#i appreciate her being mindful and changing 'ugly' to 'not normal'

[just-miru]

my mother going from "you should wax your unibrow off because it's ugly" to "you should wax it off because it's not normal"

...

[nightmare-niko]

Routines In The Night [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Warnings: alcohol consumption, vague-ish descriptions of clubbing, raw sex (don't do that), completely self-indulgent

A/n: i am just a girl and i cannot help the things my mind comes up with. also this is my first actual smut in years so lmk how I did hehehe

Word count: 2273

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

It's been quite a long time since you went out with your friends. Life gets in the way sometimes! But tonight, the stars have aligned, and all of your schedules lined up perfectly. You don’t remember being this excited to see your friends, but now you all were in your apartment getting ready for your night out.

"So I don’t know when the boys are gonna get here-“ your best friend; Violet sits on your bedroom floor, curling her hair. “But I think Evan said something about bringing a new friend?”

“Violet you can't just let strangers hang with us! What if he's a weirdo?!" You’re mostly joking. You knew your friends. Realistically you had nothing to worry about.

“What if he’s ugly?” your other Friend interjects.

“Oh my god! Hayley!” Violet chokes out a surprised laugh.

“What it’s a valid question!” She defends.

"I'm sure he will be completely normal." You try to expel the chaos beginning to build throughout your small apartment while the three of you continue to get ready.

•

An excessive amount of knocks on your door makes you jump.

You grumble obscenities on the way to open your door. "You know Evan- You don't have to—“ you stop in your tracks. Sure, there was Evan and your other friend Mike, but there was also a new guy—a beautiful guy. Was it suddenly getting hot in here??

"Oh okay drool much?" Evan jokes and you snap out of your man-induced trance.

“Hi, I'm Nick" he offers his hand for you to shake.

Your hand is quite small compared to his, but unlike most guys you’ve met, his hand is gentle. He certainly isn't trying to crush your hand (why do guys do that?). As the other guys walk into your apartment, Nicholas stays in your doorway with you as you introduce yourself,

“Come in! You have to meet the others!" You take his hand and lead him into your living room.

•

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the lights pulsed and changed erratically. You danced along to whatever generic set the DJ played, you honestly were too drunk to care. This is what you needed. While you and your girls danced carelessly with each other, the guys stayed back at your table.

All of them seemed pretty caught up in their drunken conversations. Not Nicholas though, no. His eyes had been on you the second you clambered onto the dance floor. You loved it.

You felt Violet's arm wrap around your waist, "are you gonna deal with that? " She borderline shouts in your ear to combat the loud music. "Who? Pretty boy over there?" You lock eyes with Nick across the room, he quickly looks away—taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe... you think you can get Hayley distracted so I can lure him ?"

She giggles and pulls away; you don't care how Violet was planning on making distance-- but you trusted her. With a sensual sway of your hips, you walk over to Nicholas. None of your other friends seem to notice your presence, not that you mind though.

"So, you gonna keep on staring or are you gonna dance with me?"

The man before you smirks, he takes you in quickly, "How about both?" He offers his hand to you. You take it gratuitously, even in your heels he had height over you. It was hot. Maybe it was the lights or the alcohol in your system-- or maybe both, but you had to have him.

To say the two of you were dancing was a stretch, to say the least… You wrap your arms around his neck, you were so not remembering this tomorrow at the rate you were going.

“How long were you going to sit there staring at me for?” Your question was light-hearted at best.

"Until I was blackout probably," He laughs shyly.

You laugh along with him, grinding along to the beat of the music, you could live this moment forever. "Usually everyone comes back to mine and sleeps over after clubbing. You down?”

He smiles, "Sure, why not.”

•

Somehow you managed to get all of your drunk friends back to your home safely. Now all you had to do was (try to) relax, you sneak away from all of your friends and into your bedroom.

It took you longer than usual to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas due to the drinks you had tonight, but you managed.

What time was it? You didn't know, your phone was dead!

Back in your living room, your friends lay sleeping (?) scattered around Violet and Hayley both still in their makeup and heels. You didn't dare wake them, they knew where your makeup wipes and extra clothes were. All you needed was your bed.

•

4 am. It was 4 am and you were wide awake. Wide awake with a raging headache, that is. You groan before tugging off your oh-so-comfortable blanket. The hardwood floors were cold against your bare feet-but you didn't care.

Stumbling to the kitchen through the darkness of your home was a situation you found yourself often, but now you had the added addition of staying quiet. The last thing you needed was more hungover zombies.

The moonlight from your open windows lit up your kitchen counter just enough for you to grab the nearest pain relief medicine and a drink in peace. Now here came the hard part-- walking back in the dark. Why didn't you bring your phone?!

The door of the bathroom swings open-- you gasp dramatically. "Jesus Nick! You fucking scared me,” you whisper yell at the taller man.

"Sorry! I had to— uh I didn't think anyone was awake." He flicks off the light and steps closer to you.

The moonlight paints across Nicholas’ face in a way that has you speechless. "Well, uhm-are you -" You stumble over your words. "Do you need anything? A blanket? Water? I can see if there are sweatpants you can wear."

For a moment you think he's going to decline your offer-- “Actually, a blanket and sweats would be awesome… If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all-- Here follow me.” You continue your path to your bedroom, only this time with the hottest man you've ever seen trailing behind you.

Inviting him into your room! What if he gets the wrong idea? (Is it the wrong idea if you really do wanna fuck?) "Sorry for the mess... You can sit on my bed while I look." You awkwardly point at your bed as if its location wasn't obvious. "It's cute in here, very cozy." Nicholas takes in his surroundings— trying and failing to distract himself from your extremely short pajama shorts. "Thanks, here." You hand him some clothes leftover from friends, "Hope they fit." You hear him mutter a thanks before you go back to searching for a blanket. Why is he being so quiet? When you look over at him, he's staring: again. You bite back a laugh.

”You have quite the staring problem, you know?” You tease. He smiles something wicked, his dark brown eyes dark with want. Why stare when you can just shoot your shot?”

He throws his hands up in defense, "I mean hey, I made it this far!”

“Oh yeah- "You remark sarcastically, "Remind me what base ‘sitting on a hot girl's bed and staring at her ass’ is again?"

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it?" He stands up and takes one big step towards you

“That's how we're playing it.” You tease, standing up on your tippy toes to drape your arms over his shoulders.

His large hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. He hums in acknowledgment of your teasing. He was hard, you could feel him through his jeans.

How did you get into this situation? Were you complaining though?

No, not at alt. Nicholas' large hand cups your face sensually.

The Kiss was electric, not rough, but dominant. You didn't have the energy to fight for control, you just wanted him. Dazed, you pull back from the kiss. "I can't focus with you pressed against me like that." Your hands shoot from his neck to his belt buckle. “Bed, now." You demand, he quickly clambered onto your bed.

You pull his pants down to his ankles, and Nicholas kicks them the rest of the way down. Your heart racing as you follow him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as you leaned in for another heated kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas whispered against your lips.

"Absolutely," you run your hands down his chest.

As things heated up between you two, a sudden noise from the living room made you both freeze. You remembered your friends sleeping just outside your bedroom door.

"We should keep it down," you giggled softly, pressing a finger to Nicholas' lips.

He nodded— a mischievous glint in his eyes. He presses a quick kiss into your lip and flips you onto your back. You find your eyes drifting down his torso, his cock tented in his boxers. You snap your eyes back up to his, the air thick with tension.

“Kiss me,” you beg, and he listens immediately. you tug on his bottom lip and he groans lowly. the position you were in made it impossible for you to not cross your ankles behind his back, pushing him against your throbbing core. You whimper, almost pathetic, but you couldn't care less about that right now.

You whine again, this time a desperate plea for more. “Mmm… Nick—please~” You beg against his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands. You whine again as his lip trail kisses along your neck, leaving marks at the base.

“More~” you manage to joke out.

“What do you want, beautiful? All you need to do is say it and I'll give it to you.” His voice is sultry against your ear, his breath leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Clothes. off,” you demand.

You hear him chuckle sensually, as he leans back on his haunches. You swear all time freezes as you watch Nicholas take off his shirt. He was already the most attractive person on the planet with his pants off, and now here he was. Towering over you in his underwear, while you still had all of your clothes on. That had to change, sit up briefly as Nicholas helps you take off your sleep shirt.

Nicholas kisses you again, pushing you back down onto your plush pillows. In the heat of your kiss, Nicholas takes off your sleep shorts and leans back— he groans at the sight before him.

“look at you~” he tuts, “all fucked out and I haven't even touched you yet.”

“Nick, please-” you whine, bucking your hips in the air, desperate for any kind of friction. “Don't tease!”

finally, Nicholas stands up from your bed. Pulling his boxers down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. The tip is red and angry— leaking with precum. your mouth watered just at the sight.

he climbs back over you and back in between your thighs. his hungry eyes, fixed on your core as he runs his tip over your clothed clit. you whimper again— just as you're about to open your mouth to complain, he pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you in one motion.

You bite down on your lip to try to conceal your moan but the noise that you make is still extremely loud. the stretch burned, but god it felt heavenly. Nicholas clashes his mouth back onto yours at an attempt to hush your sounds— not that he wanted to. He wanted the whole city to hear you, but all of your friends were in the next room and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.

The steady rock of his hips has you barreling quickly towards your orgasm. The kiss is sloppy and rough— you couldn't think of a better thing to be doing at 5 am. He trails wet kisses to the sweet spot below your ear, then to your neck and collarbone.

With one hand tightly gripped on your hip, he was close. You knew because his thrusts were getting sloppier and rougher. With one final bite of the base of your neck, he sits up— free hand rubbing circles on your clit as the new angle had him hitting right you needed him.

