#he just wants to have a bad time. and we should let him.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Unlucky Overtime

SUMMARY: The Spelldrive game against Royal Sword Academy was very close. But it was in overtime that the teams broke the tie and Night Raven College... lost. They were very upset by this loss and need your comfort even if they deny it.

CHARACTERS: Spelldrive Club 🧹 (Leona Kingscholar; Ruggie Bucchi; Epel Felmier)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 780 words per character.

COMMENTS: Following the same premise as what I wrote for Basketball Club and Track and Field Club of "What if they lost?"

When I started writing about comforting them when they lose, I ended up finding it more interesting and cute than celebrating when they win. I think it's in the bad times that feelings are most intimate and honest.

When I wrote Epel's part, I was upset about something IRL and it ended up helping me writing him. 😂

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: If there are competitive players who love to win, they are the members of the NRC Spelldrive Club. Leona, Ruggie and Epel especially. They were playing with everything, especially because of the school they were playing against. The game against Royal Sword Academy was very close, as expected.

When the game ended they needed to break the tie and so the game went into overtime. But unfortunately, this did not give your school the victory.

Leona seemed upset about losing, as did the other players on his team. But even so, he was the calmest in comparison.

They congratulated the RSA students on their victory (or as close to it as possible, if we ignore the slight growls and murderous looks). They avoided unnecessary interactions until they could leave the field.

You know very well how Leona hates to lose, especially when he tries so hard. And so you knew you had to check on him and try to comfort him, even if he says he doesn't want you to.

You go to the locker rooms exit, but you don't see Leona coming out. Many of the players looked at you angrily when they passed by, but knowing how close you were to Leona, they didn't have the courage to even be rude to you directly.

When you see Ruggie, you ask him about Leona. He tells you that Leona left right after he came in, that he went in, grabbed his things and left. He didn't even change his clothes. This worries you and Ruggie.

“You should go check on him.” Ruggie tells you. “And even if he says he wants to be alone, don't listen, okay? He likes your company even if he doesn't like to admit it. I would also warn you not to pressure him, but you already know that.”

“And where do you think he went?” You ask.

“Where do you think he went? Come on, it's not like we don't know his favorite spots.”

You decided to try your luck at the Botanical Garden, and it looks like you were right, but you didn't realize it right away. You go to one of his favorite spots under a certain tree. You look around, but you don't see anyone, until you suddenly see a tail appearing hanging down beside you. You look up and see Leona lying on a thick branch above you.

“I don't need your comfort.” Leona says, without moving and without looking at you. “Go to your dorm. It's late.”

“You wanted me to see you.” You say. “Otherwise you wouldn't let your tail fall beside me.”

“Believe what you want, herbivore.”

His tail was still there by your side and you don't resist to touch it to mess with him. You reach your hand towards his tail, but at the last second it swings, lightly hits you in the face and returns to Leona's lap, away from you. He finally looks at you, but with an annoyed face and growls.

“I'm not in the mood to play. Go away before I bite you... Don't look at me like that.” He adjusts his head again and stops looking at you.

You sit down against the tree trunk. He growls again, but doesn't move. Just like with cats, you'll just stay there waiting for him to come to you. You use your phone or read a book while you wait.

A few minutes later it starts to get colder, you start to notice it and curl up a little. Suddenly something falls on top of your head, you uncover yourself and see that it is a long coat. Leona's captain's coat. You look up and see him in the same lazy position but without the coat and just with the black clothes and belts. You put it on and you start to warm up right away because it was still warm from him having been wearing it.

A few more minutes later and you are startled again by something that falls right in front of you. Or rather, that lands right in front of you.

“Don't you get tired?” Leona asks you, crouching down and looking you in the eyes. “Of being so stubborn?” He has that unbothered, but still slightly annoyed face.

You put down what you had in your hands and stretch your legs on the floor. He gives you a little throat growl. You smile, but he growls at you more, and suddenly he throws himself at you as if he's going to attack you. But he didn't. He stopped very close to your face.

“Yes. I'm angry that I lost.” He says in a low voice. “And that's why you shouldn't have come to me. I don't need pity or words of comfort.”

“Do you really think I pity you?” You ask. “I wasn't worried about you being angry. I was worried that you would fall back into that depressive state of feeling like life is unfair and it's not worth trying anymore.”

His green eyes remain fixed on yours and suddenly he kisses you eagerly. You already know him well enough to know what truly hides behind those roars and tough guy mask. His instinct was to reward you for it.

After he breaks the kiss he lays his head either on your chest or in your lap and hugs you. You are trapped now until he is willing to let you go.

Ruggie was so angry that Leona had to calm him down. All the NRC players congratulated the RSA players, but clearly only because it was what they had to do. The tension and animosity could be cut with a knife. After that, the NRC players go straight to the locker rooms. You feel like you should check on Ruggie.

You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. Some of the players who passed you on their way out gave you bad looks, but knowing how close you were to Ruggie, they did nothing more than just grumble into the air.

When Ruggie finally left he was still angry. When he saw you, his expression didn't change much other than being a little embarrassed.

“Hi, sorry, I don't have time.” He apologizes, clearly trying to avoid you, but smiling. “I want to put these clothes in the wash ASAP.” He walks around you and starts going away.

You follow him.

“I was thinking about trying those new donuts from Sam's shop with you.” You say.

You see his ears twitch with interest.

“Yeah... but you know, I'm not really hungry. And since they're new, those donuts are still expensive. I'm waiting for him to lower the price a little.”

“Don't worry, I already bought them for you.”

Ruggie stops! And looks at you in surprise.

“You did?! Why?”

“I wanted to give them to you after the game anyway. You know, for the good game.” You see him pouting. “I didn't buy them as a consolation gift. I did it before the game started. I was going to give them to you even if you had won.”

He seemed more satisfied with that explanation and you took out the box you had in your backpack.

“How come I don't smell it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, so I asked Sam if there was a way to hide the scent from you. He used a spell on the box.”

Ruggie asks you if he charged extra for the spell. You said he didn't. Before you open the box, Ruggie suggests that you go to a more chill place. After all, you were still near the locker rooms surrounded by players and spectators.

The Windmill is right behind the coliseum and not many people usually go there. In fact, there was no one else there. The two of you sat on the edge of the stream that surrounded the Windmill. The sound of running water could calm both of you.

You open the box, take out one of the donuts and hold it up to his mouth. He blushes a little, but accepts your offer and takes a bite. You loosen your grip and he takes the donut out of your hand with his mouth.

While he was eating he looked at the water and despite the calming sound his anger returned because of the thoughts that also returned to that game. You could hear him mumbling softly, and see his ears back and his teeth showing.

He finishes eating the donut and stands up abruptly, starting to release his frustration with swearing and cursing to the air, kicking the ground and even pulling up grass. You remain sitting on the floor eating your donut.

As soon as he finishes his emotional outburst, which he always did with his back to you, he finally turns around, dropping his arms and sighing. He kneels down next to you, looks at you with a pout, picks up the box of donuts and takes it from your lap. For a second you think he's going to steal all the donuts for himself, but he sets the box aside and lays his head in your lap as if he's laying it on the pillow after a tantrum. You even hear a dog-like whining. If you pet his head, you might see his tail wagging a little.

The two of you continued eating the donuts as you pet his head and ears to comfort him. When the donuts are gone and the box is empty, he gets up, sitting on the grass next to you. Ruggie looks at you, still a little sad, but calmer and with an affectionate sparkle in his eyes.

He doesn't say anything, he just throws himself into a kiss as a thank you.

EPEL WAS PISSED!!! Leona and Ruggie had to calm him down. Even RSA players were scared to see someone like Epel like that. Like other NRC players he avoided unnecessary interactions with players from the opposing and winning team.

As soon as they were able to retreat to the locker rooms Epel was one of the quickest to leave the field. You knew you should check on him.

You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. You see the other NRC players walk past you, angry about losing and when you finally see Epel coming out of the locker room, the expression on his face is the same if not worse than that of his other teammates, even the vein in his forehead was bulging.

But that changes completely the moment he sees you. His shoulders, and consequently his posture, relaxed and he smiled slightly at you, knowing he couldn't fool you with a big smile. He had a bandage on his nose because of the injury he suffered when he blocked a shot with his face during the game.

You walk over to him and carefully place your hands on his face, showing your concern for his injury. He blushes!

“D-Don't worry. I'm fine, I promise... Gah, wait! Vil’s gonna kill me when he sees me like this!” He suddenly worries.

You say that Vil doesn't need to see him so soon and suggest that the two of you go for a walk so he can clear his head a bit. He sighs and accepts your offer, you are usually right at these times.

“I really need to go for a walk. Or a run. Dagnabbit, I don't even know if walking around the entire campus is enough. If we could leave the camps whenever we wanted and I had a Blastcycle, or... OH! What if you come with me for a broom ride?”

“But you just finished a game of Spelldrive.” You say “Are you sure getting back on a broomstick will be good for you?”

“Don't worry, I can separate a game from a ride. Trust me, it will be good to feel the fresh wind on my face.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

He goes to get his broom and you climb on it behind him, holding on to his torso. The beginning of the ride is pleasant, but eventually he starts to speed up until he reaches a point where you squeeze him and ask him to slow down.

“AH! Sorry, sorry, sorry! My mind went back to that game and I got angry again. I must have started speeding up by accident because of that. Sorry... I think we should stop somewhere for a break.”

He lands on the roof of Ramshackle Dorm.

“Sorry again if I worried you.” He tells you after you both get off the broom. But the ride actually helped me a bit.” Suddenly he grimaces in pain and puts his fingers to the bandage on his nose, it seems his bad mood was returning.

You cup his face and kiss his nose lightly. He blushes a lot again and look away from you.

“I wanted you to see us win.” He admits. “I was so excited to know you were watching. I really wanted to make you proud.”

You tell him that you're proud of him, just as Ruggie and Leona probably are too. Who wouldn't be? He always works so hard to improve. And he's still just a freshman, there will be more opportunities to win, he's just starting out. And for a start, you're sure he played better than a lot of freshmen. You finish by saying that he should rest, especially with an injury like that, and you even offer to take care of it for him if he needs.

“Thank you so much, (Y/N).” He smiles sweetly at you. “I promise I'll give you a win next time.”

If you say that you would prefer him to be more careful, his smile and gaze will become even more affectionate.

“I'll try. Although... hum, nothing.”

You say that now you want to know and he blushes slightly.

“I... I was just thinking that... it must be nice to be taken care of by you. I wouldn't mind getting a shot in the face again for that. Ha ha ha.”

If you hug him, he will freeze for a second, but then he will hug you back and you will feel a loving squeeze, as he whispers a thank you. If you let him, he will kiss your cheek after the hug. And if you want, he will continue with another type of kiss.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[koifishhies]

(via @aq2003)

I do generally agree with op’s point about queercoding villains in media; it hasn’t stood the test of time because with growing acceptance we’ve just come to see those characters as cunty or whatever. it kind of devalues what actually made that character a villain. however I have to lean more toward aq’s point here; I don’t think “taking the gay out of” richard would really work in this instance… because he’s not a villain?

I mean, he was a shitty king and an asshole, but the whole play kind of revolves around the fact that they humanized him by the end.

I’ve said it enough times and so has aq2003 here, but “the point” is that richard goes from unsympathetic to extremely sympathetic. not because he does some righteous action to warrant this change of heart, but due to the way shakespeare frames the narrative. he purposefully gives you an obnoxious bitch you should hate, but then doesn’t give you the satisfaction of seeing his downfall. instead, by the end, you’re left feeling sad for him.

I think it’s interesting to consider how that puts the queercoding in a slightly different perspective. shakespeare baits in the stereotypers with the stereotype, and once he’s got them where he wants them, hits them in the face with these raw displays of humanity. he forces them to confront the fact that, gasp, they are sympathizing with the queer character.

in a social climate (england ~400 years ago) where queerness was seen as nothing but sinful, richard ii subtly made the audience sympathize with a queercoded character!

the whole switch up also makes you stop and confront how you actually feel about the guy. all those reasons you thought you hated him, whether it be his arrogance, his pettiness, his fail twink swag; they don’t actually matter. after all, he didn’t get more sympathetic because he stopped being a gay little freak. he got more sympathetic as he lost power. the real problem was power.

while I agree that this doesn’t work as well for modern audiences because we probably like him a little too much right from the get go, I don’t think the modernized equivalent would be to make him a nepo baby, or a tory, or whatever. I don’t know about you, but if I saw a play that had the objective of making me feel bad for a tory, I would gift the playwright a box of my own shit in the mail. the play needs you to hate him at first, yes, but also to have the ability to sympathize with him by the end. and I feel like in this social climate, no one’s getting sympathetic for a republican.

am I making sense??? do you get what I mean?????

also there is something to be said about the fact that half the reason they deposed him in the first place was because he was too “queer”!! that’s a whole other angle of analysis in which him being queercoded is literally essential to the plot. but I’ll leave that analysis to someone else.

one last thing, though: let’s not forget, this is a historical play at the end of the day. you can’t really take queerness out of this story, because, drum roll, the real richard was probably a bit fruity! robert de vere is often named as a potential lover of his. this is still kind of debated, but even if it isn’t true, him being deposed for being too “queer” very much is. they literally didn’t like him back then because he was too “effeminate.” he tried to stop the war. he prioritized the arts in his court. he was born in france.

so I guess the real fail twink swag… was in our history books all along…

I know that Richard2Shakespeare is played as an obnoxious little twink for political and drama reasons (you’re telling me a queer coded this tragedy etc) and to let the actors chew the scenery a bit, and the indecisiveness is a tragic flaw that sets him apart from the clear penetrating masculinity of eg Bolingbroke etc etc. it’s great that there is a whole play about “the deserved downfall of cunty little maximalist who changes his Starbucks order 3 times with a huge line behind him.” However, I have forgotten what I was great revelation I was going to write here, so here are some richard2shakespeares I found while trying to remember

[igotanidea]

Bound by business: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason x information dealer reader. He only came for the info, but one thing led to another, a bit of whiskey and some teasing and - .... And she's a self made gotham.boss bitch falling for no one...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, dirty talk, p in v, teasing, angst

A/N : Been a while since I wrote smut and a story this long. Let me down gently. XD

***

It was dark and the rain was heavy, doing nothing to hide Jason’s irritation as he speeded on his motorcycle to the bad side of Gotham if there was any good side of Gotham in the first place.

Once having reached his destination, he took his helmet off letting rain wet his ruffled hair and started banging on the door.

His contact in the criminal world had been hard lately and he had no idea why, but the reasons behind the sudden change in the attitude were far from his interest.

HE and Y/N had a long history, went way back to the times when he was Robin and she was a good girl, both memories seeming like a fucking grotesque now.

“Y/N! Open the fuck up!”

“The hell Jason?!”

The door opened but she made no move to invite him inside despite the downpour on the outside. Instead she settled on watching him shake the water off like a dog, deriving some sadistic pleasure from the fact he could barely see with his hair stuck to his forehead and falling into his eyes.  

“The gun shipment. Tonight. I need details. Time, place, figures involved.

“Well hello to you too, Jason. I’ve been fine thanks for asking.” She scoffed and then smirked.

“I don’t have time for this shit-“

“Right, right, of course. I probably should thank you for not putting a gun to my head right away, right?”

“That is to be rectified at any moment now.” He reached towards his holster.

“Don’t be stupid, Jason. You know you only get this far with things because of me. You don’t want to lose an ally, do you?”

“You’re just an information dealer. Plenty of those in Gotham.”

“Mhm. Sure. And how many of them are as skilled as I am?”

He scoffed, pushing right past her, casually shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah by all means, ruin my furniture. Drink?” she asked, heading towards the cabinet

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Wow, someone finally developed some standards. What gives?”

Jason scoffed again.

“Standards, my ass. It’s at your expense so why would I hold back?”

“I might hold you accountable to that in the future. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The glasses clinked and for a moment they both sipped their drinks in silence which gave Jason a second to actually look at her. She was a badass, that was what he knew. But every time he came around to her place, which was not really happening that often, she was almost innocent. Ironically. No make up, comfy clothes, just hoodie and yoga pants. He had seen women try harder to look I-woke-up-like-this.

Y/N was just being comfortable. 

“What’s with the look Jace?” she smirked from under the rim of her glass, her eyes piercing into him.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About why you are suddenly not giving me shit.”

“It’s been a long day if you must know. Long and hard day. My shit giving attitude and my humor might be a little off. ”

“Huh!” he huffed dismissively “hard day? You want to hear about a hard day? The one involving guns and fights? And being stabbed with a knife? Twice?“

“We all have our own definition of a hard day, you fool. You deal with bullets, I deal with people.”

“So you’re basically saying that people are worse than guns? Seriously? Damn, girl you got some audacity there.” He half-laughed, taking another sip of the whiskey and swirling the beverage “so, spill. Which one of your usual charming assholes got under your skin?”

“Luckily someone I do not have any respect for.”

“You have respect for no one, sunshine. But please, do tell. Did you kick him in the groin or punched him in the face?”

“Something like that.” She smirked, clearly so full of herself.

“Please tell me you at least broke his nose.”

“I did no permanent damage, that's all I can say.”

“Meaning you did something painful, but not crippling.” He nodded. He was actually learning to use the same method. Putting a gun to people's heads and shooting them dead was not very useful while searching for info. But then again, he had Y/N for that latter purpose. “Black eye? Twisted arm?”

“I thought you came here about the gun shipment info?” she finally sat on the couch and turned to face him with a hint of tease in her eyes.

“I did. But should it stop me from having a little polite conversation with my favorite partner in crime?” Jason leaned back on the coach with a sly smile

“Mh! I call bullshit.”

“How’s your hand doing?”

The question took her by surprise. Right, the hand, of course he knew about it. She got injured during one of her quests last week and has been dealing with the consequences ever since.

“I’m handling.”

“Uh!” Jason raised his hand stopping her in the middle of the sentence “Let me translate: it hurts like hell but you won’t admit it.” Y/N would never confront her pain – neither physical nor emotional. And yes, he was doing the same but it was easier to notice it in someone else than in himself. “So, given the state of that limb you must have got to that asshole pretty hard. Good job, I’ll give you that. It’s not every day I get to hear about your violent tendencies….” He chuckled and sipped the last of his drink, putting the glass back on the table, his eyes fixed on hers with a mischief in them.

“Oh you know damn well about my violent tendencies…”

“Damn right I do. And don’t I just love every fucking one of them…” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward, never dropping the gaze.  “Nothing sexier than a woman who can handle herself…”

“Oh yeah?” she allowed him the sudden closeness, clearly enjoying the blooming game “never took you for a guy who loved being manhandled..”

“Oh I am not. But I’m a sucker for watching someone deserving of it experiencing that treatment.” Jason's gaze moved down her body appreciatively, lingering on the swell of her breast under the hoodie and the curve of her hips accentuated by that stupid leggings. He knew she had curves under all those clothes. “It’s a fucking turn on.” He added in a husky tone. 

“Is it now…?” she hummed moving a little closer on the couch, her own drink landing on the table as well as she placed palms on his thighs, using it to lean even more forwards, leaving less than an inch between their faces.

“Fuck yeah it is…” his breath caught in his throat a little at the unexpected but not unwelcomed touch. “Seeing you lay someone down with those gorgeous hands of yours….” He licked his lips.

“Mhm… keep talking…” Y/N switched positions, now sitting on his lap, straddling him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he instinctively grabbed onto her hips.  Gods, he was a man and suddenly realized how long it’s been since he had a one night stand, too busy with work.

But this?

This was getting dangerous and deep down he knew that once started, wouldn’t end up easily.

This was not going to be just scratching an itch like it usually was. This would hurt a lot and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.

But he couldn’t stop, the primal part of his brain already awakened by the closeness of her body, her almost gentle caresses and the soft, sweet yet seductive tone he had never heard before but she had mastered to perfection.

“I said…” she leaned to his ear “keep talking…”

“Fucks…” he groaned staring at her with undisguised lust “the though of you getting dirty… rough….”

“Uh-huh…” she hummed and started grinding on him. Slowly, almost torturously, causing Jason to take a sharp inhale of breath, but quickly composing himself.

“You always fight like that, princess?” his hands wandered from her hips to her ass, squeezing the ample flesh, pulling her closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Only for the special ones.”

