#if they had ten episodes that were all an hour long it would have been better

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Am I the only one that didn't hate season four?

[bemusedlybespectacled]

what's happening with James Somerton right now: a probably-incomplete primer

TW: suicide, including suicide as a threat and a manipulation tactic.

The short version:

James Somerton is a former Youtube essayist who focused entirely on queer history, queer media criticism, and queer issues in general. He is also a flagrant grifter who has made tens of thousands of dollars via fraud, both directly (lying about his finances to beg for money and getting donations for films he never even started making) and indirectly (stealing whole essays and articles and books, reading them out loud verbatim for his videos without indicating they were anything other than his own work, and then using the prestige he gained from using their work to get Patrons and sponsorships).

The story as told James and James apologists was that James attempted to apologize twice, was hounded mercilessly on the internet for weeks, and then, driven to the end of his rope, he posted a suicide note on Twitter, was MIA for several days, and from then on has been avoiding the internet.

The actual story, as revealed yesterday, was that James used two sockpuppet accounts to defend himself and parrot his talking points (again, while publicly claiming to be trying to take responsibility for his actions), using one to try to rebrand the con under a different name and another to deliberately stoke the panic caused by his suicide note. He was not only aware of the pain and anxiety he was causing people, but he encouraged it on one alt while hornyposting about his favorite movies on the other.

He is an unrepentant con artist who successfully used a suicide threat to prevent further interference with future cons. The only reason he was caught is because he is apparently incapable of going more than a couple of weeks without trying to get back in the internet spotlight, allowing people to tie his alts back to him. He lies for fun and profit and he should not be taken seriously, ever.

The long version:

In December 2023, Youtube essayist Hbomberguy (Harry Brewis) put out a four-hour-long video about plagiarism on the internet, and devoted two hours to addressing as much of JS's plagiarism as he could. I strongly recommend watching the entire thing, as the first two hours build on the concepts that he uses later in the video.

He also blew the whistle on James' fraud surrounding Telos, a studio James founded using thousands of dollars of IndieGoGo money that never actually produced any films despite him definitely working on them! Any day now they'll be released! Don't you worry!

A day later, Todd in the Shadows, a guy whose entire thing is music reviews, posted his own video debunking multiple outright lies that James had told about history, especially queer history. A few more days later, The Ace Couple, who run a podcast about asexuality, released an episode detailing how they'd lost $1.5k donating to Telos.

I have put the videos, Twitter threads, Patreon posts, and Reddit posts by other people discussing different aspects of James' fraud under the cut.

Every other time James was caught plagiarizing, prior to Harry's video, he would lie about it. Either he'd have some excuse (easily proven to be a lie) or he'd retreat to his favorite deflection: "I'm just being harassed because I'm gay."

This last lie was one he'd use not only to deflect accusations of plagiarism, but all criticism in general, no matter how trivial. Every time, the critic or someone associated with them would somehow dox him, or harass him, or send him death threats, or threaten to falsely accuse him of sexual assault.

This happened to The Ace Couple (who'd tried to correct him on something extremely acephobic in one of his videos), Jessie Gender (who'd tried to correct him when he claimed that there were no queer content creators on Nebula, given that she and a bunch of other queer creators were definitely on that platform), and the person who first blew the whistle on him stealing from Tinker Belles and Evil Queens by Sean Griffin (who was accused of being behind death threats he'd received, and hounded so harshly they had to leave Twitter).

It is important to note that every time James faced potentially damaging criticism, or even just a threat to his ego, suddenly he would claim to be harassed by people connected to the critic, including threats to his life. There has never been any proof of any threats being directed at him, nor evidence that, if the threats were real, that they are actually from people connected to the critic.

In the original video by Hbomberguy, Harry makes a compelling argument that James brought on a friend of his, Nick, as a co-writer specifically as a shield against accusations of plagiarism. "How dare you accuse me of plagiarism! Nick would NEVER do that!" This is even more apparent given subsequent developments which I will get into.

When evidence started dropping about different aspects of his fraud (not only Harry's video, but Todd in the Shadows' video debunking his misinfo, The Ace Couple's podcast about their experience donating to his fraudulent film studio, and Dan Olson's tweet thread about James' obvious lies about his finances), he went into hiding for two weeks, and then put out the first of two apologies. He then deleted that one and put out another one a few weeks later. And then he immediately deleted that one.

While his first apology was rambling, vague, and dramatic (lots of sniffing/crying), and his second was more measured, thought-out, and totally batshit (lots of hilariously and bizarrely implausible excuses for why he'd done what he'd done), they had roughly the same points:

Not ALL of his stuff was plagiarized! Actually, a lot of it wasn't! No specifics as to what, though!

Most of the stuff that was plagiarized was just a failure to properly cite sources, as he had no idea that putting someone's name in your end credits or video description (without specifying what parts are attributable to that person or disclosing that you are using their words verbatim) is not sufficient credit,

Also, he totally had permission, in some cases, to use their work verbatim prior to publishing the video (this is not true, and is disproven both in Harry's video and his own screenshots);

He definitely didn't commit fraud with Telos and would soon have a good explanation for where the money went! (he did not)

He was going to keep the videos up so that he could either donate the funds from any monetization to the fund Harry had set up for his victims or to "help Nick's portfolio" by showcasing his work;

He lost his best friend (i.e. Nick) over these allegations, who absolutely definitely wasn't a scapegoat, except Nick was also responsible for a lot of the stuff James was being criticized for;

He was going to keep the videos up so he could either donate the advertising proceeds to Harry's fund for his victims (first apology) or to "help Nick's portfolio" by showcasing the work he'd done; and

As a result of this entire ordeal, he had attempted either self-harm or suicide (he merely alluded to "doing something stupid").

Again, his response was to 1) downplay the severity of his actions or flat out ignore allegations against him, 2) come up with ridiculous excuses for his behavior, 3) throw Nick under the bus, and 4) claim to be in mortal danger. As far as I am aware, he has never taken any concrete action to make amends to any person, not even donating money to charity.

This was coupled with some kind of attempt to profit: monetizing his apology videos, closing and then reopening his Patreon right before the monthly charge cycle happened (totally to let people unfollow him, not at all as a grab for that money), creating a new Patreon under a different name, and changing his Twitter and Youtube handles to distance himself from the controversy while gathering new followers.

At one point (I forget if this was on Twitter or Instagram), he also said that someone had broken into his apartment due to the notoriety he'd received from Harry's video. I believe that was after his first apology, when people started to point out that he'd just changed the name of his Twitter and Youtube channel and had restarted a new Patreon under a pseudonym. (BTW, the pseudonym he used for his new Patreon was "The Gay Raconteur"; this will be important later).

It had what I think was the desired effect: any attempt at pointing out that he was rebranding his grift now came across as weirdly fixated on minor things he was doing, which certainly wasn't worth putting him in physical danger. (Again, he has never provided any proof of this happening, nor provided any evidence that these people allegedly threatening him were, in fact, in some way inspired by Hbomb).

So along comes March 5, 2024, and James posts a suicide note on his Twitter, saying that he is going to set up his videos to automatically publish (for Nick's portfolio), provide in some way for the ad revenue to go to a suicide prevention nonprofit, and then kill himself.

The immediate response from the internet was compassion and totally chilling any further criticism, since you might be callously criticizing a dead person. Harry and Kat worked for a couple of days to get a wellness check for him while a substantial section of the internet called them murderers.

On March 6, a day after the note was published, Nick tweeted that that he had cause to believe James was fine. Kat confirmed that James was safe on March 11. Due to the drama of the "suicide attempt," however, the chill on criticizing James stayed in place for months.

And then yesterday Lady Emily, one of the cowriters for Sarah Z., drops two more bombs:

James has not one but two alt accounts that he was using to rebrand and start over.

The first one was created between his first and second apologies, and originally was for "The Gay Raconteur" until he changed it to "Will"/"thatgayyouknow" and, later, "The Achillean Boy."

The second one was much older, under the pseudonym "Mikey JB," and used stolen pictures from Grindr instead of his own face. However, it is pretty obvious that it is, in fact, a sockpuppet account and not just some other person who happens to like James, as detailed below.

Both accounts, both between apologies and after his "suicide," talked about how criticism of James was unfair because the plagiarized stuff was "like a decade old" and repeating the same excuses that James had also made.

The "Mikey JB" account not only supported James, but actively threw Nick under the bus, saying that a criticized part of a video "reeks of his co-writer."

On March 6, the day after James' main Twitter posted the suicide note, The Achillean Boy account was hornyposting about Ryan Phillipe. James didn't even take a day or two off of Twitter. If he had been completely off Twitter for a couple of days, that could have been an indication that he really had hurt himself and was unable to access his phone, or at the very least unaware of the panic. But he wasn't. He was aware of it and did nothing. Actually, no! Worse than nothing!

On the same day (March 6), the Mikey JB account was actively contradicting Nick saying he was okay (they "haven't spoken in months" so there's no way Nick could know if he was alive) and saying that "people like you" i.e. his critics, "drove him to it." Not only did he ignore the panic he'd intentionally created, he actively drove it.

He saw people going emotionally through the wringer over the idea that they might have somehow caused his death, and intentionally made them keep thinking it. He say people calling his critics "murderers" for "driving him to his death," and he joined in.

Why am I explaining all of this? I want to make a couple of things extremely clear, and the context is necessary to my ultimate points, namely:

James Somerton didn't merely "credit people improperly;" he conned his followers out of more money than some people make in a year with the Telos con, while raking in thousands more per month on Patreon and buying expensive equipment, while claiming to be near insolvency and in desperate need of money.

James Somerton has never taken full responsibility for his actions or attempted to make amends. He has only ever tried to dodge responsibility, particularly by throwing Nick under the bus.

Every time he has ever been criticized, for any reason, he has lied about threats to his life to gain sympathy and quell criticism. This is a standard part of his MO. He has done this over and over and over again. At this point, I think if he says the sky is blue, someone should go out and check first before doing anything.

"But BB, what if he really is getting harassed/threatened or really is suicidal?"

So, okay: people who are attempting to manipulate you may use legitimate problems as a tool. It doesn't need to be fake to be effective - in fact, it might be more effective if it it's true. An abusive ex who says "if you leave me, I'll kill myself" and genuinely means it and actually attempts it (and possibly even succeeds!) is a lot harder to leave than someone who says the same thing but is clearly just bluffing, because the threat is real.

My rule of thumb in these cases is to treat the threat like it's real, without caving to the intended manipulation. Whether your ex is lying or telling the truth when they say, "I'll kill myself if you leave me," the appropriate response in both cases is to immediately call a mental health service or supportive family member. If it's fake, it's inconvenient for them; if it's real, you reacted appropriately. Your response needs to be the same regardless.

You don't get back together with them because it's a real threat (presumably you wouldn't do that if you knew it was fake and they were never in any danger), and you don't tell them that they're a piece of shit who should be dead (HOPEFULLY you wouldn't do that if you knew for a fact that they were telling the truth).

In this case, I am extremely confident in saying that he was coldbloodedly lying the entire time and was never once threatened, and certainly not to the degree he claimed to be. But even if he wasn't, that does not and should not change anyone's behavior in terms of holding him accountable.

And I mean actually holding him accountable: making sure he doesn't try to start a new con on new people, continuing to point out that he hasn't paid anyone back for his previous con (so long as it's still true), that sort of thing. It doesn't mean people should tell him he should go die for real or, I don't know, try to get him fired if he gets a job at Tim Horton's or Target or something else that's not fraud. That would be wrong regardless of whether he's actually in danger or not. The point is to avoid being cruel without negotiating with terrorists.

Video sources and links under the cut:

Links:

It's like Breaking Bad, but backwards: a brief history of how Somerton successfully screwed himself Dan Olson's Twitter thread about the financial fraud My Year With James: Todd's post explaining the backstory of his video (Patreon-locked) DJSO#: Dan Olson's breakdown of James' second apology (Patreon-locked) Lady Emily's Twitter threads revealing James' alt accounts, part 1 and part 2

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (9)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. profanity, usage of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode ten

Satoru had a major problem. 

And it was his self-control. His lack of self-control was the reason he had engaged himself in an adulterous relationship back when he was married. His lack of self-control was the reason why you had become the recipient of his unreasonable anger in the early stages of your marriage. His lack of self-control was the reason why, out of all the women in the world, he was now sleeping with a friend of yours. For God’s sake, his lack of self-control was probably the reason why you were also pushed to your limits, choosing to cut your marital ties with him and leaving only the scraps of his role as a parent to Sachiro.

Back when he was attending his weekly therapy sessions, his therapist told him that part of what he needed to learn was to control his impulses, resist temptations, and actively exercise his willpower. They were easier to achieve then than now, since he was the loneliest man at the time with no friends, no wife, no son, and no bustling company to run. His decisions remained untainted, his temptations unchallenged, his emotions uninfluenced—a solitary journey at its finest. He was all by himself. How come? It was because he was sent by his mom to Osaka to temporarily seclude him from his harrowing memories in Tokyo, compelling him to sever ties with the outside world and immerse solely in personal convalescence. Reflecting now, it felt no different than being sent to a psychiatric hospital.

He could say it worked at the time. He learned how to keep his emotions at bay. He learned how to control his thoughts, throwing away the bad and keeping only the good. He was a new man by the time he returned to Tokyo, prepared as ever to take on his role as the Chairman of the Gojou Group, ready to once again try and live a normal life. But the moment news had spread about his ex-wife's marriage to his business rival, all the self-control he had painstakingly cultivated seemed to have evaporated in an instant.

Everything also went downhill after that. 

He wasn’t going to list down all of the things that happened nor the impact it had on him since you yourself were a witness to them. But if he was going to look at the way your return has changed the trajectory of his life 3 years after you first left, he would still at a hundred percent put all the blame on his shoulders. None of this domino effect would end up like this if he had been a faithful and loving husband in the first place. The pressure from his father was not the only root of all this, the branches also extended to his corporate greed which ultimately ruined his chance at a fruitful marriage with you. 

But at least, the chaos should have settled by now. You chose to move forward and he decided to respect your decision by finding his way to another. This should free you both from the emotional torture that had you imprisoned in each other's cage for the longest time. He would still be there for you as the father of your child, but otherwise, he was happy that you had Toji Zen’in by your side to fill in the marital gaps that he had failed to complete. 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The warm water fell on his body in rivulets, soaking him completely so early in the morning as he decided to take a long shower. For how long? He couldn’t tell. He could stay there for hours if need be. He had to let his mind wander on its own, with a hand pressed against the wall, and another stroking his white hair back. Despite accepting the fact that Toji now owned your love and affection… well, wasn’t that son of a gun too lucky? Did he even realize that the woman he would marry was once Satoru’s entire universe? 

Ah, but who cares? Satoru scoffed inwardly, leaning his head back to let the water hit his face. He had Akemi, so why did it matter if you had Toji? He wasn’t bitter. He was just trying to reason with himself that you deserved to be with someone you really, truthfully loved. And he deserved that, too. Maybe not now, but at the perfect time, he could relive the life of a married man after learning from his mistakes the hard way. A much better one. A married man who would never in his life betray, hurt, or ruin his partner. A doting husband who would offer his whole life just to make her happy. He promised to himself that Akemi should have that kind of man from him. 

Though, he could ask himself, how far was he from achieving that? He did practice his self-control last night when joined you in the pool—his face, inches away from you. Hand gripping your hip. Eye-to-eye. Skin-to-skin. Your warm breath fanning his cheek. Just another step forward and your lips would touch. But he didn’t let that happen. He mustered all of his power to pull back from the gravity that was drawing him closer to you. Still, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. As the moonlight illuminated your face, he could swear that the stars also sparkled on your eyes. They must be from the tears you were desperately holding back, but either way, you were still so goddamn beautiful. He almost couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night and had to distract himself from looking at your lips, your collarbone, your chest, your curves…

“Fuck.” 

Talk about self-control. 

Satoru had none of that right now. His body reacted involuntarily to the thought of you last night. The sensual thought of you. The what-ifs.

What if he had wrapped your legs around his waist and enveloped your lips into a passionate kiss? 

He took a deep breath, still holding onto the wall as his other hand traveled to his growing member. 

What if he had carried you all the way into the living room and laid you naked on the couch? 

Closing his eyes, his hand started moving on its own, stroking his hardened cock and feeling every ridge as he pleasured himself. 

What if you had let him devour you? Let him roll his tongue on your entrance and taste your sweet, sweet flesh? 

Gojou let out a moan. A quiet yet desperate moan when he continued to jerk himself off faster and rougher. Damn it. He had to keep it low and he better not be heard committing such a sin in the bathroom. Although, he was confident that you were still sound asleep next to Sachiro in your bedroom, so he didn't think you would hear the noise he was making.

After all, it was shameless to know what was driving his feral thoughts right now. Thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Thoughts of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. Thoughts of your breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Faster. He would have taken you on all fours, too. He would have let you ride his hardened shaft. He would have pressed you against the sofa and put your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you for the second time around. He would absolutely love that. He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy. He would be at bliss watching your belly grow a few months after that, knowing that he had created yet another beautiful life inside of you. 

“Y/N…” 

Awakened by his senses, Satoru opened his eyes and saw the sticky white mess on his hand and on the wall. What the hell did he just do? More importantly, what the hell was he thinking of? 

No one should know about that. Not you, not even Akemi. He didn’t cheat on her, no. He didn’t do anything with you. That shouldn’t be counted as cheating. He didn’t even touch you. And he wasn't even officially dating Akemi.

No, no… 

Absolutely not.

Drowning into a pool of guilt, the first thing he did after that sinful shower session was to contact his supposed girlfriend not-girlfiend. And to make things even more awkward, you entered the kitchen in silence at the right time, carrying a sleepy Sachiro in your arms, unaware of the dilemma that was sending your ex-lover into a spiral.

“Morning,” he greeted almost inaudibly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee afterwards. He had to think straight. 

“Morning,” was your simple and oblivious reply as you went about your daily morning routine. 

Gojou, on the other hand, was typing on his phone because Akemi wasn’t answering his FaceTime calls. He had completely forgotten to update her all day because he had been a little bit too occupied the moment he landed in America. She must be overthinking why he hadn’t reached out to her until now, and he felt extremely awful and responsible for that, but she couldn’t be fast asleep that early, right? It was 7:00 a.m. in New York, so that meant it was only 9:00 p.m. back home. 

He nervously rang her number once more, mumbling a ‘please answer’ as he watched her caller ID appear on the screen. 

“Dada,” called Sachiro, looking at him as his mother sat him on the high chair to prepare his breakfast. 

Still holding his phone, Satoru walked to his son and placed a gentle kiss on his tiny forehead. “Morning, Sachi. Did you sleep well?” 

The toddler nodded at him, drinking milk from the baby bottle that he was holding with both hands. His eyes were wide and blue—quite the same hues of blue that would remind you of a clear sky. Satoru couldn’t help but pinch his adorable son’s cheeks. 

And while you were busy picking out food from the pantry, Akemi finally answered his call after the fourth attempt and showed her beautiful, soft features on the screen. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, how are you?” 

He could tell she was still a bit distant and upset because of what happened two weeks ago, when she claimed to have heard him say your name during his sleep. He already made an excuse for it as he also didn’t know why he even did it in the first place, but Akemi was still understandably hurt. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I’m fine, how are you?” she tiredly asked, seemingly heading towards her bed. “I just got home from work, that's why I wasn’t answering.” 

He could see, in the corner of his eyes, that you were glancing at him but he didn’t return it. All of his focus was on Akemi, feeling bad that he hadn’t exactly been a good partner for her lately. Especially after the shit he just did in the shower this morning, but that was a secret that was meant to be buried. “Alright, did you have dinner already? It’s morning here so I’m having breakfast.”

She offered a small smile albeit the visible exhaustion on her eyes. “I did. How’s Sachiro doing?” 

“You wanna see him?” He walked closer to his son, showing him on the screen as his big blue eyes stared at the woman on the other end of the line. “Sachi, say hi to Auntie ‘Kemi.” 

“Hiii~” Sachiro happily greeted Akemi, while the latter cooed at the sight of his son. She spoke to him with a gentle and motherly tone, weaving warmth and love into her words. It made his heart full knowing that Akemi would wholeheartedly treat his child as her own, because if there was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t, she knew that Satoru would rather let her go. His child was still more important than any other woman. And so if his future partner couldn’t accept the fact that he had a child with his ex-wife, then they shouldn’t be in his life after all. The case was different with Akemi because she was already your friend and she had the chance to see Sachiro grow up before Gojou even knew his son existed at all. It was a bit complicated, but things turned out to be easier on the part of acceptance. 

The only problem was you. 

Because by the time the call ended, Satoru could tell that you weren’t in the best mood as you ate breakfast next to Sachiro in complete silence. Your eyebrows were curled into annoyance, and yet your eyes held sadness in them, an expression that had become difficult for him to fathom. Were you jealous of Akemi? He assumed you would say no, but your expressions showed otherwise. 

“Y/N,” he called for your attention, hoping that you would look into his eyes for a little bit. Yet, not a chance did you do. “What’s our agenda for today?” 

You seemed irritated, if anything. You refused to look at him as you gave a curt reply. “I communicated everything you needed to know via email. You should have checked it instead of letting Miwa do everything for you.”

Jeez. You were definitely angry. “Okay.” He cleared his throat once more. “I just asked in case there was a last minute change.” 

“There isn’t. I would have said so if there is.” 

“Right.”

Satoru didn’t know how to act in front of his ex-wife anymore. Now that he had seemed to ignite your pique, he chose not to say anything else further as you two finished your meals and cleaned up after yourselves. The only time he spoke again was when he offered to bathe Sachiro so that you could focus on yourself. 

You agreed. 

And he did his part. 

It was simple give-and-take. A transactional relationship, if you must. Nothing else would blossom from that except your responsibilities as parents for Sachiro. 

——

The New York trip was already as awkward as it was. And it only just started. 

To be fair, it wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable if only Gojou had not decided to make it so. He was the one that made the atmosphere unpleasant by trying to savor every inch of closeness he could get to your skin, only to pull away as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t care about how it made you feel. He even had the audacity to lecture you on how to go about being good parents and setting a good example to Sachiro. Then suddenly, the next morning, he would act like such a loyal and caring partner to Akemi. 

The thought of his loyalty made you scoff on the inside. He should be the absolute last one to be saying that. He should be the last one to profess how much of a loyal man he was trying to be to his new girl. 

