/c) female, which then led her to make a brash decision.

“Hey, uh, Haruhi?”

The said brunette lifted her head from the tiled floor to make eye contact with her, and the view that met her sight left her breathless for the hundredth time that night. The glow from the moon let her features pop, almost made her appear to be glittering, and she couldn’t form any coherent thought for a second. 

Eventually, something did come to her head, but it took an extra prod from aforementioned female to do so. “Uh, yeah? What is it?”

“Well, I...”

The hidden group had stood behind in a dark corner, watching the scene before them unfold. Honey-senpai had a hand pressed against his mouth as he gripped Usa-chan tightly, Mori maintaining his stoic face despite his eyes, and the twins gracing michevious grins. Tamaki and Kyoya had left to ‘deliberate’ on the winner, but they were watching with interest from a corner opposite to that of the other four - Tamaki had his own han dclosed around his mouth so no squeals of joy could be heard in the quiet room.

“I, uh...I like...you.” 

Haruhi’s eyes widened at her shy declaration. She had known the girl for a while, but she had never expected this to be how she handled something like this. Normally, she’d jump right in and shout the claim, not beat around it and stutter. This shocked her, and before she could utter a response, (Y/n) had spoken again.

“Listen, I know you may not like me, or you do - whatever. I just needed to get this off my chest, and if your answer is no, don’t be afraid to tell me.” She came off as bold, but one look in her eyes would tell even the most unaware being on planet Earth that she was truly terrified of the answer. 

“(Y/n), I like you, too.” 

It took everything in the viewing crowd’s power to keep themselves from shouting praises and congratulations at the two females. 

(Y/n) lips twitched upwards, forming the largest smile anyone of the group had seen on her face. It didn’t match the usual mischief that it normally did, nor did it seem like she was hiding something; for once, it looked like a real smile from a place of happiness rather than benefit. “Really? Great, I just feel the need to warn you of something before you say anything else, if you even decide to do so.”

Haruhi’s interest in the statement was brought to the speaker’s attention as she continued, “I get that I have a bad rep, and that what comes out of my mouth could rival that of a sailor. And, despite that, I’d normally jump at the chance to ask you out, but...”

The crowd of hosts watched on in anticipation, both worried and hopeful that thei rnew declared OTP would hop onboard the ship and allow it to sail. 

“I just want you to have a good time here, and I don’t want any of my fuck-ups to reflect on you. People here are vicious, and you’re already in the vein of students that get shit on. I should be the only one to deal with any stupid fucking repercussions from my own bullshit, and I don’t want to pull you into it. Now that I’ve told you that, you can tell me if you’d-”

The interruption was very sudden, and the way that it was done left even the hosts shocked. Haruhi had pulled (Y/n) to her and kissed her, preventing her from continuing her worried rant. A few seconds had passed before the magical moment ended.

The both of them were left breathless following the contact, and Haruhi’s next words brought joy to the (h/c)’s face. “I don’t give a damn about your reputation, all I know is that I like you and would like to date you.”

Tamaki had watched on in calm glee, the scene giving him a sense of joy that he hasn’t felt in a while. Seeing his troubled sister come out of her previous stump so strong made him so proud, and brought a new sense of pride to him along with it. She has truly shown that she has changed for the better while maintaining her typical attitude towards that world. 

“Thank fuck! Okay, now that that’s done, you wanna dance with me, your newfound girlfriend?”

“But there’s no music, (Y/n),” Haruhi chuckled out. A gentle smile sat on her lips as she spoke. 

“You think I give a damn? We don’t need any music to dance, y’know.”

Music had started to play from the background, cued by Tamaki pressing play on the radio remote. Speakers blasted a gentle slow song, and though the girls were now made freshly aware of the said blonde’s actions, they decided to forego any ounce of annoyance in favor of each other’s arms around the other’s waist. 

The slight squeak of (Y/n)’s boots and the slight shuffle of Haruhi’s suit was comforting the to whole of the club. 

Before long, the two had ended their short dance, allowing the six men that stood watching from the corners to reveal their presence. They had made it clear that they were only doing this to make sure everything went smoothly for the both of them, but before their short spiel could be completed, (Y/n) ran and jumped onto her cousin’s torso. If Tamaki’s hug left her breathless, her hug left him completely dead. 

The group had left the girls together in the room while they had decided on the winner in another room, and when they were done, they had gone to gather the girls for the announcement. 

Once the winner was crowned and the night had regained any sense of energy that it had lost, the new couple had made their way to the dance floor. The spectacle of two members of the club dancing together had left some of the attending students speechless, but the two remained unbothered as they had waltzed around the floor gracefully. 

Some people had watched on in awe at the two, never stepping in to stop them. Some of the viewers also gushed at the image, presumably falling victim to the ship that they had shown over the span of the year to this point. 

Once the end of the song was coming to the climax, (Y/n) had returned the kiss that was given to her by Haruhi earlier in the middle of the floor. The onlookers’ jaws had hit the floor as they continued to get into the action, the twins watching the scene while trying to suppress their laughter at the expressions of the people around them.

When (Y/n) pulled away from the lip-lock, she laughed at the incredulous expression that rested on Haruhi’s face before flicking her shoulder. “You little-” 

“Oh, trust me, baby - I already know.”