 “Special ones, huh?” he held her hips tighter guiding her movements “Like when you want to prove a point? Or-“

“Or. Definitely or.”

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, giving him not-so-subtle hints.

“Or when you want to send a message?” he willingly moved his lips down her skin, sucking on the pulse points, earning a little, delicious moan and hand tangling in his hair. “A message that you’re taken?”

“Am I taken? Can’t remember…” she pulled back, taking off her hoodie and discarding her bra.

“Fuck yeah, you’re taken.” His lips moved lower, kissing her collarbone and cleavage.

“Good to know…” she made a quick movement to pull and toss his shirt somewhere in the room intensifying her movements on his ever growing tent “I think the gun shipment changed the location…”

“You fucking tease.” Jason hissed, changing the positions so she was trapped beneath his body. “Eight inches. Semi-automatic. Brand new and ready for action.”

“Well don’t I love being at a gunpoint…” her hand found a way to his groin, starting to palm the bulge, enjoying the way she seemed to still be in control, even with him on top.

“Oh yeah? A gun to your head?” he groaned, barely controlling himself.

“Maybe not to my head…”

Y/N wriggled on the bed, rolling on her belly for a moment to reach for the condom in the nightstand and that moment was enough for Jason to get hypnotized by that bounding piece of ass.

“I really hope the biggest size will fit you—”

“Fuck, I’ll stuff you so full you won’t walk for a week.”

He pushed her legs open with his knee, doing a quick job of rolling the latex on his length, teasing her clit with a few featherlight touches, loving how she seemed to beg for more with every squirm and entered her in one deep thrust.

“Big enough for you?” he bit her earlobe licking the shell right after, his voice low.  

“I – mmm… shit…”

“Have you ever had this big?” The thrusts were long and hard and deliciously painful at first before turning into a series of perfectly aimed and ideally paced movements that made her gasp from pleasure. “Answer the question, princess.”

“I – ah! Ah, shit!” nails of the right hand dug into the mattress hard enough to make holes, the other hand reaching for the pillow, quickly pressing it between her head and the headboard to prevent the potential concussion. He was not a semi-automatic gun machine. More like a rifle, never shooting blanks. Thank fucks, she was prepared in many ways and started taking pills a few weeks prior. Not that it was her plan or anything. 

“What was that?” he rocked faster and harder, pulling all the way back only to slam right back inside. “Too much for you, slut?”

“Make me come! Make me fucking come to give me incentive to answer that stupid question!”

“Seems to me like I’m fucking your brains out. Is that right, pretty? Am I fucking you stupid?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah… you’re so fucked, baby.” He was now hitting her cervix with such a speed and strength as if his life was depending on it. “Fucked by no. One. Else. But. The. Red. Hood.“ Each word was punctuated by a deep movement and if someone asked she would swear it was reaching her stomach. Or maybe she just ate something bad.

“It’s an – ohhh! – oh shit!” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “It’s an honor for you to have me like this….” There was no way she was going to let him win and really fuck her stupid.

“Oh I know… But no one else is big and strong enough for you” he circled her clit, bending head to suck her nipple, leaving a wet trail from one breast to another “now, come for me… come baby…”

She bit her lips so hard that a blood appeared on the bottom one, quickly licking it off, turning Jason wild. He was a sucker for blood. Not only the shooting kind, clearly.

“Yeah…. Yeah…oh! Oh!”

She could feel his pace faltering a little as he was so close to his own climax.

And used it against him, hitting right into the momentum, somehow managing to end up on top of him again, hands on his chest, breasts bouncing, ass slapping on his cock as she rocked up and down, still in control.

“Fuck! Y/n!”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right, moan my name as you come Jason Todd. Red Hood. Whatever. Scream my name.”

“You- where did you learn how to take cock like that—”

“You wouldn’t like the answer. Now come on!” It was immensely hard to keep herself from diving into the sea of release but she knew how to get what she wanted. Years of effing experience in this fucked up place.  

His hands were on her ass, squeezing mercilessly, almost to the point of pain as he finally reached the stars.

Only then she allowed herself to let go as well. Winning, yet again, falling on top of him like a marathon runner who scored a gold medal even if there were truly no losers in this game of love. At least not in terms of the body.

“Damn… you’re heavy…” he hissed, wrapping arms around her, trapping her on top of him, nuzzling nose into her hair. She was right with him, next to him, so warm and soft and tender, making him feel so good, so nice, so liberated.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my fat ass bouncing on you.”

“Too tired to even try to pretend.” He whispered, trying to kiss her softly, but much to his surprise, she rolled off him, swiftly avoiding his grip, grabbed the hoodie from the floor and stood up fixing her hair, letting it fall down her back like a h/c waterfall.

“Well this was nice.” Her tone was flat, unamused and the warmth in his chest turned into icy cold right away.

“Wait… what? But-“

“I’m gonna go piss now. Can’t risk any STIs. Those hurt like hell, not to mention it’s kind of embarrassing explaining to my Ob-gyn why I wasn’t careful again. I swear one more time and she’ll drop me as a patient.”

Was this a joke to her!?

“But-“ he stuttered looking at her with wide eyes. This was not what he expected at all and there were like a million questions in his head.  “Y/n-“

“I’ll be right back, but hey – hygiene right? You should get yourself cleaned too” she grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it on him, effectively flattening his still semi-hard cock and his appetite and energy for another round.

“But –“

“This is serious shit Jason! Gotta stay healthy if we’re to repeat it.”

She winked suggestively, rushing to the bathroom, leaving a little crack in the door, so he could faintly hear her peeing.

What was wrong with this girl!?

This must have been just some stupid nightmare, a product of his tired, messed up, beaten brain--

“So. You wanted to talk about something?” she was back about a minute later. “hey, you still didn’t clean up?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” she touched her right buttock and hissed at the contact with a scratch his hands left on the skin.

“This no-nonsense attitude!”

“What else do you want me to do?” she tilted her head, looking at him quizzically

 “Oh I don’t know!” he finally lost his patience, feeling too vulnerable and too emotional for his own liking, feeling the compelling need to cover himself. Both physically and emotionally. “Normally people like to – oh, I don’t know – talk after sex? Maybe cuddle a little? But you’re just like oh, hey, it was a nice fuck, thanks for letting me use you, dressing and washing up like a freaking germophobe!” he got tangled in his pants, hardly preventing himself from tripping which would be even more condescending.

“Jason-“

“I’m being serious here Y/N!”

‘You called me slut.” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

‘I called you – ok, fine! Fine I called you slut. Is that why you’re suddenly icing me out?”

“No.”

“No!? That’s it? That’s all you got? I can’t fucking believe it!” he punched the wall leaving a little dent, but the broken pride clearly did not affect Y/N.

“Could you please calm down and stop depriving me of my deposit on this place? I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so emotional about it Jason.” It might have been a mirage but from Jason’s perspective it looked like Y/N literally rolled her eyes!

“We had sex!”

“Yes? and?” She hesitated giving him a chance to explain further but he was just standing there with eyes wide and mouth open. “Oh come on, this was just an itch, right? We’re bound by business, not pleasure. You don’t mix two explosives like us. It’s just unwise. We’re both adults, sex is not always about deeper feelings-”

She was still talking but he could hardly hear anything with the way blood was humming in his ears, successfully blocking any other bullshit coming out of her mouth (thankfully for Jason though).

Bound by business.

Mixing explosives.

Unwise.

Unwise!

Fucking unwise!?

“Jason?” she smiled softly, as if nothing happened, bending down and searching his eyes. “That gun shipment of yours? It happens in an hour at the docks and everything is orchestrated by Black Mask. I would take some backup if I were you, it might get ugly.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Without any further words he walked outside, feeling defeated like never before and the nail to the coffin was the sound of the door being locked right after him.

He should have known better that a girl who climbed this high in the criminal underworld would be fucked up in some way.

But how can one prepare for the reality of the broken heart?

Back up his ass. He was about to turn his newly found pain into rage and kill each and every one of Sionis’ men himself.

The moon was about to turn bloody that night….

And the worst part?

She was still his information dealer. The best in Gotham, regardless of what he might have said before.

And he was still going to work with her.

Do you know that warning : don’t drink and drive or better : don’t drink and text?

Yep.

Another one should be the warning of developing feelings for your literal partner in crime. 

@lettucel0ver @oohyasumi @apple---cider---vinegar

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

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[coffeebooksrain18]

Just saw this post and wow I'm disgusted.

So usually I don't do this type of thing as I find it weird but I wasn't gonna reblog this person because I'm someone doesn't want drama. Also for anyone wondering I have blocked them because I don't like their page and mostly because of this post.

So let's start!

Viserys didn't get "bad vibes" he was a neglectful father who forced these children onto his 14 year old wife and then left her. I don't want want here that he was king or that they weren't Aemma’s. Because firstly we know Viserys was there for Rhaenyra so obviously he can find time for his children he just chooses not to do so with the green children. Also the whole they weren't from Aemma argument is funny to me as in the book it is heavily implied Viserys was cheating on Aemma with Alicent (also implied she didn't want it) so obviously it isn't that they aren't from Aemma.

Next this sentence alone shows how TBs can't understand Aegons character. They hate Alicent for hitting him but then want him hit more? Make it make sense. Also yes Alicent hitting Aegon is awful. But you need to keep in mind each time she does she's in high stress situations and we see she wants to hurt Viserys instead. Ie Rhaenyra trying to betroth Helaena to Jace, Aemond losing his eye, Aegon raping a maid. I'm not excusing these actions as they are wrong, I'm only stating you need to see the whole picture before judging the painting.

I truly believe Luc shouldn't have taken Aemonds eye I don't care how scared he was it was cruel and uncalled for. I don't care if he was 6 he had enough time to notice Jace threw sand into Aemonds eye before slicing Aemonds face. Plus he didn't even try and aim for a arm or leg because he could've from where he was on the ground. He chose to stand up and slice Aemonds eye as he already couldn't see to defend himself and I will always say Luc is in the wrong and should have been punished for what he did.

I have made many posts about Helaena, in fact I made one today. But let's go over this again. Helaena had no reason to run to Rhaenyra. She had no reason to trust her nor did Rhaenyra have reason to trust Helaena. Helaena is MARRIED to Aegon, that is her Brother, her Husband, and the Father of her children. I don't care how you all think it was Helaena did the right thing. She chose the people who loved her and cared for her over a woman who in book bad mouthed her and ridiculed her and her siblings in front of all the court.

Now I am done with my rant have a nice day.

[noirsdoll]

-> pretty please? bonus!

all aboard! | the dinner party | room for three

pairing: curly / wife!reader / jimmy

words: 4.4k

tags: rape, threesome (f/m/m), painal, double penetration, light cucking, curly and reader are married, jimmy went to jail, mentions of jimmy's abuse towards anya, homoerotic codependent friendship, half of this is porn, no crash au

notes: this is more of a bonus chapter than a third one just cuz i think curly and reader's dynamic switches up a lot with the introduction of jimmy... there's a lot going on here LMAO i hope you like it!! i wanted to touch more on the similarities between jimmy and reader w this one!

read it on ao3

Jimmy’s walking, talking, “Get Out Of Jail Free Card” is pissing you off.

“No, we’re not letting him stay here!” You exclaim and for the first time in your relationship, this is real anger. He can’t be serious.

Curly pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and sighs, the other arm rocking your newborn. “It’s only going to be for a month at most. Just till he gets back on his feet.”

Your jaw drops. “We have a kid, Grant. And Jimmy’s a convicted sex offender.”

“He wouldn’t do something like that, not with a child.” Curly cups your cheek, his gaze blindingly warm. “Jimmy’s learned his lesson.”

You stare at him in bewilderment. You’ve found it, Curly’s hard limit and it’s for Jimmy of all people. The guy who’s best known for sticking his dick in anything remotely concave.

You were hoping you’d have a few months of peace before this happened, not for your husband to go behind your back and pay Jimmy’s bail. Curly can soothe you and fuck you all he wants, you are not forgiving him for this.

You bury your face in your hands. “Alright. Fine. Fine! But if he tries anything I’m kicking him out.”

“We’ll be fine, honey. Don’t be so negative.” Curly hands you your kid. “I think you gotta change him.” He stinks.

Jimmy stinks.

You know for a fact that prisons have showers and soap, so he has no excuse. You may be biased, however, considering he’s going to be sharing this beautiful house with both you and Curly.

It feels like he’s smearing his filth over your clean floors— the first thing you order him to do is take a shower. Thankfully, Curly agrees, kissing your hair and bidding you farewell for the day like he always does. Jimmy makes a face and says nothing, heading for your bathroom.

As the shower runs, you take the time to cook yourself some food. Instinctively, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once. Down the hall, to the bathroom right across from your son’s room. You know he wouldn’t, Curly said he wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

You have a life that you need to put before your own now, a life that needs your protection. This was all for your kid at the end of the day. You ignore the anxiety festering in your gut, turning back to your cooking.

Eventually, Jimmy plops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, wearing Curly’s pajamas. His wet hair falls in strings. The silence drags before he speaks. “You look pretty good for just having a kid,” he draws out slyly.

“Thanks.” You don’t look at him, off put by the compliment.

You hear the telltale creak of him leaning back in his chair. “It’s a nice life you got, huh? Curly’s treating you well?”

“Well, he’s my husband. Of course he should.”

Jimmy just scoffs, about to say something more before he’s interrupted by your baby crying. Instantly, you turn off the stove and take down the hall. Finally, an excuse to get away from him and his thinly-veiled jealousy.

Unfortunately, Jimmy trails after you, pretending not to follow you while also clearly doing so. He catches the door when you go to close it, bullying his way in. “Am I such bad company?”

“No.” You think Jimmy is closer to head lice than anything likeable, but he can be personable at times. You pick up your baby, shushing him, gently rocking him. Jimmy’s looming behind you, against the wall by the door.

He grimaces at the sound. “Does it shut up?”

“He’s hungry,” you say, eyes only on your crying baby. Every heart-wrenching wail tugs at something so innate inside you. “Could you leave so that I can feed him?”

Jimmy grins. “And miss out on a show? Why would I do that?”

Your face crumples in disdain. But he’s clearly not leaving and you’ve got a kid to feed, so you just turn away from him, back to your son’s cradle. The air doesn’t feel intense, it feels stifling as you lift up your shirt, bringing your baby’s crying mouth to your nipple.

There’s this weird pressure in your chest, one you’ve never felt before. The short, subtle crawl of ice down your spine. Unsafe, you feel unsafe. Why, you don’t know, but that pressure builds, sharp and nauseating.

The silence drags, you focus on your kid, making sure he properly attaches, that he’s actually drinking. When he’s full, you pull back and tug down your shirt. On impulse, you look behind you.

Jimmy’s gone, like you just imagined him. A ghost.

Dinner comes and goes. You’re changing your son’s diaper as Curly and Jimmy talk in the living room. You can hear their laughter and lively conversation through the walls. Swaddling your kid, you pull him into your arms.

You sing him a lullaby, rocking him to sleep. Alone in this room, you can still feel Jimmy. That moment is etched in your brain. It clings to the walls of the room like cigarette smoke on drywall.

The door opens and you jump. Fortunately, it’s just Curly. He comes up behind you, big warm hands sliding over your stomach and waist. He kisses your temple. “How are you feeling?”

You lean back into him. “Exhausted.” You rub an eye with your free hand.

“Yeah, I bet.” His voice rumbles against your back, lulling you half to sleep. “Jimmy and I are going to head out to the bar for the night. We’ll be back before it's late.”

That wakes you up. You turn to face him. “What? But you just got home and I missed you all day.”

Curly just smiles as if you’d said a joke that was half amusing. “I haven’t seen him in months. We’re only catching up.”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. This would be the part where you flare up, raise your voice— to make yourself seem bigger like you’re encountering a bear on a woodland trail. Instead you shrink, finding yourself at home with something you never have before. You just stand and say nothing.

He kisses you quickly. “Bye. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say back, but the door has already closed behind him.

Being a woman is easy.

You can ask a guy to beat you up during sex, only to turn and show your bruises to a cop and you’re believed. Easily. Instantly.

Jimmy thinks it’s unfair that you and him did the same thing, and he was robbed of everything while you lost nothing. You have it so fucking easy: Curly’s dick in your mouth whenever you want it, cushy house, hot water. The type of things a woman like you takes for granted.

He sees the way you look at him. Someone who’s filth, someone who’s nothing, and someone who’s beneath you. He’s not beneath anyone, especially not a dumb slut. You’re the one on your knees scrubbing the floor, at the sink washing dishes, and raising a kid of all things. You’re a servant, no, a service to Curly. Jimmy wonders if you know that.

It’s even worse that it's so goddamn boring in this house. Seeing you walking back and forth past the living room with various cleaning items and Curly’s lacklustre TV subscription is his only entertainment.

He decides to take matters into his own hands. Jimmy follows you from behind, wondering if you can’t sense him or if you’re purposefully ignoring him, but he finds out pretty quickly that it’s the latter.

Curling a strong arm around you from behind, he grabs one of your tits, pulling you back into his chest. Are they the reason why Curly likes you so much?

Instantly, you go straighter than a stick, stuck in disbelief before you start to squirm. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You try and put up a good fight, but he’s got a tight grip on you— like a baby’s hand wrapped around your finger.

You elbow him in between the ribs and it almost gets him. Almost. Pain flares in his side, but he knows better than to give up now. “That wasn’t very nice. I was just curious if these were his favourite part.”

His other hand scoops up your chin, pressing the back of your head up against his throat. “Curly said to make myself at home, so surely you don’t mind.” Jimmy can feel your chest heaving, your breath wild. You’re a cornered animal, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Get off of me,” you say, your voice muffled, but you are too perfectly ensnared in his grip. Your words mean nothing when he’s kneading your flesh in his calloused hands, tugging up the hem of one of those stupid dresses you always wear. Another aspect of Curly’s barely hidden fetish, he’s sure.

Jimmy makes sure it hurts when he pushes in. He hopes you tear. That way you’ll lose what makes you important to Curly— the stepping stone to everything else falling apart for you.

You look over your shoulder at him and your expression is not one of fear or pain, but anger. You look livid, clipped nails digging into the carpet fibers as Jimmy shoves your face onto the floor.

But eventually you get wet as he opens you up, filling you in his favourite form of entertainment. Seeing you give up, seeing you enjoy getting used by his ‘filthy’ cock that you thought was below you.

You coat his dick in blood and cum when he pulls out of you, spilling over your ass in harsh white streaks. A ruined mess, your true colours have been revealed, the crimson muscle under your skin. You are just a woman, dumb and docile, nothing but what a man can make you.

And he leaves you there so he can go take another wonderful hot shower.

Lying beside Curly, you feel yourself break.

In the dim light of your bedroom, you have nothing to occupy your senses but your thoughts. And you have so, so many of them. Each one winds around your brain in a tortuous loop.

After Jimmy left you there, you didn’t know what to do. Your joints cried out, you sat up and just stared at a spot on the floor. The sound of the shower running filled your ears like an incessant buzz, it carried with you all day. And here it is now. This fog, this emptiness that you can’t shake.

You smooth your thumbs over your nails, worrying your lips till you taste blood. Never have you let yourself fall into your head like this, you feel shackled to that moment, forced to replay it over and over.

You shouldn’t be so absorbed in this. It was nothing. He’s just fucking bored. Letting this affect you, ruminating on this, it makes you no better than her.

For a short moment you debated calling Anya, to talk to her about it. You imagine picking up the phone and flat out telling her that Jimmy raped you— and what? What happens then? What could Anya— a dimwit who finally made it into med school through pity alone, do for you?

You wipe your eyes to try to hide the tears brewing there. This is all because of Jimmy. He has the nerve to do this under your household. You have Curly under your beck and call, you’ve assured yourself that that would be the case. This won’t slip through your fingers. You’ll get him kicked out, Jimmy failed to pass the terms.

You feel Curly’s arm wrap around your stomach, tugging you back into his chest. His warm breath fans over the nape of your neck, murmuring listlessly. “Why are you crying?”

Fuck, he noticed. You wipe with more insistence. You need to tell him. Sure you have no proof, but you can twist your words like you always do. Blame it on Curly, braid his heartstrings and play them to your favour. This will be easy.

