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missjomarch · 9 months ago

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Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight.

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks.

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you.

“Luke.”

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips.

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?”

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?”

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile.

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance.

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat.

“Fine, Jack.”

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.”

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed.

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place.

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl.

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months.

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving.

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him?

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked.

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.”

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?”

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window.

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.”

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest.

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare.

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.”

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh.

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.”

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it.

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face.

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke.

“How long have you been following behind me?”

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face.

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left.

“What’d I miss?”

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you.

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you.

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away.

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.”

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.”

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face.

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.”

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on.

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?”

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment.

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates.

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage.

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors.

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother.

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you. So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone.

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less.

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent.

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned.

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.”

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back.

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.”

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone.

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?”

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates.

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house.

“Someone hit me.”

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option.

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you.

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke.

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand.

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center.

“For what, love?”

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?”

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way.

“Mhmm. Lukey?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.”

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster.

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?”

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand.

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear.

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.”

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead.

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey.

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.”

“Luke.”

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’ Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality.

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything.

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.”

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself.

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.”

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.”

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him.

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?”

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.”

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?”

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself.

“Even Secretariat.”

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now.

#jay writes #luke hughes #nj devils #hockey

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solecize · 10 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. warnings for more mentions of death and jungkook being an idiot

part five: the phone call, the apology and the confession ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xii. the phone call

being on the farm made you feel like a kid again - that was a given. when you were young, you often made your chores into games, to see how fast you could feed the chickens or tend to crops. however, being the sole individual responsible for upkeep and for the way the farm was now your source of income, it was evidently no longer a fun little game when barbies got boring. while you were in charge of your own schedule, you eventually hit the point where you felt like all of your energy was gone everyday. one of the only things that was keeping you sane was your friends.

on the other hand, jungkook was having the exact opposite effect - driving you insane. for more than one reason.

the email blast for movie night was originally forwarded to you by taehyung and you did accept, which you ultimately regretted come the night of. you usually didn’t partake in much during the week, as you reserved your social battery for the saloon on the weekends, but you didn’t see any issue upon receiving the invitation.

“do you want me to make you a coffee?” jungkook offered, as he stood across from you on the opposite end of taehyung’s kitchen island.

it was the usual cluster of people gathered in taehyung’s charming bungalow, close to the river. you’d never been in a group of friends that were so adamant to their dedication of spending time together and not using work or school as an excuse to shut themselves in. most of the boys had brought food or drinks without any prior arrangement or communication, resulting in an abundance to share.

you were glad you thought of picking up a bottle of wine beforehand and wasn’t the odd one out, but with your fatigue, you knew you weren’t going to be able to enjoy it yourself. it was the day for cleaning pens and sorting waste, so you’d been outside all day and smelled exactly like your chores. even though you took a lengthy shower and mentally prepared for movie night, you were exhausted beyond measure.

you shook your head. “i’m okay, thank you. i have to get up at five tomorrow.”

from behind you, seokjin emerged from the living room and despite the current movie only halfway through - it was apparently jungkook’s pick, captain america: the first avenger - it looked like he was ready to leave. leftovers in hand, he brought jungkook in for a quick side hug and then did the same for you.

“bye guys! sorry i have to leave early. y/n, i’ll come by tomorrow after work for the eggs?” seokjin beamed, leaning on the door frame and you noticed a handful of pink carnations in his grasp.

you gave him a thumbs up. slowly, but surely, the tides were turning for the farm and making profit. you didn’t lack confidence that you would be able to make money for yourself, but you were unsure of how long it would take for your income sources to be stabilized. building a customer base off of the farm’s longstanding customers was easier than expected, but you had to work on improving efficiency and diversification of your products. at the end of the day, though, you were just one person and you were doing well.

this is what you continued to attempt to explain to your parents. shortly after seokjin’s departure, before you could join the rest of your friends and finish the movie, you received a call from your father and you excused yourself to taehyung’s backyard.

your mother was the type to be overbearing and overprotective, while your father had a knack for criticizing you and making you question yourself. since moving, you seldom provided business updates to your father, which likely led to this phone call in the first place.

“you’ve thought about how you’ll need to make further investments, right?” his voice was dry and it made your blood boil.

breathing in deeply, you simply replied, “yes.”

“okay, have you been managing your time well? the physical demands of the job?”

it was as if your dad kept rattling off a list of reasons why you were incompetent for your role and you didn’t notice until now, but you had dug half-crescent moons into the palm of your hand. no matter how many times you said yes or that you had it covered, he continued going.

by the time you finally escaped the phone call, you already began thoughts of doubt and wondering if he was on to something. you were saying you were handling things, but were you really? your worn down, sore body was screaming at you as you pondered.

eventually, the sliding door into the house creaked open and you remembered where you were. jungkook appeared, having slipped on a denim jacket to combat the slight wind in the air and stepped out to the deck. there was a small frown drawn on his face.

“you okay?” he asked.

nearing a month in town and several weeks of jungkook’s presence becoming a constant around the farm, it was safe to say that the two of you grew close once again. it was more than you were willing to admit, that was for sure. it still surprised you when you heard how harsh your tone was when you opened your mouth.

“i need to go home,” you snapped. you could feel your eyelids growing heavy, too, and you couldn’t be around anyone but yourself right now.

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “already? that’s too bad, you missed most of the movie.”

“just gotta go,” you mumbled, stuffing your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

you got up, remembering that you left your sweater indoors, but jungkook still stood in front of the door. you had to hold back from grumbling.

“i was hoping you’d go for a ride with me before you went home.”

“a ride?” you sputtered. “no, i can’t do that.” your response was immediate and you noticed the way his eyes widened for a moment, as if he said something wrong. you were too tired to clarify how tired you were or how you haven’t been able to bring yourself to attempt riding again. it was a topic of discussion for another day.

jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. “oh, okay.” and just like that, you side-stepped right past him and into the house to grab your things.

the exit was unceremonious and it was fast, as you were holding back tears from the phone call with your father. you could vaguely recall jungkook asking you if he could walk you home, but you already flew out the door. your body was shaking the entire time after the conversation and you could only focus on making it home.

your heart was in your throat and your shoulders were tense, as your head hung down the entire walk back to the farmhouse. you knew things weren’t going to magically be easy, but you at least thought you were doing a good job. you only wanted your parents to think the same.

amidst your physical and mental exhaustion, you realized you took a wrong turn and weren’t sure where you were. your chest tightened and you could only wonder what kind of bad luck you rolled for the day. cheeks wet from stray tears, you wanted to scream.

you pulled your phone out, only realize it was a dead battery. maybe you were as helpless as your dad kept making you out to be, since you seemed to always find yourself in these kinds of situations. a cold breeze danced around your body and you shivered aloud.

“y/n?”

you recognized the voice to be seokjin, who no longer held flowers and seemed to be heading home. you hastily wiped your face, which he didn’t miss. he tentatively approached closer.

“the farm is the other way, where are you going at this time of night?” seokjin asked gently.

“i guess i took a wrong turn,” you sighed, hoping the way your breath shook when you did so wasn’t so obvious.

seokjin offered to walk you back home and this time, in all your weariness, accepted. you peered over as the two of you walked and saw jungkook’s name flash on his phone. you remembered how you left the house and a heavy load of guilt settled in your stomach. you made the metal note to apologize to him tomorrow.

“i thought you had somewhere to be?” you tried breaking the awkward silence.

seokjin never missed a hangout with the boys and even if he had somewhere to go, he made sure that he provided snacks or anything of the sort to his friends. he was the type to take care of everyone. even you, a newcomer to town, seokjin didn’t forget to make you an extra cookie when he made some for the boys or save a seat for you at the saloon.

his smile seemed different than usual. “i made a quick stop to the cemetery to say hi to my wife.”

you broke eye contact, looking down. you weren’t sure until that moment, but over the past month, you were forming the idea that seokjin’s wife wasn’t around. you connected the dots, but didn’t want to ask anyone for confirmation.

“can i ask how long?” you spoke slowly.

“two years today. taehyung didn’t know what day it was when he planned the movie, but i insisted that everyone go on with the plans and i would just leave early.”

he explained that he moved to amber valley to be with his wife four years ago, before she passed away due to a terminal illness. you couldn’t even imagine. like jungkook, you would have never been able to tell with seokjin. you wondered if it was the same for others when they interacted with you, if the remnants of your grief were evident in your day-to-day motions.

you said, “loss is a funny thing. it follows you everywhere and you don’t notice until you remember to turn around.”

“that means loss is also something that you have to leave behind you, y/n. it’s not easy, but you get there.” the small smile on seokjin’s face, whose energy never faltered, was comforting. “it’s people like you and jungkook that inspire me to look forward from loss. i think we’re all doing well for ourselves.”

before the conversation with seokjin, you wouldn’t have been able to agree with that. you’d spend the last hour or so dwelling on the things you weren’t doing right or weren’t doing enough of. but, he was right. you were doing your absolute best and that was all that mattered.

xiii. the apology

the days that followed, you saw less and less of jungkook. deep down, you knew it was your fault. you didn’t mean to storm out on him after the call with your dad and you lacked opportunities to apologize. he still replied to your texts, albeit with less enthusiasm and playfulness than usual. it seemed like he had legitimate excuses to step away from the farm, though, having heard from taehyung that mrs. oh was sick that week and jungkook had to take on more at work.

you decided to take matters into your own hands. after failing to appear at the saloon that weekend, you decided to take an extra long lunch break on sunday and found yourself walking over to his store. this wasn’t the first time you visited him at work - in fact, you stopped by earlier in the week because you were passing by and you wanted to bother him. it wouldn’t be out of place for you to pop in.

“is jungkook not here?” you asked sangwoo, mrs. oh’s thirteen year old son who was propped up in front of the register, watching a tv show on his phone.

sangwoo’s bored eyes looked up at you. “dunno. he’s not working today.”

that was strange. you thought that was the part of the reason why he couldn’t come by the farm. you thanked the boy and left the store, wondering what you should do next. you contemplated texting him, but he left the meme you sent last night on delivered.

as you walked back to the farm, you decided to take an early left turn and soon ended up in front of jungkook’s house. since moving back, this was actually your first time seeing his house again. it looked mostly untouched from your memories and you noticed that the white pick-up truck that once belongs to jungkook’s dad was still kept in the driveway. the tree in his front yard still had the same tire swing that you once almost broke your neck fooling around on.

you weren’t entirely sure about what you were doing to say when he opened the door. you decided against outright accusing him of avoiding you, even though that was exactly what you thought he was doing. maybe take a page out of his book and conjure up a wild excuse.

when you rang the doorbell, you realized there was no sound that followed and softly knocked instead. in a few moments, the door creaked open, just enough for you to make out jiwon’s big eyes.

“oh, hi y/n!” her toothy smile reminded you of her big brother.

you mirrored the smile. “hi jiwon. do you mind getting jungkook?”

she opened the door wider and you could make out the living room behind her. there, you noticed hoseok fast asleep on the leather recliner seat in front of the television. jiwon quietly put a finger to her pursed lips, pointing to hoseok’s sleeping figure. she stepped out and you made space for her, as she closed the door.

“your brother is out?” you asked.

jiwon nodded, clutching onto the teddy bear in her hand. it was the same one that once belonged to jungkook. you remembered because when you guys turned eleven, you made fun of him for a whole summer straight for still carrying it around. her other hand held a handheld electric fan to ward off the amber valley summer heat.

“he took leo to the vet. why are you looking for him?” she sang the last part, swinging back and forth, looking up at you with a smirk that seemed to know more than you did.

you assumed leo was jungkook’s horse, knowing he continued to keep them at his house. that instilled a sense of relief in you, as it made you think less than he was intentionally avoiding you. your bubble was shortly burst.

jiwon sat down on the porch bench. “oh, and he’s definitely avoiding you!”

“what?” you blinked, thinking that you didn’t hear her correctly.

“i said hoseok is the worst sitter, i’m bored with nothing to do.”

this little girl was definitely jeon jungkook’s sister, the mischievous glint in her eyes was all the proof you needed.

for the next half an hour, despite having only left the farm for a quick break, you broke out in conversation with jiwon and enjoyed chatting with her. you always wanted a sister and you always complained that god gave you jungkook as a friend instead. you couldn’t believe how bubbly and intelligent jiwon was for her age.

jiwon was sitting crisscrossed, playing with the arm of her stuffed animal. “unnie. . .” you didn’t even flinch when she called you that, instead smiling. “can i ask you something?”

“sure, jiwon,” you replied.

she looked off to where her dad’s old truck was parked. “can you tell me what my parents were like? oppa gets kind of upset when i ask.”

you froze. the last month, you were dedicated to connecting with the valley once more. over time, you remembered the smell of coffee in town square and the way the sand on the beach shone like glitter. you remembered what it was like having neighbours and how cutting fresh grass felt like home. it was gradual, but you were slowly getting there. regardless, some memories only lived in picture frames and buried in your mind, underneath years that have gone by.

“they were the best people,” you offered, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself on the same porch with jungkook as kids, where his dad taught you two how to play chess and his mom would always come out with iced tea after a long day. “your dad was the kind of man who was good at everything. he showed jungkook and i how to fly a kite, how to play chess - “

“i love chess!” she interrupted, the smile on her face widening at the thought of her dad sharing something with her.

like jungkook, jiwon looked at the brighter side of life. it was admirable. you could only wish it was contagious.

jiwon began swinging her legs on the bench. “i have the best oppa, but i feel bad for him sometimes. he was really smart when you were little, right?”

“as smart as he can be with that dense skull of his,” you joked, which made jiwon giggle.

she said, “did you go to college? i know oppa didn’t go to college so he could take care of me. . .”

you reassured jiwon that jungkook only wanted the best for her and that he was happy right now. at that moment, you made out his figure approaching, walking with his horse by his side. you quickly stood up and you didn’t notice the way jiwon smiled in satisfaction when she watched you do so.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” jungkook was puzzled at your appearance.

before you could answer, jiwon interjected. “can unnie watch me next time?” she was giddy, holding onto your arm. your heart warmed, knowing that jiwon took a liking to you.

“jiwon, you know y/n is always busy,” jungkook scolded, pinching her nose. “sorry, i know she’s a handful.” he turned to you, apologetically.

“hey!” jiwon piped, but he waved her off.

you shook your head. “actually, i wouldn’t mind at all. i’d love to look after her whenever you need.”

jungkook’s eyes softened. he cleared his throat and gestured for jiwon to come closer to him. he whispered something in her ear and handed over leo’s lead rope to her, presumably directing for her to take the horse behind the house. she rolled her eyes at him and did so.

it was just the two of you now, standing underneath the beating sun. his cowboy hat protected his face, while you were covered partially by the house. still, he came closer and gently tugged you into the house, murmuring something about the heat wave that week.

like the set-up of the farmhouse, there were several electric fans on at once inside. now that you were able to observe closer, you saw that jungkook’s house was a lot different than what you remembered. the furniture was different and was arranged differently. the old fireplace was closed up. his kitchen was no longer filled to the brim with snacks, as his mother used to keep it, and the only thing on his counter was a coffee machine.

“i wanted to change things up when they passed away, so i wouldn’t dwell so much,” he spoke, as if reading your mind.

there was only one picture that you recognized on the walls, being one of you and jungkook when you were approximately six years old. captured was the same living room, where the two of you were playing with power rangers figures. everything else was foreign, mostly recent pictures of jiwon. there was a single family portrait by the staircase, which depicted a toddler-aged jiwon and a teenage jungkook.

you snapped out of it when you heard hoseok’s snores, still fast asleep a few feet away from you. jungkook snorted when he noticed. his voice remained at the same volume, unbothered.

“why did you come by?” jungkook put his keys on the table next to the entryway.

you sighed. “i just wanted to apologize for the other night. i’ve been under a lot of pressure and my body was so exhausted that day, too.”

he nodded slowly. “it’s okay. i was just. . .worried about you. jin told me he ran into you on your way home.”