Your back arches off of your bed in a dramatic display as your orgasm takes over you— you swear you blacked out for a moment. Nick pulls out of you in a hurry, white ropes of cum paint your torso and face and he groans gutturally.

the once cold air in your bedroom was now hot. the only sound was the combined sounds of you and Nicholas trying to catch your breath. sleep takes over you as you feel Nick wiping the cum off you with whatever was nearby.

"So," Nicholas whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "does this mean I get stay here tonight?" he brought a clean blanket over your naked bodies.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If that's not what that means I have no idea what does."

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya

@lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

[irondadfics]

Hello! I was wondering if anyone knows any fics of Peter being a bit of a dick? I love the stories where he is rude to people, normally as a way to push them away so they can’t see how bad his life is. Any examples of rude/sassy Peter would be greatly appreciated!

here are some for you! Happy reading

Wake up and smell the coffee by Bergen

The Avengers find themselves in need of Spider-Man’s help to improve their reputation. Peter Parker, however, doesn't exactly have the best reputation: he has been dabbling in a life of crime. Tony really doesn't care about picking up after some degenerate teen. Peter really doesn't care about some dumb adults telling him what to do. And nothing will ever, ever change their minds.

100 Hours (Community Service is for the Turtles) by orphan_account

“Hey there, Parker. I’ve got some exciting news about your community service sentencing,” the bright voice from the other line says. "It looks like you've been reassigned." “Oh, yeah?” Peter asks, warily. His social worker sounds excited, but he's been burned a few too many times to take any "good news" at face value. Peter listens to her explain with a furrowed brow, and when the call is over, he opens the web browser on his cracked Android and quickly types the words september foundation into the search bar. His eyes narrow as he peruses the top result. Oh, he is going to kill that Stark bastard. - All Peter Parker wants to do is fly under the radar. He wants to go to school, work off his sentence by picking up trash at the stupid park, and avoid going home for as long as possible each night. Unfortunately for him, Tony Stark has never been one to see untapped potential and not do something about it.

The seventh escape by Bergen

Tony and Pepper snatched Peter up only a few weeks after the first Spider-Man video went viral. Real fucking coincidence, right? Suddenly, Tony Stark rocked right up at his group home, strewing business cards around like he was Oprah. If Oprah were an ugly white dude with a goatee. “Big fan,” he told Peter, fasting forward through a video of Spider-Man catching a bus before it crashed through a road block. “In and out of foster care your whole life, am I right? I believe my wife and I could provide a very fitting home for you.” “Pass,” Peter said.

Paradigm shift by Bergen

Peter got a Stark phone when he was ten. Adrian took him to a big store with lots of TV screens that all played the same video of Tony Stark declaring to the world that he was Iron Man. They ducked behind the microwaves, both of them giggling as Adrian stuffed the phone under Peter’s sweater. They walked right out the door without tripping the alarm, and Adrian bought him ice cream to celebrate. — After his parents die, Peter is taken in by the Toomes family. Things slowly, then quickly spiral out of control. All Adrian wants is to take revenge on Tony Stark. All Peter wants is to do the right thing. Why is that so much harder than expected?

the long game by niniblack

“Your prints were a match for a missing persons case from ten years ago. A little boy who was kidnapped.” The officer pulls out a picture that she turns toward Peter. It’s a little boy around four years old, with curly brown hair. “That’s you,” she says. Peter shakes his head. “Do you remember how you got to that park? Who left you there?” “Lady, I don’t remember jack shit,” Peter says. “I was like four. No one remembers shit from when they were four.” --- Or: the biodad au where Peter gets arrested for selling drugs, and that actually improves his life.

[herefortheships]

I looooved Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, and I absolutely adore how much Beetlejuice swoons over Lydia at times, (blowing kisses and dancing with her in the air) however, I’m not exactly sure WHY he fell in love with her? Is it because when they talked the first time he felt sympathetic towards her feelings of loneliness? Is it because she is different than others for her tastes and interests? Is it her bravery, (as she is not scared as him as normal people are, didn’t even faint when he did his scary face! I think she’s more wary of his powers and potential danger) is it her kindness and patience towards others? (Like dealing with Rory?) I wanna know your opinion!

I probably answered a similar question already, but I can talk about this all the time (and who knows if my thoughts have changed and maybe I say something different lol). I so love to muse over this one 💜✨.

Headcanons ahead! There is also this post I talked about this topic (probably rambled way too much in that one lol).

I just want to center this post on which qualities I personally think made Betelgeuse fall in love with Lydia, not necessarily the how or when it happened.

Truly the first thing Betelgeuse noticed about Lydia was her dark and mysterious looks. He's attracted to dark, goth ladies as evidenced by Delores, and here came this beautiful young woman, all dressed in black, with dark hair and mysterious eyes which carried a tangible loneliness in them he probably identified with. He was intrigued.

But it wasn't her beauty, what captured and secured his affection.

There is something that Lydia has that Delores never had, and that something started piercing through his heart, making him fall in love. Lydia is gentle and kind; she's a caring soul, willing to make a sacrifice for those she loves. She may be a dark and mysterious lady, but she has a big, caring heart. And (headcanon of mine) Betelgeuse, who has always desired a loving relationship, was attracted to the warmth of that heart like a moth to the light.

Lydia knows she's strange and unusual, and she doesn't mind things that are strange and unusual. She doesn't mind ugly and scary things; where others would turn away in disgust, Lydia would look with curiosity and without judgement. And she's sweet and innocent, despite her dark, gothic looks.

She had just the heart to take him in and allow him to experience that love he's craved for so long.

As an adult, Lydia is demure and sensible--perhaps a little too much, which makes Betelgeuse want to show up in her life and protect her (example, protecting her from Rory and scaring the living shits out of him for being the pos he was to her).

Lydia is also brave and willing to put up a fight. In fact she was willing to protest him during their first wedding attempt. Perhaps in hundreds of years he wasn't faced with someone who was willing to fight him back or to look upon him without fear or disgust. Lydia didn't flinch at seeing him, when she first saw him in the model; she just asked him if he was a ghost, too. She didn't turn her face away with disgust or run away scared at the sight of him. I imagine he would have done things differently back in '88, if he'd have seen things more clearly.

Just being herself endeared Lydia to Betelgeuse.

And then, watching her for over 30 years, he saw her as a mom, displaying all those qualities he was always so fond of, but amplified in the love and care for her daughter 🥹. And he saw how the men in her life didn't appreciate her, too. His heart must have been breaking as he was desperate to make contact again. He couldn't manifest in the world of the living freely or appear in front of her without being summoned, so he tried and tried to get her to see him so he could make contact and maybe make her say his name. I imagine he must have wanted to break into her life and scoop her away from the undeserving men who instead of valuing her, either took her for granted or took advantage of her. He knows how special she is. He knows how her heart and her mind works. He simply loves everything about her.

Anyway I am lowkey starting to write a fanfic here, so I'll stop 😆. But these are some reasons why I think he loves her. 💚

[heliads]

Hello may i request a Thomas ( oh original ! ) the maze runner imagine ? when the reader had a childish spirit in the glade, always smiling, bubbly, friendly toward everyone. But in the scorch, she is a different person, she is more violent with words less affectionate and she is pessimistic. Thomas discover her change of personality and decide to confront her about it. Thomas and the reader are together. (Angst and fluff maybe)

Ps : HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄🎁🫶

happy belated holidays!! the true gift is thomas

masterlist

Thomas has seen a lot in the meager few months he remembers being alive. There’s the Maze, of course, the terrifying behemoth of stone and ivy enclosing life as he knew it inside massive walls. There were the Grievers, sickening creatures. Thomas can still hear the screams of his friends being torn to pieces by those beasts. There were also the graves of past Gladers who lived and died without ever escaping. He saw enough loss to know the costs of surviving.

One of the worst sights Thomas has ever experienced, however, might have to do with what living did to his friends. They’re all shell-shocked in some way; Minho laughs less, Newt’s eyes grow weary, Teresa becomes more restless by the hour, but the worst of all is Y/N. Y/N, who brightened all their days back in the Glade with her relentless optimism, who has now become some cold version of the girl they all care for. That might be the deadliest blow of all.

Thomas has always liked questions. The other Gladers could tell him that much, what from the way he used to never stop asking about the most benign details of the Maze. Thomas has never had much to hold against the truth:  as long as curiosity is his best friend, he doesn’t get stuck in that ugly, familiar pattern of giving up before answers are found.

Right now, though, Thomas thinks that he would prefer to shut his eyes again. If he blocks out the world, if he pretends that everything is fine and nothing has changed at all, maybe everything will go back to normal. Maybe he’ll wake up and Y/N will be just the same as ever.

The change happened slowly, piece by piece and fracture by fracture. The Scorch ruined them all, that much is clear, but it did something worse to Y/N. She stalks through the desert like a predator waiting to hunt, and when they face something or someone they have to fight, she becomes a person Thomas has never seen before. She loses some part of herself with every bit of danger that crosses her path. At some point, there will be nothing left, and that is what scares Thomas the most.

She wasn’t always like this. Thomas only had a brief period in the Glade before things turned sour, or at least more sour than life trapped within the stone walls of the Maze with no memories save his own name. In that short time, though, Thomas met Y/N, and he liked what he saw enough to fall in love.

It was easy, falling. Easier than breathing. Easier than dying. She laughed, and the world laughed with her. Thomas watched as Runners dragged themselves out of the Maze, burned out on what their meager lives had to offer, but one conversation with Y/N had them smiling like nothing was the matter. She was the only one who could talk Gally out of a foul temper every time he wanted to start a fight. Well, every time but one, down in the depths of the ruined W.I.C.K.E.D. structure, but no one likes to think about that.

