#it's been acting up since the weekend but today was especially bad

[bestdressedchuuya]

Idk what the fuck I did to my right shoulder but it was HURTIN today

[captain-joongz]

Tits out

Pairing: best friend!Wooyoung x f!reader

Genre: bffs to ??, college au, pure smut, barely any plot, fluff, humour

Summary: When talking to your best friend about your nipple piercing during movie night backfires in the most spectacular way possible and Seonghwa's new couch gets caught in the crossfire

Word count: cca 7k

Warnings: reader is chubby, there's no discussion, they just jump into it, titty sucking, nipple and nipple piercing fixation, unprotected sex (this is pure fantasy, be careful in the real world), a little bit of body insecurity about body hair, fingering, doggy, squirting (let me know if i missed anything)

I had met Wooyoung back in the first year in uni and now four years later we were still going strong. The man that walked in confidently into a lecture hall, bee-lined straight for the empty space next to me and was sitting down before I even comprehended his question of “is this seat taken?”, who then proceeded to talk my ear off and invite himself for lunch with me, was quite easy to befriend, believe it or not. After sitting next to him a few times and going for lunch later, I’d managed to get out of my shell a little too and soon we were two merry extroverts steamrolling through university hip to hip. He’d become one of my best friends, one of my closest friends and a person that understood me almost perfectly. We knew we could count on each other completely and trusted each other blindly.

I was introduced into his friend group, and he was into mine and we often hung out together in huge groups of rowdy younglings, going dancing and spending weekends eating too much junk food and watching bad movies someone had put on, but no one really paid attention to besides the occasional joke about its stupidity. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve done something extremely stupid while hanging out with them and was heavily encouraged by both Wooyoung and San. It was the most fun I’ve had though, and that’s what really mattered.

Now I was already out of school, but Wooyoung and most of his friends were continuing with their studies. Due to this, we tried to hang out every Friday, but a lot of the time it ended up being just me and him or even just me sitting in their living room watching Netflix waiting who makes it home first. It was like my second home at this point, and no one was phased when I showed up out of the blue and sat on the couch like I owned it. Especially since Seonghwa bought the new one, that one was extremely comfortable.

Usually, Friday night was a hang out and movie night for me and Wooyoung anyway, but today I was a woman on a mission. A few months ago, I had gotten a nipple piercing. It wasn’t my first one (though it was definitely the most painful one) so I wasn’t extremely worried about it, but lately it has been acting up a little. It usually didn’t hurt but sometimes there would be this slight discomfort around it and I’ve even noticed some slight scabbing even months later. I knew realistically that it was most likely okay, but my anxious nervous little brain had managed to convince me that I’m going to lose my tit or something. That’s why I needed a second opinion. And that’s where Wooyoung came in.

Tonight, I was making my way towards their flat knowing I’m about to ask Wooyoung for the weirdest favour one ever could, but it should be okay, right? We were such close friends, it definitely wasn’t a big deal, right? You normally asked your friends to take a look at your tits and tell you whether there’s something weird about one of them, that was just a usual Friday, no?

I checked the group chat again and confirmed that it would be just me and Woo tonight and then made my way to their building’s door. They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator, which would normally be a minus, but since it was an old warehouse made into an apartment building, their flat was actually massive and housed all of them without a problem, so I graciously sacrificed myself and stomped up the stairs a few times a week to see their faces (and eat their food).

Upon arriving to the flat, I found Woo busy making something in the kitchen, humming lightly while whipping cream like a 50s housewife.

“What you up to?” I asked casually strolling into the room, making Wooyoung jump with shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, you sneak in all the time and yet I still get scared by you,” he said and put his hand over his heart. I slapped his shoulder and peeked at what he was making.

“You literally gave me the keys, Wooyoung, I’m hardly sneaking in,” I said and rolled my eyes at him. He just laughed and pushed me out of the kitchen. “Shut up and start choosing the movie or I know we’ll just end up scrolling through Netflix for hours like always,” he shouted over his shoulder and went back to whatever snack he was making.

As I sat on the couch, I was steeling myself for what I was about to ask him, trying to figure out how to bring it up. No time like the present, right. I mindlessly scrolled through the movies, but really I was waiting for Woo to join me in the living room. Then finally he came in through the door, a plate of little cheesy snacks in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. I was just about to open my mouth, but he cheekily winked at me and made his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a little tray with two cups of hot chocolate, the coke and two glasses.

He finally joined me on the couch and for a while we both just sat there, arguing about whether we want to watch a comedy or a thriller, while I was thinking how to broach the subject. But in the end, I didn’t even need to do that. In the middle of my sentence about how I’m not watching another stupid horror movie about nothing, Wooyoung suddenly turned to me and just gave me this look. And I knew I was done playing around. I stopped in the middle of talking and stared at him. He grinned.

“Okay, just spill it,” he said when I stayed silent for too long.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to stray away from the topic until I was ready, but he’d already saw through me. “Really?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve known you for years, you think I don’t recognise when you want to talk about something? Just spill the beans already.” I heaved a deep sigh and then turned on the couch to face him. He was still grinning.

“Okay, this might be really weird, but just bear with me for a while, okay?” I started. While I was slightly worried about the piercing, I also couldn’t help but fear Woo’s reaction, after all this wasn’t exactly a normal thing to ask your friend. I knew worst case scenario he’ll just say no and laugh it off, but still. He looked a little more serious for a moment, but then I continued talking. “I need you to look at my tits, okay?”