“yeah, i had a lot going on.” you brushed off imaginary dust off your tank top. “i didn’t mean to intrude, sorry.”

jungkook assured you everything was fine and you did believe him in the moment. however, for the next week that followed, it appeared as though everything was but. you weren’t sure what affirmations you were chasing, but you were aware that things were off with him.

things were normal when you hung around everyone else, but jungkook still hadn’t returned to his usual routine with you of coming around the farm. he was lively when you conversed at the saloon or when you ran into each other in town, but it seemed like an invisible wall was erected between the two of you and you had no idea where it came from. you, being you, made it your mission to figure out why.

xiv. the confession

yoongi gave you a deadpan expression when you came to him for advice. you didn’t actually mean to come to him for advice, but as you happened to run into him at the hardware store, the sales clerk made a side comment that you couldn’t ignore.

“where’s your boyfriend? don’t you two usually come in together?” she asked you, as you came in to check out new work boots.

you were perplexed when you realized she was talking about jungkook. for the previous weeks, you accompanied jungkook to the hardware store whenever he found a new excuse of a repair to help out with.

“he’s working today,” said a voice behind you and you turned around, seeing it was yoongi with insect repellant in his hand.

the sales clerk seemed pleased with the answer. “oh, i see! i was just surprised, i’ve never seen you without him at your side!”

“hi yoongi, nice seeing you,” you said, after giving the young lady a polite fake laugh.

the two of you made small talk about the weather and walked out together. when you made it outside, you decided to be blunt.

“i made jungkook upset, didn’t i?”

he looked at you blankly. “no, he’s just under the impression that you’re overwhelmed with work and feels like he’s been ‘too much’” yoongi made air-quotes, as if repeating back jungkook’s exact words.

“in what way?” you questioned.

“i literally just said - oh, you guys are so clueless with each other.” yoongi squeezed his eyes shut. “bless your heart, honestly.”

even though a part of you felt it every time you opened your front door and saw jungkook, or even just seeing his name pop up on your phone, you remained silent. what were you to even say to that?

he said, “oh, come on. even the little teenager at the hardware store can see that the two of you have feelings for each other.”

sometime in between sharing meals together, sneaky glances when the other wasn’t looking and unassuming banter, there were undefined feelings that settled in the cracks. there was understanding and there was nostalgia. what you felt for jungkook you had yet to calculate. there was no other answer to what drove you towards him.

that same night, you decided it was time to put your foot down. you texted jungkook, confirming dinner with him and asked to meet you at the saloon. that was mistake number one. you don’t know why you thought it was going to be a good idea and realized where you went wrong when you entered, noticing that a few of your friends were lingering. it shouldn’t have surprised you, considering it was everyone’s typical hangout spot.

you waved to hoseok and taehyung, declined jimin’s offer of a beer, and sat down at the very back of the bar. you hoped that this would be a sufficient sign for them to leave you be and then, jungkook walked in. you pretended to not notice and he walked over to your friends, greeting them and chatting with them briefly. namjoon then pointed towards you and you groaned, knowing that the boys were about to spectate your conversation.

“hey, y/n. did you order yet?” jungkook smiled, taking the seat across from you. you saw a thumbs up from namjoon, away from everyone else’s line of vision, and you wanted to face palm.

you shook your head. “how are you?”

today, he was dressed in his typical attire. all black, wearing dark denim and a wife beater tank. jungkook took off his hat when he walked in and placed it next to him. every outfit he wore seemed to expose his beautiful tattoos and it was always hard to not stare. you got a glimpse of his chest pieces a few times when he was working on the farm and the heat proved too aggressive for him, which prompted him to go shirtless. it was cute when he hurriedly covered up when you approached at these times, apparently too shy to be half-naked around you.

jungkook began talking about work and apologized for not coming around as much. the small talk made you even more nervous, having walked in and ready to lay down the law. the thoughts about him and what you thought were unresolved feelings between you and him were following you like bees to honey. despite this, you grew less confident as the mundane conversation dragged on. the two of you continued chatting and the subject eventually changed to the upcoming midsummer fair.

“so, who are you taking to the fair? it’s become more of a ‘couple’ thing in recent years.” jungkook’s tone was breezy and casual, but you nearly choked on your water.

you tried to compose yourself, breathing as deeply as you could without making it obvious. “oh, really?”

this was your time to confess. the idea made you nauseous, as if you were a school girl. you took a breath.

“yeah. you know. . .” jungkook trailed off, in thought. “taehyung seems to have taken a liking to you. you should ask him!”

did he just say taehyung? a plastic smile stretched across your lips, as you took a second to take it in. the enthusiasm on jungkook’s features confused you in a way you had never been confused before. you were reading everything wrong. the small touches, the big gestures. you couldn’t believe everything was all in your head.

“look, taehyung and i have gotten close since he moved to town. i’ll help you out,” jungkook declared. “you’re gonna need it, ugly.”

“shut up!” you chuckled through your teeth, neither agreeing or arguing with him. you were still in a state of surprise.

by the time the two of you began eating, it was just a few other patrons left in the saloon. a quiet thursday night, but your mind was screaming with just about a hundred different things and you could only smile and nod at jungkook, who was explaining taehyung’s ideal type. when jungkook got up to use the bathroom, you caught namjoon and hoseok’s eyes from the bar.

when the former gave you a thumbs up, you could only respond with the most aggressive thumbs down possible.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

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watermelonlovershigh · 2 years ago

Text

Harry's All Natural Sleep Aid 👅🐱 /blurb/ (SMUT)

AN: i know i have like 5 promised things that are suppose to be coming out but i couldn't get this concept off my mind and had to write it out. so i hope you don't mind and enjoy. it feels like forever since i've wrote and it feels good getting back into it.

This story contains: insomnia, female receiving oral sex in a living room

{ dadrry - husbandrry - softrry - current harry era - three kids (unnamed and unaged) }

word count- 1,124

Harry performs his all natural sleep aid to help you get sleepy after a bout of your insomnia.

Around three in the morning you woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. So instead of tossing and turning and potentially waking up your husband Harry, you decided to go down stairs and have yourself a cup of tea while watching old Friends reruns.

Not even twenty minutes of you relaxing on the couch do you hear the heavy pattering of feet coming down the stairs. Instantly you know it's Harry and not one your children because Harry has always had a heavy walk. He makes his way to the couch with a grumpy expression and crossed arms. "Where'd you go?"

Giggling at your man child who can't go thirty minutes without you attached to his hip, especially while sleeping because Harry is a massive cuddler, you reply, "Couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you."

Now the grumpy expression turns to more of a sympathetic one. Harry knows you have trouble sleeping sometimes and he always feels bad because once he's asleep, he can stay asleep unless one of the following three things happen:

You get out of bed and he no longer has his cuddle partner, he gets a boner that just won't go down, or you or one of his three kids call out for him. Whether that's because one of y'all are sick, scared, or just need him in general.

"M'sorry, love." Harry coos softly, now beside you on the couch, leaning his head on your shoulder. "I could help you get sleepy again if you'd let me." He knows the easiest and most effective way for you to become sleepy. It works every time and it's all natural because he knows how you feel about taking sleep medicines, you dislike them.

Leaning your head into your husbands that's snuggled into your shoulder, you ask, "Oh yeah, how?" Before he responds verbally, Harry slides off the couch and onto the living room floor.

He gets situated on his knees in front of you and replies seriously, "Make you come, with m'mouth."

"Harry," you gasp at his naughty words. It's not that you're not use to him being so direct but it's usually done in the bedroom. Not in the living room where your kids could wake up and come down freely. There's no door with a lock down here. "What about the kids? They could come down here."

"What," Harry bites back, "you know damn well every time I give you an orgasm you get sleepy afterwards. It's just a fact. So pleaseee, can I eat your pussy? I'll be quick and then we can go back to cuddle in bed. And the kids are asleep. I just checked in on them before coming down here. Just gotta stay quiet s'all."

Knowing how right your husband is, you shake your head into a nod, then consenting with a verbal, "Okay, but you better hurry and get me off."

"Yes, ma'am!" Wasting no time, Harry pulls the blanket off your lap and pulls down your pajama shorts and cotton panties. He slides your bum to the edge of the couch cushion and leans forward, placing a delicate kiss directly on your little clit.

Just the soft touch of his lips to your most sensitive area has you nearly jumping out your seated position. "Oh, fuck!" you gasp out. Harry looks up with a pleased grin on his face but knowing that what he's about to do is going to be so much better than a clit kiss.

Leaning in more, Harry takes his tongue and begins to properly eat you out. He flicks his warm tongue up and down, side to side, on your clitoris, stimulating you quite nicely. His large hands are wrapped around your thighs that's laying over his bare shoulders. You have to grab one of the decorative pillows you keep on the sofa to press over your face so your heavy breaths and moans stay at bay.

Harry alternates between licking and sucking on your clit. He even pokes his tongue in your hole just to tease you. When you feel the knot in your stomach began to tighten and your legs begin to shake, you quietly warn out, "Babe, I'm gonna come. Shit, feels so fuckin' good."

He works harder in concentrating on getting you to your end. You glance down and grin through your pleasure at the sight of your husband on his knees, eyes closed shut, in the middle of the living room, eating you out in the middle of the night, with Friends still playing on the large tv in front of you. What more could you ask for.

Right as your orgasm courses through you, you reach down and grab a handful of Harry's messy curls, pushing him impossibly closer to your cunt. His face is dripping in your juices and you're sure you're leaving a wet patch on the couch beneath you. Biting your tongue, you let an internal moan go through you while breathing heavy through your nose.

When Harry can feel you pushing his mouth away due to sensitivity, he slowly backs away from your pussy. You look down again while trying to control your breathing and see just how glossy his lips and chin are. The sight alone nearly makes you want to go for a round two. But all the sudden your eyes get a wave of tiredness in them and you start to feel the effects Harry mentioned earlier.

Speaking in a gentle manner, Harry says, "Okay, time for bed. Hand me a tissue from beside you so I can clean us up. Then I'll carry you to bed, baby. Know your legs probably feel all wobbly, don't they."

Not having the energy to speak, you nod your head and grab the tissue from the tissue box you keep by the couch for him to clean you and his face up with. After wiping his mouth off, he carefully and attentively wipes up the mess between your legs. Then Harry helps pull your underwear and shorts back on you before standing up on cracking knees.

At least the living room is carpeted but still, Harry's joints aren't in the shape they were when he was twenty. Sitting on his knees for more then five minutes make them quite sore. But he choose to ignore the pain because he's just that selfless.

After standing up, Harry switches the tv off and then scoops you up bridal style in his arms to carry you back to bed. But before making it to the staircase, you lean forward with your arms around his neck, puckering your lips asking for a kiss and of course Harry leans in to meet your lips as well. The kiss is soft and gentle and shows just how sleepy you both are now. "Love you." you whisper against his mouth.

Replying back softly, Harry mutters, "I love you too."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithharry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @theroosterswife24 // @justlemmeholdyou // @stylesmygucci // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #dadrry #dilfrry #dad!harry #dilf!harry #husbandrry #husband!harry #softrry #soft!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #harry x reader #harry styles blurb #blurb

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qqueenofhades · 11 months ago

Note

I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering this, but my mind is spiraling out of control and you’re the only person I know with the level of knowledge to where I can feel comfortable asking this without getting some form of “bla bla we live in a safe state don’t worry.”

I’m sincerely wondering if I need to be making plans to leave the country in the event of November bringing the most horrible of outcomes despite our best efforts (and yes I’m planning to vote blue in everything I can); as a AFAB in CA?

I know about project 2025. I’m terrified. Forgive my pop culture reference, but I feel like a version of Princess Zelda staring down a barrel of possible doom while everyone around me is like “nah that future you literally had a nightmare about where they made it illegal for a woman to have a bank account without a guy co-signing it and took the money from everyone who didn’t comply by a certain date isn’t even a possibility!”

I’m just confused about my life and am trying to take it day by day, and exercising every right while I still have it to prevent this outcome, but it feels weird making plans and retirement accounts and just general Setting Up Adult Life And Future Things™️……while wondering if I even have a future in this place at all and I’m just making it harder to escape if need be.

I’m sorry I’m rambling, and I guess I don’t know what I’m asking since no one has a crystal ball.

But I guess, it’s stuff like how much can the feds effect state’s policies? Is it possible for them to immediately block international travel for all women practically upon inauguration? How much time would I even have to gtfo if the worst begins?

Bc honestly this whole thing feels like the lead in to a very nasty chapter of a history book, and even though I have hope we’ll have another blue tsunami, it can be hard to try and figure things out when it feels like there’s barely any historical precedent for any of it.

Welp. Okay. First of all, I am giving you a comforting hug, I am walking with you to your favorite coffee shop, I am paying for your favorite beverage and also a baked goodie of your choice, and we are sitting down in a corner where we can talk honestly. So that's where I want you to imagine us having this conversation.

To start with, yes, I completely understand this feeling of utter, paralyzing doom, where I am trying to go about my daily life and make plans for my career and carry out daily tasks and Be Responsible while there's still just this total void beyond the end of the year, the utter impossibility of knowing if we will have dodged an absolutely massive bullet and finally be safe (since if Trump loses again he is 100% going to jail in the next four years) or, well. You know. That is a very hard way to live, when you're wondering if anything is going to matter and you can't see beyond that black cloud of fear on the horizon. It sucks you down and tells you that nothing is worth doing now in case it just gets so much worse. I am not going to tell you not to feel that. We all do. We are all scared. That in and of itself is a perfectly normal way to feel.

However, there are things you can do both now and if (I repeat, if) God absolutely forbid, the worst was to happen (again). First of all, we have already lived through a Trump presidency once. It was terrible and scary and awful and demoralizing as fuck, but we can do it again if we absolutely Goddamn fucking have to (once, again, God forbid). Second, you are currently about as safe as you could be in California. Newsom has proven himself to be smart, tough, able to run rings around Republicans, and unwilling to comply with their stupid performative-cruelty directives. He's not a saint or a magician, but you don't need that; you need a shrewd politician able to fight back, and he has proven himself willing and capable of doing that. So as long as he is governor, you're going to be more safe than not, and I'd also like to ask all the shrieking Online Leftists if, should the shit go down, they would rather live in a state with a Democratic governor who will fight Trump 2.0 every step of the way, or a Republican governor who will just roll over and obey. (But that would destroy their BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME talking point, so you know.)

Next of all, even if the Republicans are doing their best impression, America in 2024 isn't Germany in 1934. There are different tools, different ways to fight back, and different awarenesses/social media/visibility factors. I also need everyone to remember that just as Biden can't just sign an executive order and fix everything everywhere, Trump can't just sign an executive order and fuck everything everywhere, just like that with no more discussion ever. He tried that last time, it generally didn't work, and trust me, at least this time nobody is sleeping on the danger he poses. His candidacy in 2016 was dismissed as a long-shot joke that nobody took seriously until it was too late, and for better or worse, people aren't doing that this time. He will be sued instantly, incredibly, and repeatedly with everything his band of wannabe fascists try, and since we have had four years of Biden fixing the courts from where Trump trashed them, that does mean something. There is no scenario where even if he does issue some outrageous order against women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, etc (which to be clear, I'm sure he would try) it would just be carried out completely, immediately, and with no feasible way to stop it. Evil is evil, but it is also stupid, clueless, determined to hurt people just for the hell of it without any regard for what is possible or which will be allowed, and there's a lot more grey area in there than just "Trump says something terrible and it's instantly done, the end."

Once again, I'm not going to say that the worst-case scenario is not possible, but I don't think it's likely, and even if that does happen, there are ways for us to survive and fight back (again). Nobody wants it and it should not have to be asked of us due to the utter collapse of the social, civic, political, and intellectual fabric of this country thanks to the TrumpCult, but once again... these people are so loud and dangerous and cruel and stupid because they are in the minority. Etc. etc. polls are garbage, but we did just have an interesting piece of empirical data from the Iowa caucuses. Trump -- in one of the whitest, most rural, most conservative, most religious, most Trump-loving states in the country -- struggled to break 50%. Almost half of a rabid Republican fully-Trumpized electorate, among the diehards sufficiently motivated to get out and caucus in extreme freezing weather, voted for someone else (Haley and DeSantis took about 20% apiece). Now, no, we don't know how that will translate to the general election, and if registered Republicans will flock back to the nominee even if it's Trump, but as almost half of Haley voters said they would vote for Biden if it was a Biden-Trump matchup in the general, there is some sense that Trump is an aberration to their otherwise ironclad party loyalty. Now, Republicans are the fucking worst and nobody should be relying on them to save us; we still need to get out and vote for Democrats with all our might. But Trump is no longer barn-burningly popular even in core Trump heartland, and it'll be interesting to see how things go in future primaries.