“Jimmy, he… he…”

Fuck, you can’t speak. Why can’t you speak? This has never happened. Words usually come so easy to you, but right now they’re all crammed down your throat and you’re suffocating on them.

“I know you don’t like him,” Curly says, “but he’s my friend. I can’t just throw him out onto the streets, right?”

You stay silent. Right, of course, they’re friends. And how could Jimmy get off his feet, get a job— do any of that, when he has a criminal record? You should’ve never agreed to this. You should’ve said no. You are competing with a relationship that has stretched on longer than the time you’ve known Curly.

“You both need to learn how to get along,” Curly sighs, burying his face in your shoulder. “Get some sleep. Don’t think about this.”

You nod, more to yourself than him. Jimmy will get bored. This will end.

It will.

Why are you making excuses for him?

When Curly asks about the new bruise flowering on your side, you say you bumped into the counter. You don’t tell him that it was Jimmy. When Curly and Jimmy drink together in the living room after dinner, you spend it in your son’s room, fawning over him and making yourself sick.

There’s no telling when Jimmy will snap and you will become the subject of his entertainment for the hour– when he will split you open and call you filthy things that you are slowly being conditioned to like.

You feel like a hostage in your own house. Your son’s room has become your only safety. No longer do you feel self-assured, confident, and capable, rather, you feel as though you are nothing but a victim. That you are a compliant puppet to the men around you.

It needs to stop.

Today, Jimmy shoves his fingers down your throat and you lurch forward with a gag. His unclipped fingernails drag against your wet tongue and you feel your unimpressive breakfast rising up your throat.

And god, his fucking grin. It’s a show of malice and a couple of crooked teeth, the obvious reaction as he takes a victory lap with your subservience. Globs of thick saliva drag down from your lips and onto the floor.

He always fucks you when your son is sleeping and there’s enough time for your holes to return to normal for when Curly uses them the following evening. You feel so sapped of your energy. You don’t even fight or say much of anything anymore. You’ve lost.

You know what’s happening before you even feel it. He bends you onto the couch and slides his spit-soaked fingers against your ass. You prickle up, going rigid as he forces one finger past your pucker, then a second. Jimmy doesn’t actually care about prepping you and after a couple pumps he replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s the same sharp drag every time, although now it hurts twice as much. He must get off to it, seeing you in a crumpled, folded heap of holes. His hips smack against yours with ease.

He curls his body over you, looming like a shadow. The cushion beneath your face is wet with tears and drool. You feel like you’re suffocating— he doesn’t even moan. You’re not even doing a good job of whatever he wants from you.

Jimmy calls you a slut, a whore, and all of the other degrading names in the book. He’s sure to let you know what you are and once the slide of his dick starts feeling less like molten lava in your veins, you begin to moan along with it. You fucking hate yourself.

Then, the front door opens.

You didn’t tell Jimmy that Curly got off early today. You were hoping the sight of this would be enough to deter Curly from Jimmy, that’d it be enough to compel Curly to kick him out. If he won’t believe your words, you have the visual proof.

Jimmy doesn’t even look scared, much less worried. He tugs you up into his lap, your back against his chest and your vulnerable body bared to Curly’s gaze. You try to cover yourself, but it’s no use.

“Sweetheart… what?” He looks between you and Jimmy, his expression darkening.

“I didn’t— he made me–,” but Jimmy wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes so hard your eyes bulge out of your sockets. You flounder as Jimmy grinds his hips into you.

“She’s a glutton for it.” Jimmy’s voice feels far away, like you’re in some sort of corporeal third person. “You haven’t been fucking her right, huh?”

Curly’s lips form around a myriad of words he tries and fails to say. “I have been,” Curly says, his eyes wide in disbelief, reeling, “she went behind my back, with you?”

“Don’t blame me. She was begging me for it.” Jimmy can’t stop moving his hips. He can’t even take a break from fucking you just to talk.

“Please, no—,” you gasp. Curly’s eyes flit to yours and then down to your blushing cunt that's currently dripping slick down onto Jimmy’s balls. He can see the way your ass is stretched around his cock.

Curly’s so red you think he might overheat. One hand slips lower, not-so-discreetly adjusting his bulge as he stares at both you and Jimmy in heartbreak.

And Jimmy, being the gentleman he is, scoots forward on the couch, indirectly rocking up into you in a thrust that makes your eyes roll back. “Are you getting turned on by this?” Jimmy laughs, “then use her.”

Jimmy slides his sleazy fingers down and parts your sodden lips, showing it all off to Curly. The man averts his eyes like he’s never seen it before, as if he hasn’t dragged his tongue over every inch of your skin in his own form of worship.

“You like watching this? Fucking cuck.” Jimmy digs his thumb into your windpipe and you worry you might actually turn purple.

He curls in on himself like he’s intruding. “I can’t— not while you’re—”

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “She’s your wife. What, you don’t want her anymore?”

The patheticness that drew you to Curly is becoming a thing of annoyance to you. But for once, you agree with Jimmy— having Curly here with you might erase the pain of Jimmy’s lack of preparation. Curly would be gentle, he would be so good to you, same as he always is. You plead with him as best you can with your eyes. If you can’t rid yourself of Jimmy, at least you can make it better for yourself.

You watch as he reluctantly undoes his pants, tugging out that fat cock you love so much. Before you know it, he’s pressing the head to your cunt and pushing in. His eyes are on you and only you. You’re finally able to ignore the way Jimmy’s hip bones are digging into your ass.

Curly caresses your jaw with his fingers, watching carefully to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, because sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. It feels habitual, you can almost ignore everything else happening around you. You and him, just you and him.

“What are you fucking her so slow for?’ Jimmy plunges even deeper into you. “You think a slut like her deserves that?”

Curly’s eyes shoot away and then he’s staring at Jimmy, his brow furrowed in thought. It’s usually your job to tell him what to think— you would if you weren’t being stuffed and suffocated from every side.

He picks up speed. You’ve never had him at this pace before, and you’re stretched so full that your hands fly out for purchase, nails skating along Curly’s bicep.

He’s not even looking at you, the pretty tendons of his neck arched so he can look at Jimmy. Your husband fucks you with his careful instruction.

Jimmy bullies himself deeper and deeper. Curly follows suit, your hips all clash with the sloppy sound of your wet cunt and skin.

You squeeze around them both as your heart stammers with pure panic. Jimmy’s fingers are digging into your throat hard enough that spots are appearing in your vision. You tap his arm like he’s got you in a wrestling hold you can’t get out of— Jimmy makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat as he lets go.

Then he slaps you.

Curly winces like Jimmy hit him too, but he doesn’t say anything. The strike burns against your skin. You’re not even given a moment to process before Jimmy’s pistoning right back in.

You’re so wet that it’s all you can hear— maybe wetter now. Your head tips back to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder and you try to catch Curly’s eyes with your own.

“Grant, Grant—,” your nails dig into his biceps to get his attention. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, spreading you open, and Jimmy’s rubbing your clit like he couldn’t care less about it, missing it half the time.

Curly glances down at you, fleeting. “Yeah, what is it, baby?” His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows curling upwards as he continues to fuck into you.

Your body shakes with each thrust, neither of them are letting up. “Slow down, please.”

“You’re gonna listen to her?” is Jimmy’s immediate response, “thought you were the man of the house.”

A multitude of expressions lilt over Curly’s face until there is a sudden understanding. One of their many secret conversations, you suppose.

Then Curly matches Jimmy’s pace and you feel like you can’t breathe, blackened tears streaming down your face. At least he has the decency to actually rub your clit. Your hips squirm as you try and fail to wrench yourself away from the overstimulation.

He keeps hitting that spot in you over and over again, their cocks meeting inside you with each belligerent thrust. Jimmy’s fingers dig into your waist, his teeth caught on your earlobe as he says the most demeaning things he can come up with, making you whine and squeeze tighter around them both, walls fluttering and a pitiful ache in your stomach.

Then there’s this sudden anger. At yourself, mostly. Curly doesn’t have the backbone to stand up for himself, much less you. That’s why this is your fault. You let it get out of control and you’ve let yourself get conditioned to enjoy being defiled.

You’d only had one plan when you learned about Pony Express terminating its employees— secure your future. That future was Curly’s baby in your belly, being well off under his roof. You were willing to take on every responsibility that came with it if it meant a good life for you and your family. But now you’ve clawed yourself out of a gaping pit just to dive headfirst into another.

Jimmy was the variable that ripped that all to shreds. Him and Curly have something, something that goes beneath their skin, that they share in small glances when you slip up, a camaraderie, one that has spanned longer than you’ve known either of them and has only grown further now.

And then the worst happens.

Jimmy wraps one slender hand around the back of Curly’s neck, tugs him down, and then he’s kissing him. Curly’s eyes fall closed and he makes a keening noise so deep in the back of his throat that you wonder if it’s innate. Jimmy just looks at you, eyes wide open, unable to fight his grin as Curly slots lips with him like an obedient dog.

Your chest sinks even deeper into that pitfall, you can only watch, staring as Curly pulls away, a string of saliva between both their lips. And Curly has never looked at you like that. Yes, his eyes have welled up with admiration and reverence, and he has said just as much to you, but it’s never been this. Like he’ll die if your lips never meet again.

Curly glances at you, and it’s like he’s asking for permission, like you’re some sort of spectator when they’re both fucking you. You can’t believe him, you can’t believe this is happening right now. It’s not fair.

And before you can protest, before the rage can spark in your chest and burst into flames, Curly’s thumb catches your clit just right and you’re cumming.

You’re dragging them both in deep, half-crying out as your orgasm grows spots in your vision. It’s dizzying, all-consuming, and you’re half worried you might pass out.

Curly sucks in a sharp breath and he blows his load right after, Jimmy following too. No one pulls out, you all lay there, catching your breath. There’s a thin layer of sweat on your skin, your bodies all feel sticky as they’re pressed together.

Curly does what he always does, ducking his head to rest his forehead against yours and murmuring praises. He pecks your lips, but all you can feel and taste is Jimmy.

It makes you sick.

The following few weeks are a blur. You become what you’re meant to be, what you’ve been fighting— a shell of your former self. Looking back at the power you once held on the Tulpar, where you were free of the systems of Earth, you should’ve known that their return would throw everything off-kilter.

The white walls of the bathroom grow suffocating. The first time you did this on the Tulpar, there was buzzing excitement thrumming through your veins. You wanted it so badly. It was all you could think about. Every time you and Curly locked eyes, you had envisioned it all, what his reaction would be, the first thing he’d say.

But now? You stare blankly at the positive pregnancy test, an obvious result of yours and Jimmy’s and Curly’s ongoing entanglement. You’re numb more than anything. It was going to happen and so it happened, simple as that.

Though a tiny question tugs at you, somewhere in the recesses of your foggy mind— a curiosity that you don’t want the answer to knowing either option is now equally just as horrible to you.

Who’s the father?

[soft-pine]

spn20rewatch: 2.20 what is and what should never be

this has got to be in my top ten episodes of all time! there is so much i love about it! it has my favorite favorite scene and then my other FAVORITE FAVORITE SCENE!!!

but before we get there it has some wonderful dean character moments.

dean's confused, withdrawn, performative kiss with carmen!

this whole scene watching his face go from performance to confusion and worry and back and forth! he is so funny and i love him so much!

but this is also a cruel foreshadowing that the next two kisses dean has are him specifically sacrificing himself and his body as a means to an end.

but we're not there yet so let's just bask in THIS!

DEAN: Well, who'd'a thought, baby. We're civilians.

or THIIISSSSS!!!

DEAN Dad's dead? And the thing that killed him was a... MARY A stroke. He died in his sleep. You know that. DEAN That's great.

or the way dean is so fucking happy to see jess and it's heartbreakingly sweet!

there is also so much that can be said about how even in dean's "dream world," he's the family fuck-up. he's never really thought much about his own future or himself but the best thing he can picture is his family (or most of them, HA!) alive and happy and safe. and i think there's a component of this where he has to remove himself (and John) in order to imagine it being possible. gutting honestly.

season two opens with dean yelling at john (though john can't hear him) and ends with dean crying at john's grave. i'm interested in the shared threads between these two iterations.

2.01

DEAN: I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had.

2.20

DEAN: Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... "So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?

the speech in 2.20 is actually one of the very best explanations i feel we ever get for dean's relationship with john. because the issue is not only that john forced dean into hunting, it's that hunting saves people. like dean can rail against john and against his childhood that was stolen and against his future that will be stolen and against all the cruelty and harshness and ways he was parentified and it was subtly reinforced that his life literally mattered less than sam's or than strangers. but hunting does save people, goddammit and dean both cares so deeply about that on his own that many of these sacrifices would be freely chosen and he cannot fully hate or distance himself from his father because so much of what john did was actually just straightforwardly good.

abuse is messy. i think john winchester's characterization is perfect, actually.

dean can much more easily put to rest a father who played softball than a father who "got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad." (8.12)

like dean has to remove himself and john from their family's lives to picture their family getting a happy life. but for it to feel easy, he also has to make this father one who just worked at a body shop (i'm extrapolating) and played softball.

so yes, okay this episode is a nonstop thrill ride of beautiful, cute, wonderful dean moments and utter heartbreak. so of course, the next thing i have to say is THAT THIS SCENE IS SO FUCKING CUTE!!!!! i can't stand it! (rip to the "I know how it sounds" that i didn't squeeze in because it was too long. because that line just kills me !!!!!)

but look look look!!!! he's so smooth and cunty AHHH

so it follows that what comes next is heartbreak. dean wants a future where mary is alive, where jess is alive, where sam is happy and safe and in college and alive. and it's not real and he can't have it and it will kill him but he wants to stay. so he stabs himself in the heart.

and in the next episode sam dies anyway.

... well here we are, this is already so long and i haven't even talked about my actual favorite scene. which also, i think, happens to be my favorite scene in all of supernatural....

Dean realizing one of the other of the djinn's victims is still alive and catching her as sam cuts her free.

DEAN: I gotcha. I gotcha. We're gonna get you out of here, OK? I gotcha. I got you.

the way the fact that he's in pain and weak and drained is layered throughout the desperate care in his voice here.... besties i don't have words...

all hail 2.20

[wubbowrites]

i would have liked to know you

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Relationship: Sonic & Maria Robotnik, Sonic/Shadow

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None!

AO3 Link

“I don’t know what he was like back then, but he’s a big fan of brooding these days.”

That got a proper laugh out of Maria. The kind that made someone tilt their head back, made tears well up at the corners of their eyes. Sonic didn’t think it was that funny, but he was glad she did. Her laugh was worth a thousand bad jokes.

—

Sonic has a strange dream.

Sonic had gotten pretty good at the whole lucid dreaming thing. So when he found himself sitting in a field of flowers he didn’t recognize, with a day-lit sky that was just slightly too dark, he knew that he was definitely dreaming.

The environment may have been a bit uncanny valley for his tastes, but it wasn’t terrible. The wind still felt nice against his quills. The grass was still soft. The flowers — whatever they were — smelled nice. Like a sweet, subtle perfume. And there wasn’t a single gray cloud in that strange, deep blue sky.

Sonic’s eyes fluttered shut. He listened closely to the sounds, felt the sensations around him. As he let himself savor the moment, he noticed a rustling behind him. His ears twitched, but he didn’t feel like opening his eyes just yet. Whoever was approaching was doing it slowly, and he sensed no malice. He let them walk up to his back, then plop down beside him.

Finally, he glanced over, and he saw a girl. A human girl, with long blonde hair and a pretty blue dress. Her skin was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. She was thin. She looked tired. But she smiled at Sonic like he was an old friend of hers.

In a way, maybe she was. Sonic had never met her before, but he remembered enough of what Shadow had let slip in the past to recognize these details. He could put the pieces together.

“Hey,” he greeted casually. “Are you…Maria?”

The girl nodded. “How’d you guess?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, that’s all. And I think I’ve seen your picture at least once.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too, Sonic the Hedgehog,” Maria said with a giggle.

This surprised Sonic to hear. He tilted his head. “You have?”

“He still visits the ARK Memorial, you know. In Central City Park.” Maria waved her finger in a ‘check’ motion, like she was going through a to-do list. “Every year, on the dot!”

Sonic felt a wave of fondness sweep across his chest. He chuckled. “I should have figured. Though I never pictured him actually talking to you. I always imagined him just crossing his arms and glaring at the stone. I don’t know what he was like back then, but he’s a big fan of brooding these days.”

That got a proper laugh out of Maria. The kind that made someone tilt their head back, made tears well up at the corners of their eyes. Sonic didn’t think it was that funny, but he was glad she did. Her laugh was worth a thousand bad jokes.

Once she’d calmed down, Maria flopped down onto her back. She took a deep breath. Sonic watched curiously. After a minute or two, he leaned back too. While Maria laid straight with her hands folded properly against her chest, he tucked his hands behind his head as a cushion, and tucked one leg over the other.

Their styles couldn’t have been more different, but they shared the same blue hues. They enjoyed the same beautiful day.

“I’m sorry if this place isn’t quite right,” Maria finally said.

“What, did you make this?”

“I did. I wanted something comfortable so we could talk properly. But I was off planet for a long time, and there’s a big difference between remembering or studying what Earth looks like and actually seeing it for yourself. I had to guess a little to fill in the gaps.”

Sonic didn’t bother asking more. He just accepted what she said, tried to take it in stride. “Whatever the case, it’s great. I haven’t had a dream this peaceful in awhile!”

“True.”

Sonic’s ears twitched again. But he still didn’t ask why she would know his dreams well enough to say that. Or what she meant when she said she ‘made’ this place. What was the point of making sense of a dream?

But there was one thing he wanted to know. “What did you need to talk about?”

Maria suddenly sat up. She looked down at Sonic with glittering eyes. She looked so fond of him, despite them never interacting.

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of him. For keeping him company since I’ve been gone. I know he can be prickly, but…he really likes you, you know. I wasn’t lying when I said he talks about you. Every time he visits us, I get to hear about a new adventure of yours. You’ve always sounded wonderful, and…and he always sounds like he’s having fun. In his own way, y’know? You make him happy.”

And though all of this was a dream, and Sonic knew logically none of this was real, he still felt in his chest like it was. With that in mind, he smiled warmly back at her. “Of course. He makes me happy too.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad!” Maria laughed beautifully again. “I think I would have liked to know you, if things had gone differently.”

Sonic nodded. “I think we would’ve gotten along great.”

“I agree!”

Maria laid back down. She scooched closer to Sonic, reached out, and grabbed his hand. He let her squeeze it.

And then suddenly, everything faded away.

—

Sonic woke slowly. Curled up in his favorite hammock, buried in blankets and a black and red hedgehog, he snuggled into its warmth.

He sleepily opened his eyes to see Shadow’s gloveless hand reaching around to hold his. Sonic felt him squeeze it.

“You up?” Sonic whispered.

A grunt. “You were mumbling in your sleep.” Shadow said it in an accusatory tone, like Sonic could have controlled that. It made Sonic giggle.

“Yeah, sorry. I had a weird dream.”

“Mm?”

“I, uh…I think I talked to Maria?”

He felt his rival tense up. With some difficulty (hammocks just weren’t built for two), Sonic rolled over to face Shadow. He didn’t look upset per se…but it was always a difficult topic.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t. I mean…” Shadow cleared his throat. “Don’t…apologize. What did…What did you talk about?”

Sonic hummed. He nuzzled into Shadow’s neck. One of his hands crept up to bury itself in Shadow’s chest fur. Curled up together like this was secretly Sonic’s favorite way to be. He knew Shadow loved it too — that it calmed him down from bad moments.

Sonic didn’t want this to be a bad moment. But he prepared, just in case.

“She thanked me for making you happy,” he said. “And I told her you made me happy too.”

Shadow went quiet again. Just as Sonic would’ve started to worry though, he nuzzled Sonic back. Silently reassuring that he was alright, just thinking.

Eventually, his eyelids fluttered closed, and his breathing started evening out again. Before he could fall back asleep, he said, “I think you two would have gotten along.”

Sonic snorted and closed his eyes too. “That’s exactly what we said.”