Wooyoung looked at me shocked for a moment and then bursted out laughing. I just glared at him annoyed. “Hear me out-“ I started but he cut me off. “Is this about like being insecure about them? You want me to look at them and say they’re okay? Y/N, you know your tits are amazing-“ he was going on and on, but this time it was me who cut him off.

“God, no, nothing like that,” I shut him up embarrassed. While it was true that I was slightly insecure about my plump figure, I loved my boobs, I knew they looked great. They were simply just right, it was one of the things I loved about my body. Wooyoung sensed that it must be something more serious and gestured for me to continue.

“You know I got the piercing, but lately it started to act up a little and I’m getting nervous and I just need you to look and tell me it looks fine,” I got out in one breath and he just stared at me. “Okay…? Why don’t you look into the mirror?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I have, but since I’m getting so nervous about it, I need a second opinion,” I explained, “Come on Woo, I know it’s a super weird and gross request, but help me out here.” Wooyoung laughed again and smirked at me.

“Gross and weird?” he repeated, “Not only I’ll see a nipple and a piercing, but I’ll also see a boob and a nipple with a piercing, that’s like some of the best things in this world combined together.” I slapped his shoulder again, but we both laughed this time.

“You’re the worst, god,” I said laughing, “I’m surprised you haven’t died over being such a fucking horndog all the time yet.” He laughed too and then gestured to my top.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just shut up and pull your tits out,” he joked and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. I wasn’t particularly shy about showing my body, so it wasn’t that hard to bare myself like this. Hell, me and Woo have probably seen each other naked a few times but just didn’t care enough.

I pulled the two straps of my top off my shoulders and bunched the fabric around my waist, then reached around to my back to take off my bra. When it hit the floor Wooyoung’s full attention was suddenly on my chest, and it flustered me a little. I fought the instinct to cover myself with my arms and instead just sat there, topless with my best friend intensely staring at my boobs.

“So?” I asked anxiously, “What do you think?” He suddenly straightened up and it brought us quite close to each other. “That you have really great tits,” he said absent-mindedly, his hands raising on instinct as if going to squish them. I flushed and swatted at them. “Yeah, I know,” I said annoyed, “that’s not what I asked though.” That seemed to break him out of it a little bit and he hunched down so his face was on level with my chest. I face-palmed and hoped no one would come home unannounced, cause this would be damn hard to explain.

“No, yeah I think it’s okay,” Woo said after a while, “I mean, the pierced one looks a little different, but that’s to be expected. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” I relaxed at hearing him say so and felt the tension leave me at once. But I just needed a little more to feel completely at ease.

“Can you like… touch it to see if it’s weirdly warm or if there’s some weird texture or something?” I asked embarrassed and quickly looked to the side when Woo’s head whipped up to look at me. “You want me to what now?” he questioned me flabbergasted.

“I don’t know, dude! You’re the one that gets into contact with tits, you’ll know if there’s something wrong with it!” I started hurriedly explaining myself, growing more flustered by the minute. Wooyoung stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed. I thought this was finally the line that was too far for him, but then his hand suddenly flew up and stopped just millimetres from my nipple. We both just sat there, holding our breath, not knowing where to look, when he slowly brought his fingers in contact with my skin. I gasped quietly, but in the silence it was still audible. I flushed in embarrassment and refused to look anywhere else except for the wall by the TV.

Wooyoung’s fingers messed around a little, pressing down on the nipple and gently squeezing it, also lightly touching onto the piercing. Surprisingly enough, what I felt wasn’t pain like I feared. With every soft brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin, a little bolt of pleasure shot through me and I had to fight to keep myself from gasping more or arching into his touch. I felt the blush spreading over my face and completely mortified I noticed beginnings of a scorching wet heat between my legs.

Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was clearing his throat. The silence that set between us was broken and we both started shifting around, not knowing what to do with the situation we found ourselves in.

“I think it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, but I was so embarrassed I barely even registered it.

“Oh thank god, I was really getting nervous,” I said and laughed a little awkwardly. Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything and just sat in front of me tensely, so I assumed it was good and he just needed a moment to shake off the sudden awkward atmosphere, and turned around to find my bra. That was a rookie mistake though. The moment my eyes left Wooyoung, he striked. As I was searching the floor with my eyes, suddenly what felt like a lightning strike went through my whole body. My back arched on instinct, and I toppled backwards onto the couch with a loud moan.

Wooyoung’s mouth has attached itself onto my pierced nipple and he sucked again, another shock pulsing through me and pleasure suddenly flooding my senses. My hands flew to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away I just pulled him closer. I myself wasn’t sure of what was happening or what we were doing, but it felt too good to dwell on it and I definitely didn’t hate it.

Wooyoung moved closer and made himself comfortable between my spread thighs, his mouth busy sucking and licking around my piercing. I was letting out tiny breathy moans, my legs instinctively pulling him closer to my core, hoping for a little friction.

“What… what are you doing?” I finally gathered my wits and asked breathlessly. I looked down to see the top of his head moving around. He peaked up to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been with a girl that has a nipple piercing, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You damn horndog,” I muttered, but didn’t push him away or stop him. That gave him confidence to continue, and he smirked at me, as one of his hands brushed down my front until he was slightly pushing on my clit through my clothes and I arched again. He moved to the other nipple and played with it a little, while his unoccupied hand moved to my other breast, touching it teasingly, squeezing it slightly and thumbing the piercing.