My point is: I know the feeling that evil is awful and unstoppable and all-powerful, and will crush our lives and our futures no matter what we do to resist it. I really, really do. But Trump is a terrible candidate, he's running literally only to keep himself out of a long, long prison sentence, and if he had crushed the Iowa caucuses regardless, we might be having a different conversation. However, we need to remember that it is possible, again (God forbid) in the worst scenario, to resist, to live, and to win. Everyone who is motivated to work for a better world will still be here. Everyone who can help you and all of us will still be here. And there are more of us than there are of them. Yes, I do understand the feeling that we need to have contingency plans in place, I do absolutely know that it could get very bad, and all that (as you say, nobody has a crystal ball). But for now, I want you to take a deep breath, try to take this day by day, and remember that this is not a crushing and inevitable future that will sweep over you and destroy you without you (or any other person of good will) having a say in the matter. You still have agency, you still have the ability to protect yourself, and you still have others who will protect you in turn. You're not alone. The bad guys want you to think that, because when you're isolated and terrorized, you're easier to pick off and/or recruit into their cult. But you're not.

In conclusion: "What are we holding onto, Sam?"

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #hang in there!

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homelanderbutbig · 1 year ago

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A Big Little Baby In Your Lap (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1575 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander is sulking because he wants head scratches but your couch is too small for him.

You and Homelander have been dating for a few months, relishing in the moments you are able to spend together following him around as his 'personal assistant'. But this meager quality time wasn't enough for him, and next thing you knew you were getting your own private office. Not so much because you needed one, but so the two of you could spend more time alone, away from the spying eyes at Vought.

Your office is nothing special, but it's spacious enough for a desk to work from, and for a couch that Homelander was adamant on you having. Although one would assume that it's for meetings with your 'boss', it's really just so he can cuddle with you whenever he wants. But currently you only have a regular human-sized couch; Ashley had to order a custom one built for his size, which is taking time to complete.

One day while you are typing away on your laptop, your door flies open as Homelander storms into your office. He makes sure to lock the door behind him before he starts pacing angrily in front of your desk.

"I work with the most incompetent bunch of fuckwits imaginable," he snarls, gesturing wildly at nobody in particular. He has been working himself up into a state, and he needs to tell someone about it. "It's like they don't even think of how their fuck-ups effect me. My ratings. MY image."

Realizing you aren't going to be getting any more work done at the moment, you sigh and close your laptop. You keep your eyes on him as you stand up out of your chair, walking over to lean on the front of your desk. It's not really worth interrupting him when he's in the middle of a rant, even if you have no idea who he's talking about. You'd rather let him get it all out of his system.

During his tirade he happens to look over at your couch. Homelander finally stops his pacing as he lets out an aggravated breath, nearly sounding like a growl. He came into your office so you could snuggle with him and soothe his worries, expecting that Ashley would've gotten off her ass to ensure the new couch would have been built by now. Instead, he is again let down by everyone he puts an ounce of faith in.

"A-and they still haven't finished the fucking couch?!" he scoffs, all of this disappointment is starting to be too much for him to handle. His eyes twitch uncontrollably even when he squeezes them shut, while his breathing becoming more ragged. "I-I'm going to kill Ashley. I-I-I'm going to f-fucking KILL her."

"Hey, hey, hey," you say, coming closer to him to press your hands onto his thighs. His stuttering is a dead giveaway that he is overwhelmed, and it's your cue to step in. "It's okay honey," you console him, putting more pressure on his legs to redirect his focus back onto you. "Give me your hands."

Not wanting to lose control of himself in front of you, Homelander does his best to rein in his temper like you taught him with deep breaths through his nose. He brings his hands down for you to hold, feeling himself relax slightly once your precious fingers entwine with his own.

"Why don't you come lie down with me?" you ask, guiding him to walk over to the couch with you. Although he very easily could, he does nothing to fight against your gentle directions. "It looks like you need a break right now."

"I won't… I won't fit," he grumbles, staring down but avoiding eye contact with you.

"We'll make it work. Trust me," you reassure him, letting go of his hands to take your place at the end of the couch. He watches uneasily as you pat the cushion next to you, encouraging him to lie down.

Tensing his jaw, Homelander swallows hard from his building anxiety. Hesitantly, he steps over to the couch and tries to position himself so he can rest his head on your lap. However, he can't get comfortable on this tiny piece of furniture. His shoulders are scrunched up because they are too wide for the cushion, leaving him awkwardly holding his arms up to his chest. His legs are too long so his knees are bent overtop of the armrest, letting his feet touch the floor.

"Th-this isn't working!" he grumbles frustratedly, stumbling through his words. He can feel himself getting riled up again; nothing ever works out right for him. "I-I…I-I'm too big."

"Shhhh, shhhhh," you hush as you start petting Homelander's hair, which is surprisingly soft despite the product he uses. "Everything's alright sweetheart."

He calms almost instantly from your delicate contact, but you can sense he is still holding onto some stress, like there is something else that he is after. Something he's trying to be discreet about, but unfortunately for him, you can read him like a book.

"I think a certain supe is hoping for something," you sing playfully, using your index finger to follow along the contour of his ear. Chills run down his spine from your tantalizing touch; even though he hates how easily you can figure him out, he wouldn't trade this unspoken connection with you for anything in the world.

You chuckle when Homelander fixes his gaze on you, failing to hide the anticipation bleeding through his body language. His eyes are glued wide open, his lips are trembling… he is wringing his hands together and bouncing one of his legs off the ground.

"I don't knooow…" you tease, using your index finger to lightly scratch behind his ear. He whines at your bewitching tactility, quickly losing what little composure he was holding onto.

"Ple… p-please," he begs, looking like he is about to cry as he rubs his head pathetically into your chest. You know you shouldn't be so cruel to him when he's this vulnerable with you, but sometimes you can't help yourself. He's just so cute when he's like this, a big little baby in your lap.

Gracefully, you use your nails to glide along Homelander's undercut, redirecting ever so often to scratch the sweet spots on his scalp that you know he loves. He quickly unravels from your touch, whimpering and moaning at your god-given expertise. He closes his eyes while your intimate caresses take over all of his senses, becoming his sole reason for existing.

"Mmmmm…" he purrs, leaning his head further into your upper body. You can feel yourself vibrating from the low rumblings coming from him. Every little noise he makes resonates straight through to your core, enhanced even moreso by him burying his face as close into you as possible.

Homelander finally repositions his arms from his chest, letting one drop audibly to the ground while the other lifts up to grip the back of the couch. At first he tries to keep his strength in check, but you seem keen on making him fall apart at the seams with each drag of your fingers. Slowly but surely, you hear the all too familiar sound of the couch's wooden frame splitting under his hand as he becomes consumed by your affection. He's lucky that you're getting a new couch anyways, otherwise he'd be getting quite a scolding for wrecking your office furniture.

As much as you'd like to do this for him longer, you notice on your wall clock how much time has passed since he first barged into your office. He has an interview scheduled in a half an hour, and as his personal assistant, you need him to be ready and on-time.

Gingerly, you stop your scratches to give Homelander a light tap on his temples. He slowly opens his eyes to look up at you, entirely glazed over from how docile you've made him.

"See? I told you we'd make it work," you remark, planting a kiss on his forehead.

With a faint hum of acknowledgement, he gives you a soft smile in thanks before nuzzling his head back into you. All he really wants now is to rest, listening to your heart rhythmically beating a steadfast melody just for his ears.

"But we both have to get going soon, sweetie," you comment, rolling your eyes. You tap his head again to indicate you haven't quite made your point yet. "We have to be on the set of the Cameron Coleman Hour in thirty minutes."

That jolts Homelander out of his contentment pretty fast. You can see how upset he is to hear that your cuddle session has come to an end, but he isn't one to neglect his schedule. Instead, he decides to conclude your 'meeting' by returning the love you've given him.

Before you can react, he envelops you in his arms and stands back up to his full height. You laugh as he peppers your face with kisses; your nose, cheeks, ears, forehead… he makes sure no part is left unloved. He concludes his appreciation with a heartfelt kiss on your lips, taking in your warmth just as you melt into his. You always make him feel so loved, and he can never put into words how happy it makes him to see you have the same reaction… like you really understand him.

After his interview with Cameron Coleman, Homelander makes sure Ashley gets that new couch in your office the next day.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing

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astroboots · 1 year ago

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*oliver twists voice*

“Please sir may I please have some more?”

hamster steven 🥺 my little sister asks for updates all the time lol

Series Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

A/N: omg nonny! this is the world's most effective way to make me write more Hamsteven content! How could I ever deny your little sister... and a Charles Dickens reference?!?!? Aye aye!

Summary: You try to create a special meal for Hamster Steven so he can regain some normalcy.

You will be the first one to admit that you spend way too much time on tiktok. It's a slippery slope, and ever since you looked up tutorials on hamster care tips, your FYP seems to have picked up on the trail and now every two videos you flick through is hamster related.

Hamsters in tiny teddybear hats. Hamsters put in elaborate escape labyrinths, Crystal Maze style. Hamsters being treated to miniature meals inspired by human meals.

The internet is a wild place.

There's a squeaky noise next to you on the pillow that interrupts you just as you are about to scroll onto the next video.

You peer up from your screen, to see the big shiny eyes of your boyfriend-turned-hamster, standing on his hind-legs, as he's staring back at you. You're not sure if it's just your imagination, but he doesn't look happy. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was giving you the stinkeye you for spending so much time on tiktok.

You glance up at the clock on the corner of your phone. 00:51.

Okay, maybe it's not just your imagination. You've somehow unwittingly spent more than two hours on your phone, without paying attention. Steven is definitely judging you for that.

"Sorry, Steven. I must've lost track of time," you tell him, and at your apology he lowers himself back on all four paws, waddling over to your chest and curls himself up on the curve of your breast.

It's become his favorite spot to rest... certain things don't change regardless of what form he takes.

You run two fingers over his head, stroking the soft fur and he seems to melt at the touch, the round shape of him going flat with relaxation. It's adorable. Steven has always been fond of having his hair stroked like a particularly cuddly pet.

It really does seem like certain things haven't changed much at all despite his transformation into a hamster.

... Except, that's not really true though is it.

In the past few days since Steven has turned into a pet, his limitations has been more than apparent. Because of his tiny size, he's in constant danger.

You had left the window open to air out the flat while you were cleaning, only to have a particularly menacing seagull make a dive for him and had to chase it out with a flyswatter so it wouldn't devour your boyfriend whole.

In his current form he's not quite able to do any of the activities that he normally enjoys, reading is out of the question, even if he could turn his own pages (which is difficult when you do not have opposing thumbs or no grip) you're not sure what his vision must be like, the letters must read gigantic to him.

He doesn't seem to particularly enjoy the yoghurt drops you got him from the pet store, and the enthusiasm he had at first for the almonds and walnuts you'd given him seems to be waning and on more than one occasion you've caught the wistful and longing gaze Steven has had on his expression when you sit down for a meal by the table that he couldn't partake.

But ramen doesn't really seem fit for a hamster's diet, so you could hardly give him a taste.

Poor Steven has had little to no normalcy left since his transformation and as the days go by and the solution to his dilemma isn't anywhere near in sight, you feel a pang of sadness for him.

Absentmindedly, you continue to pet his fur as you pull up your phone again and scroll through the videos when your eyes linger over the video you saw earlier of a hamster being treated to miniature spaghetti meal.

The video has a full on painstakingly detailed tutorial, step by step, on how to make the tiny meal. Cutting regular sized spaghetti into tiny lengths, Sizzling small portions of minced meat on the frying pan and huh... who knew that hamster are actually omnivores, and likes eating meat... you always assumed they were vegetarians. In the video, the person takes two cherry tomatoes puts them through the blender for the sauce and it all looks rather simple.

You look down at Steven in his hamster form, sound asleep on your chest. He's curled up into a little ball, his nose and whiskers twitching in his sleep as his hind leg kicks back in response to whatever dream he's dreaming.

Adorable as he is, the pang of sadness from before returns as your chest constricts. You want to give him a sense of normalcy after everything he's been through. However small.

Carefully, you scoop him up in the cup of your hands and place him gently on the pillow. Luckily Steven is a sound sleeper and sleeps right through it as you move into the kitchen to prepare the meal according to the video instructions.

There's leftover spaghetti in the fridge, saving you from having to boil it fresh. You forego frying any meat, because even though hamsters may be omnivores, your Hamster Steven is a full blooded vegan.

You also decide to forego the blender. It's late and you don't want to wake up Steven so instead you end up trying to smash up the cherry tomatoes with a mortal and pestle that leaves an absolute mess.

With your sad attempts at a culinary effort completed, you pick up the tiniest little sauce bowl you can find in the cupboard, as you start to plate up the spaghetti and mashed tomato sauce, topping it off with fresh basil that you had luckily picked up from Sainsbury the other day.

It looks nowhere as good as the video, just looks like wilted spaghetti with a tiny pile of crushed tomatoes rather than a miniature version of spaghetti bolognese. but you guess that's why you're an office worker and not a hamster content creator. You try to tease the spaghetti back into place with your fingers until it looks a bit more decent.

Better.

But it's still a long way to go from the special dinner that you had wanted to make for Steven to make him feel pampered.

Turning to the kitchen drawers, you try to find the small tea candles to set the mood. It's as near a romantic ambient as you are able to create for Steven.

Then you find one of the nicer dinner napkins stowed away in the back of the drawer and set the table. While you're at it you grab several sprigs of rosemary and whatever fresh herbs you're able to find in the fridge and set them in a shot glass that you use as an impromptu mini vase, for the bouquet of herbs you have gathered. You place down your creation in the middle of the table, then you stand back admiring your work.

Not too shabby.

Almost looks like a tiny hamster restaurant.

You return to your bed, where you had left Steven to sleep. Paws still twitching peacefully in his sleep when you gently wake him by picking him up, and set him on the table.

He blinks slowly and blearily, sleep still clouding his gaze, not fully taking in what you are trying to show him. It takes a few moments, until his eyes clear and then they go wide at the meal in front of him and he darts forward like a sprint.

His little paws grabs at the straw of spaghetti voraciously, as he slurps up the spaghetti, flecks of red sauce painting the fur around his mouth. He eats it with an enthusiastic frenzy, gobbling up the whole of it and drops it in his excitement only to round the plate and pick it up again to eat the remainder.

"Is it good?"

His head pops up to meet your face, with the tiniest of nods.

He squeaks happily, then he dives right back into stuffing his face and you can't help but smile.

It's a little moment of normalcy even in this craziness and that's good enough for now.

Dedications & Credits: To my lovely @guruan / @guruan-is-not-here who has finally been freed from tumblr jail. This chapter is dedicated to her because she sent me the cutest video of a hamster having a tiny bowl of pasta and sitting on a chair like it was a restaurant.

#🐹 hamsteven #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marvel mcu #oscar isaac

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zeroducks-2 · 6 months ago

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Sometimes I think about Thawne admitting he has done some heinous stuff to Barry that Barry doesn't even know and I'm like ok did you fuck him? Did you stick your dick in this poor sod at some point and Barry doesn't even realize it cause Thawne's faster than him and his fast healing is making him think his body ache feels good? Thawne was saying shit about turning back time to adopt Barry and groom him like he got my head running shamelessly saying his kink to his crush's face like that hmmm

Okay I KNOW this ask is not serious but I have the chance to talk about my beautiful little meow meow and I will take it, so I will split my answer in two, the unserious answer and the serious answer.

The unserious answer is that I love it about Eobard that he's so open about what he likes. He went (paraphrased) "Hey did you know I was in love with your uncle :D" at Wally one time, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him. He used to write in his diary about how alone he was and how just thinking about Barry made him feel better. Gayass nerd dweeb he had a crush on Barry since he was a damn child. We could just go on and assume he did stick his dick in there (maybe when Barry hadn't still been hit by lightning), because at this point I wouldn't be surprised (I do believe he used to touch and hold Barry at superspeed back then but that's just me we don't really have canon confirmation of this YET! YET!!! ahem.)