The crowd had let the moment pass somewhat, and the night continued along well. As the night was ending, though, some people had shot dirty looks at the two. This, of course, prompted (Y/n) to flip them the bird and a formal ‘Fuck you’ as they exited the building. 

“Was that really called for (Y/n)?” Haruhi asked in amusement, watching as she shrugged her shoulders. 

“A girl can do what she wants to do, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

The remainder of the night was left to the club, Kyoya directing the staff to clean whatever mess there was the other five males were left to their own devices. The girls had left the commotion in favor of the starlit room, leaning against the balcony and watching the clouds in the slightly-chilly night sky move in formation. 

As they had been throwing out suggestinos as to what shape they were forming as they moved, Haruhi proposed another question for the (h/c) beside her. “What about your reputation? Wouldn’t dating a scholarship student ruin that for you?”

(Y/n) paused, did a double-take to her and the ledge she was leaning on, and spoke up. “Please don’t tell me that you’re asking the same damn thing I did earlier? I already have a bad rep, and I frankly don’t care about it.”

“But, it might make it worse-”

“I don’t give a damn ‘bout my bad reputation, and I would highly appreciate it if you would refrain from claiming that you would be detrimental to it. I taint my reputation, nobody else.” 

“Fine, fine....”

[cafedanslanuit]

Grow as we go || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Oh, who said it's true that the growing only happens on your own? / They don't know me and you

a/n: Finally, the last chapter! And the longest lol. I’m really happy you enjoyed this little series. I’ll see all of you around <3 tagging list~ @loeybk​ @animemelanie360​

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

Heroes got sick too. You knew that, but didn’t expect getting stuck in your room for two days was going to be as miserable as it was. Yes, you were thankful that pneumonia had receeded to a cold thanks to Recovery Girl but, somehow, this cold felt worse than being hit in training. On Monday you were supposed to go back to classes when the cold symptoms were gone, and even if it was only a weekend away, you couldn’t wait anymore. You had already finished the last book you had bought and has streamed all seasons of your favourite series. Having nothing to do plus the weight of knowing you were missing important lessons and trainings had put you in the worst mood to the point you had asked your father not to disturb you unless there was an active fire.

It was Friday afternoon and he had already gone into your room eight times. You chose a movie on Netflix and while the opening credits played, you looked at your door, thinking about the possibility of putting your bookshelf against the door to prevent it from opening. Would it be over the top? Yes. Would it help you be alone at least until your movie finished? Also yes. Before you could really decide, you heard him knocking your door once again. You rolled your eyes, exhausted.

“Dad, please, leave me alone” your door opened and you pressed the spacebar to pause the movie. Turning to your right, you saw your father entering your bedroom and your ex boyfriend following him. You squealed, covering yourself with your sheets, even if you were wearing pajamas.

“Dad!”

“Katsuki came to bring you some homework, I think?” he looked over at Bakugou, who just nodded. He was still in his U.A. uniform. “I’ll leave you too, can I bring you anything?”

“No, thank you” Bakugou said with a small bow. Your father smiled and left your room, closing the door behind him.

A tense silence between the two of you reigned. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to talk first, and if you were, you didn’t know what were you supposed to say. While grades were important in U.A., they mostly relayed on the final exams, which weren’t due in at least another month. There was no need for him to bring you homework and you couldn’t help but think it was an excuse for him to see you. The idea made your heart skip a beat, holding onto the last bit of hope you still had within you.

“Aizawa asked me to give you this” he grunted, opening his backpack and handing you his notebook. You parted your lips, looking at his notebook and then back at him. Of course.

“I knew Aizawa didn’t like me, but this is just sad” you said with a dry laugh. Taking Bakugou’s notebook, you opened it and started looking for the lessons you had missed. Since you figured he wouldn’t just stand there and wait for you to copy a two day’s worth of classes, you took your phone and started taking pictures of all the pages you needed to copy later.

While you did that, you saw with the corner of your eye how Bakugou started walking around your room. Even if he had been at your house a couple of times before, he had never been inside your bedroom. You both had always spent your time in the living room or in the kitchen if you felt hungry. Still, Bakugou would never let you cook as ‘you cut tofu in sticks rather than dices like a maniac’, so he always took the lead. Not that you complained, he knew his way around the kitchen, which made you love him a little bit more.

In one of those occasions, he had met your father. Bakugou had been stirring a pot of miso soup when your father’s keys opened the front door. You went to the living room and greeted him, informing him your boyfriend was visiting. You had talked to him about Bakugou before, since the both of you had been dating for four months. Your heart warmed when you saw your father greeting Bakugou as an old friend and asking what he was cooking. Bakugou’s tense expression was laughable, as he tried his best not to use swear words around him. 

Dinner had been great, you father doing his best to make Bakugou feel welcome, asking about school and praising him for such a delicious meal. Finally, your father gave you both some alone time as he went in to take a shower. You wasted no time in teasing Bakugou about being so tense around your father, but also confessed you were really happy you two had actually met. You thanked him for putting in some effort, earning a grump from him, which only made you smile further.