“It’s so sensitive,” he murmured and watched his hand completely fascinated. I was about to retort something, but he chose that moment to bite at my breast and move up to leave wet hot kisses on my neck and a loud moan came out instead. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I was starting to worry I might utterly embarrass myself. One of my hands sneaked down between our bodies, trying to encourage him to touch me properly instead of just gently pressing, but he caught it and pulled it up to my shoulder. Suddenly he was towering over me, smirking at me and just generally being a menace. I arched again, this time trying to push our lower halves together, but he avoided me with a laugh.

“God, please, Wooyoung just touch me,” I begged him as the desperation from the scorching heat cursing through my veins was taking over, throwing everything into the wind and fully committing to getting fucked by my best friend. He kept smirking and propped himself up over me on his elbow.

“Touch you, huh?” he said and suddenly his hand was back to teasing my clit, this time with more force. I keened and pushed up into him, suddenly embarrassedly realising just how wet I’d gotten from such small ministrations. He chuckled watching me, head diving to take my pierced nipple into his mouth again, gently playing with it with his tongue and scraping his teeth over it. I jerked and my hands flew into his hair, holding him in place so that he’d never stop, my mouth falling open on a silent moan, too overwhelmed by the sensation to properly function. He slowly moved up to my neck, peppering kisses and small bites along the way, while his fingers moved in little circles over my clothed clit.

I was so turned on I could die, I needed him to touch me properly – like stuff me full of his long beautiful fingers. And I told him as such. And he laughed at me.

“Aw, such a little desperate angel, aren’t you?” Wooyoung whispered into my skin. I whined his name, hoping it would speed him up. He scoffed at me playfully but moved away to pull my shorts off, grabbing them with one hand and pulling them down in one swoop; leaving me a little breathless and only in a bunched up top around my middle, while Wooyoung was still fully clothed. I started pulling his shirt off and he obliged, flinging it to the other side of the room eagerly.

Woo sat back on his heels between my spread thighs to take me in and I started to feel shy again, hands moving to grab onto him and pull him back onto me, but he pushed my arms back into the couch and held them there for a moment, before sitting back again.

“No, no, angel, I’m looking at your pretty pussy,” he teased me, hands grabbing at my full thighs to keep them spread wide. I looked down and suddenly an insecurity reared its head again. About two years ago I had stopped shaving in my intimate area, only trimming it a little, cause it irritated my skin too much and the last time I was about to get some, the guy called me disgusting. Wooyoung was currently watching me like a starved man in front of a feast, but still I nervously covered myself with my hands. His eyes flicked up to me, questioning, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” was all I said, mad at myself that I couldn’t even properly get out why I was suddenly so uncomfortable, and he looked at me all confused. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, but then realisation lit up his eyes and he moved to stand up from the couch, “Did you change your mind? You know it’s okay to tell me.” I looped my legs around his waist to pull him back to me and he fell forward with an “oof”. This pressed his erect cock to my core as he held himself up with his hands right by my head and we both moaned at the contact. My legs kept encouraging him to grind into me and for a moment we both just breathlessly moved against each other, Woo releasing little moans and sighs into the heated air between us, and I watched his half-lidded eyes slowly become hazy with pleasure, utterly fascinated.

“So I guess no changing of minds,” he chuckled on a small groan as his hips started thrusting a little harsher against me, losing all rationality and just chasing pleasure. “No, nothing like that,” I whispered back and pulled him for a kiss for the first. As soon as our lips touched, we started hungrily devouring each other, moaning into each other’s mouths and our hands grabbing onto each other desperately. I ended up helplessly grabbing onto his back and most probably leaving red scratches in my wake.

After a moment Woo pulled away, sat back on his heels again and I whined and tried to pull him back, leading him to laugh at me once more; but his fingers went straight for my pussy, spreading it open and sliding through the wetness there. As if placated, I immediately stopped whining and arched my back more, begging for his touch.

“What was that about before?” he asked slightly breathless and I could see he was being serious, even though his finger started slowly circling my clit and playing around. I could barely concentrate on explaining as I was too busy drowning in the liquid pleasure spreading through my entire body.

“Just a little… hng- a little insecure about- about my hair,” I answered while writhing around, simultaneously wanting more and hoping he’d stop so that I could explain properly. His eyes immediately flicked down between my legs just as his finger slid down and slowly slipped into me. I moaned loudly, hands grabbing and squeezing the couch. His gaze was trained on my hole as he pumped his finger in a few times and then quickly slid in a second one.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he whispered, still watching his fingers slowly fucking into me, his other hand going to squeeze his erection still tenting his sweats. My mouth was hanging open, eyes unfocused, noises just pouring out as I was finally feeling full for the first time. But then suddenly he pulled his fingers out and focused on me again. I actually sobbed out, trying to close my legs to keep his hand from leaving, but they were still kept spread by his hips.

“Why would you be insecure about it?” Wooyoung whispered and it took me a moment to remember what we were talking about before. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, sitting between my spread legs with an obvious erection in sweats stained by my wetness from our grinding before. I flushed again and tore my eyes away from his cock, only to catch his smug smirk. I schooled my expression and said: “The last guy I was with called it disgusting. Said he’s not Columbus to be exploring the rainforest.” Wooyoung scoffed.

“What a fucking asshole, who even comes up with shit like that?” he asked incredulously, “Well, clearly he’s a fucking coward, but thankfully… I’ve always liked a little bit of adventure.” He said the last bit all flirty, winking like an absolute sleaze and I just knew something awful was coming. “Besides,” he said while pressing himself into me again, “the rainforest is the perfect place for my anaconda.” I groaned, but this time from pure embarrassment at his jokes while he cackled like a madman. I pushed him away and started to turn around so that I could stand up.