Besides, even before this trip was arranged, you had already made it clear on your mind that the sole purpose of going to New York was for Sachiro's sake. Any interaction outside the need to be there for your son would be unnecessary. He wasn’t someone you still needed in your own personal life nor did he need you in his. Your past relationship no longer mattered in this situation and all that was left was for it to be forgotten. But even with your resistance to be anything more than a parent to your son, Satoru still respected you. He still showed, even in little ways, that he cared about your comfort throughout the trip. 

Five days had gone by, and everything you did in New York had been smooth sailing, all thanks to his grand number of connections across the USA. In a short amount of time, Sachiro’s surname had been legally changed, and everything else concerning his birth certificate had been corrected. The only issue left to address was your son’s nationality since Japan doesn’t permit dual citizenship and Sachiro would have to carry a Japanese citizenship and the Gojou name to be able to inherit his father’s assets and multinational conglomerate. You would leave that one up for Satoru to deal with, but everything else had been settled on your end. 

Although this trip wasn’t exactly a vacation, Gojou insisted that you two still take Sachiro out to explore the city he grew up in. And you did so by going to Central Park, telling your ex-husband stories of how you used to bring Sachiro there in a stroller when he was still a little baby and that plenty of strangers, both locals or tourists, would coo at him the minute they took a peek at his adorable face. You also took him to the Empire State Building to get the best view of the entire New York City, and Satoru being Satoru couldn’t leave without taking a family photo with you and your son, capturing the beautiful urban cityscape behind you. You could see it in his eyes that even though he was happy to be there, he was also melancholic at the same time. Almost three years of his son’s life were spent in this famous city, without him, and it was as though the bitter memories of those three years for him were haunting him back. Sadness was reflecting off of his crystal blue eyes as he took a minute staring at the view of the city, reminding you that you were the reason why he had missed out on his baby’s first memories. 

If guilt could literally eat you alive, you would have been devoured. 

“Ready to go, Sachi?” Satoru asked your son, tucking his phone away after having (seemingly) sent Akemi a text message, probably updating her of where he was and what he was doing. In fact, he had been texting and calling her every now and then, as if he was doing his best to reassure her that he wasn’t doing any funny business with you. Has Akemi always been a possessive partner? Even with your years of friendship with her, she had never acted that way in her past relationship. So, was she only like that to Satoru specifically? You wondered if she would go nuts had she heard Satoru tell you how badly he wanted to make more babies with you on your first night here. 

Sachiro nodded, clinging to your hand while reaching for his father’s. “Dada, hand pwease!” 

Satoru did offer his hand, but mirrored the surprise on your face when your son tried to link your fingers together, urging you to hold each other's hands like a couple. You didn’t want to get too offended by it, but your ex-husband was the first one to pull away. “I, uh, made a reservation for us in Carbone,” he said, unable to exchange eye-contact, “Yuuta will meet us there.” 

“Oh, he’s in New York?” you asked, pretending you didn’t notice how he acted allergic to your touch and redirected your attention to your son. “Did you hear that, Sachi? Uncle Yuuta will come and see you.” 

Your little one was oblivious to the world, too distracted by the throng of people surrounding the place that he didn’t even notice how his parents were uneasy with each other. To say that you didn’t feel bad for your son was a lie, because it actually broke your heart. Even if you and Satoru were working on co-parenting and making sure Sachiro wouldn’t feel the gravity of a broken household, you knew that when he reached the right age, all of this would still have an effect on him. One day, he would still be asking questions about his parents. Questions about why you separated, why your marriage failed, and why you had to move to New York while his father stayed behind. It hurt. Deep inside, it hurt so much to know that your only son wasn’t given the chance to have a complete family and it felt like a failure on your part as his parent. 

You were sure that was what Yuuta thought, too. As you met with him at a fancy restaurant in the city, you could see how his face lightened up seeing his nephew bonding with his parents as if it were a family vacation. He must have known what it was like to have a broken household. In fact, he had lived in a toxic one before, but he still grew up to be a mature and dignified young man who never let the horrors of his family’s actions affect his rational thinking. So if there was anyone in the world who would sympathize the most with Sachiro, it would be Yuuta.

“Sachi,” he spoke to your son fondly, wiping the sauce on the toddler’s chin. Yuuta chuckled as he watched the little boy's grimace after being given a small piece of broccoli. “You don’t like vegetables?” 

You fixed the bib on your son’s neck. “He does, but he’s very picky with it,” you tell Yuuta, glancing at Satoru who was busy speaking on the phone with Nanami about what appeared to be matters concerning the company. “Wonder where he got it from.” 

“Right.” Yuuta’s eyes turned into moon crescents as he smiled. “I remember nii-san being a little picky.” 

“You hear that Sachi?” you teased your son, who looked at you with his cute puppy eyes. You knew that if you had the ability to peak through his toddler mind, it would actually be full of fried chicken. The thought made you laugh. “Don’t be like daddy, okay? Sachi needs to have his veggies so he’ll be strong when he grows up.” 

“But…” Sachiro pointed to his father. “Dada is stwong.” 

Satoru chimed in at the conversation after having finished the call, “That’s right, Dada’s strong. Mommy could barely even handle me.” 

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” You rolled your eyes, while Yuuta wanted to giggle, but chose to hold it back seeing the awkwardness of the situation.

Satoru shrugged and sat on his chair, eyeing the scrumptious dishes that were served to your table. He was acting like he hadn't been served more expensive meals before. “Have you tried the spicy rigatoni before? I heard it’s famous here.” 

You casually answered. “Yes. Toji used to bring me here every time he visited.” 

Look, you didn’t mean to overshare nor did you mean to make things even more awkward. You also didn’t mean to slap it in his face about how you were spending your years in New York with Toji. But Satoru, with his pride, took it resentfully. 

“Oh, really?” His words were the opposite of his voice. He was mirthless and full of unenthusiasm before changing the topic, redirecting his attention to his step-brother instead. “How’s Harvard?”

Yuuta eased the tension by making small talk, sharing details about his university life, and making sure he didn’t contribute to the growing tension. “I’m really just trying to survive this semester so I can go back home as soon as I graduate.” After taking a sip of his Cabernet Blend, he continued, “Like I promised, I’ll help you with the company.” 

You were happy, at least, to know that Satoru and Yuuta had fixed their relationship as step-brothers even after the whole incident with Nana, Eula, and their father. What used to be a relationship full of envy and competition finally became one that was full of mutual trust and support. Yuuta deserved that since he never once wished for his brother’s downfall, while Satoru also deserved to have a family member that had his back and helped him with the business without constantly fighting about inheritance. Because technically, Satoru was the sole heir of the Gojou family, and his dad only made it seem as though he would give it to Yuuta to make his own son comply with his orders. Satoru’s dad was controlling in that sense, and that was what led to all of this. 

But the present was more important. Things have changed and mistakes have been learned. It was all up to you on how you were going to manage your new life moving forward. 

Only, if only things were a little bit different on his side.

——

You had raised your son all by yourself for the last 3 years, so the presence of his father wasn’t really something you were used to for the longest time. How Sachiro acted around other people was solely a reflection of your teachings, discipline, and guidance as his mother. He didn’t really have a paternal figure up until now, and even if Toji was there to support your journey to motherhood, he never fully meddled with your mother-son relationship nor did he act like a replacement to Sachiro’s biological father. He loved him like his own, but respected the fact that the spot was reserved for Satoru. He knew that. He understood that, because he himself experienced raising a child alone without the presence of a mother. And if you asked him, he, too, would not want Megumi to replace the very love that he was supposed to have for his biological mom. Sure, Megumi could love and respect you, but Toji would still want him to save an unnegotiable spot for his mother in his heart. After all, she had birthed him. And in that same way, you had birthed Sachiro and created him with Satoru during your marriage. If there was anyone Sachiro should look up to, it had to be his father. 

And quite frankly, the father himself was doing an excellent job. 

But then again, remembering how hands-on Satoru was to you during your pregnancy, you never doubted that he would be a good parent. He may not be a perfect husband, but he loved his child with all of his heart and soul, and he would risk it all just to keep him happy. 

It was new to you how, throughout the trip, you didn’t have to take care of Sachiro alone. You and Satoru helped each other harmoniously, attending to your toddler’s needs and making sure he was being prioritized. You were glad. Truly. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t an absent father and that his words weren’t empty when he promised you that he would be a responsible dad to him. 

Though, at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he welcomed another child in this world? A child that didn’t come from you? Deep inside, it hurt you to imagine him neglecting Sachiro on the side the minute he welcomed a new baby with Akemi. The reality was, the father would always prioritize the child of the current wife, not the child of the ex-wife. He would still support him, sure. But would he still pay the same level of attention that he was giving Sachiro now? You would probably break in half if Sachiro was thrown to the agonizing realm of feeling like an outsider in his own family because no child deserved that. If Satoru had that experience first-hand, he should not subject his own son to that same feeling.

You would be selfish to say this, but you wanted to seize the opportunity while Sachiro was still his only son. Hiding him from his father was your fault—you had gone through that a million times and you weren’t shy at holding yourself accountable through that mistake. However, you were already doing your best to make amends and make up for the years Sachiro had missed around his father. He was Satoru’s first and only child, and therefore he should never fight for his father’s affection. You weren’t sure what Satoru’s long term plans with Akemi were, but if they were considering having their own children someday, you would never allow your son to be pushed back at the bottom of the family tree.

Sachiro was the true first-born son of Satoru. He should never have to fight for his position in his father's eyes.

And so on the night of your flight back to Japan, when Satoru asked if he could take Sachiro with him for the rest of the week, you had no problems in saying yes. Your only wish right now was for them to spend as much time together as possible.

“Where are you taking him?” you did ask in spite of your leniency to send your son away, waiting inside the car as the pilot and crew prepared the private jet. “Please send me the full address. I need to know where he’s gonna stay and—”

“You’ll get the details from Miwa,” he casually said, rubbing Sachiro’s back as the little boy slept on his chest. He didn’t bother meeting your eyes as he talked. “I’m just taking him to my vacation home in Osaka.”

Osaka…

That was where his mother isolated him from the rest of the world when he was having terrible episodes. Episodes that worsened after he had found out that you ‘terminated’ his child and abandoned him for good. Shoko once said that they felt like Gojou disappeared from their lives while he was there, because nobody else could reach out to him. They couldn’t visit him nor could they contact him for a year or so until he was mentally ready to come back to Tokyo. 

You didn’t want to pry on matters that were sensitive to him, so you chose not to say anything concerning his decision to take Sachiro to Osaka. He must have wanted to reflect on his past experiences, allowing him to heal from them as it brought him to the incommutable life he had now—life knowing that Sachiro actually existed after everything that he was made to believe. 

“Please take good care of him, okay?” It was only a reminder, nothing else.

Satoru kept a straight face, nodding before he planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I got it from here.” 

After a minute of silence, you both got out of the car and you watched him carry the peaceful Sachiro in his arms. You left the sleeping toddler a tender kiss on the cheek before parting ways. “I love you, my baby.” Stroking his hair, you kissed his tiny nose. “Mommy will see you soon.” 

Satoru knew that you were staying behind. You had informed him of your plans before you even came here to the airport with him, explaining that Toji would be in Miami and that you had made arrangements to meet with your fiancé there. Satoru didn’t say anything much about it either, simply nodding his head at your decision and telling you to ‘do whatever’ because he was no longer a husband you should report your plans to. There was no hint of jealousy in his stance, but you couldn't miss the flicker of bitterness that did appear on his eyes for a millisecond. 

You didn’t even say goodbye to each other as you watched them board the plane. And he didn’t even bother looking back at you to tell you to take care of yourself. Not that you expected anything from him, but a quick goodbye would have been nice since you did spend the last couple of days together. Or perhaps, he was upset about the fact that you were staying behind to meet Toji? 

Either way, you were on your own now. 

It took some time for you to reach Toji in Miami. He had insisted on meeting you at the airport, but because he had to meet with a foreign investor, you headed straight to the hotel he was staying at. Funny enough, you couldn’t help but compare how different it was to stay in the same accommodation as your fiancé vs with your ex-husband and son. With Toji, nothing felt uncomfortable and sharing a room as a couple was as normal as it should be, but things did feel too formal and too forced. With Satoru, it felt awkward to share the same space with him, but since your son was there, it felt like home. It felt strangely close to home, like it was only right. That staying together as a family was what your heart wanted. 

Ever since Satoru went back to Japan with Sachiro, you had been feeling a wave of separation anxiety. Your mind was always left wandering towards them; how they were doing, where they were, what they had for dinner. You wondered if Sachiro was giving his father a headache. Smiling at the thought, perhaps he was giving Satoru a hard time changing his diapers. 

“Everything okay?” Toji, noticing your trance, put an arm around you as you two sat at the VIP lounge of the Miami Grand Prix. This was Toji’s scene. If Satoru was a fan of horseback riding and polo, Toji preferred big time F1 races. He even personally knew the racers, the type of cars they were driving, and everything a huge fan had to know. You weren’t all that familiar with these things, so it was a little hard to keep up with his lifestyle. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you stammered, realizing how distracted you had been all this time. “What were you saying?” 

He drank from his glass of 30 year-old Macallan, downing the liquor like it was mere water. A cloud of disappointment settled over his features. “Not interesting to you, huh?” 

“No, I…” You made an effort to place a hand on his nape, giving him an apologetic peck on the lips. “I’m really sorry for zoning out. I was just… I guess I was just a little tired from New York.”

Toji placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “It’s fine. I was just trying to introduce the guys to you,” he said, scooting closer as he pointed to the racers. “You know that guy? Lewis Hamilton. He’s quite popular with the ladies,” then he moved his finger towards the other drivers, “And we got here for Ferrari, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc, also fan favorites.” 

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of Gojou’s favorite car brand. “Um, how about McLaren? Who drives for them?” 

Unsure if Toji caught on or not, he did take a minute before feeding into your curiosity. “Norris and Piastri.” 

You wished you had any idea about F1 so that you could be as enthusiastic as Toji was at this event. He was at his happiest right now and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a boring, uncultured fiancé, because frankly, all these women around would have done a better job at entertaining him. Toji was very eye-candy and you couldn’t blame these models from glancing up at him, especially with how manly and suave he was, dressed like a picture perfect example of an old money businessman. The likes of him were the prey of these desperate influencers, willing to sell their bodies in exchange for a night with him. But truth be told, that was their way of living and you could never find it in yourself to insult them. You didn’t want to shame them for attempting to climb the social ladder because that was how they view money and success, or at least a faster ticket to it. 

As long as they didn’t try to make moves on your fiancé while you were around, you wouldn’t be so bothered by a few stares here and there. 

Neither was Toji. He must have experienced being stared at during these events plenty of times before, and he probably even sent women home crying because of rejection or worse, humiliation. Now that you think of it, how did Megumi feel when his father was being hit on while watching the Grand Prix? Most importantly, why was the teenage son absent at this current event? 

“Love, why didn’t you bring Megumi with you?” you inquired out of a sudden curiosity, knowing that Megumi was always present next to his father during F1 events. 

Toji took a sip of the hard liquor once more. “He didn’t wanna go. He was giving me the silent treatment before I left for the US.” 

Confusion further blanketed your eyes. “Did something happen back home?” 

He let out a deep breath, his face signaling that he was deep in dilemma. “The Zen’in elders want to set him up for an arranged marriage,” he revealed, much to your surprise, “They wanna make sure he’s not gonna end up like me, married to someone who wasn’t ‘qualified’ to be my wife.” 

At first you were confused if he was referring to you, but you realized that he was describing his late wife. Megumi’s own mother, the only woman Toji had ever loved by a mile. He fought everyone for her, even turned his back on his own family for her, but claimed that he also ultimately led her to her demise because the elders of his family harassed her until the day she died. It was a tragic love, perhaps even more tragic than yours, so you somehow understood why Toji was conflicted about Megumi’s personal life.

But you? You were strongly against it. “I don’t support arranged marriages, you know that,” you told him with conviction, sympathizing for the poor boy, “It’s not gonna end well. You know what happened to me…”

“I know.” Toji’s eyes were filled with regret. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it unless Megumi himself tells me he has someone he loves.” 

“Did you ask?” 

“He’s tight-lipped about it.” 

You sighed. “Well, he’s a teenager. They get pretty shy about these things.”

Forcing a marriage was never a good thing. You couldn’t understand why the concept even existed because it didn’t benefit anyone aside from the people around the married couple. That was why they called it a marriage of convenience. They were married for everyone’s sake but themselves; family name, status, business… You have had enough of it. If only you realized it from the very beginning, you never would have subjected yourself to a loveless marriage with Satoru. Even if your love did grow eventually, things still didn’t work out for the best, and now your life was a mess. A divorced couple co-parenting their only son? There was obviously no convenience gained in that false marriage.

Megumi would just be wasting years of his life tied to a person he didn’t love and so you were hoping that Toji would fight for his son’s right. Because if he truly understood you, he would not subject his son to the same suffering you went through. 

“I wish my wife was here,” mumbled Toji, forlornly, “She’d know how to handle these things better than I do.” 

Were you not there for him? You swallowed your pride, hiding the pain in your voice. “Right…” A smile was all that you could offer. “I’m sure she would.” 

——

Something was different about Toji and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

It wasn’t his appearance, and neither was it the way he spoke to you. He was all the same except for one thing; the look in his eyes. 

He had told you this before. He said that the eyes carry the most truthful and raw emotion that you can see on someone. The presence of love would be visible in someone’s eyes just as you would see stars on a clear, night sky. The lack, however, would mean that the eyes are blank and empty like the dark void in the expanse of the universe. You didn’t have to be poetic to be able to discern the way his eyes communicated his most solemn feelings in spite of trying to show otherwise. 

He must have been tired. Being caught up in your back-and-forths with your ex-husband, having to put up with your pretentious co-parenting situation, and the never ending need to keep an open mind about your situation with the same man who had ruined you. When your heart was in pieces, wasn’t he the one who tried to fix it? Wasn’t he the one who remained by your side during your darkest times? 

Whether that may be true, whether he truly ever loved you, you could recognize the stark difference of the Toji that genuinely cared for you to the Toji that was only actively trying to be there for you. What had changed him all of a sudden? 

“Toji, you drank a little too much.” A weary sigh escaped your lips, pulling all your might to drag your fiancé to lie comfortably in your shared bed later that night. At least, on the way to the hotel room, you had his bodyguards to thank for. They were there to haul him while he was in his drunken stupor, letting you lead the way, and dumping him carefully to his bed because there was no way you would be able to carry such a muscular man all by yourself. Now that you were alone with him, you decided to care for him the same way you used to do when Gojou was coming home drunk at night. Starting with his shoes that you took off, his shirt that you unbuttoned, his pants that you unzipped. “Come on, love. I’ll get you changed.”

The verdant hues of his eyes weren’t present. They were hiding behind his lids, refusing to meet your gaze. But if anything, he did open his mouth to speak, “...You. You wanna know a secret?” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts, you reminded yourself. Of the numerous times Satoru had gotten drunk during the early stages of your marriage, it was how you found out that deep inside him, he did care for you. That in spite of his ill-tempered exterior, he was a man deprived of parental love and support. What would be the case for Toji, then? 

“Yeah?” You waited for his answer, slipping his shirt off and revealing his toned body. 

The scar on his mouth moved when he displayed a mirthless smile. He was as drunk as an alcoholic would be. “I don’t… think… I can love you the same way I loved my first wife.” 

Your heart paused. In fact, every heartbeat became heavy. You knew how he felt, but didn’t expect him to say that out loud. “I-Is that so…?”

“Absolutely,” he mumbled, chuckling inaudibly. He was at a point where he was too far gone to realize the magnitude of the words he was saying to you. “Even if you try your best, she was everything I wanted in life and the only woman I could ever offer my heart to. She’s irreplaceable, and I don’t feel guilty about it... because I know you’re still into Satoru, too.”

“That’s…” You held your breath, holding back the sudden tears that formed in your eyes. “That’s not true.” 

Toji wasn’t done yet, however. He still went on with his drunken speech like he was finally pouring out raw, yet hurtful words out of the bottle. “Who knows? You would’ve had him touch you back in New York if you didn’t have me. You would’ve had him impregnate you, have his second child with you, and guess what? He still won’t be loyal to you.”

The pain in your heart increased tenfold. Everything went still and every minute felt like a stab to your soul. Should you say something? Should you get angry at him? No, no you couldn’t. Your chest was tightening and you knew it was smart not to let such negative emotions overpower you. His words were just a little difficult to grasp because Toji never in his life had been callous with his words to you. The tears that fell from your eyes were from the betrayal that you felt after hearing the cruel words he had uttered. And yet, you tried to hold on to that thin string of hope that Toji’s words didn’t come from a place of truth. 

“That’s enough, Toji. Go to sleep.” You pulled away, swallowing the bitter taste of weakness in your voice. 

He hummed, unaware of the pain he had put you through. “The more I look at you, the more I realize how much I actually don’t want to spend my whole life with you,” he admitted, with little to no regard for your current feelings, “I can’t fill this emptiness by being with another empty soul. And if there’s one thing I’m most grateful for, it’s that I let you run away that day before I fulfilled my vows with you—”

“Enough!” You shot up from bed and wiped the flood of tears on your eyes. “Enough! I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear, okay?! Enough!” you raised your voice in despair, almost begging for him to stop tearing your heart asunder. “I get it! I fucking get it… so enough. Please, Toji.” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts.

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.

Alcohol is a truth serum. 

The revelation of Toji’s true feelings that night was a reminder to you that he was just like any other man. That you should have never put him in such a high regard, thinking that he would be the prince charming that would save the poor damsel in distress. Why? What would he benefit from someone like you? You only deluded yourself into thinking that a man like him would take a single mother so seriously. You were only meant to be a placeholder for his dead wife after all. 

A placeholder, certainly. Not even deserving to have the title of a wife.

——

There was a huge contrast between being with you and Sachiro in New York vs being with Akemi and Sachiro in Osaka. The difference? There was no awkward air between Akemi and him. They were free to do things as they will—no restrictions, no certain do’s and don’ts. They were happy to have each other’s company, minus the guilt nor the unease of being by each other’s side. If anything, Satoru bitterly assumed that you were having the time of your life in Miami with Toji. You were so keen to see the man back there before parting ways with your ex-husband and son like you were simply discarding them to the side. 