Having your father like Bakugou seemed like a blessing, but it only felt like torture now that he had let him in knowing you hadn’t been together in the last three months. When you talked about your situation with Bakugou with your father, he had asked you to give Bakugou another chance. You said you were waiting for him to sort out his mind and you had already accepted it could take more time than you wished for. ‘Why do you like him so much, anyway?’ you had asked, rolling your eyes. ‘He just seemed to care for you” your father had smiled sadly at you and changed the topic before you started crying once more.

“Weren’t you eighteen?”

You turned your head to Bakugou, who was holding your Jigglypuff plushie.

“I could say the same about your All Might posters” you countered. You looked at each other and, for the first time, the one who let out a snort was Bakugou. You expected him to shot back another comment, but instead he just kept looking around your room. “Denki actually bought it, you know?” you commented, your eyes fixated on Bakugou’s notebook

“What?” Bakugou snapped.

“He got it for Jirou saying it reminded him of her but she got mad and gave it to me” you chuckled at the memory, taking the final photo with your phone and closing Bakugou’s notebook. “Thanks for bringing this. I was already hating myself for getting this sick”

“Yeah, no shit” he muttered, putting his notebook back into his backpack. “How the fuck did you manage to do that?”

“Uhh, I may or may have not forgotten an umbrella on my way back home” you chuckled, scratching the back of your head.

“Why didn’t you see Recovery Girl?”

“I did! If I hadn’t I would have ended up with pneumonia. Now it’s just a cold. My body just needs to rest” you explained, shuffling in your seat. Now that his mission was over, you knew he had to get back, but you didn’t want him to. You hadn’t talked to each other outside of training since the gym incident happened. The first days were mostly because whenever you looked at him, you remembered the way his hands had held you against the wall, making you flustered and losing attention of any chore you were doing. You had been caught staring at nothing several times by your friends, playing Bakugou’s words over and over in your head.

‘I’d rather have this than nothing at all’

You couldn’t have agreed more with him. Even if he hadn’t approached you, you’d rather have him in your room, at least for a little while.

“When did--”

“My mother--”

A chuckle fell from your lips.

“Sorry, it wasn’t important. You were saying something about your mom?”

“That old hag asked me to give you this” he said, looking into his backpack again. He took out a soup thermos, an individual package of disposable chopsticks and handed it to you. Bakugou finally sat on the foot of your bed, his stern expression never leaving his face.

“That’s so nice of her” you smiled, taking the thermos and opening the lid. A smell of soup warmed your body. “Can I?” you asked, grabbing the chopsticks.

“What the fuck you think it’s for?” he rolled his eyes.

You started eating the soup, noticing how delicious it was. Not only that, it was your favourite kind: miso soup. You didn’t know if it was because you were sick, but it made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Humming contently, you picked a piece of tofu and noticed it was cut in sticks rather than dices.

“How did she know I prefer them in sticks?” you asked with an amused expression. Bakugou’s face turned red, and you watched him in awe as he opened his mouth but couldn’t say a thing. The truth suddenly hit you, making you grin widely at the boy in front of you.

“T-the fuck if I know how! Her cooking is shit and--”

“You remembered” you sighed, feeling your eyes burning. You bit your tongue, doing your best to avoid crying. You set the thermos aside and crawled on your bed, getting closer to Bakugou. You finally kneeled in front of him, his eyes watching you wide open while his eyebrows were still characteristically furrowed. “You actually remembered” you repeated in a small voice. His eyes darted sideways, a deep blush still covering his cheeks.

“Of fucking course I--”

You interrupted him by pressing your lips against hiss. Bakugou let out a surprised groan, but it wasn’t long until his hands were on the middle of your back, pulling you closer. You had his face between your hands, not being able to stop smiling as you were kissing him. It was amazing how much your body seemed to have craved him, even though it hadn’t been more than a month since you had last kissed.

Bakugou pulled away, setting his hands on your shoulders. Your smile fell a little when you realized he wasn’t smiling like you hoped: a preoccupied expression covered his face.

“I still haven’t figured it out” he muttered, looking you straight in the eyes. It took you a moment to understand what he was talking about, but your last conversation quickly popped in your mind.

“Oh. I…” you paused, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “I think you have, though”

“I still feel fucking frustrated. Especially now” he grunted, making you laugh.

“You’re just horny” you teased him. Bakugou flicked your forehead.

“Fuck off”

“Did you feel frustrated while you were making the soup?” you asked, changing your kneeling position to a sitting one, a leg bent while the other dangled from the bed. Bakugou stayed silent for a moment, his face scrunching, a tell-tale sign he was trying to concentrate. You remembered seeing that expression when you looked over at him while you were taking a test. Waiting for an answer made you feel uneasy, but you did your best to be patient.

“No” he said after a few moments. You felt the corner of your lip twitching upwards.

“What did you feel?” you saw Bakugou’s eyebrows scrunch again and quickly shook your head. “No, no, forget that. Just… did it feel good?”

“Yeah, I guess” Bakugou shrugged.

“You love me, then” you smile.

“Because I made you soup?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you cooked my favourite soup, cut the tofu how I like it and then brought it to me. Yes, Katsuki, you love me” you grinned, pecking his cheek. You noticed how there was the tiniest of smiles on Bakugou’s face, a sight you had longed for weeks.

