#ignore how crappy i am at romance

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death.

This story is mostly inspired by Jaybirbie's prompt | Master post | Next?

"Hey, sweetheart?" Danny called, quickly jotting down the last sentence for his paper. He'd have to remember to go back and reread it and make sure he didn't trail off into another tangent. He swears he wasn't this bad at managing his ADHD back in Amity...

"Yes, Danny?" Damian asked, turning back from the door to face him as he scrolled further down the story he was reading. The familiar font of Gotham City's gazette blurred as a picture of Mr. Freeze and Penguin finally loaded. So that's what was going on. Danny should have known; the bats already dealt with the other usual rouges, and these two were next on the list.

"Can you walk with me? I just know Nancy and her boyfriend are out there, waiting. I really don't want to deal with them again... We could spend more time at my place? Tucker sent me another movie, and I'm unsure if I should watch it alone after last time." Danny pleaded, quickly shoving all of his papers into his bag. He'd deal with straightening them out later, it wasn't like his professors weren't used to his wrinkled essays at this point.

However, he should probably redo the blueprints for Workshop. Mr. Anthlow was a hardass, but nothing could compare to his anger when a student handed in wrinkled blueprints; he claimed he wasn't going to have another 'Tanner' incident on his watch, whatever the heck that meant.

He was not looking forward to whatever Nancy wanted to talk to him about, she looked excited. Which could only mean bad things for him; considering the last time she was excited, he ended up spending time with Bane of all people. And there was no way her boyfriend was just going to let Danny get away again.

Damian grimaces, finally looking up and away from his phone. "I'm sorry beloved..." he held up the device just in time to show an incoming text from his Father, "I promised Father I'd be home a while ago. And with what's happening down on-"

"It's ok, I'll just head out the back door," Danny cut in, seeing the start of guilt on his boyfriend's face. He knew how much Danny hated having to deal with those two, and the fact Damian hasn't been able to even introduce himself to them hasn't helped. With a smile, Danny scooped up his textbooks and made his way to stand in front of Damian, "They can't bother me if they don't see me!"

Unsurprisingly, Danny could feel the guilt grow and start to float around Damian as the boy glanced at his phone, the message tone sounding out again in warning.

Danny only met Damian's father once; it was just a simple shake of hands and sharing names before the man ran off, but it did leave an impression. The man felt tired and paranoid; like, to the point Danny kind of wanted to drag Jazz over and lock the two of them in a room, paranoid. (Danny wants to say he's never seen someone that paranoid, but he'd be lying. He looks in the mirror after all.)

The point is; Danny's only met the man once, but that was enough for him to know that the man would tear down the world if he thought for even a second that one of his kids was in danger. This meant, that if Damian didn't go and reassure his father that he was alive and safe within the next sixty or so seconds, then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be another date for at least another week.

And considering this "study date" was supposed to make up for the last one Damian had missed because of his Father? Yeah, Danny wasn't going to be happy if Damian got grounded or dragged into another 'surprise' family road trip because his father was convinced his children would be dead before the 'yearly' planned get-together in November.

They had a trip to the zoo planned for tomorrow, and Delilah was supposed to be allowed out with her kids. This would be Delilah's first public outing since her kids' birth. There's no way Danny was going to allow Damian to miss that. (he swears to the ancients, if there was a rouge attack he was going to kill someone, Dark Dan's future be damned.)

Lifting his heels off the ground so he could stand on his tiptoes, Danny snagged Damian's arm and pulled him down so he could kiss his cheek. "I'll get home safe, just focus on keeping your dad from going insane. We've got a date at the zoo tomorrow and we're not missing it even if your father becomes the next city rogue."

Damian wrapped his arms around Danny, trapping him in a hug as he sighed in fond frustration. "I promise I won't miss it, ok? I'll be there."

Danny rolled his eyes and pushed Damian back, dropping back to stand on the ground, "You better, 'cause hell hath no fury like a gorilla denied the chance to meet her human best friend's boyfriend."

Damian snorted, before looking away and pretending to cough. Danny moved his textbooks to rest more securely in one of his arms, so he could point at his boyfriend. "I'm not kidding, if I show up tomorrow and tell her all about my life and you're not there, she will break out and track you down. I won't stop her either, you'd deserve whatever she does to you."

"Alright, alright. I get it, and I already promised I'd be there didn't I?" Damian chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender. Which would have been cute if it wasn't for the fact that his phone went off again, this time in an insistent buzzing. His eldest brother's ringtone; which meant Damian was going to be busy for a while.

Cursing, Damian turned and answered, "I'm in the middle of something, this better be important Grayson," glancing back at Danny, he mouthed for him to wait a moment as his brother started talking.

Smiling, Danny shook his head, snatched Damian's jacket, and started making his way out the door. There was no way Damian would finish this phone call any time soon. Danny's learned not to wait after the last four times this happened. Damian turned back with betrayed eyes, but the urgent voice of his brother buzzing even louder held him back. Waving goodbye with a smile, Danny shut the door and started making his way down the hall.

He'd have to ask Damian what happened tomorrow, Grayson didn't usually call him, especially when he knew Damian was spending time with Danny. He said it had something to do with how it was sacrilege to interrupt time spent with a significant other. Danny had wanted to ask him more about it but hadn't gotten the chance when The Riddler crashed their spontaneous meeting.

Speaking of The Riddler, Danny's social science paper wasn't looking too hot right now. He'd have to block out a time for him to work on that at some point this week. He wasn't doing anything on Friday, well, besides his early morning classes. That should work...

"Hey, Danny!" someone called, pulling him out of his musing. Glancing up, Danny internally groaned when he noticed Nancy waving at him in sheer delight. Giving her a half-hearted wave, Danny sped up and continued making his way to the back of the library. If he was quick enough maybe he could-

To his dismay, Nancy's boyfriend stepped out from behind one of the shelves and latched onto his arm. Tightly.

Just great, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Curse his inability to pay attention when he got lost in thought. Damn ADHD. Blasted non-existent spatial awareness. This was what he got for relying on his ghost sense, he just knows it.

"She said hi, kind of rude of you to just keep walking, Kid." Wyatt huffed, roughly dragging Danny back and towards his girlfriend. Nancy smiled brightly as Wyatt let him go, allowing Nancy to weave her arm with Danny's and practically drag him toward the front of the building.

"There's this big party going on tonight, some Jr invited us. He said it was going to be a night to remember! You should totally come with us, Danny! My friend Shela said she was bringing her nerdy freshmen too! I just know you'd fit right in with them!" Nancy squealed excitedly, shaking Danny as they finally made it to the front doors.

One of the desk attendants rolled their eyes at them as Danny glanced over, hoping that Barbara might intervene. No such luck, she was nowhere in sight, probably off somewhere shelving books. So much for that plan.

"uh, thanks, but I already-" Danny tried, stopping when Nancy scoffed and yanked him out the door and into the frosty night. "Damn, it's cold!" Wyatt cursed, taking his jacket off and quickly handing it over to Nancy. She let go of Danny and pulled it on, then stared at Danny for a moment, "Put your coat on Danny, no way in hell am I letting my kid catch a cold!"

Rolling his eyes, Danny wrapped Damian's coat over his shoulders. He was too lazy to actually put it on, not when that meant handing his textbooks over. The last time he did that, Nancy got bored and started doodling all over them. (how she had managed to do that in the little time it took to put a hoodie on, Danny wasn't sure.)

"I just want to go home, Nancy. I'm not really a party person." Danny sighed, allowing Nancy to drag him down the dark streets. His apartment was in this general direction anyway. Nancy turned to her boyfriend with a huff, "Wyatt! make him come with us!"

"Let the nerd do what he wants, it's not like it affects us if he kicks the bucket all alone," Wyatt grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Ouch, but true. Please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen-

"But Shela said she was bringing Carly!" Nancy turned back to Danny, a pout clear on her face, "You two would be so cute together! she's nerdy just like you! And she's totally into all those murder mystery shows you watch!"

Damn it. Not this crap again.

"That's nice, Nancy, but I'm not interested. I already told you guys, I have a boyfriend," Danny sighed, trying to gently extract his arm from hers; for a human, Nancy sure had one heck of a grip.

"Yeah, right," Wyatt snorted, patting Danny's back, completely ignoring the fact that Danny was literally wearing someone else's jacket. "We'll believe you when you introduce us, until then. You're a virgin loser."

And there we go, people; the reason Danny wanted to crawl into the sewer and die whenever he saw these two. They were nice, don't get him wrong, but they were also stubborn idiots.

"Being a virgin has nothing to do with my relationship status, Wyatt. I'm ace. you've known this since the first time we talked." Danny grumbled, allowing Nancy to drag him down another street. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going now, but he was too tired to care at this point.

If these self-claimed 'Parents' of his wanted to drag him to this stupid party, then fine. Whatever. It's not like Danny had any other plans tonight anyway.

"Asexuality isn't a thing man," Wyatt huffed, speeding up so he could guide them in the right direction now that they were heading into a rougher patch of buildings. Danny could see the man was shivering, though trying to act tough in front of Nancy. Smirking, Danny sent a cold breeze his way. The man scowled up at the sky, cursing quietly.

"Yeah!" Nancy agreed, smiling brightly down at Danny without a care in the world. Like they didn't have this conversation every other week. "You just haven't met the right person yet, Danny! And I know how awkward it is to admit that you're staying celibate until marriage, but you don't have to hide it behind being ace."

Taking a deep breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on not shouting out of frustration. The celibate comment was new, the acephobia, not so much. "Ok, first of all; Asexuality is a thing, which many people ARE. Literally, 1% of the world is ace. That's over 70 million people. Second of all, I'm not celibate, and I'm not sure if you even know what that means, considering you know I was raised Atheist."

"What does being an Atheist have to do with celibacy?" Nancy asked, tilting her head to look at him. Danny groaned, smacking his forehead against his textbooks. He was NOT going to explain this to them tonight.

"You know what, Nancy? It doesn't matter." Danny huffed, trying again to gently pry her hands off. He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wanted to go back to Amity. Maybe go to the realms and play with Cujo. He did NOT want to deal with these idiots.

Wyatt stopped walking and turned to face them, rolling his eyes as Nancy pouted at Danny. "Come on babe, let the loser go. He obviously doesn't appreciate your efforts."

"but who else is going to convince him to live a little? He's just going to go back to his apartment and sulk by himself!" Nancy cried, tightening her grip again.

"Who cares what the kid does, Nancy? let the dude die a virgin loser. Now let's go, we're already late as is."

"But I really want him to-," Nancy tried, cutting herself off, as both she and Danny spotted a cloaked person appear out of the shadows behind Wyatt.

Wyatt lifted his brow before slowly turning to see what the two of them were staring at. The cloaked figure suddenly whacked him over the head with a metal pole before he could fully turn around. Wyatt's body dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, making Nancy scream, "Wyatt!"

Shit, Danny stepped back, trying to pull Nancy with him as the cloak dude tossed the metal pole to the side with a loud clank. Which was confusing, why would he through away his weapon?

"Shut her up!" the cloak dude cried, bending down to grab Wyatt's arms. He better not be telling Danny to do that, because that would just be stupid and- Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked people flooded out of the darkness and surrounded them. That answered Danny's questions at least.

Danny tensed up as a couple of the people tried to grab onto him. Quickly pulling Nancy back, successfully this time, Danny glanced around to try and find an exit. He couldn't do anything crazy right now, not unless he wanted to give away his secret, but some self-defense should be fine.

Nancy suddenly let go of his arm and smacked one of the cloaked people in the face, "Don't you fucking dare touch me! Wyatt! Kid, get out of here!"

Danny turned to her in alarm, eyes wide in horror as she quickly disappeared into the cloaked crowd. Another cloaked person managed to latch onto Danny's shoulder, reminding him to focus on his situation. Quickly stepping back, he slammed into the man grabbing him, knocking his grip loose. Ducking under another attempt, Danny swung out his leg and tripped the dude into two others.

Twisting to try and make his way over to where he figured Nancy was, Danny dropped his textbooks and punched someone in the face. Damian's jacket was yanked off his shoulders, making him turn with a growl. Punching another person in the face, Danny lunged at the group.

"Hurry! before the bats find us!" the supposed leader cried, making even more cloaked people surround Danny. There was no way a normal civilian would be able to fight their way out of this, so Danny would have to allow himself to be caught soon. Only after biting and scratching the fuck out of them though. Just because he had to let them catch him, doesn't mean he has to make it easy.

~30 min later

Danny stared at the leader as the man droned on and on about needing the right sacrifice for the ritual to work. Nancy and Wyatt grumbled behind him, agreements from the other kidnapped victims filling Danny's ears like bees.

"The sacrifice shall be the one who treads the veil between life and death, the one who's beloved by the spirits as their own! He shall be pale as a corpse, his body kissed by death many times throughout his life. His hair as black as the sky on a moonless night, cradled by the moon since birth." Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem droned on dramatically, reverently dragging his finger down the old dusty tome's page,

"so Mr. Wayne?" Nancy huffed, pressing her back into Danny's side. Wyatt chuckled, shoving his foot into Danny's knee, "No, it's totally Mr. Drake he's talking about. Have you seen that dude's eyebags? they make him look like a ghost."

One of the strangers leaned over, rolling their eyes, "No, it's got to be Mr. Dent. The dude's literally half living half not."

"No, Two-Face is half insane, half burnt chicken. Ain't nothing about him going to please ghosts. He was a fucking lawyer, for Christ shake." another guy added.

"the dude said 'he' which crossed out half of y'all," Danny added, glancing at the group around him. The women blinked and then rolled their eyes; only in Gotham would they get kidnapped and not actually be needed.

"Assholes," Nancy huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and down at him, her face set into a frown, "You good, kid? you're like freezing cold."

"I'm fine," Danny huffed, focusing back on the leader. He could just feel the old magic rolling off the book; this was something dangerous, especially in this dipshit's hands. Ancients, he was going to have to do everything he could to keep the man from actually doing the ritual or mess it up if the bats didn't get here in time.

One of the cloaked people suddenly dragged a camera out from a side room, grumbling about networks and livestreams being shit. Huh, well that would definitely help provide their location to the bats. They must be really inexperienced cultists then...

"The sacrifice shall fall into our hands by fate's design. The sacrifice is here and waiting for what his whole life was meant for. Now-"

"Elder!" one of the other cloaked figures cried, waving their phone in the air in excitement. Dread quickly filled Danny's stomach.

"All the bats and birds are busy dealing with those scoundrels they call rouges! If we hurry, we can complete the ritual before they can interfere!"

"Perfect!" Mr. 'Elder', cheered, slamming the tome closed and handing it off to one of the others. "So?" Mr. Elder started, turning to face them with a sharp grin, "Who's it going to be?"

Danny glanced at the group behind him, all of them having gone silent as the cloaked group started pulling out their ritual things, one of which was a very blood-stained knife.

Mr. Elder started circling them, humming and hawing as he studied each one of them. He stopped next to Wyatt, studying him intently.

Quickly weighing his options, Danny straightened up and glared at the man, "I'll be your sacrifice."

Immediately Nancy leaned away from him with a gasp, Wyatt's foot dropping to the floor with a thud. "Danny, no!" Nancy hissed, turning her body so she could face him. Danny didn't glance at her, just continued glaring at the cultist. The cult leader laughed, "Well then. So it shall be! You heard the sacrifice, tie him to the chair!"

With everyone watching, all Danny could do was tense as four of the followers walked over and pulled him up. "No!" Nancy shouted, leaning over and grabbing onto him. Wyatt reached out to Nancy, wanting to pull her back. The men tensed up, ready to interfere. Quickly pulling back, Danny frowned at Nancy and Wyatt, "I'll be ok, just don't do anything stupid!"

They harshly pulled him up and away again, before Nancy could reply. And because he was already pissed off, he made it as difficult for them as possible as they dragged him to the wooden chair. The camera person focused the lens on them, recording it as they shoved him down to sit and wrapped a bloody rope around his limbs.

So much for thinking they were inexperienced... They've done this before, he knows now. How many times? He wasn't sure, but if he had any say in it after tonight, they'd never do it again.

Once he was securely tied to the chair and gagged, because Danny couldn't help himself but insult them, the cultist started preparing the ritual. Why they hadn't done so beforehand, Danny wasn't sure; that is until one of them sliced a deep gash into his right arm and collected his blood into a bowl.

With a grimace, Danny watched as they mixed his blood with black paint and started drawing a circle around him. The camera dude stepped closer and practically shoved the camera into his face. leaning back, Danny glanced between the camera and the people drawing with his blood.

Suddenly, his arm tingled with ectoplasm, making him panic for a second. he can't heal the wound! not with all the people around him and being recorded! Shit, what had Vlad done last time?? Uh, right! core smothering. He could just smother his core to stop his body from healing. Man, acting like a civilian was a pain in the ass.

Glaring up at the camera now that he wasn't as panicked, Danny watched as the dude stepped back, pulled out a paper, and started reading out loud. "GOTHAM! tonight you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

Did he seriously need the paper just to remember that?

The leader stepped forward when the circle was complete, "Now!" His voice echoed around the silent warehouse, startling the other kidnapped victims. The cameraman turned and focused on him, stepping out of the circle altogether. Danny watched the kidnapped people out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure they weren't hurt during this whole fiasco.

"Let us begin!" the leader cheered, suddenly gripping Danny's shoulders tightly. "Join me as we summon our lord and savior! The great tyrant of the dead! The embodiment of war and bloodshed! The one named PARIAH DARK! THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!!"

Immediately, Danny was both completely terrified and amused. He had been worried that they were going to try and summon some great evil demon, not the fucking old tyrant. He could fight Pariah any day of the week.

No, what terrified him was the fact that because Danny won the right to the crown by defeating Pariah the first time, he had no idea what this summoning was going to do. Was it going to work like they wanted and summon Pariah? cool, great even. He can deal with that, might have to reveal his ghost powers if the fight got dirty, but nothing too bad.

or was it going to summon him because he was the king, and if so? how? Would that even work considering he's the sacrifice? would he just disappear and reappear? This could lead to a lot of questions Danny was NOT ready to answer. Gaslighting everyone here into believing he could fight Pariah as a 'meta' human would be easy, convincing everyone that he's not the ghost king or a ghost AFTER getting summoned; not so easy.

The leader released Danny from his grip as he walked over and snatched the tome from one of his followers. Snapping the book open, the man started chanting without warning, pointing at random people to notify them when it was their turn to start.

It was like watching a school play; all the student's doing as they were taught as their teacher directed from the side. Cultist A slammed the bowl of leftover blood on the ground, splattering the black remnants all over Danny and the circle. Which was gross, Danny was going to have to burn this shirt, because there was no way he was going to get this stain out. Cultist B tossed salt at Danny a few minutes later, smacking him in the face with the small white crystals. Shaking his head, Danny glared at him. Cultist B threw the salt again.

The leader's smile grew as he continued chanting.

Seven other cultists joined in the chanting, waving their hands up and down as their voices echoed around them. Danny glanced nervously around the warehouse, hoping he'd spot one of the bats. This was being broadcast, they should be on their way at the very least.

After another minute of looking, Danny glanced back at the other kidnapped victims. Nancy was balling her eyes out, burying herself into her boyfriend's chest. Wyatt was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure about what to do. Probably feeling guilty because they both knew the leader was going to choose him. A few others were looking away, clearly fearing for his life. The rest watched on, trying to show him through their actions that they were there with him till the end. (whether he 'died' or not)

It was weird, but Danny had to give it to them; Gothmites were badass. He doubted anyone in Amity besides his friends would have been brave enough to watch what was happening. Even if they didn't know if he would live or not.

His core crackled, making him choke a little as he finally felt the pull of the summoning. Well, that's just great. Shaking his head, Danny tried to clear his throat. The summoning was making him feel weird and he did not appreciate it.

The chanting got louder as one of the people walked up to him, holding the knife in a white-knuckled grasp. Danny eyed it wearily, glancing between it and the rafters above. Where the hell were the bats when he needed them???

The cultist kneeled before him and raised the blade, slamming it down into his chest right as the leader stopped chanting; Danny gasped, more out of surprise than pain as he stared at the knife. The dude gave him no warning that he was going to stab him. Usually, cultists slit people's throats, right? What the fuck was up with stabbing him???

His blood slowly bubbled up and around the knife, slowly staining his shirt red. Yeah, there was no way in the realms he was going to be able to save this shirt now. Man, he had liked this one too.

He could hear Nancy's sobs turn to wails as the cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who Danny just now noticed had joined them in the circle. His blood started gushing down his chest with every beat of his heart, again he held back his core. (what does he do now??? faint? scream? how do normal people react to getting stabbed?????)

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!"

Ok, first of all Danny was no where near lowly you piece of fuck-

Danny's core pulsed, sending out nauseating pain up and down his spine. Gasping, Danny leaned as far forward as he could, trying in vain to grasp at his chest without using his powers. His core crackled, striking a blinding flash through his brain. The echoes of his death crawled up his left arm, waking the old dead nerves into firing signals at his brain.