[29daffodils]

bison : resident noob dom extraordinaire

context : there was a discourse going on on twitter (as per usual) about whether bison is actually a dom or not or if it's just a trauma response that he may grow out of and eventually realize that he is not into bdsm. or something.

before i begin anything,

disclaimer : OP has both good and bad experience, so this meta/rant is entirely written based on my own understanding and experience within the BDSM community and with partners.

now, let's begin.

the original tweet that sparked the debate (also i think OP's QT aiming at “self proclaimed bdsm connoisseurs” is snooty and entirely dismisses all their arguments before and after that) (but that's just me)

the tweet with the counter argument?? i guess???

in support of the OG tweet

now that i've laid all that out, i'll begin by saying :

the idea of anyone being a “natural dom” or there being something like “natural dominance” in the context of sexual preferences is inherently harmful and sets people, both the dom and the sub, up for having a bad experience, or worse, being abused.

i know this statement wasn't from OP, but considering how they are on about the “bdsm connoisseurs” flooding their mentions, i think they should have addressed this since it's in support of their tweet. anyway.

now, i agree in part with OP's take :

bison is definitely influenced by his entire life being surrounded by violence. we have a young adult who has mostly no control over his life or how he lives it. he has witnessed violence and now he is in the center of it, and nevermind how good he is at his job, bison has made it clear he doesn't want to kill. bison has also told us that “pain kinda excites me.” so, just because his sexual lifestyle might be a trauma response, it doesn't mean he “isn't really a dom” or that his behaviour is “not rooted in natural dominance”. the idea of “natural dominance” is moreover, in my opinion, based on unrealistic patriarchal ideals and if you squint, this is a not so subtle shade on our young twinky dom as well.

so now let's look at bison as he is introduced to us :

witnesses the murder of his parents, clearly traumatized, get “adopted” by some shady ass woman who puts him back into a system where he is the one now inflicting violence, bison realizes at some unknown point of time that he “wants to be in control” because “pain kinda excites me” and purchases all sorts of bdsm paraphernalia, except he never dates because of his profession, until he meets kant who dupes him into trying out s&m, and bison very much enjoys his first play, fast forward to the falling out and kidnapping of kant and the fighting and make-up, and finally the scene in question that sparked the OG tweet :

in this scene, bison admits that he goes out and does fun things, like bowling, right after a kill, to take his mind off it. clearly, he doesn't like it. we already know this, bison has always insinuated to fadel that he wants an out and it's evident he doesn't hunger for the kind of violence he is made to dole out. but this is the first point we see him actually address this and outright say he deliberately does light-hearted activities to disengage from the aftermath of a kill. we also see him admit to the difficulties of a hitman's lifestyle and this particular piece of dialogue shows that whether he enjoys it or not, he is good at his job and he has made his peace with it. so where does his need for control fit in here?

in previous episodes (#2, tattoo parlour scene), bison admits to wanting control in bed, but he doesn't clearly state whether he is the S or the M. coupled with this omission, his “pain kinda excites me” dialogue makes me think he is both into giving and receiving pleasure from pain.

anyway, coming back to the main point, bison's need for control in bed may very well (and i've been suspecting it for a while) arise from his difficult lifestyle and his lack of say in how he lives, considering he is a hitman and (has to) reports to mother probably everything he does. for a 24yo, that's not the best case scenario. assuming bison was immediately adopted after the murder of his parents, he did not have a lot of (if any at all) time to explore himself or live his life in a way he sees fit. we know he sleeps around (that's his M.O. after all in most missions, i believe) and that's probably the only place where he could excersize any control or take charge. but we also know he hasn't done any s&m play before. so with the introduction of kant and the whole bdsm shebang, we can tell bison is exhilarated to finally be calling the shots and leading in bed in a way he and his partner both find pleasurable. and since he has all the tools and knows his own desires, it's safe to assume wants to be a dom. now whether he is or not, let's see.

we'll address the “natural dominance” debate here.

in the very first interaction with kant (who is older, btw, let's keep that in mind), he immediately tells off kant for being patronizing towards him. if you live anywhere in asia, you'll know it's kinda rude to talk back to older people. so even though they are in an informal setting, and the age rules don't apply here as such, bison doesn't shy away from putting kant in his place.

in the red room, we can see kant take the bed but bison walks away from him and takes the loveseat. in this scene, it is clear kant is used to leading, so he expects bison to listen to what he says. but bison (bless my boy), very easily throws him off by remaining seated and gesturing kant to come to him. kant still tries to keep his ground, but ultimately he makes the most pathetic meow meow begging face and that's when bison finally lets him have it. even after this, we can see kant is used to topping and pulling the strings, but bison once again throws him off by saying, “you are not doing this solo, you know?”

this whole exchange immediately defines their roles in the current setting and imo, is a very subtle foreshadowing for their future interactions.

in the tattoo bed scene, bison is excited beyond measure to be finally introducing and sharing his kink with kant and while initially we could see kant trying to lead this interaction, there are subtle signs/actions from bison that shows how he prepares kant for his submissive role : the slap to the hand on his thigh and kant's little flinch and gasp (one of my fave scenes from first, the micro-expressions were outstanding), the little slaps to his cheek before bison departs, etc.

i could go on and on, but the “natural dominance” that QTOP claims bison doesn't have, is actually out there taking a walk in broad daylight lmao. i think their intent was to say that because bison's dominance doesn't exist irrespective of his trauma but actually goes hand-in-hand with it, it's less valid than say, a dom who doesn't have a violent past and trauma related to it.

the question now here would be how good of a dom he is and whether he lets his trauma define his status as a dom. so far, there have been no signs of bison misusing his power and control over kant during a play (i believe we cannot count the drunk bison whipping kant scene here for obvious reasons). but so far, while bison was sober, he hasn't abused his power over kant during one of their plays. until very recently that is, and outside bed, does bison actually makes use of his power over kant : kidnapping and outrageous demands because he is hurting, but, the moment kant uses his safeword, bison drops everything and pulls away. from my experience, bison is very much a good dom so far, but he is also inexperienced, excited, in love, and under-informed (or that bit may just be the sloppy writing).

the word “natural dominance” suggests to me that QTOP expects bison to be in his dom role all the time, but it's not very often that people adapt their sexual preferences and make it into a lifestyle. doms are caregivers (by this, i mostly mean they lead and guide the sub and provide care/pleasure during and after any scene) in bed and outside of it should it be an exclusively d/s relationship with that kind of lifestyle. we haven't seen bison and kant discuss their dynamics or how they are going to implement it anywhere outside a particular scene. moreover, bison so far hasn't indicated that he wants kant and himself to be exclusively a d/s pair. rather, he is very much a romantic and likes doing all sorts of things that a stereotypical younger twinky bottom male in a gay relationship is supposed to do. even in the swing scene, bison is affectionate with kant the same way he was before learning the truth. the only difference we feel now is because bison finally knows the whole truth and is letting himself freely accept affection that he was holding himself back from when he was suspicious of kant's motives (even after getting together with him). so bison's cutesy actions in this ep are not because he doesn't have the dom bone in his body or because he hungers for affection but gravitates towards domination because of his cycle of violence. he is free and affectionate and it feels different now compared to before is because his entire relationship with kant is no longer sitting on a bed of lies and they have both come clean. this ultimately changes their body language and how they interact with each other. therefore, bison's desire to lead is just as strong as his desire to be cared for (leaning on his boyfriend, being cute, cuddly, etc) and both exist on opposing sides of the same sphere that's bison's life.

therefore, i think it's kind of ridiculous to say his actions/behaviour isn't rooted in “natural dominance”. I'm not even sure what that is supposed to mean except that QTOP either thinks bison is supposed to be some caricature dom who likes leading both in bed and outside it. because that, my friends, is not how most relationships (bdsm and otherwise) work. or that he is a christian grey 2.0 (which, 🤣🥹).

so what i urge most readers/watchers to do here is separate bison's innate ability to inflict violence effectively in his job from his desire to dominate and use pain for pleasure in bed. both are different things and not mutually exclusive.

i think most of us need to give up on whatever 50SoG “taught” us about bdsm and actually look at this whole thing realistically. also, i think from all this info it's clear bison isn't gonna change his dom status anytime soon and for valid reasons. so from what we have seen him do so far, i can safely say he knows what he wants and he will very much keep wanting to play with kant while he calls the shots.

therefore it's important that we see bison's character from a realistic pov instead of whatever christian grey was. yes, he craves control because he doesn't have it in most instances of his life. but also yes, he craves romantic affection from his partner because he is a fool in love. both of these things can co-exist. what we need to remember is that just because someone is a dom doesn't mean they only need to be a sadist or be a top (I'm looking you, vegas).

in the future eps, bison might settle more into his skin and he may (however unlikely) realize he doesn't need to demand as much control (not that he is doing that a whole lot now). but, we still have 4 more episodes left and I don't think we'll be covering that anyway. so, my final verdict is bison is very much a dom, but he is a total “noob dom” (as i fondly like to call him) and will get many things wrong before he gets them right. but kant will be there along the way to learn alongside him, so no worries about that.

anyway, rant is over. cheers.

[flowery-mess]

in vino veritas

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / slight smut / drinking alcohol / let me know if anything else should be taged

Words: 2k

frat boy Noah masterlist

„So you can chose from this list of presentation topics or you can think of your own, but you need to discuss it with me in that case. Everything clear? Any questions?” your professor then ended the lesson and you turned to face Molly and Clara.

“How are we gonna do this? There’s three of us.” Clara said, pointing between the three of you. You were just assigned new team project, team meaning two people.

“Ella can be with Noah, they can work on their project after their sex sessions.” Molly said, teasing you with playful smirk.

“Molly, fuck off.” you said with nice smile, showing her your middle finger.

“That’s not a bad idea actually.” Clara nodded along as the two of them looked like they just found cure for deadly disease.

“He has his buddies in this class, he’s not interested in doing school project with me.”

“One, two, three, four aaand five! Perfect!” Molly scanned the area where Noah and his friends sat, pretty happy with the number of them.

“Just text him, or one of us will end up with Anna again.”

“And you don’t want that for any of us!”

Anna was your classmate, short girl with long hair. Clara was paired up with her for another project and she said she’s rather have a bath full of spider than work with Anna again. She didn’t give you details, only that her dorm smells like sweat and that she told Clara she doesn’t take shower more than twice a week to save the planet.

“You’re the worst friends ever.” you ironically said when you pulled your phone out of your bag to text Noah.

“Any chance your friends ditched you for the project like mine?” you hit send and then turned your body so you could see Noah reach for his phone.

He read your text and chuckled before answering you.

“No, but I could ditch them for you.”

Before you could write your response he sent another message.

“Unless you want Trevor to be your partner.”

You looked up to see Noah looking back at you, his face without any emotion so you didn’t know if that Trevor message was just a joke or if he was serious.

“I don’t want Trevor to be my partner.” you sent your reply and before you could see his reaction, you turned back around to face your friends who were patiently waiting for your answer.

“Okay I’ll do it with Noah, but next time one of you will make the sacrifice.”

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

“Do you like any topic from the list?” Noah started the conversation when you two found a free table at the coffee shop in the campus.

“I haven’t read them all yet, do you like any of them?”

“I don’t really care about the topic, you can choose.”

“You sound like a perfect partner, let me see.” you opened the document with different topics and Noah sipped on his coffee. “Workplace diversity, Urbanization and its social impacts, Religion in moder communities, everything’s boring.”

You scrolled some more before something finally caught your eye. “This! Sociology of first impressions: expressions through appearance.” you pointed your finger in the middle of your screen where topic was written.

“Why this one?” Noah asked.

“Because I hate when people judge others based on their looks. I might get angry while doing this project.” you warned Noah, but that only got a chuckle out of him.

“Okay, sign us up for that one.” so you did write Noah Sebastian and Ella Thompson next to that topic so no one could steal it from you.

“Let’s make an outline and we can start on our own parts separately.”

You wrote down ideas and topics you wanted to talk about and when you finished your coffees you were pretty satisfied with the work you’ve done so far.

“How about we work on in at my place on Saturday?” Noah proposed when started packing your things.

“Oh, okay.” you said, surprised by his question. First, it meant that he planned on taking you back to his place on Friday and second, he wanted you to stay and not leave in the morning. But it was because of the project, you reminded yourself.

“Okay. Bye Ella.” he gave you quick salute and left the coffee shop.

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

Sitting on Noah’s couch on Saturday with schoolwork in front of you felt weird. Unnatural.

“So the introduction is done, we can change it as we go on with the rest. I was thinking we could do interview for the practical part of the project?” you looked up from your notes only to find Noah sitting on the floor with his head on the couch and eyes closed. “Noah!” you groaned and threw your pencil at him.

“What? I want to sleep.”

“This was your idea.” you reminded him.

He opened one eye to give the annoyed look, but he knew you were right. He was also a good student and wanted the project to be good, but he was also tired from the party last night and then your bedroom fun that lasted until 3AM.

“Okay. What did you say about the practical part?” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat straight. Sleepy Noah kinda looked cute, but you were sure he was gonna change into angry Noah after you’re gonna propose your ides to him.

“I was thinking about an interview with someone extraordinary.”

“Like?”

“Like, well, you.”

His eyebrows shot up at your proposition “Me? You think I’m extraordinary?”

You couldn’t name the look in his eyes, but it almost looked like it made him sad and surprised at the same time.

“I mean yeah, look at you. You’re what this project is about. Don’t tell me no one ever judged you based on your tattoos.”

He was quiet, confirming what you just said out loud. It was true, he was familiar with the judgement from others based solely on the tattoos that were covering most of his body.

“I don’t think that’s allowed when I’m working on the project.” His answer was short and firm.

He knew that if he’d agreed you’d ask questions like why he got this and that tattoo, the meaning behind them or at what age he started with them. And he didn’t want you to know that, his covered body meant all the obstacles he had to overcome and he didn’t like talking about his past. But you didn’t know that, so before you could shut your mouth the question slipped out.

“Why do you have desolate on your stomach Noah?”

“Stop asking questions Ella, I told you no.”

“It can be anonymous, no one has to know it’s about you.”

“I said no.”

“It can be just few questions, like 5 to 10?” you just couldn’t help yourself and stop your mouth.

“Leave.”

“What?” you looked at Noah, confused by his sudden reaction.

“I don’t feel like working on the project anymore. We can have coffee on Monday and continue.”

He looked hurt, and suddenly you felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

But he didn’t answer, instead he started packing your things to show you he was serious about wanting you leave.

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

You didn’t talk about his tattoos on Monday, you talked about the theoretical part of the project. Noah was giving you the cold shoulder, not talking more than he had to.

You couldn’t stop thinking about his reaction to your question about the desolate tattoo. You always wondered what his tattoos mean when you saw him naked, but you never asked. Or you just didn’t have a good excuse to do so.

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

The next Friday you were both more drunk that usual, blaming the beer pong competition for it. When you made it to Noah’s place and you started taking each other’s clothes off, your drunk mind couldn’t help itself.

You slid your hands down Noah’s naked chest and stopped at the desolate tattoo.

“What does it mean Noah?” you asked him in a whisper, your mouth on his.

“What?”

“Desolate. Why do you have it on your body?��

“Because I’m desolate.” he confessed, the lust from his eyes fading away.

“That’s not a nice thing to say about yourself.”

“It’s the truth tho.” he dipped his head in the crook of your neck and started kissing your sensitive skin.

And you pieced all the things you knew about Noah together. He was living alone, in this big ass apartment, he never mentioned visiting his family for the holidays or someone’s birthday. He doesn’t have any pictures of him and his family around the place and his mom never called him at 6 in the morning like yours did.

“What about your family?” he stopped his movements and you felt his muscles tense under your touch.

He pushed himself off of you and sat on his bed, his tatted back facing you. You heard him sigh and push his hair out of his face.

“Why do you care about my family?” he asked just above a whisper.

“I don’t know. You never talked about any family members, you live here alone and you just told me you are a desolate.”

“We said just sex, no feelings. I think that includes this too.”

“Well I’m too drunk so I probably won’t remember shit in the morning.” you lied. And you felt guilty about, but you wanted to get to know him better and the alcohol just gave you courage to continue.

The alcohol probably made him more emotional too, because he believed that you won’t remember what he said to you that night, but how could you.

“I don’t have any family. Parents left me with my grandparents when I was a kid. Haven’t seen my mom since then and I only see my father if he needs money from me. My grandparents died when I was 15 and since then it was just me. I was left with their house and money. I worked through high school so I could afford good college. Sold the house when I was 19 and bought this place. But I got no one Ella, I am desolate. Always have been.” his head was hanging low, his breath became uneven and he closed his eyes to picture his three year old self asking his grandmother when will mom come pick him up.

“Noah,” you didn’t know what to say to his story, you were feeling sorry for him, but you were sure that wasn’t something he wanted to hear. “You made something from yourself, your grandparents would be proud.”

When he didn’t answer you shifted on your knees and pressed yourself at his back.

Noah fell asleep in your arms that night and your view on him changed. He was the great example for your project, how the outside of someone doesn’t reflect his inside.

But in the morning you pretended like you didn’t remember anything he told you and couldn’t figure if he really did not remember sharing his secrets with you, or if he actually didn’t remember.

You finished the project and got almost full score from your professor.

Things between you and Noah stayed the same, neither of you going back to that night or hiss desolate tattoo.

But every time you got the chance, you made sure kiss those letter on his body to silently tell him he’s not a desolate.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tag list: @lacy1986 @chey-h

Click here to get on my tag list

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

[fizziepopangel]

Stolas Going to Therapy

Stolas going to therapy headcanons because I know we all need these right now (Stolas included)

Despite having had them since Octavia tried to bring them to him, Stolas wouldn’t actually start taking his meds again, not seeing the point since he mostly took the pills so he could be the best version of the father she needed.

After what happened with Octavia, Stolas would resort to plucking his feathers. It’s self destructive and he knows that, but its a form of self harm he’s always used so its an easy pattern to slip into again.

Therapy would be Blitz’s idea. Having started to work on his own shit finally, and slowly but surely feeling better, he wants Stolas to have that same sort of “getting better” feeling.

He’d think about it for a while, but Blitz wouldn’t bring up the idea of therapy until he noticed the feather plucking. Stolas would reject the idea multiple times before agreeing to talk to someone.

Stolas would feel awkward seeing someone in this sense. He was a Goetia after all, demon royalty of his status wouldn’t show weakness by going to some sort of crazy person doctor…. This would result in him going only because Blitz wants him to, but not really opening up at first.

He would also struggle to find a therapist who was a good fit for him, and would switch providers a few times before feeling comfortable with them.

The first thing he would really talk about would be Octavia. It would start by simply saying he missed her, but the session would end in tears as he talked about worrying if she was really being taken care of by his ex wife.

He would get back on his meds after a few sessions.

The meds would help but having been off them for a bit, he'd still have some pretty low days. Blitz would be very attentive on those days despite not fully knowing how to help.

Blitz and Loona would both keep track of Stolas’ meds and remind him to take them on time.

Stolas would journal. It wouldn’t necessarily be something he does because of therapy or for his sessions, but he would occasionally bring it since he often kept notes of nightmares he had. Most of his nightmares revolving around past abuse at the hands of Stella, or his current situation.

Stella came up a lot in therapy.

Blitz comes up in a lot of sessions too; the good, the bad, and the ugly of the his involvement in Stolas’ life. 

He would spend a lot of time in his sessions learning about boundaries and learning how and when to set them for himself. It’s uncharted territory, but he does try to set them and stand firm on them when he does.

His sessions often had tears somewhere along the way. Not all were because he was sad, which he wasn’t used to.

Although Blitz suggested Stolas see a therapist, it would be Stolas’ idea to bring Blitz into a few sessions so that they could talk about their relationship (past, present, and future) in a controlled setting.

Bringing Blitz into his sessions wouldn’t be a true couples session, but it would give Stolas the idea that if they plan to be together, they should take down the information of a couples counselor just in case.

He would also take the number of a family therapist for himself and Octavia. He figures that if she ever wants to let him in, therapy would help them mend their relationship. 

Stolas would likely be on his medications for a lifetime, but he would get to a place where he didn’t need a therapist weekly, though he does keep the number. Just in case.