“Okay, I love you then”

Bakugou put his arms around you, your face nuzzling against his chest. The smell of caramel and cinnamon invading your senses, making the idea of taking a nap there really enticing. You had missed the feeling of his strong arms around you, making you feel protected, now even more that you knew he loved you. There were no longer idle thoughts wondering what did he think about your relationship or yourself. There was only him, Katsuki, making you feel the most loved you had ever felt. He pressed a kiss on top of your head and you thought you were going to melt right there.

“Wanna stay for a movie?” you asked, raising your head towards him.

“I’m not watching a chick flick” he warned.

“There’s this crime documentary on Netflix, how about that?” 

“Fine. But eat the damn soup, it’s going to get cold”

You went back to your original position on your bed, pulling the covers and grabbing the laptop that was left behind. Bakugou sat on your side, grabbing a pillow and using it to rest his back.

Once you two were settled, you pressed play and Bakugou handed you the soup thermos. You took out another tofu and giggled to yourself.

“You love me”

“Already regretting saying that” Bakugou grunted, putting his arm around your shoulders. He let out a sigh and paused the movie again, turning his head towards you. “Listen. I obviously feel a bunch of shit for you. But it’s still… was it that easy? I’ve been putting my fucking head through the wall trying to understand and suddenly the answer was soup?” he asked in disbelief. “I love you. I get that now, but… I’ve never felt that before. So everything is still fucking confusing, not gonna lie”.

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re both kind of new at this, so please don’t take it so hard. I mean, yes, think about it, analyze your feelings just know that I’ll be right there” you smiled softly,

“Thought you broke up with me ‘cause I couldn’t sort out my fucking feelings” he reminded you.

“Yeah” you let out a small laugh. “I may have been a tad wrong. I mean, you were an asshole and you did need to sort out your feelings, but... trying to understand our feelings isn’t something that just stops. I think our feelings will always change through time. I think loving me now will feel different to loving me one year from now. But as long as, above all that, it is love... we’ll be okay. I just want to keep growing together, you know?”

“You’re so fucking cheesy” Bakugou sighed, but pulled you closer to him. You grinned and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

“But you loooove me” you teased him, making Bakugou roll his eyes at you. “You know, I may have to thank Aizawa for sending you here. I must have been wrong about him hating me”

“He sent Deku. I found that green shit outside of U.A., told him to fuck off and that I would do it myself” he grunted. You laughed loudly besides him, almost dropping the thermos on your lap.

“You’re so fucking cute”

“Shut up and resume the movie, asshole”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Bad Boy (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff, and a lil spice ;), No quirk!AU

Summary: You finally get to see your childhood friend Shouto after years of being separated only to find out he’s completely changed.

BGM: “Younger” by Ruel

Word count: 2,781

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: God this photo fucked me up good when I first saw it.

I saw this picture on my search for images for my last Todo post aaaaand yeah, pretty self explanatory. I got to thinking, what if this poor baby finally snapped one day and was like "FUCK ENDEAVOR AND HIS ENTIRE PROGRAM, IM NOBODY'S MASTERPIECE" and he went the complete opposite direction. So enjoy a little bit of OOC Todoroki and a bit of a longer post than my usual stuff!

I’m really really sorry about not updating in the past few days.  I was really swamped by college work and studying, and I was mentally exhausted and physically tired every day.  Today wasn’t my day and I almost had a breakdown because a lot of things piled up in me, but I had to pull myself together somehow.  Hopefully, after this week, I’ll go back to a somewhat regular posting schedule.  Thanks for being patient with me guys, I really appreciate it :)

When my mom told me Shouto will be going to the same high school as me, I was expecting the same buttoned-up, shy, good boy from elementary school.  Oh boy, was I wrong.

The boy I bump into in the hallway definitely looks like Shouto, but the only thing that's the same is his mismatched hair and eyes.  Everything else about him was much different.  His entire energy was different, even from the fraction of a second I focused on his face.

"Shouto?" I call when he's about to brush past me.

I don't think he's expecting someone to know him on the first day, pausing and looking down curiously.

The most shocking feature of all is the scar on his left side, a red blotch that covers the left side of his face, starkly contrasting his brilliant turquoise eye; a single ray of light in a scarlet sky.

As I'm gaping at the puckered skin, his eyebrows furrowing at my face as recognition slowly dawns on him.  "(Y/n)?"

I'm relieved that he at least remembers me.  "Yeah, hey."  I don't really know what to do now.  My first instinct is to hug him, but something tells me he isn't a fan of that sort of thing anymore.  There's a coldness between us that's thick as a knife.  "How have you been?"

"Fine," he answers curtly.  His hands are stuffed into his pockets, leaning back in a way that seems uncharacteristic of him and more like a ruffian.

Does his not want to talk to me?  I don't blame him, I haven't been in his life for a good eight years.  "How are your parents?"

His jaw clenches.  "Fine."

Oh.  I struck a nerve.  "Do you wanna catch up at lunch?  What class are you in?"

"1-A."  Overjoyed that we share the same class, I'm about to open my mouth, but he interjects, "But I don't think we should talk."  That was the last thing he said before he strolls past me.