If so be it, then fine. Satoru had all the right to have his son all to himself while you were gone. Besides, Akemi was just one call away and she was everything he could ever ask for. She cared for Sachiro as if she was his own mother and Satoru couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t need to work on building a bond between her and his son. 

In fact, Akemi very much knew how to win Sachiro’s heart. As they took his adorable son to Universal Studios that day, she was nothing short of a caring mother. She had acted as a guardian to his son throughout the rides, letting the toddler enjoy his time at all the wonderful attractions that the theme park had to offer. Not once did his son cry too, so that only meant that they were doing a great job at taking care of him. 

Of course, it was a different story in the afternoon. After having spent all of his energy during the day, Sachiro had become tired and hungry by dinner time. But he wasn’t such a difficult kid to tend to, so Satoru was proud that his son still wasn’t throwing a tantrum even after a whole day of not having you around. 

“We’re gonna get Sachi fried chicken,” he enticed the pouting toddler, kissing his forehead while Akemi carried him in her arms. “Is that what you want?” 

Sachiro nodded and wrapped his little arms around his auntie’s neck. “Chicken, dada.”

Akemi smiled at the child’s gesture, tempting her to also place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so cute and well-behaved, Sachi.” 

“—Satoru?” 

At the familiar voice, all three of them turned to the woman standing behind like a deer caught in the headlines. She was tall for a woman, slender, and had long, auburn hair, rosy cheeks, and ivory skin. Next to her was a tattooed man with salmon pink hair, a piercing on his ear, and a very defensive stance. Ah… How timely. 

Sera and Sukuna. 

Satoru wasn’t sure if he should openly greet them, after all, they weren’t acquaintances. And it was only recent that he got his memories back, triggered by Sera's presence at the expo. Other than that, he had no business with the two of them. Sukuna wasn’t a business partner of his, so him and Satoru had no formal connection towards each other. As for Sera, she might be his ex-girlfriend, but they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship to begin with, so…

“Of all the places,” she mumbled, almost gaping at the sight of him. Her eyes then trailed off to Akemi and Sachiro, with which her expressions shifted to guilt. Did she recognize his son? Did she remember the horrible attempt she did to harm his child during his ex-wife’s pregnancy? The memory was flooding Satoru’s brain like a tsunami. Yeah, in that case, Sera should definitely be filled with guilt. She tried to kill this harmless child. 

He cleared his throat, now becoming protective over his son at the presence of his ex. “We gotta go—”

“I guess it’s true,” Sera spoke again, this time redirecting her attention to Akemi. “The rumors, I mean. It’s all just surprising to me considering how obsessive Satoru was to Y/N.” She paused, seemingly wanting to comment at her ex-boyfriend’s current relationship in a mocking way. She kept her eyes on Akemi only, while Satoru was left wondering why Sera was acting hostile towards her. What was her deal now? She wasn't in the position to be acting all entitled to Gojou anymore, but here she was, talking to Akemi like she had met her before. “Did you know? He sacrificed everything for her. No one else made him beg on his knees the same way Y/N did.”

He couldn’t even tell how Akemi felt while Sera was clearly taunting her with her words, but she still managed to smile and excuse herself, keeping Sachiro away from an environment that should only be between adults. It was ridiculous, surely. What was Sera thinking trying to subject his son around that kind of hostility? Balling his fists, Satoru turned to Sukuna and spoke to him man-to-man. “You’d better keep your woman entertained so she’ll stop meddling into other people’s business.” 

Sukuna, however, found the situation equally humorous. “Don’t worry. We both are entertained.” 

Making a spectacle of Satoru’s personal life? No wonder they ended up together. They were both pieces of shit. 

Before Satoru turned on his heels to follow Akemi, Sera still had one last thing to say to him. This time, she was more calm and less malicious—her eyes following Akemi’s trail before looking back at him, “Satoru, if you have truly grown as a man, you won’t do this to Y/N.”

——

Sachiro was fast asleep when they returned to the Gojou clan's vacation home. 

Meanwhile, since the night was young for the two adults in that house, Akemi and Satoru shared a passionate session in the living room downstairs, letting her ride him as he placed soft kisses on her collarbone. They tried to keep quiet, obviously, and all the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight illuminating their view. After a few more minutes into their lovemaking, they eventually met their climax and tried to catch each other’s breath, embracing her in his arms as she fell limp against him. 

“Satoru, I missed you a lot while you were gone.” 

“...Same.” 

Silence engulfed them for some time until she let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear in her facial expressions alone that she was pondering about the whole scene with Sera earlier. “That girl earlier, Sera, she—”

“Don’t mind her.” Gojou closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest. He knew he had to clear things up straightforwardly, leaving no room for any misunderstandings. “She just loves riling people up. It’s ironic she’s coming at Y/N’s defense now like she didn’t torment her back then. She’s not worth paying attention to.” 

“Okay.” Akemi pulled away, cupping his face and stroking his cheek. She also offered him an angelic smile while doing so. “But you don’t feel that way anymore, right? For Y/N?”

Satoru took a deep breath, but steadied the movements of his chest. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “No.” 

Her smile grew more relaxed as she pressed a light peck on his lips. “Right.” And for a while, they both stayed silent. His thoughts ran straight to you, while hers was quite on a different route. “Earlier when I put Sachiro to bed, he called me his mama.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh… he did?”

She answered with a nod. “I don’t know if he’s just half asleep calling for his real mommy, but… At that moment, it made me realize how much I want to have my own,” she hinted at him, wistfully staring at his blue eyes with her shining ones, “with you.”

——

You didn’t take the flight back to Tokyo. 

What you took was an immediate flight straight to Osaka where you knew your son and your ex-husband would be. You weren’t sure if it was due to the height of your emotions, but you surely let your impulse win the best of you this time. 

You just wanted to escape. It was for the first time in your life where you were dying to set yourself free from Toji’s presence, the very same person who you once likened to a buoy in an open sea. Now he was no longer that. He was far from that. He was an anchor pulling you down at the deepest part of the ocean. Needless to say, the pain was still fresh from your heart when you took the earliest flight back home after his drunken confession to you. 

Despite the many missed calls and texts and emails he had sent you, none of them were returned. None of them were seen, or read, or had been replied to. 

All you wanted to do was get to your son. Your son. Your only comfort from all the painful things that the world has thrown at you. If not for Sachiro, you would have long ended yourself. But because he was born in this world, because he relied on his mother for love and guidance, you had to be strong and you had to seek the comfort in your heart from him. 

They could all turn their backs on you, but never will your son do. 

And so, after a few back-and-forth emails with Miwa to confirm the address of Satoru’s residence in Osaka, you ignored the jetlag that was hitting your body and traveled straight to his place without a wink of decent sleep. Sachiro. Sachiro was all you ever thought of when you asked your driver to drop you off the park nearby the Gojou clan's residence as soon as you spotted your son's mop of white hair, him running across the small bridge and pointing towards a fish in the pond. Your son was happily calling all the fishes, gushing about them to Satoru who stood next to him. 

You didn’t even care at how you looked during that moment. You just wanted to get to your son and embrace him in your arms. He had been away from you for way too long and you had already grown pale and sick from the separation anxiety that engulfed your heart and mind. 

You had to have your son. You had to hold him.

“Sachi!” you called out, a smile present on your face as you made your desperate way towards the bridge. Your son looked at you the moment he had heard your voice, and was already skipping towards you with a bright smile on his face. “My baby!” 

Satoru’s face, on the other hand, turned pallid. His eyes were full of surprise, unable to believe that you were actually right in front of him. It was like he had seen a ghost. No, worse than a ghost. Why? Did he not expect you to come when he had let Miwa send the address to you? Were you not welcome to visit your own son? 

“Mamaaa!” Sachiro hugged you tightly, allowing you to attack his cute face with kisses all over.  

“Mommy missed you so much, my baby.” You could almost cry. As young as he was, he had no idea how much comfort he was bringing into your heart. Just to be able to see him, hold him, kiss him was enough for you to feel complete again. It was at your brokenness did you realize how much Sachiro could fix you whole.

“Y/N, I thought you…” Satoru paused, confusion seemed to be settling on his features as you looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be back by Monday.” 

For a moment, you were reminded of the reason you came home earlier than intended and it stung your heart to think about. “Change of plans.” 

A small scoff left his lips. “Don’t tell me you left Toji back there.”

I did, you wanted to say. Satoru had no single idea how true his words were, but that was none of his business and you had no plans of confiding in him about what had happened. You may be angry with Toji now, but you still respected him enough not to do terrible things behind his back. 

“I had to see my son,” you lied, although it wasn’t exactly one, and got up while holding your toddler’s hand. “Are you ready to go home with mommy, Sachi?” 

Reluctance clouded your son’s face, and he became more resolute at shaking his head the moment a woman’s voice called for him from afar. A woman, a very, painfully familiar woman came into view a few meters away from you. Standing there was your best friend, Akemi Hirai, looking at you with wide, mortified eyes as soon as she saw your presence. 

And in a snap, Sachiro ran to her. Your son ran straight to her, joyfully and excitedly as if she was his real mother. 

How many more heartbreaks do you have to go through? 

How many more tears do you have to hold back? 

“I…” Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was on the verge of breaking down. All this time, your son had been in this vacation home living like a happy little family with your ex-husband and best friend. 

Now, he even refused to go home with you. 

Gojou scanned through the look on your eyes as though he was reading your emotions, but you showed none of it. Not a single emotion could be seen on your face. Not an ounce of pain shown, despite seeing how your son immediately forgot about you and headed straight to another woman. How excited he was to spend more time with his dad and his new girlfriend. How, much to your discomfort, he refused to go back to Tokyo with you. You saw the future family Sachiro was about to have without you in the picture, and damn did it hit you like a truck. 

Why, why did everyone in your life choose others before you? 

“I’m sorry. I’ll bring him to your house Monday morning,” said your ex-husband in a soft, delicate voice, almost as if he was being careful with you. “We’ll take care of him.” 

You could simply nod, avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the vicinity except for Satoru. “Okay...” you struggled with words. Your entire body was shaking. The last thing you wanted was to sound like a selfish mother, but frankly, you were about to self-destruct. “Just keep him happy… that's all I ask.” 

Behind your mask of indifference, Satoru knew what right words had to be said. You needed reassurance, and that was exactly what he gave you. “I won’t ever take him away from you, Y/N. I promise.” 

You watched them walk away, leaving you alone with a look of sympathy that you didn’t need. Sympathy that you despised having received. This should serve as a wake up call to you that no one in this world would ever love you. That even your own child would, one day, abandon you. 

As tears fell from your eyes, you felt a certain pang on your chest that hurt worse than every other pain combined. “You know you’re not so good with promises, Satoru.” 

[thelostconsultant]

Sounds like a plan

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

note: Lando loves you. Now that it seems like he has a fantastic year, there's only one thing that can make it even better.

You were minding your own business as you sat on the couch with your laptop resting on your thighs, going through the script of the first episode of the second season. It was based on the book series you had written, your baby, so you only gave them permission to make the series if you had a say in how they adapted the story. So far there had been no arguments; you all sat down to make the outline of the season, discussing certain details, then the script writers got to work. Then the revision was up to you, the chance to give them your feedback and make changes if you felt like something just wasn’t right.

But this time you could barely focus because in the last ten minutes you could feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you. It’s not that he was busy scrolling his phone or watching the TV while looking up at you every now and then. No. He was staring at you without a break. “Lando, what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked when you had enough.

He looked taken aback. “I can’t look at my girlfriend?” You shot him a serious look which made him yield. “Okay, okay, I was just admiring the view… and thinking about something,” he added mysteriously.

“What would that be?” you wondered as you closed the lid of your laptop.

For long seconds he was watching you without an explanation, the only sound leaving his lips being a thoughtful hum. But then he took the laptop from you to place it safely on the coffee table, then patted his lap to make you sit there, straddling him the way he always loved to have you. With a small laugh, you crawled over to him and took your place, sneaking your arms around his neck before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Lando’s hands were resting on your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh as he held onto you.

Instead of spitting out what he’d been thinking about, he captured your lips in a kiss, smiling to himself when you returned it with the kind of passion he’d been missing so much while he was away. Spending so much time apart, either because he had a race weekend, or because you had to be in L.A. to work on the scripts, surely made him feel lonely sometimes. Yes, you did have video calls, you did send messages together all the time, but having you like this was always entirely different.

Now, he didn’t want you to drop the script supervision project, he knew that was important to you. But it would be nice if you could come to more races, maybe working remotely like you did now. And who knew, maybe he could go with you when you had to show up in the States. He just wanted to spend more time with you, and this need was growing with every single day that passed. So, as he thought about what to do or say, he came to the logical conclusion that maybe it was time to make you see just how serious he was about this relationship.

“I need to ask you something,” he began as he pulled away, one of his hands moving to cup your face. Even though you let out a questioning hum as if you were interested in what he wanted to say, you were still trying your damn best to lean closer and kiss him again. He could see the lust in your eyes, but as flattering as it was, he had something important to tell you. “Babe, pay attention to me, okay? Just a few minutes, I swear, then I’m all yours.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded and rested your forehead against his. “I’m all ears,” you said quietly.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to put his thoughts in order. “I love you. I could give you an hour-long speech about how much, but I hope you already know that. This year has been so amazing, you moved in, our car began to work, and I won races and had several podium finishes, and… I don’t know, even if I don’t win the championship, there’s one thing that could surely make this year almost perfect,” he said. He couldn’t help but smile when your eyes widened, giving away that you could sense where he was going with this. “Ending the year with the thought that you will marry me would be the cherry on top. What do you say?”

At first, you were just watching him in silence, your beautiful eyes still wide open, lips slightly parted from the surprise. He was beginning to worry, but then your lips curled into a smile, and you pressed your lips to his, kissing him so fiercely like your life depended on it. Though Lando truly enjoyed it, he knew this gesture wasn’t enough to make him loosen up, so he pulled away and gently grabbed your chin to make you focus on what he had to say.

“Use words, baby, I need to hear you say it,” he told you, his voice desperate from the need for the confirmation.

“This sounds like a plan. Let’s just elope and get married in peace, somewhere away from the crowds,” you told him.

Lando took a second to think about it. “I want a big wedding. I want to show you off, I want our friends to celebrate with us. But,” he added the second he noticed you were about to object, “I hear you, I know you’re right, so let’s elope first, and then we can start to organize a big wedding where we celebrate with our families and friends. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I love you.”

“I love you, future Mrs. Norris,” he replied with a short laugh before kissing you again.

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[yoongiseesawmp3]

anything but - jeonghan

summary: roommate!jeonghan. you thought living with your best friend, jeonghan, would be easy. fun. like a sleepover every night. but as he watches you struggle week in and week out with crushes that don't like you back or dates that never seem to go well, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: none rly, afab reader, unedited, sry

masterlist

jeonghan is ready to go to sleep. he had a long day, followed by a good, but tiring, night with friends, and he's been thinking about his soft sheets for the past two hours now. he's also been thinking about you, thinking about how happy he gets seeing your face light up when he walks through the door, but he knows he won't see that tonight. you're going on a date, dinner with some loser who's not him. he knows he could treat you so much better, but he can't just say that. things would get weird, and jeonghan can't afford the rent on his own. so selfishly, he keeps you and his feelings at arm's length. he's still thinking about you as he puts his key in the lock, wondering if he can stay up late enough to make sure you get home safe. when he opens the door, he changes his mind.

"what are you doing here?" jeonghan asks with a bit of anger in his voice, finding you laid out on the couch scrolling through your phone. "you told me you were going on a date tonight. did you cancel on him?"

"nope," you reply, popping the p as you sit up to stare at your roommate. "he cancelled on me. ten minutes before he was supposed to pick me up, actually, so i got ready for nothing."

that's when jeonghan notices the nice clothes you have on, your hair done up but mussed now that you've been laying on it. and, with a pang in his chest, he notices your makeup that looks smudged with tears. he knows you've been having dating trouble lately, and it's definitely been getting to you. but it makes his heart ache to think that you've been home all night crying over some loser who couldn't even bother to take you out.

"why didn't you call me?" he asks softly, joining you on the couch as he lifts your legs to lay them over his lap. he keeps a comforting hand on your calf as you explain, a slight tremor in your bottom lip as you say, "i didn't want to interrupt boy's night."

"baby, come on," he sighs. "you should have told me. you could've come to boy's night!"

"right," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "and hear all of them talk about their beautiful girlfriends and being so happy in a relationship? i'd rather eat drywall."

"we talk about other stuff," jeonghan laughs. "i told them about you getting us tickets to that soccer game and now i think they like you better than me. mingyu might be calling to see if he can take my ticket."

"never," you smile at him, sitting up and swinging your legs from his lap. "well, it's late. you're probably tired."

"eh," jeonghan shrugs, looking over you carefully to gauge if you're upset. "i could stay up a little longer, if you wanted to watch something."

"we're caught up on all our shows though," you pout. jeonghan sees an idea cross your face, so he asks, "what are you thinking?"

"nothing," you shake your head. "i remembered i didn't watch project runway last week, but you don't like that show-"

"put it on," he nods to the tv, looking over you one more time and noticing your clothes must not be that comfortable. "or you go change, i'll set it up."

"you don't know what episode i'm on though," you squint at him, and he shakes his head.

"nope, you're two weeks behind," he says. "i remember, because we went out the week before and you were ticked off that you were missing it."

"you pay too much attention to me," you mumble as you finally get up from the couch, jeonghan barely hearing you as he checks you out from behind. you're right, he does. too bad you haven't realized why.

when you come back from your room, you're wearing a hoodie that's seen better days and shorts that aren't quite doing their job. jeonghan clears his throat, trying not to stare, but when you sit down and put your legs back over his lap he can't help but skirt his hand over your skin, getting too close to your thigh without realizing.

"that tickles," you giggle, pushing his hand away. "you're annoying."

"ha, sorry," he laughs nervously, not sure what to do with his hands now so he reaches for the remote to press play. not far into the episode you curl up on your side of the couch, your knees tucked up beneath you as you lay down. jeonghan keeps an eye on you the whole time, attune to all your reactions and movements. he notices when you shiver, up in an instant to get a blanket.

"where are you going?" you call out, and he comes back wordlessly with the comforter from his room. he wraps it over you, using the rest of it to cover himself as he gets comfortable again. you find yourself dozing off, waking up every few minutes to see the progress on your favorite designers. you sleep through a whole section of the show, whining that you need to rewind, but jeonghan quietly explains what's happened and you're satisfied enough.

"do you want me to turn this off?" jeonghan asks after he sees your eyes closed again after you just complained about missing part of the show. you shake your head, not much of it visible outside of his blanket. you're noticing how nice his blanket smells, recognizing it as the same fresh scent that follows jeonghan around. it makes you feel at home, and that's part of what's making you so sleepy.

"i don't wanna go to my room," you admit shyly, feeling the tears from earlier just a moment or two away. "i'll stay awake, promise."

"do you want to sleep out here?" jeonghan asks, and you think about it for a moment. it wouldn't be the first time you had a little sleepover of sorts, both of you squished awkwardly on the couch or sleeping far apart from each other on someone's mattress that's been dragged out from one of your rooms. your silence decides it for jeonghan, and he says, "i'll go change, and then we can go to sleep." all you do is nod, getting comfortable beneath his comforter again as jeonghan slinks back to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

he comes back out and laughs to himself, your messy hair and scrunched sleepy face pulling at his heart. he knows someday he should tell you how he feels. he knows what you're looking for, and he knows he's perfect for you. it's just a matter of time before you figure that out, too.

-

a few days later, jeonghan was in the middle of a nap when he heard mumbling in the hallway and the sound of someone slamming doors. he was worried for only a few minutes, thinking it could possibly be an intruder, but as the mumbling gets closer to his door he knows there's a very frustrated y/n on the other side. he groans as he hoists himself up, shuffling to the door so he can peek out at you putting laundry away in the most irritated way possible. it's like you're trying to punish the towels for existing, and jeonghan can't help but laugh at the annoyed look on your face. it's cute, he finds himself thinking, but his chuckle pulls you from your dark thoughts and brings your anger to a new victim.

"what."

"nothing," jeonghan says defensively. "i thought someone was breaking in, you know, with all the banging around."

"shut up," you mumble, shoving the washcloths into the hall closet before slamming the door. you turn to your best friend and roommate, finger pointed accusingly, "i'm in a bad mood so don't piss me off."

"that explains the stress cleaning," he notes, and you ignore him.

"i'm going downstairs to put the dishes away," you grumble as you pass by him to get to the stairs, and he puts a timid hand on your shoulder.

"maybe do something that involves less breakables," he says coolly. "go punch a pillow or something."

"that's a good idea," you say, face lighting up slightly, and he laughs nervously as he finally asks what's wrong. "you remember that bitch of a dude who i was talking to a couple weeks ago?"

"gar bear?" jeonghan asks, and you roll your eyes.

"gary, yeah."

"what about him?" he asks, watching you unlock your phone and scroll to find something. you shove it into his hands, open to a very disturbing picture of a very ugly dick. "no."

"yeah. at three pm on a fucking thursday."

"stop making me look at it," he whines, pushing your phone back to you. "that's what made you mad?"

"yes!" you shout. "how did that thought process work? oh, this girl who i led on and then gaslit and then weirded out, she really needs to see my dick right now. it's the middle of the day! get a job! contribute to society!!!"

"why's he posing like that?" jeonghan asks, noticing more about the photo since you haven't locked your phone yet. "he looks so stiff."

"please stop," you say, but jeonghan sees a smile pulling at your lips.

"so what did you do?"

"i said 'what is your problem' and then i blocked him," you shrug, and he laughs.

"remind me to never piss you off," he says as he wraps an arm around you. "i'm sorry guys are assholes."

"i think i'm gonna become a nun," you mumble into his shoulder, staying in his hold maybe a minute too long. he presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head before letting you go, a blush on your cheeks that he takes pride in.

"you'd suck at being a nun, you're not nice enough," he jokes, and the way you glare at him makes him smile. "plus you fuck too much, aren't they supposed to be celibate?"

"forget punching pillows, i'm gonna punch you."

"sure baby," he chuckles, looking back at you as he walks downstairs. "you want food or something? i'll do the dishes. you just focus on not burning down the patriarchy."