The serious answer is that he's just playing. Eobard is good at saying things that will rile people up, but it doesn't always work on Barry (because Barry knows him), and so he will say a bunch of shit in the attempt to get a reaction. When he says that he did unspekable things that make killing Nora pale in comparison, when he says that he's going to kill Iris (or any other "flashfamily" member), when he says that he'll go back in time and do this and that, adopt Barry (I really fucking loved that one btw), whatever, he's just provoking. He's trying to make Barry mad basically.

I'm saying this because he does not do any of what he says even if he could, at any given time. He can move through time easily, and he does it constantly. He says himself in Finish Line that this is not his first rodeo in this timeline, and we have the confirmation that during the events of Lightning Strikes Twice there are two Eobards around.

Look at this:

This is the beginning of Lightning Strikes Twice. As you can see Eobard is there spying on people, but the thing is that we also know FOR SURE that he is currently locked up in a cell, looking like this:

(the person speaking is August btw)

So yeah, he's in two places at the same time, running around and watching things unfold, and also tied up to that freaky bondage contraption from which Barry will break him out lol.

Also it's worth noting that he's so fast he runs laps around Wally and can go entirely unseen by him, and Wally calls himself the fastest man who ever lived. His powers make it so he can come in and out of the timestream and run through it without any kind of external aid - he does it while being "trapped" in Paradox' dimension, and is precise enough when he interacts with the timestream to not cause any kind of ripple effect (like again when he saved Chris in Flash Age).

If he wanted to hurt Barry like he says he does, he could. If he actually wanted to do any of the shit he brags about he'd just do it without threatening Barry about it. He's just playing, trying to get a reaction out of his crush, and sometimes it works! Sometimes Barry actually gets worked up. But in fairness, most of the time Barry's reaction is 😒🙄 because all of what I just said, Barry knows too lol.

(indeed Barry is also very scared that Eobard might actually hurt the people he loves, because he knows that Eo could and is aware of how easily he would do it. Not many people can defend from a speedster especially if they don't know he's coming. And no one can defend against this yellow menace of a banana man altering the timeline however the fuck he prefers. Luckily for everyone involved, he's not interested in altering the timeline any more than he already did, at least for now)

#I can't talk at length about the whole 'I´ll go back in time and raise you' kinky thing bc you know. puritumblr.#BUT YEAH THAT SOUNDED REALLY BADWRONG EOBARD WTF #WAY TO MAKE EVERYTHING WEIRDER #my asks #my meta #eobard thawne #barry allen #eobarry

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scary-grace · 7 months ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 8) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 8

“I can’t believe this is happening,” the high school student at the front desk says for the millionth time. “He must be so scared.”

“That kid? No way. He’s probably killed half the League already.” One of the nurses scoffs. “He’ll be fine. The heroes will handle this and put an end to that mess before you know it.”

You’ve been hearing versions of this conversation for the last three days, and you were bored of them on day one. It’s an effort not to roll your eyes. “But he got kidnapped,” the high schooler says again. “He probably doesn’t even know what happened to his friends, if they’re okay –”

“The other students are okay,” you say. “I heard two of them are still unconscious, but they think they’ll be fine. Their lungs were just more sensitive to the gas than the others’ were.”

“Was it really mustard gas?” the high schooler asks, and you shake your head. “How do you know?”

“A friend of mine,” you say. You’re not talking about Tenko. “He’s helping the heroes gather intel. He says it’s more like Midnight’s sleeping gas, but with a cumulative exposure effect.”

“The news said that kid was in high school,” a passing doctor says. “What are we doing wrong that kids in high school are turning to villainy?”

“It’s a problem with the villain, not with us.”

You can’t hold in the derisive sound you make, and all three of them turn to you. “What is it?” the doctor asks. “You don’t agree?”

“I just think it’s weird for people who see what we see every day to act like every villain is just born bad,” you say. Your colleagues stare at you. “Some of our patients feel trapped. A lot more of them feel helpless, or hopeless. Most of them have had hard lives, and no one’s helped them or saved them. If they feel invisible in their suffering, it’s not hard to imagine why some of those people lash out. Not even to hurt others. Just to be seen.”

You know what it’s like to feel hopeless, to feel invisible. To feel angry and know that your anger doesn’t matter, because you don’t matter in the first place. You turned that feeling inward, but most people aim it out. “People don’t become villains because they’re happy with their lives, or who they are. The way the world works makes a lot of people unhappy.”

“Young people – present company excepted – want everything handed to them,” the doctor says. He gestures at you and the high schooler. “If we had more people like the two of you, it would be a different story. You know how to work hard.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say. You’re not making your point well. You try again. “The villains who currently exist are the heroes’ job. It’s our job as a society to stop new villains from arising. The only way to do that is to make things better for everybody.”

“Of course,” the nurse says tiredly. She’s probably been working at the clinic longer than you and the doctor combined, and longer than the high schooler’s been alive. “When you figure that one out, honey, let me know.”

You’d love to. Really. Lately the difference between what you feel and what you think has been growing, so fast that it’s consuming every thought in its wake. Kazuo might be right from a legal standpoint that not stopping something isn’t the same thing as aiding and abetting it, but that doesn’t change how it feels. The attack on the training camp succeeded. The psychopathic student was kidnapped. Students were hurt. Pro heroes were hurt. One hero is missing. Moonfish, Mustard, and Muscular were all captured. And you knew it was happening ahead of time.

This time, you weren’t powerless to stop Tenko’s plans. You could have contacted UA and warned them that the location of their summer training camp had been compromised, that villains were planning an attack. You could have done it without endangering Tenko – he wouldn’t have even been there, and with Kurogiri’s protocol of warping everyone to and from the hideout, none of the others could have revealed his location if they were captured. You could have stopped this. Part of you wishes you had.

And part of you can’t stop picturing the look on Tenko’s face if he found out you betrayed his trust. The hurt you’d see there in the moments before he sealed it away. He’d probably kill you, and you’d feel so guilty that you’d probably want him to – but it’s not the fear of death that keeps you quiet. It’s the fear of losing him again, by your own fault this time. So you’ll take the guilt over the attack on UA’s training camp, the kidnapped student, the missing hero. You’d rather feel sick over that than hollowed out by losing your best friend.

You’re on the night shift, but it’s slow tonight, and when the high schooler turns on the TV in the waiting room, you don’t stop her. UA is having a press conference, with the principal and the two teachers who were there at the training camp apologizing for allowing the students to be put at risk again. You shouldn’t feel guilty, but you do, and you almost ask the high schooler to turn it off – but then the hero whose student was kidnapped starts defending said student, and you get annoyed. “That’s not what he’s like?” You mimic the hero’s flat, almost-affectless voice, then revert to your own. “Bullshit. That’s exactly what he’s like.”

“Huh?” The high schooler looks at you, surprised – or maybe offended. “That’s his teacher. He knows him better than you do. You’ve never met him.”

“I’ve met dozens of him. I know what they’re like.” You think of your siblings, the twins, the triplets. You think of the people who made your life hell until you made stronger friends. “You know who knows that kid better than his teacher? Everybody that kid has ever picked on. They only show who they really are to people who can’t hit them back.”

The high schooler is staring now. “I’ve never heard you say that much about anything before.”

You step out from behind the desk and head to the lobby for a little cleaning. “I only get one outburst per month. You can tune in next time.” In general, you’re not reactive – growing up, you weren’t allowed to react to anything – but ever since you found Tenko, you’ve found it harder and harder to hold in your frustration with the way things are. Your viewpoint doesn’t align with the League of Villains or with Stain, because you don’t think that dismantling the heroic system would automatically create a better world, but lately you can’t shut up about the things that are wrong.

Employment and housing discrimination against quirkless people and heteromorphs, and the total lack of anti-discrimination laws. The constant threat of violence, triggered so often by heroes pursuing nonviolent criminals, in situations where violence shouldn’t be necessary. The disinterest most ordinary people show in helping anyone, changing anything, because they expect heroes to do it for them. Things people who have power never see or think about. Things you’ve been living with since you were a child.

Seeing the heroic system come tumbling down won’t fix any of that. All it will do is put the privileged on the same level as you are, force them to play by the same rules you’ve had to follow. And some part of you thinks that would be a nice thing to see. After all, you’ve been playing this game your whole life. For once, you’d like to have the advantage.

The UA press conference is just concluding when you feel the first vibration, a low deep hum traveling through the air. A chill goes down your spine, and you look up from cleaning the air conditioning filter in the lobby to the high schooler behind the desk, only to find her already looking at you. The TV switches to breaking news with a blast of trumpets, announcing that All Might and various heroes have teamed up to rescue Bakugou of Class 1-A, but even as they’re announcing the good news, another vibration travels through the air. A moment later, a similar vibration travels through the ground. Somewhere in the distance, you hear a crash – an enormously loud sound, coming from just far enough away to avoid rupturing your eardrums. Not far enough to avoid rupturing anything else.

“Get down!” you shout, diving for cover, and the high schooler drops behind the counter just in time for the windows to blow apart, spraying glass across the lobby.

Now you can hear explosions. Or you could, if your ears weren’t ringing. When you look out the shattered windows, you see a sky that should be cloudy and dark blue turning unearthly purple and orange. As the ringing in your ears dies down, you hear screams, sirens, the whirring of helicopter blades. Something terrible is happening.

You struggle to your knees, then your feet, doing your best to avoid the broken glass. “Are you okay?” you shout to the high schooler. You hear a whimper from behind the desk, and a split second later, the phone starts to ring. “Can you grab that?”

No answer. You stumble through the glass, kicking piles of it aside, and find the high schooler crouched behind the desk, shaking. She doesn’t look hurt. Shell-shocked, sure, but not hurt. You aren’t seeing blood. You grab the phone. “Yokohama Free Clinic South. How can I help you?”

“This is Yokohama PD. Your building has been designated as an evacuation site. Please prepare to receive evacuees from Kamino Ward.”

“Kamino Ward?” You fumble the clinic’s disaster preparedness binder out of the desk and start flipping frantically through it. “Our windows are gone from the shockwave that just came through. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Is the building still standing?” The officer on the other end doesn’t wait for confirmation. “The first evacuees should be arriving within minutes. Once the hospitals are full, the remaining casualties will be directed to you.”

“What? We’re an urgent care, not a mass casualty –” The line goes dead and you stare at it in horror. The rest of the night shift, doctors and nurses and techs, are just emerging from the back of the clinic. You turn to look at them and try to convey the information as quickly and efficiently as possible. “Evacuees from Kamino Ward are coming here. Once the hospitals are full, the casualties will be coming here, too.”

“What’s happening in Kamino Ward?”

“Look.” The high schooler’s voice is almost as shaky as her hand as she points to the TV. You do as she says and everything gets worse in a heartbeat.

Kamino Ward is gone. It’s a smoking crater, ringed by the ruins of buildings, and in the center of it all stand a collection of small figures. Half your thoughts come to a stop on the buildings, on how many people must be trapped in the wreckage. The rest are with the group of people in the crater. Wherever the news feed is coming from, whoever’s filming zooms in until you can see their faces. All Might’s there. So is Tenko’s master. And so is Tenko, him and the rest of the League, everyone who wasn’t captured after the attack on the training camp – alongside the student they kidnapped.

LIVE: All Might fights unknown villain, the scroll at the bottom of the screen says. Kamino Ward leveled. Rescue efforts underway.

Two of your friends live in Kamino Ward. Your mind floods with emotion, the leaks in your defense mechanisms coming from a dozen different sources. Worry for your friends, panic about the evacuees who are about to descend on your clinic and the casualties that are sure to follow, terror that the fight will break from Kamino Ward and come to you. Fear for Tenko, who’s right there in the middle of it all. Shame over the fact that when you realized he was there, your fear for him drowned everything else in a split second.

But you don’t have time for worry or panic or shame or fear, because you can hear voices in the street. People are coming here, looking for shelter, and there’s glass all over the floor of the lobby. “We need to clean this up,” you call out to the others, even as you run for a broom. “We have to hurry.”

Somebody yanks the broom out of your hands and passes it to one of the CNAs. The doctor forces the disaster preparedness binder into your hands instead, only for one of the older nurses to snatch it away. “Put her on triage. We need to keep them calm and we need to move fast.”

You’re good at those two things when the lobby is full. Not when an absurd number of people are being directed your way. You pull the blinds over the glassless windows, hoping it’ll stop people from seeing them as entry points to the building, and prop open the door, stationing yourself just inside it. When you see the crowd coming down the street, led by an overwhelmed-looking police officer and two minor heroes from the area, you take a deep breath and do everything you can to clear your mind.

“Get a list of who’s here,” the nurse who took the disaster preparedness binder hisses in your ear. “Uninjured to the right and left, injured to the front.”

“Got it,” you say. Someone drops a pile of nametags and a permanent marker into your hands. That’ll work. One of the heroes has jogged ahead to meet you, and you square up. “Get everybody in a line. Keep families together. We’ll take care of the rest. How many do you have?”

“A hundred, plus or minus twenty. Some fell behind.”

And those are probably the injured ones. “Go back and pick them up,” you say. “We’ll handle this.”

The hero conveys your instructions to the others, and a line begins to form. You address the first person in line – a grey-haired man, carrying what looks like either a grandchild or a random kid. “Family name, first initial,” you say. Iwamura K, granddaughter Iwamura T. “Injuries?”

None. You peel off the stickers, apply them to each evacuee’s arm, then herd them inside. “Next?”

Your handwriting gets worse and worse with every nametag, but you’re moving fast. You screw up the system you were supposed to implement almost immediately. Uninjured evacuees go to the right side of the lobby. Injured ones go to the left, where the other nurses are waiting to triage them more effectively. All the while the air vibrates with distant blows and you vibrate with it, your mind teetering between focusing on the tasks at hand and worrying about your friends, about Tenko. You’re scared that one of your friends will come through the door on a stretcher. You’re scared that Tenko won’t come back at all.

The phone rings somewhere behind you while you’ve still got dozens of people in line, and a moment later, the high schooler shouts to you. “The teaching hospital’s full and the route to Yokohama General is cut off. They’re directing casualties here.”

Fuck. When you find out who cut off the route to the city’s biggest, most modern hospital, you’re going to break your foot off in their ass. That goes double if the guilty party is Tenko’s master. You start hustling people into the building at top speed, trying to think of which entrance will be best to direct the ambulances to. The rear entrance, probably. Somebody else will have to take care of that. You’ve still got people coming through the door.

The closer to the back of the line you get, the more damage the evacuees are working with. The last few are covered with dust, their clothes torn, their bodies already bruising. You try to ask them what happened, but your words are drowned out by a collective gasp, followed by dead silence from inside the building. The TV is still going, the words tinny and distant, but you hear the first person who speaks up loud and clear. It’s a kid. “Mama, what’s wrong with All Might?”

The noise comes back up immediately, leaving you with no idea what’s happening, no idea if All Might’s been defeated or killed, no idea whether the fight’s shifting, heading this way. You hear ambulance sirens wailing, getting louder with every passing second, and someone yanks your arm. You turn to find one of the medical assistants. “Go to the back. They want you helping with the ambulances.”

You don’t want you helping with the ambulances. You’re good under pressure, but not that kind of pressure. Not the kind where someone will die if you screw it up. You try to reason with yourself as you weave through the lobby and head down the hall, aiming for the back doors. You’re not running point on any of these cases. Your job is to assist the doctors and the nurse-practitioners. They’ll tell you what to do. You just have to do it. It’ll be fine. You think that, and keep thinking it, right up until you put on your mask and gloves and turn around to find yourself facing a patient whose legs have been crushed below the knee.

It’s awful. There’s blood and sinew and tissue everywhere, and sharp fragments of bone emanating from the exposed kneecap. Bitter saliva floods your mouth and your stomach turns, threatening to upend itself, but you grew up with siblings who could make you vomit on their command. You learned to resist them, and this – you clench your jaw and step forward. “How can I help?”