I'm stunned, following his receding back through the sea of students.  I guess I shouldn't have brought up his parents when I know it's a sensitive topic, but I didn't know what else to say.  And it's probably awkward to see someone you used to be close to talk to you again, but the least he could've been is polite.  That's saying something, because Shouto was always the polite child.

Something is terribly wrong here.

Shouto has definitely changed since we were younger.  He's become a delinquent.

He never even shows up to class.  After our little encounter, he was slumped in his seat until the teacher finished role call, then he just got up and walked out in the middle of class and never came back.  In all the days after that, his seat remained empty even at the beginning of the day.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  What if he happened to get sick and had to stay home?  Then I saw his signature mismatched tuft of hair walking back home in the school yard, and I knew he was skipping.

After a whole two weeks passed of him skipping, I had enough.  The Shouto I know would never cut class even if his life depended on it.  During lunch, I went looking for him in the group of other delinquent kids in the back of the school.

"Todoroki?" the ash-blond ringleader ruffles his hair and scoffs, "Idiot must be off somewhere by himself like the damn loner he is.  He picked a fight with me and I almost beat his ass into oblivion!"

I ball my fists up, more angry at Shouto than the group of boys eyeing me like a pack of wolves.  "You guys are useless," I mumble, about to turn away from them.

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, sweetie?" the honey blond with a black streak in his hair smoothly wraps an arm around me.  "He probably doesn't care about you, you deserve someone else who'll give you his time."

"Fuck off, who said you can touch me?"  I shove his arm away and step back.

"Calm down there," the red head with sharp teeth taunts with a smirk, "You're getting a bit defensive.  You sure you don't need help looking for your little prince?"

"I'm fine on my own, thanks," I huff, turning around to go look for Shouto elsewhere.

"Maybe I'll come with you," the overly-friendly boy blocks my way again.  "If he's not your boyfriend, maybe we can get together sometime?"

"Not interested.  Out of my way, Pikachu reject."  I try to side-step him, but the leader grabs the back of my collar and whips me around so I'm face to face with his bared teeth.

"You're a bit rude, aren't you?  Should I pull your head out your ass for you?"  His crimson eyes glare his murderous intent into me.

I hold my ground, the anger against my irresponsible friend more powerful than any fear of this hothead possibly hurting me.  "Don't act so tough if your talk is cheap."

He cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with me.  "I'll show you cheap talk.  Try waking up next week after I'm done with you!" he snarls.

I mirror his expression.  I don't mind throwing hands at this guy if I have to, blood rushing through me to prepare for the fist fight.  "I dare you-!"

"Enough, (Y/n)."

I can feel his presence right behind me even though he doesn't physically touch me.

Scarlet eyes shift behind me.  "Took you long enough, hot shot.  Your friend has just as much spunk as you, I'll kick both your asses!"

"I'd like to see you try, Bakugou," Shouto responds coldly.  "We both know who'd win."  Keeping his gaze locked on the aggressive male, he harshly grabs my arm and hauls me away.  "Let's go."

I'm fuming with anger when we're back inside the building.  I turn on him when he finally releases me, but he's already starting down the hall.  "Don't walk away from me!  We need to talk!"  I stomp over, following him to an abandoned classroom.  "What the hell is wrong with you?!  First of all, you were a real ass when I talked to you last week.  Second of all, you're not even coming to class like you should.  And now you're already picking fights with that idiot out there?  What's gotten into you Shouto?!"

"You were about to get into a fight as well.  You should thank me," he comments coldly, slipping into a desk with books open on top.

"I could've handled it just fine without you!  The only reason I was even there talking to them was because I was looking for you!"  I hover over him, glaring down so he can tell how angry I am.  "You'e skipped class all week, this isn't like you at all!  How are you supposed to catch-?"

One glance down the the open books shows all the material we've been going over in class.  He's already caught up to today's lesson, writing notes in his book and ignoring my presence.  The entire setup makes me angrier.  "I don't understand you, Shouto.  What kind of act are you trying to pull?  You're not a delinquent, why are you trying to act like one for everyone else?   Or is this all because you're just trying to ignore me?"

His pencil stops moving and it slams down onto the desk.  "A lot happened since you left, (Y/n)," the boy responds.  His quivering voice indicates restriction of intense emotion.

The hurt is apparent across his entire face, calming me down.  My gaze lingers on the left side of his features, over the eye that somehow looks perpetually sad.  "How did you get that scar, Shouto?"

The boy's eyebrows furrow.  "My father never let up on me after you left, and he got worse.  My mother couldn't handle fighting him on her own anymore.  One day, she snapped, told me how unsightly my left side was, and pouring boiling water over my face."  His large hand gingerly covers his reddened skin.  "And my bastard father put her in a mental institution after that.  He did this."

My heart aches for my childhood friend, the boy I took care of and listened to all his problems.  I can't imagine how much pain Rei was going through.  For her to have lost it, she must've held such a heavy burden.  When I had to move away, I felt so guilty about leaving him with all his troubles.  He had no one else to reach out to and it was snatched from him.  There wasn't a day I stopped thinking and worrying over him.  I reach to take his hand and offer comfort.  "Shou-"

Shouto bolts up from his seat, his taller figure hunching over mine, features screwed up in distaste.  "You weren't there when I needed you most."