“God, I changed my mind, get off of me,” I said morosely, but he just grabbed my hips and used the momentum to turn me around and get me on all fours, then pressed us together. A bolt of arousal shot through me, and my arms buckled under my weight, my face pressing into the couch while my ass stayed propped up by Wooyoung, pressed into his hips.

“Actually, this is quite a good idea,” he said grinding into me, “I always knew you’d love to be fucked like this.” He bent over me, his chest pressing into my back as he whispered straight into my ear. “Pressed down like this, taken from behind quick, rough and dirty,” he murmured, “Put nicely in your place…” I moaned unabashed, hips pushing back onto his cock on their own and lust making itself painfully known again; in response I could feel Wooyoung’s hands tightening on my skin and suddenly he pulled back to hurriedly tug his sweats down. His hands made their home on my hips, squeezing and pulling, keeping me pressed into him, his cock slotting between my thighs and sliding along my wet pussy. I keened and attempted to grind back, but he held me as his hips pulled back.

“God, please,” I begged, “Please, Wooyoung, give it to me…” He held himself with one hand and I heard him chuckle. “You want it?” he teased. I felt the head of his cock gently teasing around my hole, slightly pushing in and pulling out again. I sobbed exasperated and nodded, face mushed into the couch and hands grabbing onto the throw pillows, my whole body just fucking screaming for his cock to spear me through and through, cunt spasming and tightening around nothing.

“Yes! Yes, please!” I cried and he finally slid inside in one slow thrust. I moaned with relief and sagged into the couch a little, finally getting what I’ve been wanting this whole time. Wooyoung groaned behind me and his hands dug into the skin of my hips, pushing us impossibly together. The feeling of fullness satisfied something wild and primal in me and I found myself struggling to close my mouth, too blissed out to do anything.

He stilled for a moment to get us both accustomed to the feeling, but clearly both of us were too horny to wait even a little longer, because the second I pushed my hips back into him, he started slowly grinding in small circles and it wasn’t long before it shifted into shallow thrusts punching out little gasps out of me.

I only had to whine out “please!” once to get Wooyoung to speed up and pound into me in a much faster pace, to both of our reliefs. Woo’s cool had quickly melted away into a desperate quick pace that had tiny whiny moans spilling out of him. I wasn’t fairing much better, the slide of his cock along my walls from this angle was absolutely heavenly and within few moments had me absolutely losing my already frayed mind. With my head turned away from the cushions I found myself unable to close my mouth, moans freely slipping out and bouncing off of the walls of the living room. Embarrassingly enough I could feel a string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth onto the couch, but I couldn’t force myself to care when Wooyoung was fucking me so good.

It quickly became obvious we were both too horny and turned on to keep any kind of decorum, so we descended into a messy filthy fucking, Woo eventually bending over me and plastering his chest to my back, mouthing and biting at my neck in between grunts and groans. Just thinking about how deliciously I was filled with his cock had me moaning loudly, Wooyoung chuckling as if he wasn’t the same, losing his mind over the tight wet heat enveloping him in a torturous hug.

I found myself quickly spiralling, the molten pleasure pumping through my body at an alarming speed. I reached back and pulled at Wooyoung’s hips, forcing him to shift his leg a little closer and putting his hips a little higher over mine, giving him perfect access to that one spot deep inside of me with every thrust. I lost all control over my body then, taken over by the all-consuming pleasure, the moans coming out higher and louder with every thrust.

“God- ah aah-“ I panted out, hands digging into the pillows looking for any kind of purchase to withstand the onslaught of sensations, “I- I’m cumming so-soon.” Wooyoung giggled breathlessly into my shoulder and his hips suddenly gained back a little more direction, aiming to hit the spot with every slam into me, slowly speeding up until he was railing me like a madman, the wet squelch of my cunt and slapping of skin on skin accompanying the cacophony of our joined pleasure. I wailed, unable to keep up with the mounting climax, almost screaming on every thrust inlaid with little gasps, groans and cut off gibberish pouring out of my mouth. It felt as if my entire body lit up, the bliss becoming a little too much for me to properly register beyond “Oh god! Oh yes!” ringing through every inch of my very being.

Then Wooyoung’s hand moved to my tit again and squeezed and pinched the pierced nipple few times, even giving it some light slaps. My whole body seized up on a lightning strike of pleasure and the orgasm hit me like an actual truck, getting thrown over the edge so unexpectedly and with such force that I gave one last wheezing cry, mind blanking out and all I could register was the white ecstasy pouring through me, out of me, as if my entire body was made out of it, every nerve screaming with it.

Distantly I registered Wooyoung’s startled cries and moans, his hips jerking against mine quickly and erratically, his hands back on my hips tightening until I could feel his nails biting into my skin and was sure I’d have a nice set of imprints for at least the rest of the day. Then he stilled over me, cock pushed as deep inside as it could go, pulsing and throbbing as the cum poured out in thick spurts. His deep groan of satisfaction reverberated through my whole body since he was still pressed into my back tightly, letting me enjoy the moment with him.

As if invisible strings were cut, we both collapsed into the couch and hazily I realised I only stayed upright because Wooyoung was holding me so he could fuck me harder. After few minutes my mind slowly started coming back, body tiredly catching up, registering the pleasurable ordeal it just went through. I could feel my pussy throbbing, hot and wet from being thoroughly fucked and filled with Woo’s release, my hips hurting from the pounding. I was almost expecting to see bruises all over me.