"no promises," you mumble as you follow behind him. "but yeah, i wanna try this recipe i found the other day..."

it's over dinner that night that you realize how perfect jeonghan is. if only you could find a guy just like your best friend. someone who supports you, makes you smile, know how to get your heart to skip a beat. take, for example, his compliments. you like to joke to jeonghan that you need validation on your cooking, like tinkerbell, so whenever you cook for him the praises are nonstop. he's nothing if not supportive, so he tries to find things to comment on that he knows will make you blush. it works, and you do your best to tell him to stop without making it obvious that your heart is doing somersaults at his words.

this is what you want from a relationship, you find yourself thinking. you want to be comfortable with them, feel supported, all the things that jeonghan gives you. that night, you scroll through your dating apps, looking for a guy you think could meet those standards. in reality, you spend the whole night comparing the men on your screen to your roommate, subconsciously thinking of all the things you like most about jeonghan that these losers don't possess. you fall asleep like that, phone open to an empty chat, with jeonghan still on your mind.

-

so, a downside to living with jeonghan is you get the brunt end of all his weird energy. sometimes it's fun, and manifests itself in silly ways. like when you go thrifting, he takes it upon himself to find the weirdest thing in the store and insists on bringing it home. it means your apartment is decorated uniquely, but some of the stranger things you make him keep in his room. you haven't figured out yet that he only does this to make you laugh, loving how you smile sweetly at all the funny trinkets littered around your house. anything that goes into his room is eventually donated back to goodwill, its purpose served, doomed to delight another unassuming shopper some day.

other times, his weird energy comes out in worse ways. like today, he's not home, but you can feel that something's wrong. you know jeonghan is helping his friends with some video shoot, and he won't be home until much later. but there's a vibe in your apartment when you walk in. something is off, and it doesn't take you long to realize it. jeonghan has moved everything around, the couch where your kitchen table should be, the chairs from the table lined up in place of your couch. he's a strange one, your best friend, but it makes you laugh nonetheless, sending him a picture of the chairs and asking, "how am i supposed to fall asleep watching tv on this?!"

jeonghan smiles when he gets your text, shooting back, "watch tv in your room if you know you're just gonna fall asleep!"

really, he did the switcharoo for you to let your guard down. yes, moving furniture around is something silly that he would do, but he hid something further in the house that he wants you to find. he's hoping he'll be home when you do, but just the mere thought of your reaction has him chuckling. he goes back to whatever vernon wanted him to do, curious at each buzz from his phone, wondering if it's you.

jeonghan got the best of you, like usual. you did just go to your room, putting on one of your comfort shows so you could relax after a boring shift at work. you only get up to make a quick meal, dozing off again with the empty plate beside you. when the tv wakes you up you figure it's just time for you to go to bed, so you shuffle to the kitchen and notice a light coming from under jeonghan's door. he must have come home while you were napping, but it's late, so you go about your business. you drop your things off in the kitchen, returning upstairs to grab a washcloth and towel from the closet before you lock yourself in the bathroom. jeonghan is listening intently as you move around, waiting for the sound of the shower curtain pulling back and-

"JEONGHAN?!"

with sock clad feet that send him crashing through the now open bathroom door, he greets you with a shit eating grin. "you rang?"

"what the FUCK is that doing in here," you bellow, pointing at the plastic skeleton jeonghan found at the party store earlier that day. he thought it would be funny to hide in the apartment, at first just thinking about propping it up in the kitchen like the dead guy was making a meal, but the idea of scaring you a little was too good for him to pass up.

"man, when was the last time you cleaned your bathroom?" jeonghan jokes, "he must've been in here a while."

"fuck you," you spit, heart still racing from the surprise. that's when jeonghan notices something: you're naked. well, not entirely. like, you definitely don't have clothes on, his eyes flicking down to see your discarded panties and sleep shirt on the floor. he can't see the goods though because you're dangerously holding a towel over your body, one edge of it slipping as you reach out to try and punch jeonghan.

"what, you don't like him?" jeonghan pouts, stepping out of the bathroom to protect himself. "i thought you said you wanted to start decorating for halloween."

"this is not what i meant and you know it, you jackass," you try to say meanly, but jeonghan finds it cute. "it scared the shit out of me."

"i'm sorry," he says finally, hands twitching to reach out and grab you by the waist so he can rub comforting circles on your skin. but he can't. he physically shakes his hands out, a thing he does often enough to reset his mind that you look at him quizzically.

"why'd you do that?" you ask, and he clasps his hands behind his back defensively.

"felt like it," he shrugs. you roll your eyes and reach for the door, grumbling more expletives at him as you try to shut it in his face. "um, y/n?"

"what."

"you gonna shower with him?" jeonghan asks, pointing to your new friend. "i gotta admit, i'm a little jealous-"

"oh my god," you groan, grabbing the skeleton and throwing it at jeonghan with a comical clangor of plastic bones. "i hate you."

"love you too baby," jeonghan laughs as he closes the door for you, hefting the skeleton over his shoulder to go hide him in another corner of the house.

-

a few days later (jeonghan has hid the skeleton twice now), you come home from a date, dopey smile still on your face. you gasp when you see a body on the couch, thinking it's that stupid skeleton again. you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it's a snoozing jeonghan instead. he looks angelic, his soft features shining brightly even in the dark room, illuminated by the tv. you don't realize that you're staring, nor do you realize jeonghan is peeking at you, the sound of the door waking him up.

"hey," he calls quietly, startling you. "sorry. i can go back to sleep and you can keep staring."

"i wasn't staring," you say defensively.

"sure," jeonghan nods, checking you out. "you look nice."

"who's staring now?" you ask as you cross to the kitchen. "i went out to dinner, but the portions were too small. do you want something to eat?"

"no, i'm good!" jeonghan calls. "was it a fancy place?"

"what?" you ask, coming back into the living room with a bag of chips. "i couldn't hear you."

"where you ate," he clarifies. "you dressed up, the servings were small, must have been a fancy place this guy took you to."

"how'd you know i was on a date?" you pout.

"y/n, i know you better than anyone else," jeonghan chuckles. "it was obvious. how'd it go?"

"good," you nod, ears burning under jeonghan's close attention. "don't wanna jinx it though."

"ok," jeonghan nods. "well i'm glad it was a good date. you deserve one of those."

"how was your night?" you ask. jeonghan shifts on the couch so there's room for you to sit and join him. once you're settled he explains how his friend seungcheol had come over for drinks, but he left a little while ago.

"i think he's got a girlfriend and doesn't want to tell me," jeonghan says, "because he feels bad that i'm not seeing anybody."

"you want me to find you a lady?" you tease. "you know my friends love you, i'm sure it'd be easy.''

"no," he shakes his head so some of his hair falls in his eyes. it makes it easier for him to stare at you without you noticing. "i'm good."

"well, it's a standing offer," you say as you get up to return the chips to the pantry. when you walk back through the living room, you ask, "where's jack tonight? i'm about to shower, i don't want another heart attack."

"i put the skeleton in your bed," jeonghan smiles with an impish glint in his eyes. "i figured it would be a nice surprise for the poor sap you might have brought home."

"you're annoying."

"thanks!" jeonghan chirps, and you laugh before telling him goodnight. he watches you go, smiling at something on your phone. jeonghan feels a pang in his chest ever so slightly, but he shakes it off, turning the tv off before he goes back to sleep trying not to think about you.

-

the following week, you're acting off. jeonghan notices immediately, but he doesn't bring it up to you at first. he's not sure if maybe work is stressing you, or maybe you've got family stuff going on...whatever it is, he'll give it a day or two before he checks on you, knowing how you like having time to yourself before someone swoops in to help.

the reality is, you really like this guy you've been talking to. that first date was amazing, and you wanted to go out with him again as soon as possible. you talk all the time, always ducking into your room when he calls while you're around jeonghan. you're actually ignoring jeonghan a lot, which you feel bad about, but you just can't get enough of this new guy. even though you're talking a lot, it's hard to set up another date with him because you're both busy with work. you've got plans to hang out on sunday, and for the first time in a long time, you're excited for a date. not nervous, not dreading it, just pure schoolgirl crush excitement.

that's why it's so crushing when, a few hours before, the guy texts you and cancels. you play it off at first, asking when he's free to reschedule, but his response is basically telling you to get lost. it hurts your feelings more than it should, because he is just some loser dude, but you also didn't know him that long. you have no reason to be so devastated over this, but you are.

jeonghan knew about your second date with this guy, so he made plans to be out of the house for as long as possible on sunday. as selfish as it was, he didn't want to be there for the giddy getting ready (you always ask him for outfit advice and he always tells you that you look great) or for the nervous pacing while you waited for the guy to pick you up (jeonghan always distracts you with jokes to calm your nerves). he also didn't want to be there after the date, if you happened to bring the lucky guy home. so he's out running errands, bothering his friends, and killing time until he's sure he won't walk in on anything he doesn't want to see.

when jeonghan gets home, it's late. after his day of farting around he went to his friend wonwoo's apartment for a while to heckle him while he played video games, and wonwoo finally kicked him out.

"don't you need to go home to your girlfriend?" wonwoo had teased, and jeonghan kicked him from his spot on the couch.

"y/n's my best friend and my roommate."

"so basically your girlfriend," wonwoo smiles that little smile of his, and it annoys jeonghan.

"she doesn't think of it like that," jeonghan mumbles, looking for his phone so he can head home anyway.

"because you're being too subtle."

"i'm not trying to be anything!" jeonghan says defensively. "i don't want her to know."

"why not?" wonwoo asks, finally turning to look at his friend. "you afraid she'll say no? because we all think-"

"i'll see you later, ok?" jeonghan says quickly, his shoes barely on as he tries to unlock the door. "hope cheol doesn't kill you again."

"in his dreams," wonwoo mumbles, his attention effectively back on the game and off of jeonghan.

jeonghan comes home to a mostly dark apartment, the stove light in the kitchen the only indication that you got home before him. he stops at the door to make sure there's no...unpleasant sounds coming from elsewhere, and when he's met with silence he kicks his shoes off carefully before heading to his room. he's exhausted, hiding from you all day being a good way to wear a person out. when he passes by your room something catches his ear, and his heart stops. were you moaning?

jeonghan knows he shouldn't, but he presses his ear against your door, telling himself he's only doing this so he can decide if he needs to stay somewhere else tonight. he's waiting to hear another voice, a man's voice, but he's met with a quiet whimper, followed by some sniffles. his heart roars back to life hearing that, almost breaking to pieces when he realizes you're not moaning, you're in your room crying. he's opening the door before he knows what he's doing, and you jump out of your skin at the unwelcome intrusion.

"go away," you whisper. jeonghan ignores you, coming to your bedside and looking down at you with concern in his eyes. "jeonghan, please. go away-"

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you don't say anything. "what did that asshole do?"

"nothing," you sniff again, willing your tears to stay back as you try to appease your roommate long enough for him to decide you're fine and leave you alone. "h-he was bu-busy and had to cancel-"

"fuck him."

"yeah, whatever," you say shakily. "it doesn't matter. i'm fine. now leave. please." your eyes are closed, trying to hide the tears that are welling up, and jeonghan is so quiet you assume he left, but he's trying not to let his own emotions show as he calls your name.

"y/n," jeonghan whispers, and when you look up at him you can't help it. you start crying again seeing him so upset over you being so upset, and before long you're back to bawling your eyes out. you barely register jeonghan cooing softly at you, climbing into bed and scooping you up into his arms. his lips are pressing soft kisses up and down your hairline, and it makes you cry even more. this is what you want, you think. this is what you need, what you've been missing. you want a boyfriend that will care for you like jeonghan does, that will be there for you like jeonghan is. it physically hurts you to think that you may never have that, that there's a possibility you'll never feel that kind of romantic love from someone. and you want to say that, you want to tell jeonghan why he came home to you pathetically crying so much, but he doesn't care. he just wants you to stop, so he'll hold you in his arms whispering sweet jokes to you until there's no more tears. he gets the slightest smile out of you right before you doze off, hands bunched into his shirt holding on for dear life. jeonghan holds you tighter, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your snotty nose before he drifts off to sleep with you.

-

you wake up later, not quite in the morning, but a few hours have passed. you're not used to sharing a bed with someone, especially when that person has such a vice grip on you as jeonghan does. once your mind has registered that you're awake, you also feel the burn of someone's eyes on you. sure enough, when you peek into the darkness of your room you see jeonghan staring back, eyebrows creased and teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

"stop chewing your lip," you tell him, reaching out to tug it from between his teeth. "i'm fine. you don't need to worry about me."

"wrong," he replies, watching you intensely as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. the quiet that follows has your face heating up, and the heat spreads through the rest of your body. it feels like every point where jeonghan's body is pressed against yours is on fire, and you want to pull away. but you don't.

"why aren't you in your room."

"because i wanted to sleep here," he replies. "i hope that's ok."

"it's not-"

"bummer," jeonghan cuts you off. "i'm not leaving."

"i'm not crying anymore though," you point out. "so. i'm fine."

"nope," he shakes his head. his bangs fall back into his eyes, and you think briefly he must need a haircut, but you hope he doesn't get one. the long hair suits him, even if it keeps him from seeing sometimes. you don't think about it, your hand unclenching his shirt and instead reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. jeonghan watches you carefully, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you look back down to his eyes. he's staring at you so intensely you can feel it in your chest, and that's when it hits you: jeonghan. you want a boyfriend like jeonghan. well! jeonghan's right here! what are you gonna do about it?

"jeonghan, i..." you trail off, staring at him like you're seeing him in a new light. he waits patiently for you to go on, thinking you might explain the situation a little more, but you don't know what to say. you just get hit with the intense need to bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat as you fall back asleep.

"what?" he asks, trying to encourage you to keep speaking.

"um, can i just-" you try, but instead of speaking you just nuzzle into his chest, nose at the base of his neck tickling his skin. "i want to go back to sleep."

"then sleep baby," he whispers as he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go. as you fall asleep, you let your hands relax against his chest, one of them laid right over his racing heart.

-

the next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and almost convince yourself you dreamed up jeonghan last night. like an oasis in the desert, he came to you when you needed him most. a little part of you wishes it wasn't real so you could go back to a time where you didn't know your true feelings for jeonghan, but your mussed sheets proves it wasn't a dream. jeonghan's scent is still lingering on your extra pillow, and you take a deep breath and remember how it felt to be wrapped up in your best friend.

jeonghan comes back into your room with two coffees in hand and he sees you nuzzling your face into the spot where his head laid just minutes ago. he lets you wallow for a moment before he calls your name softly. you jump up, cheeks warming as you look at jeonghan in your doorway.

"morning," he smiles. he hands you your coffee, your cold hands brushing his and sparking warmth across his skin. he stops himself from leaning down to kiss your forehead, knowing that whatever intimacy you shared last night is probably left in the past. you were sad, and jeonghan was there to comfort you. he'd happily do that a million times over, but he doesn't think you feel the same way he does.

"jeonghan, i'm sorry about last night," you try to apologize, but he shakes his head.

"don't," he stops you. "i would do it again if you needed it."

"well if you find me crying over some loser again tonight you have full permission to slap me," you tell him. "one night was enough."

"noted," he laughs, awkwardly standing in your room, unsure if he can get back into bed with you. you pick up on the way his eyes keep flitting from you to his spot, and you pat the empty space so he'll sit down.

"stop being weird," you say, bumping shoulders with him once he's comfortably next to you again. "so how'd you sleep?"

"pretty good," he starts out, "but there was this really annyoing sound coming from your side of the bed?"

"oh you mean me crying?"

"no, like this really loud, obnoxious snoring, kinda like-" jeonghan starts demonstrating, sending you into a fit of giggles and a pushing match to get him to stop.

"i think that was you!" you shriek, carefully trying not to spill your coffee. "don't spill that in my bed, i'll kill you."

"and then who are you gonna cuddle at night?" jeonghan asks, regretting it when he feels the tension between you both.

"i could always cuddle with jack," you joke to break the awkwardness, and jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"i hate that you named the skeleton."

"the skeleton is a guest in our home," you tease him. "show him some respect."

"whatever, freak," he says before downing the rest of his coffee. he gets an idea then, turning to you to ask, "what are you doing today?"

"um, nothing except work," you reply. "but you know my job is barely real so i'm basically doing nothing."

"let's go get coffee," jeonghan says, a playful look in his eyes.

"we just had coffee," you point out.

"no, no, we'll get good coffee, you can do some work, i'll watch you do some work, it'll be great," he insists, getting up and pulling you out of bed with him.

"if you're still trying to cheer me up i swear i'm fine," you say through your laughter, pressing back against jeonghan trying to push you toward your closet. "you don't need to take me for coffee or do anything else to make me feel better. i'm fine now."

"glad to hear it," he smiles softly, squeezing your hand that's clasped firmly in his. "but i still want to get coffee, so get dressed or everyone at the cafe will see you in that god forsaken t shirt."

the t shirt in question is one that jeonghan found for you during one of your goodwill visits. for whatever reason, it says 'i shaved my balls for this' and it got the biggest laugh from you all night, so jeonghan had to bring it home. despite being awful colors (light blue paired with neon yellow) it's actually quite comfortable, and you love the way it makes jeonghan laugh every time you wear it. it's unironically become your favorite sleep shirt, but you are mortified at the thought of anyone aside from your best friend seeing you in it. you quickly change, grabbing your work laptop from your desk before you head into the living room to find jeonghan waiting for you.

it's not unusual for him to take you out on random adventures, but this one feels different. he stays closer to you than normal, insists on buying your drink, and you catch him actually watching you work.

"get a hobby," you mumble, looking down at your laptop so he hopefully won't see your blushing cheeks.

"this is my hobby," he says. "i'm hanging out with my favorite person."

"seungcheol's going to be very sad to hear he's been demoted," you tease.

"he knows where he stands," jeonghan says, still watching you intently. you can't take it anymore, staring back at him.

"seriously, pretend to read or something! you're distracting me."

"i'm distracting you?" he smiles. "why? i'm not doing anything."

"i'm sending this email and then we're leaving," you say, and he shrugs.

"if you want, baby."

baby. it hits you harder this time, jeonghan's silly little nickname for you. you thought it started off as a sarcastic thing, but recently you feel like it sounds sweeter and sweeter coming from his lips. after last night, it makes your heart skip a beat, and that's when it hits you: are you on a date with jeonghan right now?!

"wait. waitwaitwait. hold on," you say, pointing at jeonghan and then yourself. "is this a date? are we on a date?"

"what? no baby," he shakes his head, and now you're confused. "no, if we were on a date you'd know."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you squeak out.

"do you want us to be on a date right now?" jeonghan counters, and you know your blushing cheeks have you in trouble. "you do?"

"i-i don't know-"

"hm, you wanna go on a date with me," jeonghan says matter of factly. "well, that's good to know."

"what are you doing?" you ask as he starts cleaning up his space.

"oh i need to go back to the apartment," he says. "gotta get my laptop so i can start planning a date that's worthy of you. i'll see you at home?"

"jeonghan, what?" you're left sputtering as he heads to the door, not looking back even though he knows your staring. he's afraid you'll see the excited/nervous shake in his hands, so he needs to go cool off. well, that and plan the best date of your entire life. he's got a lot of ground to cover. thankfully, the idiots you usually grace your time with have set the bar pretty low. jeonghan is determined to bring it higher, so high in fact that you won't be able to go on another first date without comparing it to his. if things go right though, maybe you won't have to go on a first date ever again.

-

jeonghan left the coffeeshop before you, so it would make sense if he was at the apartment when you got back, right? wrong. you come home about an hour later to an empty home, no sign of jeonghan. you think that's fine, it gives you a chance to actually get some work done. but jeonghan being mia has you a little nervous. what's he doing? he said he was going to plan a date. for you. and him. you and jeonghan...on a date? that's crazy.

you've done a good job ignoring that whole concept, trying to get ahead on a project you need to present later this week. you're so hyperfocused that the whole day goes by before you realize it, and when you finally emerge from your room you really expect to find jeonghan in the living room. he's still gone, so you decide to text him, asking casually if he would be home for dinner. the domesticity isn't lost on you, and it makes jeonghan smile when he gets it. he decides to call instead of texting back, balancing his phone against his shoulder and his cheek once you pick up.

"you miss me or something?" he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"i was just curious," you reply nonchalantly. "you've been missing all day."

"i've been busy."

"oh ok."

"i'll be home soon though," he tells you. "don't make dinner, just make sure you're dressed in an hour."

"for what?"

"a surprise."

"i need more information and you know that," you scoff, and you hear jeonghan chuckle.

"dress nice, but not fancy. and wear something blue so we'll match," he explains, and you feel your cheeks warm. "i gotta go, but i'll see you soon, baby."

hearing that coming from jeonghan now makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes you wonder if you've always felt like this and you just didn't notice. you keep thinking about him as you get ready, steaming out a dress you were planning to wear on a date that didn't happen. it's a soft blue with long sleeves and a low tie in the front. you worry for a moment that it might be too revealing, but checking the time rushes you into action. you're almost ready when there's a knock at the front door, which you ignore. there's another knock, this time louder, so you grumble your way to the living room to peek through the peephole. you gasp when you see what's on the other side.

you throw the door open, revealing a visibly nervous jeonghan with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. he's wearing a blue shirt, almost the exact shade of your dress, and he openly stares at you with a happy smile and a look in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"jeonghan?" you ask, pulling him from his intense focus on your chest.

"y/n," he smiles, eyes flicking up to yours. "you look stunning."

"i'm not ready yet," you pout slightly, checking the time on your phone. "you weren't very specific about when you were coming home."

"you look perfect," he says, checking you out again. "what else could you need to do?"

"wouldn't you like to know?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"i can give you ten minutes, but any longer than that and we'll be late."

"late for what?" you ask as he passes you the flowers. "these are beautiful by the way, carnations are-"

"your favorite, i know," he smiles softly. "you buy yourself a bunch almost every time you're at the grocery store."

"i can't remember the last time someone bought me flowers either," you mumble, opening the door enough for jeonghan to come inside. "what are you still doing out there? it's your house, come in."

"finish getting ready," he laughs at you, reaching for the flowers again. "i'm putting them in a vase, weirdo. you'll get them back when you're done getting pretty."