Danny couldn't help himself, he screamed as the pain grew worse and worse. His thoughts turned hazy, his body cold as his core pulsed again. His heart stuttered and then froze, his core flooding his body with freezing ecto not a moment later. Absently, he could feel the wash of ectoplasm crawl over his body, changing his body minutely. He didn't transform, but he definitely looked more ghostly than human.

All the pain disappeared a moment later, allowing Danny to slump forward, his head hanging low and blocking his face from view. His chest did not rise in ragged breaths, nor did his fingers twitch with life. His mind was still sluggish and clouded with something, making it nearly impossible to think. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to focus.

"Your Highness?" someone asked, their voice too loud as it rang in Danny's ears. His core pulsed, another flood of ectoplasm flooding his body. His eyes slid open again, allowing him to see the green glow lighting up his chest and lap as he stared down at them.

Slowly, Danny lifted his head, his bright green gaze locking with the man in front of him.

Next

[ghoulinfuschia]

It’s 2:32 am. I have a close friend of mine coming over tomorrow for a sleepover so I decided to stay up late to clean my room. While rummaging through some old stationary I found a folded paper. Unfolding it revealed a drawing made with garish crayola markers. Happy Christmas (I was under the influence of my nighttime meds while drawing this. I hope you like it), it read.

It took me a moment of inspection to realize this was drawn by someone no longer in my life. A girl with fiery red hair, round cheeks, and professionally sharpened canines. A vampire who resembled the sun.

It was an autumn unrequited romance. We met at a party held by our school to kick off the fall semester. She was new to the city after taking two semesters remotely from her hometown. It was sudden how she quite literally jumped in front of me and asked to be my friend. Unfortunately for me though, the moment I saw her my heart’s target locked. Needless to say, we were screwed from the start.

The next few months was an agonizing dance of “will we won’t we”. There was a hint of interest on her side, but she was too afraid to try for us. Even so, we stayed friends. We went foraging for leaves at our local park. We sang crappy songs while blasting music in an empty underground parking lot at midnight. We bid farewell every Tuesday evening while excitedly planning what we’d do next on the following one. It seemed like, for those few months, she was deeply engrained in my daily life. There was an underlying uneasiness though.

One day she disappeared. She wanted a break, then we suddenly stopped talking. She left as abruptly as she appeared, and her absence was difficult to ignore. No more texts, no more long calls… no more polaroids to add to my diary pages.

Looking back I should’ve known we wouldn’t work out, but even so the brief time we spent together brought me so much joy. I folded her note and pressed it between my palms as if to pray.

I now say goodbye to you. Thank you for the laughs, the late night shenanigans, and the memories. I hope you find yourself where you want to be. Te quiero mucho.

Into the recycling it goes.

[cherienymphe]

The Less I Know The Better II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, eventual loss of virginity, mild unhealthy relationship, one sided kiara x jj, non canon ages, pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary:  When you start dating Rafe Cameron, no one is more surprised than you when your best friend JJ takes it really well. However, no one is more surprised than JJ when he’s forced to see his once frumpy BFF in an entirely new light, suddenly terrified of losing what he never knew he had to the person he hates most.

~

JJ tossed the ball at the side of John B.’s house, catching and repeating while John B. and Pope talked to each other. There was a slight frown on his face as he stared at the wood, seemingly distracted as his arm went through the motions. There was a faint noise he was registering in the back of his mind, but it didn’t click at first that his name was being called.

“Uh…what?” he said, blinking and turning towards his friends.

Pope had an expectant look on his face while John B. had a frown of his own.

“What do you think…?” the brunette asked, and JJ opened and closed his mouth.

“About what?”

They looked at each other, chuckling to themselves, almost nervously.

“Did you hear anything we said? The party? Rafe?”

JJ swiped his tongue along his lip at the mention of the other blond, swallowing down the hatred that threatened to bubble up. If Rafe dropped dead, right now, he’d be the first to celebrate, and JJ had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He reminded himself that Rafe was with you, now, that you…cared about the asshole.

He ignored the way his stomach twisted at that.

“You wanna throw a party…and have Rafe come?” he put two and two together, and Pope shrugged.

“I think Y/N would like it,” he said. “Show her that we’re making an effort.”

JJ didn’t say anything to that, tossing the ball at the ground and catching it when it bounced back up.

“…and what makes you think he’ll come? Come on, Kook king slumming it on the Cut with Pogues?” he scoffed.

“You forget he’s dating one, so I don’t think it’s that far-fetched.”

JJ rolled his eyes at John B.’s words, thinking to himself that no. He unfortunately did not forget that Rafe was dating you. It was all he’d really been able to think about for weeks. Excluding his dad, Rafe was without a doubt the worst guy he knew. They’d drawn blood on each other more than a few times, you being present most of those times, so he didn’t get it.

He didn’t get it when you’d first told him, sure it was some sick joke. He didn’t get it when you admitted to sneaking around with him for weeks, happily. He didn’t get it when you’d been pleading with him to accept this, to put his crappy past with Rafe behind him and be okay with this so you could be happy. He didn’t even get it when you told him how nice Rafe had been to you, courting you and making you swoon like something out of a gag worthy romance book Kie’s mom would read sometimes.

He just didn’t get it.

“What does she see in him?” he finally asked, and Pope and John B. shared a look like they’d been waiting on this.

“You promised you’d be nice,” his best friend reminded him.

“I am,” he argued, throwing his hands up. “I can’t question what she could possibly see in Rafe motherfucking Cameron?”

“He’s tall,” Pope said.

“…and rich,” the other commented.

“…but this is Y/N,” he reminded them. “She’s not shallow. Never has been.”

Pope nodded in agreement.

“She doesn’t care about his looks or his money. She likes him for his personality,” he sneered at the thought.

“She said he treats her well,” John B. said, popping open the soda he’d been holding for minutes. “…and he has been…decent for a while now.”

JJ wasn’t listening to that, taking a few steps as he looked out towards the water.

“…and what does he want with her?”

They both gave him a look when he glanced over, and JJ shook his head.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have a right to be suspicious. She’s a Pogue, and he hates Pogues! The only time he’d be caught dead on our side of the island is when he’s buying some more booger sugar, and all of a sudden, he’s following her around and fixing her house and buying her shit?”

“Y/N’s sweet,” Pope told him with a shrug.

“…and pretty.”

JJ paused, frowning at John B.

“Well, she is,” his best friend doubled down, hands raised.

“Since when do you think she’s pretty?”

“You don’t?” Pope wondered, an almost disbelieving frown on his face.

“You do?”

“No, it’s not like I sit around fantasizing about her, but she’s a pretty girl,” Pope continued. “I think we all were a little awkward looking in high school, but…she’s grown into her features. Well.”

JJ could tell that Pope was trying to be respectful, and he suspected it had something to do with the look he was currently giving him. His mouth opened and closed, a little disturbed by the fact that both of his best friends had clearly thought about you in that way once or twice. Sure, they’d all had a thing for Kie at some point, but you were like a sister to him, and he guess he’d just assumed it was the same way for them too.

Apparently not.

“Well…why is this the first time I’m hearing of it?” he asked, an edge in his voice that he didn’t mean to be there.

They shared another look.

“Everyone knows how you can get about her,” John B. slowly answered. “You get really overprotective and a little intimidating.”

“I mean, why do you think Rafe is her first boyfriend?”

JJ shrugged at Pope, and the other boy heaved a sigh.

“…because he’s like the only guy on this island who isn’t afraid to punch you in the face.”

Pope’s words had him scoffing. JJ looked away, deep in thought as the meaning behind his words seemed to hit him. He spun around to look at them both with wide eyes.

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I…? That Y/N’s never dated because of me?”

Their silence made JJ swallow, and he was just about to argue when Pope spoke again.

“No! Not…really…”

“Not really?”

“Look,” John B. hurried towards him, a hand on his shoulder. “Guys can be assholes. Especially teenage ones, right? We know why you’re so hellbent on looking out for her.”

JJ looked down, jaw clenching at the thought of how mistreated you would be by guys who thought they were comedians. He’d never admit it to you, but he was all too happy to break their noses for making you cry.

“…but things are different now. Guys don’t want to ask her out for shits and giggles anymore. They really want to date her, now, and with you constantly over her shoulder like some shadow in shining armor,” he quietly trailed off.

“You end up with guys like Rafe Cameron asking her out,” Pope finished.

JJ was tempted to argue against everything they were saying, but he kept his mouth shut. They didn’t get what it was like to watch you cry your eyes out after being humiliated by some idiot. Sure, he could punch them in the face until their teeth fell out, but it never did much to make you feel better. It’s not like it stopped you from feeling hurt and embarrassed, or made you stop crying, or made you get over what they’d done.

You needed him.

You always had, and the rare times he tried to just let you handle things yourself like you wanted, it never ended well. JJ shuddered to think of what you would do without him, so if he was overprotective and intimidating to any guy who even halfway looked at you, he had his reasons why. The thought that there were guys who wanted to ask you out didn’t make him feel the best, a paranoia in him that they only wanted to hurt you.

…and Rafe was no different.

Rafe was the worst.

You both had seen him at his worse, pupils blown and strung out on coke as he tried to fight the first guy who looked at him wrong. You both saw the way he talked to Sarah, the looks he’d give him, hell. JJ recalled a time where he’d mockingly told him to ‘tell Y/N she looks pretty hot for a Pogue’. At the time, JJ thought he’d just been his usual asshole self, happily tackling him to the ground for it. However, looking back, he grimaced to think that there’d been some truth in what Rafe had said.

To put it plainly, Rafe wasn’t good enough for you.

They all knew it, and he was torn between wanting this to end badly or hoping that Rafe would do right by you just so you wouldn’t get hurt. He didn’t think he’d ever like Rafe, positive he’d hate the guy to the end of his days. Every time he remembered that you were dating him, now, his stomach churned. However, in that moment, he had to remind himself of the worry in your eyes when you thought JJ wouldn’t accept this. He thought about the tears in your eyes when you talked about how bad you’d felt.

He thought about the way they lit up when he said he’d try to be happy for you.

JJ may have hated Rafe…but he loved you more, and with that, he agreed to John B. and Pope’s stupid party.

It was weird.

JJ knew it would be, but he just didn’t realize how much. A party down on The Cut wasn’t some rare occurrence, but a party with a Kook present? Unheard of. Sarah didn’t count anymore, she hadn’t counted for ages, so no one gave her a second glance. Rafe, on the other hand? He stood out like a sore thumb…and for more reasons than one.

Some girl had been talking to JJ for several minutes now, and he’d been half listening, he’d admit. He was torn between wanting to give her all of his attention and closely watching Rafe…and you. He’d been doing that since the moment you arrived, and he didn’t really care to hide it. Everyone knew how much he looked out for you, and now that you were dating the worst Kook of all…

When Rafe had shown up, JJ hadn’t even recognized you by his side.

He’d never seen that bathing suit top before, and the long skirt was new too. He couldn’t ignore the way it hugged you, and he thought to himself that Rafe was already dressing you up like some trophy girlfriend. He had grimaced, a sour taste in his mouth as he heard Sarah compliment you. In true fashion, Rafe barely acknowledged his sister, and to be honest, no one expected their relationship to change much anyway.

The entire time that you’d been here, you hadn’t left Rafe’s side once, and that made him frown. Why were you so attached to him already? Or was it Rafe who wasn’t letting you go? He tried to tell himself not to think the worst, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Sarah and John B. could be the same way sometimes. They could be so cute it was almost nauseating to watch, but for some reason, it didn’t look as cute on you and Rafe.

It looked fucking disgusting.

“Are you even listening to me?”

The girl before him pulled JJ from his thoughts, and he blinked.

“What?”

She settled for rolling her eyes, turning away from him without a backwards glance. Any other day, and he would’ve tried to rectify that loss, but he didn’t care tonight. He turned back to you only to find Rafe alone…and you nowhere to be found. Funnily enough, Rafe was looking in his direction, and it was seconds later when JJ realized why.

“Hey!”

He looked to his left with a slight flinch, startled by you. Up close, he could see the gold shimmer on your cheeks. He remembered Kie referring to it as highlight once, and as you talked to him, he studied the glossy glow of your lips.

“Um, Pope told me that the party was your idea,” you said, shocking him.

JJ didn’t let it show, only raising his eyebrows.

“He did?”

You nodded, your smile wide.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

JJ’s chest ached, and he felt shitty for so many reasons. Namely because he’d been against the party that wasn’t even his idea, and here you were, looking at him like the best friend in the whole world when that wasn’t the truth.

“I don’t expect you guys to become BFFs or start riding around on your bikes together, but I’m just happy that you’re trying.”

JJ looked into his cup, nodding.

“It means a lot to me.”

JJ exhaled, looking up to meet your gaze again.

“You’re welcome,” he eventually whispered, opening his arms as you moved to hug him.

He hugged you back, holding you close. It was moments like this that made it easy for him to remember why he was trying in the first place. You were probably the most important thing in his life, and he loved how much you glowed, right now, but he hated that it was because of Rafe. JJ buried his face into your hair, breathing you in, and he froze at the smell of an unfamiliar cologne. It smelled expensive, like something Rafe would drown himself in, and with that though, JJ looked up.

On the other side of the beach, his own blue eyes met eerily similar ones. Rafe was nursing a drink, red cup pressed to his lips as he watched you and JJ hug. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy or animosity there, Rafe feeling completely secure, and it was only when you pulled away did JJ realize why. You had turned to Rafe almost immediately, and as you slipped from JJ’s hold, he reluctantly acknowledged that you only had eyes for the blond Kook.

The Kook in question knew this, pulling you against him with a smile once you reached him, and JJ turned away, downing the rest of his drink.

“I have to admit…they are cute together,” Pope slowly noted about an hour later.

“Whose side are you on?” Kie joked before shaking her head. “No, but he’s right. I was really skeptical, at first, but Rafe is…shockingly sweet with her.”

She shuddered, and Sarah laughed.

“Isn’t he? I kind of like it,” she grinned. “I’m going to have so much fun teasing him.”

As they sat together and talked about how much they loved the relationship that must not be named, JJ only wanted to stick his head in that ocean. All night, you and Rafe had been attached at the hip. Drinking together, laughing together…dancing together. His skin stretched over his knuckles as he thought about the way you had clung to the blond, his hands on your lower back as he held you to him, his lips at your ear as he said something JJ wasn’t privy to but made you laugh all the same.

Would a day come where JJ would finally see Rafe as your boyfriend and not the guy he’d genuinely thought about killing?

Maybe not.

As they gabbed about you two, JJ looked around, noting your absence. He frowned at that, noticing how much the party was still going on and worrying that you’d left early. JJ knew you wouldn’t leave early, especially not a party he’d thrown for you and especially without saying goodbye. With the rest of the Pogues distracted, JJ pulled himself to his feet.

If they noticed him leaving, they didn’t say anything, probably thinking nothing of it. JJ weaved his way through the bodies, eyes searching for you, but you were nowhere to be found. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the way his heart was beating so fast in his chest, but he was growing lightheaded, pausing to calm down and reassure himself that you were fine. You were with Rafe, after all…

But that wasn’t a comforting thought.

The further he walked, the quieter the party became, and he realized that he was walking away. He was nearing where people had parked their cars and bikes and skateboards. He had long tossed his drink somewhere, sure Kie would scold him for that if she’d seen, but he didn’t care. He had this intense desire to find you, and he didn’t know why. Just when he was about to angrily accept that Rafe had convinced you to ditch them, he heard your laugh.

JJ turned, eyes landing on you, and he felt his chest ease…only to tighten again.

It seemed that you had ripped your skirt somehow, Rafe kneeling before you as he tried to find a way to fix it. You were leaning against his truck, smiling down at him as he attempted to tie a knot in the skirt where the rip was. It was much quieter out here, so your voices carried.

“I feel like this was your plan,” you teased. “Accidentally…”

You did air quotes.

“…rip my skirt and convince me to take it off.”

Rafe exhaled, looking up at you as he pressed his teeth into his lip.

“If I wanted to get you out of your skirt, I wouldn’t need some half-assed plan to do it,” he purred.

You giggled when the blond leaned in and pressed a kiss to your thigh, securing the knot before standing. JJ watched as he said something to you, too quiet for him to hear, but whatever it was made you lean in and kiss him, pressing yourself against Rafe in the same way countless girls had done to him. The kiss was heated, and the ocean breeze carried the sound of your soft moan to his ears, distaste settling in the back of JJ’s throat at the sound of it.

JJ felt like he was intruding on something, something he had no business seeing, and with reluctance, he turned away and rejoined the party.

JJ handed you the Tylenol, watching you eagerly pop them in your mouth before drowning them with water. He had suspected you’d be hungover, but he hadn’t expected you to still be in the bed at 1 pm. He was happy that you’d at least had the sense of mind to shower and undress, and that’s what he told you.

“Mm, mm,” you hummed with a shake of your head, rubbing your eyes. “Thank Rafe. I could barely stand when I got home.”

JJ pressed his lips together at that.

“Right. I’m glad you enjoyed the party,” he said, quickly changing the subject as he leaned against your wall.

“I’m glad you threw it,” you told him. “I know I said it, last night, but I really am so thankful. Rafe and I had a great time.”

JJ didn’t respond to that, feeling his blood pressure literally rise with every mention of the Kook. He had gone to bed last night with both of you on the brain, recalling how casual Rafe had been with you, how comfortable you were around each other. He remembered how easily you’d kissed him, throwing yourself at him like it was the most natural thing in the world for you, and he had a hard time reconciling Rafe’s girlfriend with his best friend. He almost felt like you were two different people.

Even now, as he watched you pull yourself out of bed to get ready to leave with him, he only saw his best friend. He saw the girl who hated all bathing suits at one point, even one pieces. He saw the girl who had tripped over a tree root and ended up with a bloody nose, fighting not to cry while JJ had been the one to clean you up. He saw the girl who fell off of his bike, scraping her knee.

He had the hardest time accepting that you were Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. Even though he’d seen it, he couldn’t imagine you kissing him like so many other girls had kissed JJ. He couldn’t imagine Rafe’s hands on you, playful and searching in the same way he felt up girls he made out with. That heated desperation JJ would feel when he was with a girl, the desire to touch her and hear her? Her eagerness to get closer to him in every way possible?

Thinking of you and the guy he hated most like that made him look away, hurrying out of your room to wait for you in the living room.

When you eventually came out, you were none the wiser to his thoughts, grinning at him as you practically hopped towards him. It was a little cooler than normal today, and JJ’s gaze lingered on your exposed skin, brows knitting together as he just told himself he was worried.

“Here,” he started, taking off his jacket. “It’s-.”

“I got one,” you interrupted, snatching up a jacket from the couch that he hadn’t noticed.

As he followed you outside, he studied the jacket as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. It was unfamiliar and grey…and definitely not yours. JJ didn’t need to be a genius to note that it was Rafe’s and wondered how long it had been there.

Or had he left it last night?

As you wrapped your arms around JJ’s waist, making yourself comfortable on the back of his bike, he wondered if Rafe had stayed the night and left early in the morning.  It wasn’t any of his business though, so he forced himself to forget about it. You were quick to hop off his bike and run to Kie when you arrived at The Chateau.

Pope was chilling by the hot tub, and he guessed that John B. and Sarah were inside. JJ watched you, taking note of the wide grin and sparkly eyes and giggling demeanor. He just knew that you were talking about Rafe, and he forced himself to look away.

“Did you know that there are 26 grams of sugar in this?”

Pope was intensely studying some drink he’d bought, and when JJ didn’t reply, he felt Pope’s gaze on him. He blinked, his own gaze refocusing just as Pope spoke again.

“What’s wrong with you?”

JJ shoved his hands into his pocket, shaking his head, blond strands shaking with it.

“Nothing…”

Pope looked like he didn’t believe him, and JJ was sure he was about to say something when Sarah and John B. came striding out, joining the rest, and JJ took the opportunity to step back. He could feel himself retreating in on himself, uncharacteristically quiet as his friends talked around him, and as much as he fought it, his gaze found it’s way back to you.

You were sitting next to Kie, both of you talking and smiling, but he wasn’t focused on that.

JJ was looking at the grey jacket on your shoulders, watching the way you interacted with it. You pulled the sleeves of it over your hands, fisting the fabric and pulling it tight around you. Your lashes fluttered, and you paused for a bit before bringing the sleeves up to your face, briefly closing your eyes.

JJ looked away, again, feeling like he was intruding on something.

“It was nice and all, but I don’t think we need to make a habit out of forcing me and my brother to mingle in the same circles,” he heard Sarah say. “I barely like living with him.”

JJ watched you throw a small twig at her, a small smile on your lips.

“I second that,” Pope murmured.

“He had fun though,” you quietly said. “Got so drunk that he had to crash at my place.”

JJ’s gaze snapped back to you at that.