For a few moments only laboured breathing was heard through the room as we both recovered, the haze gradually lifting, allowing us to come to terms with what had just happened between us. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It may have been because I was still lying boneless, unable to speak from the force of the orgasm with Wooyoung’s softening cock still wedged deep inside of my pussy, but I found myself quite comfortable squished into the couch, feeling his shallow breaths in the crook of my neck and his thumping heart against my back. I wondered if he could feel mine, as it was beating just as wildly.

But the comfy silence was broken by the man himself, when he whistled and said: “Wow, I had no idea you could do that.” There was a little teasing undertone to his statement, but mostly I could detect only giddy wonder and pride.

“Do what?” my words still a little slurred, because I was still recovering the functions of my brain and fighting sleep, so deeply sated I could barely hold a full thought.

“Squirt,” Woo stated matter-of-factly, his hands beginning to gently caress my sides to help me come down. “Huh?” I said eloquently and turned to look at him. He just gave me a soft grin, eyes squinting in joy as he took in my state. “I did what?” the question was more rhetorical and I wasn’t even really talking to Wooyoung, rather I started to squirm trying to look down as if my pussy held the answer. And in some way it did. When I managed to lift up my hips a little, my whole body protesting and Wooyoung behind me grunting at the jostling of his soft cock, hands digging into my hips to try and hold me still, I saw that the couch beneath us was absolutely soaked. Slight panic seized me, I didn’t even know why, it was just a natural reaction of my tired brain to the information that apparently Wooyoung, my best friend, had made me squirt for the first time in my life, all over Seonghwa’s lovely sofa. Well, at least it did explain why the orgasm had been so fucking intense, feeling as if the soul left my body and astral projected into a parallel universe.

The squirming dislodged Wooyoung from me and a splat of his cum joined the already huge stain on the furnishing. Now I winced, realising that there was no way either of us was surviving this. Unceremoniously I plopped back down into the mess and turned to Wooyoung, who was sweaty and rosy-cheeked, watching me with amusement.

“Seonghwa is going to fucking murder us,” I muttered tiredly, already back to fighting sleep off now that I was lying again. I let my eyes fall shut and only heard Wooyoung’s answering laugh, only felt him get up from the couch and gently roll me over on my back. There was shuffling, rustling of clothes and footsteps around the living room, but I couldn’t find the strength to look at what was Woo doing, letting myself drift on the high and the aftershocks that were still coursing through me.

Wooyoung was humming somewhere in the apartment and then there was a gentle touch on my hip. I whined but let him do what he needed. A warm wet towel was pressed onto my stomach lightly in lieu of warning and I slowly opened my legs again, feeling the strain and the burn that just hurt so good. Woo tenderly cleaned me up with soft unhurried strokes, then helped me sit up against the pillows to try and put some clothes back on me.

I blearily opened my eyes and blinked at him. Wooyoung was kneeling on the floor in front of me wearing only his sweats and holding his black tee. When he saw I was back in the land of living, he slowly pulled it over my head and helped my arms into the sleeves. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from his sudden softness, thoroughly enjoying this after-care, suddenly found myself overtaken by the violent need to cuddle and sleep it off, so I was just about to suggest that, when he suddenly sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him. I let myself be man-handled with only a slight surprised yelp, but suddenly standing I realised my legs still weren’t in working order, if my shaking buckling knees were anything to go by, so I just grabbed onto his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t let me fall.

He didn’t. Another nicely warm towel was now wiping my butt of anything I had been sitting in, his hand gently patting it before putting me back onto the couch in the area that was dry.

I wanted to sleep, but I was too amused by the picture of Wooyoung standing in front of the huge wet stain with a deep thinking expression on his face, wracking his brain for anything to do about it. When a giggle escaped me, suddenly his eyes were on me with a mischievous glint.

“You made the mess and now you laugh at me when I’m trying to save our lives?” he asked jokingly, amusement lacing his tone. I giggled again and curled around one of the pillows, fully committed to watching the comedy unfold. Wooyoung just sighed and looked at the couch as if it murdered his first-born.

“I gotta come up with something before-“ his voice was cut off by the door suddenly opening and a commotion coming in. There were three voices happily chattering something and I could recognise the guys from that. With terror I met Wooyoung’s eyes the moment we registered Seonghwa as one of the voices. Before any of us could even move a muscle, the three men walked into the room and promptly froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit!” It was San who shouted that, but we were focused on the cacophony of emotion going through Seonghwa’s face seconds before he cried out “MY COUCH!!” on the top of his lungs. There was genuine anguish and betrayal in his voice before his eyes redirected from the stain to us with pure fury.

“Okay! Time to take a shower!” Wooyoung shouted and pulled me up, but ended up supporting my entire body when my knees buckled and I was balancing on shaking legs like a new-born fawn. From this angle I could see the pure amusement and approval on San’s face right next to the disgusted traumatised Yeosang. I blushed furiously and let Wooyoung drag me off to a bathroom, where he sat me gently on the toilet.

“I’m going back out,” he whispered with determination as if he was about to walk into a battlefield, leaving his wounded comrade in the safety, knowing there was only death outside. I snickered at him and he theatrically waved at me from the door, before walking out and shutting it behind him.

I could still fairly clearly hear everything go down though, especially when only moments later Yeosang popped in to give me my clothes and stuff I left on the table and didn’t close the door fully after him. My phone was vibrating like crazy, which could only mean San was already blessing the group chat with all the piping hot tea. I unlocked it and clicked on the notifs.

Mountain man: lolol woo and y/n fucked on the couch and completely ruined it

Princess: ew fuck you wooyoung

Muscle baby: i’ll never fucking use the living room again

Brat: 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

The situation unfolding in chat was interrupted by the scene that was going on in the living room in the real time.