“Pinch off the femoral artery on the left side.” The doctor’s face is pale. The patient is unconscious, must be unconscious, because otherwise you can’t imagine the doctor saying what he says next. “We’re in hell.”

You’re not given to dramatic statements, but as the time wears on, you start to agree with him. You lose track of which patients you’re seeing. It’s all you can do to remember to switch gloves between patients. Your scrubs get sprayed with blood, but you can’t change them. There’s not time. The site commander for whatever’s happening in Kamino Ward sent your clinic twelve patients who should have gone to Yokohama General. You can’t save them. Your job is to keep them alive long enough to transport them to the people who can.

It’s a task you fail once, twice, three times, five times. One of the nurses, someone who worked somewhere else before coming here, tells you that the patients wouldn’t have made it anyway, but it doesn’t help. Even with the EMTs of the ambulances staying to lend a hand, there aren’t enough hands, not enough eyes to spot the signs of someone crashing and not enough mouths to call out a warning. You lose five, stabilize seven. If this goes on much longer, you might lose them all.

News of what’s happening in Kamino Ward trickles back slowly. All Might’s deflated, or decrepit. Skeletal. Disfigured. All Might’s getting an assist from the Number Two hero – Hiro will be thrilled. All Might’s winning. All Might’s won, but the League of Villains has escaped. All of them except their backer – All For One.

All For One. It’s not a villain name you’ve heard before, but you’re pretty sure that’s Tenko’s master. Whoever he is, wherever he came from, he was strong enough to hurt All Might, to nearly kill All Might. If he could do that, what the hell does he need Tenko for? What’s going to happen to Tenko with his backer gone? Where is the League going to go? You’re pretty sure they can’t go back to their hideout – it was where they were planning to take the captured student, and if they and the student wound up in Kamino Ward, something went wrong. Where’s Tenko now?

That’s not your problem right now. Your problem is your patients, and whether or not any of them will still be alive by the time the route to Yokohama General reopens. You throw yourself back into work. Back into hell.

Relief eventually arrives in the form of basically every off-duty staff member – all of them who don’t live in Kamino, that is. You stay in the mix, not wanting to be the first one to call for help. You’re not that tired, anyway. You just got on shift at six. You have a long way to go before –

“It’s seven am. Get out,” your supervisor says, and you stare blankly at her. Seven am? That can’t be right. It was midnight two seconds ago. “This patient’s stable, and the route to Yokohama General is finally open. Transfer them and go home. With all the repairs we’ll have to make, we can’t afford to pay you overtime.”

Transfer, then home. You transfer the patient, who hasn’t been conscious once since they arrived in the clinic with a skull fracture wide enough to see their brain through, to the waiting EMTs, and then you go looking for a change of clothes. There isn’t one. You’ll be wearing this home. You wade through another crowd of people to clock out, then step out onto the street. The trains probably aren’t working, but that’s fine. It’s not that far. You can walk.

The sky is still purple and orange. Clouds of smoke are billowing up from whatever happened in Kamino Ward, and you can smell it, along with gasoline and ozone and who knows how many other acrid stenches. You check your phone as you walk and find frantic messages from your friends, everyone trying to confirm that everyone else is alive. You tap out a message confirming that you were at work and you’re fine. Then you put your phone away and trudge the rest of the way home.

After the noise of the clinic, unabated for hours upon hours, your apartment building is weirdly quiet. At this time of day people should be up, getting ready for work, getting their kids ready for school, but instead it feels like time’s stopped. Maybe they left. Maybe they’re in an evacuation shelter somewhere. You don’t know. You unlock the door to your apartment and step inside – and freeze.

Your apartment should be empty. It isn’t. Your apartment is full of people, and you’ve met them all at least once before – Spinner, Dabi, Magne, Compress, Twice, Toga. Kurogiri. Tenko. No, Tomura. They’re all staring at you, just like you’re staring at them.

Toga’s the first one to speak. “So that’s what you look like,” she says, smiling. “I knew you were cute!”

“Don’t scream,” Tomura says. You shut your mouth and shake your head. He looks you up and down, frowning. “Whose blood is that?”

“At work. I was at work. We got some of the casualties from – from Kamino –” You’re stammering. You’re making approximately zero sense. There’s only one question that matters. “What are you doing here?”

Nobody answers you. Dabi’s mouth contorts into a sneer. “No wonder you wouldn’t show your face before. You’re a fucking civilian.”

“Yeah, she’s a civilian. That’s why her place is safe to stay at,” Tomura snaps at him. He turns back to you, the frown still present behind the hand. “Is all that blood somebody else’s?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine. You feel numb, but your heart is racing so fast that you’re worried you might faint. “Did anybody see you? Or hear you?”

“Kurogiri delivered us right to your living room,” Compress says. “We’ve been quiet. Most of us.”

He’s aiming a dirty look at Magne, who glares back. “It hurts,” she snaps. “If somebody stabbed you in the chest –”

Your stomach lurches. “Stabbed?”

“I hit my face on that giant hero’s face. Do you hear me complaining?”

“You were stabbed?” You step around Tomura and cross the room to where Magne’s sprawled in one of your armchairs. “How long ago? Is it still bleeding?”

“Not with a knife,” Magne says. With what, then? “Boss’s daddy forcibly activated my quirk with his hideous little tentacles.”

There’s nothing about that sentence that you don’t hate. “The same thing happened to Kurogiri,” Spinner adds. He’s leaning against the wall. Grimacing. “A hero messed with him first, though.”

The answer to the question of why they’re here finally clicks in your overworked, exhausted brain. You’re the team medic, and they’ve all been hurt. They need you to do the same thing you’ve been doing all night, when all you want to do is peel off your bloody clothes and go to sleep. Instead, you need to triage. “Okay, who took an injury that knocked them out?”

Hands go up – Magne, Dabi, Kurogiri. Compress might have a facial fracture, based on the way his mask is askew. Spinner’s ribs hurt, but he never lost consciousness, and he’s not bleeding from anywhere. Twice, Toga, and Tomura are all beaten up but otherwise fine. You point them in the direction of the freezer so they can put together some ice packs, then turn your attention to the group who passed out.

Of the three of them, Dabi was unconscious the longest, and his injury was a head injury. He threw up when he regained consciousness, although thankfully not on your floor or your couch. He reports a splitting headache, and when you shine the penlight from your keychain in his eyes, you see that one of his pupils isn’t reacting normally to the light. That’s not a good sign. “Do you remember what happened immediately before the blow to the head?”

“Why do you want to know? So you can make your story sound better for the cops?”

“No, I’m testing your memory. It’s an indicator for the severity of the concussion. Track my finger with your eyes.” You observe his eye movements. It could go either way. “What happened before you were struck?”

“The damn kid turned us down. Who does he think he is?” Dabi scoffs. “Shigaraki told Compress to turn him loose, like a fucking moron, and then the fucking heroes broke through the wall. One of them kicked me and that’s all I remember.”

“Kicked you in the head?”

“That’s right.” Dabi groans. “Fuck off with that light in my face.”

You put the penlight away and think through your options. “I’m going to give you some medicine. Over-the-counter NSAIDs –”

“What?”

“Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs,” Tomura says. You glance at him, surprised, and find him smiling slightly from behind the hand. “Acetaminophen or ibuprofen. They’re over the counter. You can get them without a prescription.”

“I know what over the counter means,” Dabi snaps. “I didn’t ask you. I asked the medic. Do you have some?”

“Yeah. Acetaminophen’s best for this. The bottles are opened, but I’m going to go get them – Twice, will you come with me and watch me get them?” you ask. Twice looks startled. “You can watch me and tell Dabi that I’m not tampering with the pills at all.”

“I’m not that fucking paranoid,” Dabi says. But he doesn’t tell Twice not to follow you.

You’ve been wondering if Twice remembers you. So far it seems like he doesn’t, but something jogs his memory as you come back with the bottles. “I knew I’d seen you before,” he announces loudly, and you shush him alongside Compress, Toga, and Tomura. “You stitched up my mask!”

“Did the stitches hold okay?” you ask. “I know it was a little rushed.”

“Barely,” Twice says. Then: “They were great! Lasted until Giran hooked me up with a new one.”

“You’ve met her before?” Compress asks, suspicious.

“Sure thing. If she’d showed her face, I could have backed up the boss and said she was all right!” Twice sounds cheerful. He slaps you on the back and you nearly spill acetaminophen tablets all over the floor. “Nicest nurse I ever had. No screaming, no calling the cops. Just stitched my mask and gave me the good drugs and sent me on my way!”

“He got the good drugs?” Tomura says, incredulous. “Why didn’t I get those?”

“You behaved. Sort of.” You need to get into the kitchen, but Toga and Tomura are both there, holding bags of ice to their various scrapes and bruises. “Can one of you fill a glass of water? The cabinet to the right.”

Tomura does it – with warm sink water – and hands it off. You head back to Dabi, drop a double dose of acetaminophen into his hand, and order him to drink the whole glass of water with it. You’ll hit him with the same dose in six hours, if they’re still here in six hours. It won’t do anything good for his liver, but if he’s in too much pain to rest and starts trying to do things, his liver will be the least of his worries. You order him to hold still, eyes closed, and focus on Magne and Kurogiri.

Your friends got you a stethoscope as a gag gift a while back, but the stethoscope is real, and you know how to use it. You listen for any irregularities in Magne’s breathing and heartbeat, then tell her to go into the bathroom and check for bruising on her torso – at which point she whips off her shirt. “Check for yourself.”

“Agh, no!” Spinner twists the other way, but not before you see his scales flushing. “Don’t do that!”

“Or at least give some warning,” Twice says. Then he gives a thumbs-up. “Looking good!”

“Put those away. There are children here,” Compress says.

“It’s okay.” Toga is staring avidly. “I don’t mind.”

“You should. We’re the League of Villains, not the League of Perverts.” Spinner is still facing away. “Are you done yet?”

“Are you done yet?” Magne asks you. You’ve been studying her torso and the series of bruises on it. “Well?”

“Nothing that suggests internal bleeding. You’re good to go.”

She pulls her shirt back on. “I hope you all enjoyed that. I won’t be doing it again.”

“Don’t,” Spinner says. “Please.”

You commandeer one of the ice bags Toga made and hand it to Magne, then turn your attention to Kurogiri. Kurogiri’s going to present a problem, and both of you know it. “What do you have in the way of internal organs?” you ask. “Heart, lungs, digestive tract –”

“Everything, but it will not be possible to listen to. This is in the way.”

“He can take it off,” Tomura says. “Kurogiri. Go somewhere else and show her.”

You’d say the bathroom, but Kurogiri’s a lot taller than you are. There wouldn’t be room. You go to your bedroom instead, leaving the door slightly cracked so you can listen to what’s happening in the living room and intervene if it gets too wild. Kurogiri shrugs out of his waistcoat, followed by his shirt, leaving nothing but a pair of pants and a swirling cloud of mist. Then, as you watch, the mist begins to peel back, revealing a body underneath it.

It’s pretty clearly a human body. It looks like it’s been stitched together out of multiple other bodies, but all the requisite parts of a human body appear to be present. So is the metal neckpiece of Kurogiri’s costume. Above it, though, there’s a face. It’s a young face. Younger than you, younger than Tomura, and it looks back at you with enormous yellow eyes. Its mouth moves, and the strange doubled voice issues from it. “Hurry up. I can’t do this for long.”

You conduct a quick physical exam. Unlike Magne, Kurogiri has actual puncture wounds. One actual puncture wound in his ribcage, and when you listen to his breathing, there’s a whistle on that side that shouldn’t be there. “You’ve got a punctured lung,” you say. “It might repair on its own. If there’s anyone else who can –”

“The doctor will perform the necessary maintenance,” Kurogiri says. That means zip to you, except that the doctor’s apparently willing to treat everybody except Tomura. “Is Shigaraki Tomura safe in your company?”

You look up into that young face, see the shadow of human eyes within the yellow ones. “He is.”

“Tell him where I have gone, and that I will return shortly.” Kurogiri vanishes.

You go back out to the living room and deliver the message, then check in with Compress and Spinner about their injuries. Compress won’t let you look under his mask, but does a self-exam under your direction and somewhat confirms your diagnosis of a cheekbone fracture. He gets NSAIDs and an ice pack. Spinner has a rib out of place. You need to put it back in.

He’s not making it easy. “Stop tensing up,” you say. “Every time you do that while I’m trying to put your rib back, the likelihood of a muscle tear goes up. That’s a lot harder to fix than a dislocated rib.”

“It hurts. I’d like to see you try it!”

“I haven’t had the privilege.” The temper you swear you don’t have is doing its best to break out of captivity. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have some vodka in there. You’re going to drink that while I check on the others, and then we’ll handle your rib. Okay?”

“Sure,” Spinner says, surprised. “You lift the bottle down from the top of the refrigerator and hand it over. “Thanks.”

Twice has mostly bumps and bruises, as well as complaints about the fact that Spinner got alcohol but he didn’t. You shoo him off to share with Spinner, then check in with Toga. Toga’s really interested in your scrubs. “How many people’s blood is on there?” she asks eagerly. “You’re so lucky. All that blood everywhere – doesn’t it smell good?”

“It just smells like blood to me. But my sense of smell probably isn’t as good as yours.” You look Toga up and down. “Did you get hurt anywhere?”

“No.” Toga keeps studying you. “Can you get some blood for me? If everybody’s already bleeding –”

“Sorry,” you say, and she pouts. “I’d get caught. Plus, don’t you want those kids’ blood? Blood from some random patient of mine probably won’t help much.”

“No,” Toga agrees, “but it would taste good.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re good to go, also.” You watch as she skips off to join Spinner and Twice, then turn your attention to Tomura. You saved him for last on purpose, hoping you’d get a chance to talk to him, and now that you have one, you don’t know what to say. “Um –”

“Don’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” The fact that you don’t know either is immaterial.

“It was probably going to be some kind of pep talk. In your evil shrink voice,” Tomura says, and your mouth twitches. He notices, and a moment later he’s mimicking you. “Tomura, this could be a lot worse. You could have gotten everybody captured instead of just Sensei. The kid you handpicked to join the League of Villains blew Father’s hand off your face, but at least you’ve got a face, right?”

The joke occurs to you, and you’re so tired and overwhelmed that it comes out of your mouth with zero edits. “That’s one more face than Sensei has.”

Tomura coughs. “What?”

“Also, you missed part of what I was going to say,” you say, seizing the momentum and running with it. “Well, what you were going to say. You were going to complain about All Might winning, and I was going to say that he didn’t really win, because he leveled Kamino Ward and I spent all night trying to keep the people in those buildings alive, and mostly failing –”

“Wait, what?”

“And then,” you say, wishing you hadn’t said a word about your job, “I was going to remind you that everybody saw All Might’s scarecrow form. So nobody’s going to want him to fuck them now.”

Tomura’s expression contorts to a degree that looks painful. “That’s – not – funny,” he grits out.

“I mean, when we talked about rendering All Might unfuckable, I thought it was just a pipe dream,” you say. Tomura’s shoulders are shaking now. You don’t know what else to do but keep going. “But this is proof. The sky’s the limit. Anything is possible. I mean, if you can set up a situation that takes All Might from fuckable to unfuckable in a split second, then you can do anything you want to do.”

Tomura is staring at you, speechless and twitching like he’s caught in an electric fence, and even though you think there’s a nonzero chance you’re going to get killed over this, you can’t resist. “How’s that for a pep talk?”

“It sucked,” Tomura says, and then he bursts out laughing.

You’re proud any time you can make him laugh, and this is no exception. At first he’s just laughing. Then his breathing starts to hitch, and you realize that the laughter’s tripped another circuit in his brain – one he probably doesn’t want the others to see. “What the hell are you two laughing about?” Dabi demands from the couch. “Let the rest of us in on it.”

“Yes,” Compress agrees, “we could use something to laugh at.”

“Inside joke. You wouldn’t understand.” You catch Tomura’s sleeve and tug him down the hallway, out of sight of the others. His laughter is sounding less and less like laughter with every passing second, and he’s clawing at his neck with one hand. You keep your voice quiet, trying above all not to drop into the conflict-resolution voice. “No. Tenko, don’t. That’s not going to make things better.”