Even Thomas, terrified out of his mind that nothing made sense when he was certain that it should, wasn’t immune to Y/N’s optimism. He remembers sitting with her out on the grass, watching the sun set. There were moments on Bonfire Night when he knew he would give her the world, and early mornings just before he set out for the Maze in which one look her way gave Thomas the courage of thousands of men.

It was good back then, and Thomas wishes he had the hindsight to appreciate that before they escaped. Something happened in between their journey out of the Maze and the present day, something to turn Y/N’s ever-present grin into a deadly glare. She doesn’t smile like she used to, she doesn’t smile at all. It’s rare that she’ll speak more than a few words at a time, and those are always tinged with a foreign cruelty.

Thomas has racked his brain about a thousand times, searching for clues he never picked up to explain the change in Y/N’s behavior. Every time, though, he comes up short. If Grievers and memory loss couldn’t shake her, why this? What do the shifting sands of the Scorch hold to torment her so?

He still holds out hope that maybe they’ll make it to a safe place and Y/N’s fierce temper will leave her. One day far in the future, Thomas could wake up to her laughing just like before. It could be alright. The others have given up on that, but Thomas holds on.

Then again, the others don’t share in the love that Thomas feels for Y/N, so maybe that explains it. He’s heard the Gladers murmuring when Y/N isn’t around, shunning her cold eyes and curled fists. Thomas wants to defend her, but he gets the feeling that she almost enjoys her new reputation, using it as a shield to block out the rest of the world. If her friends can’t stand her, then surely her enemies will all but run the other way.

They need to count on her loyalty, though, and given all the changes to Y/N’s character, Thomas knows the others doubt even that. There is no time for second guessing friends turned into foes, there are already far more villains than anyone could ever need.

The small, struggling group of Gladers has to pass through a section of a Flare-ravaged city. Skyscrapers that must have been impressive once upon a time are broken and bloodied by rust now, bits and pieces disappearing by the day. The metal has lost its shine, the glass stripped of all but its ability to cut through flesh like butter. Everywhere Thomas looks, he sees places where maniacs could hide, or sharp chunks of debris that could be used as weapons. 

It’s not on his bucket list of dream destinations, to say the least, but they have no other choice. Circumnavigating this broken metropolis would take them days they don’t have. If they don’t reach the hideout of the Right Arm in time, they’ll all die in this godforsaken desert. The Gladers can risk a few Crank attacks if it means making it to a source of potential allies.

That’s what they tell themselves, at least. Still, Thomas doesn’t miss the way the group draws into itself, shoulders brushing against shoulders as they pretend they’re not half so scared as they actually are. Every time the wind whips around a desiccating office building, sending rivets and bolts scurrying down the road, everyone jumps about a foot.

One uneasy night and day later, they’re almost out. Thomas has just started to formulate the trembling hope that they might be able to pass through without incident when he starts seeing things out of the corners of his eyes. Shadowy creatures jump back into obscurity whenever he cranes his head for a better look, but the second Thomas redirects his gaze towards the road ahead, they creep back out again.

The others see it too, Thomas can tell. They all shift closer and closer together until they’re practically walking into each other with every step. Still, it’s better than the alternative. Somehow, he gets the feeling that naming those silhouettes aloud would finally allow them to charge.

Even with the maintained silence, the figures in the shadows don’t care much for inactivity. The bounds of the city are just in sight when the shapes start making noise. The streets echo with it, a cacophony of clicks and jeers, howls and coughs. The unearthly symphony makes Thomas shudder, cold slicking over his spine like fingers made of ice.

Thomas just has enough time to think that it sounds like a war cry when the silhouettes give up their lurking and pounce. Cranks appear out of nowhere, sprinting towards the Gladers with all the speed that complete and utter insanity gives you. Thomas sees some figures so damaged by time and the elements that bones poke out of their legs, but they still run like they’re competing for a national title.

Minho shouts for everyone to go, go, but it’s not like anyone wants to stick around. The Gladers hurl themselves towards the city limits; most Cranks are territorial, they give up the chase once prey heads further into the desert. That’ll be their only hope. Thomas picks up the rear, dragging friends forward when they stumble and praying that they all make it.

This side of the city is surrounded by a low wall, most likely to keep Cranks out. Now it just serves to keep sane humans in. Minho turns towards a section that’s started to crumble and jumps up with ease, perching on top to start hauling people over. It’s slow going, though, and the Cranks aren’t giving up their chase.

Thomas picks up a fallen piece of metal scaffolding by his side, swinging it experimentally like a baseball bat before turning to face the oncoming mass of Cranks. The first few go down easily, but the numbers aren’t in his favor. Someone joins the fight on his side, thankfully, and Thomas dodges a blow before turning to see who’s sticking their neck out to keep the creatures at bay.

To his surprise, it’s Y/N. She faces down the Cranks, expression grim but determined. She also wields a chunk of debris, and Thomas watches as she impales a nearby Crank before finding another victim. Thomas has a vague, fleeting memory of Winston joking about how Y/N always got totally grossed out by the amount of blood the Slicers had to deal with. Now, she’s chopping through Cranks like they were those same farm animals doomed to the blade.

Minho shouts to the two of them, and they abandon the fight to scale the wall as well. Once in the desert, the Gladers continue running, but they slow down once it’s clear that the Cranks won’t be following. Hands on his knees, Thomas catches his breath. He looks over at Y/N, searching her face for some sign of kindness. After all, she just risked herself to protect him against those Cranks.

All he sees, though, is that same blank pessimism that’s come to haunt him. Y/N catches him looking and eyes him coolly for a moment before deciding that even the endless sands hold better entertainment and turning away. Thomas is left to wonder why she would care enough to save his life but not enough to reward him with a smile.

Dusk rushes upon the land, making further travel impossible. The city had been in their way, and now they’ll need the light of morning to illuminate where they should travel next. There are a few buildings past the wall, twisting remnants of the city. Thomas recommends that they stay the night in that shelter, as it’s the best they’ll get for a while. Even after he closes his eyes, Thomas swears he can still feel the shadow of the infected city looming over him, practically breathing down his back.

It makes sleep impossible, to say the least. Eventually, Thomas gives up on fidgeting from side to side in the hopes of unconsciousness and quietly gets up, retreating to another hall in their temporary hideout to refrain from waking the others. His pulse skyrockets when he hears a noise, but he’s able to settle once it grows obvious that the source is not a Crank but another Glader. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one unable to fall asleep.

Thomas draws closer to the source of the sound. He heads into a nearby room and spots a silhouette crouching in the corner. A broken out window lets moonlight race through the cracks and towards the other occupant. Thomas blinks, and he realizes it’s Y/N. Y/N is not doing well, though. Something is wrong. The tones of her skin are different, darker in places than expected.

It’s hard to see, what with the shadows still pressing ominously around everything, but Thomas thinks– yes, it is, that’s blood covering almost half of her body. The scarlet stuff is practically painted on her, palms up to the elbows, dotting her face like gruesome freckles. He realizes that she must have gone back to the city and rid it of its mad occupants once and for all.

Y/N is staring back at him now, daring him to say something. Thomas swallows hard and tries not to sound too horrified. It’s not an easy task.

“I’m not sure it’s the best thing to be so covered in Crank blood,” he manages to choke out at last.

Y/N just laughs. It’s a bitter, harsh sound, and it reminds him a little too much of the shrieks and giggles of the infected. “I’m immune, Thomas, it doesn’t matter. They can’t do anything to me but die.”

“Still,” Thomas begins, but his courage fractures. Still, she shouldn’t tempt fate by being so careless around potential pathogens. Still, she shouldn’t be this far removed from someone Thomas knew without even falling victim to the Flare.

Y/N stands slowly, and it takes everything in him for Thomas to not flinch. “Go ahead, judge me. Say what you want. I know you and the rest have been too afraid to mention it to my face, but you can’t keep it back forever. You hate me. You’re scared of me. Just say it.”

Thomas shakes his head. “I’m not scared of you. I just miss you.”

Y/N spreads her arms. The gesture is meant to be welcoming, but Thomas can’t stop staring at the blood dried across her skin. “I’m right here, Thomas. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“You have,” he whispers back, “the girl I met back in the Glade, she’s gone. I think you left her there. I don’t know who you are anymore, but she’s not my friend.”

Y/N draws back as if slapped. “I’m still me. You might not like it, but I’m me. I changed to survive. We all did. It’s not my fault if you want to keep clinging to an illusion. This is who I have to be if I want to live.”

“And what about the inhabitants of that city?” Thomas asks pointedly, “Didn’t they want to live?”

Y/N gives him a cross look. “They wanted to live before they became Cranks. I’m making sure people who come after us will find a safe place to hide from everyone else. You can go on believing in fairytales, but at least one of us had to grow up. Maybe it had to be me.”

Thomas sighs, the ghost of the sound circling the two of them on disappointed, broken wings. “I don’t want to believe in fairytales, Y/N. I just want to believe in you.”

“Then do it,” she says softly.

“I wish I could,” Thomas replies.

It’s quiet for a minute. Thomas thinks she might hate him. Then, her voice comes again, barely discernible in the darkened room.

“Did you love me?” A pause. “Back in the Glade. Did you love me then?”

Thomas’ throat feels tight. “I loved you then, and I love you now. I just need to know that you’re not going to leave.”

“Not more than I have, you mean,” Y/N corrects.

“Yes.” Thomas puts it plainly.

They both know what it means, how far Y/N has gone from the girl he once knew. For once, though, Thomas thinks that he might have made some headway in correcting her course.

Y/N stares at her hands, starting to rub them together as if trying to wash the red from her skin. “I can’t get it out. The blood.”