“Calm down, I’ll think of something,” Wooyoung’s voice carried through, trying to console Hwa only to be followed by another shriek of “BUT MY COUCH!!”.

“Wow Wooyoung, I really thought better of you,” Sannie teased, adding oil to fire and I could clearly hear his laughs. No signs of Yeosang, but he was probably just standing there watching it all go down.

“I spent months picking it out!” the level of hysteria was steadily rising in Hwa’s voice and I really slowly started fearing for Woo’s life. “I’m gonna have it dry cleaned or something,” the said man offered only to be met with more shrieking.

“You better fucking throw that thing out, there’s no way I’m sitting on it after this,” San added very unhelpfully to the conversation, “especially since I saw the state of it.” There was a beat of silence during which I imagined Wooyoung was throwing daggers at San with his gaze for stirring more shit into it.

“I’ll buy a new one,” was his final plea and while it was met with some more grumbling and fake-crying, I could hear the situation calming down.

Captain: what the fuck is happening there when i’m not home

Mountain man: fornication

Demon angel: disgusting

M o t h e r: MY COUCH

M o t h e r: my amazing couch in the perfect shade of blue that i was looking for

M o t h e r: DEAD AND DEFILED

Puppy: i’ll help you look for a new one, hyung

Mountain man: wooyoung already agreed to buy a new one since he was the cause of the *suspiciously* large stain

Captain: no details

Captain: never any details

Captain: first rule of fight club

xoxo from hell: 🤔🤔

xoxo from hell: i think

Princess: oooh she breaks her silence

xoxo from hell: that a certain man here in this chat should rather shut up considering last week i walked in on him fucking a girl on the kitchen table

Brat: oop-

Mountain man: Y/N

Mountain man: NO

Demon angel: 🤮

Muscle baby: RIGHT WHERE WE EAT???!!!

Puppy: eat pussy apparently

Princess: nice

Captain: don’t encourage him

“MY KITCHEN TABLE?!” Seonghwa’s scream sounded through the flat just as Wooyoung slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a wide grin. Distantly I could hear San’s pleading and general chaos as Hwa no doubt started raining fury upon him.

“Nice save,” Wooyoung smirked at me and started ridding us of clothes so we could finally take the shower we both desperately needed. The feeling of the hot water hitting my spent and pleasantly aching body relaxed me and I sighed with content. I was basically ready to melt into a puddle right there, sleep slowly rearing its head back up, so I just went with the motion and let Woo soap us both up and rinse us, I let him dry me and put a fresh tee on me that I didn’t even notice he brought with him. I was just watching him with eyes half closed and a doped out smile on my face.

“You’re so cute like this,” Woo muttered as he led me through the hall to his room, amusement and fondness filling his voice with uncharacteristic gentle sweetness. Upon entering his room I immediately beelined for the bed and burrowed myself between the blankets and pillows. Woo rummaged around in his closet for a moment, but it was the only sound I could hear as the apartment suddenly fell almost eerily quiet.

“If I’m so cute now,” I finally mumbled out from underneath the cozy pile, “maybe you should fuck me more often then.” That had Wooyoung turning around to face me with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to do that,” he said devilishly and jumped in with me. It took a bit of shuffling to get into a comfortable spooning position, but we were no strangers to cuddling each other, so it went rather smoothly.

Just as the sleep was claiming me and I felt myself getting pulled under, Woo suddenly perked up and said: “You don’t think the silence means hyung murdered San and now Yeosang’s helping him get rid of the body, right?” I snickered gently, but just swatted at him to lay back down.

“Well, he probably deserved it,” Woo muttered and snuggled in closer to me, letting the exhaustion finally lull us to sleep. And it was the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in a while, even if San potentially paid for it with his life.

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics 💜

A/N: hope you enjoyed yourself, don't be shy I'm always open to comments and asks!!

[gardenofnoah]

it was never ending (pt. 1)

wc: 5.3k (pt. 1 only) tags (whole series): bakugou x reader, oc character death (not reader), grief, healing, found family, getting together, slow (medium?) burn, child rearing, descriptions of pregnancy, morning sickness, friends to lovers, confessions, eventual smut

notes: i've had the idea for this in my drafts for the last 82 years. i blacked out and wrote this whole thing in like 12 hours. fingers crossed for the same motivation demon to visit me in my sleep for part 2.

summary: when the father of your child passes away suddenly, you get by with a little help from your friends (and a really intense Bakugou).

There was a part of you that already knew, as soon as the phone rang. At 7pm, there was no reason to assume it wasn't benign, like your mother calling to confirm what you'd already told her you'd bring to brunch the following weekend.

It wasn't, though. You knew it wouldn't be.

The drive is something that happens to someone else. You see it in flashes. Distantly, you think that it's probably not safe, driving in this state with an infant in the backseat. But you don't really have another option—or at least not one that occurs to you.

A nurse—a young woman, who can't be any older than early twenties—meets you in the lobby. She's practiced in her stoicism. There is no forced smile, no apologies—just a quiet invitation to follow her. She leads you with a hand on your elbow, like she's expecting you, too, to collapse, down a series of hallways that you don't bother to notice. You wonder how long she's been doing this, and what the impact of it might be on someone so young.

A doctor is waiting for you in the room. He immediately launches into a lengthy, medical term-laden explanation of the two hours prior to your arrival. You hear none of it, and you're not even looking at him.

Behind him, a thin sheet covers the body of the father of the child in your arms.

-

You turn your phone off.

You have to, really. The barrage of well-intentioned but poorly timed (and often poorly worded) texts and calls and emails renders the thing unusable.