“I really fucked up.” His voice, already raspy, cracks in a way that sounds painful. “Things were supposed to – I’m not ready. I haven’t learned. He was supposed to teach me. I can’t –”

Something tells you that right now’s not the time for a joke. You think Tenko might be crying. No, you know it, and he knows you know. “Don’t look.”

You remember that from forever ago. He never wanted you to see him cry. You turn your back, as much as it hurts you to do it, and as soon as you do, his arms come up around you. His hands are curled into fists, shielding you from his quirk, one balled up against your shoulder and the other balanced over your hipbone. Something thuds against the floor behind you and you glance to one side, a jolt running through you. There’s the hand he calls Father, discarded.

Tenko’s body shakes, strongly enough to rattle you both. He’s taller than you, but not so tall that he can’t duck down and press his face into the curve of your neck and shoulder to muffle himself. After a few seconds, it’s clear that it’s not enough. You feel his mouth meet your skin. A moment later, his teeth.

It stings, and you will yourself not to flinch. You remember the few times you actually saw Tenko cry instead as opposed to just hearing it when you were kids, remember seeing him shove his fist into his mouth to stay quiet, but both his hands are occupied holding you. You wonder if he even knows he’s biting you. Or how hard he’s biting you. His breath is hot against your skin. So are his tears, and you stand there, not flinching, letting your best friend take what he needs from you. He let you hug him the last time you saw each other, when you were upset over something as small as meeting his master. Over something this big, he can have this as long as he wants.

When you cry, your tears usually stop quickly. It’s a skill you developed on purpose. But Tenko’s take a while to trail off, and it’s a little while after that before his mouth lifts away from your skin. He doesn’t mention the bite, and neither do you. He keeps holding you close. “What were you doing tonight, again?”

“Forget about that,” you say. “It’s not important.”

“Say it again.” Tenko’s hand drifts from your hip halfway under your shirt, three fingers resting against your stomach and his index finger raised. “Please.”

You try to think. “Um, I said you had one more face than your master has –”

This time Tenko snorts. “After that.”

“I said you’d say All Might won, and I’d say he didn’t, because he leveled Kamino Ward,” you continue, “and I spent all night trying to save the people who were inside those buildings –”

“That’s it!” Tenko stiffens. One hand grabs your wrist and pulls you around to face him, and you see wild excitement in his face. “You didn’t blame me for those people getting hurt. You didn’t blame my master. You blamed All Might. My plan – turning people against heroes – what you said about making them choose wrong – it worked!”

“It worked,” you say, bewildered. “Ten, I’m not exactly the common denominator here. Everybody else –”

“The ones who worship the ground heroes walk on – they were always a lost cause,” Tenko says. You won’t argue with that. People like your parents and siblings will never listen. They won’t even try. “It’s people this system hurts who will see what I’m doing. People like you. You –”

He breaks off, looking at you, grinning with tear tracks down his face. You remember this look, too. Except when you were five years old, you never saw it in the split second before he kissed you. His mouth fits against yours, messy and enthusiastic with blood on his lips, blood that could be his – or yours, depending on whether his bite broke the skin. Tenko pushes you back against the wall and keeps kissing you, only breaking away for air when he has to. You wrap your arms around him, since he can’t touch you safely, and try to deliver a reality check. “Tenko, I’ve known you forever. If I understand you –”

“Then I don’t need anybody else to,” Tenko says. “Everyone else can get behind us or get out of my way.”

He kisses you again, but before you can really get into it, Magne calls out from the living room. “Are you two done fucking yet? Spinner’s got the hiccups.”

Tenko’s face turns bright red. He scrambles to pick up the hand, and you head down the hall ahead of him. “If we were fucking, it would take a lot longer than that,” you say, and Magne lets out a low whistle. You turn to Spinner. “Sorry about the hiccups, but we can use those. Stand up, over here. And hold your arms out like this –”

Spinner does it, grimacing. You observe the timing of the hiccups for a few more minutes, then step in and apply the necessary force, popping the rib back into place. Spinner lets out a small yelp that would be more problematic if any of your neighbors were around, then lowers his arms. “Is it done?”

“It’s back in place. Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Spinner says. Then he hiccups. “Fuck it. No.”

“We can fix that, too,” you say. “Follow me.”

Tomura comes back while you’re feeding a spoonful of sugar to Spinner, instructing him to hold it under his tongue until it dissolves. He fixates on the two of you. “What are you doing?”

“Curing the hiccups.” You direct Spinner to sit down, then focus on Tomura. “What else do you need?”

“Food,” Toga says, to general assent. “Do you have food?”

“Not enough for this many people,” you say. “But we can order in.”

Five pizzas at nine in the morning isn’t the weirdest delivery order you’ve ever placed, and it’s also not the most expensive. You have a coupon, and the members of the League of Villains are surprisingly willing to pitch in – although Twice and Compress try to give you counterfeit at first. Tomura calls them on it, and they pay up in real money, after which Compress gives you a quick and unexpected lesson in how to spot counterfeit currency.

“Obviously, none of that holds if it’s a copy of Twice’s,” he says at the conclusion of the explanation, “but it’s much easier to tell with Twice’s currency. Observe –”

He drags a nail across one of the coins Twice gave you, at which point it collapses into sludge on your kitchen table. “That’s the problem with Twice’s stuff,” Toga says. “It doesn’t hold together long.”

“It looks great while it does,” Twice protests. Then: “I’m a failure!”

Toga and Magne both console him, which is weird to watch. Weirdly supportive. You didn’t think villains were supportive of each other – but why wouldn’t they be? Villains are people, just like anybody else. They have enemies. It makes sense that they’d have friends, too.

Kurogiri’s return from the doctor is poorly timed – it happens right as the pizzas arrive, and it takes every ounce of people skills you possess to prevent the delivery driver from carrying the pizzas inside for you. Kurogiri goes immediately to check in with Tomura, while everyone else tears into the pizza like they’re starving. It’s all you can do to retrieve a piece or two for Tomura. You’ve sort of lost your appetite. The last time you remember having one was last night, before everything went to hell.

You come back to Tomura and Kurogiri in the kitchen. They’re strategizing, and Tomura takes the plate from you with one hand and pulls you into the conversation with the other. “This can’t be our base,” he says to Kurogiri. “It’s too much of a risk for all of us, her included.”

“What if it were to act as something of a way station?” Kurogiri suggests. “It will likely be some time before we can establish a base with some of the creature comforts we are used to. Perhaps if we were to come here for things like showers, or laundry –”

“I don’t want them alone with her.”

“I’m not here for most of the day,” you say. “I’m at work, or running errands, or with my friends. As long as you aren’t seen and you don’t run my water bill through the roof or eat all my food – or steal my stuff – it’s fine with me.”

“Having access to a place like this would improve morale,” Kurogiri continues. His eyes tilt towards Tomura. “It would also give you an excuse to visit that no one would question.”

“I don’t need an excuse to visit. I can do what I want,” Tomura says. It’s quiet for a second. “Fine. If you’re okay with it –”

“I’m okay with it.” Your phone buzzes and you check it, hoping it’s Sho or Hirono, but it’s neither – just work, telling you that you’re not on until tomorrow morning, instead of tonight like you were supposed to be. “How long do you think you’ll be staying this time?”

“Until dark,” Tomura says. “We have to lay low for a little while. Then we’ll move.”

“I would recommend getting some rest,” Kurogiri says. “After eating that.”

“I don’t need to rest.” Tomura picks up the pizza and takes a messy bite.

On your first date, such as it was, Tomura said that villains argue like kids do. Based on what happens after the pizza’s consumed, they fall asleep after they’ve eaten like kids do, too. They hold off sleep long enough to fight over sleeping positions, but none of them go after your bed, and when Tomura starts yawning, you take the empty plate out of his hands. “My room’s darker. It’ll be easier to sleep there.”

You feel yourself relax the instant you shut your bedroom door behind the two of you. The other villains might be friendly to you, but you only trust Tenko, and to a lesser extent, Kurogiri. Tenko, paradoxically, tenses up. “I don’t need a bed. I sleep standing up.”

“Standing up?” you repeat, baffled. “How?”

“So I don’t destroy it. Once I touch something with all five fingers, it’s gone.” Tenko looks at the bed, almost longingly. “And I don’t have gloves.”

“I’ve got some,” you say. Tenko looks at you, surprised. “I took yours with me when I left last time.”

They’re folded on your dresser. You bring them over, and Tenko pulls them on, a moment before he knocks you backwards onto the bed. You give him a few seconds, then put your forearm against his chest to push him back. “Whatever we’re doing, I’m not doing it in bloody clothes. Let me get changed.”

“Fine,” Tenko complains, and shifts slowly to one side to let you up. At least he doesn’t ask you if he can help.

If you were alone, you’d shower, but you don’t want to risk being that vulnerable with an apartment full of villains. You change into your regular pajamas, the kind you’d wear if you were sleeping by yourself instead of in the same bed as your best friend, who’s a guy, who’s into you. You’re pretty sure Tenko’s not going to try for sex tonight. Not with his level of experience. And not after the day and night he’s had.

When you step out of the bathroom, changed for bed, Tenko’s sitting cross-legged on your bed, pretty clearly lost in thought. The hand is resting on your nightstand. “Hey,” you say, and he looks up.

He looks you over slowly, color coming up in his cheeks with every second that ticks past. Your pajamas aren’t particularly revealing, so you’re not sure what he’s getting excited about – but then his eyes fasten onto something and his gaze sharpens. “What the hell is that?”

You look blankly at him. “On your neck. It’s –” Tenko realizes what it is in the same moment as you realize what he’s looking at. “Fuck. Why didn’t you say something?”

“You were trying to stay quiet. I wanted to help.” You take a step back as Tenko rises from the bed and comes closer. “It’s not a big deal. It just looks –”

Tenko’s fingers brush over it and you wince in spite of yourself. “It looks worse than it is.”

Tenko steps past you, headed for the bathroom. The light switches on, and a moment later you hear him rummaging through the cabinet above the sink. “You’re a nurse. You don’t have band-aids in here?”

“The first-aid kit’s under the sink,” you say. Then something occurs to you. “This isn’t a first-aid thing. It’s just a bruise.”

“You’re not looking at it. I am.” Tenko comes back and drops the first-aid kit on the bed next to you. When you reach for it, he shoves your hand away. You reach for it a second time with the same result. “Stop. I did it, so I’m fixing it. Hold still.”

You sit there, bemused, while Tenko fumbles through the first-aid kit, trying to figure out what to use on a bruise that isn’t bleeding. “You could always kiss it better.”

“That’s lame,” Tenko scoffs. Then he leans in and does it anyway, lightly enough that it doesn’t sting. Your face flushes, a flush that only goes down once he’s come back with what feels like half a tube of Neosporin. When he speaks up again, his voice is quieter. “Why did you let me do that?”

“I didn’t let you,” you say. “Was I supposed to punch you or something?”

“Yeah. Or say ‘hey, don’t fucking bite me’. That would work, too.” Tenko sounds more than a little sarcastic, but it fades fast. “I don’t know how to do any of this. Not that out there –”

He gestures towards the door, the hallway, the League. “Or this in here,” he says, gesturing between the two of you. “You’re going to have to show me how. At first. Then I can pick it up as I go.”

“How to do what? Put a band-aid on a bruise?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tenko says. You figured you probably earned that one, but you’re going to make him say it anyway. “Be – with somebody. Master never – it’s not like I’d ever do what my parents did – or that happy-ending bullshit on TV – I don’t know. And I figure you do, since you’ve got condoms in there.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Are you slut-shaming me?”

“What? No.” Tenko gives you a weird look. “There were, like, two missing. And they’re basically expired.”

“You counted?” You look at Tenko, and he snaps at you to face front again, his face turning red. “Don’t do things like that. It’s weird.”

“Look at that. You already taught me something.”

You’re tempted to retort that Tenko shouldn’t need to be taught not to snoop through your bathroom cabinet, but then you remember that Tenko wasn’t raised like you or anybody else you know. Tenko was raised by villains, and proper socialization doesn’t appear to have been a priority. It hasn’t taught him much about first aid, either. He’s peeling open the biggest band-aid in the kit, touching all kinds of stuff he shouldn’t be touching, before lowering it gingerly down over the bruise. “You’re already good at this part,” you tell him.

“What part is this?”

“Aftercare.”

Tenko’s heard the term before. You can tell by the way his ears turn red. He presses down the bandage at the edges, then sits back. “Next time, tell me not to bite you.”

“See? You can teach me stuff, too.”

Getting into bed is weird. Sure, you both made jokes about sleepovers the last time you saw each other, but this time there’s a bed – and thanks to Tenko’s snooping, you’re both well aware that there’s a mostly-full box of condoms somewhere in the offing. You get under the covers, and after a moment Tenko copies you, fully dressed. He doesn’t stay there too long. “This is too warm.”

“You can sleep outside the blankets. Or take something off.”

The rustling tells you that Tenko’s opted for door number two, most likely with his shirt. “Now what?”

“We sleep,” you say. You decide to save cuddling as a concept for another time. You close your eyes and within seconds, you’re asleep.

You wake up to your phone buzzing on your nightstand, and Tenko tossing and turning in a restless sleep on the far side of the bed. When you flip your phone over you see notifications from the group chat. A whole pileup of them. Hirono and Sho must have finally checked in. You unlock your phone to respond and your heart goes still in your chest.

Kazuo: They didn’t make it.

Kazuo: Sho’s building came down. He died instantly.

Mitsuko: fuck you

Mitsuko: if you don’t quit fucking around

Kazuo: Hirono was trapped in the wreckage. Once she was extricated, she was sent to Yokohama General and died there ninety-eight minutes ago.

Mitsuru: and you’re just telling us now???? what the fuck

Kazuo: We had to notify their families first.

Yoshimi: we’re their family

Yoshimi: what are we going to do

Ryuhei: Sho’s family treated him like SHIT, why do they get to know before we do??

Ryuhei: what the fuck

This isn’t on Kazuo. Whoever else it’s on, it’s not on him, so you wade in, your vocal cords tied in a knot. It’s a good thing this isn’t happening in person. Your friends already saw you cry once this year, and they need someone to be calm. I know Kazuo let us know as soon as he could. And Ryuhei, you’re right – we love them more.

*loved.

You look at Mitsuko’s addition, feeling sick to your stomach. Love. It doesn’t go away. It never goes away. If anyone knows that, you do. We should be together right now. Kazuo, are you okay to host tonight?

Kazuo doesn’t send anything more than a thumbs-up, which is how you know that whatever feelings he has left are hurt by how everyone’s treating him. What’s he been doing all night? Using his quirk. Identifying victims. You’re overcome suddenly with the need to see him, to give him one of those hugs he always stands awkwardly in but never pulls away from. He’s your friend, too. Your friend who’s never hurt you or dragged you into the middle of his disastrous crusade against society. A crusade that just got two of your other friends killed.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and beside you, Tenko stirs, sits up. “What?” he asks, but you don’t answer. Can’t answer. You’re too busy jamming your fist in your mouth, a move you didn’t realize you learned from Tenko until right this second. “Who are you talking to?”

Notificaitons come up – your friends, setting a time to go to Kazuo’s – and you power off your phone and shove it away. You’ll get there early. You need to talk to him first, tell him that you get it as much as anyone can, that you’re sorry he was forced into this position, sorry he was the one who had to say it. Sorry because this is your fault. If you’d told UA ahead of time what was happening, then the student wouldn’t have been kidnapped. Then there would have been no fight in Kamino Ward that led to hundreds, maybe thousands of casualties. If you had just –

“What is it?” Tenko shakes your shoulder. “Hey. Take that out of your mouth and talk to me. What –”

You pry your fist from between your teeth. “I’m going to tell you something, and I need you not to say anything.” You can’t sit through his justifications, his arguments for why it’s All Might’s fault, when all you care about is your friends and what happened to them. If they knew what was happening. If they were scared. “Two of my friends died in Kamino Ward tonight. I just found out.”