[starrihan]

My Youth is Free - Toxic! Boynextdoor Break Up Scenarios

-> Pairing: afab! Reader x toxic! Boynextdoor

-> Plot: toxic breakup scenarios for each of the members

-> Genre: angst, suggestive (only some, not WH), Sungho and riwoo are misogynistic and controlling, riwoo is a manipulator, Taesan is really cold, anger issues in woonhak’s, fwb! Leehan, Leehan and Taesan are assholes, reader is blunt and swears a lot, use of real names (Sanghyeok, Dongmin, and Donghyun)

-> Warnings: misogyny, swearing

-> Word Count: 5,935 (~800-1200 words per member)

-> Notes: toxic bnd is all that’s been on my mind recently but let me know if you would like a part 2 where they make up with reader 🤭

-> Side Note: I get a lot of my inspirations from songs (like 1 or 2 lines from a song) and obviously 20 was the inspiration for this one but I always forget to link the song in case someone doesn’t know it 🤦🏽‍♀️ so here is a little edit with the song added anyways enjoy reading~ 😚

༄ ༄ ༄

Sungho:

He couldn't stand the thought of you getting closer to your male coworker. You had recently gotten a new job that required you to work a little later than he did. Sometimes you’d have so much work to do that you’d bring it home to work on, not having had enough time during the workday to get important documents and files finished before their deadline. When you told him that you would be working on a project with a male coworker he was supportive, at first. Of course you guys had total trust in each other, so he didn’t mind you needing to stay later in the office to work with him. But even after your joint project was over, you would still hang out regularly amongst other coworkers. This is what got under his skin.

“You know he wants you, right?”

“Sungho, please. We’re going out with a couple of friends too. I only mentioned his name because you’ve met him before.”

“And the whole time we hung out he was eyeing you down like a piece of candy. C’mon Y/N, seriously? The only reason a guy would hang out with a group of girls is because he wants one of them. You told me that he doesn’t really know the other girls so he’s only going out because you’re there.”

“Yeah, because I’m introducing him to them. I’m the department head so he worked with me but he should know the other people in my department if we’re going to be working together.”

“Im just saying, why would he hang out with you if he didn’t like you?”

“Excuse me? You don’t think I’m fun or interesting enough to hang out with a guy? You think men would only hang out with me because they want to sleep with me?”

“Baby, that’s not what I meant I–”

“Save it. I’m leaving. I’ll be back by 11.”

That was the first conversation of many that led to the break up. It got to a point where you would tell him you were going out and he’d automatically assume you were hanging out with the coworker, throwing a snarky, “don’t come back if you smell like him,” at you before you bitterly slam the door in his face. Until one night you had a work party and you didn’t invite Sungho to come with you, not even mentioning it to him. He only found out because your friends had posted about it.

“So were you ever going to tell me about this? Why didn’t you invite me to come with you?”

Sungho shows you his phone screen with your friend’s post before slamming it on the table. 

“You’ve been so insufferable and insecure whenever I bring up anything work-related. If I invited you out tonight you would’ve punched the guy in the face when you saw him.”

“And why is that so bad, huh, Y/N? You don’t want me to punch your boy toy now?”

“PARK SUNGHO HE IS NOT MY BOY TOY AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY, UNDERSTOOD?”

You angrily throw down your stuff, marching up to him. 

“I haven’t done anything. He hasn’t done anything. WE haven’t done anything so why can't you believe me and move on from the fact that I have a male friend? Are you that insecure about me leaving you when I’ve never done anything to betray your trust? Do I mean that little to you that you won't even give me the benefit of the doubt?”

Tears are slowly making their way down your face as you try to wipe them away before smudging your makeup. His expression softens, not realizing how far he’d let his jealousy come.

“Y/N I–”

“Save it, Sungho. You clearly don’t respect me or trust me. I’ll be back later to get some of my things. I’ll stay with my parents until you can figure your shit out. Call me when you’ve gotten some sense back.”

Anger, shock, disbelief. Sungho couldn’t believe that he had let this get so out of hand. Why was he so jealous in the first place? You guys still hung out and had dates every week and you were right; you never gave him any reason to doubt your loyalty to him. 

He’d spend the next few days figuring out what it is he wants but more than that, he just wanted to give you your space. You didn’t want to leave so abruptly like that, but his toxic behaviors were driving you mad. Every time he’d spew some bullshit about you and your coworker you’d want to punch him in the face. You needed to give Sungho the time and space to figure out what his problem was, but more than anything you just wanted to be back in his arms. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Riwoo:

When you first met Riwoo, it took him some time to get used to your bubbly and outgoing personality. You loved being out and having fun and partying, while he preferred to stay at home. It never bothered you that he didn’t always want to go out with you and it never bothered him that you would always want to go out. It would cause some small tiffs between you two about where date night would take place that week, but other than that, there were no issues with your opposing lifestyles. But somewhere along the way, his attitude about your friends and your constant outings had changed. He would fight it more often, using lame excuses that you would take to avoid any more fighting. 

“I heard you’re going out with her (your friend) tonight?”

“Oh yeah, she invited me out after an argument she had with her boyfriend. We’re just going to the food stands so she can vent, nothing crazy.”

“Well, I heard she got into a fight with him because she was showing herself off to other men?”

“I mean, it is summer and she was at the beach? It’s not like she was 'showing herself off to other men,' she just wanted to wear a swimsuit. But apparently there's more to it she’s going to tell me about tonight.”

You were a little taken aback at his statement, not having expected him to find a problem with a woman wearing a bathing suit or moreso, using such a demeaning phrase against another woman, especially at the insinuation of wanting another man’s attention. 

He just rolled his eyes and you both awkwardly sat there, until you broke the silence, telling him that you'd be leaving now and that you'd be back later. 

Letting the rest of the evening play out, you came back with food for Riwoo, hoping that whatever he was saying earlier was just a result of him being hungry or having an off day and you knew food always made him feel better. 

“Honey! I brought you some food!”

You expect him to come running like he usually does when you bring home food, but this time he just walks up to you, phone in hand. 

“Thank you baby.”

He sits down and starts eating, waiting for you to tell him about your day.

“Okay so, apparently they’ve been having these issues for a while and this isn’t the first time he’s made some comment about her revealing her body or wearing revealing clothes. Just today he told her that she couldn’t wear jean shorts to meet up with me. Like it's 90 degrees out, what did he want her to wear, fluffy pajama pants?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons for not wanting her to wear revealing clothes in public? Why doesn’t she just respect his wishes?”

“Because he doesn’t have control over what she wears and how she wants to show off her own body? Yeah they’re dating but it’s not like she’s his to claim or anything.”

“Are you sure you should be friends with someone that doesn’t at least try to hear their boyfriend out?”

“Sanghyeok, what the hell are you talking about? What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? I just mean that I wouldn’t want you to be around people that don’t respect what others say. Who knows? Maybe she’ll start ignoring what you say and just move on to something else. She’s making a big deal over one thing so what if you get into an argument one day and she stops being your friend? I wouldn't want that happening to you.”

He rubs your arm up and down, trying to get you to understand his point of view but you move away from his touch. 

“I don’t know why you're talking like that, but I don’t like it.”

You walk away from him, but something in your mind starts reconsidering your entire friendship with your best friend. Was she really so bad for not respecting her boyfriend's wishes over her clothes? 

A few more instances arise where Riwoo tries to nicely reason with you on who you can and can’t hang out with, saying things like “I don’t want you to get hurt,” or “I don’t think you should wear that, the men around you might get the wrong idea.” And you slowly found yourself listening to him, so much so to the point where you didn’t have anyone left to hang out with besides him. 

You spent days at home, your bright personality dimmed from not having any social interaction outside of your boyfriend. It wasn’t until you got a message from one of your friends, reaching out after you had made an excuse that Riwoo gave you to not hang out with her. It clicked in your brain that your friends had done nothing wrong. It was actually him that was the problem. 

“Hey baby, ready for movie night?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

You stood up from your little blanket cocoon ready to confront him. 

“You know what I realized? This whole time, you telling me not to hang out with this person or that doing this is wrong, even telling me what I can and can’t wear? You were just manipulating me this whole time. Why? You don’t think I should do things on my own?” 

“Baby, I wasn’t manipulating you I—“

“Do NOT call me baby, you have no right. You don’t care for me and you don’t even love me. If you did you would let me be myself and not this shell of the person I once used to be. If you don’t like how I am then why have we been together this long?” 

“Y/N, I was just looking out for you that’s it.” 

“Well you can stop looking out for me, we’re done.” 

You decide then to leave him, packing your things without turning back. He can tell he’s taken it too far. He was too selfish wanting you all for himself. You deserved happiness and you weren’t going to find that with him. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Jaehyun:

The textbook definition of a workaholic. Jaehyun had expressed to you before how important his career as an idol was and that if you couldn’t handle days without seeing him or barely seeing him at all, then a relationship wasn’t the best idea. But you of course, in the optimistic honeymoon phase, denied the hardships of being in a relationship with an idol and agreed to date him anyways. Love was enough, right? 

At first, things were great. It was hard, admittedly, having to hide yourself whenever you walked into the building and even from the staff for a while, only being able to meet him in empty conference rooms after somehow managing to sneak up there by yourself. But slowly his members and staff found out and you were in the clear to freely be around each other during his practices. You even brought snacks and lunch for everyone on occasion. But you also working meant that you didn’t get to see each other much. Though this is what you had anticipated, you didn’t think it was going to be as hard as it was. 

Jaehyun would be busy hosting or in variety shows or interviews in the morning and then spend the rest of his day at the practice room or the studio. He was allowed to be over at your apartment but even then it was hard only being able to sleep next to him for a couple hours since he would be too tired to engage in anything other than a short conversation whenever he came home. He would always try to call and talk but even that got redundant since he was always so busy. 

The lack of physical contact and barely any contact at all was starting to put a strain on your relationship. You would constantly try to get him to rest or stop working but he would insist that his work was too important to stop, often insinuating that it was more important than you.

You would try to visit him whenever possible but it always felt like you were always putting more effort to see him than he would to see you. It all came to a head when he was able to get a day off. The whole group was given time off after nonstop preparations for award shows and their upcoming tours. You were finally able to get your hands on him, innocently and not so much. The night he came home was great, filled with love and passion and all the pent up emotions from the months of strain you had endured. But the next day didn’t hold the same feelings. 

Waking up to each other was all that you had asked for since the beginning of your relationship. You’d usually find yourself asleep when he came home and then he’d be gone by the time you woke up. An endless cycle of just barely missing each other was halted for just a day. Assuming that you’d be in his arms the rest of the day, you let him sleep in as you shower and work on breakfast for the both of you, taking your time. 

“Good morning baby, it smells amazing in here.” 

The cliché back hug while you cooked up eggs was exactly what you had pictured, never wanting this moment to end. After eating you let him rest while you cleaned up a little bit. Once you were done, you were slightly disappointed to have found him in the room playing online games with Donghyun and Sungho.

“Hey baby. I thought we were going to hang out today?” 

You say, all cute and pouty. 

“I know, baby. I’m only gonna play a couple rounds with them and then I’m all yours, okay?” 

He gives you a quick kiss before going back to his game, focus completely shifting as he tried to recover from his last death. You sigh as you walk away. You didn’t want to sound commanding and needy but you’ve barely seen him and wanted to hang out with him. 

You kill time by watching shows on Netflix. One hour turns into two and two turns into 4 as he emerges from the room, a disappointed look on his face. Upon hearing the bedroom door open, you turn back to see him. 

“I have some bad news…” 

“Oh no, Jaehyun, what is it?” 

“They called me into the studio just now. Apparently something happened to the usb drive that had a bunch of pre-released tracks on them and they want to see if I can save them.” 

You look at him in disbelief, tears welling up in your eyes. Voice broken, you respond,

“C-can’t they call a computer technician or something? Why are they having you go? Do you know how to retrieve the files?”

“Well no but—“ 

“So why do you have to go then?” 

“Y/N…” 

He comes closer, giving you a hug as you let your tears stream down your face and into his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t just not go.” 

You didn’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but you couldn’t let your anger build up any longer. 

“You just HAD to play games with Donghyun and Sungho huh? Instead of spending time with me.” 

You pull away from him, eyes red and angry as tears continue to spill from your eyes and voice cracking in rage. 

“They wanted to hop on for a bit and wanted me to join them…” 

“You see them EVERYDAY!! I’ve barely seen you because your work is SO important, more important than me and then the ONE day you have off, you choose to spend half the day with the people you see LITERALLY everyday and now you’re coming out here telling me that you have to go BACK to work??? Jaehyun I don’t know how much more of this I can take…” 

Tears are slipping down his cheeks as his voice starts to break at his next words, 

“Baby I told you that it was going to be hard and that my work is so important. You know I cant say no to them.”

“So you’re choosing work again over me? Just like how you chose your friends over me? And like how you choose everything else in your life over me? Alright, that’s fine.” 

You wipe your tears as the sadness dissipates and is replaced by anger. You have no words left to say as you try to walk past him, his hand grabbing your wrist delicately stopping you from walking away. 

“Y/N please, that’s not fair. I’m so sorry. You’re so important to me and I know this is hard but can we talk about this when I get back?” 

“I’ve given you plenty of chances Jaehyun. You always refuse my help, refuse my offer when I tell you to rest or spend time with me. I have nothing left to say to you.” 

You harshly pull your hand away from his grip, closing and locking the bedroom door as Jaehyun gathers himself, washing his face before grabbing his things and heading out to the studio. Maybe love wasn’t enough. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Taesan: 

Taesan was good at everything. Almost. He was smart, always got good grades and he was very musically talented. He could sing, rap, dance and even play the piano. He was also very determined, attending both college and dance/ singing practices at his entertainment company, KOZ. You knew he was very busy but you shared similar classes and would always pair up together for projects or assignments so not being able to see each other was never an issue. The problems arose when he was stressed beyond belief. 

He seemed very chill and nonchalant to strangers, not really showing his mischievous yet funny personality. But you knew him as the fun, lovable, fake emo that was surprisingly affectionate and loved giving you cute couple gifts, like the guitar heart keychain on your bag. But when he was stressed, it was like he shut the rest of the world out, including you. At first you thought he just didn’t know how to manage that much stress yet and would cut him some slack, letting him figure things out on his own. But when his behaviors under said stress persisted even after a couple months of dating, you were starting to get sick of it. 

He was good at everything, except telling you how he was feeling. He would text you normally one day and then go no contact for multiple days, even avoiding you during classes. It would irk you the most when you’d see him hanging out with his friends right in front of your face, acting like everything was fine and then ignoring you. Finally fed up with all his antics you waited again until he hit another no contact stress period to confront him. 

You both had a big exam coming up. Exams in this class were 20% of your grade, each, so you knew he would be stressed trying to juggle studying and practice. Like you predicted, a week before the exam he stopped messaging you. He didn’t even sit next to you in class, choosing to sit by himself in the corner of the lecture hall, face buried in his laptop and notes. You would find him later in the day at the student center, talking and laughing with his friends, still not having received even a single text from him for the last few days. You decided to take pictures of him with his friends, keeping it as evidence if he tried to deny your accusations. You waited until after the exam was over to message him, “let’s hang out today! I miss you :(,” hoping that your fake excitement was conveyed through the message. You weren’t surprised to see that he had messaged you back after, simply replying with “sure,” which made you even angrier. No talking for a week and the only thing he says back to you is “sure?” 

You’re with him in a solo practice room, the small space covered in mirrors on two sides a little claustrophobic for you. 

“Dongmin, we need to talk.” 

His sigh indicated to you that he knew what you wanted to talk about. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” 

His attitude was already bad, pissing you off even more. 

“Let’s get this over with? Why are you acting like this is such a burden on you? Ignoring me, your girlfriend, for a week because you’re stressed studying for an exam and being here at practice but you can hang out with your friends no problem?” 

“Y/N you’re being ridiculous I wasn’t hanging out with my friends and I have been stressed, you know that.” 

“Oh really?” 

You scoff, pulling up the picture of him laughing with a couple of his friends, the date being that of 2 days ago. His face doesn’t change, if anything he looks more uninterested than when the conversation started, not even caring that he was caught in his lie. 

“You’re really gonna stand here and tell me that you haven’t been hanging out with your friends all week when you have? Why can’t you just tell me why you don’t message me, why you ignore me whenever you have too much on your plate. All I ask is that you communicate but you never do!” 

“You’re just too much to deal with.” 

That one sentence shut you up, tears on the brink of falling from your eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“What?” 

“Recently you’ve been too much to deal with. Especially when I’m stressed. I can’t handle you and all my work and practice all together. And you know I’m not good at communicating. I don’t like to talk about my feelings.” 

It was the way that he had no emotion behind his sentences that made the lump in your throat even bigger. When did he stop caring about you? When did he stop loving you?

“Where is all this coming from? I thought everything was fine? You always acted normal after your little ghosting.” 

“You never saw that as a problem? That I would ghost you and pretend that everything was fine after? At first I was just learning how to juggle everything at once. But after a while, I started to get tired of this. I guess I just didn’t know how to say it.” 

He was so cold about it that you didn’t know how to react. Heart broken into a million pieces, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“You should’ve told me a while ago. Before things got this far. It’s been 8 months and you couldn’t tell me that you didn’t want to be together?” 

“Sorry. Like I said, I don’t talk about my feelings or emotions. You should’ve known that.” 

You couldn’t stand to be in that suffocating room with him any longer, shoving him out of the way as you bolt out the door, tears falling haphazardly as you exit the building. You were so lost, so hurt that he was feeling this way and never said a thing and yet he still managed to make you feel like shit about it. You wipe your tears away, removing the keychain he gave you from your bag and throwing it down to the ground, stomping on it. 

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin.”

༄ ༄ ༄

Leehan: 

The undeniably attractive, oblivious and kind hearted man that everyone loves. He was incredibly popular on your small campus, loved by men and women alike. So you were very surprised to find that he had taken an interest in you. You wouldn’t say you had a crush on him but of course you couldn’t deny his beauty. You weren’t shy per se but you didn’t put yourself out there. You had your circle of friends and did your part in the clubs you were in but that was it. 

Everyone knew him as the lovely fish guy, always talking about his pet fish and what he hopes to achieve in his tank in the future. You had only ever seen him at your school’s aqua life club, as he was the president of it. You worked with him before but you didn’t know him that well. 

“Hey Y/N.” 

There were a couple of other people helping to organize the fundraiser your club was hosting, Donghyun came to speak to you first.

“Hey Donghyun, how’ve you been?”

“I’m doing well. I actually had a question to ask you.” 

“Oh? What’s up? Did you need help with something for the club?” 

He nervously scratches the nape of his neck before flashing his bright smile at you. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime? I completely understand if you don’t want to but I just thought I’d ask.”

You were taken aback, not really expecting to have been asked on a date by him, but you agreed nonetheless. Which brought you to your current situation. 

Donghyun would constantly get invited out to parties by his friends or girls who thought they had a chance with him. You guys had more of a friends with benefits relationship, occasionally going on dates whenever he asked. But you inevitably caught feelings for him. You were scared to confront him about them, worried about what his reaction might be. The next time you saw him was when he invited you out to dinner. After eating, you went back to your apartment. Usually the time after your date was spent feeling each other up, as per your arrangement, but today felt different. Dognhyun could feel the tension radiating off of you so he waited until you were back inside to ask you about it.

“Everything okay? You seemed a little tense back at the restaurant?”

You fiddled with your jewelry, his nervous smile making you even more nervous. 

“Yeah it's just… there's something we need to talk about…”

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you have a boyfriend now and have to end things with me? If you waited to tell me that after our date then that's just cruel.”

His laugh is lighthearted, almost mocking, as if the possibility of you getting a boyfriend and breaking things off him was unlikely. You reciprocate his laugh nonetheless.

“No… I actually think we need to end things for a different reason.”

His joking manner turned serious as the words left your mouth, sitting on the couch and pulling you down with him. 

“Did I do anything to upset you? I like this arrangement we have and if there's anything I can do to fix it please tell me.”

“No Donghyun, it's not you. It's just… I like you. I know that's against what our arrangement was about but I can’t help it.”

“Y/N… you know I can’t date you. It’d be too… weird. I don't meant weird but you know, I’m the president of aqua life and I have a big name here and-”

“And being with me would ruin your reputation so you decided to just sleep with me instead?”

He fell silent, confirming your previous statement and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. How had you not known how he truly felt this whole time?