“I’ll help you clean it,” Thomas answers her unspoken plea, “I’ll help you today, and every other day after that. You just have to let me do it.”

Y/N looks up at him now, and seems to question something before nodding at last. “I will.”

It’s as close as she’ll get to an apology for now. Maybe later, once the dangers settle, they’ll have a better ending. Thomas is happy with this, though. In a world such as theirs, it’s all they can ask for. They can try again.

requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[ambroziadelphine]

My Personal Addiction (Geto Suguru x Reader) Chapter 4

Masterlist

Geto decided to walk me back to my dorm, wanting to ensure I didn't get lost in the maze like hallways. I was thankful I had packed a bag with a change of clothes, Shoko said she'd get me a spare uniform for tomorrow which I profusely thanked her for. I couldn't wait to sleep. It was quiet between us when I noticed Geto glancing at me from the corner of his eye making me sigh.

"I thought we already talked about the staring." I said, a small smile on my face as he averted his gaze, his ears pink making me chuckle slightly. "If you want to ask me something, you can." I said, clasping my hands behind my back as we walked. He was quiet before he glanced at me and sighed.

"Forgive me if this is an ignorant question, but why is being a child of divorce so bad?" He asked after a moment. I was quiet before I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed.

"Its not just being a child of divorce that's the problem." I said, putting my hands in my pockets as I looked at my shoes. "My family situation is.. complicated, to say the least. I've never had what you could call a 'normal family'. It was always just me and my mother, but most of the time it just felt like me. She wasn't exactly a good mother." I said, glancing up to see his sympathetic look.

"I can see why that would make you not want to go back there." He said quietly just as we reached my room and we stopped outside it. "I'm sorry for bringing it up. Divorce isn't exactly a common practice here from what I've seen." He said but I just shook my head.

"Don't worry about it. I understand some people may not realize how messy divorce can be for a child, or how ugly it can be in general. I was kind of lucky I was an only child though, I suppose." I said, looking out the window at the darkening sky.

"What do you mean?" He asked, I took a deep breath through my nose and looked at him.

"Because I wouldn't wish any other child to go through what I did." I said quietly, looking away as I saw the concern creeping into his face.

"Evee, are you going to be okay tonight?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared down at me. I looked up at him with a small appreciative smile and nodded, knowing I wouldn't do anything. I've got people to save and shit to do here, I'm not wasting this chance to actually make something of my life.

"I'll probably just get my headphones and listen to music until I fall asleep." I said before a thought came to mind and I sighed. "Damn, just realized almost none of the music I like is around in this decade. Guess its a good thing I have my phone then." I said, chuckling as he did too, though he still held that concerned glint in his eyes.

"I guess you'll have to get used to things like that." He said, rubbing the back of his neck as I scoffed.

"As long as I get to hear Childish Gambino, Hozier and Conan Grey again, I'll be good." I said, he furrowed his brows at the names and I closed my eyes with a smile. "Top 3 of my favourite artists. I think Childish Gambino starts making music in 2011. I know Conan Grey and Hozier were a year apart but I can't remember which one released songs first."  I said, trying to think before Geto put a hand on my shoulders.

"I feel that's something you can figure out later." He chuckled, I blushed and looked down, embarrassed that I was rambling in front of him. "I think for now, trying to get some sleep would be in your best interest. I'm sure the higher ups will have made their decision by tomorrow." He said, my eyes looking back up at him, having to look through my lashes because of how tall he was compared to me.

"Alright, fine. I can't really argue when you could literally pick me up like a child." I said with a slight huff causing a wide grin to break out across his face as his cheeks turned pink in the dimming light.

"Kind of funny to think you're older then me, yet still so short." He said making me look at him in mock offense.

"I may be short but I bite, so I'd suggest you watch it." I said, playfully glaring at him as he laughed.

"Never had someone bite me." He said, before a small smirk came over his face as he leaned down a little, a finger on my chin to keep my gaze on him. "Who knows, maybe from you I'd like it." He said before stepping back and giving a small closed eye smile as I felt my face turn red.

"I'll let you get some sleep now. Goodnight, Evee." He said, turning around as he waved back to me, leaving me stood there in front of my door in shock before I silently walked into my room, sliding down the door immediately upon closing it as I tried not to squeal like a little fangirl. He just.. he just flirted with me. 

"Oh, why do I have to love miserable men with long dark hair so much?" I asked myself, getting up and walking over to flop down onto my bed, putting my music on shuffle as I let it quietly play throughout the room before I noticed something strange. I have Wi-fi, and my battery is full when I remember it was at like 70% when Kali and I fell. Wait, I have service too! Maybe I can call her? I quickly went to my contacts and pressed her name, hearing it ring as my eyes widened. "Pick up, you stupid bitch." I muttered, already imagining her Alastor ringtone going off right now.

"You're alive?!" Was the first thing I heard when the call actually answered.

"Where the fuck are you?!" I asked, trying to keep my voice down to avoid waking anyone around me. If there even was anyone around me.

"Sendai City, 2018." She said, I could hear the excitement in her voice as my jaw dropped.

"Bitch, guess where I am." I said, she asked and I couldn't help the massive grin from forming on my face. "Jujutsu High, 2005." I said, biting my lip as she gasped.

"What?!" She yelled, I winced as I pulled the phone away from my ear before chuckling.

"And Geto was flirting with me~." I teased, I could practically feel her jaw drop as her silence told me everything about how she was feeling.

"I'm so fucking jealous." She said making me snicker.

"I know." I mused. "But this means you can go after you're favorite characters, eh?" I asked, knowing she was a major sucker for both Sukuna and Yuji. 

"Yea, now I just have to find his damn school." She said, annoyance in her voice making me chuckle. "Doesn't help that it looks like its getting close to when Megumi is supposed to find the empty finger box."  She said making me snort.

"Hey, I have a question. If Sukuna's fingers are dangerous, does that mean his toes are too?" I asked, hearing silence on the other end before she snorted.

"I might ask him that." She said making me cackle.

"He might kill you." I said, but she just let out a 'pffft' and I could practically see the eyeroll.

"I'd let him as long as he fucked me first." She said making me chuckle, she really was a simp for that king.

"Hey, so they don't know about them being an anime in our world, so if you could try to at least not make this too difficult for future me when you see her, cause I think I'll have to stick around for a long time before we see each other face to face. At least for me it will be." I informed her, hoping she wouldn't end up causing too much chaos in the future.

"Alright, I'll make sure to not expose too much, but I'm telling Sukuna and Yuji after a while. It'll just be weird if I know so much about them while they know nothing." She said making me sigh, knowing she'd probably tell them at some point.

"Maybe just talk to future me when you see her and figure out how to explain it to everyone, okay? And if I call again, don't mention anything about the people in the future of the anime, okay?" I asked, hearing her let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fiiiine. I'll go find you, mother." She said before I heard her footsteps stop. "Oh, found the school. Well, I'll talk to you later, don't die without me." She said, I smiled and nodded, even though she couldn't see me.

"Alright, just don't kill anyone unnecessary, and tell me if Haibara is there when you get to JJ High." I said, chuckling as I figured to mention it before she freaked out. "I may be planning on saving his ass. We need that kind of positivity in the future. Megumi's depressed and angsty ass can suck it." I said as she let out a cackle.

"Careful, he might sick his dogs on you." She said but I only scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"I'd have those dogs lying on their backs begging for belly rubs. Animals love me, I doubt Shikigami will be different." I said, before remembering something and grinning. "Oh, also I saved Geto's life from a giant curse, which I can see so I'm guessing you can too. Okay, bye~!" I said, hanging up before she could answer and cackling as she suddenly was blowing up my phone with messages.

'WTF'

'WHAT DO YOU MESAN YOU SAVED GETO?!'

'ANSWER ME BITFCH! YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAYT!'

'I NEEB DETAILS!!!!!!!'

She wasn't even correcting her spelling which made me laugh, turning my phone off and sitting in the dark as I relaxed, eventually falling asleep after a bit of struggle, but when light rain started to come down and tap on my glass doors, I quickly was lulled to dreamless sleep. 

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

I wasn't at all surprised when I woke up just as the sun was raising with another night of sleep paralysis. This time it was that pinecone family from the game Fran Bow and I couldn't help the snort that came out of my mouth upon seeing the baby looking ugly af.

"Ya'll some ugly motherfuckers. No wonder Fran didn't really care much when she booby trapped and robbed your house." I said, they all turned to stare at me, the baby coming over and crawling onto the bed. "Bitch, you better back the fuck up before I turn you into a Firestarter. I ain't your mother, that bitch is over there." I said, looking over at the mother who look like she was dead in all honesty, not moving as she sat atop my empty desk. It wasn't long after the insults started that I closed my eyes only to open them again as they vanished, the sun now suddenly higher as sunlight shown through my window. I sighed and sat up, slinking off my bed just as I heard a knock on the door. I got up, opening the door to see Shoko with a uniform and small bag in hand as I looked at her in surprise.

"Wow, perfect timing. I just woke up." I chuckled, she smiled and handed me the clothes.

"I figured you'd want them as early as possible so you weren't stuck in your old clothes all day. I also brought some shower items incase you needed them." She said as I took the uniform and bag, the plain black fabric felt nice, and the trademark Jujutsu high buttons were shining as if polished to perfection mere moments ago. 

"Thank you." I said, smiling at her.

"How was your first sleep?" She asked and I shrugged.

"It was fine, I don't usually sleep much cause I get sleep paralysis so, fine as about as good as it gets." I said, scratching the back of my neck as she looked at me surprised.

"Really? I though sleep paralysis was caused by a type of curse. I don't see or sense one attached to you though." She said making me chuckle.