“I’m trying to save his liver, you guys, and convincing him to skip out on some random party is a feat in itself. He won’t let me skip one my own friends threw.”

“Once you’ve conquered the alcohol part, can you get him to drop the coke next?” Sarah’s voice was teasing, but everyone knew she was serious.

“I might have to start hiding it,” you loudly whispered.

JJ was the only one who didn’t laugh.

He didn’t really find it funny that your boyfriend drank so much you were worried about his health. Even halfheartedly. There was definitely nothing funny about him being a cokehead, God only knows what problems that would contribute to. JJ wasn’t amused when he thought about you and Rafe kissing, the blond spending the night at your house, you wearing and smelling his jacket. He thought about when he hugged you last night, thought about how your natural earthy and floral scent had been tainted by Rafe’s cologne.

His jaw clenched at the thought.

You were dating Rafe, now, and JJ didn’t think it was anything to smile about.

[lazuliquetzal]

i want to hear the sports anime manifesto

Okay short version:

My life was a sports anime for a bit, and watching sports anime makes me nostalgic for those days.

Medium version:

The typical shonen sports anime deals with themes of camaraderie, ambition, and the intersections of camaraderie and ambition, which ALWAYS hits me right in the chest.

I'm not an ambitious person by nature, but--you know that one poem floating around on here, the one about the moth that wants nothing more than to fly into the flame, and how it would be nice to feel that kind of all consuming passion? Yeah, that's the feeling I get from sports anime.

And often, for the Team Sports anime, you'll get characters who have nothing in common except that they Love the Same Thing--a friendship/rivalry/(romance) formed on the basis of a shared interest. That's sweet as hell!

And they're super predictable and low stress for me. Very easy to watch! Total popcorn shows. Also I like listening to people infodump about their passions. Someone loved their Sport so much they wrote a whole-ass story about it, so yeah, eat that shit up.

Long version:

The Socioeconomic Inequalities of High School Sports

In high school, I was on a crappy underfunded soccer team (with a healthy dose of sexism) and due to [sports league division reasons] the schools we played against were almost exclusively private schools.

I cannot describe how existential it is to be wearing a hand-me-down formerly white-turned-disgusting-gray uniform that's at least five years old when playing against a team that gets brand new windbreakers every season.

(If you've read AAB, YES this is where my obsession with the windbreakers comes from.)

(Hilariously, the guys team got windbreakers but we didn't.)

(I am not over the fucking windbreakers.)

But anyway, when you're constantly losing to private schools you get this fucking complex about it.

This should come as no surprise but like. People with the time and resources to practice their Thing get good at their Thing.

Playing pick up soccer at the park is practice. Playing rec league soccer is organized, repeated practice.

Playing competitive club soccer is all of that, plus a coach who knows How To Coach and What The Sport Is, plus you get morale-boosting uniforms and the chance to play with and against other skilled players. So you're exposed to a lot more, and thus, you learn a lot more.

Competitive club soccer is also Expensive. Rich kids get good.

There's a reason why the "Powerhouse School" is a thing in sports anime, because it's a thing in real life. People with leisure time and money get to invest in their sports development, and everyone else gets left behind in the dust. It's basically a microcosm of capitalism.

The underdog sports story is (quite tragically) bootstraps propaganda. All you have to do is be really good and work really hard and have A LOT OF PASSION to get good at your sport! The cream rises to the top! This is a meritocracy! Let's ignore all the other factors that go into an individual's development as an athlete!

(My brother got scouted for club soccer as a kid. He actually went to tryouts and got offered a spot and a scholarship and everything, but there's SO many hidden fees after the initial registration. Uniforms, equipment, travel and accommodation, tournaments, plus like, the time sink, so we never signed him up. And equipment-wise, soccer is one of the cheapest sports you can play--just imagine the price for something like baseball or hockey.)

In sports anime, there is no reform. There is no revolution.

But sports anime isn't really about that. It's about the narratives we create when we convince ourselves that we deserve to win.

(You know what I mean. Every billionaire is convinced they're some sort of heroic underdog. The same exact kind of 'working your way up' narrative.)

Sports anime is like, the uncomplicated power fantasy of playing the game. It's a world where you are rewarded for your hard work, because it's narratively satisfying. It's a world where it's safe to want things, because you have the exact same chances as the private school kids.

I used to be an obnoxiously competitive child. Then I got all my competition beaten out of me by 3 straight years of constant losing in my clownagerie of a high school soccer team (affectionate). I am going to admit that experience made me a better person and I would not trade it for anything, but I also had to like, relearn how to want things. And maybe real life is not as equal opportunity as the world of sports anime, but I think it's good to want things.

Of course, the winner-loser dichotomy makes sense in sports because of the inherent nature of competition, but it doesn't make sense in stuff like society and economics because that's like, competing over the right to live. That's where the capitalism metaphor ends,

Does sports anime actually go into the socioeconomic inequalities of sports? No. Of course not. Giant Killing never got a season 2.

But it is something I think about when I write sports anime fic. Even if it's not the point, it influences my characterization. The ego of a prodigy character in a shitty sports program is different from the ego of a prodigy character in a rich kid sports program. I am obligated to my amateur attempts to capture the complexities of the high school sports environment in my fanfiction because I am fucking insane I had a specific high school sports experience and they do say to write what you know.

[crossdressingdeath]

I wish the game allowed you to challenge Alistair more. Like he gets to throw tantrums and ignore responsibilities willy-nilly but the Warden is an asset of they d9 the same? What? Also in DAI he is bitter about the Warden for seemingly no reason. I mean, sure, the whole situation with Morrigan that happens if the Warden is female sucks but everything about the Blight sucked. And the whole mess with Morrigan is literally the only time Alistair is asked to step up. Again, the whole situation is a crappy one. But he is equally bitter if the Warden is male and did the deed with Morrigan himself.

Basically Alistair gets to throw tantrums and shirk responsibility but is then still bitter 10+ years later for the one time he was asked to do something? Or not in the case of a male Warden. (Side note : I hate that whole situation with Morrigan in DAO)

I can't really speak to Alistair's attitude towards the Warden in DAI, since the only world state I've played in DAI features him as king and the subject doesn't really come up there. I do know that if he's a Warden and the Warden did the ritual but didn't romance Morrigan/follow her through the Eluvian he gets on her case a bit about not letting the Warden meet his kid, which is... kind of sweet, even though a) it's not actually his business and b) that was the deal from the start and the Warden agreed to have said kid with the understanding that he would likely never meet them. Like, that was the deal. Was it a good deal? No, it was an incredibly shitty situation all around and no one is happy with it. But that was the deal.

Similarly I can't comment on Alistair's response to having to do the ritual himself, because the only Warden I've successfully reached that point with is a guy who does it himself. I know Alistair is grossed out by it, which is fair enough given how much he and Morrigan dislike each other, but that's all I know. Loghain making a point of saying that he intends to close his eyes and picture his dead wife, specifically bringing up that she's dead, is just more fun to me (especially with Morrigan then either deliberately or accidentally misunderstanding him and thinking he means to envision said wife's desiccated corpse, the group dynamic with Loghain is everything to me) so I've paid more attention to it.

But yeah, Alistair clearly does not like being told to step up for the sake of the group or the world. Which in and of itself would not be a bad thing character-wise, to be clear! That thing about how he prefers to follow and never wanted or expected to be forced into a position of leadership among the Wardens (and especially not so early into his time with them; he's only more experienced by the Warden because they started like a day ago, not because he's actually experienced) is deeply understandable and sympathetic! It's not bad that Alistair doesn't want to be in charge; god knows I'd be a massive hypocrite if I said it was, some people just are not comfortable with having to be in charge and will default to looking for someone else to listen to whenever possible (and I am one of them). Not wanting to lead is not in and of itself a flaw. If everyone in the world always wanted to be in charge nothing would ever get done.

But see, hypocrisy really is the issue here, because Alistair refuses to consider that maybe the people around him feel the same as he does. If you think about it, if we set aside the Warden themself (since as a player character their views on leadership vary) no one in the Warden's group other than Sten actually wants to be in charge. They all have their own opinions, but only Sten will actually try to claim leadership of the group from the Warden (Leliana, Shale and Wynne will all fight the Warden to the death at certain points, but they're just trying to stop you from doing something specific, not trying to take over the whole group). They can hate you for what you do, but they do not want to take over the group even if doing so would ultimately be better for everyone. These people clearly are not for the most part natural-born leaders comfortable with and/or actively wanting full control; if they were we'd have significantly more scraps over leadership of the group than we do. If everyone in the group said "Well, I don't want to be in charge, so I'm just gonna not" nothing would ever have gotten done and Ferelden would've been fucked! And Alistair clearly understands that, given how pissed he gets at the Warden if they go "Hm, what if I just don't?" about having leadership dumped on them. Someone has to step up, take charge, and do the job that no one wants to do. Alistair grasps that. He just doesn't grasp that his name should be and is in the hat for that particular burden. Someone has to step up no matter how little they want to, Alistair knows this, but he thinks it should be someone else. He calls the Warden out for refusing to take on leadership if they suggest leaving to find other, more experienced Wardens... but it never seems to occur to him that if it's shitty of them to look for someone else to dump the burden onto it was shitty of him to do that to them in the first place. Alistair is basically one of those people who stands around in awful situations going "Someone should do something!" while not actually stepping in even though they could.

Basically the main issue with Alistair isn't that he would much rather have someone else giving the orders, that's entirely fine and sets him up to be a really solid second-in-command. Unless your story is intended to include power struggles you want most of the supporting cast involved in the main group to have no real desire to lead, because that's the easiest way to keep that particular point of contention calm! The issue is that he doesn't want to be in charge and actively rejects that role... but then expects the people around him to take the role he rejected without a fuss even if they also don't want to be in charge. As far as Alistair is concerned he gets to refuse leadership on the grounds that he personally doesn't want it, but no one else gets to do the same. And the way the player is never allowed to call him on that is a huge problem, because that would logically be the number one sticking point between him and a Warden who didn't want to be in charge.

[writer-citation-needed]

Emily Henry's newest release Funny Story begins with Daphne moving in with the least likely roommate, Miles, aka the ex-boyfriend of the now-fiancée of her recently-ex-fiancé. Who else could understand her pain and shock but the ex of the very person her fiancé left her for the day after his bachelor party? Now, she has to spend her summer rebuilding her life and planning for her now-uncertain future, all while planning a readathon for the library she works at. What is a girl to do?

This is my third read from Emily Henry and boy am I glad I went for it because it was such a redemption after Beach Read! Like her others, this is both a romance and women's lit, and it blends it so well in my opinion. See below the caption for my full review, featuring spoilers!

The Positives

The premise is so fun, and I think it's a great introduction to both Daphne and Miles since they're both different but work so well together. Forced proximity is a great way for them to bond, and it's hilariously sad to see them both getting over their exes.

Additionally, Miles is the perfect love interest for this book! Not only is he so cute (and reminds me of the love interest in Fangirl who I also adore) but his carefree nature makes him so yes-and-y which works so well for Daphne's impulsive side (see: their first kiss being to support Daphne's lie because if he's going to be a fake boyfriend, he better be a GOOD one). I also really enjoyed his deeper nature and his relationship with Julia but I wish he had more opportunity to heal than a summary of a conversation with his sister.

In tandem with both of the other points, I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the plot moved past the break up, since it certainly could have been brought up at every moment (like a certain That Woman). Right from when Miles said "We're more than just what happened in April. Let's focus on the other stuff" I knew that I would actually enjoy the next couple hundred pages.

As I've mentioned before, I love Emily's side characters. Funny Story offers many of them from the library crew (including Ashleigh who I really liked (she keeps it real)) to Miles's many farmer friends, and I was really happy to see their community at their housewarming party at the end

Speaking of the end, I really liked how Daphne and Miles came together in a sort of compromise, neither exactly picture-perfect and controlled nor free and messy, I think it was a great conclusion to their theme of life being imperfect and finding love in that imperfection!

I thought the callback to January's books was super cute and alllmost made me forget why I didn't like BR

The Negatives

The drama with Daphne's Dad kind of bogged things down for me. It was good character development for Daphne, sure, but I think his appearance was timed strangely and felt super unnecessary in the whole mess near the end with Miles. The Petra misunderstanding at the same time made it seem really unnecessary and honestly it's a forgettable beat especially since Daphne gives her whole speech about how crappy she thinks her dad was just after learning the effort Miles went through in order to better their relationship

Speaking of, there was SUCH a missed opportunity for there-was-only-one-bed when her dad and Starfire showed up. Why Emily didn't take this chance when she has used this trope before successfully I will never know.

Overall Thoughts

Funny Story is just that- a funny story that turns a terrible situation into a fun and heartwarming tale. I loved how the story spent just enough time in the spiteful fake dating before really opening up into a conversation on disappointment and expectations- all with a delightful town of interesting characters and a library event that I wish I had as a child. There is so much to love about this book that I'm happy to ignore how the emotional climax (aka Everything Seems To Be Going Wrong In Daphne's Life... Again) had a bit too many moving parts. I really related to a lot of Daphne's internal struggles and adored Miles right from his introduction and his complete dedication to The Bit. Absolutely my favorite Emily Henry novel thus far!

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

A Love Story

Summer 2009

It’s almost 2:00 AM, and I’m sitting in a crappy bar in Boystown listening to a boy wax poetic about Car Talk, and it hits me: I’m completely smitten.

Being smitten is not part of the plan. The plan is that I’m moving out West at the end of the summer. I will probably have 6 roommates and no money, and I’ll spend that money on concerts, coffee, and cheap wine. Maybe I’ll date an older guy…maybe I’ll apply to grad school…maybe I’ll only talk about applying to grad school.

Except...I don’t want to think about the future right now. I want to drink cheap beer in a crappy bar and listen to this beautiful boy wax poetic about Car Talk…forever.

Fall 2009

Forget the West, whatever that is. I am in Chicago, and I am in love. This city has everything I need: restaurants, parks, music, museums. But forget all of that, too. This city also has a boy—an intelligent, earnest, serious boy—and I am in love with him.

We have moved into a tiny, old studio apartment, and I love it. My parents hate it, but I love it. We are too broke for restaurants, music, and museums, but who cares? We cruise a circuit of dive bars, gyro joints, and Mexican restaurants, all of which are neon with romance that only we can see. I wouldn't trade this for anything. As we walk and talk in parks, cemeteries, bridges, and alleys, I realize I have never loved this city as much as I do now. But, for all our love and walking and talking, there is still a future waiting. A boy and a girl who are broke and in love won’t last long by ignoring it.

Spring 2010 - Winter 2014

We move. We get jobs we hate. We drink coffee and cheap wine. We find jobs we don’t hate. We make bad financial choices. We paint our apartment. He builds bikes. I read. We get a dog. He fixes things. I read and talk about grad school. We start a garden. He starts roasting coffee. I keep reading. I try to get him to read. He smiles and declines. I don’t mind. I like his smile.

We argue…about everything. He is frustratingly rational. I concede, and I hate it. I’m also right about half the time. He won’t concede, and I hate that too. He builds me a bike. I hate biking, but he convinces me to keep at it. I reluctantly start enjoying it...he builds me a better bike.

I love biking! I keep reading. He declines and cleans instead. I don’t mind that either. We both learn how to cook. He’s scientific. I’m messy. Our food is delicious because we made it and we are in love. We support each other. We make better financial choices. We find better jobs. He starts a business. I keep reading and talk occasionally about grad school.

Spring 2014

I’m sitting on our kitchen counter, drinking a not-as-cheap glass of wine. He is cooking and explaining to me, in too much detail, what is wrong with our car's transmission and how he will fix it. I only listen to him say that he can fix it. That is enough detail for me. He is enough detail for me.

I’m sitting on my kitchen counter while this beautiful man makes me dinner and tells me he’ll fix our car, and now I'm the one waxing poetic in my head, because I have a plan. The plan is that I’m going to marry this intelligent, earnest, serious man in June, in front of our family and friends. Maybe we’ll move again. Maybe I’ll stop talking about applying to grad school and actually do it. We'll keep making better financial choices, and we'll spend our money on travel, coffee, and not-as-cheap wine. We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll be successful, too.

And I will sit and listen to him talk about cars and bicycles and coffee and whatever and everything—forever. Because he is my plan now.

[whymustyouhurtmeinthisway]

I decided to give the series titles because I felt it wasn’t fair to give a terrible title to Jam’s game, but not for anyone else.

Chipp’s stealth action game: I’m thinking it’d come out around the late 2000s early 2010s, so probably something kinda generic, like Way of the Ninja or A Ninja’s Path. I can see it coming out and becoming a beloved series that gets worse and worse sequels until it’s milked to the point of exhaustion by the developers.

Axl Isekai: Naturally it’d have to be one of those ridiculously long crappy Isekai titles, so probably some shit like I Can’t Believe I Got Sent To The Future And Have To Find My Girlfriend, or My Life As A 90s Punk In A Futuristic Fantasy World (My Girlfriend’s A Sexy Evil Witch).

A.B.A. grimdark hack and slash: Honestly not sure. I can imagine just having A.B.A. be the title. Maybe with a gritty, somewhat overkill subtitle, like A.B.A: Annihilation Key, or A.B.A: Birth by Carnage, or A.B.A: Bloodlust Homunculus

Anji manga: Probably a poetic one-word title, like just Butterfly or Adrift or something. In the case that there’s two words, it’d just be two words put together that mean very little on their own, such as Moonlit Drifter, or Butterfly Resonance, or Wanderer’s Sonata

Bridget Indie RPG: I was thinking a fun (and realistic) thing to do would be to name the game after a yo-yo trick, because that’s definitely what an indie dev would do. Something like Around The World, or Breakaway, or Over and Under, that reflects her journey of self-discovery.

Zato soulslike: The genre has a pretty wide range of titles without a very obvious theme, so I’d say the best bet would be something like Blindness, or Shadowbound, or honestly just Vanish Into Dark would be great. Yeah ignore the other ones, Vanish into Dark’s my choice.

I-No Bayonetta: Based on the wealth of information I gave in my description, you can tell how much I have to go off of. Really just having the title be I-No would work, however I’d like to take this opportunity to acknowledge reblogger Sylvinusgrove, who suggested the game be Bayonetta but with Guitar Hero controls, which I am accepting as canon.

Jam restaurant tycoon / side scroller beat-em-up: As of right now I have not found a better name than Kung-Food Service, and I’m not sure what that says about me. My only other ideas are Takeout Takedown and Egg Fried Vice. Please somebody suggest a better one because I do not want this.

May dating sim: Something relating to her being a sky pirate, like Come Sail Away, Between Sea and Sky, The Wind’s Embrace, even just Disaster of Passion. Any generic romance related title would do, which makes the end twist even better.

I love how every single Guilty Gear character could easily fit as the main character of their own series, each one incredibly thematically different than the original series. Like

Stealth action game about a young ninja avenging his master’s death against the villainous league of assassins

Slice of Life comedy Isekai where a regular dude gets sucked into a sci-fi fantasy dimension 185 years in the future and has to make friends with the ridiculously overpowered warriors there in order to find his girlfriend

Grimdark victorian horror hack-and-slash (similar to American McGee’s Alice series) about a melancholy and delusional homunculus fighting to find a body for her beloved bloodthirsty giant key husband (No morality to be found in any character, entirely 2000s edge)

Serial manga about a powerful and mysterious fan-wielding bishonen warrior, wandering the world in search of his equally powerful love interest / rival who’s been completely consumed by revenge and must be saved from herself

Quirky Earthbound-inspired indie RPG about a young adventurer discovering her true self with the help of her friends (including a talking teddy bear, a crew of all-female sky pirates, a mysterious forest goddess and her guardian, and many more)

Soulslike with a blindness gimmick about a power-hungry wizard who lost his sight in a deal with a demon, and must rely on the demon to fight his way through a world that wants him dead

Bayonetta. Yeah that’s it.

Restaurant simulator in which you, the struggling owner, aren’t making enough money to stay afloat with the restaurant alone, and need to use your Kung-fu skills to find income through other, more violent means. Essentially there’s two main gamemodes. By day: Cooking Mama. By night: Streets of Rage. You have to spend your money wisely between upgrades to your restaurant or to your fighting ability, as failing at either will leave you with either your restaurant closing down or you getting beaten beaten to death, respectively. If you can get through an entire year with your restaurant firmly open and your teeth firmly un-kicked, you win the game! (no matter which shady methods you had to use to get there). Hire employees! Fire employees! Beat up said former employees in an alleyway as they’ve since turned to a life of crime, then turn them in for bounty money! You can do all this and more in the new game coming to Nintendo Switch: Kung-Food Service! (Temporary title until an actually good one is found)

Standard dating sim, except it’s impossible to win and the true ending is the main character finding out she’s a lesbian

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death. Pt 2

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"Robin!" Orcale cried through the coms, startling Damian as he ducked beneath a punch thrown his way. Growling, Damian Sparta kicked the goon before him, spun around, and throat-punched the last one standing.