“Why take me out on all these dates then if you strictly wanted it to be just sex? It’s not like everyone in the club doesn’t know anyways so this ruining your reputation bullshit doesn’t make much sense. Or were you just hoping that things would work out and you could throw me away when you got bored?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want a relationship with you. I took you out on dates to be nice so we could keep things like this between us. If I had known you were going to catch feelings for me I wouldn’t have done all this.”

“You’re such an asshole. You were giving me mixed signals this whole time, taking me out and treating me like a girlfriend, holding my hand and shit and you expected me not to catch feelings? Just so I’d stay fucking you in hopes that I dont realize just how much you suck? You’re a dick, Donghyun.”

He didn’t have it in him to try to argue with you or calm you down, getting up from the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve said a lot of things that were taken out of context. If you would like to talk more about this then let me know. But for the record, I do apologize for all of this. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew this is how things would go.”

“You can take your apology and shove it up your ass, Donghyun.”

You basically push him out of your apartment, slamming the door in his face. You waited until you heard his footsteps walk away to silently sob to yourself for not seeing his true colors sooner. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Woonhak:

A normally very sweet yet childish boy that had so much love to give you. His passive aggressive tendencies towards his friends would always make you laugh, his embarrassment at being babied by them entertaining to you. He could be the most perfect boyfriend ever, when he didn’t have anger issues. Even though he would never admit to it, Woonhak was very sensitive and it was very apparent when he was angry or ticked off. It didn’t help that he couldn’t control himself when he was angry, often opting to yell at the person that made him mad. 

The first time you saw him angry, he was in an argument with Jaehyun. With their comeback approaching quickly, tensions between all the boys were high and all the criticisms were getting to them. While the others had more sensibility and maturity when it came to controlling their anger, Woonhak would just explode. You had walked into the practice room to deliver dinner to the boys, a simple meal you got from the food stand down the road. You heard yelling come from the practice room but you just assumed it was an instructor giving them directions for their comeback stage. But upon walking in, you see Woonhak and Jaehyun fighting, screaming about the performance. 

You were quite soft spoken yourself, so hearing Woonhak yell like that scared you, making you drop the food on the floor, alerting the two boys of your presence. They both looked at you seething, but Jaehyun’s expression softened up when he saw you there, standing frozen as the food had started leaking from the bag and onto the floor. Woonhak looks at you but just huffs and walks away, probably embarrassed that you had to see that. You slowly clean up the food in shock, Jaehyun apologizing while helping you clean. 

You go to see Woonhak after and see that he had tear stains down his cheeks, visible through his messed up makeup. Thinking you were Jaehyun, he started yelling again, asking to be left alone before looking back at you, seeing the tears in your eyes in fear of being yelled at by him. He quickly apologizes to you before walking away, mad at himself for being such an idiot and blowing up at you for no reason. You were scared and upset, not being able to handle being yelled at from anyone, especially your boyfriend. 

You had waited for him to come to you and when he did, he immediately apologized again and hugged you, asking for your forgiveness. You of course said yes, as long as he doesn’t yell at you ever again. He agreed and you guys were fine for a while. After the comeback and promotions, they were right back to practicing for another comeback plus the first part of their tour. You had learned that Woonhak just needed space when preparing for comebacks, so you always gave him distance when he was at his busiest, but recently, everything seemed to piss him off, including you. 

You would be at his dorm, preparing food for the boys after practice and he would come home mad, stressed and tired. You’d politely offer him a try of the food you are making, only to be swatted away by him and ignored, making you feel less than adequate. He did this a couple times and your patience slowly dwindled, until you met your breaking point. 

A particularly rough afternoon had resulted in him getting into a fight with Taesan over lyrics to their new song. He was being reprimanded for trying to add lyrics that were shot down multiple times. You just so happened to get caught in crossfire, and he would blame you, saying that it was your constant need for his attention that distracted him. Upon hearing this you felt the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Is that what you think of me? A distraction to your music career for simply wanting to be by your side?”

Taesan looked like a deer in headlights, excusing himself from the situation, afraid of feeling your wrath. 

“Y/N, you know that's not what I mean, I’m just frustrated.”

“That's the issue Kim Woonhak, you’re ALWAYS frustrated. You're always stressed and there's always something wrong. Anytime I try to help you, you treat me like I’m a burden and I can never be good enough to help you. You always ignore me when I’m here so I’ve stopped asking for your attention in hopes that you’d come to me for once but you never do. Do you even want to be with me anymore?”

Tears were flowing down his cheeks not being able to hold them back any longer after your confession. 

“Y-Y/N, i love you so much. I’m sorry I’m so busy… I want to be with you I swear I can treat you right I just need some time during this comeback and–”

“I’ve given you nothing but time, Woonhak. I don’t have any more of my time to give you. I can’t stay here while you yell at me and I can’t stand the fact that you think I’m the one holding you back. So I won’t be here to hold you back anymore, Kim Woonhak. We’re done.”

You can no longer hold your tears back, letting them roll down your face and onto the ground as you slowly pack up your belongings, giving him one last hug before leaving, wishing him luck on his upcoming comeback and tour. 

[igotanidea]

(7) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1/ part 2 / part 3 / part 4/ part 5 / part 6

A/N: ladies and gentlemen I give you : THE FINALE! happy early b-day @pookieisme4life 🎁🎁 (I was about to wait till 24th but it turned out impossible I am so excited to post it!!!)

***

„Who the hell are you?”

Honestly, he could care less about the ID of the mystery person, nor he hoped for the actual answer, but the initial shock did just that.

They were driving towards some unknown destination that was allegedly the location of the place Y/N was taken to.

“Nice try, Nightwing. Keep dreaming” the person, who was already deemed as a woman, laughed, swirling abruptly yet skillfully.

“Seriously you can’t just expect me to address you in a hey, you way.”

“Valid point. For the sake of it, let’s settle on calling me Shadow.”

“Fine. Whatever. Now why are you helping me?”

“I did some bad things In my life. Maybe this is my way of making up for them.”

“Huh. Seeking redemption?”

“Pretty nice trope, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was actually pretty nice to be able to use humor even in dire situations. “I was always a sucker for the character who wants to do better in their life.”

“Yeah. At least you chose a better way to do so than my brother.”

“You mean Red Hood?”

“For someone I don’t know shit about, you seem awfully knowledgeable about my family ties.”

“Intel is everything, Nightwing. And yes, I know what your other brother, Red Robin, might say.”

“Who the hell are you?!” At this point Dick was really getting curious.

“A friend.” She responded, looking right at him, her eyes shining from behind the mask.

***

“Let me go!!”

“Easy princess. Behave or this might actually get worse for you.”

“LET ME GO!!” she struggled against the binding on her wrist and the sack put on her head.

“What did I tell you, you bitch!?” She was abruptly pulled out of the car and thrown onto the ground. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Fuck you!”

“If I were you, I’d cooperate, you little slut. Otherwise we might have to scar that pretty face of yours more than it’s necessary.”

With a sharp movement the sack was torn off her head and she had to squint her eyes from the light that hit her eyes with excessive force, reinforced by the fact she had just spent god knows how much time in a dark car with eyes covered.

“Shit…” there was no possibility to hold back the hiss and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes. Yes sunshine, you’re in deep shit.” The kidnapper kneeled to her level and caressed her cheek in a condescending gesture, obviously misreading her tears as a sign of fear and submission. “So pretty…”

“Piss off!” she acted instinctively, ending up with a slap on the cheek and stinging sensation that only added to her anger.

“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”

“I had a stinking sack on my head, maybe there was something wrong with my hearing at the time and – “ her head spun to the side as another slap, this time far harder landed on her cheek.

“Well you definitely heard me now. And if you didn’t I won’t hesitate to remind you again. Now get up, we’re taking you to the boss.”

Great.

She was in a freaking video game, when two brainless thugs captured her for a reason that was still a mystery to her and was now taking her to the den of a final boss on the level.

***

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Should she even be surprised that said den had a design of a video game? Dark, cold, adjourned with different kinds of weapons scattered here and there, huge desk in the middle and three monitors that took up the entire wall?

Almost grotesque.

But hey, who was she to judge the taste of Gotham’s criminals, right?

She probably should have been terrified, praying to every higher power to be saved by Batman, Red Hood, Robin or – damn – even Poison Ivy in the worst case, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to that particular emotion. It was like her brain refused to anchor in reality and everything turned into a freaking dream she was sure to wake up from any second now.

Though maybe getting back to reality in which Dick was still with Sienna and she was brokenhearted wasn’t really a good alternative.

Right. Dick.

Did he even notice her gone? Or was he too busy patching things up with his girlfriend, already forgetting about Y/N? The girl he claimed to love?

A kick in the back of the knees that send her to the floor (again) made her realize that while getting lost in her thoughts she missed the obviously very important and very detailed speech of the villain who was describing his wicked plan to take over the world and –

“Ouch!”

“Stupid bitch.”

“It hurts!” she tried to squirm away from the kicking but it was immensely hard with her hands still bound.

“Hold the fire, boys. Easy. The lady is our guest after all and this is not how we treat guests, is it?” The goons chuckled darkly, because clearly guests were deserving of a far more cruel and brutal treatment. “Now, now, don’t be scared little one. We won’t hurt you. Much. At least not until you give us what we want.”

The owner of a deep, husky voice, who clearly was the host of the party finally decided to step forward and show his face.

Well.

Not exactly showing his face.

***

 “Could you at least tell me who we’re dealing with here?!” Dick muttered, keeping his voice low as he and Shadow pulled at the abandoned building on the outskirts of Gotham. “Do you even know?”

“Why? Does it matter?” Shadow joked “Would you use a different contingency plan for Riddler and another one for Two Face?”

“Could you please stop joking about it? This is my girlfriend we’re talking about!”

The emotions started to come to the surface, and Nightwing started becoming uncharacteristically scatter-brained.

“Idiot. Keep it down!” Shadow hissed, pulling him behind the corridor crease, miraculously avoiding the watchful gaze of the guardian. “Here’s what I get for putting myself at risk. Nightwing announcing his presence to the entire compound filled with criminals. Get yourself together. Or is it too hard for you?!”

Dick grimaced. He hated himself at the moment. For both losing his cool, especially in front of someone who could hold it against him and for missing on precious time since every second counted.

“Y/N. Think about Y/N.” he muttered to himself “She needs your help. Now more than ever.”

He took a few deep breaths, calming down the storm inside him to the point where he was actually in control and capable of turning the fear and concern into anger.

If anyone touched his Y/N….

“You back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m back.” He opened his eyes, completely focused, eyes sharp, instincts on high alert. “Tell me who’s the fucker who dared to take her.”

“Black Mask.”

“Fucker.” The word left Dick’s lips without the involvement of his brain. That was how much he loved her. The golden boy, teasing, joking and playful nightwing turned into a machine, swearing and ready to freaking kill, almost Red Hood like.

“So? Ready to kick some asses?”

“After you.” The predatory smirk blooming on his face was a sign of incoming violence and spilling blood.

***

Her screams mixed with the ones coming from the corridor in a beautiful, gory cacophony of sounds. An ode painted with blood and pain. Maybe that was why for a longer moment no one in the room actually paid attention nor was willing to try and differentiate the sources of notes in the song.

 Or maybe it was the fact that the goons’ cries were extremely high-pitched, almost reaching the same key as the yelling of a woman trapped in the torture machine, losing strength with every passing second.

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Black Mask laughed cruelly “you don’t get to pass out on me yet. Info first.” The iron grip on her wrist tightened even more, as if that was even possible, cutting into skin and muscle, amplifying the blood loss.

For the last whatever-time-passed she was kept on the edge of consciousness as if Black Mask was hoping that choking, hurting and injecting with some substance would cause her to lose inhibitions and finally blurt out the information he was so dead set on getting.

Who is Nightwing.

Who is Batman.

Any piece of information would turn out to be useful, but since the beginning of the questioning it became painfully clear that that stupid girl was either too weak or too strong to answer.

Too weak because it seemed that even the slightest amount of pain made her repeatedly pass out and too strong because on those intermittent periods where she actually was conscious and aware of the surroundings enough to talk was the one making her extremely stubborn and uncooperative.

And Black Mask was losing his patience.

Here he was, gracing that little scum with his presence instead of submitting her to the treatment of his lower men, with less than gracious methods and she had the audacity to be bratty.

A vicious circle in which he was using the moments to get information only to be refused, beating her again and ending up with a thoughtless body, achieving nothing, over and over again.  

He should have just stuck to using his rat, skillfully planted in Gotham.  

“Fuck!” he yelled seeing as once again she went limp on the chair only because he pulled her nail. “Stupid bitch!”

“Mmmmm…” Y/N muttered and for a moment the room was completely quiet save from her little whimpering.

And then –

“OUCH!”

“FUCK!”

“RETREAT!”

“The hell?” Black Mask walked to the door and looked through the peephole. “Fuck!” Seeing his guards and men being thrown in different directions, sounds of yelling and snapping bones alongside with blood streaming on the floor was not the best view before 7 p.m. and definitely not the best without his favorite drink. Under any other circumstances he would be giving zero fucks about the violence outside the safe door, but now – he had a plan to complete and no one, fucking no one would prevent him from succeeding.

The loud sound of a door’s guard crashing with the metal surface and pictorially sliding down with crushed skull caused Sionis to quickly recalibrate his plan.

Seemed like Red Hood was in the house. And not that Sionis was scared, but-

“Hold them back!” he yelled, grabbing the limp body of Y/N and rushing towards the safety exit, to the roof where his private jet was landed just in case of emergencies.

And this was clearly an emergency.

***

The door broke about 30 seconds after Black Mask rushed to the passage.

“You carry explosives with you everywhere?” Dick muttered, equally impressed and shocked.

“What? It comes in handy and -”

“AAAAH!” Both goons rushed at the two vigilantes before Shadow could finish a sentence, but their brave loud cries quickly turned to quiet, broken sobbing as they were laid down.

“Be a sweetheart and tell me where he went?” Nightwing leaned over the goon with an almost soft smile.

“mhm…” inert waving towards the passage was enough of an answer.

“Good boy. Thanks.”

***

“NO!!” she yelled as Black Mask was dragging her through the roof. Sudden realization of all the things that could go wrong making her much more valiant and strong. As long as she was still in Gotham and not exported to another city or – god forbid – country – could result in being deemed as another missing-without-trail- person.

That is – if someone was even looking for her in the first place.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes at the thought that she could be so easily forgotten.

And the terror she was holding back for so long, since the moment of being dragged into that black SUV, finally found a way out…

“NIGHTWING!!!”

***

“Y/N!!”

A dead man would hear that cry and even a dead man would rise from the dead at the sheer desperation beaming from the voice.

“Y/N!!! I’m coming!”

***

“You’re becoming a trouble!” Black Mask hissed, slapping her repeatedly, drawing another stream of blood this time from the broken lip.

“I – “

“I’m so done with you. Should have just killed you the second you turned out to be of zero significance to the cause. Now come here you little bitch-“

“No!!”

She blindly started to run away, only to trip (obviously) and ending up back in Sionis’ grip.

“NO!!”

He was too strong and she was too scared and stiff to fight anymore. Digging heels into the ground did no harm and was definitely no hindrance in being pulled towards the ledge of the 10-stories building.

“NO!!!!”

“Y/N!!”

Both the girl and Sionis froze for a moment as another male voice cut into the screaming match.

But it was too late.

***

“Go!” Shadow was probably the only one who didn’t lose cold blood.  “GO!”

***

She was falling.

And it was beautiful.

Knowing that she would finally be free of all the pain, of all the heartbreak, of the guilt coming with betraying another girl by sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend. Liberated from being stuck in the memories of the past when she was actually happy, before everything went to shit.

“I love you Dick…” she whispered, finally crashing to the ground.

***

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Oh, come on, not this again!” Shadow hissed, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that everyone she encountered was far more interested in getting to know her personality, rather than fearing her killer skills.

For Black Mask it took a record time of ten minutes before calling defeat and ending up bound and being taken by the GCPD.

***

“Y/N.”

She opened one eye and much to her surprise found out that she was not a celestial body looking at her bloodied pulp of a body on the pavement.

“I love you too…” the warm embrace around her was welcomed but in time started to become a little suffocating and her battered body refused to be squeezed.

“Dickie…”

“Shh… shh, I got you.” He whispered again, caressing her hair, kissing her forehead, doing everything to assure both her and himself that it was all over and that he got her, that she was safe and he would never let it happen again. Never.

“H-How? W-what happened-? I – I thought-“

“You thought so little of me, didn’t you?”

“Idiot.”

“Hey!”

“Fucking prick! I swear if it wasn’t for this – “ she swung her injured arm in the air “I’d slap the hell out of you!”

“I saved you!”

“I almost died and you’re making jokes!”

Oh. Right. Maybe, just maybe given the circumstances it was slightly inappropriate.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. You better.” She pouted, but he knew better, wiping the unshed tears. “It’s over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“What happened?”

“I’m an acrobat, remember? I jumped. And damn, I wish someone had that on video because it was really one of my best – Ouch! Ouch! Ok, ok! Stop it! Point taken!”

***

“How are we doing here?”

Once Sionis was seated in the back of a police car, hands were shaken and words of gratitude exchanged Shadow walked towards Dick and Y/n.

“I think she’ll live.” Dick teased with a smirk, predictably moving a safe distance away from his -- .

Right.

Maybe there was no happy ending after all with that messed up relationship thing hanging over their heads like a freaking axe.

“Can’t say the same about Nightwing though” Y/N pushed the thought away, settling on sending him a death stare for making fun of her again.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I think you made up for whatever crime you were trying to redeem, Shadow. Thank you. I owe you. You saved my –“

“Girlfriend?” Shadow prompted, looking between Y/N and Dick, making them both blush in a bit of embarrassment.

“It’s complicated-“ they both said at the same time.

“Oh, trust me, it’s not complicated at all!” Shadow laughed

“What do you mean? You don’t know-“

“I know more than you think. Haven’t I proved that already?” Shadow turned around, making sure no one was watching and slowly took of her mask.

***

Fast forward. One week later.

Y/N was walking out of the hospital. It seemed like her arm was healing nicely and there were no complications, though her doctor was very stern while telling her she was supposed to rest and not get herself involved in any form of physical activity.

If he only knew that she was in a relationship with Gotham’s and Bludhaven vigilante.

“Y/N!”

Speaking of which, said vigilante was now honking at her from his Porsche.

“Showoff!”

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

She laughed and jumped inside the vehicle.

“You’re supposed to hold the doors open for me!”

“Mh. Missed you too, sunshine.” He leaned over the gearbox kissing her with a cheeky grin. “How’s the hand?”

“She’ll live.”

“Quoting me already, princess? Careful, I might think you consider me a superstar or something.”

“Idiot!”

“Ouch! You’re hurting me. But I’m willing to forgive you, giving the circumstances of late.”

He started the engine and took the way to the city.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?” her head fell onto the car’s headrest and she sighed heavily. “I mean – who would have thought…”

***

Flashback

“S-Sienna!?”

“Hey you two.”

“h-hey? What do you mean “hey”?! What is this?! Some sick joke?!”

In her stupor Y/N missed the fact that Dick was as shocked (if not more) as her. Hence it couldn’t have been any conspiracy against Y/N’s mental health.

“Whoa! Whoa! Relax!” Shadow Sienna raised her hands in surrender “Dick-“

“The hell?! How do you know? Damn it-!” he forgot about all the rules of safety and tore off his mask. Getting to the bottom of this shit was far more important.

“- I meant what I said. Really! About that redemption arc! Just – just listen to me!”

“Five minutes.”

“It was all a scheme-“

“Well let me tell you, your explanation is starting off the wrong foot” Dick groaned, pulling Y/N to his side to strengthen her mentally.

“I am Black Mask’s niece in the second line!” Sienna explained dramatically “wait-! Wait-! I have no loyalty to him! Not anymore!”

“One minute left.” Dick hissed

“It was all a plan. He had some vague idea about the ties between the one Dick Grayson and Batman and Y/N and wanted to use all of you against each other.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Yes, fine! I was his spy for a moment, but then you two-. God! You love each other! And I just couldn’t- I couldn’t-“

Y/N wriggled out of Dick’s embrace and walked to Sienna, grabbing both her hands in her healthy one.

“Thank you.”

End of flashback

***

 “I really hope you took your golden visa with you, cause I am about to go crazy with this shopping spree.”