"i'll be back," you whisper, running off before he can see how nervous you just got. you try to calm your nerves as you finish your touch ups, panicking last minute over which shoes and purse go with your outfit.

jeonghan is sitting on the couch, your flowers in your favorite vase on the coffeetable. he perks up at the sound of you shuffling down the hallway, but he pouts when he sees you holding up all your shoes.

"y/n, we're gonna be late."

"i don't know which ones to wear," you say simply, and he smiles as he comes up to you, analyzing the choices. he picks the white shoes and the white purse.

"glad we're still keeping this tradition alive even though i'm the one taking you out this time," he says proudly, watching you get situated. you stand back up, mussing your hair one last time before he asks, "ready to go, beautiful?"

"i don't know why i'm so nervous," you tell him, taking his arm as you leave the apartment. "we hang out all the time."

"yeah, but this isn't us hanging out," jeonghan says as you wait for the elevator. "i'm taking you on the best date of your life. nerves are completely valid."

"are you nervous?" you whisper, leaning in so jeonghan gets a good whiff of your perfume that he loves finding traces of all through his life. he holds your gaze, eyes flicking down momentarily before he shakes his head.

"no, i thought i would be, but i'm not," he replies simply as you get on the elevator.

"ok good, so i'll just freak out for the both of us then."

"would you? that takes a lot of pressure off of me," jeonghan jokes, and you pinch his arm. "ouch! so mean to me when i've made the perfect night for you."

"and what does this perfect night entail?" you ask. jeonghan just shakes his head, leading you out into the lobby of the building. he takes you a different way, not walking to the parking garage but instead to the main entrance of your building. "jeonghan, are we walking there? i don't think i can make it in these shoes-"

you stop mid-sentence, spotting the shiny baby blue mustang convertible parked outside. you look at jeonghan, mouth open in surprise. he has to tug you down the hallway and out into the cool night air, helping you into the passenger seat with ease. you watch on in shock as he gets into the driver's side, finally cutting through the fog in your mind to ask, "do you even know how to drive this?"

"yeah," jeonghan says coolly, opening the glovebox to hand you a scrunchie of yours that he stole. "here, you might wanna put your hair up."

"you're insane," you tell him, playing with the scrunchie in your lap as he starts the car. you can't believe this so far, and the date's barely begun. what other surprises could he possibly have in store for you?

-

after a quick ride out of the city, you find yourself at a retro drive in that's completely empty. you have a sneaking suspicion jeonghan rented it just for the two of you tonight, but you don't have a chance to ask. once he parks, he's asking you to open the glovebox and you smile when you see the stack of movie theatre candy boxes he's stashed away. you take them out, turning back to jeonghan to see he's produced a tub of popcorn from somewhere and a couple of your favorite sodas. you stare at him with your mouth opening and closing like a fish and he just smiles proudly in return.

"jeonghan, what did you do?" you finally ask, and he laughs.

"do you like it?"

"what are we doing here?"

"watching a movie," he says obviously. he shifts the snacks, the drinks going into the holders by the radio and the popcorn and candy going on the dashboard. "come closer," he mumbles, tugging your arm. the smooth vinyl of the seats sending you flying into jeonghan's side, and you giggle nervously as you adjust your dress. jeonghan lays the snacks out over your laps and drapes his arm across your shoulders for good measure. he looks at you to gauge whether you're settled or not, and when he decides you're ready he presses on the horn once. the screen in front of you lights up, and you gasp as you see the opening credits for your favorite movie flashing before you.

"where did you get the idea to do this?" you ask him with a smile, taking a few pieces of popcorn to give you something to do with your hands.

"just thought it would be something different," he shrugs, and you leave it at that. you can barely focus on the movie, hyperaware of how warm jeonghan is next to you and how every glance he casts your way sends your heart racing faster and faster. a few minutes into it, you remember your hair is still tied up from the ride, so you shuffle out of jeonghan's grasp to pull the scrunchie down and reset yourself. you know jeonghan is watching, so you mumble, "watch the movie, weirdo."

"i've seen it before," he whispers back, eyes still heavy on you. "i'm not missing anything."

"you've seen me before too," you point out, leaning back into his side once you're done moving around. "quite a lot, actually."

"yeah, but i've never seen you on a date before," he says. "and on a date with me? whoa. i gotta soak it all in."

you turn to look at him then, admiring the way his hair falls so slightly into his eyes, the way his lips stretch over his shy smile, how his eyes glisten when they meet yours. you could kick yourself for not noticing any of this sooner. who knew you had exactly what you were looking for right here?

"jeonghan, i-" you start, but realize you don't have the words to tell him what you want to say. you stop, staring at him with your brows furrowed cutely.

"what, baby?" he laughs, his thumb coming up to trace the creases in your forehead. "you're gonna give yourself premature wrinkles like this."

"why are you doing this?" you ask quietly. "why are you so...wonderful? all the time?"

"because," he shrugs, his hand falling from your forehead to rest just below your chin. "i've been trying to show you what it would be like. took you long enough to come around."

"show me what?" you ask confused.

"what it's like being loved by me," he smiles back. you feel your breath catch in your throat, and you want to say something. you want to tell him how you feel, how you're sorry it took you so long, how you love every moment you spend with jeonghan by your side. instead you just lean forward, lips brushing over his. you bring your hands up to his neck, wrapping them in the soft hair at the back of his head as you scoot impossibly closer and try to press all your love into this one kiss. jeonghan keeps his hold on your chin, thumb stroking softly at your cheek. he's the first one to pull back, laughing when you try to bring his lips back to yours so quickly. he leans his forehead against yours, soft hair tickling your skin as he asks, "so you get it now?"

"yeah," you nod, knocking your heads together and sending you both into a fit of giggles. jeonghan steals a few more kisses, and when you finally calm down he pulls you back into his side, squeezing you as close to him as possible. you lay your head down on his shoulder, pressing your lips into the closest part of him you can reach. "thank you, jeonghan. my jeonghan."

"my y/n," he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "my beautiful, kind, funny girl."

"stop staring," you whisper bashfully. "you're missing the movie."

"i'm not missing anything," he repeats, but he takes one last look at you before he kisses the top of your head and finally turns back to the screen. this might be your first date with jeonghan, but it certainly won't be your last.

[romanoffsbish]

The Tournament

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha was never one to shy away from a challenge, and your body paid the ultimate price. | WC: 1,254

Smut: Lengthy (10hrs 😉) | Taped | Mommy (N) | Oral (Both) | Fingering (N) | Spanking (N) | Overstimulation (R) | KO (R) — | — 2nd lil blip - Masturbation (R) | Promises of Oral | Teasing

Natasha was exhausted.

It had been ten hours of this. On and off

Mostly on, and you, well you were not cognizant.

——

The redhead had mistakenly read one of Tony's world record books, it was a gag that he childishly bought. In the section dedicated to fornication she had read that the longest "episode of sex" to have been recorded, with no change in intimacy partners, was five hours long. So of course, Natasha Romanoff, the competitive devil, took the challenge on to double it, ensuring that no one (human-wise) ever beat her record.

You knew when you met her on the battlefield that she was an overachiever. It was the way that she had been graceful the entire time she choked the enemy with her beefy, as well as soft, thighs. To the now, where she fell beside you with an arm that held no functionality. All of the adrenaline faded and she huffed a tired chuckle.

What a night it had been she mused within the hollow confines of her dimming mind. Though sore she was able to get out of bed and work to clean you up. The moment you two had hit hour eight you were snoring. Natasha admired the way your body convulsed with every sleep time orgasm, even if you couldn't feel it, you were having the time of your unconscious life.

The you of the morning will be gobsmacked and in some way turned on. Your vagina that should be in ruins would likely pulse with a sharp, painful need. For now though she settled your core beneath a pair of fresh panties and slipped you up the bed and onto the pillows that were designed for you. Then she cleaned up the room of any evidence. She took the toys down to the small, second kitchen you had and tossed them into the designated dishwasher. Then she finished off the tray of peanut butter sandwiches she'd made for the nights necessary fuel station. She also had vodka, and an assortment of chocolate and fruit to munch on.

The rules of the book stated that breaks that lasted less than three minutes were ebbed into the flow of things.

Natasha was terrified to let you down, and by you she meant her very annoying sense of pride. Which is why the night started off with you in the captains position. Your soft lips painted her skin a lovely blend of maroon and lilac, the blue to forge a galaxy would come later.

The way she mewled for you felt pornographic, and then you remembered she had planned to record this for proof. You shakily agreed so she set up five cameras around the room. At each two hour mark when she stopped to drink some water or bite into a peanut butter sandwich she'd stop the one and start the other when she was back. Each clip got a different angle, each with their own feature and timestamped to the second to further prove the breaks weren't prolonged.

Natasha nearly killed you when her knees locked behind your head; but you didn't mind. You whispered a prayer against her pussy that she'd hopefully find you in paradise one day, then she came with a miracle on the dancing tastebuds of your tongue. Oxygen filled your lungs just as it excavated hers, the both of you spluttered as you choked on her slick, and she forgot how to breathe in place of the dizzying pleasure.

Thirty minutes down, but you were far from tired. It showed in the wild irises Natasha's soft emeralds met. Whenever you looked at her like that she lost all of her sense of authority. You'd flipped her over and fingered her while backhanding and palming at her smooth ass. Natasha grunted at each slap then moaned at the thrusts, it was husky and made your body tremble.

Natasha chased every single high you offered her, and she was near to losing count when you slowed down. You'd made it to hour three, and that's when the need to rest began to set in. Natasha saw it, and flipped you over so she could take over. You'd lasted longer than anytime before in one straight session and she was so incredibly proud, but more importantly turned on.

"Fuck Y/N," she panted against your cheek as her fingers slid through your slick folds. "You made me cum eight times and my pussy is still throbbing as you moan in my ear." Her lips lowered further, hot breath tickled your ear and you giggled breathily. "Keep going my sweet girl, you're in for a long night so keep it up."

You did your best too, entertaining her with answers to her filthy questions, moaning and thrashing as she found a new way to get you to your new best orgasm, but then your lethargy began to set in once again.

At hour six Natasha had sat your limp form up and nourished you back to life within the time constraint. Offering you a bit more enjoyment before the eventual KO took place. Your cries turned into whimpers, then choked moans until the sound of skin slapping and slick sliding was all she could focus on as she thrusted.

There was no time to feel any aches when focusing on keeping your body mindlessly jolting so Natasha built up her mental walls and in the long run gave herself carpal tunnel. In the end she felt it was worth it, as she won the fictitious title of "longest sex (love making) session ever recorded," and then she found you three days later after coming home early (at midnight as opposed to 7am) with your fingers inside you as your eyes were transfixed on her head between your legs.

"Wanna make a new record?" You jumped up and held your slick hand out in front of you to stall her request from happening, but all the redhead did was lunge and take your fingers into her greedy mouth. She moaned at the uniquely tangy taste, but her eyes creased in contradiction as your slivered nail scraped her palate.

"I need to taste you," she grunted and you gasped, "Natasha baby please." She shushed you with a bruising kiss and rubbed your cunt against her latex suit. You choked on her tongue and she chuckled, "It's okay detka, you can admit that you need me, I'm here."

"I'm sensitive," you whimpered and she kissed the bridge of your nose in comfort. "I'll be gentle detka, I just want to spend four hours talking to your pussy. Gonna tell you all the reasons why I love you while your moans convey the same message back to me."

"Please," you were breathless now and this time you were beckoning her closer instead of away. She pecked your lips then pulled away abruptly to keep her focus on a shower, while also making you stumble. "Get on the bed with nothing on detka, keep your hands to yourself and sit pretty while I take my quick shower."

"Be fast mommy," you cried and she cackled as the door shut, showing you her intentions to edge you.

You smirked, excited that your plan had worked, much unlike your legs would come morning; Natasha would now likely spend the entire week at your beck and call.

In the end, everyone wins.

Well, except for Tony, who had to fork out the cash for sound proofing the walls and sending Steve to therapy.

[leenieweenie12]

No Weight At All

Just a little headcanon about our beloved Alfie comforting reader during a bit of a down episode. No dialogue, just thoughts and actions. Lightly inspired by lyrics from Something in the Orange by Zach Bryan.

Warnings: allusion to depression and/or some PTSD, vague mentions of trauma and violence

Word count: 515

divider from @cafekitsune

It had been a difficult few days for you and Alfie knew it. You never had to tell him how you were feeling, he always knew. He picked up on the smallest look in your eyes that told him you were caught up in your emotions. Even if to the rest of the world you appeared to be the happiest person, a simple glance to your face told him the truth. Alfie had that skill with everyone, seeing into their soul. His intense gaze was proof of that.  

The evening before had been quiet with both of you in the sitting room in your respective seats by the fire, Alfie with his spectacles resting on the tip of his nose rifling through paperwork and you pretending to read your book. When he noticed that you hadn’t turned the page in ten minutes, he knew something was up. You had been together long enough that Alfie knew better than to ask if you were alright. He knew you would say yes, even if that wasn’t the truth. Instead, he made you a cup of tea, exactly how you like it, and set it on the table next to you. He motioned for you to move over and make room for him. Snaking his arm around your waist, he slid you up on his lap to face him. He put his large hand behind your head and guided it down to his shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him and just sat like this, sitting on his lap with your head between his collar and jaw, two bodies melded into one, and closed your eyes. 

Alfie loved being able to comfort you with such a simple gesture. He didn’t always know what it was that caused you to have these somber periods, but that was fine. There were things that happened in your past that were never discussed between the two of you. Alfie didn’t mind. He knew all about inner demons, from his own dealings with adults abusing their power over him as a child, to the trenches in France, to the replays in his mind of downright evil things he had done to supposedly deserving men who were on the wrong side of conflict. He could surely understand the desire to say nothing at all but still crave the comforting touch of another. Which is why he never asked you to talk about what was on your mind during these times. He knew you well enough to know that you would tell him in time or even never at all if you so chose. 

The two of you sat together for what felt like hours but was likely far less. Alfie rubbed your back in a slow rhythm so soothing that you fell asleep. The growing weight of your head on his shoulder was the sign that told him you were no longer awake. Even with your entire body resting on his, he felt no weight at all. This was where he was happiest. This was where he was meant to be.

[eisa-core]

NANA TOUR EPISODE 1 - HIGHLIGHTS

How Na PD successfully kidnapped SVT

5 am.

Daisy was immersed in the deep sleep that always hits her after four hours of concerts, she had decided that night not to stay awake and drink with the other members precisely because she just wanted to sleep, sleep and sleep. She had refused to even go to Minghao's room. (Fortunately...)

«Daisy-yaaa» - She heard herself calling when her eyes were still closed, but without moving or saying anything as she thought they were voices inside her head. And then she felt movement from her shoulders, caresses on her head and far too much laughter. Opening her eyes she immediately closed them as the light in the room had been turned on and was blinding her.

«What the fuck is wrong with you guys?» - She grunted with her voice still sleepy but her mouth was immediately shut by Seungkwan. «We're caught up» - Daisy hearing these words opened her eyes wide and in front of her Na PD looked at her shocked. Daisy took Seungkwan's hand and removed it from her mouth, now open with her jaws touching the ground, and sat down on the bed. «So... where are we going?» - were the last words she said making Na PD laugh from the way she reactivated herself in a second.

The lost passport

«Mingyu relax, you can go and keep Cheol company» - Daisy played down the following scene: Na PD with the crew ready to board the plane bound for Korea, the other 11 members already lined up to sit in their assigned seats, and then there was Mingyu who could no longer find his passport. «Hey!» - He whimpered back as Na PD continued to frantically search for Mingyu's passport. «We'll send you a postcard from Italy! You won't miss us come on now..» - «Hwang Hyejin!» - Mingyu in a nervous breakdown hit the ground furiously, causing all the people in the airport to roll their eyes at them. «Help me find it! Do you have it by any chance?» - «No, it's your fault for not knowing where you put things!» - Daisy replied in the same tone as Mingyu but before the two of them got to arguing on TV here was the passport popping up in Dokyeom's hands. And no, no one could explain how he had it.

Arrival in Rome

All the members had already landed, some were sleepy, some were hungry and some were looking forward to getting around Italy's capital city. «It takes another ten minutes before we reach the city centre» - Na PD explained to everyone as they boarded a bus. «The airport where we landed is called Leonardo Da Vinci» - he continued to give information. «Ahh. Vernonie!» Dokyeom said in a low voice but was heard by Daisy, Mingyu and Joshua beside him. They all 3 turned their gaze to their right with a raised eyebrow. «No... Di Caprio is the one you th-..» Daisy tried to whisper in his ear before Joshua shouted it out loud. «Da Vinci is the painter»- «You didn't say Vernon because you were thinking of Leonardo Di Caprio...right?!» - Mingyu continued making Vernon realise why everyone was laughing. «Vernonie..» he put a hand to his forehead in astonishment.

«So you knew who Da Vinci was?» - Dokyeom when everyone stopped laughing went up to Daisy's ear who was restraining herself from laughing again, only raising her thumbs up in response.

The first night

Happily arriving at an airbnb, they went to check out the rooms one by one, looking carefully at the bed arrangements. «Mmh» - Daisy put a hand under her chin, trying to figure out which room was the best. «Do you want to sleep here? With me?» - Minghao's arm wrapped around her neck. «Yes!» - she answered him, jumping on the spot. They had only just realised the wonderful experience they were about to have. They had waited so long for it, until they believed it would never happen, only to have it come true when they needed it most.

«Guys come here!» - Jun called out to the couple still inside the room, asking them to move to the flat's small kitchen, where they would play to earn items.

Na PD however found himself defeated to the point of conceding all the items after yet another game won (and his trust betrayed).

«S.Coups has written you a message» - The other PD said showing an envelope which Jeonghan immediately took, starting to read the contents: "thank you for picking my letter i feel so sorry for you guys going without any preparation, you can use this card however you want i'll be waiting for you well in korea. have fun i love you🤍".

Everyone was almost touched to see that golden card placed on the table, Seungcheol's credit card. «I'll hold it!» - Daisy quickly took it in her hand. «No! I'm holding it!» - Dino responded by showing the bag he had been given at the beginning of the recording, he had to act as the 'group manager'. «Promise you'll give me the money to buy me..... what I want» - Daisy held up the credit card so Dino wouldn't catch it, almost threatening him. «Keep it, Dino» - Minghao who had remained at her side, slipped the card out of her hand, handing it instead to the so called 'manager'. «How could you!!! I'll change roommate now!» - Daisy was showing how sad she was by pouting, leaving Minghao giggling as he found her adorable instead.

ー☆ ͏

taglist: @cinnamon-falls ; @allthings-fandoms ; @taestrwbrry ; @illusionocnet ; @kimhyejin3108 ; @enhacolor

oc's masterlist.

[thewulf]

Here For You || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - could you write a jj maybank and sister where she has a panic attack and he helps?

A/N - Ahhh I just cannot get enough of a good old hurt/comfort. This was a little different of a write since its an X sister! insert but I had a really good time writing it. A little shorter than usual but I really like it! Thanks for the request @obxlover14

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

TW: Talks of Breakdowns, anxiety, overwhelming feelings etc.

It always happened when you least expected. The panic came over in a massive wave that engulfed your entirety seemingly out of nowhere. You’d been stressing out a little lately. Getting older meant decisions had to be made. Were you going to try and go to college? Or were you simply going to stay on the island and find weird jobs after graduating high school being the disappointment your dad expected from you? These thoughts consumed you whole making it hard to think of anything else. You started ruminating on it and before you knew it hot tears were streaming down your face.

It usually didn’t get this bad. You were normally able to stop you brain from going this far down the spiral it so often wanted to. You were a complete and utter mess who hid it well from the others. Ever since your mother left nearly ten years ago your father become more and more abusive as the years ticked on. Attributing that to your anxiety all you wanted to do was get the hell out. You knew JJ wanted to as well and he could. He turned eighteen a few months ago. But he waited around for you. Far too terrified at the thought of leaving you alone with your shared father. If you could even call him that anymore.

You found a wall in the hallway leading up to the kitchen and leaned back on it. Sliding down you brought your knees in close to your chest trying to huddle in on yourself. Bringing your hands up your tried to rub the anxiety away from your face to no avail. You tried your normal methods of calming down but was coming up devastatingly short. Tears kept slipping out of your eyes as your tried to slow your every increasing heart rate. Thank God your father was at work, you couldn’t imagine the ass beating that would come from a breakdown. Only further deteriorating your already rapidly declining mental state.

Not having a clue how long you were sitting there you tried your best counting back from a hundred. Trying to ground yourself in the moment. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. You kept losing track and having to restart after your mind started playing those normal tricks on you.

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder breaking you from the trance you were seemingly locked in on. Head snapping around you met the familiar blue eyes of your older brother. Normally happy go lucky but a growing concern clouded his vision as he looked you over.

He grabbed at the hand that was grabbing at your own face, prying it away from its grasp, “Hey kid, there you are.” His smile was anything but real but he was trying his best to get you comfortable. It wasn’t all the often he came home to you cowering in on yourself on the floor unresponsive to his calls.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him with wide eyes as you came back to the present. How long were you sitting there? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? You hadn’t a damn clue.

He ignored you continuing, “Are you okay? I called out for you a few times.” He looked you over only giving a soft sigh once he concluded you were physically fine. Mentally he hadn’t any idea what you were going through.

You nodded before looking away. Suddenly embarrassed by your episode, “I’m okay JJ.” You voice rasped out sounding like it hadn’t been used in weeks. Were you yelling? Why did it sound so hoarse?

“That’s not very believable kid.” He sat down next to you letting you know he wasn’t planning on going anywhere until you stated speaking. As gently as JJ could manage he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Well, you better believe it.” You offered a rather pathetic smile. Again, not terrible believable and JJ clocked it.

“Come on, spill.” He spoke waiting on your response.

You looked him over. He didn’t look very thrilled with you. It was more out of concern than anything else, but it still made you terribly embarrassed. It seemed so pathetic, especially when you tried to explain it out loud.

“I’m just overwhelmed J.” You sighed in defeat not really wanting to go into much more detail.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as if trying to read your cryptic mind. Sure he was your sibling but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what kept your mind racing, “What about?”

“The future.” You answered honestly not trying to hide it from it. He’d get the answer he wanted from you anyway.

He gave you the first genuine smile of the afternoon, “You’re only a Junior. You’ve got some time to figure it out.”

You shook your head, “Applications are due soon. I don’t even know if I want to go to college. What will I do there? I can’t waste any time there. Don’t have the money too…” You began to babble.