"What?" he huffed, glancing around his area to see if he had missed something; Father was facing off against Penguin, Tim was taunting Mr. Freeze, and Jason was plowing his way through the rest of the goons down on the ground floor.

Gunshots flashed by and up toward the roof, drawing his attention.

Turning around, Damian watched as Dick jumped from the rafters and dropped two other goons with brutal precision, their guns clattering to the ground. That's four. He could still hear Steph and Cass fighting in the other room over the comms, which makes it six. (Seven if he counted Duke, who was at home resting after a long patrol) They were still up and fighting, which meant nothing was out of place.

"Your boyfriend wouldn't happen to be named Daniel Fenton, right?" Barbara's voice was strained. She practically begged him to correct her and prove she was mistaken.

Damian tensed up but rushed over to help down the goons surrounding Dick, his heart thundering away in his chest. "What happened?" he growled, drawing his katana when a goon quickly pulled a knife. The sound of metal against metal almost blocked her voice, but Damian could still make out what she said.

"He's been taken by some cultists, they're broadcasting everything. They're setting up the ritual right now; they cut his arm and are using his blood mixed with black paint to mark the ground. I'm pretty sure he's in shock, he barely reacted to the cut."

"Oh, shit!" Steph cursed, "not the boyfriend!"

"Where?" he grunted, parrying the knife away and kicking the guy over the railing. The man's scream cut out as his body hit the floor. "Robin!" Father hissed in anger, quickly tying up Penguin.

"He'll live!" Damian shouted back as he marched toward the door and reached for his grapple gun, "Oracle! Where is he?"

The others could finish up here without him, they had already dealt with what the two rouges had been planning. All that was left was to gather up the goons and hand everyone over to the GCPD. His boyfriend, who hadn't texted him to tell him he had gotten home safe because apparently he'd been kidnapped by cultists, was more important than beating the crap out of some lowly goons.

"The Financial District, warehouse seven on 4th street." she huffed, the sound of keys clicking as she sent him the live footage. Clicking the side of his mask, he was met with the sight of his boyfriend bound to a chair and glaring up at the camera. His blue eyes were filled with more annoyance than fear, but that didn't reassure Damian at all when the camera backed up and revealed Danny's heavily bleeding arm.

They must have cut an artery with how deep the wound looked. The only reason he wasn't already dead from blood loss was because of how tight the ropes were, it seemed.

"Shit," Damian hissed as he shot his grapple up at the building across the street, "make sure an ambulance is en route, Danny's going to need it. They must have cut through his radial artery if not both."

He could hear Dick hold back a gasp at his words but ignored it, as he flew toward the roof and started running. A loud thud landed behind him, followed by footsteps as Father's gruff voice echoed into his ear as they ran. "Jets on its way, it'll be faster than the car." Damian silently changed direction, continuing to jump roofs.

"I'm coming with," Dick demanded, landing a couple buildings behind them. Damian grunted in acknowledgment, not caring what they did. He needed to be there, he needed to be there thirty minutes ago; when he should have been walking Danny home like he asked him too.

"GOTHAM!" the person holding the camera shouted with a slip of paper in their other hand, allowing the camera a glimpse of the words. Danny's eyes narrowed even more, something like disbelief filling his eyes as the man continued talking, "Tonight, you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

"Danny looks so disappointed," Dick snorted, pulling out his own grapple at the sound of the jet approaching. Of course, Danny was disappointed, it was a waste of paper just to remember so little. Damian agreed but couldn't do anything other than huff at his brother's comment, most of his focus on watching the video.

Dick wrapped an arm around him, firing at the jet just as it rocketed overhead. They were launched into the air and dragged over buildings as the jet flew toward their destination. Father dangled across from them for a second before the three of them latched onto the rail under the jet designed for quick departure. They sat in silence as all three of them focused back on the video feed.

"Now," the leader shouted, coming into view as the cameraman backed up. Danny and the freshly painted circle were in full view, but so was the group of people off to the side. Damian recognized two of the people on the ground. Nancy and Wyatt, Danny's forcibly appointed college guides or "parents".

Damian remembers the day Danny had been introduced to them, spouting vitriol in anger about them being acephobic and how the college wouldn't allow him to switch guides. Nancy was crying, her mascara running down her face. Wyatt was deathly pale, all the blood bleeding away from his face as he watched the cultists in what looked like horrified guilt.

"Let us begin," the leader cheered, grabbing Danny's shoulders from behind him. Danny glanced worriedly at the group and then at the camera like he couldn't decide what he should focus on, subconsciously cringing away from the man behind him.

"Join me as we summon our lord and savior!" Danny narrowed his eyes in anticipation, "The great tyrant of the dead!" he now looked confused, "The embodiment of war and bloodshed!" back to worried, "The one named PARIAH DARK!" amused, because of course, his boyfriend would find the name amusing, "THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!" now he was back to confused and worried.

The leader turned and walked back over to one of his followers, snatching an old book and opening it. Without any fanfare, the man began chanting, guiding his followers like he was the director of a twisted play.

"ten minutes," Father grunted, "Oracle, get everything you can on the ghost king. We need to know what we're about to run into. Call someone from Dark, we'll probably need their guide on how to deal with this."

Dick readjusted his grip, tightening his arm in reassurance as Danny's eyes glanced up and toward the rafters like he was looking for one of them. No, not like. He was looking for them; because Damian had promised him in the past that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. And if not them then he would. Danny had rolled his eyes at the time, sarcastically calling him his hero. But he believed him because Damian had promised.

Damian growled as one of the cultists smashed a bowl on the ground, splattering Danny in what he had to assume was the blood and paint mixture Barbera had told him about earlier.

Damian watched as Danny glared at the black stains all over his front with disdain, trying to mutter something through the gag in his mouth the camera couldn't catch. "Is he seriously worried about his shirt?" Tim huffed over comms, the sound of police sirens growing louder.

"I would too if that's the only nice shirt I had," Steph grumbled before shouting something at someone.

"My boyfriend owns more than one shirt, Spoiler." Damian hissed.

"No offense, Damian," Steph laughed, "but your boyfriend looks like he crawled out of a dumpster after losing a fight against one of your raccoons."

"Oh, give him a break! The poor boy's just been kidnapped, of course, he looks bad." Barbera chided.

Damian went to respond but stopped to watch as another cultist stepped forward and tossed salt at Danny. Danny shook his head and glared at the cultist, only to be slapped in the face with another handful of salt for his efforts.

"That's one way to rub salt in the wound," Jason huffed, "make sure you kick that one in the dick for me."

"With pleasure," Damian grumbled, leaning back to try and see the warehouse they were heading toward. "Seven minutes," Father added, noticing how impatient Damian was starting to get.

they silently watched as the cultists continued chanting, Barbera occasionally telling them things she'd found. (She was having difficulty connecting with The Dark members, something about an unexpected mission off-world.)

Danny was starting to look tired, his face paler than usual (A hard feat, considering his boyfriend looked like a fresh corpse on a good day. If he didn't know any better, he would think his boyfriend had never spent a second in the sun his entire life.)

Suddenly, Danny started to cough, shaking his head, clenching his eyes closed in pain for a second before focusing back on the leader. "The blood loss is starting to catch up to him," Tim commented as Danny glanced up at the rafters again, "let the hospital know to have extra blood ready."

"Got it," Barbera agreed, still typing away. "No one's answering, I'm going to try Constantine, now."

"Two minutes," Father warned, getting ready to jump. Damian steadied himself, leaning forward to time his jump correctly. "Shit," Jason cursed, drawing Damian's attention back to the video in time to watch as a cultist raised a bloody blade into the air and slammed it into Danny's chest. "You need to get there, now!"

The cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who was now standing in front of Danny. Danny's chest quickly stained red, his eyes wide in shock and horror.

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!" the leader's voice echoed in the silent warehouse like a gunshot. but Damian couldn't hear a single word the man spoke as he watched Danny lean forward in pain, trying to grab at his chest.

His restrained hands pulled against the rope, causing more blood to leak from his wound, his eyes clenching shut as his left hand started glowing green. He suddenly started screaming, his voice strained like it was being ripped out of his throat, barely muffled by the gag.

A bright light flashed, spreading from where he'd been stabbed and crawling over his body. His skin turned gray, almost blue, like a body found out in a snowstorm. His hair started floating in an absent current like he was underwater. and his eyes started glowing a bright blue, growing brighter and brighter.

"NOW!" Father shouted, launching off the railing and gliding through the air. Damian didn't hesitate to follow, all his training allowing him to go on autopilot as he used his cape to guide his fall.

Danny slumped forward, his head hanging limp as the warehouse went deathly silent.

Twisting in the air, Damian aimed his grapple hook and fired. It latched onto the warehouse and tugged him forward, his fall turning into a swing as he rocketed toward the glass window. "Your Highness?" someone asked, their voices glitching in and out with the video feed.

Damian watched as the Danny in the video slowly lifted his head in time with the Danny he could see through the quickly approaching glass. Damian only had a split second to register that his boyfriend's eyes were no longer blue, but bright green before his feet smashed through the window and he was landing in a roll on the ground.

Immediately, the camera feed disappeared from his view, allowing him to focus on what was around him. Father crashed through the skylight, showering the cultists in glass as he landed on the other side of the room. Dick landed next to him, fluidly popping up from his roll.

"Shit!" someone shouted, "it's the bats!"

"run!" someone else yelled.

Damian lunged forward, burying his fist into the first cultist's face with a satisfying crunch. The warehouse flooded with loud screams and rapid movement.

"Dammit!" the leader cursed, dragging Damian's attention over to him. He had left the circle at some point, crazily looking around to try and find a quick exit.

Abandoning the cultists he was fighting, Damian quickly sprinted at the man. Unsheathing his katana, Damian attacked. The leader used the bloody knife to parry, scrambling back to get away. Damian growled, about to follow when his eyes landed on Danny's black and blood-stained face right behind the man.

Bright Lazarus green eyes stared back.

~

Danny's vision tilted, or was that just his head? It felt like he was in one of those twisty things NASA shoves their astronauts in under the claim of training for departure and reentry into Earth's atmosphere. or maybe it felt like a hundred pounds of soaked cotton balls shoved behind his eyes and lit on fire?

he couldn't tell, at this point, his head could be detached for all he knew. Wait, no. He's done that before, this feels nothing like that. So, he still had his head... but does his head still have a body???

He would glance down, but he's afraid he won't be able to lift his head again... Had he lifted his head? or had the world moved around him like it does in the realms? Where was he?

Danny's core pulsed in confusion as someone stepped over the circle, quickly followed by someone else. No one was supposed to enter unless a deal was about to be made. Had he made a deal?

Blinking, he focused his blurry vision as much as he could on the figure slowly approaching him. Had he already been looking at them? His vision tilted again, making his gut roll in nausea. A voice slowly broke through the static ringing in his ears, and his shirt suddenly pulled in frightened hands.

"Your Highness! these are the sinners I told you about!" the voice screeched, a pitch so out of the norm that Danny could only assume the voice belonged to a small fly-turned-eldritch little girl.

Wait a moment, that was his title? Your Highness? seriously? Was everyone going to be calling him that? He was the king; wasn't it supposed to be majesty??? He'll ask Dora later; now wasn't the time.

"Oh great ghost king!" the high-pitched voice cracked and lowered back to one he was starting to get familiar with, "Pariah Dark, lend me your power so I might defeat him!"

Did he seriously just call Danny, Pariah??? The man, the leader of the cult, Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem, kneeled in front of Danny, his hands twisted into Danny's ruined shirt. The blurry figure froze, not moving now that Danny had broken eye contact to look down at the horrible man.

Danny might be completely out of it and have no idea what's going on anymore, (he was in so much pain, why was there so much pain? he wanted it to go away, why wasn't it going away?) but he's been trained for moments like this. He can't let anyone see him as weak, not when he has to protect the realms as is his kingly duty.

Clockwork thought it would be a good idea to drop him in the middle of a meeting with some demons right after Danny had pulled an all-nighter and fought three of his rouges. let's just say, Danny was not pleased with the old goat after that. On the other hand, every time he meets a new demon, they seem to respect him much more than before. (he's still not sure what he did to earn that, but whatever)

So, acting like nothing was wrong would be easy peasy.

Sitting up straight, like Dora taught, Danny gazed down at the man who had demanded his attention. He turned his jaw intangible, dropping the gag and allowing him to speak freely again, "why should I?" His voice was echoey, cold, and devoid of the usual emotion.

It was completely different than what it usually was. Like he was a completely different person. (He sounded like Dan) which caught Danny off guard, but he had to ignore it for now. Clockwork had said that Danny Phantom was different from King Phantom, maybe this is what he meant. (hopefully not, he hated sounding like Dan. Was this permanent? was he always going to sound like this???)

"Why?" the leader stumbled, letting go of Danny's shirt in surprise, "because I summoned you! I control you!"

He looked outraged like it was Danny's fault he was in this mess.

Snorting, Danny smirked at the man. "Why should I lend you my power when you haven't even gotten my name correct?" That was like common summoning courtesy 101, right? Frostbite said something like that... or was it Pandora? Wait... wasn't that the demon etiquette? What was the ghost-summoning etiquette then? Also, could he even lend his power to someone else??? like, demons could, but could Danny???

"Who cares!" the man snapped, picking up the knife he had dropped next to him and slashing it at Danny. He didn't even have to think as he instinctively turned his right arm intangible and snatched the man's wrist, clenching it tightly to make him drop it. He was not going to let the man stab him again, thank you very much.

his core grumbled in annoyance, scattering his thoughts for a moment. What was he doing? his arm burned like it had been shot with an ecto blast, but that wasn't right, it was cut by-

Oh, right. cultists. Gotta deal with that.

Fazing the ropes off, Danny carefully stood up. An almost silent whine drew his attention up; it was the fuzzy figure, or now that Danny could actually see a little easier, Robin. Huh, looks like the bats actually made it after all. A little late to the party, but oh well.

Wait...

Shit, he didn't need the Bats up in all of his business. Especially since everything the ritual did to him was recorded, the ghostly stuff included. (Was Damian watching? Did he think Danny was dead now? a normal person would have died right?) He'd have to clear up any misinterpretations later, right now he has to focus on gaslighting the Fuck out of Batman and his partners.

Maybe he won't even have to deal with the Justice League if he pulls this off.

ok, what do they think the situation is? A Cult recording themselves sacrificing some random dude, the dude gets stabbed in the chest (probably assumed dead, he'll have to fix that...), then some ghostly shit happens, and the dude has glowing eyes... which basically lines up with the socially accepted symptoms of possession.

Cool, cool, cool. Danny'll just act like he's possessing himself then. No need to make it weird. Or reveal that he's a halfa.

...

How the fuck was a ghost king, who for all intents and purposes, knows nothing about mortal life, supposed to act when possessing a random body????? does he call it his body?? vessel? homing beacon?

"-leas me this intance! I summoned you, you listen to me! ME! I summoned you. Therefore, you have to do as I say!" the leader's voice broke through Danny's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Again. Man, he seriously needs to get his shit together. Maybe it was the blood loss, they had cut him pretty badly earlier...

Sighing, which hurt a lot actually... he should probably fix that. Mentally shrugging, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to heal his wounds, which in turn settled his core a lot more than he expected. Maybe he shouldn't suppress it so much in the future... OR he should, and just not allow himself to be used in other rituals. Yeah, that's probably it. Man, he's going to have to talk with Frostbite after this is all over.

"You know nothing of which you speak, mortal," Danny grumbled, turning slowly to examine the warehouse. The bats had been fast, or Danny was just really out of it, because not only were all the cultists knocked out but the other hostages were gone.

"I know enough!" the man screeched, hitting his free fist against Danny's arm in an attempt to get Danny to release him. The only thing that was going to do was leave a bruise. Robin growled almost silently in response, which was weird. Why would Robin be upset about this man hitting Danny? or was he more upset along the lines of believing the random "hostage" Danny is "possessing" being hurt?

Yeah, that was probably it. All right, time to act all Ghost Kingly or whatever. If he was about to do something stupid then Clockwork would intervene. Since he hasn't so far, Danny was taking this as the old man giving his permission to proceed.

"Stop bruising my new favorite vessel, or I'll show you why it's a bad idea to mess with the dead." Danny hissed, pulling the man up so they were eye to eye. (it wasn't that hard, considering Danny was short as fuck. Who knew dying would stunt your growth?)

The man leaned back, his eyes wide in fear. His face turned green, or was that just the light from Danny's eyes? how bright were they glowing???

Oh, right, old ghost king, you need to focus here Danny.

Rolling his eyes, Danny harshly (not as hard as he could have though, even if he wanted to punt the man into the sun) tossed the man out of the circle and toward Robin. Nightwing, who Danny had just noticed was also there, quickly rushed over and wrangled the man over to the pile of cultists and tied him up.

"Your vessel," Batman grunted, stepping up to stand next to Robin. (Danny wasn't sure when, but Robin had left the circle. Which meant they probably had someone with magic experience telling them what to do now.)

"Yes, mine," Danny huffed, slowly turning to study the broken windows. his head was killing him, like four migraines stuffed into one killing him...

Do they not know how to use a door? Like, how often do they break through windows? Like, sure, it probably saves them a few extra seconds during a fight, but seriously? Do they at least pay the owners back for the property damage?

"He's not yours," Robin hissed, unsheathing his katana. Batman rested his hand on his shoulder, likely to warn Robin from doing something stupid.

Lifting his brow, Danny glanced down at his body. Did Robin know him? Or was he really just that protective of the people in his city? Even though Danny wasn't technically a Gothamite? He remembered Damian telling him at one point that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. Hmm, yeah, probably just very protective of the people in their city then.

Danny was the same way when he was Phantom; those tourists might not be native Amity Parkers, but they were his tourists. So back off, ghost number 700 of the week. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, that's probably it.

"He," oh wow, speaking about himself was so weird, "was used as a sacrifice to summon me, which makes him mine." Ignoring the fact that his body belonged to him beforehand because, again, this is his body, but you know, can't tell them that. Also, even if this was someone else's body, it'd technically be Danny's. Look, being the ghost king meant Danny owned a lot of weird things, one of those being literally anyone's dead body. (He refused to think about the fact that Pariah had technically owned his body.)

Glancing up, Danny watched as Batman tightened his grip on Robin's shoulder. "Release his body at once, you lowly demonic pit waste! His body-"

"OK!" Nightwing cut in, clapping his hands. "How about this," he glanced at Robin and then back at Danny, clearly nervous about Robin's outburst. Also, what the hell was pit waste? Like, obviously Robin was insulting him, but he could have at least used an insult Danny would understand.

Also, why was Robin insulting a supposedly all-powerful king of the dead? Wasn't he supposed to be one of the more rational vigilantes? Maybe he just got emotional when he thought he failed to protect someone? Which is completely understandable, Danny did not react well when he failed to keep someone safe.

"We apologize for any wrongdoing Robin's words have caused. You willingly go back to your realm, leave your vessel's body behind, and we" he gestured at himself and the other two, "don't get other magic users involved? how does that sound?"

"Is that a threat?" because seriously, that sounded exactly like a threat. Did they seriously not know how to talk to other dimensional beings? Shouldn't they, as Justice League members, know how to diplomatically converse with others? Especially ones that could kill them with a glance? (like, Danny obviously wouldn't do that, but come on!)

His core stuttered again, drawing his attention to the fact that Danny was running out of power to keep up whatever transformation he'd taken on. Which was weird because he's obviously not in his ghost form, so why was it so draining??? And there's plenty of ectoplasm in the air, so, like, this was just ridiculous.

"Whatever," Danny huffed, looking down to study the circle as Nightwing started waving his hands in denial. "I already healed the vessel, he'll technically live." He could feel the pull it had on his core, which meant he had no idea what would happen once it was broken. Would he feel the same things he felt earlier? or would it just be like letting go of someone's hand?

Man, he was too tired for this crap. He wanted to go home and sleep. maybe steel his boyfriend's hoodie and cuddle with Cujo.

You know what? Danny didn't care, he should just break the circle and act like nothing happened. Yep, that's the plan. Still, he should probably prepare for if something goes wrong, you know, like passing out.

Carefully, both because the world was still kind of spinning around him, and to keep the bats from reacting badly, Danny made his way to stand in front of the Vigilantes. They should have quick reflexes; if he passes out, they should be able to catch him, right?

Without warning, Danny dragged his shoe over the line and broke the circle. Immediately his core hissed and all of his energy disappeared. Crumpling forward, Danny barely processed the sight of Robin's panicked lunge to catch him before everything turned dark and his body felt on fire.

Next?

[sunflowershouto]

if they thought you liked the other twin (osamu, atsumu)

𝐚/𝐧: i was suddenly struck by inspo for the miya twins so here's this -leo

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pining fluff, friends to lovers, light angst with a happy ending

my haikyuu masterlist

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔

✰ Atsumu is so whipped for you.