"Well, the things I see are always changing, it's not a set in stone creature so it might just be a me thing." I said making her raise a brow.

"Oh? What was it today?" She asked making me sweatdrop, hoping she wouldn't actually make me explain it.

"Uh.. might sound a bit too crazy to talk about." I said, giving a nervous smile as she chuckled.

"Everyone here is at least a little crazy. Being sane isn't really part of being a jujutsu sorcerer it seems." She said as I sighed, leaning against my door frame.

"I think seeing a giant living pinecone family in your bedroom when you wake up is more then just a little crazy." I said, seeing her face turn to confusion as I crossed my arms, holding the uniform and bag close to my chest. "It's a thing from a video game I played in my time. The things I see tend to be creatures from video games or shows I've watched. When I was a kid it was just shadow people. They're harmless, just kinda annoying." I said as she nodded, seeming to understand a little better why it was so weird.

"Are games with that kind of thing common in the future?" She asked making me chuckle, looking up at her as I nodded.

"For horror games or just slightly disturbing games, yea. I happen to fortunately like the weird or scary games though." I said, scratching the back of my neck nervously as she chuckled.

"I guess that's good. Means we at least know you won't freeze in fear at the sight of a curse." She said as I smiled.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't freeze." I said as she smiled back.

"Well, I'll let you get dressed then. I'm on breakfast duty, so I'll get Suguru to get you when it's done, alright?" She asked and I nodded.

"Sounds good. Thank you, Ieiri." I said, bowing my head just slightly in respect. At least I know something about Japanese formalities. She chuckled and turned to leave, looking over her shoulder at me.

"Just call me Shoko, don't worry about last names with me." She said making me smile wider, nodding.

"Alright then. Thank you again, Shoko." I said before she smiled and waved as she left, leaving me to get changed for the day.

[possumsandprose]

A Court of Trials and Tragedies

Part 2 is here! It's short, and the next part is too (it'll be uploaded very shortly), but I wanted to get the next chapter uploaded in honour of @ultadverb's birthday, so happy birthday to you! I appreciate all your support <3

With that said, let the shenanigans begin.

Feyre collapsed on her bed in complete exhaustion. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her party dress or take off her makeup. As soon as the party had ended, she had run in a horribly unladylike fashion she knew her mother would scold her for later to her bedroom. 12 marriage proposals. Twelve. And only 2 of them were from people she’d heard of.

Chrysis’ words when they were in the temple together rang through her head. The people believe you are the incarnation of Amarantha. Already a temple is being built for your worship. At your birthday, they plan to offer sacrifices.

He was right. As soon as she finished speaking with him, she went in a hurry back to the palace and saddled up her favourite horse, a beautiful white stallion named Xanthus. She rode to the outskirts of the city, and sure enough, it was just as Chrysis said. No amount of pleading would persuade the people otherwise, and she came home in defeat.

She knew her father would be coming to visit her soon to speak about marriage. He hadn’t accepted any of the offers at her party, but soon he would have to choose lest foreign kings resort to less humane ways to acquire her.

The tears rolled down her face for what felt like centuries before her maids swept in.

Gently, she was bathed and dressed for bed, and after hours of prayers to the gods that they would free her from this living nightmare, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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

Rhysand was fuming even as he jumped off the terrace of Amarantha’s palace, his ebony wings sweeping out behind him as he glided towards the castle of Prythian. Already he was angry at the slaughter he had to commit. So many people dead, simply because they didn’t stroke that horrid woman’s ego, and honestly, he couldn’t say he blamed them.

Just when he thought he would be able to go settle down for the evening and be left alone, no. Her Royal Highness had decided that he needed to go deal with some human princess, as if Amarantha wasn’t perfectly capable of doing it herself.

Rhysand hated Amarantha, which he supposed is why she forced him to do all of these things. She even went so far as to call him her son. Even just thinking of being related to her left a foul taste in his mouth.

Rhys determined that he would find the girl, prick her with an arrow, make her fall in love with some ugly peasant, and the deed would be done. She would be disgraced, the people would return to their worship, and Amarantha would be satisfied again.

He mulled over these thoughts as he landed swiftly and silently outside the front gate. The guards hadn’t noticed him. Good. He moved cautiously, whispering as he did so a small incantation.

“Where can I find Feyre Archeron?” he said pleasantly, as if he weren’t breaking into the home of the royal family in the middle of the night.

The guard turned to him in a sort of confused daze. Mortals, Rhysand thought, so easy to manipulate. All it takes is a little spell and their minds are like wet sand.

“Top…tower…third door…on the left,” he said, smiling as though this was the most normal thing in the world, even though his speech was slurring.

“Thank you,” Rhysand said, and disappeared into shadow, knowing the man would not remember anything in the morning.

He made it to the top tower without incident, appearing next to a gorgeous handmade tapestry of what appeared to be the royal family. He observed his surroundings, his curiosity on the human lifestyle outweighing his desire to go and soak in a warm bath at home. He moved along until he reached a wooden door, the third door on the left. Rhys looked at it for a moment, surprising himself, but it was covered in lovely painted designs of the night sky. Hues of blue and black mixed with hints of purple, so like his eyes, with flickers of white speckled within. Even through his general disdain of humans, he had to admit, the work was beautiful. It would make sense that the human girl-Feyre, his mind reminded him for some reason, like her name was some code he ought to remember-had painted these designs, as well as the swirling flames he’d observed on the first door and the multicoloured flowers on the second.

Rhys shook his head. He was here on a mission, not to look at some human artwork. He opened her door, which thanks to his magic made no sound. The smell hit him then. Most humans had distinct smells, but hers…lilacs and something fruity. Perhaps pears. Strolling over to her bed, he pulled out an arrow. Then he saw her face.

It was the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. She shouldn’t have been pretty, given that her eyes were puffy and tear streaks lined her cheeks. But she had enraptured him. Everything about her was striking, and he could not look away. He wanted her, wanted to take her away somewhere far away, where Amarantha would never find them-but no. He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his thoughts. This was a work mission, not some cheap romance. Rhys pulled out an arrow, fitted it to his bow, and fired. It struck Feyre in the heart, and Rhys knew the deed was done. But what he failed to notice was the steady drip, drip, drip of his golden blood onto the floor from the slice across his finger. Somehow, he’d pricked himself on his own arrow.

Hope you all enjoyed! Next part will be up very soon. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts!

Love,

opossum

[miyakuli]

Norn9 Var Commons

There is a girl who watched the anime of Norn9 back in 2016 and well, the anime was pretty bad (and kinda ugly xD) but she still felt kinda interested by the characters and the universe that it stuck in her mind for a long time....especially since she had a big otp in it and the anime never made them canon at the end, the frustration....

The girl soon learned that the anime was actually a bad adaptation of a visual novel game of the same name. She wasn’t playing many at that time because the most of the VN were on PS Vita and the poor girl couldn’t afford one (and wasn’t interested either). So she waited, hoping that someday, the game will be exported on pc or a console she would possess.

And this year, her wish came true ; Otomate group brought Norn9 on switch with a fixed english translation (apparently the previous one was bad) and more contents <3

Ok first, let me be clear, yes I definitely bought the game because I NEEDED TO SEE MY OTP FINALLY BE CANON xD it was for my own mental health lol 7 years of craving guys (TTvTT). I didn’t even start by this one though to not be biased about each routes (it was my 4th routes!!! I’VE BEEN PATIENT) and well, IT WAS STILL THE BEST ROUTE IM SORRY, AKito x Nanami best pair for sure <3333

That being said, how was the game? well, definitely better than the anime xD less confusing and more focused as well...even though the story isn’t always clear and consistent :

❤ An unusual otome since it gives you the choice between 3 different heroines, each with their own LI. They each have their own characteristics and are never relegated to the background, which is really cool for their personal development. Another positive point; THEY ARE DUBBED!!! (I hate when everyone is dubbed except for the girl, it's so annoying ><) ❤ An amazing cast with endearing characters, even the most secondary or the most horrible x) ❤ A very nice chara-design and frankly beautiful illustrations. ❤A beautiful OST which I never get tired of even after 40 hours of play ;) ❤ ALL.THE.EXTRAS!!!! (mini-games + bonus dub on the illustrations + mini comics etc...) ❤ An appreciated fast skip system which, compared to the normal skip, allows you to skip all the dialogues already read at once and which saves a lot of time when you just want to unlock an ending or an illustration.

+/- I really liked the sci-fi aspect of the universe and the story brought a lot of mystery and even surprises..but still there are inconsistencies in how each routes are put together. The universe is getting a little imprecise bcs of that.

✖ The epilogue and the character of Sorata. Sorata is not a bad character but we could very well have removed him that it would not have changed anything I think. He is supposed to be the main character at first but disappears completely in favor of the heroines. And when his route comes with the epilogue, it's so rushed that we don't even have time to appreciate his arc and his role in the story. The poor kid deserved better :/ ✖ The use of first/last names in the English translation is very distracting. For example, we hear the heroine call her companion "Kakeru" in the dubbing but it will be written "Yuiga" in the dialog box. And it happens a lot and I don't understand why the translation just couldn't follow the audio dialogues… ✖ I have a pbm with Ron's route because I didn't feel any real chemistry with Nanami. It's also the only route where I didn't feel any sparks between the characters.

It took me 40h+ to finish so yeah, that's a big one ;) I'd recommend just for the heroines bcs it's a nice change to have more than one but also because the girls are adorable, smart and brave <3 It's rare for me to appreciate that much the main girl tbh!