“Hey. No limits on Bruce’s cards. He won’t even notice the loss of a couple thousands and I got my girl back, so-“

“I think we should send-“

“I already took care of that.”

After all the trouble and drama they got their happy ending.

***

In another part of town a certain girl found a fruit and sweet basket on her doorstep. With a little, but meaningful card.

It seemed like she found her happy ending too.

One in which she was no longer used by anyone and treated as a villain.

With the view for a future of freedom.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p @madness1999sworld

@leovergurl

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 60

"she's just... amazing, you know?"

nico chuckled, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back in his seat. he and jack had managed to steal the seats by the only table on the bus to the second game of their newest road trip. while most of the team caught up on some sleep, the two friends were engrossed in a round of gin rummy – one jack was losing by quite a lot. "you keep telling me that," the captain said, placing a king down on the table. "so does anna. i haven't met her, but it feels like i know everything about her already."

jack laughed along with this, picking up a new card from the pile. "i'm going to bring her along so you can meet her someday, and you'll see."

"to the christmas family skate, maybe?"

the younger of the men pressed his lips into a line, head tilting to the side as he looked up from his cards. "not sure about that, it's still a little early," he said.

"early? you've been going out for months, and it's still early?" nico shook his head. "you two see each other all the time, and it's still early. whenever i ask if you want to do something, it's always, no i have a date, or something."

"you're exaggerating."

the swiss sighed, shaking his head. "what's the deal with that, anyway?" he asked. "why won't you bring her along? are you ashamed of her?"

"of course not." jack gazed over his cards for a long time, pretending to think about which card to place instead of formulating his next sentence. "it's just… complicated. difficult. she's not the type to want to be paraded around the arena like a puck bunny or whatever." he finally placed a queen on top of the discard pile, reaching over to grab his water bottle from his bag and take a sip.

"sure. but showing her off and just taking her to one game is different, no?" nico countered, grabbing the queen jack had just placed, and dropping it down in front of him along with two other queens.

the younger groaned at his actions, shaking his head. "how is that even possible?!" he exclaimed, before letting out a deep sigh and returning to the former subject. "i guess… i don't really know where we stand. like, we see each other all the time, but…"

"man, i heard she's got some serious commitment issues, but if it's this bad…"

jack's ears perked up at this. "you heard what? did anna say something?"

nico thought for a moment before placing his cards face-down on the table and sighing. "i don't know how true this is – anna told me that jenny told it to her, but you know girls." jack nodded slowly, so he kept on talking. "there's… some stuff in her past, apparently. her parents' relationship wasn't too good, and one of her exes… man, i shouldn't say anything because i don't really know, so you should ask her yourself."

jack tried his best not to react, to make it seem like he in fact knew everything his captain was talking about. he nodded slowly, a soft "yeah, you're right" slipping from his lips. on the outside, he looked calm as a ???

but on the inside? completely freaking out. your parents? your ex? jack thought he had finally managed to reach deeper into you, that he had finally gotten you to open up. you were much more honest with him, and he was sure that you two were on the right track, even if you moved slowly. but you had never as much as hinted to anything in your past affecting you the way nico was insinuating.

he felt a little dumb, though, that he hadn't realized sooner. of course there was something deeper going on that he had no idea about. but oh how badly he wished you were comfortable enough to tell him about it, instead of him having to hear about it from his friend. who heard it from his fiancée, who heard it from your friend, who heard it from you. four degrees of separation were three too many.

as if sensing that jack needed a break from his own thoughts, nico placed his final two card onto the table, leaving jack with about fifty points worth of deadwood. the boy slammed his head onto the table as he let nico collect all of the cards, a string of curses falling from his lips.

sure, his mind was now occupied, but at what cost?

[archivalofsins]

There are a lot of things within Milgram that will look a lot different in hindsight. There are going to be a lot of people who may not have been there in the moment that will go why did the audience vote this way instead of that way etc.

How could none of them tell these people were bad?

The knee-jerk reaction of a lot of people who were there may be to get defensive and go well it was different in the moment. It was stressful and we were literally working against the clock. We only had three months. Plus, at times the day one verdicts for the prisoners were so decisive that most of those three months were spent getting them down from where they were at.

But like hear me out- Fuck that.

Yeah, I mean that. Fuck that shit. No one needs to explain the process to anyone else that comes trial three or after it. Milgram is a once in a lifetime media experience meant to be lived in the moment and looked at an entirely new way after that moment has ended.

Once hindsight finally sinks in fully that feeling of what one thought they knew conflicting with what they now know. Well that feeling is everything in a series like Milgram. A series where the characters relish in their lies, the swinging impressions and interpretations, revel in the idea of changing Es' and by proxy the audience's opinions on them.

They're throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks just as much as the audience is.

I think it's important to look back reasonably and say to ourselves man that was something. That was intense. It was a moment that felt like an eternity. It was a race we either won or lost.

That's Milgram.

I think it's important to appreciate those trials for what they were and what they gave. So we can better appreciate and understand what they've led to. To make it a little easier for us all to let hindsight in regardless of how stupid it makes us all feel or how heavily it may bruise our egos in order to reckon with the new moments we have ahead of us.

I think the most interesting thing to occur over the course of trial two were the prisoners responses to Haruka. Be it his situation or the news of his plan. Because looking back on it in hindsight... It's incredibly heart wrenching isn't it?

The audience slowly watched Haruka go through someone trying to put himself out there again albeit awkwardly and not that much to isolating himself in his room for days on end. Tearing himself up inside over what he felt he needed to do to protect the one person who ever looked at him in the way he wanted. The one person who had ever loved him in the way he wanted to be loved for better or worse.

His closest person.

So, close and so idyllic, in fact, he said she was his mother. Because she fit what he'd always wanted from a parent. Care, attention, being present. Picking out clothes for him to wear, showing him new ways to style his hair, telling him better ways to communicate with others. The proper way to communicate with others.

"Then what should have I done instead?! Tell me! Tell me, so even I can understand!"/ "It's not like I asked him to do that!"

Q.07 You just got given one million yen and need to use it up as quickly as possible, what will you do?

Haruka: I don’t know so please do it for me. I’ll give it to you.

Mu's Second Voice Drama Queen B

"It's not like I asked him to do that?"

I see. So, that's how it is, huh. You don't say anything; just because you're present, the wishes of those around you evolve to benefit you- Oh, so that's it. Like a born queen. No, it's as if you're influencing your surroundings not with words, but with pheromones.

"My sorry spells must be wearing off."

Mu: Mm... Mu's scared what if the warden changes his verdict and then terrible things happen to me.

Haruka: What no warden-san isn't like that.

Mu: But what if what they see next makes them realize Mu is a bad girl and they end up hating me...

"Hey, what if- If I am a bad girl. Don’t hate me."

Haruka: Don't worry I'll protect you- I'll talk to the warden for the both of us. They already forgave us once they wouldn't suddenly change their mind entirely-

Haruka Voice Drama Two Metamorphosis of the Weak

7:39 "Even though you said you forgive me..." You were told upfront that this is a three-trial system. "Why are you bullying me like this?" I'm not bullying you. I'm simply trying to figure out whether I should forgive you or not- and by extension whether your actions were wrong or not. "There's no way it was wrong! If I hadn't done it, nobody would have looked at me!" You killed to gain attention? The you who was never loved by anyone? "That's right! Because if I just remained a good-for-nothing, nobody would ever care about me!" Just because of that, someone- "Aren't I the only unfortunate person here?! Because I'm the only one who could never do anything right since I was born, because I could never do the same things as everyone around me, my mother gave up on me and I stopped existing in her world!"

It is so funny to read that last part again then look at Kazui in Cat going-

"I can’t stop, I can’t be normal."

And his second voice drama is just him lamenting the same thing. Like Yamanaka lowkey put some comedy in here that can only be appreciated in hindsight.

Haruka

"Why am I like this?! why does it hurt so much to just exist- I'm so sorry I had you waste your life on someone like me."

"Why was I born like this? Why does it hurt so much?"

Kazui a few trials down-

"Why am I fucking like this? Why can't I just be normal? Why do I have to let my cowardice dictate every social maneuver I make and every word I say? Just gotta keep lying it'll work out eventually! After all it's easier to be a let down than get let down! Can I get a witness bring the band in! Let's get swinging-"

"Lie, until it gets better, follow the king of the masquerade. Lick that sin and oppose punishment, until you can meet the king of the masquerade."

Sorry, I'm digressing Kazui was threatening to derail this post harder than Haruka derailed the collaboration art one. Not this time old man. Ahn one more before we hit the road-

"I can’t stop, I can’t stop- Am I still INNOCENT?"/ "I can’t stop, I can’t be normal."

Got damn it another one courtesy of Star,

"I wanted to be a pitied and loved weakling."/"I wanted to be loved, just like a cat."

Okay, now get out of here old man this is about the young man!

Mu was someone so important to Haruka that even after everything Es said to rile up and upset Haruka in his second voice drama he decided to try to be on his best behavior for her sake,

9:26s

"Haa... I'm sorry, warden-san. For causing you trouble." ... "My mother was Muu-san all along." Huh? "Muu-san is my mother." I don't think that's right. "It is, though." Is that really something you can deny... "Muu-san praises me. The useless me... She praises me, acknowledges me, looks at me, and she needs me. My current self only exists thanks to Muu-san." You did say you had two benefactors. So the other one was Muu, huh? "That's right. As long as Muu-san is here, I feel like there's a meaning to me coming to Milgram." ... "I've met my real mother. So, I'm happy. I'm sorry for causing problems earlier. I need to be a good boy- For Muu-san's sake as well."

10:52s

"U-um, I'm sorry, kind of..." Suddenly acting all well-mannered...! Is there something else you want to say? "U-uh something I want to say... Something I want to say..."

I'd appreciate if people could listen to the way Haruka speaks here the stammer and hesitance in his speaking. How when Es prompts him to say whatever he wanted to to say he says something I want to say, something I want to say. Voice cracking almost as though he knows what he should be saying but doesn't want to.

The voice direction on this line says a lot more in hindsight than it did back when this came out, huh?

11:08s

If there's nothing, that's fine. "...No, there is something..." What is it?

"Warden-san, Muu-san is afraid of Milgram."

"Please don't scare Muu-san anymore."

11:21s

You're worrying about a stranger in a situation like this? "Yes. Please forgive Muu-san next time as well." You sure are asking something of me here. Viewing Muu as your mother is great and all, but she might only be kind to you in order to use you, you know. "So, what?" ... "So, what if she's using me. Isn't it a good thing to be used? For someone to think of me as worthy enough to use me... isn't that something to be happy about?" Haruka...you... "If you don't forgive Muu-san, I'm going to kill you." You really have no learning ability whatsoever. You can't kill me. "Ah, right... Then... I'll kill myself instead." You...! "Was that against the rules too?" Not as far as I remember! "Hehe, hahahaha! See! I'm not an idiot, right?"

So, for whose sake was this again?

23/02/19

Haruka: Guard, can you hear me? You can, can’t you?

Haruka: I meant what I said in the interrogation. ……please forgive Mu-san.

23/04/07

Haruka: Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. PleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-san

"Don’t wipe me out, don’t wipe me out- I just want to be your good boy."/ "If you want to betray from jealousy- You know what’s gonna happen ON YOU."

"I need to be a good boy- For Muu-san."

23/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, I brought your food. Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?

Haruka: ……ah, thank you very much. Mu-san. Sorry, um…… I……

Mu: You shouldn’t just lock yourself in your room all day. You have to eat your food properly. Hm, well…… I do understand why you’re feeling down. It feels bad. The atmosphere recently

Haruka: Um, I’m totally fine…… Just a bit, I’m thinking, about how to do it. What to do, what to do, to…… fulfil my promise. For Mu-san’s sake……

Yet, when Es asked her why she wasn't trying dissuade him from possibly harming himself even though they were friends. Even though she was the closest to him.

Even though she influenced how he dressed,

How he conducted himself while speaking,

21/09/02  (Yuno’s Birthday)

Haruka: Y-Yuno-san. Good morning! T-today’s your birthday, right……? Ha-happy birthday……!!

Yuno: Oooh…… Thanks? You’ve definitely changed a bit huh, Haruka. You speak a little louder now, and actually look people in the eyes when you talk.

Haruka: Eh, ah, i-is that so…… I wasn’t, aware of it myself, but…… Heh, hehe. Is that so.

Yuno: Ding ding! My sensor is telling me…… this is probably a girl’s influence. Well, everyone here is slowly changing, I guess. Even me.

"Hey..why don't you listen to me...? I'm telling you... Hey...HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

22/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: What’s wrong, Haruka-kun? Did something happen? You shouldn’t look away like that when you’re together with me.

Haruka: Ah, s-sorry, Mu-san. Um…… No, it’s nothing. I just, suddenly got a feeling. That something is about to happen.

Mu: Isn’t that because it’s your birthday? Or perhaps it’s a sign the guard is about to wake up again soon? Fufufu, I bet they’ll be really surprised at a lot of things.

Haruka: That, might be true. But, I want the the guard to see. ……the new, me…….

And even his behavior while she wasn't even in the same room as him,

"I've met my real mother. So, I'm happy. I'm sorry for causing problems earlier. I need to be a good boy- For Muu-san's sake as well."

"Then what should have I done instead?! Tell me! Tell me, so even I can understand!"/ "That's right! Because if I just remained a good-for-nothing, nobody would ever care about me!"

Haruka's Second Voice Drama Metamorphosis of the Weak 8:15s

Just because of that, someone-

"Aren't I the only unfortunate person here?! Because I'm the only one who could never do anything since I was born. Because I could never do the same things as everyone around me- My mother gave up on me and I stopped existing in her world."

"The things that aren’t here, and the unneeded things- Is it still living somewhere?"

Haruka's Second Voice Drama Metamorphosis of the Weak 8:30s

And you believe that killing someone because of that was the right thing to do?

"I don't know! Then what should have I done, in your opinion?! Even after stealing things important to her, my mother still wouldn't show any interest in me! Then what do you think I should have done?!"

Despite all those things and Haruka's clear desire for guidance when asked why she wasn't dissuading him from his plan Mu just went why and how could I. It's not like I told him to do that, it was his choice and as his friend I should support him.

Because that's what friends do they support each other.

"Are you planning to tell me 'that's not what friendship is'? Then what is it? It's about sticking together because it's beneficial to everyone involved isn't it?"

So, why would I try to stop him. Guard is it just that you haven't had many friends.

She said all that right after leveraging his life for her own benefit within her second voice drama. She tried to build distance between herself and Haruka's behavior all while stating.

"Ah-but if you don't forgive me Haruka-kun will die. So, I think it'd be best not to do that."

Because that's just the sort of person Mu is. She wants all the benefits from an action and none of the responsibility. It doesn't matter if people are just doing things because they wanted to help her. Because she instigated or implied. She didn't ask and they were always free not to get involved.

They didn't need to pity her or try to help.

They could have just not listened. It's not Mu's fault they did. She's always been a drama queen after all. If they want to twist it to make her look like the villain then-

"If you’re going to make me the villain- It’s ok to ignore me."/"Hey..why don't you listen to me…? I'm telling you… Hey…HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

In hindsight it really appears as though Mu just said all that to preemptively say well whatever happens to him isn't Mu's fault.

Haruka's actions and choices are his own as his friend she should support him but it's not as though what he does is Mu's responsibility. Besides guard you could just vote me innocent and that won't happen. You could just vote everyone innocent you know. Isn't Mu so smart and helpful.

Please don't recognize that as the person closest to him I could just tell him I want him alive more than I want to be innocent. If you did that I would look really bad but luckily no one is going to- Hey, hey stop that what are you no- NO!

This is all Kotoko's fault.

24/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: You know, I think this is all your fault really. Everyone’s on edge because you lashed out. And because of that, nobody’s paying attention to me any more. It’s kinda boring. I don’t get it.

Kotoko: ……you went out of your way to say that to my face? Aren’t you scared of me? The next target of my fangs might be you.

Mu: Why? Kotoko-san, aren’t you punishing the bad guys? I didn’t do anything wrong. And anyway, fufu, you’re talking like you’re fine too. Aren’t you gonna be not forgiven too this time? What will you do then? Start biting yourself? Fufu, that’s hilarious. I want to watch.

Kotoko: ……you’re good at provoking people. I’ll pray that you won’t be forgiven this time. When that time comes, I’ll be sure to crush you.

Yeah, it's definitely not that a good majority of people who listened to the Queen B voice drama heard how callous and inconsiderate she was in regards to Haruka's well being. Then went,

"Well if this is how you think friends are supposed to be towards each other no wonder your life is like this."

Or saw her behavior in It's Not My Fault and aptly came to the same conclusion as those who watched the voice drama then voted solely off that.

It's not like anyone thought if she didn't care if he lived or died than why should any of them? She's the closest person to him and has lived with him in person for years and wasn't even batting an eye at his plan. So, why should the audience or Es be phased by it.

Like she said none of us told him to do that. That has nothing to do with us. He made that decision all on his own and could renege on it if he so chose to. Mu didn't come in her second voice drama going,

"Guard I'm really scared Haruka may hurt himself please just vote me innocent to stop him."

No she came in there and said that him telling her his plan made her happy and really feel their friendship. Then proceeded to say that was Haruka's choice, it's not like she asked him to do it, he has his own free will. It seems like the audience just agreed a little too hard and went you're right Mu that was his decision.

He didn't need to threaten himself like that. Why did Haruka put himself in this situation? Well we'll never know. So, guess it has nothing to do with you or us. Since that's the case we won't take that into consideration when it comes to your verdict.

"Oh before I forget, about Haruka Sakurai......are you sure about that “guilty” verdict? Weren’t you offered some sort of deal? I mean, not that I care. I guess that means you thought the same."

It simply doesn't matter we didn't force him to do that but he is trying to force us to vote you innocent through saying he'll do that. Something that many people may just take issue with in and of itself. Who am I to say I'm not every voter in Milgram.

Though, a good part of it could have been pushing Haruka out of a 50/50 several times and then into guilty. Like you said it's Haruka's decision that has very little to do with us. Again, it's not like we told him to do that either. I mean Mu didn't do anything to stop him right it's just like you said Mu,

"We are just the same."

"Don’t you think it’s wonderful to control them with my gentle sting."

No one made him do that. It's not the audiences fault or Mu's. He decided to make that promise and follow through on it of his own free will so sad too bad.

Mu's Second Voice Drama Queen B

12:28s I sure have understood that talking to you isn't getting me anywhere. But I guess I'll take your little explanation into consideration. "Ah- but if you don't forgive me Haruka-kun will die. So, I'd think it'd be best not to do that." ...! [Bell tolls] So you've heard about that no sense, too? "Mhm! Haruka-kun told me! So I could rest easy according to him. That made me happy. It made me really feel our friendship!" You know about it, and you're not trying to stop him? Haruka, that is? "Why would I? Haruka-kun says that's what he wants. So, there's nothing I can do, right?" But you're calling him your friend. "Isn't it exactly because he's my friend? Isn't friendship about letting your friends do the stuff they want?" ... "Are you planning to tell me 'that's not what friendship is'? Then, what is it? It's about sticking together because it's beneficial to everyone involved, isn't it?" I don't think Haruka is benefitting from that at all. "No way... It's not like you know what's good for him." ... You sure are tough to beat. "I really don't get what it is you're trying to say, Warden-san. Haruka-kun is free to decide what he wants, and I'm not doing anything wrong. It's not like I asked him to do that!

Given what transpired over the course of the intermission and all this I'd have to say Es was right with their assessment on how beneficial Mu's friendship was for Haruka. Because honestly with friends like these who needs enemies? He tells her he's going to kill himself and her first thing is it's alright because that's what you wanted to do and it will benefit me too! You're such a good friend Haruka that makes Mu so happy.

That made me happy... It made me really feel our friendship!

Even though Haruka said from the beginning of trial two he was doing well in Milgram.

22/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Haruka: Mikoto-san. Um, are you ok……? Mikoto: Ah, Haru-kun. It’s been a while since we last talked, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing ok……? Haruka: Ah, I’m fine. I’ve been enjoying myself, a lot. Um, I’m sorry, for avoiding you. I was a bit scared. Of you, honestly…… Mikoto: Ahhh, yeah. I’ve been lashing out whenever I go to sleep, right? ……it’s fine. Even I think you’re right to be scared. You know, I kinda just hate that I don’t even know what’s going on myself……haha. Ah, but despite all that you still came and talked to me because it’s my birthday, right? Thank you, you’ve grown into a good man.