He placed a grounding hand on your shoulder, “Relax, Y/N.”

“I can’t JJ!” You snapped. Eyes wide. You rarely yelled at your older brother. You knew better.

He ignored your outburst once again and placed a second hand on your other shoulder, “I need you to breathe after me. Alright?”

You nodded watching him closely. Mimicking his actions slowly. Breathing in for a second longer than you wanted and out. Copying him for a few minutes did actually help as your breathing slowed which also dropped your heartrate.

A few more tears slipped down your face as you calmed down. Thank goodness for your older brother being able to break you from the entrapment of your mind. After one last shaky breath your eyes met his once again. He looked nervous. It was an expression your rarely, if ever, saw on your older brother and you were sure it was because of you. What a time to have a mental fucking breakdown.

“I’m sorry J.” You breathed out in more of a whisper once again embarrassed by your very own whisper.

He shook his head, “Don’t say sorry. That’s what I’m here for kid.” Knowing that you were somewhat okay he reached over and wrapped you into his arm giving you one big squeeze. JJ adored you, his younger sister by a few years. See, you were the best of the Maybank’s. As kind as they came and smarter than ever. JJ knew he had to get you off this island one way or another. After seeing you so panic stricken over everything JJ knew it wasn’t a matter of it but when. You were too good for this island. Bound for so much more even if you didn’t know it yet. JJ did.

You nodded into his shoulder not daring to say another word knowing it’d come out a shaky mess. It was nice letting yourself feel the comfort from somebody you loved and adored. JJ might not have known it but you always looked up to him. He was never afraid to speak his mind, make new friends, go on crazy adventures. He was the opposite of you and you adored that about him. He was so unashamed to be himself. It did get him into trouble more than you liked to admit.

He spoke up breaking you out of your quiet stupor once more, “You don’t have to be scared. That’s what I’m here. That’s what the pogues are here for. We’re here to talk, okay?”

You nodded knowing you would never actually take him seriously. It wasn’t your place to bother them with sixteen-year-old problems. They had their own shit to deal with. Own people to please.

“Hey, I’m serious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t take that as an answer though.

“Look at me kid.” He said more seriously than he had in this entire interaction with him.

You did as he said and waited.

“You’ve got to speak to me. Talk to me. Or somebody. You can’t let these emotions bottle up anymore. It’s okay if you’ve got to talk about it. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze letting you know he was there for you, always.

When you didn’t speak he finished, “I’m here for you kid.”

“I love you J.”

His smile reached his eyes, “I love you too kiddo. Forever and always. But you know that.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[cattimeswithjellie]

There seems to be a pervasive opinion that Scar is winning the MCYT Tumblr Sexyman contest due to a misunderstanding of what Tumblr Sexymen are, and that in fact Scar's fans believe he's just a regular sexyman. This is in fact not true at all. Scar's pathetic squishy wet-cat-standing-in-a-puddle-even-though-the-door-is-open credentials have long since been established in the fandom. (This contains spoilers for most things Scar has been in lately.)

In Hermitcraft Season 9, Scar won Statistics Roulette last week on "number of deaths" despite the fact that his statistics were reset only three or four months ago. Pathetic squish of a big-hatted man died more times in four months than Impulse or Grian did in ten. And because of the reset, it doesn't even count the twenty or so times Grian and Mumbo murdered him for fun on the very first day of the server!

In Double Life, Grian literally snagged him with a fishing pole and dragged him home with him in an ultimately futile effort to keep him from dying. Scar learned that Grian was cheating on him and passive-aggressively snarked about it to other people for two episodes, then baked cookies for Grian's secret soulmate.

In 100 Hours Hardcore, Grian and Joel basically formed a protection squad to keep Scar alive, to the point of coating the land under his base with beds to fall on and raiding a mansion for totems of undying. They still failed because Scar put apples in his off-hand instead of a totem and didn't notice his elytra was ready to break.

In Season 8, Scar was killed when a llama spat on him. His hat was unimaginably tiny, so tiny that he was forced to commission a huge model hat to wear on top of the tiny hat.

In Last Life, Scar got scammed out of one life, blackmailed out of two more lives, then lost another one by falling into a trap he'd been warned of two minutes earlier, even while people were yelling at him not to fall in the trap. He had no diamond armor so he wore a diamond-colored skin but painted abs on it as well so he would look more buff.

In Third Life, Scar attempted to get a monopoly on dark oak without checking to make sure there wasn't an entire dark oak forest on the other side of the server. He tried to get a monopoly on sand by putting his home in the middle of a large desert and yelling at people who came to get sand. He was the first player to die, blown up in a prank gone wrong.

In Season 7, Scar wouldn't even shave or put on pants until he wanted to be elected mayor. It may actually have been a fake beard. He had to terraform the entire shopping district twice when he lost the Turf War because the other side didn't actually like mycelium, they just liked causing problems for Scar.

In conclusion, yes Scar runs around without a shirt and has abs so ferocious that they show through his "diamond" armor, but he is not a Sexy Man. He is a sexyman, a real Onceler through and through, and he deserves his sweep. Vote Scar!

[levihanskid]

‘Till the End of the Line: Bakugo Katsuki’s Twin AU chapter 2

Ch1 ao3 link wattpad link i'm sorry this took so long, vet school is killing me ;-; this chapter has been sitting in my drafts for so long but the latest episode made me finally do it

The following months have been extensive for both Katsuki and Mitsuko. They tried to be consistent with their morning runs, but there were times where one or both of them would sleep in. Mostly Mitsuko, which pissed her twin a lot. After school, they would spend an hour improving their physical condition and stamina, and another hour training with their quirks. All while trying to keep up with their studies and reviewing for the entrance exam.

Ten months had passed, and the twins are now walking towards the enormous gates of UA High School. They took the written exam a few weeks ago, which was easier than they expected. Today is the day that the twins are anticipating the most, the practical exam. Mitsuko felt a mix of emotions as she looked up the school’s crest on top of the gate. She’s nervous, but at the same time she’s excited and can’t wait to put her training to use.

As they entered the school grounds, a familiar curly green hair caught her eyes. “Hey look, it’s your bff,” she nudged her brother.

From a few feet away, Midoriya Izuku stood at the middle in deep thought. Probably freaking out on the inside.

“Out of the way Deku!” Katsuki yelled.

“Kacchan! Micchan!” Izuku called in surprise.

Mitsuko visibly cringed at the nickname he used to address her and eyed the boy. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Move it! Or I’ll kill you!” her brother spat, unaffected by the childish nickname.

The boy immediately stepped out of the way and stuttered. “G-good morning! Let’s uh— let’s do our best!”

The twins didn’t say anything back, but she gave him a small smile before continuing to walk to the building.

“Isn’t that Bakugo? From the Sludge Villain Incident?”

“Yeah. And that’s the girl from the video. They’re twins aren’t they?”

Mitsuko is used to people murmuring about them, given that her brother is a big show off. This isn’t the first time they had people talking about something that one of them did, so she chose to ignore the whispers and looked ahead.

Inside the auditorium, they were greeted by the Voice Hero, Present mic. Mitsuko sat next to her brother, as well as Izuku who chose to be seated next to them and is currently fan boying over the pro hero at the podium. Katsuki tried telling him to shut up, but the boy kept muttering to himself and Mitsuko had to lean away from his direction to avoid getting distracted.

“As the application says, you’ll be participating in a ten minute battle in a mock city. Get ready! After this, you will head to your assigned battle center.”

She looked at her examination card, and then glanced over her brother’s.

“In other words, they’re not letting friends work together, huh?”

“You’re right,” Izuku agreed, his eyes glued to the blonde boy’s card. “We have consecutive numbers, but different centers.”

“Don’t look, want to die?” Katsuki threatened. “Tch. Now I can’t crush you, damn it.”

His last words made the curly boy move away a bit and turn his attention back to the stage.

“Makes sense,” Mitsuko whispered, her focus still on her card which displayed a letter C while her brother got A. “The exam is meant to test our individual abilities. They wouldn’t want us to tag-team.”

Present Mic continued his presentation. He went on to inform them about the types of mock villains they will be facing and that each type represents 1, 2, and 3 points each. They were also told about the gimmick villain that they’re supposed to run away from since it’s just there to cause trouble and not give points.

She played with her fingers as she tried to listen, making sure she knows every detail.

“Stop fidgeting,” her brother snapped. “It’s annoying. Why are nervous anyway?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mix between excitement and anxiety. And this orientation is taking so long,” she replied, intertwining her fingers to keep them steady.

“You’re right. We’ve heard enough, I can’t wait to crush those bots. Think you can get a hundred points?” her twin asked, still looking ahead. Although it’s obvious that he’s also starting to get restless.

“A hundred might be impossible, considering the time limit, the competition, and the fact that we won’t have any idea where the villains would be.”

“I can make it possible,” he brother scoffed. “And I’ll make sure to get the first spot.”

“Is that a challenge?” she raised a brow. “Whoever gets less points have to do the other’s chores for two weeks, then.”

Katsuki grinned at the raised stake. “Deal. Let’s show these extras how it’s done.”

***

Mitsuko tried containing her loud heartbeats as she stood before the door where the exam is going to take place. After the orientation, they were directed to change out of their middle school uniforms and get on the bus that would take them to their respective battle centers. She had changed into a white racerback tank top and some sweat pants.

The format of the test is very fortunate for her, since her quirk can easily be utilized. She imagined how those with quirks that only works to people would do against robots.

“Let’s do our best!” she heard an excited voice. Mitsuko looked over her shoulder to see a girl with pink hair and pink skin talking to the people around her with no tinge of awkwardness. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Huh? Why do you look familiar?” the girl looked at her with a hint of recognition.

Before she could respond, the voice of the hero Present Mic echoed through the speakers.

“Start! What are waiting for? Real fights don’t have countdowns!”

Mitsuko didn’t waste any second and ran inside the training grounds, using her quirk to propel herself forward.

She saw a couple of number 1 and 2 robots straight ahead. Without any hesitation, she pointed her palms toward them and willed her quirk out. Her forearms glowed in bright white-yellow color. The light traveled onto her hands into her palms before blasting to the direction of the robots. They exploded with the contact, leaving electric sparks and smokes.

“Nice quirk ‘ya got there,” a voice from behind commented. Mitsuko whirled around and saw a boy approaching her. He’s got blonde hair and gray eyes, but what caught her attention (in a bad way) was the annoying smug face that he has.

She didn’t reply, so the boy continued. “Must be nice having a quirk so flashy, huh?”

He tapped her on the shoulder, and a look of recognition flashed across his face for a second, before being replaced with a smirk. “Weren’t you that girl from the video? Didn’t expect you to be here after all that shit talking to those heroes.”

The smirk was one thing, but his words made Mitsuko’s blood boil. Her red pupils dilated and her right eyebrow raised as she tried to stop herself from blinding the guy. She shouldn’t be distracted right now.

Another batch of robots showed up, and she thanked the heavens for giving her an excuse to walk away from where she’s currently standing.

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for a chitchat,” she said in a monotone voice, swatting the guy’s hand away from her shoulder.

She ran to destroy the robots, but before she could stretch her hands out, quick flashes of light reached and blasted them into pieces. No, those were not just lights, they look too much like hers.

She looked back to where the lights came from, confusion clearly visible from her face.

“Whoops! Sorry for stealing points from ‘ya, but I gotta do what I gotta do, don’t ‘ya think?” it was the same blonde guy, still wearing his irritating smirk. He turned on his heel and began walking away. “I’ll be having this flashy quirk for a while, better make use of it!”

Those words confused her even more. Did he just get her quirk?

She shook her head and put her focus back on the exam. Shit. Was he trying to stall me for some reason?

The exam just started, but she could’ve gotten more points if she wasn’t standing around having a one sided conversation with that guy. She can’t afford to waste more time.

She flew around the grounds looking for more targets, blasting her quirk backwards to levitate and propel herself faster. Taking down every robot she encounters along the way as quickly as she could.

She was at 23 points, if she counted correctly, when she reached the area where a lot of the kids are gathered. Present Mic’s voice echoed through the speakers again.

“We have reached the half time!! Five minutes left before the exam ends!!!”

She saw a bunch of robots with different points surrounding the students. More people means more robots to see them as targets. Just as she figured.

Mitsuko jumped over, smirking in satisfaction as she shot her quirk out at every single robot within her sight while using her flexibility and agility to maneuver herself.

The kids stared at her in awe. “What an awesome quirk she’s got.”

“Isn’t she the girl from that one video?”

“Hey! Leave some points for us!” one of them shouted out.

She continued gathering points, keeping herself airborne using her quirk and sometimes stepping on the robots to use them to keep her momentum. She kept going, faster and quicker, not letting the others steal points from her again.

By the time her feet touched the ground, all of the robots around the area were already blown into bits. Mitsuko wiped the sweat from her forehead and tightened her ponytail. She also noticed her arms glowing a bit. She must’ve used up the stored energy in her body since it’s currently absorbing sunlight again.

“You are so cool!! Those movements were amazing! You look like you could be a great dancer!” the same pink girl ran to her with enthusiasm. Mitsuko just noticed a pair of horns protruding out from her pink curly locks.

“I don’t dance,” she replied, looking around for more robots to destroy. She realized she lost count of her points after her exhibition earlier.

“Really? You should try! The way you’re moving while fighting is awesome!”

“I came here to be a hero, not a dancer,” Mitsuko cut the girls’ blabbering. “Sorry, but I really don’t have the time to–“

The ground shook, and a loud grumbling mechanical sound cut her last sentence. She looked up to see a huge robot approaching. It’s the zero point they were supposed to run away from.

Anyone with no balls would run away from that thing, all right. She thought to herself.

“Let’s go! That’s a no-pointer!” the pink girl pulled the back of her top.

Before they could take a step back however, the robot continued to stroll through the streets, destroying the buildings and causing debris to fall down.

Talk about keeping the damage to a minimum!

People began to scatter in a panic. Everyone was pushing trying to run away.

A huge piece of the building’s wall caught Mitsuko’s attention. It was plummeting into the direction of the students, specifically the pink girl. Mitsuko didn’t even realize that the girl started running off. The girl was looking over her left shoulder, seemingly trying to call Mitsuko to join the retreat. While the debris was coming from her right side, a complete blind spot.

She hasn’t trained much to target moving objects, not to mention fast ones. So she decided not to try and shoot it while it’s falling down.

Her next action was caused by the heat of the moment. It was a crazy idea, but she prayed it would work.

Mitsuko ran towards the girl faster than the rock. When she reached her, she pushed the girl out of the way and produced the strongest energy barrier she could muster. It was a move she’s been improving for the past year. It worked against her brother’s attacks, so she’s hoping that it’ll work against the huge piece of rock.

It did. Sort of.

She was able to stop the debris without her barrier faltering, but its weight and momentum was too heavy. She couldn’t free a hand to blast the rock into pieces. Now she’s stuck holding both her hands up to maintain the barrier.

She heard the pink girl grunt from behind her, and a spray of acid splashed onto the lower part of the rock causing it to move a little. In that given moment, Mitsuko quickly released her barrier and used her quirk again to make the rock explode.

The debris was casting a shadow over her so unlike before, her arms seemed to glow brighter. The rock blew up into pieces, but her body continued to glow a little as it absorbed sunlight to compensate for the energy she just lost.

Mitsuko turned around, panting as bits of sweat began forming on her forehead. She saw the girl trying to stand on her feet, but she couldn’t seem to put weight on her left foot.

“Can you run?” Mitsuko asked.

“No, I think I sprained my ankle from falling down earlier. Why’d you have to push me so hard anyway?!” the girl exclaimed.

“Huh!?” Mitsuko’s brows furrowed. “How is that my fault?! I just saved your ass!”

They didn’t have more time to argue, because the zero-point robot was nearing their position. As much as she hated it, Mitsuko took the girl’s arm over her shoulder and began moving. The people had thinned out, the other examinees must’ve managed to run off far from where they were.

Great. That just made their situation worse, because now the only targets the robot has was the two of them. And it’s currently aiming its enormous metal hand to swat them like little flies.

Despite trying to convince herself that UA wouldn’t allow anyone to get killed for an entrance exam, Mitsuko’s wracking nerves still got the best of her.

With gritted teeth, she let go of the girl’s arms, “Take cover!” she yelled and turned around to face the giant villain. She raised her arms, still glowing from the absorption, and waited for the perfect time to blast. But before that perfect time came, she felt a sudden smack behind her head.

Anger and confusion took over her as she tried to process what just happened. Mitsuko looked around with furrowed brows and saw a guy walking past her.

The annoying blonde kid from earlier stood in front of her and threw an energy blast towards the hands of the robot. Just like their first encounter, his blast looked so much like her quirk. The villain stopped, and the boy snickered before looking back at her. “I never planned to go after the gimmick, but I thought you needed saving,” he said in an arrogant voice which made Mitsuko’s mind ring in irritation.

“YOU FUCKING COPYCAT!” she began stomping towards him.

“Oh, you finally figured it out? You’re welcome, although that’s not a very nice nickna—“

“ARE YOU STUPID?! THAT ATTACK WAS SO WEAK IT WON’T EVEN MAKE A SCRATCH!”

There was a loud metallic creaking sound. Mitsuko looked up, the smokes are gone so she could clearly see how right she was. The robot is still standing, not even a dent could be seen in its huge hands that is now coming down to them faster than before.

She muttered a curse before running to the right side, leaving the other two frozen in their place. When she reached the right spot, she raised her arms once again and acted as fast as she could.

She willed her quirk out, this time much stronger and concentrated than before, making her entire arms glow instead of just her forearms. The light traveled through her hands and palms before shooting out, her legs almost giving up from the shot's recoil. It hit the robot’s elbow, just as she planned. Her attack was powerful enough to pierce through its armor and cut its forearm off, stopping it from hitting the other kids.

Panting, Mitsuko then just realized that she lost track of both the time and her points. She was about to run to gather more points when Present Mic’s voice echoed once again.

“TIME’S UP!”

“Dammit!”

[gladumfdoodles]

hey guys ignore the fact that i've been notably absent from original posts on tumblr lately, i'm here with some funky life series stats for those of you who write canon compliant stuff (and also for those of you who just like numbers) so a while ago I made a spreadsheet with a time converter on it, basically taking IRL time and transferring it into minecraft time. and thanks to a dream i had last night that i can't stop thinking about, i'm going to take the life series and start making numbers happen

numbers below cut cause it got quite long, i do recommend you read it though, i'm very excited by the implications of them :3

okay, so, i'm pretty sure that a session of the life series is 3 hours? i could be wrong, maybe it's 4, but i swear i heard someone say it was three hours before so

3 hours IRL = 9 days in minecraft (a day in this instance is a 24 hour period including the day/night cycle)

that means one session of the life series is over a week long for the cubitos/characters!! no wonder they get attached to each other so quickly

let's look at 3rd life: grian's series is 8 episodes long (i think most people's are?), which means that they spent 72 days in that series. 72 days!! that's two and a half months in a highly stressful environment, two months is a long time for a death game!

don't think about the cactus ring. don't think about them reminiscing on the past 72 days they've spent together, all of that time side by side. don't think about grian standing on the edge of the cliff, realizing that he killed his partner, his closest ally, his closest friend, the one person he spent months with.

don't think about renchanting dying seconds after each other, which in minecraft time would been around ten minutes. don't think about martyn kneeling at the side of his king, then standing to face desert duo, only to die shortly after.

last life was even longer, 9 episodes, that's 81 days. 11 weeks, nearly three months. i don't actually remember a lot about last life to be honest, but don't think about all those alliances crumbling to pieces after being together for so long. don't think about how the boogyman curse was something that lasted 9 days, 9 whole days of uncertainty and fear, staring at your teammates and your friends, wondering if they're going to kill you when you turn your back.

double life was shorter, only 6 episodes, but that's still 54 days! not quite two months, but close! also if you want to really break down the times in that series, that means scar didn't know who his soulmate was for 9 whole days. it was probably around the one week point that he decided to give up and just make the jellies his soulmate, which makes sense given the timeline! I don't know too much about the divorce quartet, but you can absolutely crunch the numbers to see how long they went without their respective soulmates, which could shed light on why they did what they did

don't think about pearl, alone for 54 days.

limited life was the same length as 3rd life, 72 days, but let's think about the implications of that. with the lengths involved and the amount of deaths, someone would have died basically every day, especially towards the end. imagine the psychological impact of that, with 3rd life deaths were few and far between (or at least it felt like that). with limited life? it was a constant event. also, Grian would have been AFK for 9 days. 9 days. don't think about the other two bad boys waiting for him to wake up, waiting for him to respond, beginning to feel scared as the one week point passed and still nothing from him. don't think about it.

secret life was the same length as last life, 81 days. They had 9 days to complete their tasks each session, which feels like a lot until you take into account the gravity of the tasks. could you dig a hole IRL that was four meters by four meters down to a very deep point in 9 days? I mean, maybe you could, i don't know you, but that would be pretty difficult for me.

also something i found funny is that jimmy would have been watching over grian for 9 days. can you imagine having jimmy in your head for 9 days??

anyway this got very long and rambley, i just....the time implications for the life series are so incredible.....you could break things down bit by bit, put times on everything, there's so much there that can be added.

i love this series

[starrysvn]

married in vegas | choi san

pairing: choi san x gn!reader genre: exes2lovers synopsis: choi san had been your first true love and who you'd hoped would be your last. but things don't always work out. too bad your friends were his too, and jung wooyoung was hellbent on spending a long weekend birthday trip in las vegas. never mind your poor heart. warnings: drinking, swear words, a lil angst, dramatics, fluff, unedited word count: 5.2k author's note: fourth installment is here! hope you like this one, i recently rewatched that one episode of friends (iykyk) and just thought i'd put the final dialogue from it in here, kinda. ngl i feel like on the whole i could've done better but i hope you'll enjoy your read anyway! :3

series masterlist | regular masterlist

The breakup was amicable. You stayed friends and, sure, you didn’t hang out as much as you used to - for obvious reasons - and, yes, you did try to get out of any gathering that you knew he was going to be at. Still, you were civil. You could be in his presence.

And yet, all of that didn’t explain why the mere mention of him joining his best friend’s birthday trip to Las Vegas, had you circling around the room like a madman. 

“I hope you’re fucking joking” you whine through the phone, earning a sigh from Yeosang.