➡ My personal VN ranking (in french)

[nanjokei]

this is a post of me shitting on intsys for what happened to engage, i honestly feel bad for mika pikazo, basically thrown under the bus by intsys from the start, was given very little instruction on what to do and what the mood of the game (engage) will be and it seems like there wasn't much of an editing down phase either. i feel bad she was just handed the paltry descriptions of 40 characters (being instructed to draw "older woman" and then the character turning out to be 30 sticks out in my mind) with not much direction.

im not a big fan of her style these days, more of a 2018 mika pikazo appreciator, but i question why they hired the artist who most commonly draws album covers, magazine covers and alt designs for already existing characters like hatsune miku. i do think the onus falls on intsys for hiring someone who seemingly doesn't fit the job, but i think if they actually gave real direction the designs would not be in the state they are now.

ofc being the nerd i am i object to her art being pejoratively labeled as "vtuber art" because i never understood that label and also frankly i think it's insulting to reduce the style of an artist who has been around for a long time to just one thing. i keep seeing that post explaining it and its like buddy... sorry you keep seeing personalityless twitch indies who overcompensate by overpaying for ugly overdesigned models but saying "vtuber style" is surmountable to "too anime". what does it mean?! i read that post over and over and i feel like the influence of "vtuber" (incredibly vague term that means nothing and changes between whoever uses it because its convenient) and "genshin" (im not a genshin fan and i dont care for the designs in it but is it really that influential as OP claims?) is very overstated... if anything the design in anime and games these days is increasingly influenced by subculture, shit like jiraikei which i actually dislike because THAT'S repetitive and generic. how many times have you seen a design in recent years that's structurally just this to the point of being boring to tears

im seriously not saying this as a "vtuber fan", given the vtubers i watch most often are "elf guy in a suit", "guy in labcoat", "girl in very normal school uniform" but i find that kind of criticism an oxymoron. is it because i don't really interact with twitch stuff? like, whatever. i know being an oldhead who usually just sticks to what ive liked for years impacts my point of view. my point is that mika pikazo is a talented artist, the designs she put out for engage were a massive miss but 1) was she the person for the job 2) did intsys give her adequate instructions and support and the answer to both is no. i think it's fine to dislike the designs, i don't like a lot of them either now that i've seen all of them. but at the same time a lot of people are just extra rude about it (seen in replies to redesigns) and usually i wouldn't find any issue but knowing the context that intsys screwed pikaZ over really really stings. i remember when engage was revealed people were harrassing her for weeks which sucks, she's been nothing but a really positive presence online.

i was gonna say "anyway hire someone who fits" but then i remembered how kusakihara is one of the most overbearing control freak art directors in any game company i've ever seen, hiring chinatsu kurahana for fe3h and then not letting her draw any of the in-game sprites despite being an artist who is familiar with the workflow of visual novels and the like... and yes i can tell it's kusakihara imitating her style. i know the way he renders, especially the way he makes tits look disgustingly oiled up.

interestingly, kozaki was always thrown under the bus in a similar way to pikazo, making similar remarks about how fantasy designs aren't his forte and how he's not sure why they hired him (we now know it's because they wanted hidari for awakening but he had other obligations). kozaki even got the blame for some of the worse designs like camilla, even though that was a kusakihara design. i'll lay my cards on the table: i think kozaki's designs, given he is not a fantasy artist, i feel comfortable in saying that they're bad. he's a comic-like artist that does well with modern day stuff. you let him onto fire emblem and he makes the insane armor designs in fea and fates. and of course all my respect to him, but like pikazo he is not the right guy for the job.

anyway i hope you guys are ready for them to hire kishida mel next and for every girl to be an infantile school girl cause LOL. they really gotta stop hiring super specialized artists (like pikazo who does one off illustrations best, and kozaki who does western movie/comic book inspired realistic designs best). even when they hire "the right person", intsys and the art director and overall director kusakihara are overbearing and take over too much (as seen with kozaki and kurahana, according to the echoes artbook there were hints of him trying to influence hidari as well but hidari was not shaken + hidari was there on a favor so they probably couldn't pressure him more LOL)

but yeah i think people should be blaming intsys way more

[supercupcakecollector-love]

Changes/ things in season 3 that I disliked 

the positive season 3 post I made  if you would like to read that as well or instead I will be adding both to that post and this one when part 2 comes out  

no im not going to talk about the goddamn costumes, everybody has, I agree and im sick of seeing it  they look cheap and  bad, they need more color they need to look somewhat period appropriate, moving on 

We got alot of amazing bonding moments with Ciri and Yennefer but I wish they would have kept the scene where she saved Ciri from the Wild Hunt.  We already got lots of Geralt Ciri bonding moments, we needed as much stuff with Yen being Ciri`s mother as we could possibly get and that was one of the best scenes, 

(side note of the stuff we did get while I appreciated and “ my ugly one” scene it felt very random and out of place  especially with how dolled up they made Freya look, she didnt need to have any makeup on I would have liked to see her more tomboyish look from the books)

TWN usually knocks casting out of the park but Robbie Amell  as Gallatin felt so out of place with his acting and trying to hide his accent, and much like the problem with blood origin looks nothing like the other elves and his scar is barley noticeable 

I knew he was going to die from when I heard they were going to use an original character instead of  Isengrim or   Iorweth they really did learn from the  Eskel incident. while I didn't like his character his death leads to some amazing character stuff with  Cahir, grappling with his sense of self and loyalty to Emhyr  since they need to have another reason why he changes sides later because of the age gap between him an Ciri in this version

Dijkstra here just doesn't feel like Dijkstra  

normally I don't really care if a character doesn't look  exactly like their book counterpart, but    Dijkstra being a huge imposing pigish man is part of his character,   Graham McTavish isn't doing a bad job, there are a few good scenes and he has good chemistry with Cassie`s Philippa but he just doesn't have the right sarcasm,  snark and attitude for the character, even their dynamic is off they’re equally stubborn, arrogant, conniving, and equally think they’re the one dominating the other , book and game  Dijkstra stole every scene he was in and was one of my favorite characters this version is mostly boring 

( sidenote but I didnt mind the whipping scene it was clearly not meant to be sexual or that they are in a sexual bdsm  relationship but that Dijkstra is a   Flagellant and that its a stress coping mechanism they engage in as they must trust each other in the underground world)

Tissaia and  Vilgefortz being lovers and  Tissaia`s seemingly ooc behavior

now to be fair with the intrigue aspect of this season I think they might do a bait and switch with this either  Tissaia Is acting this way to lead him on and try to stop him, or  Vilgefortz has control over Tissaia in some way ( he is arguabley the most powerful mage in the world even if she also is)  

either that or they put them together so it makes more sense for her to side with him/ Nilfgaardian since they established her as much more an active in this version and not just someone wanting to remain “neutral” like in the books

I just hope that her “ending” has as much impact as it should considering what an important character they made her 

Episode 5 is a mixed bag

while there were definitely things that I loved about this episode like the tender  yenralt moments and the use of dialog from the book, as well as the concept of the framing device from the book, but it got way too repetitive in parts, the Valdo song was fun but it overstays its welcome 

this episode reminds me of the Leverage episode  “ The Rashomon Job“ while that episode changed things things up every time it went back and told the story from another characters point of view this one doesn't do anything all that creative with it, and your stuck watching a bit of the same exact  scenes over and over again with slightly more information 

I imagine this episode will work better when the full season out and we see what its all building up to 

and I said I wouldn't  mention the costumes but, the ball was the one time the consumes had to be really stunning, where is all the color, its so dull looking, why do they look like they are doing a red carpet event in the 90s 

and I didn't  think it was possible to make Anya look anything less than stunning but this is by far Yennefer’s worst look, it bothered me more than any other visual in the season, nothing works about it, shes supposed to be in a gown with her hair down but she look like a cross between a taky 70s Cher impersonator and a low budget bollywood star 

( can some one please draw the TWN actresses in what they are described as wearing in the book like Keira in the green tulle top, Sabrina in the black chiffon blouse and a crimson skirt or Philippa dress lined with diamonds and ermine fur, I will commission you  ) 

the  casting of  Margarita Laux-Antille completely backfires due to how they wrote her character 

 Casting a plus sized black woman as a character that is described as white, and extremally conventionally attractive, to spite the gamer dudebros, is a move I like to be clear I love the diversity this show has given us  incredible actresses like Anya and  Anna and Mimi that in past years would have been looked over 

 but unfortunately they make her character conform to the “ angry black woman stereotype” and hit Ciri despite her character in the books who could be described  as “sweet” and “the cool teacher”   hopefully we will see her  character more like the books with the lodge in the second half of the season 

and just general “sins of the father” stuff that is from the books but isn't given proper context for show only fans to understand 

 like the discussion about aelirenn leaving out that older elves are infertile, or    many things about Aplegatt and his role in the story, the “ my ugly one” line feeling really out of place im sure there is more but thats all I can remember for now,  

[fatimaah]

late spring (is it?)

I almost forgot that we're camping today when my mom woke me up. Had to go change my clothes quickly. Then the trip began.

When we go camping, for me, the camping starts from packing up things for the picnic. Even just changing your clothes is a part of this "fun". Especially I love the car ride (well not when it's too hot inside of the car and you're the only one awake) but usually, I love it.

Had some alone time after breakfast (erm, mind u, breakfast was at FUCKING 12, but it's fine). I climbed the hill, and reached this beautiful field of dandelions and other white flowers (don't know what these are called) and lied down there.

Well, my alone-time wasn't too long – soon I saw my bros with a volleyball and we decided to play. Our parents also came later. We did some photoshoot w my dad and then just laid down with my mom. Haven't really talked with her for a long time. We had a normal conversation? we discussed a lot actually)))

On the way back my uncle got me some halal drinks and ice cream, AND BTW he got me a cup and a journal for Eid (I don't know if I should start keeping like a real paper journal or no because I don't really know what to write there plus I don't want ppl to read it so hmmm)

And I really appreciate that we, women, were sitting inside a tent, but men were outside the whole time.... I hope they didn't get a sunburn, I tried praying outside and after 6mins my face was BURNING.