He'd been enjoying himself a lot- So much so he never wanted to leave,

Q.03 Do you want to leave Milgram?

Haruka: I want to stay here forever.

He was even beginning to like himself,

Q.01  Do you love yourself?

Haruka: I think I like myself now.

He was happy in Milgram he even went as far to purport that if he was in Milgram from the start then he probably wouldn't have even wound up doing what he did.

Q.10 If you could turn back time, would you commit the same “murder”?

Haruka: I don’t know. If I was in Milgram I probably wouldn’t.

Hell, in his second trial written interrogation he flat out said he didn't want to die.

Q.17 How old do you want to live to be?

Haruka: I never thought about it. I don’t want to die.

But yeah no one else had any input when it came to this plan at all. Despite the fact that up until the end Haruka continually said he wasn't doing this for himself he was doing it for Mu's sake to protect her.

23/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Haruka: ……please, don’t tell anyone. And also, please, don’t get involved. All I can do, is ask, you……

Kotoko: ––Fufu, fufufufufu. That’s a crazy thing to be thinking. Honestly, it’s weird. But I don’t hate it. If only all the wrongdoers were like you.

Haruka: No…… that’s wrong…… That’s not, why I’m doing, this……This, isn’t for me…… I have to protect…… so, Kotoko-san…… please……

Kotoko: Eh? Ah, yeah, yeah. Well, I promise I won’t get in your way. Honestly, if I could, I’d love to do it myself, but I’ll step back this time. As for what happens next…… I wonder. It depends on Es.

Not to repent for any of his behavior, not because he felt ashamed, or unhappy at his new verdict all for Mu.

23/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, I brought your food. Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?

Haruka: ……ah, thank you very much. Mu-san. Sorry, um…… I……

Mu: You shouldn’t just lock yourself in your room all day. You have to eat your food properly. Hm, well…… I do understand why you’re feeling down. It feels bad. The atmosphere recently

Haruka: Um, I’m totally fine…… Just a bit, I’m thinking, about how to do it. What to do, what to do, to…… fulfil my promise. For Mu-san’s sake……

"So, what if she's using me. Isn't it a good thing to be used? For someone to think of me as worthy enough to use me… isn't that something to be happy about?"

He couldn't have made it clearer that he wasn't doing this because he wanted to. He was doing it because he had to.

24/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Futa: ––Hey, are you really ok with this? If you come with me, there’s a chance you can be saved too…… Haruka.

Haruka: Yeah…… I’ve made my mind up. I have, something, that I have to do.

Futa: Ah, is that right…… Haruka, you know, you’re an idiot. There’s no way…… that will save you……

Haruka: Yeah, thank you. I’m glad you came to talk to me, Futa. Um, thank you, for being so kind. Really. But, I’m sorry. This is all I’m able to do……

Literally the last time we see him he said it was something that he had to do. Literally to the one person who tried to dissuade him from doing it. Mu did nothing to try to stop him and Kotoko laughed like Christmas had come early. Kotoko's only complaint was she wanted to do it herself.

"Honestly, if I could, I’d love to do it myself."

Kotoko: Killing yourself all alone on a Friday night why not let me help with that.

Haruka: Na-no I'm alright please don't intervene.

The fact he told Kotoko not to intervene in hindsight could have been him looking for an out. Since he straight up asks Es if harming himself is against the rules of Milgram than goes and tells who is Es' helper his plan like don't interfere.

Like maybe she'd interfere because death isn't apart of Milgram's punishments and it'd be cheating my way out. Kotoko who openly wants everyone here besides her fucking dead just went,

Kotoko: Fufufu ha, ha rip evildoer would love to do it myself but I'll hold off. Really appreciating that you know how to take the trash out at least- I wish more criminals were like you. Can't wait to see this shit. Know what's almost as good as me getting to kill you myself- You being dead!

"“UNDER” Doltish “001 Parasite”."/ "So ridiculous, isn’t it ridiculous- They’re still here, still here, it grates me."

As Haruka stood there like,

Haruka: . . .

Why would she have done anything other than laugh. In hindsight this is the best birthday gift she could have gotten.

Mu on the other hand isn't Kotoko. She's someone that calls herself Haruka's friend. She's someone who continually presented herself as being useful through taking care of him by bringing him food to his room every day. Quelling the concerns of anyone who goes to ask about him by assuring them he's fine and she's taking such good care of him.

Yet she just straight up says him committing to doing that all for her really made her feel their friendship.

The cats not even in the bag she literally said the quiet part out loud when all this was going down. Before going if that's really what he wants to do who is she as his friend to stop him. Instead she should support him and his choices because that's what friends are for.

Then she did just what she said she would as his friend.

She supported him, brought him food, and made sure he had time to think over how to do it while giving telling everyone that asked not to worry Mu's taking care of him. Knowing full and well what he was planning and working on figuring out how to do the entire time. Because again he told her about it before it was even put into motion.

She constantly checked in and continued to instigate a scenario where she was one of the only people he saw or a daily basis.

All while saying shit like,

"Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?"

23/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, I brought your food. Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?

Haruka: ……ah, thank you very much. Mu-san. Sorry, um…… I……

Mu: You shouldn’t just lock yourself in your room all day. You have to eat your food properly. Hm, well…… I do understand why you’re feeling down. It feels bad. The atmosphere recently.

Haruka: Um, I’m totally fine…… Just a bit, I’m thinking, about how to do it. What to do, what to do, to…… fulfill my promise. For Mu-san’s sake……

Haruka are you still alive in there- Have you begun growing mould. You're not going to betray Mu too. Do you not care enough about Mu to keep your word now is that it? But if you don't the guard will just do worse and worse things to me. The atmosphere is already so bad too... What you do care about Mu? Well if you care prove it.

Doesn't sound like that impossible of a stretch for the girl who's first song has a chalkboard with drawings goading her victim to either kill herself or be murdered, and is shown to have placed flowers on her victim's desk to basically tell her to kill herself.

Which we know the desk with the flowers on it is her victims seat because we see Mu sitting in hers in After Pain. As well as her victim after being bullied in the classroom later with the same flowers still placed on the desk.

So it wouldn't be the first time she was implied to be attempting to goad someone into killing themselves. Or even the first time she was implied to be successful either.

At no point is she shown making one attempt to dissuade him from doing this. Not even a,

"No, don't worry about that now. The atmosphere has been bad recently right let's try to cheer up together."

Or a,

"No, I understand you're doing this for Mu's sake but honestly I'd rather you not."

Just a well don't lock yourself in your room all day you have to eat even if you are planning to end it all come on now. You can't plan on an empty stomach..

Her presence had more than likely been a constant reminder of the promise he made regardless of if he didn't want to follow through or not. Making it so he became more and more focused on how to keep his word to her instead of any other possibility. Small aside the funny thing about Mu's karaoke collaboration art is the butterfly imagery.

Something shown to be a tie between her and Haruka.

I say this is funny because butterflies are heavily associated with causality. Particularly in relation to chaos theory. Such as how the smallest act like a butterfly flapping it wings can lead to catastrophe. Mu was that butterfly for Haruka. She came gently flapping in showing interest in someone who she recognized was vulnerable and took advantage of them under the pretense of being friends.

21/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, are you awake……? Happy birthday.

Haruka: M-Mu-san? I… I-I’m awake…… Th-thank you, very much. I’m… glad……

Mu: ………… Shall we talk? You know, recently I’ve been pretty interested in you.

Haruka: ……!! I-in me…? Hehe, hehehe…… interested, in me.

Like she did to many of her so-called friends before him,

Q.18 Do you regret anything?

Mu: I think maybe I should have chosen my friends a bit more carefully.

All the other prisoners left Haruka in her care because they thought like the audience did in regards to Mahiru and Shidou that Mu was Haruka's friend. That she like the audience or more than the audience would want him to be okay. She would want to get out of this together with him and see him succeed even if that made her time a little more difficult. They thought that she would want him to keep living that if something was wrong she would tell them because she cared.

That Mu would do the the right thing because she said she was doing it, she said that's what they were, and they took her at her word

23/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Futa: Oi, you. Is he ok? He’s not even left his room lately.

Mu: You mean Haruka-kun? Hmm. Yeah, probably. I’ve been bringing all his meals to him so he should be fine. Isn’t that great of me?

Futa: Hah? Who the hell says that sort of thing about themself. ……ah, no, well, right now I understand a bit. When you’re feeling down, it’s nice to have someone who relies on you and accepts you. The rest of us can’t really understand you from where we’re standing. But well, if you’re Haruka’s “salvation” then I guess it really is great.

Mu: Salvation……? I don’t know what you mean. Futa-kun, you don’t sound like yourself. Did you hit your head or something? Oh, wait, you actually did, didn’t you. Ahaha. Ah, putting that aside though, did you know it’s my birthday today?

24/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Shidou: ……I’m worried about Sakurai-kun. I haven’t seen him around in a while. You’ve been talking with him, right?

Mu: He’s fine. Here, look. I’ve been taking his food to him like this every day. Isn’t that great of me?

Shidou: Yes, very. I’m sorry I’ve been leaving it to you to look after him. Usually, that would be the job of us adults, and yet we’re leaving you with the burden.

Mu: Don’t worry about it. After all, me and Haruka-kun are friends.

"Are you planning to tell me 'that's not what friendship is'? Then what is it? It's about sticking together because it's beneficial to everyone involved isn't it?"

And they wound up paying for it.

The fact is that Mu knew he was suicidal just as much as Es did and for just as long as Es did. She decided not tell anyone else or try to stop him. In fact, she assured everyone else he was fine. Sure, he wasn't going out much, but he's fine-

"See look Mu is taking food to him right now. Look at this nice plate she made for him. Isn't Mu a great girl, isn't Mu helping, isn't Mu useful, isn't Mu indispensable. "

Okay, but we like all asked about Haruka. We all asked how he was, and you consistently assured us he was fine.

The first person outside of Mu amongst the prisoners to find out about Haruka's plan was Kotoko. And, well, we all saw how that went. He told her that he was going to cause harm to himself and she laughed in his face. She was delighted at the information the only downside was since he was taking himself out she couldn't do it. If only more criminals were like him though that'd be good.

After that no one else even cared enough to check in on him outside of Futa repeatedly, and Shidou once probably long after Haruka had already done it. You know who was there long before anyone else, who he viewed as a mother, someone who could have given him alternatives, told him what to do, and he would have listened to. Someone who could have done all that as his friend and just as a person who cared about his mental and physical wellbeing. Or just as a person who didn't want to watch someone die right in front of them if they could help it. In the ways she pretended to care in front of the others she lives with?

Mu.

Why the fuck would Kotoko care? It makes sense for her to find it funny, laugh, and do nothing to stop whatever plan Haruka may have had.

23/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Haruka: ……please, don’t tell anyone. And also, please, don’t get involved. All I can do, is ask, you……

Kotoko: ––Fufu, fufufufufu. That’s a crazy thing to be thinking. Honestly, it’s weird. But I don’t hate it. If only all the wrongdoers were like you.

Haruka: No…… that’s wrong…… That’s not, why I’m doing, this…… This, isn’t for me…… I have to protect…… so, Kotoko-san…… please……

Kotoko: Eh? Ah, yeah, yeah. Well, I promise I won’t get in your way. Honestly, if I could, I’d love to do it myself, but I’ll step back this time. As for what happens next…… I wonder. It depends on Es.

She's Kotoko! Again- Her entire second song is going I fucking hate all these other people being here. Come on?

"They're still here, still here, it grates me."

And her first one has this in it,

"The normalcy sought for, fading away- Every time death comes the soul moves forward."/ "Laugh and I can get to like myself.'

"––Fufu, fufufufufu. That’s a crazy thing to be thinking. Honestly, it’s weird. But I don’t hate it. If only all the wrongdoers were like you."

At that point, by some sick form of coincidence, he's doing her a favor too without even recognizing it. Like she has no solid character motivation to give a fuck or lift a finger to stop him and every character motivation not to. She is the worst person he could have told about this. She's is popping the biggest bottles in her cell after this conversation.

But you know who has it the roughest? Futa. Not only had he been going out of his way to check on Haruka. If the last time we saw Haruka is also the day he died then Haruka just killed himself straight up on Futa's fucking birthday.

And the last conversation Futa had with him after being concerned and trusting in Mu was him begging the guy in frustration to do anything else.

24/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Futa: ––Hey, are you really ok with this? If you come with me, there’s a chance you can be saved too…… Haruka.

Haruka: Yeah…… I’ve made my mind up. I have, something, that I have to do.

Futa: Ah, is that right…… Haruka, you know, you’re an idiot. There’s no way…… that will save you……

Haruka: Yeah, thank you. I’m glad you came to talk to me, Futa. Um, thank you, for being so kind. Really. But, I’m sorry. This is all I’m able to do……

He got past Mu, came into Haruka's room, probably saw what Haruka had come up with to do it and then literally went you can just come with me, you can be saved too. You don't have to do this there are options I'm listing them- He starts this giving alternatives. He's trying and it becomes clearer and clearer Haruka just isn't going to listen to him.

There's nothing he can say. He can't do anything either.

He can't restrain Haruka. Like many thought he'd be restrained after his second trial Guilty verdict. Stating that if we just voted Haruka Guilty he'd be restrained, unable to harm himself, and then we'd be able to vote Mu however we wanted with that threat no longer above our heads. Because he'd be restrained he wouldn't be able to harm himself.

Futa couldn't just tie Haruka's restraints around him all by himself and lock him in his cell until the guard woke up. Like Es Futa is smaller than Haruka while not being protected by the same measures Es is. So, he wasn't gonna throw hands with him and win that's for sure.

5'4 Futa was not winning a fight against I can kill anything smaller than me 5'7 Haruka. Yet he tried and what can you really say when you go in and check on someone you've been living with for years after months of attempting to while being told they're fine by the person closest to them who you believed then you see the state they're in and hear the plan they have to end themselves.

In the moment we didn't know what Haruka was going to do.

We don't have a tone when it comes to the timelines. But now in hindsight how gut wrenching this must have been. How upset he must have sounded. How defeated his name calling must have sounded to Haruka.

This is the difference in tone between The Last Goodbye and Space Was So Cool with hindsight. If you now ya know.

This is the sort of angst one can only feel in hindsight. It is ridiculous how hard this timeline goes now. No one can imagine being in the situation Futa was fucking in here. Seeing someone you know unraveled to the extent Haruka was where he could see no other option forward but this.

To know that whatever you say won't be heard to know that you don't even have the power to stop them.

How defeated and useless he must have felt. How absolutely helpless he must have felt during this. Standing there knowing if he could just get him out of this room, if he could just convince him to go somewhere else for even a second things could have been different now. Wondering all at once what if I came in here back then instead of just asking Mu about him, what if I stepped in earlier, what if I checked in more would I have been able to stop this.

To recognize how unhelpful what Haruka was choosing to do was for him. How it was a disservice to Haruka's very own personhood. How this wouldn't save him. All while having no power to convince him not to do it. Nobody understands how heartbreaking that could have been for him. After getting to know this dude and living with him for several years. After saying he didn't have the luxury to care about others and he wasn't a kid anyway then going right back to showing concern because that's how much he actually cared.

Despite us never seeing Haruka do the same thing for him when he was Guilty.

You're telling me no one is seeing how tragic this shit is. No one. This is an angst goldmine. I don't go in the tag so maybe there's a fucking avalanche of angst art on this timeline now. All of Futa pleading with him to just leave just get out of there and try something else be saved another way then devolving into calling him stupid in tears because it's the only recourse he has.

He can't stop him.

He can only say childish insults because how else is he going to know how stupid this all is. Then Haruka's I know and thank you for being so kind after how everyone else responded to Haruka's plan.

IT JUST HITS DIFFERENT NOW OKAY!

It hits different and doesn't deserve to hit this different but it fucking does okay. It just fucking does. Can you imagine the anguish? Because I can. It's ridiculous.

Sure he may not have been broken up about it. Maybe we'll find out later he wasn't and he didn't try to stop him at all. Yet, he's the only one who offered any other alternative. Any out. He was the only one he said not only through his words but actions don't do this.

He may have been leveled about the situation but the range of emotion that can be gleaned from this timeline now. Knowing what we know now- Is amazing! It's impressive. It is a literal playground of emotional depth.

No matter what parts of the story you touch on in hindsight it just gets more compelling.

Like that's nasty (positive connotation here)- Yamanaka was on some shit writing and making this. That's fucked up on his birthday. Futa's birthday?! He has to think about this every birthday now. Just thinking back on the dynamics between all of the characters mentioned here and how they grew over the course of these trials along with the ways they ended.

Haruka going from not even being able to speak to Kotoko to confiding in her.

Futa going from wanting to look out for Haruka and Mikoto to in a way losing both of them. Having to wonder if that concern is still there now after everything with Haruka.

Mu going from barely talking to Haruka to being the person closest to him and a driving force in some of the biggest choices he made. It's all really impressive character work. That will only get easier to appreciate the series progresses and after it ends.

[the-morningstar-family]

I mean, mental health in general was treated VERY different when Alastor was alive

Alastor is cooking lunch, a go to relaxation method. It gives him something to do with the hands, and something for the mind to focus on. A wonderful occupation, really. The radio is playing, of course, and Keekee is walking between his legs. She hops on the counter, slightly pulling the plug of the electric kettle.

Alastor: “Dear, how often do I have to tell you that you don't belong on the countertop?”

He plugs her down, ignoring her protests. The tranquility only interrupted by the golden glow of a portal that suddenly opens in front of him.

Lucifer: “Alastor! I've done some research!”

Lucifer waves a book around, "One Hundred Years of Psychoanalysis: A Timeline of Thought and Theorists”. The small king is bouncing in excitement, which the deer finds cute, if only it wasn't about… that.

Lucifer: “Maybe with this we'll figure out what happened!”

Alastor: “Why are you assuming something did happen? Am I giving you any indication that I am suffering from dementia?”

Lucifer: “Pfff. No, your memory can be scarily good sometimes.”

Alastor: “Then let this go! How can I have such an excellent memory, and then just forget about a formative event, if it is oh so bad.”

Lucifer: “Between forgetting and repression is a world of difference, Hun”

The demon puts the knife down, to fully turn to the angel.

Alastor: “Fine. Say I have such a memory. Do you expect me to show me a picture and I'll magically remember?”

Lucifer, mumbling: “Not magically…”

Alastor: “Mh?”

Lucifer: “Well, sometimes pictures or descriptions cause people to remember. Especially if they've been confronted”

Alastor: “Right. And suppose if I have this memory, and I do remember, why should I want to if it was a completely negative experience?”

Lucifer: “To work through it!”

A grimace graces Alastor's face, and he continues to cut his vegetables.

Alastor: “We have enough work on our hands. What makes you think -”

Lucifer: “Alastor! The plug!”

But it's too late, the deer has already grazed it. A small shock transfers to Alastor's hand. It's nothing much. Just a small current. A little tingle but nothing more. Alastor, however, freezes. Staring into nothing.

Lucifer: “Alastor? Are you okay?”

He gets no answer. Only the rising and falling of his partner's chest.

Lucifer: “Al, common. Say something”

Even at the soft touch of Lucifer's hands, the demon doesn't react. He is just still, like a statue. Except… a little tear rolls down his cheek. Only one.

Lucifer: “Al?”

This time he finally, finally, reacts. Blinking, dazed around the room. Until landing on the king. Then his eyes close, the expression shifts and when his eyes are open again - it looks like nothing has happened.

Lucifer: “Are you good? What was that?”

Alastor: “Whatever do you mean? It was a small electric shock. Not even enough to frizzle hair.”

Lucifer: “You just spaced out for a solid forty seconds”

Alastor: “Don't be so dramatic, dear, I was caught by surprise, it was a second at most.”

The king stares. Al isn't playing it down, he is not lying. He simply doesn't know. The king quickly attaches himself to the deer like a needy coala to eucalyptus trees.

Alastor: “Lucifer!”

He says startled, but his demeanour is quickly softened.

Alastor: “You ridiculous little thing. You worry too much about this”

Lucifer: “let me fuss about you”

Alastor, rolling his eyes: “If you must”