✰ He enjoys the attention he gets for being a star player, and even the fangirls help to feed his ego sometimes, but he didn't care about any of them. Not like he cares about you.

✰ They don't really know him, so what's the point?

✰ You're different to him, though. You didn't care about the fans or the TV interviews, or any of the usual things that people noticed about him.

✰ You got to know him, and it made him want to get to know you back, and somewhere along the way, Atsumu fell in love.

✰ The only problem was Osamu.

✰ Well, maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. It wasn't like Osamu was doing anything wrong, but it was hard for Tsumu not to notice how much time you'd been spending with his brother.

✰ You'd come up to Osamu after practices and whisper something to him, and he'd nod, and Atsumu would have to watch as the two of you disappeared off somewhere that he wasn't invited.

✰ It killed him inside a little, since he'd always thought that he was closer to you than Samu was; if you had feelings for Osamu, then why hadn't you told him?

✰ He tried not to be a dick about it; he would whine a little whenever you and Osamu would disappear after practices, but what he was showing was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to how deeply he was hurting at the thought of you falling in love with his brother.

✰ It was after another practice, and there you were on the sidelines with that stupid freakin' beautiful smile that he loved so much. He was standing by Osamu as they packed their duffel bags back up, and he tried to ignore the pang in his chest as you jogged up, surely going to drag Samu away again.

"Atsumu!" you called. "Could we- Uh... Could we talk?"

That was a surprise.

He glanced to Osamu, who gave him a small nod before shouldering his bag and walking off the court without another glance. He couldn't even be nervous about whatever it was you wanted to talk about; he was just glad that he was finally the one that you were speaking to. "Sure thing, darlin'," he replied, picking up his bag and following you to a more private area.

"Okay, uh- Here goes: There's something I've been needing to tell you for a while, and-"

"Ah see..." Atsumu sighed, all of that hurt hitting him again like a ton of bricks. This was where you finally did it right? This was where you'd tell him that you and Osamu were together, this was where you'd finally rip his heart out.

"You... do?"

"Yeah." He tried not to sound bitter, but he found it seeping through anyway, a harshness weighing down on his inflection. "You and 'Samu are goin' out, right? Figured that out for m'self a while ago, darlin'. Ya don't gotta tell me."

"Wha-" You stared at him in bewilderment as the pieces click into place, and you realized what he'd been thinking all this time. You couldn't help it, and burst out into laughter, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.

"What's so funny?" he asked, puffing his chest out slightly and crossing his arms. He'd spent so much effort trying his best not to lose his shit over the idea of you in love with Osamu, the least you could do was not laugh in his face.

"Atsumu, I am not dating your brother. In any way. I've never even thought about it. I asked you to talk because, well..."

"Oh. Oh m' God." And finally he got it.

"I really like you, y'know? And I was wondering if you'd want to go out sometime? Like, on a date? Osamu actually helped me make all the plans." You were far less nervous now, in part because of Atsumu's misunderstanding, but mostly because of the huge, goofy smile that spread across his face.

"So... I'm guessing you're on board?"

"Oh, sweetheart, you've got no idea," he chuckles, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing the top of your head. "Ya scared the hell outta me, y'know."

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

✰ Osamu's feelings for you snuck up on him.

✰ He'd always been drawn to you, but he didn't think it was any different than anyone else. You were a cool person, and he liked that you saw him for him, and not as part of a matched set.

✰ He loves his brother, but can he be blamed for wanting some things to himself?

✰ He's not annoyed per-se when you start getting close with Atsumu—what he feels isn't harsh. It's more like a balloon deflating through a tiny outlet as he feels his importance to you slowly being overtaken by your friendship with Atsumu.

✰ He can't figure out why it bothers him so damn much when he sees you joking around with his twin, or even just cheering for him at matches.

✰ He doesn't place the feeling as jealousy until he's stuck at home, flicking through channels on TV until he lands on some crappy romance movie. He watches the two main characters play off of each other, and he can't help but realize that one of the leads reminds him of you.

✰ And then he pictures Atsumu across from you, and that awful feeling comes back to him, burning a hole in his chest.

✰ Strangely, it's not so bad once he knows what it is that he's feeling, because at least he can start to deal with it.

✰ Nonetheless, he's a little worried about you. Osamu can read his brother pretty well—well enough to know whether or not he has feelings for someone. Honestly, he'd never thought that Tsumu seemed interested in you.

✰ Valentine's day was tomorrow and Samu had been unfortunate enough to overhear a conversation between you and a friend.

"You're going to bring him chocolates?" Yua whispered to you, her eyes shining.

"Mhm! I think he'll really like them too! I'm gonna go home tonight and work on decorations for the box." You had no idea Osamu was listening, and if you did, you would have probably died on the spot.

"I think he'll say yes," she replied thoughtfully. "Some of the girls have been upset lately; they say that Miya-san really likes you."

Osamu wished in that moment that the earth beneath his feet would open up and swallow him whole. Had he been wrong? Did Atsumu feel the same way that you did? And worse, had a selfish part of him been hoping that you'd be rejected?

His jaw tightened and he turned away, careful not to draw your attention as he slipped off in the other direction.

He considered faking a cold the next day, but that was childish, wasn't it? He dragged himself out of bed and got to school, dreading lunch period, when he knew everything would finally come crashing down around him.

The bell rang for lunch, and he packed his things quickly, not wanting to be there to watch you confess to his brother.

Imagine his surprise when he felt a tug on his sleeve just as he reached the doorway, and turned to see you standing there in front of him.

"'Samu? Could we go somewhere a little more private?" you asked, tensing up slightly the way that you always did when you were nervous.

"Er... Yeah."

What? This wasn't at all what he'd thought would happen, and his head was swimming as he followed you to the library, staring at the brown paper bag that you clutched to your chest.

You ended up behind one of the taller shelves in the back, and Osamu's hands were twitching in his pockets as he stared down at you.

Time was moving agonizingly slowly as you opened the paper bag and withdrew a brightly colored, heart-shaped box.

OSAMU was written across the front in careful lettering, and the world stopped around him.

"Samu, I-"

"I'm in love with you," he breathed out, hands moving from his pockets as he stepped forward to place his hands on the sides of your face, closing the distance between the two of you in one fell swoop.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, and your heart was bursting.

He was grinning when he pulled away, eyes gleaming with adoration as he took in your smile.

"I love you too, you big dork. I... was not expecting this to go so smoothly," you admitted, reaching up a hand to brush back a lock of his hair.

He's beaming when he says, "Honey, you've got no clue just how long Ah've been wantin' to do that."

[dilly-oh]

Trashy Romance Novel

    “Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

    He stopped. 

    The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked. 

    Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before- 

    The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

    “...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top. 

    “You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

    “Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

    “You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

    “Excuse me, WHAT-”

    “Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

    “My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

    “Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

    “Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.” 

    “...May I ask why?”

    “Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

    “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes. 

    “Yeah they definitely did-”

    “Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it. 

    “...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

    “I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-” 

    “Okay how did you really break it?”

    “Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

    “...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

    The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

    “Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

    A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach. 

    Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door. 

    “I need to go.”

    “Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him. 

    Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

    “Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

    Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

    “What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage. 

    “Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

    “Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

    “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled. 

    “You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

    “Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

    “The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

    “Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously. 

    “Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

    “Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

    “So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

    “Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

    “You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began. 

    “He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

    “Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

    “Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

    “You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

    “I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

    Iruka paused, considering.

    “I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

    “That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

    “Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated. 

    “Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

    “I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

    Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff. 

    “And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

    “I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation. 

    He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

    Including the steamy bits. 

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

[vikings-til-valhalla]

Woke up, checked my phone. Got notifications from transphobic cis men threatening me with r*pe. Reported, blocked, moved on, didn't even give the satisfaction of a simple reaction. Those fucks thrive on engagement. So I just give them nothing except an inadvertent kick in the ass by getting them banned, while they don't even see or hear me do a thing to them directly.

Went to go use my testosterone. And found that, yet again, something had been taken from my bathroom without being asked first. It was the soap. That I need. To clean the gel off my hands when I use T.

I texted my sister to simply ask if she could remember to put it back next time. She's done this with my cream, my mirror, and now my soap.

It's been an hour. She's still texting me angrily in giant paragraphs saying it's all my fault and I'm giving her a hard time and she's just going on and on and on and on. I'm ignoring everything. Not engaging with her, just like I don't engage with the transphobes.

Currently, I'm watching a crappy Hallmark romance movie with my mom. I'm suffering. One ended and another began, and I didn't even realize it because, I swear, they all use the same actors, the same plot, the same music, the same everything. It's too hetero for me, too typical, and I am... No!!! Odin give me patience!!!!! How does anyone sit through MULTIPLE of these films????? I've literally read fanfiction written by middle schoolers with better everything!!!!

Y'all I don't know how to handle life anymore... I feel so broken in my heart, and my soul is fracturing, and I'm not sure how the hell I'm supposed to put myself back together anymore...

Mom is now staying at the hospital indefinitely. I'm not sure how long it'll be before she's back, nor do the doctors and nurses, or anyone for that matter. She's still on oxygen. And, if I overheard correctly, she'll be on it via a tank when she's home, like I knew in my heart but didn't want to accept... She doesn't want to see anyone right now... Nobody at all...

I'm scraping by day by day, going without reason or purpose at this point... The only thing keeping me going is hope. Hope that I'll see her home again. Hope that, somehow, she'll be back to being active one day.

I can't remember the last time I showered. The last time I changed my clothes. The last time I did my laundry...

I hate this. I hate everything. I want to sleep and only wake up when mom is home and doing well again.

[0aurelion-sol0]

Yo~

What's your opinion on the Will Byers DID theory? If you like it, which version do you like better? Both interpretations seem cool to me, though I personally like strangertheory's version better ^.^

Hi!

That's a very interesting question. I want to start by saying that I am a singlet, so I don't have DiD or OSDD. My knowledge of this condition is primarly known through medias I consume or some more "advanced" psychiatric documents or researches.

DiD is a condition that hasn't been always best represented or accurately represented since this condition varies from people who have it and so while there are similarities, the experience of it is very much unique and personal. It is also something that in a fictional setting with different genres, themes and tones is very hard to pull off or represent unless you go for the very realistic take on it.

It is bound to be, like many other things in fiction, dramatized. And speaking from a singlet perspective, who also had particular problems represented in fiction, I think it's okay as long as it's done right, in the setting, tone and genre it is in.

For example, we have today a lot more LGBTQ+ representation and like everything, unless you go for the fully realistic route, it's going to be simplified and dramatized. There's so many gender identities and sexual orientations today, you have to simplify it. And that goes for many other things that people care about in media, it has to be done right, but the writers still have a story to tell and unless that subject is the focus of the story, they're not gonna always spend their time talking about that. There is a story to tell.

Secondly, if it is the main focus of the story, that is where people have to do their research and really represent what they are talking about. Not some half-baked representation with dull arguments and points that come from a capitalist and conservative worldview. (Looking at you Disney.)

Now what you are referencing are @strangertheory 's and @kaypeace21 's theories which are about the show being about a DiD system where we see different alters evolving in said story with the host being Will Byers.

There is a lot of evidence pointing towards it, I'm gonna let you go see their posts and read it.

But their theories are very different in the way that they see the show portraying DiD, I have actually find quite a great way to describe the two takes.

@kaypeace21 's take is that elements of the DiD system have been externalised through science-"fictional" or supernatural means. Similar to Legion from the Marvel universe.

(David is a powerful mutant with DiD where each alters, if I remember correctly, has a different power or powers. (Which to this day is still one of the most BADASS thing I have ever come across though it must be quite terrifying for David.))

@strangertheory is an internalised POV on the DiD system existing in the show. She believes that what we are seeing right now is what is exclusively happening INSIDE the DiD system and that what we are experiencing is not our standard definition of the "real world". As in the physical world we all know. This would be in very vulgar terms happening inside Will's self, head, mind or brain. In a sense, it would be a more accurate representation of what DiD is about. A Shyamalan twist if you prefer.

(Though right now I don't have any word for word examples of such take, there is a show called MR.ROBOT that fits a bit of this description since there are moments in the show that we are seeing are only happening in the DiD system itself.

I recommend this show A LOT. It still is a bit dramatized but from what I know the DiD representation is quite accurate and pleased a lot of people with DiD. Also some people on the Stranger Things crew worked on that show.)

Now do I love the DiD theory ?

Heck yeah, I fucking love it! And with a big L! (Am I right "The First I love you?").

And I Love both of the takes and I think each one works at explaining the mysteries of this story. I even think that in some ways both could work well together.

I believe that DiD can be, without the meaning of being used, like many things a powerful storytelling "device" since it is connected to so many themes and other writing tools and is linked literally to the psyche, emotions and personalities of the characters.

I can understand why some people like both or one or respectfully and logically dislike both or one of the takes. But it is close to my belief about what the show is about or were even before I came into this fandom or on the internet, not as complex and thought out as the theory itself but pretty close in the overall themes and aspects of it.

(Though it bewilders me how much people lack imagination or are scared of such twist when I have seen so many of those types before whether it's done well or not, accurate or not.)

Now both @strangertheory and @kaypeace21 are intelligent people with very nuanced takes. And they had their fair share of completely unjust controversies coming from either rabbid ignorant shippers, far too sensible people or downright ignorant stupid people, most of the time 16 year olds. I am not saying that they are perfect, no one is, but the hate they have received is completely unjust.

And I am gonna lay it down right here, they are begging for an accurate representation here, they are not doing this because it just sounds cool and is edgy, they are actually wanting that The Duffers pull this off well. They would be very mad if they use all the imagery just to make it look cooler or scarier.

They are not bringer of truths, they are just like us. They are theorists, they believe in something that they think can explain the story they love and are experiencing. And so far, they have a pretty damn good track record.

They are analysing, dissecting the show because it's what they want to do and they believe in it and they believe the Duffers wants them to do that (I mean how come no one believes it when watching a show like that set in the 80's with so many references ?).

It is also supposed to be fun. Have fun for God's Sake! You can disagree with it but calling names and being disrespectful because somehow they don't agree with very basic, lazy and cliché theories (and no it's not being hypocrite, a lot of people barely do the work.) or are not on board with your creepy projection over the characters IS not okay.

And no, they aren't supporting p*d*philia as some people have claimed. How can you read these theories and come up to that conclusion ?

Most people haven't even read the DiD theory or have gone all the way through with it because they are lazy, easily bored people who don't have the time to just relax, process and think.

Stranger Things is not a kids show, some dumb teenage romance drama show with cool monsters! It's a very mature show, with real problems that are treated, out of which is trauma and mental health. Kids are killing people and even dying on this show. There is sexism, racism, abuse both physical and psychological.

It is a very mature and dark show. And you are being disrespectful to the Duffers when you say they are not that smart or that isn't that important. They are putting a lot of thoughts into this and the fact that no one really recognises this annoys me.

Or people only think it's important when it is only about the things they enjoy in the show. (Which is more hypocrite to me.) OR people are very stupid if they truly think that or are just jealous, bitter that two women have more imagination together and individualy than all of them or that person alone.

Color and costume choices, subtext, context, camera angles, directing, VFX, music, editing, sets, props, script, acting and editing are very important. All must be carefully done or you get very bad or generic stuff if you don't. If you love and you are passionate about the work, you put all the details you can into it.

And the Duffers and all the people working with them have already referenced those sort of things AND the practice of what we do on the internet. They are aware, they know because they have been in the same place too. They grew up with stories too, they made theories too whether it's on the internet or not.

At the end of the day, it is just a theory. An explanation of what is unfolding, may unfold or may have unfolded. I believe in it, I think it is reasonable, it has logic and it makes sense. It also has a lots of elements backing it up.

And the Duffers don't even have to go with DiD or mention it. Will creating some of the characters and supernatural events from his trauma is also similar and more accessible to the masses. But a Shyamalan twist can also work if it is done well.

And I am also open to other possibilities and theories, if they make sense and have enough elements IN THE SHOW and everything connected to it backing it up.

If the Duffers write something completely different but it is as good and also explains even better than this theory than I'll be okay. I love being wrong, it makes me learn new things and enhances the way I approach stories in the future.

If the Duffers only used this as some very inaccurate and disrespectful scary/abstract subtext without commiting to it. That is where I will have a problem.

Or write something completely incoherent with the rest of the show with a bad plot twist catering to the main public masses to sell the story even more and just make money so that they are safe with a fallacy of a work of fiction. Because they are cowards who didn't know how to manage themselves and baited entire audiences or listened to some crappy executive who didn't understand shit about the story. (wink wink, looking at a certain something...)

So yeah, I do love the DiD theory and both of it's takes and if it happens and is done right, with of course my perspective on the thing and PRIMARLY the perspective of people who have DiD or know a lot about it, I'll be pleased with it and I think it could be something very important for stories, people, the world and "art" in general.

Thank you for the question it was really fun! I hope I described the theory and the condition in the right way @kaypeace21 and @strangertheory and also the people who are concerned or know about it if I didn't let me know. Also, if you disagree with what I said, the way I said it or the subject itself let me also know IF it's respectful of course.

[checkmatein3moves]

Hey dear author! You have made one hell of a great story and your characters are bloody amazing! Even the ones I don’t intend to romance are so great, but holy crap I just want to hug them all and tell them they’re loved and appreciated! The emotions, the mystery, the whole group dynamic of a generation of young adults who’ve been burned by crappy parents trying to change the way everything is is so cool! You really have written something amazing! You should feel proud!!

I wanted to say a few things about my favorite part of the book if that’s ok! Hebe is so bloody amazing! If everyone had a Hebe in their life, the world would be a much better and kinder place! I don’t know how you made them, but I’m in love with them! The dynamic they have with MC just hits me right in the feels!!! If my MC could have ran away and married Hebe a long time ago, they would have!! My MC has been in love with her since they were a kid and wants nothing more then to shout it from the rooftops!

I had a couple of soft, super fluffy reaction questions for you in relation to Hebe if that’s ok! If any you don’t want to answer, or are spoilers, feel free to ignore!

1. Would Hebe have been ok if the MC, as they’ve gotten so close to her, also developed a protective brother type relationship with her younger sister and also helped with things like calming her down when she was having anxiety attacks?

2. How would Hebe feel about the MC singing softly to her while they were giving her lap pillows? (Btw, I head canon that my MC does, especially when he tries to get her to sleep or relax)

3. This is purely hypothetical, and forgive me if it doesn’t make sense or is too specific but let’s say MC and Hebe’s father get into an argument because her father talked negatively about her and she just by chance overheard MC tell her dad “The thing about Hebe that makes her so special is she is true to herself. All of her quirks, everything that makes her her, I love them all. That’s why she’s my Hebe, because she is so amazing just being herself. I wouldn’t change anything about her because I love her just the way she is.”

Please forgive me if this is too much or too specific! Also please forgive me if the questions are too corny or cheesy, I’m a romantic at heart! I love your writing and your characters! I am amazed about the detail you’ve put into all of it! I hope you’re well!

ohhh my god thank u so much, like SO much, for supporting me this much, i really just. cannot believe this and i can't express my gratitude enough, omfg. i think these questions are going to be answered more elaborately in story but i'll touch on them now a bit to add some more padding to the pre-checkmate story!!

1. el will appear in the story, probably more often for people who choose hebe scenes specifically, but since the entire hale family (and laurel by extension) are all vital to the construction of the plot then you’ll come across her regardless. hebe’s relationship with her has changed slightly as they’ve both matured, elspeth doesn’t need to rely on her as much, but if MC is close to hebe then el will definitely see them as a sibling figure, either as someone she admires or as just a bit of a problematic fav depending on their personality. if hebe trusts them completely then elspeth will definitely have come to trust them too over the years, and i imagine that if MC was protectively inquiring about her dating life/career she would blush and shove them in the arm and act the same way as if they were hebe or tenny. she would also seek them out for advice if hebe wasn’t around for some reason, because she would know that they’re a safe person and she feels homey around them. 

2. she tries to sing along. MC and hebe definitely know each other’s favourite songs, so it has the adverse effect and actually entertains her at first. it’s a bit like trying to get a baby to sleep; she gets the giggles, wants you to scratch her scalp, she joins in the singing. it does eventually relax her enough to fall asleep, though. she’s so comfy and candid

3. the MC’s relationship with benz will obviously also come up in the story as such a long-standing partner of their family, so i can’t go into loads of detail, but this is at least a somewhat likely thing to happen in the future. most of what MC knows about benz is stories from hebe about how spiteful and mean he is and how controlling he tries to be, but he has held his tongue in front of them to maintain the best professional image he can. also, hebe always suggests hanging out in places where her father definitely won’t be, just so you can avoid dealing with him wherever possible. honestly, the whole thing is kind of sad for her. she would’ve loved to have a normal father that could welcome the love of her life as family, but she always knew that was just never going to happen. i don’t think she would be able to stand by for long and would jump into the argument herself, obviously on the MC’s side, but she’s far less afraid and she can control her shaking voice better. she feels protected and knows she has a home to go to no matter what. 