I'm taken back, hurt more than anything.  "It's not my fault, we were so much younger, I didn't have a choice but to go with my parents."

A dark chuckle erupts from his lips, dismissing my excuses.  "It's fine.  It happened, I've learned to deal with it."

I'm about to blow my top with this kid.  "Yeah, you've dealt really well, haven't you?" I roll my eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My mouth gapes, letting out a sputtered scoff.  "You're kidding.  Just look at you!  You're pretending to be someone you're not!  You and I both know you were never the bad boy type when we were kids.  You're the slightly awkward, naturally smart, driven, hardworking-"

"I was only those things because my father forced them on me," he passes by me, crossing his arms.  "I don't want to be anything that bastard wants anymore.  And if you can't see that, then we were never friends in the first place."

That's a stab in the chest.  How can he say that we were never friends when we used to do everything together?  A surge of fury rushing through me, I grab his arm to keep him from moving any farther.  "You love watching superhero cartoons, your favorite was All Might.  Sometimes, you're so damn lazy that instead of doing homework when you came home, you would sneak in a nap before your dad came home to see you slacking off.  Your favorite food in the entire world is cold soba.  You don't like extremely sweet desserts.  You've always been insecure about how strange your mismatched hair and eyes look, but I always had to assure you that you're still the most handsome guy in our class."

Shouto halfway turns around to look at me.

"If we weren't friends, why do I know so much about you?"  I take another bold step towards him, softening at the underlying pain etched into his features.  "I know you always hated the way your dad expects so much from you.  The only thing you ever wanted in your childhood was to be normal.  The pressure finally crumbled down on you and your mom, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through it.  But you shouldn't abandon everything that you are.  You took after your mom more than your dad; you're sometimes a sassy son of a bitch, but you're kind and have a deep respect for people you admire.  You have a natural sense of humor that you don't even know you have.  You care about the people you're close to, you only struggle with communicating how you feel sometimes."

His lips part slightly, processing everything I just showered onto him.  Guilt eventually creeps up on him, choosing to rub the back of his neck.  "You...always did know just what to say."

I smirk and engulf him into my long-awaited hug.  "Who else would put you back in your place?"

His arms hesitantly wrap around my body, the act of sharing body warmth strange yet familiar to him.  It's a small victory, but I'm relieved that we're back on speaking terms.  I'm ready to resume protecting him as I should.

Shouto shifts in our embrace.  "You said...I struggle with telling people how I feel...?" he mumbles sheepishly near my ear.

My boy perks with confusion.  "Yeah, even when we first-"

"Would it suffice if..."

Before I can turn to search his face for what he could be implying, his grip around me loosens as he pulls back to look at me, one of his warm hands resting against my cheek.  His face looms right in front of me, my breath catching in surprise, before he presses his lips to mine softly.  The weightlessness in my stomach is unmistakable.

As quick and unexpected as it came, it also left, Shouto's half lidded gaze resting on me from a small distance away.  All I can do is stare off dazed, still trying to process what just happened.

He leans back against the nearest desk in the front row.  "I guess I should've asked first."  I can see his cheeks and his ears turn almost as flushed as the color of his hair despite his hand covering half his face to hide it.  "But it was the only way I can think to get my point across without stumbling over words."

My heart still flutters trying to recover back to normal, my knees shaking as I lean against the teacher's desk for stability.  I resist the urge to touch my lips like a shocked schoolgirl, but I'm still trying to process the whole thing.  "You know," I cough, "We did already kiss when we were like...five, so this wasn't really our first.  But I don't usually count that-"

The intense color fades from his face almost at once, a darkness creeping into his gaze.  "Then," he pins me back into the desk, hands on both sides of the wood to trap me, "I shouldn't have any qualms about doing it again."

Contrasting from his strong setup, his next kiss is still shy and hesitant.  After exchanging a couple more tentative lip-caresses that still make my head spin, he's gotten his feet wet enough to go harder, establishing a rhythm between us.  As his kisses intensify, his hands reach up to cup both sides of my nape, fingers tangling in my hair desperately and tilting my head up for a better angle.  My own hands grasp the collar of his uniform, pulling him closer into the heat of the moment.

His body pushes me practically into sitting on top of the desk, moving one of his knees between my legs as he lets ones of his hands roam down to grip my waist.  The sudden tug elicits a minute gasp, allowing Shouto to nip at my bottom lip before tugging my head back to trail soft kisses down my jaw.  My fingers thread through his soft locks, letting him massage my neck with his mouth.

"W-Where did you learn all this?" I breathe out unsteadily, my breath refusing to return.

He straightens up and captures my lips in another slow kiss.  "You'll never know."  Another one.  "I've admittedly imagined this for a while."  The next kiss is much deeper, a hum vibrating from his chest as his fingers dig into my side again.  "You're special, so dear."  His mumbles between kisses become more incoherent as his kisses become messy.

"Shouto."  I finally manage to push him away for me to breathe and calm my dizzy head.  Both of us are panting.  His half-lidded eyes and flushed face tempt me, but the fear of someone walking by suddenly alerts in my mind.  "Someone might see us.  Besides, isn't there something you need to say?"

His brow lifts.  "I'm...sorry for being rude to you last week."