The number of days that've passed between today and the hospital are of little consequence to you. You've survived on autopilot for however many have passed but the bone-deep exhaustion you feel has spread deeper still. Through the wall, Kaede cries, but there's nothing left in you to get your body to move. Kaede, named so at her father's request.

She was an angry thing, born with no small amount of indignancy at the act of bringing her earthside, against her will. She was red and raging for the first several months of her life, and while it exhausted you, Takeshi had taken it in stride.

"My darling girl," you'd hear him through the monitor, cooing to your daughter as she pitched a fit for the umpteenth time that night, "it won't always be so bad."

How would you convince her of the truth in that now?

The sound of knuckles against your front door jars you out of your half-consciousness. It seems it's only a courtesy, though, because you hear it open immediately after. It dawns on you that you haven't thought to check if it was locked since you've been home. Regrettable, especially now. Some distant alarm ringing in your mind tells you that should be concerned that someone has just entered your home, but there's a wall up right now. In an effort to keep you safe, your brain has blocked out everything.

Through the wall, a voice coos to your daughter. You recognize it as Mina's, and you let out a quiet breath. You brain loosens its grasp for an instant and relief floods you. You'll get up and thank her, when you can.

There is a chorus of voices, telling you that there is more than one person in your house right now, but in the absence of a threat, your eyes flutter closed. The door to your bedroom opens, and you blink hard at the light that seeps in over the massive body in your doorway.

The door closes just as quickly, and in the darkness, the body moves around the room to the other side of the bed—the empty one. There is a weight—your body dips with it minutely, and then settles again. You close your eyes, this time to relieve the sting you feel for the first time since getting home. With another breathing body as its witness, the grief hits you so suddenly you can taste it.

"Katsuki," you whimper, feeling him at your back. Familiar arms reach for you, pull you in.

"Y'r alright," he murmurs, pressing the underside of his jaw into your hair. The pressure on all sides squeezes something loose in you. You suck in a gasping breath, and then it leaves you—broken apart and limp. He holds you while you cry—keeps you there, tethered only to him in this storm.

_

Once the hurt comes, it lingers.

You suppose you can be grateful for that. People do crazy things under the burden of pent up emotion, and you can't afford to come unglued. Not like that, anyway. But while grief pulls you apart in different directions, your friends flit around your peripheral. You'd feel guilty if you could—for not being able to do what you should be able to—but few things get past the mountain of mourning that keeps you pinned to your bed.

They seem to have worked out shifts among themselves. Mina in the morning to get Kaede up and fed, Kirishima and Denki in the evening to get her bathed and ready for bed. Izuku comes around most afternoons with rattle toys and books to keep her engaged, talking and playing to keep her brain developing in your absence. Shielding her from this.

Katsuki doesn't leave.

He sleeps on the couch. Or you assume he does—you've not ventured out of your bed for much of anything. He's in and out of your room during the day, always with little meals or water or reminding you to shower, to get up and walk around the room if you can. It's hard and you cry often, but right now he's not his brash, abrasive self. He's gentler than you've ever seen him, a hand at your back to steady you, his voice low and grounding.

Your relationship with Katsuki is complicated, but not in a bad way. You'd met him, along with the rest of the group, in college. The civilian track at UA landed you a cushy office job—one you promptly turned down due to Katsuki's outrage at you working anywhere that wasn't with him. He'd gotten you a job as a resource coordinator at Jeanist's agency—which was something you found you really enjoyed. Your quirk was less than impressive—similar to Shouto's but not nearly as powerful, you could really only bring tea just shy of a boil. It certainly wouldn't be saving anyone's life, but in this role, you could help. Displaced families needed temporary housing, victims of violence needed access to affordable counseling, the injured needed connected to hearing aids and wheelchairs and prosthetics, ongoing care.

It was hard work, but you felt a certain privilege in being the one to do it. It was an honor to walk along side someone in their most vulnerable moments, and you tried to do it with as much grace and compassion as you could. When Katsuki was big enough to start his own agency, you followed him there. He gave you room to grow, and now, you head a team of community crisis response workers.

You haven't thought about work since the hospital. It's fascinating, how quickly something that matters so deeply to you can leave your mind. Katsuki hasn't mentioned it—in fact, he's not said much of anything, aside from his quiet prompting every few hours. You know that he's only doing what seems so inherent to him, and if you had the energy to, you'd tell him to go home—to take a break. The energy isn't there, though—all you can do is follow his directives to keep yourself alive.

Katsuki has always been protective of you. You're not sure when it started. You'd always been drawn to him, and there was seldom a time when you were somewhere that he wasn't. Your mother took to making up the spare bed for him when you'd come home for weekends and holidays, because it was a guarantee that he'd follow you through the screen door like a shadow. In your third year, she started asking, not so in jest, when the wedding would be.

When you met Takeshi, it was a surprise to everyone. But he was kind, and personable, and the newly-pro heroes adopted him into the fold.

Takeshi knew what Katsuki meant to you, and you were grateful for his patience. While his relationship with you was neatly defined, a specific box in your heart with his name on it—Katsuki was not. He was in everything that you were, and it was something that Takeshi chose not to interfere with. You're certain it was difficult, but he took it in stride.

He really was a kind man.

Within a year of being together, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—but what news filled you with terror, Takeshi received with utter delight. You were only a year out of college and in no way financially stable, but his joy left an impression on you. With each day, your child grew, and so did your tentative excitement. Takeshi was through the roof—as were your heroes.