“You’re blowing this way out of proportion” 

“Am I?”

After talking your best friend’s ear off for minutes on end, that sounded wrong to your own ears.

“How did you not realize? San is Wooyoung’s best friend, of course he’d be there!” he reasons, as if you need a reminder that you are being ridiculous. “Plus, he’s taking a huge leap of faith in inviting you both”

“Listen, it was months ago, he didn’t use the group chat to invite us, I didn’t put two and two together. I had a lot on my plate! And hey, we’re civil!” The silence that meets you is so loud. You sigh. “Sorry for the dramatics, it’s been a long day” 

After all, you are still recovering from having to dash home in a downpour. And having to stay after hours to have a long, unnecessary meeting with your head of department. Realizing your ex-boyfriend would also be joining your long weekend getaway was just the cherry on top.

“I’d say sorry for springing this up on you at the last minute, but then again, I could’ve just waited to see your face tomorrow” you hit him back with a real funny, Sang, smiling when you hear him snort. The line goes quiet for a second. “Do you want me to come over? We can head to the airport together in the morning” Yeosang says softly, a silent peace offering. 

“Are you kidding? Have you seen the weather?” you look out the window, the rain’s still unforgivingly pouring down. 

“Unlike you, I don’t refuse to drive in dire conditions” he pokes fun.

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Kang Yeosang” 

“I’ll be over in ten” you could basically see his amused grin. You let out a chuckle hanging up. Then you press a hand to your forehead, trying to soothe the headache starting to form.

Choi San is the boyfriend. The one you never thought would leave. The one parting from hurt like nothing you ever experienced. The one you eventually bounced back from, but did you really? Because it still feels as if he was a part of you, just as much as you are a part of him. And when he left, you had to re-learn how to go through life with a missing piece.

He’d been your best friend, the person you ran to for everything. Someone you loved so much that it scared you sometimes because you knew just how much it would kill you to lose him. 

Choi San is the one that got away and took a piece of you with him.

But what could you do, after months of healing and avoiding him, when your friends were his friends too? Declining invitations got old fast. The first time you saw him again, you thought you could handle his presence for the night. And you did but cried the whole way home. After that, no more. With time, it got better. Seeing him no longer left you with a sinking feeling. Of course, it isn’t like before, but it never could be, and you made your peace with that.

Still, after one year, you microdose on San, afraid of what could happen to your heart if you spent too much time close to him. It’s for your own sake, your peace of mind. That’s why, when it finally clicked into place that you’d be spending a whopping four days in his presence, you flipped. 

The doorbell pulls you from your thoughts, and a smiley Yeosang holding a bottle of wine greets you. You should have known better than to accept alcohol as a peace offering from your best friend. Most of all, you should know that it never really ends with just one bottle. Because now you are incredibly hungover, severely nauseous and totally late for your flight. 

“This is all your fault” you hiss as Yeosang asks the Uber driver to please hurry. Both your phones are annoyingly dinging with unread text messages, not helping your headache at all. 

“Excuse you?” he turns around, tone accusatory. “As far as I remember, you were the one who brought out the tequila” 

“Well, you didn’t stop me”

“You were crying!”

“Even worse!”

Your bickering is brought to an end by the screeching halt of the car in front of the airport. You ignore the severe wave of nausea it causes and get out, Yeosang right in tow. Incessant teasing and half-hearted blame tossing accompanies your run through the airport. 

With just five minutes to spare, Wooyoung’s screeching hyena laughter welcomes the two of you at the gate. Surely the matching sunglasses and coats thrown over your pyjamas are a sight to behold, you think as you hug your friends hello. 

“Birthday boy!” you pull Wooyoung into a big hug, giggling when he sways you both back and forth. 

“Thank you for coming” he already said that months ago, when he first proposed the idea, but right now - with San’s eyes on you - the sincerity in Wooyoung’s somehow shines brighter.

“Thank you for having me” you smile genuinely. The breakup put a strain on your group of friends for a little, and you wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciated him wanting you here. He squeezes your hand, before moving to Yeosang. 

“We need to go, you’ll say hi in eleven hours when we land. Chop, chop!” Seonghwa rushes everyone to join the last few people in line. You let go of Mingi, laughing, hearing Yunho say something along the lines of they literally just started boarding, and follow the rest. You finish saying your hellos through boarding, finally facing San. 

As you always do when it comes to him, you push down whatever mixed feelings bubbled up in your chest and put on a smile. 

“Hi, San," you wave, so you're stunned when he just spares you a quick side hug, smiling curtly after greeting you.

Your friends had long stopped holding their breath whenever you two are in the same room, but this feels off. Like a splash of cold water, it sends you back to the first, awkward time you met up again. Nobody seems to notice though, apart from Yeosang. Unlike the rest of your friends, his gaze still lingers on you carefully. You subtly nod at him, like you always do. 

Sighing, you keep walking beside your best friend, not really able to shake the disappointment San’s cold greeting leaves you with. Despite your best efforts, you let it eat away at you during the flight, the car ride to the hotel and the moments you unpack. No amount of berating does it. Why would he behave like that? Is this all in your head?

It’s not like you two would usually have heart to hearts but you talked, at least. You were friendly. So you don’t get why suddenly San is being so distant. For Wooyoung’s sake, you promised yourself you’d do your best to ignore it all. Be the bigger person and not get involved with whatever bullshit had his panties in a twist. 

A whole day into the trip and you had to resist the urge to punch him in the face for behaving like an immature teenager multiple times. But you keep contact to a minimum. Complain to Yeosang in the comfort of your hotel room. Take several deep breaths. You aren’t good at this whole maintain-inner-peace thing.

“I just wish he would stop ignoring me” 

The view from the panoramic terrace of the hotel is breathtaking, but, margarita in hand and sunglasses on, you find yourself not fully appreciating it. Not when you are using your time away from the rest of the group to vent to your best friend. Again. 

“Ah, so you do care” the way Yeosang wiggles his eyebrows makes you want to wipe off that smirk on his face. 

“No, I don’t” he doesn’t look too convinced. “Seriously! He’s just making it hard to get along with him”

“Or is his distance making you think about stuff you don’t want to think about?” you hate how much your best friend knows you. You let out an exasperated sigh. 

The last thing you should be thinking about was your ex, but you can’t help it. He wouldn’t usually behave like that and, you had to admit, it threw you for a loop. Not to mention how you despise the way you still catch yourself thinking about him. It’s subconscious at this point and it's been hard to accept. Had he finally moved on? Were you the only one left running in circles inside your head?

No matter how much distance there is between the two of you, he’s still there, in a corner of your mind. Like a phantom pain, he follows you in the most mundane of things. The frozen aisle at the supermarket still reminds you of his favorite ice cream brand. When buying Christmas presents, your brain immediately goes to the one thing he’s been obsessing over. The reminders zap you like an electric shock, bringing you back to reality. San is a friend now - they say. Nothing more, nothing less. And so you’d berate your heart for acting like he wasn’t. You’d put down the tube of mint-choco ice cream with a sigh, and choose fucking socks as a present. 

“Promise we won’t change?” 

It was hard to make out the look on his face through the tears in your eyes. You never thought breaking up would hurt this bad, like giving up a piece of you. It felt like the end of the world. Of your world. One where you could no longer navigate life with San.

“You’ll always be my best friend” he murmured, lips against the skin of your neck. You felt the wetness on his face, too. “We’ll go back to how it was before”

But how could it? Now that you knew what it was like to be loved by him, and what a thing it was to love him. Against all hopes, that night, you hoped he was right. 

No amount of space was ever able to lessen the strain the break-up put on your already existing friendship. You keep it amicable, for everyone else’s sake, but it just isn’t like before. It could never be. You both broke that promise, one that perhaps you shouldn’t even have made.

You’ve long realized that it’s closure that you need. Because the two of you healed separately, but never really talked about it together. It’s a conversation you need to have if you intend on being around each other. What scares you the most, though, is the possibility of something happening. Or rather, of you letting it happen. You aren’t so sure about San. If you truly want to let go, you need to know.

The dings of your phones pulls you from your thoughts.

meet in the lobby in an hour-ish? we’re going out!

You share a look with Yeosang, knowing birthday celebrations are due tonight, and Wooyoung isn’t about to hold back. 

“Let’s go” your best friend offers an encouraging smile, walking back to the room with you. 

-

The second you go down to meet with your friends, you feel yourself stumble on your heels and almost wish to find a way out of this dinner party. Now, you aren’t a stranger to San’s beauty, you never were. But holy fuck, how you wished that he was still yours. If he were, you could saunter up to him and tell him just how breathtaking he looked with his unbuttoned white shirt and slicked-back hair. The knowledge hits you like a train and leaves you breathless.

You need a drink. 

And, boy, do you get one.

You don’t remember the last time you had this much fun. Wooyoung sure knows how to party. The dinner went quite smoothly - safely hidden between Yeosang and Mingi, you didn’t spare much attention to San, not that he spared you any - and soon after the birthday boy dragged you to a club.

“Sunshine!” Wooyoung appears out of nowhere, stealing you away from your impromptu dance battle against a buzzed Mingi. “Don’t you look stunning” he compliments, twirling you around, flirty as usual. You cackle, throwing your hands on his shoulders. 

“Thanks Woo, you look dashing” you wink back, dancing with him.

“You shouldn’t be saying that to me,” he laughs. The confusion in your eyes must be enough for him to elaborate. “I noticed you’ve been eyeing a certain someone… who happened to be eyeing back”

“Who?” you’re going to fight this. No way.

“Don’t play dumb now” his face gets closer until his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “If looks could kill, I’d be dust right now. So would be Mingi” you gape at him, watching as he smiles amusedly.

“Wooyoung, we’re not going to talk about me and him during your birthday party”

“Oh, please! My birthday wish is for you two to get back together already!” homeboy is drunk. Your jaw hits the floor, and you smack his arm. He just laughs harder. 

“Wooyoung, what!? You can’t be serious” 

“Come on! You’re both incredibly oblivious about your feelings. It's getting sad” he groaned in frustration. “You’re still obviously hung up on each other and I can’t take it anymore, it’s excruciating! Take me out of this misery” 

“There’s a reason we called it quits, Woo” you deadpan, taking a step back from him.

“And it’s a stupid one,” he looks like he’s about to say more, but he can’t. 

“Alright enough” because Yunho, your saving grace, intervenes. “We’re going back to our booth” he shoots you an apologetic smile, half dragging the birthday boy away and back to the others. You don’t know how much of the conversation he caught, but judging by the good-natured scolding he’s doing, it was enough. You sigh, deciding it’s time for your well-deserved drink. As soon as you reach the bar, you claim the last free stool for yourself. 

Wooyoung’s words won’t leave you alone. They keep bouncing around in your head louder than the booming music. Was it really a stupid reason? But most of all, how drunk does he have to be to insinuate that San is still in love with you? That you are still in love with him?

You nod to the bartender when the drink lands in front of you. 

The night you broke up is a tangled up mess of emotions and memories you rarely ever allow to resurface. At first, it hurt too much, and then, just like everything else San, you tried to forget in order to move on. But if you think long enough, you still feel him slip away from you, the hollow in your chest when you woke up the morning after and his head wasn’t resting on the pillow beside yours. 

Lazily, you toy with the straw of your drink.

It was something about work and it keeping you apart that drove a wedge into your relationship. The nights when one of you would pass out waiting up for the other started to become the norm. The arguments that the lack of each other’s presence fired up outnumbered the sweet talks you used to have over dinner. 

Bitter words were spoken, and everything crashed and burned to its fateful end. The mutual decision to break it off before you broke the other seemed the best option. You never truly gave yourself time to think if you regretted it, afraid that bringing it up would only prevent you from letting San go. So, you foolishly swept it under the rug. 

And now, here you are, downing your drink in response to the wave of emotions Wooyoung’s words elicited in you. Trying to ignore how your skin crawls every time the man sitting beside you lays his eyes on you. Inching away every time he tries to talk to you. 

“We’re leaving” there is no mistaking his voice, but it feels so foreign. You turn around, facing him. His unreadable eyes send a chill down your spine. You lift a brow in question.

“You’re drunk,” San shrugs. “I’m taking you back to the hotel” 

Who does he think he is? Looking down at you from his high horse of righteousness, worrying about you like he cared. You scoff. 

“‘M not and you most definitely aren’t” you turn around in your seat, facing away from him. 

“Are too, come on” San’s hand reaches for your arm, turning you back around and trying to safely get you off the stool. 

“And what’s it to you?” you finally snap, shrugging him off. “You haven’t spoken more than two words to me the whole trip, why do you care now?” 

Despite your resolution not to cry, or not to care, you feel tears stinging in your eyes. So much for not letting him phase you.

“Yeah, let go man” all hopes of getting out of this situation are ruined the second the guy sitting beside you speaks. You roll your eyes, bracing for what’s to come and cursing yourself for not leaving the bar after getting your drink. “Who are you to ruin their fun?” 

“I’m their boyfriend”

Of course. 

But you can’t deny that the way he says it - like he very much believes it - moves something inside you. 

San doesn't waste any time and doesn’t wait for a reply. His fingers wrap around your wrist delicately, making goosebumps cover your skin. His hold is familiar, warm and it makes you feel like crying. Too stunned to speak, you let him carry you through the stuffy club, not even bothering to apologize to the people you bumped into. 

It takes way longer than you’d like to get out of the club, and the lump in your throat is getting harder to ignore by the second. Suddenly, you don’t feel like blaming San all that much for ignoring you. 

Once the cold air of the night hits you, you free yourself from his firm grasp. San stops dead in his tracks, looking at you. You can’t do this right now. You worked so hard to keep things civil between you two, you can’t fight with him on Wooyoung’s day. Knowing that one more word from him would break you. You take a deep breath. 

“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” Clearly, it didn’t work.

“And here I was, thinking I was going to get a thank you” 

You point a finger at his chest. “I can handle my own, San” and there it is, that look on his face that tells you he knows better. He knows you. And for a moment, you hate that he’s right. For a moment, you hate him for fucking with your head. “And you know perfectly well what I’m talking about” 

“Do I?” 

“What do you want me to tell you, San? You’ve been acting all distant and righteous these past couple of days, and then you pull this stunt?” This is most certainly a conversation you don’t want to have in the middle of the street, but oh well. “You could’ve just asked if I wanted a ride back to the hotel, there was no need for all that”

A gust of wind blows by, making you shiver. When San moves closer, all traces of his anger gone, you stand still, holding your breath. Dumbstruck, you follow his every movement. San peels his jacket off, only to drape it over your shoulders. Something he’s done a million times before. A melancholy so strong pulls at your heartstrings. You didn’t think he noticed. His touch lingers a second too long, eyes looking into yours as if asking if what he just did was alright. 

“Thanks” you mumble, watching him step back. The warmth melts your anger away as much as it messes with your head. You don’t like how the air shifts and becomes heavy with the weight of words left unsaid. 

But what would you even tell him? That, apparently, for how much you tried, you can't move on? That he lingers in your mind, in your heart, your apartment. That he’s still all over you, and you don’t know how to shrug him off – you aren’t even sure if you want to. 

“I miss you” the words leave your lips before you have a chance to stop them. You definitely shouldn’t have drunk tonight. San’s eyes are on you in a split second, but yours stay focused on the pavement. You can feel his gaze putting you on the spot, begging you to say more. You don’t.

“Me too” he speaks so quietly that his words almost get lost in the night. 

San waves a taxi over and helps you in. The whole ride back is quiet; you’re a second away from bursting into tears, having finally realized the extent of your feelings for San. Only cursing Wooyoung for being right keeps you in one piece until you reach the door to your room. 

You go to unlock it and turn around to give him his jacket back. Not being surrounded by his scent sends your heart to your feet. You can’t believe all the work you did not to feel like this anymore has gone to shit. 

“Thank you,” you say once more, before turning to step into your dark room so you can cry to your heart’s content and pretend none of this happened in the morning. 

San’s hand grips yours, stopping you in your tracks. When he whispers your name, you’re done for. One second you’re about to hide in your room and the other he’s turning you to him. You can see how he's looking for the words to say. You know that expression all too well, you recognize the furrow of his brow. Then e pulls you closer and the breath gets knocked out of your lungs. He’s closer than he’s ever been in a year and pressed as you are against his chest, you’re afraid he might hear the way your heart is furiously beating. 

His sorry eyes are scanning every inch of your face, or so you think, blinking back tears. Under his gaze, you’re burning. Because you want him to let you go and hold you closer at the same time. His hands on your hips are still delicate, you can break free at any time, but you’re not sure you want to. 

Your breath hitches when his forehead connects to yours, you can’t breathe, you can’t think-

And then he’s kissing you, and it’s like coming home. It tastes sweet like your drink and bitter like the whiskey on his tongue. You’re unsure if the saltiness is from your tears or his. It’s familiar and your gut tells you that it’s so right, so good that you push yourself closer, lose yourself in him. San’s hold on you is almost bruising, and he’s kissing you like you’re the only thing he’s ever known. Like he used to when he wanted to show you just how much he loved you-

You push away from him like you’ve been stunned. His confused eyes search your face, asking what’s wrong. You clear your voice, but no words leave your mouth. So, when he calls your name with a voice so fragile that it makes you shiver, it’s all you can do to bid him goodnight and finally lock yourself in your room. 

Your lips are still tingling, you still feel San’s mouth on yours. In the darkness, a sob wrecks you. You’re supposed to be over him. You spent so much time trying to be. Your heart shouldn’t be breaking this way; for the time you lost trying to forget him, for how all your efforts were in vain.

“Let me in” though muffled by the door, his voice makes you jump. “Please”

Another loud sob escapes you, and you curse yourself for not stepping away from the entrance. Of course, he’d stay. Of course, he’d hear. Well, you can’t run now, can you? 

When you open the door, San’s head shoots up. He goes to take a step but hesitates. You simply open the door wider, and he visibly relaxes. After letting him in, you close the door and turn on the lights. The silence is thick, and you almost can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry” he starts, catching your attention. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done a lot of things these past few days” despite your tears, you manage a scoff. 

“Why?” it’s all that leaves your lips, but you know he’s caught on. You’re met with silence. Disappointment spreads like wildfire in your heart. He doesn't even have an answer - you bitterly think.

“So you’ve got nothing to say for yourself?” you push, starting to feel the anger bubble up inside. “You know how hard I’ve tried to make this trip work for Wooyoung's sake? For all our friends' sake? So that they don’t have to walk on eggshells around us, or invite us out one at a time?”

“And I haven’t!?”

“Oh, don’t sound so surprised, San!” you take a step closer. “We were doing alright, why’d you have to go and act like you have a stick up your ass whenever I’m around? Wooyoung’s your best friend, for crying out loud!”

“Don’t act all high and mighty! Have you ever considered, hell, even ever stopped to think-”

“Have I?” oh, if he only knew. “Have I? All I ever do is think, San! You’ve haunted all of my what-ifs ever since we broke up. So you can’t go ahead and pull shit like this when I’ve been trying my damn best” 

Your voice is thick with emotion and your throat feels tight. The deafening silence that meets you makes your ears ring. San visibly deflates and the way he speaks is in open contrast to how you just did. 

“Would you keep trying?” you don’t remember the last time you heard him sound so small. Still, his eyes are so full of determination. 

“Why would I?” you ask, defeated. It’s like a flip switches inside him. 

“Because I love you! I still love you” 

Time stops, and for a moment nothing exists but you and your racing heart. It’s going so fast you fear it might beat out of your chest, or that he might hear it. It’s so loud that it rings in your ears. A surprised gasp escapes your lips: you understood perfectly fine, you just can’t believe the words he just so desperately uttered. 

“I’ve been in love with you longer than I can remember. I loved you when I thought I’d never get to tell you again. I loved you when loving you quietly and at a distance was all I could do, but it was alright as long as I got to love you”

“San…”

“I’m sorry for earlier. I’m sorry for these last couple of days. There’s no excuse, but I just…” he sighs, closing his eyes. You go to take another step, but all determination to do so dies when you see him produce a little velvet box from his pocket. Your breath hitches and a sigh of his name leaves you. “All I could think about leading up to this trip was our first anniversary. You remember how we joked about eloping in Las Vegas?”

It seems your tears won’t stop flowing. You can’t believe he remembers. It was such a small thing, it takes you a second to connect the dots. It was a comment thrown around, something you said to make him laugh. Though you remember thinking that if he’d asked, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. 

“I’ve had this since then” hope sparks in your heart, though you’re not really sure you’re even breathing right now. 

“San-”

“Don’t. I know this is so incredibly stupid, I don’t even know why I brought this with me-”

“Ask me” finally, finally he looks up at you and there’s no doubt in your mind. You still love him, you always have. You always will. 

“What?”

“Choi San, ask me or I will” he’s blanking, frozen in his spot. So, you get down on one knee. His eyes widen and you hear sounds of protest. Suddenly it’s a race on who’s speaking first, both on your knees, face to face. You’re giggling like idiots, tears in your eyes. 

“I thought that I could manage life without you” he starts, and you let him intertwine your fingers. “I thought we could go back to being happy without being in love. That we’d be better at a distance, but I was so wrong. The only thing that matters is that you make me happier than I ever thought I could be, and if you let me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way. Fighting to make us work. I already made the mistake of giving you away once, I'll never make it again"

"Will you marry me?”

You waste no time in kissing him, big smiles barely making it a kiss, but you don’t care. You don’t care because San just asked you to marry him. Because he’s lifting you up and spinning you around and kissing you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. And for the first time in a while, you’re happy. So happy you could burst, laughing like you haven’t since you let him go. 

“Do you think we should go get married?” he asks, swaying you around in his arms. You stare up at him, snorting. 

“Maybe let’s wait till tomorrow, when our friends aren’t drunk off their faces, you know?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’re the only thing that could ever hold his attention. How could you ever convince yourself even for one second that you didn’t want to fight for him? 

bonus:

Yunho’s slowly munching on a croissant, head resting on Mingi’s shoulder – who’s barely awake. You fear Wooyoung’s not even on your same astral plane right now, forehead against the table and hand gripping a coffee cup for dear life. Yeosang’s head is thrown back against the wall, he’s sipping slowly at his own coffee. It almost makes you think that you and San walking hand in hand could go unnoticed. 