But the weather was just perfect and also there were butterflies flying everywhere...

~im in looove~

April, 11. 2024

oh wait ohhh noo I don't wanna go to graduation photoshoot tomorrow I wanna stay at home and finally do some Arabic (it's been FOUR DAYS since I last studied ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

Also my clothing looks ugly and I don't have time and courage to go shopping....damn

Okay I mean who cares it's just a graduation photoshoot not a big deal (it is a big deal)

edit: nevermind the photoshoot - after taking some photos I realized I hate being on camera and wanted to go there just for fun and idk to spend some time w my friends (they all looked gorgeous).

And we got pizza with my brothers which was also fun (tho my little sister felt left our after that so we will get her new roller skates to cheer her up)

Apr 12-13, 2024.

[fmp2emilycywinski]

12 Fairy Tales for Young Feminists

I wanted to research some fairy tales that have a woman as the main character, fighting for herself,  so I am looking at fairy tales made by feminists for younger feminists.

Now just the clarify, I am an “Equalist”, I believe in equality for all and if I catch books with a hint of man-hating or hypocrisy I will speak out about it, since that is the wrong message to give to children.

Not All Princesses Dress In Pink

This one seems to be a cool book. At the moment, the internet is struggling to understand what a “Woman” is, and a lot of people are confused and are saying that a woman is a feeling when science disagrees with that logic. It is the genitalia you own and your chromosomes, that is it. But since people are saying it's feeling, they think that if you are a man that likes to wear a dress and admire female clothing, unless you are gederdeiforic, you are not tran. That's just who you are.

But the same thing is happening to women, people are confused and when they are a woman but like to wear all black or casual “boy” clothes. Causing them to get confused about who they are. They also tend to be uncomfortable in their bodies because of very normal puberty, but because they aren't properly educated, it turns into what they think is “gender dysphoria”.

So a book that can educate women on their biology and that it's ok to dress and act differently than most women, doesn't mean that they are anything less than a woman, it just means you have accepted who they are and that they love themself for it.

This book I appreciate a lot.

The art style is very cute, I love how simple every thing looks, it's very on-brand for a children's book.

Off the bat, this doesn't feel like a feminist book. I just feel like someone took the story of Little Red Riding Hood and just changed the setting from a European setting to an African setting. I could imagine that this was mostly a story to tell kids in African schools to stay away from strangers, which I can understand since forests aren't very popular in Africa.

The set style is quite different from what I usually see in children's books, it's quite stylized and has a strange wiggly line art to it. I'm not a fan of it, but it's a style that children will probably not mind.

I have no idea what this one is about but it doesn't sound pleasant, I just hope it's not harmful to children or spread a man-hating message since that is sadly a popular message nowadays with modern feminism.

This is an art style I don't like very much. I'm not a fan of how this look and I'm not sure why, I think it's because of the strange shape decisions and also the character design of the snow white.

Off the bat, Thumbelina is already a feminist fairy tale since she is basically on her own, however, she does get a lot of help from animals but she never gets rescued by a prince which I know is something modern-day feminists hate nowadays. So there isn't much else to say about this, apart from the art style is very cute the colour palettes being very pretty to look at.

I'm not quite sure what this story is about but I think it's inspired by Little Red Riding Hood because of the name.

The art style, I hate it. It's ugly, I hate how the proportion on the face are just all over the place, I just hate this art style so much.

The art style is so cute and I love the colours and just how satisfying it all looks. Sadly the message of the book concerns me, the title sounds like it's a jab at heroic men. What I get is a good message that women are capable of taking care of themselves but because of modern-day feminism, they seem to forget that men are naturally stronger and biology and science are the truth but for some reason now it's forbidden to know and understand the truth.

However, I don't know what the book entirely says and I believe that this message can be done right, that there is a big chance that this book did just that. And hopefully, young girls can have a healthy message.

[countlessrealities]

FISH MONET ~ imprvdente​

Head tilted in confusion, Fish watched as her friend started spilling out absurd scenarios. Specific ones, too. Strangely specific. She frowned, examining him for a long, excruciating moment while he stammered and stumbled upon his words. Morty was the weirdest boy she’d ever met, sometimes. Luckily for him, Fish liked weird things.

“What’s a Cronenberg?“ she finally asked, nonchalantly enough, when he was done with his strange diatribe. “You have a lot of imagination. Maybe you should write novels too, I mean you sure seem to have a lot of scenarios in mind.“ She could even swear he had almost said dragons were perverts. Then again, she’d read some books where that was true. Maybe he had read “Fire & Scales“ too.

“I still think adventures are great,“ she insisted, “even if they can be dark and dangerous. Danger’s part of the fun, right? An adventure wouldn’t be an adventure if it was easy. Heroes are supposed to struggle and everything.“ Of course, Fish had no idea that Morty had shared some very real anecdotes.

At his promise that he wouldn’t snitch, she gave him a big, happy smile. “I knew I could count on you. My advice? Keep the books under your bed! But never under your pillow. Parents check under the pillow.“ She grimaced, as if to say ‘trust me, I know what I’m talking about’.

And as for the very, very awkward question Morty had somehow found appropriate to ask, it seemed Fish had already forgotten all about it. She laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s ok, it’s ok. Just… let’s change the subject ok?“ She never stayed upset for very long, her moods as changing and whimsical as the tides. And besides, seeing her friend quite so mortified was so funny it made it hard to stay offended.

A lot of imagination.

Of course, that was what it had to sound to the ears of someone who had no idea that all he had mentioned not only existed, but were things that Morty himself had personally witnessed and experienced. It made him wonder if Fish would have still thought that it was all cool and fun, even if in a weird way, had she known.

"I-I guess I do, don't I? I-It must be why I'm always so, uh, distracted," He answered, rubbing the back of his neck as yet another strained chuckle left his lips. "D-Daydreaming and stuff..."

These days, he mostly dreamt since he was half asleep half during half of his school mornings. Even the days when he would lose himself in fantasies of Jessica's boobs and panties were almost completely behind him. Now, most of his reveries were populated with strange worlds, weirder creatures and the boundless blackness of space.

"Uh, a-a Cronenberg is...a monster."

How reductive that term was, especially considering that the ones he was thinking about had once been normal people like the two of them. Perhaps his original dimension used to have a Fish too, but now she had to be an unrecognisable creature like everyone else.

And it was all his and Rick's fault.

"O-One that looks kind of like...a-a collage of different pieces of other...beings. H-Human and not, but mostly not. T-They are really ugly. A-At least, uh, I think so."

He had learnt very quickly how beauty was indeed in the eye of the beholder. Different races valued and appreciated different kinds of physical traits. Something that was hideous in someone's eyes could be gorgeous for someone else.

"A-Anyway, it's...yeah, under the bed. Got it," Morty hurried to say, not wanting to accidentally space out in front of his friend. "T-That's where I keep my..." Nope, nope, don't say it. "Uh, I mean, I-I hide some things there too. M-Mom sometimes looks under the bed, b-but never under the mattress."

The teen quickly nodded at Fish's dismissal of the embarrassing subject he had accidentally brought up. He was infinitely grateful that she had chosen not to torment him with it, even if she would have had all the rights to do it.

"I-I was thinking...H-How about I come with you? T-The next time you go scouting for your po-...books? I...I'm still skeptical, b-but you made me curious, so I-I want to see where you get them."

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

notes:  thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this.  in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one! 

anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter.  beta read by @hobi-gif​ because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593​ who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter​ for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia​ and @untaemedqueen​ pitched in to help me in this journey as well.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem.  Well a few problems, actually.

The first is that he has to pee.

The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear.  He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.

A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.

The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.

Your hair is still damp.

Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep.  You smell like his shampoo and his soap.  You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You are covered in him; fitted to him.  Solid and warm and real.

Which brings him to his next problem.  

This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to.  The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit.  Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.

That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs.  He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.

He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.

Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.

And then he’s drifting off again.

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

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face.  His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.  

But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.

He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on.  Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him.  He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.  

So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.  

The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.

He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place.  Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower.  Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water.  Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.

And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.

Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do.  A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago.  But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell.  A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.  Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.

He has to tell you about that gun.

So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed.  It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress. ��Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.

He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.  

It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months.  But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.

Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.

And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.

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

He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled.  Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.

He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.

Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them.  At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.

“Beautiful,” you sigh.  

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

He crosses the room slowly.  Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible.  Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.  

“I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.

Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling.  “You already have.”

He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw.  You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly,  “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone.  Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.  

Would have, had you not been there.

“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly.  “You made the right call.”

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.  

“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw.  He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.  

On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.

He clears his throat.  “If that guy had brought backup -- ”

“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.

Yoongi chuckles.  “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”

“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”  

You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response.  “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.  

Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.  

“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh.  “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”

“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs.  “When I have two functioning arms.”

He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat.  Sadness creeps back into your features.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap.  “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you.  And all I can think about this morning is why?  Why did you do this for me?”

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.  

If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo .  That you feel like his chance at something more.  But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.  

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

“We’re both out here flying solo Doc.  We have to look out for each other.  Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears.  “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips.  And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.

Tell her about the gun.  

The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment.  Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth.  But before he can speak, you do.

“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts.  Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it.  “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.

He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather.  It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony.  It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.

It’s been a long time since he’s prayed.  It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

Yoongi shakes his head.  “Honestly? I don’t know.”  A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck.  “Just makes me feel better, I guess.  Is that dumb?”

“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek.  Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours.  “Not dumb at all.”

Tell her about the gun.