[shwazzberryswriting]

Raising Liberty

Pairing: Yangyang x Original Female Character|Reader (MAIN), Bae Jinyoung (CIX) x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Hook-Ups, Angst

Summary: As he helps Chenle take care of his condo, Yangyang gets to know one of the neighbors

Word count: 13.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content, heavy usage of swearing *Part 4 of my "The NCT Frat House Series"*

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this Yangyang fic. I had so much fun writing it although it gave me so much trouble, because I just could not stop writing. I couldn't help myself when I put Bae Jinyoung in here, either, which did not make the writing process go by any faster. I feel like I could have edited this more, so apologies ahead of time for any errors or shortcomings! **13.05.2021: Tumblr's been weird with this fic, I keep finding snippets missing for no reason at all. I'm trying to figure out what's going on, so I'm sorry if the story doesn't make sense? Blame my bad writing, IDK**

*Special Thank You to @toastedqueso for suggesting Bae Jinyoung for this fic*

------

The apartment at the other end of the hall was blasting hip hop music, and the skunky smell of marijuana was strong even from where Bian stood. Smoke was lazily drifting out down the dimly lit hallway, and she could only ignore the couple making out next to the stairs as she opened the door to her apartment. She shut the door behind her and locked it, the music only slightly muffled now.

She tried to take her usual three steps to the left to turn on the light in the kitchen. However, her feet immediately collided into something that should not have been on the ground and fell flat on her stomach. Her bag of hair dye and candy crashed loudly with her onto the tiled floor as she shouted, “Goddamnit!”

She was met with two breathless voices.

“Ow! What the-”

“Fuck, what was that?”

The first belonged to her roommate, Kayla.The second voice she didn’t recognize.

Scrambling to her feet, Bian placed her hands on the wall for support before turning the lights on in the kitchen. She looked over to see two naked bodies intertwined on the cheap grey Ikea loveseat she and Kayla bought 6 months before. Her face grew hot as she turned her back to the sight of Kayla with her date. She could hear them frantically picking their clothes up off the floor. Bian looked down to her feet and saw what tripped her, a pair of red and white high top Nike’s.

“Bian! What the fuck?” she heard Kayla say.

“You have a bedroom,” Bian replied, walking sideways toward her bedroom while trying to keep her back to the living room. “You knew I was working tonight.”

“I just got home! I thought you were in bed already.”

“I had to work late!” She whipped around to look Kayla in the face, a different sort of heat hitting her. She was getting tired of Kayla’s bullshit, and she didn't care how naked the pair were anymore. “Even if I had come home on time, I would have been sleeping in my bed. What the fuck would have happened if I woke up and walked out of my room? We agreed to keep bedroom activities in the bedrooms. Privacy!”

“I should, uh, leave,” Kayla’s date said as he walked over to grab the Nike’s, flipping his shiny brown hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, you should.”

“Bian! You don’t have to be so fucking rude! I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

Rolling her eyes as Kayla and her date said goodbye to each other, Bian walked into the bathroom and locked the door. Fuck Kayla, she was turning her hair blue. She’d had a crappy night at her job as a stocker in the Walgreens near the university campus. Not only did she have to work on a Friday night and miss out on partying with her peers, but she had to stay a couple hours late. She didn't make it home until nearly 1:00 AM.

Before leaving work, Bian purchased one box of Splat’s Blue Envy hair dye kit with a bag of gummy bears. She had decided that she needed to do something exciting in her life. As she mixed the bleach powder with the toning liquid in a plastic bowl, Bian thought about walking in on Kayla having sex with a guy. She begrudgingly gave them a point for being part of the excitement.

“Bian.” She heard Kayla knock on the door. “That was really rude. Do you know who my date was? What are the NCT fraternity going to think of me now?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bian replied, looking over at her door. “Our contract's up at the end of the month."

She smirked as she heard Kayla's footsteps walk down the hall. Kayla had been begging Bian to extend their contract for another month since Kayla was still looking for a new roommate. After the shoe tripping accident, Kayla was shit out of luck with the contract extension. Bian had signed up for the student housing program she found at the local YMCA.

She already had a studio apartment set up for her to move into soon with the assistance of a privately funded non-profit. They helped students find a rent controlled studio in various complexes surrounding the university throughout the city. She had given the roommate thing a try, but clearly it wasn't working out.

--

It was nice to come home to a quiet place all to herself. And if there was a mess waiting for her to clean up, Bian appreciated that it was her own mess she had to clean up. The only downside was that whenever anything scary or alarming happened she was on her own. There was no one around to bounce off her reaction, and she took action before thinking under high stress too often.

Her first scary encounter happened on her third Saturday living alone. She’d woken up late and was preparing coffee when she heard a strange noise, like squeaky wheels. Looking around for the source, she set her phone down onto the countertop as she walked toward her fridge, where she thought the noise was loudest. Right below the door of the fridge was a small grey mouse, and its tiny toes were pattering away toward her stove.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, Bian ran out of her studio apartment. She jumped around and swiped at her arms and legs, the mental image of the pink and very tiny paws of the mouse making her skin crawl. There was a slight breeze that caused the warm air to whip her shoulder length hair into her eyes. Another gust of wind caused the hem of her shorts to brush against the curve of her ass cheeks.

Flipping her hair out of her eyes with one hand while her other adjusted her shorts to cover her ass cheeks entirely, Bian felt embarrassed. She was standing outside in nothing but a pair of pastel blue shorts and an old grey tshirt. She jumped backwards as she saw the mouse run out of her apartment through the front door.

She felt her yelp catch in her throat as her feet tripped on something lumpy. She fell backwards into the door behind her. Groaning as she grabbed the door frame, Bian’s back hurt from slamming into the door. By kicking her left leg behind her slightly she was able to plant her feet flat onto the ground, but scraped the side of her pinky toe against the concrete floor.

“Shit.” She groaned again as she stood up straight. Looking down, she saw that the skin near her toe had been scratched hard enough that small beads of blood began forming. A familiar pair of red and white high top Nike’s were lying on their side beside her feet. “No fucking way.”

The door behind her opened, and she turned around to come face to face with the very person that had come up in her mind when she saw the shoes. His angular face was as sharp as ever, and his skin looked as smooth as she recalled it to be. His hair was a lumpy mess, but still very shiny. He wore nothing but a pair of black boxers, an improvement from their first encounter.

Her gaze locked on him, and his brown eyes widened after a couple seconds. His mouth had been slightly ajar, but he closed it before turning to grab something beside the door. He turned back to face her, throwing on a black leather jacket.

“I heard loud noises,” he said, his eyes drifting down to the ground. “Shit! Are you OK?” He pointed to her bleeding toe before looking up and holding his hand out to her. “Let me help. Does it hurt?”

“Your fucking shoes,” she couldn’t help muttering, though she placed her hand in his, seeing his cheeks turn pink. “Why are they outside?”

“Sorry,” he muttered, “...drunk night, bro.”

She inhaled sharply as her pinky toe screamed in pain when she applied pressure on it. She couldn’t even walk ten steps to fall onto her couch in misery.

“Your place?” he asked as he looked at her, moving her arm to drape around his neck.

He hooked his arm around her shoulders so that he could support her weight as she tried not to put too much pressure onto her injured toe. Nodding, she let him lead her into her place. He helped her sit down onto her olive green loveseat at the far right end of the room.

“You live with Chenle?” was the first thing out of her mouth once she was seated.

Chenle lived directly on the other side of the hall, and a fellow university student. She suspected he didn’t need to go on a student assistance program to find a place to live on his own. For starters, she lived in a small studio while he lived in a 3 bedroom condo by himself.

They met a couple days after she finished unpacking during her first week living alone. She had been throwing out her cardboard boxes, and he was leaving his place to take his dog out for a walk. She struck up a conversation with him. Middle age tech workers and their young families made up the majority of residents in their complex, so it was nice to see a fellow young adult around.

Bian and Chenle had completely different schedules, however. They’d been able to have random 5 minute hallway catchup conversations. Usually, Chenle was coming home from his job at a radio station when Bian was leaving for her job. At most, they were friendly, but Bian would have preferred to have Chenle see her in such a pathetic state. At least she’d never seen Chenle naked.

“I’m flat sitting,” the stranger replied, standing up and gazing around her place. “Where are your bandaids?”

“My bathroom is behind the kitchen, medicine cabinet to the left.”

She set her foot onto the edge of her coffee table, and groaned. Blood was starting to trickle down the side of her foot. Wordlessly, the guy returned and knelt down. After wiping the injuries clean with an alcohol wipe, the shirtless stranger rubbed antibiotic cream onto her skin before covering her cuts securely with bandaids.

"Thank you," she said softly when he sat down beside her. He seemed unable to look at her, so she blurted out the only thing going through her mind. “Your shoes need to be burned.”

“What?” He whipped his head up to meet her eyes. “No way, bro. Those are Air Jordan 1’s. They’re thousand dollar shoes.”

“They’re cursed. I tripped on them twice. I drew blood this time.”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I...you have blue hair now."

She ran a hand through her hair, and gave a shrug. His shoes and her hair were the only things she wanted to talk about in reference to their first meeting. She tried to remember his name, but all she recalled was Kayla mentioning the NCT fraternity.

"You're in the NCT fraternity?"

He nodded.

"I'm Yangyang."

"Bian," she said, holding her hand out. He grinned and they quickly shook hands. "So you're watching Chenle’s dog?”

“Daegal went to China with Chenle. He’s gone for a month, so I offered to take care of his place.”

“Are you tired of living with all those guys in that big frat house?”

He chuckled and nodded.

“So what happened?” he asked, looking around her place again. “I heard screaming.”

“I saw a mouse in my kitchen.”

He laughed, throwing a fist over his mouth. She was just about to ask him if he wanted coffee, but changed her mind. Clearing his throat, he turned his laughs into a cough, which sent an irritation up the back of her neck, an eye roll threatening to come.

“I saw it leave my apartment when I was freaking out,” she said. “Maybe bring your shoes inside? It’s probably shitting inside one of your Air Jordan’s right now.”

He immediately got up and walked out. Taking careful steps with her left foot, Bian walked to close her front door. Outside, Yangyang was holding his shoes upside down, shaking them before taking a peek inside each shoe.

“Yangyang.” He looked at her. “Thanks.”

He nodded with a faint smile before turning around to walk back into Chenle’s condo.

--

Two days after a small mouse terrorized her, Bian was Facetiming with her best friend, Lulu, when there was a knock on her front door. Turning away from Lulu's face on her laptop monitor, she got up from her desk and walked to open her door. Yangyang was fully clothed with a measuring cup in his hand.

“Can I borrow some milk?” he asked after greeting her. “I’ll go shopping after I eat, and I’ll buy you a big carton of milk to return the favor.”

“Come in,” she said. “Don’t worry about buying me milk.”

“Hey!”

Yangyang looked over to her desk that sat behind her couch. Bian grinned as she saw Yangyang wave to Lulu, who was waving frantically. Lulu’s arms were a pixelated mess. Bian took the milk out of her fridge and handed it to Yangyang. He set his measuring cup onto her kitchen countertop before pouring the exact amount he needed. He thanked her before leaving.

“Who was that?” Lulu asked after Bian put the milk away.

“Air Jordan 1’s.”

“No fucking way! He’s cute.”

“He hooked up with Kayla,” she replied, seating herself at her desk again.

“So what? You were just roommates.”

“Lulu, if you’re horny, you can go have a sex life of your own. I’m not interested.”

“It’s too bad I’m not there. I would totally ask that guy out.”

“He seems like a player.”

“I’m fine with that. One night? Cool. Fuck buddies? That’s cool, too.”

“What happened to Fernando?”

Lulu pursed her lips before sitting back in her seat and replied, “We’re not supposed to talk about him.”

“My bad.” Bian threw her hand over her mouth for a moment. Fernando had been a Fuck Buddy Lulu caught feelings for. Things didn’t work out well when Lulu confessed her feelings to Fernando. “Uhh, did I tell you that the back of my neck is blue now?”

Lulu smiled, rolling her eyes.

“You’re going to make people think you have a skin condition,” she said, pulling her hair up into a bun. “How long are you going to keep your hair blue?”

“Until I run out of the blue dye,” Bian replied, twirling her hair with her index finger. “My hair’s going to be a mess for awhile. Did you finish your paper about parasocial relationships on YouTube?”

“No. I hate homework.”

Bian laughed. Lulu had thrown her face down onto her desk and groaned.

“I’ll let you go so you can finish your homework. Think about your scholarship. Think about the money. You need to do well.”

“When we see each other again, I’m totally taking you out for drinks. Nothing will get done without you, BB!”

Bian and Lulu said their goodbyes, and Bian got into bed to take a short nap. As she closed her eyes, she thought about how much she missed her best friend. If only Lulu had decided to move out West with her instead of going off to Penn State. Then again, Bian and Kayla were friendly classmates when they decided to become roommates, and now they didn’t talk. She was going to remain grateful that she got the occasional Facetime chat with Lulu.

--

There was a knock on the door. Bian opened her eyes slowly as the knocking continued. Her place was completely dark. She turned over to lie down on her back, closing her eyes again.

“Bian? Are you home?”

It was Yangyang. Would this man give her no peace? She sat up to grab her phone, and shook her head after seeing that it was close to 9:00 PM. So much for a short nap, she’d slept her whole evening away. The knocking continued. Wordlessly, Bian dragged her feet as she made her way to her door, taking her time to turn on the lights in her place.

“Hey,” she said when she opened her door. Yangyang was running a hand through his hair, and he glanced over his shoulder before turning back to look at her. “Is everything OK?”

“Did you hear any weird noises?”

“I can’t say,” she replied, leaning up against her door frame. “I was napping. I woke up when I heard you knocking. Did you hear something?”

“I mean, it might be nothing.”

“What were the noises?”

“Uh...like,” he reached over and scratched his fingers on her door, “and,” he tapped his hands against the door in a gentle pitter-patter. He took a step back, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to laugh or smile. Her cheeks hurt as she sucked on her bottom lip, attempting not to smile. He frowned. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Right, my safety is of your utmost concern.” She cleared her throat, her laughing fit finally having passed.

“Hey, I’m your neighbor now. I understand that means we should look out for each other.”

“Well, all right, neighbor. I’ll keep my ears out for horror movie noises.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she said, standing up straight, “I just think maybe you’re exaggerating.”

“I don’t exaggerate,” he said, tilting his chin up slightly. “The best I can explain it is that way.”

“So it might be a ghost?”

“It can be anything.”

“Yangyang, are you afraid of ghosts?”

“No. I’m not afraid of anything, bro. Besides, you’re the one who thinks my shoes are cursed, and you’re going to make fun of ghosts?”

“Good night, Yangyang. I’ll listen for the scratching and...tapping.”

He ran his hand through his hair again, and turned away. She shut the door and locked it, leaning against the door for a few moments. It was rude of her to mock him. But he was so childish to pretend that he wasn’t scared when he clearly was.

Shrugging, she turned on the light in her kitchen, and began making herself a late dinner. An hour hadn't even passed when she was eating her fried rice and there was another knock on her door.

“Bian?”

She rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the Netflix drama she was watching on her laptop. Yangyang was a shitty neighbor. Even when they were arguing he was knocking on her door. She missed Chenle. She was going to bake him cookies when he returned.

Thanks for not annoying me, Chenle. You’re the neighbor of the year.

“I’m sorry. I am afraid of ghosts. When I was a kid, my best friend and I heard some noises in the shed in his backyard. We went in there, and I thought he was playing with me, but we saw something. The screwdriver, bro, it fell, like, like, we weren’t even near it.”

She paused her show, and set her bowl down onto the coffee table. Yangyang had to legitimately be scared if he was knocking and telling a childhood story to her door. She couldn't sleep anymore anyway.

“Bian? Are you there?”

“It’d be funny if you were talking to the ghost, and not me,” she replied when she opened the door. “I’m sorry for mocking you. Did you want to come in?”

“Thanks,” he replied, taking a step in. He took his slippers off, and chuckled as he sat down on her couch. “This is way more comfortable than the grey one.”

“Yeah, Kayla kept it.” He gave a guffaw. “Are you hungry? I made fried rice with chicken and shrimp.”

“Thanks.” He sat back in his seat as she walked to her kitchen. “I’ve heard about this phenomenon where people wake up but they can't move, like there's something heavy on their chest. In Mexico, they refer to it as the devil sitting on your chest.”

“That’s creepy. Now I won't be able to sleep, even if I was tired." She opened her fridge as she heard him give another laugh. "Do you want water? Milk? Soda?”

“Soda! Fancy, bro. Thanks.”

They sat side by side, and watched National Treasure. Nicolas Cage movies always cheered her up, and National Treasure was second only to Face/Off in terms of her favorite Cage movies, but she watched Face/Off exclusively with Lulu. Yangyang was fun to watch the movie with. They spent the majority of the movie plotting their own treasure heist in Washington DC.

When the movie was ending, Bian froze as she heard a noise at her front door. It sounded like a soft scratching. She reached over and shook Yangyang’s knee, feeling a cold sensation creep over her. The scratching continued.

“Do you hear that?” Yangyang whispered.

She turned to look at him and nodded. They stood and slowly made their way to the door. The scratching continued, and then there was a soft mewling. She shivered. Weren’t there ghost stories where monsters made animal noises to lure victims? Yangyang seemed to mistrust the mewling too as he picked up her red umbrella hanging on her coat rack. She looked through the peephole, and saw nothing. She shivered again.

“I don't see anyone,” she said softly.

He took a deep breath and unlocked the door before opening it slowly, cracking it open just the slightest. The mewling continued, and Yangyang swung the door open before stooping down to pick something up. Bian stepped closer, and saw a small black cat with a white tail in his arm. He set the umbrella back onto the rack.

“It looks like it hurt its paw,” Yangyang said, pointing to the cat’s front left paw. It dangled over his arm while the right paw was resting on his arm.

“What should we do?”

“Maybe we should take it to the vet? I don't know how to dress animal wounds. Is there one nearby?”

Bian grabbed her phone to do a quick search.

“There’s a 24 Hour Veterinary clinic 10 minutes away from here. It says the wait time is about 45 minutes.”

Wordlessly, she grabbed her jacket and purse. Turning around, she saw Yangyang walk to Chenle’s condo with the cat. She put on her socks and sneakers before double checking her purse for her keys and wallet. Once she locked her door, she stared at Yangyang’s shoes as he locked his door. He was wearing his cursed Air Jordan 1's. Their eyes met. She chose not to say anything, though she saw him trying to disguise a smile.

“Is it a 10 minute walk?” he asked as she led them down the stairs.

“Yes." She turned over to see Yangyang petting the cat on the head. “Do you think it’s a house cat?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem feral, but it doesn’t have a collar either. I looked online and I think it can’t be older than, like, 6 months old.”

They were at the veterinary clinic for a couple hours, both worried for the unnamed cat as they pet it to keep it calm. The cat had a sprained ankle, and had its paw wrapped up. They discovered the cat was a girl, and decided to name her Liberty in honor of Nicolas Cage stealing the Declaration of Independence.

Making a quick visit to her workplace, Bian and Yangyang bought Liberty some supplies. They returned home around 3:00 AM, but Yangyang set up food and water while Bian placed the cushion next to the couch. Liberty sat beside Yangyang as he poured water into a small metal dish. She drank the water while he poured some dry Meow Mix into a separate dish. Yangyang set up the kitty litter next to the patio door, walking Liberty back and forth from the food dish to the kitty litter.

It was nearing dawn when Bian talked Yangyang into sleeping on her couch with Liberty. It was late, and Liberty was attached to him. They hadn't heard back from Chenle on whether or not cats were allowed in his condo. As soon as she got into bed she fell asleep with her jeans still on.

--

When she woke up, she heard soft meowing and Yangyang singing. He was singing in a foreign language. Bian wasn’t very good at distinguishing languages. She could speak English and some Viet (very casually only), but beyond that she couldn’t distinguish foreign languages apart easily. Sitting up, she turned to look at her couch.

Yangyang was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out. Liberty was resting in his lap. He was clapping and singing, but not very loud. Liberty meowed a few times, as if she was singing with him.

Bian smiled as he continued to sing when Liberty got off his lap. Bian used that moment to turn around onto her back, and stretch her arms. When she sat up, Yangyang had stopped singing, and was getting up onto his feet.

“Morning,” she said, slowly getting off her bed. “Have you been up long?”

“Nah. I got up like, 5 minutes ago.”

“What were you singing?”

He winced, his left eye squinting as he looked away from her. He tried adjust his face to seem nonchalant.

“Just ‘Schnappi’.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he said looking over to Liberty. "German nursery rhyme. Did you see? Liberty knows how to find her food and kitty litter. She’s a fast learner.”

Bian walked over and sat down next to Liberty, watching the cat lap up water with her bright pink tongue.