“Is that a ring?” you should’ve known Seonghwa’s sharp eyes wouldn’t miss it. After all, he’s the only one remotely awake. That, and he’s the only one not wearing sunglasses at the breakfast table. Lethargically, your friends’ faces emerge from behind the shades. Various sets of eyes squint in your direction as you come closer. 

“Holy fuck you got back together” surprisingly, the voice is Wooyoung’s, though he sounds exactly like he just came back from the dead. 

“Technically, we got engaged,” San points out. The words have barely left his mouth that suddenly his best friend is up and asking what, how, when, and why?! Eliciting various groans and shut the fuck ups. 

“My birthday wish came true!” he throws himself at you both, squeezing you in a hug. Over his shoulder, you look at Yeosang. Despite his tired face, he smiles at you. So do the rest of your friends.

“Alright so, wedding tonight before we leave?” Wooyoung smirks all too enthusiastically, and you hear Seonghwa mumble as long as we drink juice, eliciting a round of quiet laughs.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Medic!Reader

It's time for more soft Bumblebee x Reader content because the world always needs more. This one has Medic!Reader patching Bee up after the events of episode 18, so if you haven't seen that far ahead then spoilers!!

You'd never seen him remain in power down for so long, but considering the shape Bumblebee had been in when you first saw him, you didn't begrudge the Scout a well deserved rest. Even if it had come at the expense of your own…

Unable to sleep for many reasons, you checked your phone for the time, and couldn't stop your tired eyes from widening as you saw it was already close to five in the evening. Considering the Maltos had called you around six or so in the morning, that meant you'd been in the Dugout for over ten hours. It was impossible to believe so much had happened since that first slightly panicky call from Dot; just her synopsis of the series of events that had led to an unconscious, injured Bumblebee in the Dugout had taken the entirety of the half hour drive from your home to theirs. You'd pushed the terrifying details of underground bot fights to the side in favor of focusing on your patient, who only had you until Ratchet could return from his current mission across the globe and find a way to meet him somewhere clandestine for more secret repairs.

Though you were far from confident working on your own, you'd patched up the worst of the Scout's injuries to the very best of your abilities, and were at least certain it would cause him no further pain. Unfortunately you didn't have the tools to repair his armor completely, and GHOST would have had questions if you dropped by on your day off to grab the necessary supplies. Technically that meant you'd done everything you could for Bumblebee at the moment, but you still couldn't bring yourself to leave. A subtle twitch along his frame from what you assumed was a dream made you smile, affection and protective instinct rising up inside you.

In your defense, you hadn't seen Bee much since the events at the Racetrack. Between your job patching up the bots and the need to keep GHOST in the dark, you'd had little time to speak over covert channels and none to arrange a meeting of any kind. All you'd really been able to confirm was that he was alive, and that Optimus had a distant optic on him. This chance to sit with him on his berth and ensure he got the care he required was something you needed more than you cared to admit.

Not especially concerned about your own sleepiness, you pushed down a yawn and walked to the head of the berth where the Malto kids had lovingly piled a mountain of pillows beneath their beloved teacher's helm. You couldn't help but smile again at the utterly adorable sight and everything that had led up to it. Goodness, the kids had been so worried for his sake, asking repeatedly if there was anything they could do to help. It had taken a solid five minutes of assurances before they'd finally left you to your work, and that was only after you'd allowed them to ensure he was tucked in and comfortable. Looking over the mass mosaic of human sized blankets they'd stacked over the scout warmed your heart. 

A soft murmur in his sleep and a resulting twitch of his arm prompted you to check your work for the umpteenth time, lest Bumblebee wake to any pain or discomfort that you might have missed previously, and you kneeled by his side without a word for a better look. Using as little pressure as possible, you brushed your fingertips over the warped metal with a small cringe of sympathy as you traced the outline left by the massive tooth that had cracked right through his armor. It wasn't the only ugly injury he'd endured since your last meeting. You had noticed countless others at various stages of healing, telling you the Scout had been living a rough life since his recent fateful encounter with GHOST. The sympathy you felt was matched only by boundless hatred for your backwards employer.

Hearing a small hitch in his peaceful snores, you withdrew your hands in fear you'd caused unwanted pain, but a shift of his helm and a twitch of his doorwings signaled the mech was waking up regardless. Before you could move back to a more respectable distance, Bumblebee opened his optics with a bit of a start.

"Who's there?" he slurred in a rush, accustomed to waking up on alert but still far too bleary to be intimidating. You merely waved and remained where you were, giving his optics a moment to adjust to the dim lighting before they settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

"Hey, sleepyhead." you greeted gently, trying so hard to keep the overwhelming emotions out of your voice. As happy as you'd been to see him at all, being in his presence again for the first time in weeks had your heart absolutely aching. Goodness, it was impossible to put into words just how deeply you'd missed him. 

"Y/N?" he said with more clarity, the shock of seeing you bringing more of his processor online. Catching himself, he cleared his vents and backtracked into the far more formal register you two used when others might overhear, rolling onto his side and lifting his upper body to face you at a more respectable distance. "Sorry, I mean, uh, Doctor Y/N." 

You held up your hands to encourage him to relax, chuckling softly at the little song and dance the two of you maintained to keep your relationship secret. "You can drop that, it's just us."

Bumblebee sighed in a small measure of relief, doorwings relaxing on his back as he looked past you to the dim room beyond. "Where-?" he cut off as soon as his sharp optics traced the details of his private room, which had been left untouched after his sudden departure. A flurry of emotions passed over his face, confusion chief among them, and he furrowed his brows in concentration as he searched his still halfway offline processor for answers. Questions started spilling forth when he turned back to you. "How did I get back to the Dugout? Isn't GHOST keeping this place under wraps? What about the-?"

Talking through his thoughts allowed enough memories to resurface for Bee to connect the pieces, and before you could offer any kind of explanation or assurance his face lit up with alarm and he sat upright with enough force to send multiple blankets and pillows flying across the room.

"The kids!" he cried out in a near panic, looking ready to throw himself off the berth and charge out to face any potential threat to his family. "Are they okay? The last thing I remember is Mandroid-"

Medical training to keep a patient calm kicked into gear. You stood upright and held up your hands to get his attention as quickly as you could, trying not to slip on the tangled nest of blankets in your hurry.

"They're all grounded, but they're fine!" you explained as soon as his optics were on you, quieting your voice when the news allowed him to sigh and sit back in open relief. Considering how his night had gone, you didn't blame him for the panic. Between his injuries, Mandroid returning, the danger to the kids… It seemed best to give him a very simplified summary of what had happened after he'd passed out.

"They had to tell Dot and Alex about you so they could call me, but you only needed a patch job and a few infusions." you explained, leaving out the whirlwind of emotions you'd pushed through while providing his care. Seeing the bot you adored after weeks apart, only to have him presented unconscious and dangerously low on energon with fresh injuries to boot, had been a little much for your exhausted brain to endure at the crack of dawn. It hadn't helped that you'd been unable to get any sleep since thanks to your nagging concern, and you had to smother a yawn just to finish talking. "Thankfully I'm off duty for today, so I've been able to keep an eye on you."

Bumblebee went quiet for a moment to process, optics averting in thought before the information settled and he shook his helm with a somewhat heavy sigh. Returning his gaze to you, he replaced his thoughtful frown with a soft and somewhat bashful smile, emotions reserved as always.

"Sorry about your day off." he said quietly, somehow conveying his boundless gratitude for all you'd done in the form of a humble apology. 

You chuckled, but the words broke a dam within you, cracking right through your efforts to stay strong and allowing a flood of emotions to wash over your heart. The two of you had been close for a while, had been more than friends longer than anyone knew, but these past few weeks and especially the previous twelve hours had made it abundantly clear just how deeply you cared for this mech. Though you weren't quite ready for the "L" word yet, you weren't sure how you'd ever handle losing him, and even this brief scare had made it abundantly apparent the very idea terrified you. It was far too much to process on so little sleep.

Thankful for the dim lighting, you bit down on a quivering lip for as long as you could before the ache became too much to bear. Abandoning a playful quip in reply, you threw your arms about his neck for a hug, something you'd never before been brave enough to do. Bumblebee startled and made what sounded like a gasp of surprise, but made no effort to move away. The hum of his spark was tangible against your skin, and you welcomed it with a sound of pained relief. You allowed your voice to crack as you drank in every little bit of his presence. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Before embarrassment could make you doubt the gesture of affection, a sizable arm tenderly wrapped about your tiny form, his warm armor all but enshrouding you as he pulled you close. You allowed a few tears to splash against his yellow paint, sighing as the world finally seemed to make sense for the first time in weeks. It wasn't clear how long the two of you stayed like that before you rediscovered your voice. "It's really good to see you again, Bee. I missed you."

"I missed you too." he replied softly, thumb stroking comfortingly up and down your back as he took his time letting you go. When he finally did so it was only partly, his grip loosening but his hand staying on your back as he leaned away to look at you while he spoke. Regret was heavy in every syllable. "I would have tried to send more messages, or visit, but-"

"I know, Optimus has kept me in the loop." you said, interrupting only to prevent him from blaming himself further. You allowed your hands to linger on his shoulders, the divot of a somewhat fresh scar bumping against your fingers as you did so, bringing back a host of worries that had followed you for weeks. "I've been so worried they'd hurt you, or catch you, or-"

It was his turn to interrupt out of concern. "Hey, I'm fine now, right?" he said playfully, slipping a hand beneath your chin. The touch warmed your heart, especially as he guided you to look up at him with the gentlest lift of his digits. His face softened in the way it often did when he opened up, optics brightening and flicking away as the faintest hint of a pink flush bloomed across his cheeks. "Thanks to you, anyway."

The praise hit its mark, and you dropped your gaze to hide a reciprocal blush, unsure how the two of you had gotten so soft for one another. Perhaps the absence had made all your tiptoeing around seem foolish now that the stakes were clarified. If the two of you could lose each other any day, what good did it do to hide and delay?

In addition to melting your heart, his words pinged a medical protocol in the back of your mind, and your concern couldn't help but gently steer the conversation to his care. A careful hand on his guided the attention there first. "You'll still need some reconstruction, I'm not big or strong enough to handle that without my tools." you explained, being a bit more openly tender than usual as you traced your fingers over the welds you'd applied to clean up the mangled armor and mesh. Bumblebee looked ready to reply with a compliment to counteract your matter of fact assessment, but you cut him off, the strain of so much emotional turmoil on just a few hours of sleep making you quite weary. It took everything not to yawn as you spoke. "You should also keep resting up, I can tell you've been pushing it lately."

Bumblebee didn't argue, but you knew from experience he would catch that you were tired, and as soon as he opened his mouth you were proven correct. "Maybe, but I bet you could use some sleep too." 

"I'm fine. I'll sleep later." you assured with a wave of your hand, hoping to get him back in power down before it became too difficult to hide the full extent of your exhaustion. You knew it was futile now that Bee had figured you out, but you still had to try. It was simply impossible for you to just admit you had needs without being pushed.

"If I need rest, so do you." Bumblebee countered as expected, and for once his gentle concern cut right through your walls. Before you could nod and suggest grabbing some of the many pillows and blankets to construct yourself a makeshift bed in the corner, the Scout cleared his vents and made a small space beside himself, one perfectly sized for you. His voice faltered through an adorable attempt to sound smooth. "There's… plenty of room on this berth."

It was impossible to deny how perfectly you'd fit in the space between his arm and his chest, or how warm and safe you'd feel getting some much needed sleep beside his spark, but before you could reply Bumblebee finally noticed the ridiculous abundance of blankets and pillows that had been layered around him. "There's also plenty of… pillows and blankets too… why… why are there so many-?"

You laughed before you could stop yourself, a bit too loopy from a lack of sleep to explain how his students had gone to great efforts to ensure he was comfortable. "Very long story." 

"Sounds like something for after we wake up." he said with a soft chuckle, able to hazard a guess as to how he'd ended up cocooned. Nodding in agreement, you allowed yourself to yawn and give your eyes a sleepy rub, suddenly unable to resist curling up and letting your body get the rest it needed. It hardly mattered that your sleep schedule would be a mess when this was done. 

Bumblebee shifted backwards to make more room, awkwardness returning as he tried to ensure you had a comfortable spot with plenty of space. "Here, let me uh… oh!"

Too tired to feel any kind of embarrassment, you plopped down just beside his chassis, facing his front and resting your head on his shoulder. It was perhaps the closest the two of you had ever been, and nothing had ever felt more right. The hum of his spark quickened from the contact, but from the way he curled protectively around your smaller form you knew it was far from unwelcome. Still, you looked up to him for explicit confirmation before getting settled. "This okay?"

"Yeah, definitely." he replied easily, helpfully offering all the blankets and pillows you needed before getting comfortable at your side. You didn't fail to notice how he adjusted your bedding after you'd settled into the crook of his arm, his digits lingering for the shortest fraction of a second on your arms before he laid his helm back down with a whisper. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Bee." you replied just before sleep claimed you, your last sensation the warmth of his frame curled lovingly around your own. 

[brawlingdiscontent]

CW: Mentions of death and suicide, spoilers for all of Interview with the Vampire season 2 

In season 2, episode 5, “Don’t be afraid, just start the tape,” a number of key questions circle around Daniel and Louis: Why did Louis pick Daniel to go home with him? Why did he ultimately save Daniel from Armand? This post unpacks these through a close reading of the episode and explores how they shed light on 2022 Louis’ character arc. (AKA, I decided to be a huge dork about this episode!)

Near the top of the episode, Daniel raises his “outstanding questions” about 1973 with Louis: “...like why you talked to me in the first place?” He doesn’t buy Louis’ unsatisfactory and avoidant answers, but Louis succeeds in dodging his questions with another – “What’s the next thing you remember?” 

In the flashback, we see Louis reject Daniel’s sexual proposition because, as 2022 Louis tells Daniel, “you offered something off the menu.” But what, exactly, is that?

Louis’ problem is his inability to examine or work through the massive amount of pain he carries, relying instead on various strategies of avoidance (which, for example, form the spine of his Paris life). The result is Louis’ dissociation and separation from himself. In 1973, the resulting internal pressure has culminated in a self-destructive spiral (128 boys) from which Louis desperately needs an outlet—which leads to what present-day Daniel describes as a “floundering” Louis, “eager to spill” “tape after tape of emotional upchuck”—burning with the need to vent the pain held inside and repressed for so long.

Later Louis tells Armand, “the ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating than decades spent with you!” which Armand mishears as Louis saying that DANIEL is fascinating (and obsesses over this—more on Armand later). But what Louis actually says is the hours spent together were exciting and fascinating, in other words, the experience Daniel afforded, the interview. So what was this experience?

While the interview is valuable, not just any interview or interviewer would do the trick. Daniel is more than ”an eager black hole” absorbing others’ stories, and the experience is more to Louis than just having a listening ear.

The key, surprisingly, lies at the point where Louis snaps. Deep in reflection and depression, Louis tells Daniel that after Claudia set off on her planned Europe trip he thought about killing himself, staying in the park until the sun came up. And instead of empathizing Daniel gets mad: 

Daniel: “Are you kidding me? What, you were just gonna end it!? I mean, what about life? Like, joyrides and night swimming, and marriage, and cancer, and all of that till the death rattle? I mean we gotta carry all this shit and you had a ticket out and you were just gonna throw it away?..... you were given the gift, and I’ve been hearing you bitch the night about it.”

Upon Louis’ answering outrage, Daniel adds: “I mean, you don’t understand the meaning of your own story.”

While, to be clear, Daniel also doesn’t know the meaning of Louis’ story and his take on it is pretty bad (the meaning is ‘make Daniel a vampire??’) The provocation within these words and his call to life are very valuable. When Louis examines his existence he only finds meaning in pain, which makes him afraid to look closer and makes death seem the only viable escape. Daniel, even with all his struggles, affirms life through its challenges and prompts Louis to interrogate his own narratives about his story, which fixates on the burdens of vampiric existence. 

Meanwhile, in Louis’ immediate environment, the only thing Armand knows how to affirm is death, which we soon watch him try to coax Daniel into. (Not taking sides on Armand, here. I think both Armand lovers and haters can agree that whatever else he may be he is a Sad Little Muffin). Throughout season two Armand repeatedly discourages Louis from engaging with his pain. For one brief example, in 2.1 when Louis cries when discussing Claudia with Daniel, Armand calls for a break and tells Louis he's ‘lost control of the interview’. I think we can read multiple motivations into Armand’s actions: that he’s intervening both for Louis’ sake as he’s afraid that confronting the pain will kill him (as it almost did that night in 1973) AND that he doesn’t want his lies exposed— he’s a complex creature.

Figuratively, for Louis’ arc, Armand represents fiction and illusion. That’s what the theatre’s about, and his big-boss persona hiding a fragile gremlin, and even his ‘Rashid’ disguise. He generally prefers pleasing fantasies and fictionalized narratives—including wilfully ignoring the reason that Louis is with him in 2022 (the name, unspoken in their home for 23 years)—to painful truth. In this respect and others, he is the exact counter to Daniel (which makes them such a fascinating pair).

Where Armand is death, Daniel is life. Where Armand is illusion, Daniel is truth. By offering the opposite of Louis’ current environment, life and truth, and giving him permission/encouragement to address his pain, Daniel becomes a source of fascination that Armand can’t pin down. (And how could he figure out that it’s Daniel’s joy for life and zest for truth that’s the source of Louis’ fascination, when Armand, himself, has little of his own.)

However, Louis doesn’t understand the gift that Daniel offers him in the moment. Instead, injured by the provocation, he lashes out and attacks Daniel. It’s what happens later, in the fight with Armand, that cracks things open for him.

Louis and Armand’s fight is the emotional equivalent of them digging their fingers in each other’s open wounds. One of the last things that Armand says to Louis before the latter runs onto the roof is: “...[Claudia] didn’t love you, not like he did. Not like I have.” Louis says, “I know. I know! Yes. I know. Thank you for saying it. It’s all creeping back…” And then after some more raving and a, “She’s calling me”, now high off his mind from Daniel’s drug-laced blood, Louis runs onto the roof. 

Louis running out into the daylight is not so much a deliberate suicide attempt as it is an externalization of his pain, triggered by the memories. His burnt and charred body actualizes the pain that he always carries inside, like a festering wound, but is only now facing. 

While in this painful moment of (literal) exposure, Louis is living out the show’s tagline “memory is a monster” an alternate tagline could also be drawn from it – “the truth, even if painful, will set you free’—which Louis comes to recognize. His pained “thank you for saying it” to Armand after the latter's devastating remarks about Claudia is about Louis’ need to confront the pain. I’m not at all saying that Claudia didn’t love Louis (even Armand’s wording modifies this “not like he did. Not like I have”), but rather that Armand’s words, combined with Daniel’s assertion that Louis doesn’t know the meaning of his own story, draw attention to the fact that the narrative he’s been crafting for himself is one that both preserves his pain, and avoids engaging with or working through it. (Which will eventually lead to bigger discoveries like “I didn’t realize it was a gift”.)

Despite the horrific experience of being burned, as he lies in bed recovering Louis finds that the remembering is worth it, making him realize the value of Daniel’s questioning—and feel the need to return the gift by saving Daniel’s life, where only a few days before he would have drained him had Armand not intervened.

Daniel doesn’t need to live as a testament to Louis and Armand’s relationship—that’s just the bullshit Louis tells Armand to get him to go along with it. Daniel’s high off his mind, but his instincts have helped Louis to see that Louis’ own is one of the “stories that need telling,” and handed him the key he needs to move through his grief. My favourite little detail about this scene is the light hanging above Daniel’s head as Louis offers his pep talk. Daniel sheds light for Louis, so Louis, in exchange, offers him a different kind of metaphorical light: words for when things get tough. They offer each other mutual support (best bros!!)—in a way that Louis’ two hubbies have so far been unable to do. 

Unfortunately, when Armand wipes Louis’ memories of this encounter, the guiding light Daniel offered is gone, too—instead going on to become a central part of Louis' season two character arc once the memories are recovered. 

The question then emerges—if Daniel’s speech was so valuable and healing, why the memory wipes? 

There’s two options: Louis may have recognized the value of what Daniel offered but have still been unprepared to examine his pain, and so asked Armand to erase the memories. The other option is that, Armand, worried about another suicide attempt and Louis leaving him, took away that choice for him by erasing the memory. (What really strikes me here are the parallels between Armand and Lestat. Lestat kidnaps Claudia and threatens to kill her to prevent Louis from leaving him but also out of a desire to save Louis’ life, given his despair at Claudia’s absence. Armand arguably operates in the same way. Both do messed up things for somewhat pure as well as selfish reasons).

I think what actually happened could be somewhere in the middle of these two options—Armand manipulating/convincing Louis into erasing the memory, and a pained, still-healing Louis agreeing. And then of course, in typical Armand fashion, when the topic comes up, he dodges accountability with a, ‘But it was your idea, babe.’)

And yet, we see the effectiveness of Daniel’s intervention through the progress they make in the new interview session and once Louis recovers these memories in 2022—for example, we see Louis go from torturing Daniel for probing too far into Claudia, to facing deeply painful memories of her and acceding to Lestat’s version of the story of Claudia’s turning.

As a form of summary, we actually see this whole dynamic I’ve detailed play out in the beginning of the episode in Dubai (and that’s what’s so perfect about the writing!!)—when Daniel says ‘grab that’ and Louis asks about what he’s grabbing:

Louis (recorded): “Funny thing, trying to remember what occupied one’s time, when one was ignorant of the plotting around him.” Daniel: It’s a thing with syntax, I see it a lot. The impersonal pronoun ‘one’—one’s time, one didn’t—becomes the third person ‘him’. Stops being ‘I’ or ‘me’. Louis: And that indicates what? Daniel: You’re circling something, you’re getting close to something you want distance from. Language as a chicken exit on a roller coaster. Armand: Or it’s daytime and a vampire of Louis’ age is fighting the narcoleptic pull of the sun.

It’s the same ditty - Louis dissociates, Daniel identifies the pain point, and Armand tries to change the subject. 

What’s lovely, then, is how this little exchange is prologue to the past playing out yet again the present. And so it comes to pass a few episodes later that Daniel uses his skills as a “bright young reporter with a point of view” to once again shine a light for Louis, getting him to see past the pain, and exposing the truth (Daniel voice: He didn’t save you, Lestat did!)

In conclusion: Best bros 4 eva!!

Thanks for reading! Medal for you, if you got this far!