“I –”

“Don’t say anything,” you say. “Just –”

You turn to face Tenko, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. The two of you have been through the hugging procedure enough times now that he knows what to do in response. He hugs you back, hauls you closer. His skin smells like sweat and smoke, but yours smells like blood, and you know already that you’ll be tearing the sheets off the bed, throwing them away, getting rid of the evidence. But it doesn’t matter how much evidence you get rid of. You can’t hide the truth: This happened tonight because of what Tenko did, and what you didn’t do.

You made this bed, you and Tenko. At least you get to lie in it together.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shimura tenko x reader #tenko shimura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #x reader #reader insert #please hold

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starillusion13 · 1 year ago

Text

PRECIOUS pt.2

To read pt.1 click here

Pairing: Prince!Seonghwa x f!reader x Prince!Hongjoong

Genre: Royal, Fantasy, Angst, Yandere

Warnings: smut, raw penetration(don't dare to do it unnecessarily), fingering, hints of nightmares, weird dreams, gaslighting(?), just hints of pregnancy. So, it’s about a Lie or Truth?

W.C: 4.2k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated 😭. Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

Many have requested to do the second part on this so here it is as promised with some soft and spicy insert. I hope you would enjoy it and reviews are always appreciated.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Request from: @warpedspirit (the first part ---> here)

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE CUE!

“Wake up princess…”

“mhm…”

“Do you want to sleep more?”

You snuggled into the soft blankets wrapped around your body and nodded sleepily letting out chuckles from both the males, sitting on the either side of the bed beside your head and peaking down adoringly at you. The elder brother patted your head, fingers slowly brushing the hairs and the younger one playing with your fingers. You could feel their eyes on you and the tickling sensation from their touch made you to giggle. You were feeling so much important and loved by your two best friends. For a moment, you were enjoying the time with them but as soon as the memories flashed back from last day, you jerked off from their touch. Sleepy eyes were then wide open startling the two men. Hurriedly, you tried to get off the bed and run away from them but the elder one’s fast reflex made you stop.

“What happened Y/N? Why are you scared?”

“Seon-Seonghwa…leave my hand…please let me go…I need to go.”

“What are you saying? Where do you need to go?”

You were trying to get your hands away from his grip but his hold was strong enough for you to fight against him. The same way he was holding you that time when you both met for the first time in that backyard but that time your eyes were shining bright with happiness and then now, your eyes filled with tears with fear. You recalled how they keeping you there against your will away from your fiancé. You needed to get away from that place as soon as possible before they could act more maniacally. Atleast, you should find the queen and then you could hope for some help or you could explain yourself to her.

“I need to go to Haechan. He is probable worried for me. Whatever you are doing is wrong Hwa.”

“Haechan…he…Y/N you-“

“Hogjoong! Calm down.”

Seonghwa with pity in his eyes pulled you towards the edge of the bed even though you were struggling to break apart from him, adorably cupping your face, his fingers brushing your cheeks, eyes precisely reading your current state and somehow for a few moments, you felt to be the most precious thing in that kingdom because of the fondness he was holding in his eyes while looking at you. Your reflection seemed to be a star inside his eyes. But this is so wrong, you have a fiancé.

“You are again having those weird dreams and thinking about running away from your home to this unknown person. Y/N….”

Tears falling from his eyes and a frown appeared on your face as to what was the reason for which he was crying. Was he putting up an act to make you stay with him?

“Why…why are you crying?”

Hongjoong made his towards both of you with a neutral expression and you were quite not sure of his mood or what he was thinking while approaching you but the way he came near you and gentle hands patted your head before resting them on your lower back.

“The reason is very clear, precious. He is crying for you. It’s not usual for someone to have their partner speaking delusional stuffs often after waking up from sleep.”, He said.

“Huh?” Hearing him, you turned back to Seonghwa.

“You are again under the effect. I guess you should take the medicine today.”

“What are you even saying, Seonghwa? What medicine?”

“Y/N, my precious, my princess. Since the day we came back from that other kingdom, you are acting weird as if imagining stuffs and blabbering nonsense while asleep. You started having nightmares and whenever these stuffs occur, you feel scared of me. Of us. I need to sue all the people in that kingdom for whatever and whoever has done this to you.”

Hongjoong added to his brother’s words, “It hurts to see you like this.” He turned you around and staring deeply right into you, into your eyes. “It cause our heart to ache to see our precious love so broken everytime whenever those black magic affects you. We should not have taken you there in the first place. It’s our fault, I’m so sorry.”

“Joong…no…”

“Y/N, he is right. We are really sorry. I’m sorry too for causing you this.”

Both of them having tears in their eyes and somehow, you were feeling pity for them. Were you causing them trouble? How? You could clearly remember that how you came to the kingdom last day to meet your father and then you met the queen who was so excited to have you after so long time after your disappearance from the kingdom suddenly, you told her about your engagement. Then you were in the court room where you saw your father with the other generals and ministers and then when Queen introduced you to rest of the others present there and you met Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who could not recognise you first but eventually were so excited to meet their childhood bestfriend.

You were glad that when your father shouted on you, they sent him off and then when you three reunited happily but when you brought up the topic of your engagement, their demeanour suddenly changed and started acting like some possessive jerks and as far as you could remember, they kissed you against your will and then you were drugged.

“You are telling lies. Nothing like this happened. I can still clearly remember what had happened last day. You are keeping me here against my will, you even kissed me when I had told you how I am engaged.”

“Y/N. You are engaged.” Hongjoong smiled sadly and folded his hands above his chest.

Before you could speak, your eyes fell on the mirror showing you your dress. That dress was not what you wore last day. You were a simple village girl gown but now you were covered in yellow sleeping gown with royal embroideries. Your hairs were all open, falling and covering your neck and shoulders. They both reading your reactions with curious eyes and trying to stay as much close to you in that moment.

“I’m engaged… to…”

“To us.” Hwa snacked his arms from your back and made eye contact in the mirror. The mirror reflecting the royalty visions and the empowerment. You had only one thought that all these were not yours. You didn’t belong there.

“Who changed my clothes?” You asked him slowly.

“Changed? You as per daily routine, you wore this last night from one of your gown collections.”

“I…I did not…something is not right. Yesterday I came to this palace for the first time in so many years after I last visited and then…”

Hongjoong stood beside you, glancing at his brother for once and then tugging your hairs behind while both of them having soft smiles on their face, “then you met the queen and your father who is like the one to be punished for insulting you in front of us. You apparently met us while Queen introduced you to us and we were so happy to have you but suddenly you told us that you were engaged and we lost our mind.”

“Is that the thing you wanted to say?” Hwa asked you while putting his chin on top of your head.

“Yes yes yes. That’s the thing. How come you know? Joong Hwa, please I will forget whatever happened yesterday but please let me go.”

“Y/N. He knows that only because that is the story you always tell us after waking up from your sleep whenever you have these sudden visions in your sleep or maybe nightmares.”

“story?”

“Yes precious. Hwa and I feel so upset while dealing with you in such state but you know, we need to be strong as we are engaged and we can’t just ignore you like you are nothing and let go of you. If you don’t trust us then let me call some maids. Wait.”

Hongjoong made his way out of the room leaving you both behind. Seonghwa turned you around and smiling at you and little you managed to smile back to him in response. Seeing this, he held your head to bring you closer and planted a soft and slow kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes feeling his warm lips on your skin and a wave of comfort spread over body but still a pinch of weariness was still there.

Suddenly, you heard a lot of footsteps nearing you and on turning around, you could see few maids and soldiers were standing with a bowing posture in front of Hongjoong and a wild rage in his eyes reflecting while staring at them but the eyes became soft while he looked at you.

Clearing his throat, he spoke loudly as to keep himself audible to everyone present inside that huge room of yours, well their kingdom as how could you just say it yours, “My precious princess of this palace. The Future Queen of the kingdom wants to know about herself. I would appreciate if you all just greet your princess with honour and show her some love and respect.”

“What’s happening, Hwa?”

They all turned towards you and Hwa and bowed together. The in charge of the maids stepped forward and bowed down before speaking up.

“Princess Y/N, your honour, we are glad to have you with us since the day you were announced as the future queen of this kingdom and got engaged with our both of the princes. We are so sorry for us to be here right now when you are so vulnerable but we always want to show our love, respect and kindness to the most wonderful soul in this kingdom. For the upcoming ball night, you are getting married to them and we would be honoured to be living under your ruling hand. Thank you, princess Y/N to have us here and we will do our best to prepare for the most awaited upcoming celebration.”

With the end of her statement, she smiled and bowed down before retreating her steps to join the rest of them.

You were still confused with her words and the squeeze in your hand from the elder prince, assuring you to take everything slowly and not to force yourself to fit the puzzle. You looked at Hongjoong across the room who was already staring at you, he mouthed slowly ‘Do you want to hear anything more?’ You quickly denied with aggressive shaking of your head and turning to Seonghwa, you asked him to tell others to leave the room. The soldiers and maids were then quickly dismissed from the scenario and you zoned out to your thinking about the situation unfolding in front.

You wanted to believe that they were telling you the truth and all those were your imaginations but somehow deep inside you, a feeling of uneasiness striking your every nerve as to why you were imagining a stranger as to be your fiancé and the day you met these two princes and they kept you here was replaying in your head and it felt so real. Who was Haechan? Was he just a part of your imagination? Or might be someone important whom you can’t and keep imagining him? Were you really engaged to both the princes? You casted a glance to both of them and they were discussing something between them. Your knees felt weak with all these overthinking and you sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the bedsheets tightly into your fist. You didn’t want to face your father but for then you wanted to ask him whether everyone around you was faking things or you were really the princess. But did you think your father would appreciate your presence and help you out to solve that problem?

“Is this real?”

The two princes stopped their conversation and looked at you. They shared a knowing look with each other and then when Hongjoong approached you, grinning adorably at you. He sat beside you and gave you a warm hug and that time, it was enough to soothe you.

“Hongjoong, I’m scared. These all are confusing to me, I want to forget it please. Do something and make me forget it. I feel like losing my mind and I belong to somewhere else even when everyone around me is trying their best to cope up with my mental health. I am being a burden to both of you like this. Even when I want to believe those are my imaginations but somewhere it feels like the reality and you…you are lying.”

“It’s okay Y/n. There is nothing for which you need to be afraid of and thinking so hard. We are here for you and we can overcome this together.”

Hwa kneeled down in front of you and placed his hands on tops of your yours, resting on your lap. He smiled up to you and then again, a little smile appeared on your face as well.

“You have to trust us. We are not lying, Y/N. We can’t lie to you and also you can’t be a burden to us. I hope we can arrange for some things which can help you to forget this forever and we won’t be in this situation again.”

“Is it possible?”

“Of course, it is my precious.”

Turning your face around by your chin, Hongjoong said “You are always so vulnerable at these times and we take care of you by being with you the whole day to get off your mind from this as much as possible. Do you want to know?”

You nodded quickly on his words and he casted a glance to Seonghwa who nodded in response to which the younger prince smirked.

Hongjoong pulled you closer earning a surprise gasp from you, making you sit on his lap. Your wide eyes asking a lot of things but his hands just rubbed up and down on your back relaxing your tensed self. “Don’t be surprise like this.” He chuckled.

“You have to trust us. Okay?”

“Yes.”

Holding your chin up, staring straight at you, “Do you trust us?”

“I do.”

With that, his lips crashed on you and you closed your eyes. Lost in the moment, the memories of those story flashing back at you. That hungry kiss of his is nowhere similar to the now gentle kiss of his lips when moving on yours. He was your fiancé and the affectionate and love was all radiating from the heat of the kiss. The vibration of his groan when you pulled his hairs echoing in your mind. The moment with him with your bodies so close and his lips dancing with yours. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t notice how Seonghwa was admiring your every little sounds you were making and your movements under the touch of his brother. He tapped on your hand to gain your attention and then when you both broke apart from the kiss to look back at the person who just called you. You were gasping for air and Hongjoong was still in the dazed state similarly as you but you chuckled when Seonghwa offered his hand to pull you towards him.

“Why are you smiling, love?”

“It’s so weird that few moments back I was struggling to get away from here and now here I am accepting your hand so eagerly.”

“Its okay though, that’s usual to feel scared after having those dreams that feels so real and I’m glad that you are fighting against the odd very well. We are proud of you. Can we?”

“You don’t have to ask, Hwa. I’m already having so much on my mind and please help me to get off from all these but don’t push me off my limits, please.”

“Just two, okay? Can you handle it?”

You nodded in response and then when he quickly attached his lips with yours. His kiss was lot more rough than his brother’s as if he was fighting against his will not to suck your whole life out of you. The way his hands holding your hairs tightly in his fist and other wandering around your body, you felt like melting under his touch. Teeth clashing with each other and saliva sliding down your lips was earning groans from both the princes.

With slow steps, he made you step back towards the bed and when the back of your knees hit the bed, you fall down on the bed with him on top of you. You moaned when you felt his hands on your chest, squeezing slightly and his lips still attached to yours. You felt him pulling your dress down your shoulders to expose your shoulders and collarbones more. Tongue sliding from your lips, licked down to your throat and neck, teeth hovering over the skin of your shoulders and finally he kissed on the collarbone. The moans from you were ringing in his ears and pushing his inner beast to just rip off your clothes that moment but he didn’t want to scare you off so he managed to put up a gentle smile and moved down to your legs to lift your gown. Meanwhile, Hongjoong attached his lips again and you willingly accepted it. He pulled you upwards to give Seonghwa more space between your legs. Removing every clothing from your woman hood, Seonghwa pressed his palm over your heat and you gasped in the mouth of Hongjoong.

“You are being so good for us, precious. Everything is gonna be okay. Just trust us and only us.”

In a daze, you broke the kiss to look down at him and nodded eagerly to which he chuckled. Your one hand entangled in Hongjoong’s hair and other grabbing the sheets tightly. At this point, you have forgotten every doubt, every reason of your fears and the situation of the outside world is just an abandon stuff to you. You no longer wanted to step outside to clarify your thoughts but just wanting to feel them.

Seonghwa inserted his finger slowly and your eyes twitching and face scrunching up with the effect. Their eyes watching how you were falling apart second by second and swearing, they were feeling so many things to do with you right that moment. Slow but painful rubs were making on your bud and a jolt of waves of pleasure ran down your body making you moan out his name and after abusing it for few more times, he pushed himself inside you also filling up your ears with praises. You didn’t realize when he got rid of his extra accessories and clothing.

“Yes, take it like a good princess. My precious doing so well for us. So good.”

You trusted them and they told you that that was the way they kept your mind off from those situations everytime when you were vulnerable but somehow the feeling of him buried inside you and pleasure spreading all over your body making the tits hard under the hold of Hongjoong and Seonghwa endearingly looking down at you while a bundle of knots building inside you. Their equal attention and touches with lots of praises nearing you to your climax and when he started to hit your sweet spot, you lost your mind and started blabbering nonsense. His hands pushed your gown more up to your stomach and rubbing the thighs softly before gripping the hips tighter. With increasing of his pace, you could feel him getting to his high soon as well and then when you screamed out his name when you both came together.

Heavy breathings and sweats mixing with each other when he rested his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and kissing there. Your hands patted his head and other one intertwined with Hongjoong.

“Seonghwa…”

“Yes, my love? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no…but why did I feel like that it is my first time doing this?”

“Hm…you always feel like this. Maybe everytime when we express our love like this with each other, we find ourselves falling in love all over again and everything seems to start from the beginning but gradually, we will feel that we belong to each other and everything will be fine.”

You hummed and he get off from you just to rest himself sideways beside you and peeking down at your half eyes closed state. Hongjoong got on the bed mimicking his brother’s previous position and his every lingering touch was sending warm waves of pleasure. Your fingers and toes curled when you felt his lips leaving feather kisses on your thighs and inner thighs. Seonghwa placed a kiss on your forehead and you looked towards him with hooded eyes. Your attention averted towards Hongjoong between your legs, smiling down at you.

“My precious princess. Are you ready for me? You are already so good for us. I know you will be okay. Trust us.”

TRUST THEM. They were repeating these words over and over again. You knew they didn’t want you to feel burden and you being a precious gem to them. They couldn’t lie to you as why would they when you were engaged with them. Then why were all those scenes from the story keep flashing to you and you felt like having a separate life out of the palace. A life which was calling you back to it’s embrace. Also, your soul felt like missing out someone so important to it, as if someone waiting for you to engulf you in his arms and give you the comfort of home. Haechan. Why were you still thinking of him? He was just a character from your imagination.