“Do you think we should ask the property management office about finding a cat?” she asked, taking out her phone. She took a few photos. Yangyang sat down close to Liberty and joined in on taking pictures of her. “Maybe someone will report their pet missing.”

“We could knock on the other neighbors’ doors. I don’t know how an injured kitten could have climbed up a flight of stairs.”

“You think she fell from above?”

“It would explain her injury. We should ask the neighbors on the ground level, too.”

Bian got up and fried some eggs to eat with her leftover fried rice. As they ate, they went over their day’s plan. She was able to send an email to the property management with a picture she’d taken of Liberty. They planned to take Liberty out to knock on their neighbor’s doors after they freshened up for the day. An hour after they finished eating, Bian brought Liberty outside before shutting and locking her door.

“Are we ready?” Yangyang asked when he’d come out and locked the door to Chenle’s place. Liberty lifted her head and began mewling, turning her head around.

“She’s already picking favorites,” Bian said, frowning. She held Liberty out to Yangyang.

“Liberty,” Yangyang said, holding the cat in his arms, close to his chest, “you have to be nice to Bian. It’s her home you live in. She’s the one who bought you your food and bed. Be nice.”

He scratched her head, and Bian reached over to stroke her back. Liberty set her head down, settling comfortably in Yangyang’s arms. With his free hand, he brushed his hair out of his eyes and held the cat out to her. Wordlessly, she shook her head and led the way to the stairs. She knew when to accept defeat.

“Come on. I think we should start at the fourth floor and make our way down.”

After an hour of knocking on doors, and telling the same story about the weird noises and finding the hurt cat multiple times, there was no owner for Liberty. Of the 14 other apartments in their building, 10 opened their doors and none of them had a missing kitten. They left a note at the front door to the 4 unanswered units.

“I have to work tonight,” Bian said when they returned to her place. “Chenle texted me to remind you that absolutely no cats in his place. Do you think Liberty will be OK alone?”

“I can watch her. I’ll bring her with me to my room at the frat house. I’ll come back when you’re off work.”

“You’re OK with taking the bus?”

“It’s a ten minute ride, it’s cool.”

--

Bian had finished her morning shift, and was excited to go home. Yangyang had invited her to the NCT frat party that was being thrown that night. She hadn’t been to a house party in months. She was in need of getting liquored up. She wanted to have a drunken smoke while rattling off about nothing with some friends. When she made it home, Yangyang was sitting at the top of the stairs with Liberty in his lap.

In the 3 weeks since they’d found Liberty, no one had contacted either of them about the cat they found. They had walked around the neighborhood to look at Missing Pet flyers while posting up Found Cat flyers to share. Since there were still no answers from anyone, Bian and Yangyang worked up a schedule to watch Liberty since she was still recovering from her sprained ankle. Yangyang brought Liberty to classes with him, hiding her in his jacket or bookbag. When he had to leave for dance classes or sports, Bian was home doing her homework or winding down after work, which provided her quality time with Liberty.

Every night, Liberty slept in Bian’s place, and that meant Yangyang had been sleeping on her couch. In the first week, Bian and Yangyang attempted to be strict, trying to get Liberty to sleep in her bed beside the couch on her own. Without fail, though, she’d walk over to the front door to whine and scratch at the door. Bian would have to knock on Chenle’s door and ask Yangyang to sleep with Liberty on the couch. Early in the 2nd week Bian tried to take Yangyang’s spot, but the scratches on her shoulder and arms was a clear sign Liberty only wanted Yangyang.

“Hey!” she greeted as she rushed up to sit beside him. “Getting some fresh air?”

“Management came by,” he said, his eyes fixed on Liberty in his lap. “One of the neighbors at Lot 12 said his cat had a litter of kittens a few months ago. He has pictures of Liberty with her mom at his place.”

“Lot 12 is at the far west end,” she said. Her building was Lot 5, which sat at the north east end of the complex. He gave a dry chuckle, and looked at her.

“Don’t do that. I tried to think about how it’s not logical or that it doesn’t make sense. Liberty belongs to the Silva family over at Lot 12. All of their kittens were documented at their vet’s clinic.”

“So, Liberty is...she’s going back to her owners?”

“I told management the SIlva family can come here at 7:30, so you’d have time to say goodbye to her. They want to see her ASAP.”

Bian had grown attached to Liberty, and she had become good friends with Yangyang due to their time spent together. She knew this didn’t mean she and Yangyang would stop being friends, but she wondered if this meant they'd stop seeing each other every day.

Yangyang placed Liberty in Bian's lap and they spent their last minutes with her in silence, petting her. Feeling Yangyang wrap an arm around her waist, she felt a familiar rush of blood ride up her neck to her cheeks. For the past 3 days, he began showing her physical affections. They were mostly him holding her hand when they walked or sat next to each other, and she liked the attention, but she only allowed herself to enjoy it by reminding herself that they were strictly friends.

“Kitty!”

A girl who could be no older than 8 was rushing over to them, her black pigtails bouncing wildly. A dark haired middle aged man was walking behind her. Yangyang stood up as he and the man raised their hands to greet each other. Holding Liberty in one hand, he offered his free hand to help Bian stand up.

Yangyang and Bian greeted the man and his daughter, who was jumping excitedly and clapping her hands. After introducing themselves, Yangyang and Bian explained how they found Liberty and what they had been doing for the last month with Liberty. The man, Dave, found the story amusing, and thanked them for taking good care of the cat. He liked the name Liberty after Bian confessed that the movie National Treasure was the inspiration for the name.

“What’s her real name?” Yangyang asked, handing Liberty over to Gloria.

“Kitty!” Gloria exclaimed.

“That’s a cute name,” Bian replied, giving the cat one last scratch on the head. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

“I did, and you said it was too simple,” Yangyang said. “I said, ‘Kitty, cuz she’s like, a kitten.’”

“I’m sorry,” Bian threw out sarcastically. She smiled as she felt Yangyang squeeze her hand. “Kitty has gotten used to us calling her Liberty. I hope she’ll respond to Kitty.”

“Can I name her Libby?” Gloria asked, staring from her dad to Bian to Yangyang and back.

“She’s yours, of course you can,” Yangyang said, giving her thumbs up. “Libby suits her.”

After exchanging contact information with the Silva family, they said a final goodbye to Libby. He hadn’t let go of her hand, so Bian led Yangyang back up the stairs. She was feeling sad, much sadder than she thought she’d be to say goodbye to a cat. He glanced at her when they reached her door.

“At least you can finally sleep in Chenle’s place now,” she said, letting go of his hand to find her keys. Chenle was returning in a couple days, so that didn’t really mean much. “You won’t have a cat sleeping on your stomach either.”

“It was nice,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “You still want to go to the party?”

She nodded, though she was beginning to feel anxious. The party seemed like such a juvenile thing to do, given the new circumstances. It felt like much more work than she wanted to do, having to change her clothes, take the bus, walk to the frat house, talk to people...she wanted to watch Peggy Sue Got Married, one of Nicolas Cage’s early works. Yangyang had been vocal in his excitement for the party, and she didn’t want to flake out on him.

“I need to shower and change. Knock on my door when you’re ready to leave?”

“I’ll give you at least an hour.”

“Oh, I need an hour to get ready? Weren’t you the one who forced me and Liberty to sit in your smelly dorm room for 3 hours when you wanted to switch up your shoes?”

“My shoes are what give me swag.”

“Your shoes literally hurt me.”

“Are we going to keep talking shit or are you going to shower?”

Bian laughed and rolled her eyes, finally unlocking her door. He hid a laugh behind his hand as she watched him enter Chenle’s place. She immediately took a shower after removing her clothes. Though he’d made her laugh, she was still feeling down. She tried to sort out why her mood had shifted so strongly.

Liberty was a cute cat, and she had been surprisingly fun to take care of, but the sadness and anxiety seemed too much. As she stepped out of her shower, Bian had to admit to herself, at last, the truth. She liked Yangyang.

Working out a schedule to take care of Liberty that first week had been something she and Yangyang did without thought. They saw a hurt kitten and took care of it. That time together quickly turned them into friends. In the following weeks, every day felt like an adventure, given that they were always actively looking for LIberty’s owners.

What really set her nerves off and made her stomach muscles ache as if she’d been doing sit-ups all day was the realization that she wouldn’t be spending every day starting and ending her day with him anymore. She knew it wasn’t because he made a good friend and roommate. They argued for at least 15 minutes every night when it was dinner time. He always wanted to watch a TV show, and she wanted to watch movies.

But she smiled every time she thought about him. She’d spent the last week half hoping, half dreading that he would lean over and kiss her every time they were close together. There were more than a handful of occasions in which she’d gone to sleep, envisioning Yangyang sleeping beside her, instead of on her couch. But she’d been excusing it on the fact that she was just feeling bad for him.

With Liberty gone, there was no excuse. She wanted Yangyang to sleep in her bed, because she wanted him in her arms. She wanted to kiss his cheeks and touch his chest, take his clothes off, finally admit to him that she’d been spending more than just a few days wanting to kiss him, to touch him intimately. Did he feel the same way?

Bian had been in denial about her feelings due to the memory of their first meeting still lingering in her mind. In that moment though, thinking about what Yangyang’s lips would feel like against hers, she was able to burn that bridge and never look back. Would he be able to? Neither of them had really been able to talk about it much, aside from mentioning his Air Jordan 1’s and her fading blue hair.

“Bian?”

The knock on the door made her jump, and she threw her hand up to her chest. She’d been thinking so hard and focusing on her makeup, she hadn’t realized an hour had passed already. Her lipstick had smeared at the bottom left corner of her lip. Grabbing a tissue, she got up and opened the door for Yangyang. She gave a gentle laugh as she saw that he was wearing his cursed Air Jordan 1’s.

“I told you my shoes give me swag,” he said, sitting down on the couch. He threw his left foot up in the air to show it off some more. Instead of returning to her desk to fix her makeup, Bian sat down beside Yangyang.

“I think I like you,” she said. She pressed the tissue to her lips. She needed to work on her “act now, think later” approach to certain situations. He sat up straight as his eyes widened for a couple seconds. He touched her wrists and she let him take them into his hands. He held her hands in her lap. “I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine. If you just want to be friends, we can be friends. But like, I think, I’m pretty sure, like, I think I like you.”

He pulled her hands into his lap, and leaned over to get closer to her.

“I like you, too,” he said, his eyes drifting to her mouth. His lips were close, she could feel the warmth from his breath.

“Don’t say that just because,” she said, moving back slightly, trying to capture his gaze. He smiled at her as his eyes moved up to meet hers. “If you want to be Friends with Benefits I can’t give you that. I like you too much. If you want this to be a one time thing, we can’t be friends anymore. I want us to be clear with each other.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and lifted their hands to kiss her hands. “I thought you wouldn’t want me coming around anymore.”

“I want you to come here whenever you want, so long as we’re exclusive and like, dating.”

Her tongue had felt heavy as the last five words came out of her mouth. She’d had shitty exes before. The rules needed to be clear. She was putting her trust in Yangyang by being this upfront and hoping he would not only agree to this but be true to his word.

“I was going to tell you that I wanted to confess to you that I like you on the bus,” he replied. “That way if you reject me, you would have to be nice to me because we’d be in public.”

“I’m not the mean one,” she said, slowly retrieving her hands from his hold, squaring her shoulders. He tightened his grip, a smile crossing his lips as he leaned in closer to her. “You laughed at me when I told you about the mouse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly before brushing the tip of his nose against the right side of her jawline. “You’re not mean. I wanted to tell you awhile back, but I didn’t want you to reject me. I like you too much to fuck this up.” He paused and licked his lips. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.”

She was barely able to say it above a whisper. He released her hands as one hand reached to grab her hip. He pulled her closer to him as his other hand rested on her neck. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments. Bian savored the way his eyes gazed into hers before drifting to her lips, and then he kissed her. She reciprocated the kiss immediately, both her hands touching his neck.

His lips were warm and tasted musky, like inhaling the air on a rainy day in the forest. She took in a small breath as their lips parted. Right as she opened her eyes, he kissed her, making her furrow her eyebrows as she shut her eyes again. The tension in his lips loosened as she felt the tip of his tongue push against her lips. He traced the shape of her lips with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into her mouth. She pushed back, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against his. He placed both hands on her hips.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said breathlessly when he broke their kiss. He kissed her lips quickly before moving his head back. He guffawed as she frowned at him, running her fingers into his hair. “Want to go to the party?”

“No.” She grabbed onto his hair with her right hand, and then stroked his cheek with her other hand. “I like it right here.”

“Really? Couch sex sucks.”

“We’re going to have sex?” She guffawed as his hold loosened. She kissed his neck, licked his Adam’s apple a couple times, and ran a hand down to his chest before planting a soft kiss onto his cheek. His eyes were shut tight, and he groaned. “I’m kidding. Do you want to have sex?”

“After the party?”

“I don’t want our first time to be drunk sex.”

“We won’t drink.”

“I don’t want to be high during our first time either.”

He chuckled with a head shake, seeming to be scoffing at her. Reminding him what they were compromising about, she placed a hand on his hip before kissing his neck a few times.

“We won’t toke. Easy. We can drop by for a couple hours?”

“You really want to go?” she asked, already feeling tired just thinking about having to grab her shoes to put on.

“You don’t?”

“I want to stay in. Saying goodbye to Liberty made me a lot sadder than I thought I’d be.”

“That’s why I want to go out. I need stress relief.”

“Compromise?”

“What do you have in mind?”

She stared at him for a few moments. She was going to make sure they weren’t going to leave her place for the rest of the night.

“So for stress relief, how about you take me to my bed right now? You can fuck me in any position you want.”

Immediately, he stood up with her hands in his. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she kissed him, resting her hands on his shoulders. She carefully walked backwards as they continued to kiss.

Once she felt her body come into contact with the foot of the bed frame, Bian’s hands slid down his body, caressing his chest and the side of his body before finding his belt buckle. He breathed heavily as he stopped kissing her. She planted kisses on his neck. He helped her remove his belt and unbutton his jeans.

Wordlessly he palmed her tits, and as she moaned his hands grazed down to grope her ass. She moaned as she sucked onto the skin of his neck, and gyrated her hips against his when he squeezed her ass cheeks roughly. She immediately moved back up to kiss him, and moaned into his mouth.

She felt his hand slip between her legs to squeeze the inside of her thigh. He stroked his fingers up and down against her thigh, paying no attention to the growing heat in her core. Slowly, he moved both hands up to unbutton her jeans. They stopped kissing to finish taking their clothes off.

As soon as she kicked her underwear away and was completely nude, she walked to the left side of the bed, and sat down on it. She cupped her breasts with her hands and massaged them as she looked at Yangyang. He licked his lips before walking to stand beside her, his eyes never leaving her. Her cunt throbbed with an aching heat as she looked at his toned body, wanting to plant kisses onto every curve of his muscles on his shoulders, chest and abs.

“How do you want to do it?” she asked. She could only meet his eyes for a couple seconds. His eyes were focused on her chest before going back up to meet her gaze making her face grow hot.

He sat down beside her, and caressed her neck before they kissed. She rested her hands against his chest. His skin was soft to the touch, but as she ran her fingers down to his stomach his muscles felt firm and strong. He moaned into her mouth as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. She felt his fingers stroke the inside of her thigh before they moved up to brush against her stomach.

She stopped kissing him, and gave a soft moan. His mouth captured her earlobe and he sucked on it for a second before kissing her shoulder. Her hands shot up to grab his shoulders as his hands pushed for her to open her legs wider.

She looked at him lick his lips when he made gentle circular motions against her stomach with his fingers. With every centimeter lower he applied more pressure. His fingers brushed against her pubes before crawling to the folds of her pussy.

“Yangyang,” she breathed out, feeling the pad of his middle finger touch her clit. It’d been throbbing, wanting attention. She felt a jolt deep inside her stomach, but it disappeared just as harshly as it came. His fingers left her as she tried thrusting against his hand. “Don’t stop.” His eyes were focused on her lips, and his eyes drifted up to meet her gaze. “Please.”

“OK, because you said please.”

He smirked before leaning over to kiss her, his tongue working hard to keep her mouth preoccupied as he kissed her roughly. His fingers glided along her folds before going down to touch her labia as his palm pressed into her vulva. She felt his fingers stroke into her slick heat. His palm applied pressure onto her clit, and she began thrusting her hips gently. She whimpered against his lips. Her mind was spinning as flashes of heat flared inside of her with every motion of his hand on her pussy.

“How do you want it?” she panted, breaking from his kiss. “Yangyang, how-”

His hands touched her hips and he moved to get off the bed, but she placed her hands on his arms, stopping him.

“You have to tell me,” she said. She kissed him. “If you can’t say it I’ll just give you a hand job.”

She pressed her palm flat against his growing erection, and he threw his head back, taking in a sharp inhale. He exhaled loudly, and groaned as she wrapped her hand around his cock. She gave it a couple pumps, and used her other hand to touch his balls. She pressed the pads of her index and middle fingers against the bottom of his ballsack and rubbed it back and forth.

“Doggy style-fuck!” he blurted out before giving a moan.

A thrilling heat hit her chest and cheeks as she saw how she turned him on. He reached up and groped her breasts, keeping her hot for him too, his fingers flicking her nipples. The jolts of pleasure from his hands on her breasts were almost enough to bring her to the edge of her orgasm. She stopped rubbing his ballsack, but continued to stroke his cock as she felt like her stomach was going to twist into knots. He leaned over and kissed her before asking for a condom.

She released his cock, and turned over to grab a condom and a bottle of lube from her nightstand. He took the condom after kissing her again, stroking her cheek after nibbling on her bottom lip. Immediately, she kissed his neck and sucked gently on it for a few seconds, hearing him tear open the packet.

“I like that,” he panted when she massaged the inside of his thigh.

She kissed his neck again. Once he had the condom on securely, she kissed him, nipping his bottom lip before releasing him. She stood up so she could face the bed, and bent forward after grabbing some pillows for cushioning under her stomach. Planting her feet flat on the floor, she arched her back to stick her ass out to him.

She moaned as she felt his fingers rub her folds, spreading the lube over her cunt. As he pressed his front to her back, Yangyang planted kisses onto her shoulders and back. His fingers teased her clit as he rubbed his fingers up and down against it before leaving to play with her entrance. He pushed the tip of his finger into her hot core, but pulled away as she’d push her hips back, wanting more of his touches. She felt his fingers return to press down on her clit.

“Yangyang,” she panted, feeling his fingers leave her body. “Please.”

“‘Please?’” he said softly against her ear, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs to massage her ass cheeks. His left hand continued to palm her ass as she felt him slide the tip of his cock against her slit. She gave a loud inhale of breath and panted out short, sweet moans.

“Fuck me?” she asked in a loud whisper, gyrating her hips, desperate for more friction. “Please, Yangyang, fuck me.”

Her hands grabbed onto the duvet under her as she felt the pressure of his cock enter her. She shut her eyes and opened her mouth, losing her voice as every sensation of his cock sliding into her cunt sent a rapid heat up to her head. He moaned as she felt the weight and heat of his body leave her back. Both of his hands clapped onto her hips, and he groaned as he pushed in deeper.

Right as she thought that he was going to fill her up all the way, she shut her mouth to muffle a moan as the friction of his cock sliding out of her sent a new wave of heat into her body. The sounds of her ass clapping against his thighs mixed in with their shared moans seemed to encourage Yangyang to fuck her faster, and she could only push back against him.

“Fuck-yes!” he groaned as she felt his hand reach under her body, between her legs, to try to rub her folds.

“Right there,” she managed to pant out as she felt the tips of his fingers tease her clit, rubbing up and down in a small and fast motion.

As she was about to reach down to shove his torturous fingers away, his fingers pushed down with more pressure, going in a circular motion. The grip on her hip tightened and he thrust into her in fast, shallow pushes. She could only lay down flat onto the mattress, resting her head onto the mattress with her hands still fisting the duvet, and enjoy the way he was fucking her. A strong heat rode up her back before she felt her pussy squeeze onto his cock, her orgasm washing over her.

“Fuck.”

His curse was barely audible as she felt him slow his thrusting, carefully pulling out an inch before slowly pushing back in over and over. As he continued to rub her clit, the over-stimulation was too much. She began whimpering, wiggling her hips, all of her nerves seeming to be jumping around wildly inside of her.

He groaned as he gave a deep push, his hold on her hips tightening as he came. She panted heavily, unable to move, listening to Yangyang move around after he withdrew from her. With concentrated effort, she tilted her head up slightly to see him tying up the used condom before walking to her bathroom to discard it.

When he returned, he ran a hand down her arm before he helped her move to get into bed. They kissed when they were lying in bed together. He brushed her hair aside as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She rested her head onto his chest, and closed her eyes as she felt his body relax.

--

Bian didn’t know what woke her up, but the sun was just rising when she opened her eyes. The golden rays of the morning sunshine radiated through her windows, lighting up her living room. She rubbed her eyes before sitting up, and felt her drowsiness disappear as she saw Yangyang quietly put his boxers and jeans on. He silently walked toward her front door with his shirt and jacket in his arms, and a heat hit her chest and face that made her see red.