"That was needed, too," I chuckle, "But there's something else."

Confusion crosses his features.  "Have I done something else wrong?"

My hands slide down to grip his hands.  "Don't you need to ask me to date you officially?"

The tint of rose on his cheeks intensifies a shade.  "I thought it was clear already..."

Another chuckle bubbles from my lips and I lean up to kiss his warm cheek.  "I'll let it pass because I want to date you too."  His face begins to light up in joy, but I push off from the desk and tow him out of the room.  "But you have to start coming to class again."

Shouto catches up to keep pace with me and presses a kiss to my forehead.  "Done."

"And you need to see a therapist, Mr. Bad Boy."

He breaks out into a smile at that nickname.  "I'll think about it."

[stomp-that-ho-regard]

Needed to get this campaign wrap-up rant off my chest...

This is the specific part that irked me:

MATT: "While he never voiced this in game, Caleb's feelings for Jester have been an important part of his journey. Did he ever come close to confessing? How was playing such a long lasting, one-sided love after our last campaign's bittersweet ending for a Vax and Kiki?"

LIAM: I was never going to do romance of any kind, one-sided or otherwise in this campaign, because I felt like we really explored that pretty heavily campaign one. I think you'll remember Jester drove Caleb nuts at the beginning of the campaign, and so it was nothing that I ever expected at all. And then when they were in, was it Rexxentrum wherever the dance hall was. And I alluded to this earlier, dancing was never anything that I imagined for Caleb, but it was just like, and you were asking him to dance, Jester was asking him to dance. I was like, "Oh, this could be an interesting way to like sort of seed my story, that we're not really around yet." And there was something about, not the dancing, but the way that Jester treated him kindly after the fact like his response was to be like, "I'm going to go fucking vomit in a street, and just be by myself," and she wouldn't let it happen. And that was just like this first little moment where someone was like-- Everyone in the Nein-- I want to answer another question while I'm answering this. I wonder if we had gone that different direction that we talked about earlier where we didn't go crime, and we had gone into Rexxentrum earlier, and if Caleb had started interfacing with his past earlier, I think he would have had a gnarlier, more severe trajectory in this campaign. If he had touched his past sooner, it would have changed what he was, but he spent way too much with the Nein, for when we finally did catch up to them, it was too late, that he'd already been healed enough by the Nein, it didn't matter. And everyone in the Nein had an effect on Caleb, they all had their love like in different ways; Yasha, he could relate to. Caduceus was like a guru that confused but inspired. Fjord, who Caleb thought was real hot at the beginning of the campaign, was a great leader and, like, just I don't know, I feel like he was his closest friend, outside of Nott, early in the campaign. Beau brought tough love. Veth was this ultimate support no matter what happened. But what started to happen with Jester was that she was treating Caleb like the person-- She was treating him as if he was the person he should have been. Like none of it had happened. And he became like-- It just got in him, but he would have never wanted to saddle her with all his shit. And the difference, like-- There was also a point in the campaign where I could see, in Yasha's absence, Beauregard warming up to her, and I already quietly been thinking and going like, "Well, I'll just have this little thing that maybe fans will see," and some did early on, like it was silent. It was all silent. And then I was like, "Well, Travis is never going to do it." Oh, Travis just came online, so the entire side of the table quietly like, "Oh," at Jester for a while. But Caleb knew that Beau and Fjord would've been far better for her, because they would have put aside anything for Jester and made her their number one. And Caleb knew that, as much as she like changed him and helped him in a very specific way, and and he quietly fell in love with her and like a Jane Austen, I'm never going to say it. That he would never have set aside the things that he was trying to do. He would never have set aside trying to either get back to his parents and fix that. He would never set aside trying to undo the Cerberus Assembly if he were strong enough, so, like, that was too all-consuming, and so he would never wanted to saddle her with it, so it was always going to stay inside. And there were multiple times in the campaign where Jester teasingly needled Caleb, and I was terrified that you would say the word "Insight check," multiple times.

LAURA: I think I did it once.

LIAM: Well, you must have rolled really low when you did because I did my best to like pull faces at you, and poo poo it, and do something silly to dodge out of those situations.

LAURA: Are you secretly in love with me?

LIAM: And yeah, you said that, and I went like (blows raspberries) that's fucking ridiculous with my face, and we moved on. (laughter)

LAURA: It's so funny when you joke about the whole table being in love with Jester because Jester had, like, no concept of it at all. Her whole upbringing was everybody being in love with her mother, and her whole, and she knew she's so different from Marion, in her appearance, and the way she presents herself that-- To her, that is what people want, that's what everybody would be in love with. And so there was never-- She would never have thought in a million years that Beau would have been interested, or that Caleb would have been interested, or that Fjord would have been interested. She tried to be Marion and when she was coming on to him in the early campaign, and obviously, it did not work. So she was like, "Okay, then-- Nobody's-- That's not going to happen for me." So it just like turned off in her brain, like nobody will.

TRAVIS: There was a moment where that stopped, too, because like you doing the thing that you thought your mom did and that worked, you know, Fjord's like, "I've never been flirted with before, I don't know what this is. Stop doing it." All that behavior stopped, and you like let the happy Jester fall away. Like, I think it was on the sea, right, like with the jellyfish scene. And then it all happened.