“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”

Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.

Almost.

“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck,  “I carry a gun all the time, actually.  I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You say nothing, expression unreadable.  And Yoongi keeps talking.

“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly.  “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”

Your eyes drop back down to the piano.  You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.

“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur.  “It’s not exactly a leap of logic.  Besides, I already saw your gun.  It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away.  You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night.  You’re still here right now.

“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit.  “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”

Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his.  Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point.  Maybe is not a dead end.  

“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment.  “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours.  “You can’t go back there.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away.  “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi.  This is years of my life.”

Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside.  He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.

“You’re not safe there.”

“I have to go back.  I don’t have a choice,” you repeat.  “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been.  I have to tread carefully.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales.  “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job.  Take a couple of sick days.  Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it.  Can you do that?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.

“Yeah,” you concede softly.  “I can do that.”  

You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.

Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention.  He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.  

Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this.  Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.  

He could not give a shit.

Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck.  He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.

He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless.  The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.

“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly.  “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighs.  “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”

“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge.  “He’s a good doctor.  He can get you some pain relief.  Get you back to working condition.”

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn.  “This is just a temporary fix.  You have to be careful.  Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”

Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.

“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs.  “I’m going to have some help.”

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

It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.  

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.

If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight.  Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course.  He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.

Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand.  He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.

The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.

“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches.  “What the hell happened to you?”

Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait.  He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.

“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin.  The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.

“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.

“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly.  “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”

Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face.  He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.

“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it.  Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“You’re not gonna say hello?  Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction.  The last thing he needs is a drink.  He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.

“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs.  “Don’t be a dick.  I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers.  “That’s new.”

Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.  Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.

“Jung,” he groans.  “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“So apologize then.”

“Fine,” Yoongi mutters.  “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately.  I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”

Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.  

“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats.  “We good now?”

Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.  

Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.

“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked.  “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck.  His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling.  He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.

“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation.  “Maybe.”

Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one.  He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar.  His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”

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

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.  

Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.

He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair.  Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.

Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.  

He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head.  They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop.  Catch him just before he got into his car.  Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.

There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.

Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way.  Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face.  Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.

Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.

Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take.  He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.  

No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.  

It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink.  He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move.  But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

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

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work.  Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one.  Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.

His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.

It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping.  Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing.  He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.

Yoongi shakes his head in disgust.  Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?

It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside.  It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke.  The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.

Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.  

He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet.  But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past.  He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok.  Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

Yoongi takes a step towards Lee.  He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it.  Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.

Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.

“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly.  “And yes, it’s you.”

The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.

“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat.  “I know people.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung?  This guy knows people.”

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster.  Pupils blown with fear and coke.

“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly.  “You know people.  But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath.  Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.

“Great.  Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”

Lee shakes his head slowly.

“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”

The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.

“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident.  But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee.  She knows people, too.”

Lee’s body goes rigid.  Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.

“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers.  “You know her.”

“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs.  “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”

He advances on the man again, closing the space between them.  Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room.  He tilts against the stall door.

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly.  “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”

Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.  

“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.

“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply.  “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go.  You sure this guy is a doctor, Min?  He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”

“Nah.  This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor.  “Pretending to be a tough guy, too.  But all of that ends tonight.”

Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.

“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital.  You’re going to tell them you are leaving.  You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you.  And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”

He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.

“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”

Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.

“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace.  “Give us the name of your street guys.”

Lee panics.  “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks.  “They’ll kill me.”

Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall.  His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.  

“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me.  Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”

Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack.  He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern.  But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look.  That is something he did not see coming.  Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.

He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.

“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly.  “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”

Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance.  “Okay.”

“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.

Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago.  Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past.  “That was cold.”

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

YOU

There’s buzzing.  Of that, you’re sure.

But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it.  You’re disoriented.  It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.

Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day.  If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.

The buzzing sounds again.

You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.

ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]

ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]

ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]

Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.  

Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay.  He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled.  But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.

It made you want to say yes.

Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic.  In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.

you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]

you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]

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

Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.

You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs.  Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.

“Eat,” she orders sweetly.  Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.

“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs.  “I might have to live with you forever.”

Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.

“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak.  “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully.  “Dr. Lee is gone.  Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”

You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread.  Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.

“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more.  Nang left, too.  And Tuan and Beom from pathology.  All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi.  Isn’t that wild?”

You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.

“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around.  And here I am, drinking my tea.  Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now.  Isn’t that interesting?”

You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.

“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”

Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.

“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly.  She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip.  “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”

She leans back, cup in hand.

“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while.  “But there’s still a lot I don’t know.  And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”

Ko tuts under her breath.

“I want to hear it all.  I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore.  So now you spill it.”

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

“Okay,” you exhale.  “So there’s this guy -- ”

“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts.  She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”

“Helping you,” Ko echoes.  “As in helping you out of your clothes?”

“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming.  “He’s a friend.”

Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie.  But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.

“Go on.”

“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly.  “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses.  “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work.  And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”

You nod weakly.

“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low.  “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”

“No,” you mumble.  “Definitely not.”

Ko hums under her breath.  She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim.  Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.

“If I said no would that stop you?”

“Not a chance,” Ko laughs.  “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”

Mind like a steel trap, this woman.  You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast.  There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction.  Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth.  But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.

Her approval.

“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”

Ko snorts.

“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya .  And if he’s helping you with something like this?  Chances are, you’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table.  “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”

The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.

“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly.  “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.”  She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own.  “But you do.  You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him.  And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”

Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes.  The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.  

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop.  Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.

But it's well past time you accepted the truth.

The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug.  The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun.  They’re two halves of one whole.  

And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.

Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants.  You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.

yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]

yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]

Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you.  You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head.  “Just, um -- ”

Bundle up.   A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.  

“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.

Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.

You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival.  The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s.  You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.  

You pull it out.

The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.

You don’t have to guess what it’s for.

You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.

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

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[kiribaku-fics-whatever]

Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU

things small and precious by aloera

Star player Kirishima is threatened with being pulled off the Quidditch team unless he can get his Arithmancy grades up. Enter Bakugou Katsuki.

slow dancers by chonideno

In which Bakugou asks Camie to be his date for the Yule Ball and Kirishima, in spite of everything he stands for, runs away from the sight of his hands around her waist.

Failing is Not an Option by laurenamberly

Ashido stared at Kaminari like he’d grown several heads. “Merlin!” she cried. “You are a genius!”

“… huh?”

Ashido was all a-flutter, poking Kirishima and bouncing in her seat. “You don’t have to quit the team!” she said. “Tutoring will help!”

After a beat, Kaminari spoke up again. “Okay, so if that problem’s solved,” he said slowly, “does that mean I can tell him about the gay thing?”

"DENKI!"

~~~

Or, Kirishima Eijirou is the popular, friendly Gryffindor in need of a tutor - and Midoriya has just the grumpy Slytherin in mind.

light years away by lvgia

Katsuki doesn’t need a saviour, Eijirou’s more than sure of that. But he could probably appreciate someone more along the lines of a partner.

His left hand finds Katsuki’s right, and he laces their fingers together.

“I’m getting you out of here someday.”

Universe-hopping, in which the only constant is your hand in mine.

Shed Skins and Unbreakable Bones by Milligramme

Katsuki shouldn’t be here. The Slytherin common room is dark, damp and ugly, and full of manipulative idiots who think they’re better than everyone just because of their birth. They brag about their families and their connections, pretend to like each other and whisper nasty rumors about their “friends” as soon as they can’t hear… Katsuki hates this. He hates it! How could that stupid hat believe he belongs with these assholes? It’s been a month since the school year started, and Katsuki has never been more sure: he shouldn’t be in this stupid house.

At eleven, Bakugou is sure of one thing: he hates being a Slytherin. That is, until a curious and overly friendly little mer creeps into his life and leaves the door wide open for other people to come in. Follow Bakugou through his seven years at Hogwarts as he learns about friendship, love, and the woes of growing up.

Squad Up by tsumekakusu

“Have you ever seen Kiri get mad? Like, really mad?”

Quidditch by fairietailed

Their best defense was always performed when he and Kirishima were together, working in tandem, weaving through the air to simultaneously block all three standing hoops and (in Bakugou’s case) run off any chasers that attempt to get close enough to score.

No matter where he was on the pitch, Bakugou found himself drawn back to their goal, and back to Kirishima.

Together they were a force to be reckoned with.

The Second Task by rayshine_krbk

Bakugo's eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat. His limbs flashed white hot as his heart skipped a beat then thumped harder in his chest, and the cold he so loathed no longer registered.

/They couldn't-- they wouldn't-- surely--/

But even as he thought it, as he turned frantic eyes on the lake, he knew.

"Kirishima," he whispered.

/Shitty Hair./

They'd stolen Shitty Hair.

---

Harry Potter Triwizard Tournament AU

Bakugo is the Hogwarts Champion, of course. But what-- or rather, who-- have they stolen from him?

Lean for me and I'll Fall Back by bakudrgcn

Bakugou Katsuki, Hogwarts prodigy and Gryffindor prefect, was strolling down the halls of the castle after his classes ended on a perfectly normal school day.

A group of younger kids was walking towards the opposite direction, but they instantly quietened when they saw him.Their steps slowed and they spoke with hushed voices they must've thought he could not hear.

"...still a fucking mudblood…"

Well, it was another normal day. Before it all went to shit.

if you love me let me know by rain (meggowo)

It was a fear of wasted time, of moving on despite the excitement and yearn for change. A fear that, after this year, there would be no choice but to move forward, no way to look back and reminisce, a fear that friendships wouldn’t last past graduation regardless of how much they felt like family.

---

Or, seventh-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Katsuki Bakugou is scared that he's running out of time and decides to confess to his best friend.