“Yangyang,” she called out when he’d opened the front door. She was hoping that she was misunderstanding the situation.

Yangyang turned around and his face remained blank as he froze. His eyes were unable to meet hers, and she felt a pain inside of her, like her stomach was going sour. Wrapping her bed sheet around her body, she jumped out of bed, and picked up his shoe and threw it in his direction.

“You asshole!” she shouted at him as he ducked away from the shoe.

He continued to avoid her gaze and quickly grabbed his shoes before rushing out of her place, shutting the door behind her. She could only fall onto her bed and took in a deep breath as she felt tears blur her image. Shutting her eyes, she grabbed a pillow and cried into it. Yangyang was the asshole who lied to her, but she still blamed herself for falling for his sweet lies.

--

“Welcome back, Chenle,” Bian said when she saw him. It had been about a week since he’d returned.

She’d just returned from a full day at work, and was relieved to see that it was Chenle who was leaving his condo. He looked to be taking Daegal out for a walk. The tiny white furry dog was standing next to Chenle as he was locking up. He gave Bian a friendly smile as he waved to her.

“Hey. How was Yangyang as a neighbor? Too bad I never got to meet the cat.”

“It was OK,” she lied, hoping her tone sounded casual. “Will you hold on for a second before you leave? I have something for you.”

He looked surprised but nodded politely. She quickly went into her place, and took the large blue box on her coffee table after putting her purse down onto her couch. Handing it to him, she gave him a bright smile.

“Yangyang made me realize that you’re the best neighbor I’ve ever had. Thanks for returning.”

Chenle gave out a loud laugh, and took the lid off of the box.

“Thanks, Bian. You didn’t have to bake me cookies. I didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.”

He laughed again before putting the cookies away. They had a short conversation where he told her that he went back to China for an uncle’s wedding. His family had thrown an elaborate wedding, and he had composed the music for the wedding and for the reception. Bian could only guess how opulent the wedding was if it took his family an entire month to help throw it.

Returning to her empty apartment, Bian sat down on her couch, and considered doing her routine of listening to Mariah Carey’s “Breakdown” on repeat and sob for a while. She’d spent every night after her morning with Yangyang sitting on her couch, crying to Mariah Carey, hating Yangyang. And hating herself for falling for him. She didn’t want to be so hurt, because it wasn’t like they were lovers, but the bond of their friendship was ruined.

She’d laid it all out to him with clear rules, and he’d lied through his teeth. The risk of trusting that he cared enough for her to be honest hadn’t paid off, and now she was an emotional wreck. It was a wonder she was able to keep up with her schoolwork. She was tired all the time, but was only able to take short naps.

The night before, she’d woken from a dream with Yangyang in it, and she didn’t want to sleep again. After baking some sugar cookies and decorating them into yellow smiley faces, she had enough time to find an old jewelry box. She’d cleaned it and decorated it before lining it with parchment paper so that she could place the cookies inside.

She did appreciate that Chenle was her neighbor. He’d never spent an entire month being a good friend to her, having a lot of laughs and jokes as they took care of a small cat together. He’d never followed that up with telling her that he liked her too much to fuck up a relationship with her only to do exactly that hours later.

She knew Yangyang wouldn’t be stupid enough to come visit her. He’d been a coward to try to dip out after sleeping with her. In her emotional distress she hadn’t bothered to touch her phone. When she had to pick herself up and get ready for her evening shift at work, Bian saw that Yangyang hadn’t tried to contact her. She’d laid in bed for 6 hours. Even then, she chose to block him entirely, if not for him, for her. She didn’t want to end up drunk calling or texting him at some indeterminate point in the future.

Tired of crying, Bian thought about how angry she felt thinking about Yangyang, and decided she had to treat him like her last ex. She couldn’t let this pain rule her life. He was the one who should feel like shit, not her. Lulu had been the one to tell her to blast Big Sean’s “IDFWU” as her first official, “I’m Over It” move.

“I’m over it,” she said out loud before playing “IDFWU”.

Opening up her Bumble app, Bian decided that she should at least become friendly with someone out there. It wasn’t like she was looking for romance when she got to know Yangyang. At least now, she could knowingly choose her potential dating partner.

--

Bian was touching her hair, pressing her lips together as she checked herself using her phone’s camera. She’d gotten her hair done professionally just 3 days previously. Her hair was back to black, and the back of her neck was no longer blue. She fixed the red lipstick that had bled at the center of her bottom lip, dabbing a tissue against it.

“You look gorgeous,” she heard a familiar voice say.

Looking up, she felt blood rush up to her cheeks. Despite this being their third date, Jinyoung always had the same effect on her when his dark eyes pierced into hers. He bent forward and kissed her cheek before sitting across from her.

They’d talked and flirted on Bumble for a couple weeks before meeting. Jinyoung and Bian were upfront about their relationship. They were friendly, and were sexually attracted to each other.

The first date had been a coffee date, to get a feel of what their relationship could be. The sexual tension was instant. The second date was at the movie theatre where they spent the majority of the movie making out. For their third date, it was another coffee date since she’d just gotten off work. She needed caffeine after a long day stocking diapers and dozens of brands of shampoo.

“Have you ordered your drink?” she asked, putting her phone away.

He nodded. They shared their day’s events with each other while they waited for their cappuccinos to arrive. Bian had to deal with pretending like she didn’t know that she was ringing up her Philosophy TA’s pack of condoms and pregnancy test. Jinyoung’s story was much more light hearted as he spent his day completing his essay on Music Composition in the 21st Century.

“Did you want to watch a movie at my place after this?” she asked him. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow though.”

“What movie do you have in mind?”

“Maybe a mindless Roland Emmerich film? Like, Independence Day?”

“You really like crappy action movies?”

“They’re fun!”

“No judgment,” he said before taking a sip of his drink.

She laughed behind a hand as he set his cup down. He had a thick foam mustache on his upper lip.

“You have foam,” she said, pointing to her lips.

“Here?” He pressed a napkin to the left side of his lips.

“Everywhere.”

He sat still as she reached over and wiped the foam off of him, touching his chin with her left hand. The way his eyes were focused on her made her feel the heat on her cheeks once more. She didn’t want to let go of his chin. Their eye contact broke as someone bumped into Jinyoung’s chair. She released him as he looked over his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he and Yangyang said at the same time.

“Yo,” Yangyang said to him, throwing his hand up to greet Jinyoung. He froze as he and Bian locked eyes. The smile on his face disappeared. He lowered his hand and looked from Bian to Jinyoung. She wasn’t sure if she was even breathing.

Yangyang was once more fully clothed, wearing another pair of his expensive designer shoes with his leather jacket. He looked just as handsome as she remembered him to be. The sight of him pissed her off just as much as the last time they’d been together, too.

“You’re here together?” he asked, his tone soft but his eyes were focused on her.

“Do you know each other?” Jinyoung asked.

“Yeah,” Yangyang replied immediately. “You should go, bro. We gotta talk.”

“Jinyoung, I’m sorry,” Bian said politely as she stood up. She took hold of the sleeve to Yangyang’s jacket. “Can you excuse us for a moment?”

She rushed them out of the cafe, and walked them away from the windows of the store. Turning around, she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“You like me so much you’re fucking around with Bae Jinyoung?”

“What right do you have to be acting like this?”

“Like what? I can’t be insulted that you’re fucking around with someone like him?”

“‘Someone like him?’”

“Yeah, like, like, a dude who fucks around a lot.”

“At least he’s honest about what he wants.”

“Did I ever deny being a player?”

“I’m not going to do this,” she said, wanting to throw more shoes at him. “I told you I couldn’t be friends with you if you just wanted to hook up. If your feelings are hurt that I’m dating other people, that’s on you. You said you liked me too much to fuck it up. You were the one who got up and tried to leave quietly. Your words and your actions, not mine.”

She dug her nails into her palms as she turned away from Yangyang, refusing to let him have the last word. Returning to Jinyoung, she was able to blink away the tears that had threatened to come out. She wasn’t going to let Yangyang make her cry again. And she sure as shit wasn’t going to let him ruin her date.

“Everything good?”

“Yes,” she said to Jinyoung as she stood beside him. “I’m pretty tired. Did you still want to go to my place?”

Wordlessly, he stood up, and offered his hand to her. As they walked to her apartment, Bian made sure to rest her hands onto his biceps, and complimented his strength. From their flirty texts before they met, she learned early on that Jinyoung was very receptive to compliments about his physical traits.

“How strong are you, really?” she asked him, stroking his arm as they approached her apartment. “Show me.”

He smiled, giving a small guffaw, before picking her up into his arms and carrying up the stairs. She laughed as he set her down next to her front door after she pointed to the right. Once they were inside of her place, she turned on the lamp next to the coat rack. She felt his large hands touch her hips from behind, and he pulled her to him before he kissed the back of her neck.

“I’ve waited all day to kiss you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around the front of her body, pressing his body against hers.

One hand cupped her breast and he kneaded it over her layers of clothing. His other hand reached to the front of her jeans, undoing the buttons and zipper, while he kissed her neck again. She gyrated her hips back into his body, making his hand at her jeans stop to hold onto her body for a few moments.

She panted heavily between a few soft chuckles as she felt his erection grow against her. He loosened his hold on her as she turned around to face him. Immediately, he pressed his body up against her, pushing her back to the wall. The heat of his cock against her stomach made her so wet she felt her heat start to dampen her underwear.

He kissed her and she squeezed his muscular arms before moving to massage his shoulders. His hands were pushing her jeans off her hips, and stopped to grope her ass before pulling them down her thighs.

They broke their kiss as she pulled her jeans and underwear off. He pulled his shirt off, revealing his well toned, muscular body. Every piece of Jinyoung seemed too good to be real. Placing her hands onto his hips she kissed his right nipple before licking it. He took a deep inhale before giving a loud, fast exhale.

“I like your lips,” he panted out before placing a hand on her cheek so she would stand up straight. He kissed her and ran a hand through her hair before reaching down to knead her breast. She reached over to palm the shape of his hardening cock over his dark denim jeans.

“Fuck me,” he panted as she reached under his jeans and briefs to wrap her hand around his cock. She stroked him and planted wet kisses onto his neck. “Give me a moment.”

He retrieved a condom from his pocket before removing the package, and unrolled it onto his cock. Using his hands, he directed her to wrap her arms around his shoulder before putting his hands onto the back of her thighs so that he could pick her up. She hooked her legs around his waist, and they kissed before he pressed her body up against the wall when he wrapped an arm around her waist.

After she rested one hand onto his arm to loosen their embrace, he lifted her shirt up and dipped his head down to kiss her breasts. Eager to gain access, Jinyoung hooked the fingers of his free hand along the underside of the front of her bra. With a little tugging, her breasts fell out from under the underwire of her bra before he pushed her bra to bunch up over her chest with her shirt.

His tongue licked along the side of her left breast. She moaned softly as he wrapped his mouth around her hardening nipple. When his mouth released her breast, he lifted his head up and kissed her neck. They looked down together as he used his free hand to rub his cock against her slit.

She moaned and said, “Right there,” in a soft pant as he pressed it up against her aching clit. He rubbed it harder, kissing her neck, before pushing his cock down lower to enter her. His cock sent the nerves in her clit wild and she could only gyrate her hips in a shallow back and forth motion as an intense shiver went up her back. They kissed as he thrust up into her.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Bian broke from the kiss and gave out a soft moan as she felt him begin a deep and rough rhythm. He held her hips firm against the wall with both his hands. His hips pushed up into her, and she felt the heat intensify between them as the pace and force of his thrusts were heavy. She let go of him to run a hand through his hair as his teeth nipped at the skin of her shoulder.

Lifting his head up with one hand, she kissed him. He roughly pushed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned against his lip as she came. She gently pushed her tongue against his as she recovered from her orgasm. He planted kisses down her chest before his tongue flicked her nipple harshly. His mouth wrapped around her breast and he sucked on her sensitive nipple. Her orgasm had one last gasp of air and her hips shook against his firm hold as she felt a hard crash of pleasure hit her gut. He came as he thrust up into her. He panted heavily as she planted soft kisses along both sides of his neck.

“How are you?” he asked her when he pulled his head back to look at her. She stroked his neck gently.

“Good,” she said, feeling like her body was glowing.

The feel of his softening cock inside of her filled her with a radiating heat. No sound escaped from her as the sensations of his cock leaving her sent sharp waves of heat snapping around her insides. She had to shut her eyes as his cock withdrawing from her sent her nerves on edge.

He gave a dry chuckle as he gently set her down on her feet. They held onto each other as they walked to her bathroom to clean up. When they were both clean and properly dressed, Bian walked Jinyoung to her door.

“Hit me up if you ever want to watch a movie again,” he said, touching her chin with his left hand. “You were amazing.”

“Have a good night,” she said before planting a kiss onto his cheek. “Thank you for a lovely night.”

When she was alone, Bian returned to the bathroom to set up a bubble bath. She felt good after hooking up with Jinyoung. He was a good kisser, and the sex was exceptional, too. Jinyoung texted her when he’d reached home, wishing her a good night. She put on some relaxing music before getting into the bath.

Bian had been looking for someone to have a good time with, and Jinyoung had been upfront that he was looking for a short fling. He had said that he was open to a potential Fuck Buddy setup. In that moment, Bian was fine with leaving things as they were. Jinyoung was good in the bedroom, and she got along with him, but she didn’t get boyfriend vibes from him. It was a good situation to be in, knowing that a guy like Jinyoung was likely available if she was ever in need of some sexual release.

--

Bian was cramming for her finals when there was a knock on her door. She shut her eyes for a few moments before slowly getting up from her desk. Looking through her peephole, she saw a face she hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Gloria, hi,” she greeted the little girl, who had her hair up in a high ponytail. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Libby?” she asked. “Um, this morning she didn’t come eat, and I haven’t seen her.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Yeah. My dad told me not to come bother you, but...well, Libby came here before, you know?”

“OK,” Bian said as she turned around to grab her phone and purse, “let’s take you back to your place, and I’ll call the cat whisperer.”

“Who’s that?”

Shrugging her shoulders in response, she scrolled through her Contact List and had to do some Settings changes. She pressed her lips together as she held her phone up to her ear and slipped on her orange Converse Chuck Taylors. She stood with Gloria at the front of her door as she waited and hoped that Yangyang would pick up her call. It’d been 5 weeks since she’d seen him at the cafe, and though he didn’t take up a lot of mental or emotional space in her daily life, she’d be a liar if she said that she didn’t think about him every other day.

What he did was shitty, for sure, but she couldn’t stop herself from missing him. He’d made her laugh. They were able to trade insults all the while working well enough together that they nursed a cat back to health for a month. She didn’t want to get too sentimental so she always allowed herself moment to remember the anger she felt when she threw his shoe at him. Watching Nicolas Cage movies also didn’t carry as much joy as they used to, and she blamed it partially on him.

“Um, hello?” she heard Yangyang say softly.

“Hi. Um, Gloria said Libby is missing.”

“What? Libby? As in our Liberty?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. There were few people in the world who could make her feel such strong, conflicting feelings as Yangyang did. “So, um, can you do me a favor and uh, help Gloria and me find her?”

“I’ll try to be there in like, I don’t know, 20 minutes.”

“Don’t rush.”

After talking with Gloria’s parents, Bian learned that the last time anyone saw Libby was around 8:00 AM when the nanny had gotten the mail, and Gloria had a quick morning hello with a couple of the neighboring kids. Gloria realized Libby was gone when her food remained untouched a couple hours later. Assuring Gloria that she would return with Libby, Bian sent Gloria home when Yangyang met with her at the playground to the complex.

He was wearing his Air Jordan 1’s, which set off Bian’s temper, and she crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself in control. They walked toward her apartment building as she told him all the information she had collected.

“You have to do it,” she said as they stood at the bottom of the staircase when she said that Libby had been missing for at least 6 hours.

“She’s not missing,” he said, standing up straight, looking at her with suspicion. “You just want me to do this because I was a piece of shit.”

“You’re still a piece of shit. I’m not lying. Call Gloria’s dad. They’re worried.”

She smiled, thinking about Yangyang singing the German nursery rhyme he used to sing to Liberty. It had become his song with Liberty. If he sang it, chances were Liberty would start meowing, just like that first morning together. He groaned, but took a deep breath and began singing in German. Despite herself, Bian began giggling. It was a very serious situation, and she was still mad at him, but the cute nursery rhyme coming out of his mouth made her laugh and smile.

“Liar,” he said, abruptly stopping his singing.

“I’m not! I’m not!” she protested between fits of laughter. She had her hands on her stomach, her body hurting from the giggling. “I swear, she’s missing!”

She threw her hands over her mouth and he seemed like he was about to say something, when they heard a faint mewling nearby. Yangyang turned around and began singing again. The meowing started once more, and Bian followed Yangyang as they walked closer toward the large trash bins at the far east side of the complex.

“No,” she moaned softly, “Libby found a way into the trash?”

“What the fuck?” Without hesitation, Yangyang climbed up to look into the giant yellow painted metal trash bin, and glanced inside. “Libby, baby, what are you doing in the trash?”

He jumped in, and groaned.

“Is she OK?” Bian asked, walking close to the bin.

“Yeah. She probably smelt the tuna in one of these bags. Fuck, bro, it stinks.”

A few moments later, she saw Yangyang climb out of the bin, a filthy looking Libby tucked into his left arm. She helped him climb down, and they walked back to her apartment.

“I should go home,” he said as she unlocked the door.

“No, you smell! Clean up before you go home. I can’t give Libby’s baths either. It was always you.”

Once they entered her place, she led Yangyang to her bathroom, and offered him a couple towels before leaving him to clean up. She sat down on the ground next to the door, and listened to him wash Libby in the bathtub.

“I have my washer and dryer out here,” she said loudly, hoping he heard her over the noise of the water running. “If you want to give me your clothes, I can give them a quick wash. You’ll, um, have to be here for awhile though.”

“I’m fine with that,” he replied. “Thank you, Bian. You don’t have to.”

“You’re the only one who can find Libby. Don’t think I’m doing this because I want to mend things or whatever.”

“I’m sorry, Bian.” She gave a loud snort. “You’re right, this is all on me. If you don’t want to see or speak to me after this, like, yeah, like, I get it.”

“Why did you sleep with me if you didn’t want to date me? I mean, I know why, but like...why did you do it to me?” She felt tears forming and let them fall down her cheeks. “My friendship really meant that little to you?”

The door opened, and Yangyang knelt down next to her. He handed her a tissue, which she accepted wordlessly.

“I fucked up,” he said, sitting beside her in nothing but a towel. He set a bundle of grey towels down in front of him, and she realized Libby was resting at the center of the bundle. After her frightening day in the trash, Libby was knocked out. “I fucked up our friendship. I would do anything to be your friend again.”

She reached over and rested her hand over his. They shared a smile.

"You didn't have to come here today. Despite our bullshit, you showed up. That's definitely friendship material.”

“So we’re friends again?” he asked.

“You jumped into the trash without even thinking twice about it. You got your designer shoes dirty. That’s like, boyfriend material.”

“Boyfriend?” he asked. He gave a half smile, though it faltered as his eyes locked with hers.

“I mean,” she said with a shrug, “will you be my boyfriend if I told you we won’t have sex or kiss for at least a month?”

“No kissing?” he asked, but looked at her, and then glanced at Libby. “That’s more than fair.”

“You won’t cheat on me.”

“You’re the one who went on a date with Bae Jinyoung.”

“Do you want to go there?” she asked looking directly into his eyes. She could ruin their relationship if he was going to push it. It would hurt him a hell of a lot more if she were to reveal what she and Jinyoung did on their date. “What’s your history with him?”

“Nothing, really,” he said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

“We play some sports against each other. He’s good at football, and I’m good at basketball. That’s it. He’s...he was a bro.”

“OK,” she replied. “Is it like, a frat thing? Because if it is, I really don’t want to know.”

She sat up as he remained close lipped. Her butt felt numb from sitting down on the tiled floor for so long, she stood up. Glancing into the bathroom, she asked Yangyang to roll up his dirty laundry into one of her towels so they could wash them.

Seeing his shoes covered in grease stains and thick brown grime, she threw her hand to her mouth. His Air Jordan 1’s hadn’t just gotten dirty. They were ruined. He shook his head, his face morose, as he picked up the shoes with one of her stained hand towels hanging on a hook.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she followed him to the kitchen.

He threw the shoes into the large red trash bin before turning around to embrace her into a hug. His body was pressed against hers and as she wrapped her arms around his back she felt her body heat up. His skin felt soft, but the muscles on his back were firm as she held him tight. Her mind clouded with relief. He gave a dry chuckle before speaking.

“Fuck the shoes.”

--

Now, with a sequel: 7 Step to Forgiveness

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!” Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. “Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.