MARISHA: That's when you started crying. There was a few times where there was these moments of Jester smiling, but tears were streaming down her face.

TRAVIS: Yeah.

MARISHA: Trying to be the happiest person in the room. And then, yeah. I don't know. Jester always had this, but I think why Jester is so enigmatic, and so easy fall in love with is because she is the purest person in the room, so that it invites this kind of--

LIAM: Which doesn't even mean innocent, it just means the purest person--

MARISHA: Pure, yeah. It's just very endearing and it got in the way-- and this is almost going to sound condescending-- but almost in the way that a child is where if a little girl runs up to you, and they're like, "Look at this card, I think I want to cover the whole thing in glitter." You kind of have no choice, but to be like, "Yeah, that's a great idea."

LAURA: Yeah.

MARISHA: Cover the whole thing, and like, even if it's bad. She felt like almost like the perfect exercise for "Yes, and-ing." Like, the concept of "Yes, and-ing," because half of them were terrible ideas, but you were like, "Yeah, brilliant."

LAURA: Also, I feel that people are drawn to somebody who sees the best in them, right? You're drawn to somebody that loves you, and she just has an unconditional love for like everybody--

LIAM: She changes everyone she meets, including a hag in a hut.

MARISHA: Yeah.

TRAVIS: Yes.

Laura’s answer here is, for the most part, true. Jester was always pretty oblivious to people being into her. That was a pretty clear character trait. However, that still doesn't explain her roleplaying choices after Beau’s confession. And I wish someone was able to ask her about that and get a direct answer. Why was there a behavior shift? Was it just Laura trolling and teasing Marisha about it, or was Laura actually trying to force Beau to confess directly?

There was a pretty condescending post about this that I found in the discourse tag that said: I know it won't happen cause people never cared about what she says anyway, but Laura confirming again that Jester never knew about Caleb and Beau's feelings for her should be enough to stop the dumb takes like "bj was happening before the hiatus but then they decided to change it" or "Jester was falling in love with Caleb and she changed it" or whatever.

‘Laura confirming again’ Again? What other time has she said this?

‘Jester never knew about Caleb and Beau’s feelings’ Laura said that ‘She would never have thought in a million years that they would be interested’ and included Fjord in that section too, so whatever point this person’s trying to make is moot.

Countering that, I want to say, that nothing in Laura’s answer seemed to give the impression that Jester would have turned down Beau (or, hate to say it, even Caleb) had they actually confessed to her. There’s nothing in her answer to imply that Jester could not have reciprocated those feelings had she known. Nowhere did I get the implication that Jester was only ever interested in men and that Fjord was the only viable choice. (Laura still has not addressed Jester’s sexuality. FJ shippers love to ignore that, and still swear up and down that she’s straight.)

Now when Marisha piped in, she didn’t even focus on Beau’s feelings, and the depth of what she was feeling at the time. Instead, she’s wrote them off. Again. Intentionally minimizing and essentially doubling down on what was said in ep108. That it’s just so easy for anyone to fall for Jester, even going as far as calling her ‘pure’. Basically infantilizing her, by comparing her behavior to that of a child which yes, Marisha, does sound condescending. (You can add that to the list of ‘sparkles’ ‘confetti’ and ‘shiny’.) And that’s it. That’s the extent to which she talks about it.

Also, the fact that the Beaujester stuff was only brought up (very briefly and casually), as a sort of ‘b’ topic to WJ. Liam got to go off on this whole extremely long-winded reminiscing answer because he got a direct question about it. It’s like, “And none for Beaujester!” Once again, Caleb’s feelings being given more weight than Beau’s ever were. 

So, another kick in the teeth. Not so much from Laura. But from Marisha. The person who MADE THE CHOICE to inject Beau developing feelings for Jester into the canon narrative. The way Marisha talks about it now, it’s just a complete mind fuck as to why she made the decision to have Beau confess at all. Why even open that door? Even if she felt, at the time, that Beau would feel this way, she could’ve just kept it to herself. And not made waves about it. And not doubled down on it the following week. And not had continued for at least THREE MONTHS after that to roleplay Beau STILL having obvious feelings for Jester. I mean, come the fuck on.

Look at ep93 with the Hag. When Jester was telling the group that she gave the Hag something she had never given anyone before. Beau frowned and said, “Did you kiss her?” Beau had it so bad she got jealous of the Hag. Jealous of a fucking monster. Then ep94. Beau wanted to climb a tree to get a better look at their surroundings. Out of the blue, Jester smacked Beau’s ass to give her Guidance. She shot up the tree like a rocket and Jester was impressed. Marisha had to make it a point to say, “She thinks it’s the Traveler. It’s just ‘cause Jester smacked my ass though. I’m just very invigorated by THAT.” And of course ep99, with the sunburn compliment.

Marisha was definitely keeping this thing going, all the way up until the hiatus.

So why the weird answers? Why the vagueness? Why does she seem so insistent on driving home to the viewers that Beau’s feelings were/are no big deal. Does she think that talking about Beau’s feelings to the fullest and reminiscing (like Liam did) on a few of their moments would be some sort of insult to BY?

I will never stop being baffled.