“Ah!”

Your thoughts broke when Hongjoong pushed himself deep into you and start thrusting with an annoyed expression, as if he could read that you were again thinking all those scenarios. But as soon as he made an eye contact with you, his demeanour changed quickly, the rage in his eyes became soft just like someone threw some ice-cubes on the burning fire. His thrusts were rough and uneven as if he was waiting to have you under him, whimpering and moaning out his name like that. To break you down with himself buried deep inside you was his only thoughts running through his mind. Your sounds and wiggling movements under him, making his dick twitch inside you and your walls clenched around him.

“Yes, precious. Just like that. You feel so good. You are doing so good.”

With the praises and uneven thrusts hitting your g-spot pushed you towards your high and with a final thrust, the coil inside you broke loose. He was riding out his high and your bud felt stimulated with the movement and you whined to it. Hongjoong pulled himself out and placed him on your other side. Your mind was clouded with everything happened right that moment but you could feel two pairs of eyes staring down at you. You somehow managed to look back at them.

“I want to forget those fake scenarios for forever but… but I can’t take my mind of it. I feel like having a different world out there. A different life. But don’t know why. I want to trust you. I trust you but still somewhere there still linger some doubts.”

“Precious Y/N…Everything needs time and we will overcome this together. You will be a great queen and a great mom.”

“Yes Joong, she would be the best mom to our children and the great Queen of this kingdom.”

Hwa placed his hands over your tummy and rubbed soothing circles over your dress messily folded upon. You could remember how they released themselves inside you and still could feel their cums inside you.

“The baby that will be growing inside you will be ours. You are our precious. Take rest, Y/N. We can figure out things later.”

Humming to him, you snuggled into the sheets and fell into slumber.

The two princes stared at you for a while before sharing looks with each other. Having a conversation with just eyes, they smirked and watched how your chest moving up and down with your silent breathes. Hands placed each on top of their own on your belly.

“let’s prepare for the most awaited day for our precious.”

Was it really a dream? Or were they faking everything? It’s not true. Right? They were your childhood best friends and soon to be your husbands. You were just overthinking and doubting them. You needed to apologize them later for worrying them and causing them so much trouble.

“Did you find her?”

“No, prince Haechan. We couldn’t find her anywhere but some villagers told us that they have last seen her in the nearby kingdom.”

“Which kingdom?”

“Halazia.”

hala hala hala hala halaziaaaaaaaa......

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Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @eriny123

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#kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #ateez #ateez au #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez poly #ateez seongjoong

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hms-no-fun · 4 months ago

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in your view of things right now, with the political climate so hot coming into the election, and companies doing worse than ever in terms of amassing greed and power and fucking us all over... what do you think has to change to find a way out?

oh boy, what a question. i've got a BA in film studies. i pay my bills by making youtube videos and writing homestuck fanfiction. i am not an authority, i only kind of vaguely know what i'm talking about in any given conversation. but i do think about this question a lot, and i've been wanting an excuse to arrange some of my thoughts on the matter. so, you know, don't take my words here as gospel, or as a coherent platform, or whatever. i'm just a goat with some opinions who hasn't read enough theory but means well.

alright. as a communist my answer is always gonna be "proletarian revolution," but that's an endgoal we're currently nowhere near achieving. the path to getting there is impossible to truly know, because of course revolutions are historically contingent on an organized vanguard being prepared to take control in a moment of national crisis. we don't have a leftist vanguard in this country, haven't done since the FBI and state governments went to war with the Black Panthers. my ideal vision of an effective communist party is one unlike any that currently exists on a large scale in the USA, built by organizing communities to coordinate neighborhood needs, as part of city/county organizations coordinating local needs, as part of state organizations that etc. right now political parties are exclusively focused on electoralism. i want a party that can organize eviction blockades, free community daycare, reading groups, high-capacity cafeterias, and all manner of mutual aid. i want a party that can operate with solidarity, as the Panthers did by supporting the 28 day 504 sit-in that resulted in the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act. an effective vanguard party interfaces directly with the working class and builds its policy platforms based on their needs with no apology, rather than the acceptable liberal half-measures we've grown so accustomed to.

but it's a loooooooong road to get even that far. and you might say such an organization would be offputting, but like. the Panthers won over a lot of moderates over time because they weren't just out on the streets posturing. they took care of people. we only have free school lunch programs at all because of them. this is the thing that drives me nuts about so many leftists today-- you don't win over a moderate or conservative by debating the merit of their ideas. you help improve the material conditions of their day to day life, thanklessly, as you'd do with everyone in that community, because you cannot adopt means testing by another name without selling off an essential part of yourself. slowly, over time, some of those people will be won over. it'll never be everyone, but it doesn't have to be everyone. it doesn't even have to be a majority. you can get a hell of a lot done with even just 30% of people, especially if those people are even mildly-disciplined members of a well-organized party apparatus.

so, okay, that's my sense of the broad strokes. i want a proletarian revolution by way of a militant vanguard party. not saying this is the ONLY way forward, just the one i think would be most likely to succeed under the right circumstances. but again, we're a million miles away from having a communist vanguard in this country. quite frankly, such a thing feels an impossible pipe dream at this exact historic moment. so the question for me then becomes, how do we create the conditions that would allow for such an organization to emerge, claim power, hold it long enough to build a substantial base, then act on it towards a revolutionary goal?

first you've gotta ask why it's so hard to imagine this fanciful 20th century ass operation today. obvious answers: it's fucking impossible for a third party to gain a foothold in the system as it stands, so let's fix that. ranked choice voting would be a good place to start. i'm no electoralist, but if we're presuming that the revolution isn't happening tomorrow then some element of its foundation must be in making our democracy an actual democracy that can reflect people's needs. repeal citizens united. put HUGE limits on campaign donations and make it harder to conceal donations through super PACs. redistricting is another essential piece of the puzzle-- there is precisely one map of every major usamerican city and it's the map of redlined districts where people of color were not allowed to buy property. look at wealth distribution in communities and it'll map 1 to 1 to historic redlining, guaranteed. we gotta fix gerrymandering, loosen restrictions on poll access (such as the ad hoc poll tax that is government ID requirements), and if we're really feeling frisky push for a mandatory federal voting holiday so that no one has to work on election day (which elections count for "election day" is a whole other quagmire of course). less obvious answers: the cops and the FBI are still imprisoning and murdering black, poc, native, and queer activists in broad daylight. the national prison population is an IMMENSE locus of potential revolutionary energy. some goals on that front: abolish prisons, massively defund the cops, and curtail the surveillance state. restore the convicted felon's right to vote, and otherwise remove the many bureaucratic roadblocks that artificially create the cycle of recidivism. put money into nationwide job training programs (NO PUBLIC-PRIVATE PARTNERSHIPS) not just for ex convicts but for everyone, for reasons we'll get to momentarily.

i focus on electoral reform at the start here because i think it's an illustrative example of just how sprawling the task before us is. my goal isn't to overwhelm you or make you feel doomed because "holy shit that's already a lot of stuff that feels totally impossible and you haven't even mentioned healthcare yet," but to hammer home that the class war is being fought on a million fronts. you will go completely numb if you expect any one person or organization to address all of these issues simultaneously and as soon as possible. in an ideal world, there are many many affinity groups working towards these ends all over the place, either as part of or in solidarity with our imagined vanguard. i'm trying to look at ways to materially improve the lives of people in our political economy as it currently exists, rather than just saying "we need revolution" and leaving it there.

alright then, so what about capitalism? another major factor in the systematic disenfranchisement of the working class is the role corporate employers play in maintaining the class war. nobody has time to participate in local political actions because everyone has to work crushing hours, and when they do have days to themselves they still have to personally drive to wherever things are happening and find parking, instead of grocery shopping, taking care of kids, just fucking relaxing, whatever. obvious answers: medicare for all. right now, healthcare access is tied to employment status unless you are COMICALLY poor (i just got kicked off of medicaid a couple months ago because i now make marginally more than the cutoff, which now means i'm paying $200+ more a month on healthcare and am now way more worried about money than when i was on welfare. what a great and functional system!). if you're afraid of losing your health insurance for any reason, then you are disincentivized from expressing any opinions you might have about the conduct of your employer by, say, quitting. just passing universal healthcare alone would cause some major turmoil in the US economy. invest in mass public transit with rigorous local neighborhood access, and now a hell of a lot more people are empowered to participate in civic duty. less obvious answers: get rid of at-will employment! make it much much harder for employers to fire people, and regulate the ability of corporations to do mass layoffs. this would go a long way towards throwing some wrenches into the methods corps use to invent economic prosperity through the creative application of spreadsheets. on top of that, let's nuke the absolute fuck out of means-testing for programs like food stamps, medicaid, social housing, or literally any other form of "charity" that made Reagan shit his pants.

speaking of means testing, let's talk about bullshit jobs. there are a TON of pointless, degrading, wasteful jobs in this country. corps playing middlemen to middlemen. endless state and business bureaucracy using hundreds of systems that rarely if ever communicate with one another, putting a huge administrative burden on working people while the rich beneficiaries of this exploitation get to launder their guilt through the public-facing punching bags of customer service representatives. too many people work at the office factory. there are a lot of industries that need to be massively curtailed if not outright destroyed, a fact that intersects with the threat of climate change when you include coal and oil jobs. it's not enough to get rid of these positions, you also have to have a plan for those displaced workers-- hence the job training program i mentioned before. if we actually want to see a transition into a more egalitarian society that doesn't run exclusively on fossil fuels, then there needs to be a pipeline that gives purpose to the people whose lives will inevitably be radically altered by the kinds of changes we're talking about. there's an important thing, actually-- we all need to be prepared for this line of questioning and have a good answer in the back pocket. there is no shift from pure capitalism to even lite democratic socialism that won't hurt some cohort of people that doesn't deserve it. unless you want them to fall in with the fascists, you're gonna want to have a plan for how to integrate them into the world you're trying to build.

here's a wildcard for you. a lot of folks are on that "break up the monopolies" grind these days, and i appreciate the sentiment. i also think we would be vastly better served in the long run by simply nationalizing the monopolies. obviously there are plenty of worthwhile concerns to be had about any usamerican government gaining that kind of control over anything at this precise moment, but we cannot let that impede the horizons of our imaginary. i don't want market reform, i want the abolition of markets. the internet should be a public utility and ISPs should be government institutions. tech needs UNENDING regulation as we are all aware. social media should be public and interoperable. there needs to be a rolling back of internet surveillance. i've been toying with the idea of a Federal Department of Digital Moderation as an intervention on the current fascist radicalization pipeline that is social media, but that raises so many other concerns that i don't have an answer for. mostly i just think that the profit motive needs to be excised from as many sectors of public life as possible, and nationalization is a pretty good way to get there.

affordable housing! lower rents means fewer hours at work to make ends meet means more time to spend with family & community means more chances for more people to participate in civic action. abolish student debt and make college free! and make it illegal for colleges to invest in shit like fucking israel! a more accessible system of higher education means a more educated proletariat. this wouldn't by any stretch automatically lead to a more leftist proletariat, but conservatives have worked very hard to curtail access to higher education and that alone is more than enough reason to push for it. i've really buried the lede here, honestly. to my mind, medicare for all, mass public transit, free education, and national rent control are THE milestones we ought to be aiming for in terms of domestic policy. it is simply impossible to estimate how seismically and immediately these four policies (if applied equitably and without means-testing) could transform civic life in the USA. any systemic social ill you can name has some connection to one of these four ideas. i personally hold prison abolition & police defunding as equally essential, but these are unfortunately a MUCH harder sell for a lot of folks and will require some solidaristic frog-boiling from the likeable progressives/socialists of the world to naturalize the idea. but then, on that front i'm speaking very much outside my lane, and would defer to the wisdom of actual abolition activists in a scenario where we were talking concrete policy.

then there's foreign policy. this post has gone on a long time and i'm not the person to talk about this at length, but: the united states military needs to be defunded, and its outposts across the world removed. to curtail global climate change, the american imperial project must end. our meddling in foreign affairs is directly responsible for the domination of capital, and so long as this and other western states exist as they do, no communist outpost is safe. then there comes the question of reparations. all those billionaires didn't invent their money, they stole it. in quite a lot of cases they stole it from US citizens, but they've stolen far more from the rest of the world. tax the rich at 99% and distribute billions no-strings-attached to african and pacific island nations? other countries deserve a right to self determination without the threat of foreign interference. our nation's wealth doesn't just need to be taxed and redistributed to working class usamericans (particularly black communities), it ought to be redistributed internationally to all the countries we've fucked with over the last century and a half. but that's a pretty late stage pipe dream.

i guess the last thing that i've been thinking a lot about is more esoteric, and certainly difficult to implement. i believe we need to seriously interrogate "progress" as a concept. right now our society is defined by technological advancements as encouraged by a capitalist economy. if you fuck around with old analog tech at all, you've probably said to yourself more than once "they really don't make em like this anymore." i think about that fucking Hot Ones interview with matt damon about how streaming has stabbed the established profit model in the heart, where he says something like "we had a pretty good thing going before they showed up." i think about small museums closing down in the pandemic because they couldn't turn a profit, small local shops closing down for the same reason. constant newness paired with engineered obsolescence. disruption of the equilibrium in order to steal profit. it's easy to argue that socialized healthcare is good because it's actually more cost efficient than private healthcare. but those are the terms set by capitalists. i believe that healthcare and profit-seeking should be mutually exclusive. i believe that some things are a public good, however small --museums, quirky shops, parks, art spaces, open lots, movies, music, theater, whatever-- and that these things should be protected from the market at all costs. the alternative is corporate consolidation of everything, as every piece of local color cannot compete with economies of scale and asphyxiates to death. i refuse to accept the idea that "progress" means throwing away anyone who specialized in the thing being progressed beyond. i refuse to accept the idea that "progress" is linear and exists beyond the purview of morals, values, and ideology, nor indeed that it is inevitable and in any event an unalloyed good.

i believe that it doesn't matter if making higher-quality clothes at greater cost in unionized factories is "less efficient" than fast fashion. all "efficiency" means is spread everything as thin as possible, just enough just on time regardless of context. it's a mask for robber baron bullshit. it's an attempt by the bourgeoisie to naturalize the laws of economics as if they were on the same level as the laws of gravity, and we just can't accept that anymore. there's that meme, "i want shorter games with worse graphics made by people who are paid more to work less and i’m not kidding." i think we ought to apply that sentiment far more broadly. if we truly believe in the dignity of a self-determined life, then we must agree that some things are above profit, above efficiency, and are worth doing right. i haven't quite nailed down yet how exactly to verbalize this idea in a way that can be easily & quickly understood. but i feel it intensely, and only moreso as time goes on. as we push for these seemingly-impossible policy changes, it's of equal importance that we not lose ourselves to the limitations of the system as it exists under capitalism. to transform the world we must transform ourselves. to save the world we must save ourselves. if we hold a value to be true, then it must be constant and uncompromising. we must agree that our lives are better off when certain things exist even if they aren't efficient or fail to turn a profit, and thus decimate whatever part of us has been raised to believe that efficiency and profit ought ever to enter the equation. of course, in any revolution costs quickly become a huge going concern. there will always be painful compromises in policy along the path, always disappointments and mistakes. no revolution can be perfect. but through all these material challenges, the world that must be needs a place at the table with us. impractical, impossible, unfeasible... necessary.

you will probably not live to see that world, anon, and neither will i. we are all in the long game now, and it can never stop with one good policy, one good politician, one needed win. it's everything or it's nothing. socialism or barbarism. it is this belief which guides me, that no one ought to suffer the indignities i've suffered in my years working for shit wages, struggling to find housing, watching family die from economic abandonment. that there is simply no reason for society to be the way that it is, and that "the world isn't fair" is no excuse when we are the engineers of that "world" in every way that matters.

anyway, those are some of my thoughts on the subject. i hope i haven't made a complete fool of myself here.

#sarah posts #askbox #us politics #communist polemic #communism #revolution

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