Katsuki was the one to figure it out first. You'd been absent from a few of the group's weekly dinners at the bar in town. When you finally showed up, dressed in a big hoodie that covered most of you, you'd politely declined all offers of beer and stuck to stealing fries off of his plate.

"You pregnant?" he'd asked, not bothering to lower his voice. You blinked up at him, caught of guard.

"I—uh. Yeah."

You could've heard a pin drop, with how silent the table had fallen. You lowered your eyes—uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed—and reached for another fry. Mina broke the silence first.

"Oh my god!" she'd shrieked, already in tears. The rest of your friends followed in suit, cheering and reaching for you across the table in some strange attempt at a hug, at comfort.

You'd looked back up to Katsuki, who'd been strangely quiet. His eyes held a question—something undeniably concerned.

"It's okay," you told him, smiling softly. Squeezing his knee under the table, you couldn't miss how tense the muscle felt under your hand. "Honest."

_

A month crawls by, and you find that you can't sleep in your bed anymore.

After a few, agonizing hours of tossing and turning, and pointedly avoiding the other side of the bed, enough is enough. You stumble in the dark to the living room, trying your hardest to be quiet. It's your sniffling that wakes him up.

"Y'alright?" slurred, endearing. It would make you smile if you weren't crying. You shake your head, though his eyes aren't open to see it.

"Move over," you whisper, already pulling the blanket out from under his hip. Katsuki shifts, rolling to his side and lifting an arm for you to slot yourself underneath.

His heart beat, steady and slow, taps against your temple. You close your eyes and imagine the shape of it—the chambers that expand and contract and keep him alive. The wave of gratitude is immense and sudden and brings another sting to your eyes.

He doesn't go back to sleep—you can tell by his breathing.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, watery and broken. The arm around your waist tightens.

"Enough." His voice is gravely with sleep, but that's not all that's there. There's an edge to it, and you know that he's worried. "Try t'sleep."

_

Takeshi had made it a habit to talk with Kaede before she was born.

Each night, he would shuffle down the bed and speak softly to your growing stomach, filling her in on the events of the day.

"We wanted to go on a picnic today, but you made your mother sick." He'd pat your belly, shaking his head with a tsk. "That wasn't very nice, little girl."

Pregnancy was hard. You'd wished to be like those women that glow—that love being pregnant, that feel all connected to their bodies and the earth and the universe and whatever—but it was awful. Your ankles swelled and your back ached and you were sick all of the time.

Takeshi worked a 9-5 job outside the city, so Katsuki would stop by to check on you. It became something like a routine. You'd spend all morning throwing up, and then Katsuki would stop by and spend most of the afternoon here, feeding you anti-nausea medication and small bites of food (you'd really only wanted toast, which would launch Katsuki into a several minute tirade about how you'd kill yourself and the baby if you didn't eat a god damned vegetable. This was also part of your routine).

Katsuki's quirk was surprisingly helpful. It took some convincing ("You're not going to fry the baby Katsuki, Jesus Christ,"), but you found that if you had a layer between you, his hands could act as a high-powered heating pad. He'd sit behind you on the floor, one hand on your lower back, the other scrolling through his phone. You'd keep your head between your knees to stave of the nausea.

"You nervous?"

It was the first time he'd really asked. You rested your cheek on your knee, looking back to catch the blonde spikes of his hair in your peripheral.

"Honestly? Yeah. Really nervous."

He'd hummed, something noncommittal and gruff. You let the silence stretch on for another moment before breaking it again.

"I'm worried I'm going to poop on the table."

He'd snorted, and you could feel the eye roll from behind you. "That's what y'r worried about?"

"I mean, yeah. And the possibility of irreparably fucking up my child, I guess."

He'd gone quiet again, and you'd let your eyes close. Content for the moment.

"You'll do fine," he'd said, too quiet for him. The heat spread wider, his other hand joining the first at the small of your back. Kneading softly. "Kid's got a good mom."

_

She sits in front of you now, her chunky legs kicking wildly inside the cloth seat of her jumper. You watch her little toes feel out the ridged bottom, curling around the textures. It might be the first time since Takeshi died that you have really spent time with your child.

Kaeda grunts around the teething ring in her mouth, gurgling happily as Mina sits next to her—pink fingers pressing light up buttons on the tray to catch your daughter's eye. It works for a few seconds, but you sniff, and Kaeda's eyes find you.

"Dah!" the teething ring goes flying as she reaches for you, her head not quite catching up to the jerky movements of her body.

You smile at her, and the stretch of it feels foreign. "Hi, my baby."

It's effort, but you stand, reaching to grab under her armpits and hoist her out of her seat. Her fingers tangle in the strands of your hair. She seems bigger—heavier than she was before. It makes your chest ache. She sits on your hip as you spin her slowly, a sort of sashay around the perimeter of the rug.

"My big girl. Have you had fun with Mina?"

Katsuki watches you with lazy interest from his spot on the couch. Mina immediately busies herself with another task—folding blankets, cleaning up toys. You don't waste your breath telling her she doesn't have to. You'd already tried once, and she waved you off like a pesky fly.

"I'm not doing this because I have to, honey," she reminded you, not bothering to look up from pulling clothes out of the washing machine. "I want to."

At seven months, Kaeda has started to crawl. Or, sort of. It's more like an army crawl, with her little legs propelling her, in a way, across the ground. She gets antsy in your arms, and fusses to be put down.

"I hear ya, I hear ya," you murmur softly, bending to guide her to the soft ground. "Go nuts."

She does, squirming her way across the rug—right to Katsuki. She reaches where his arm hangs over the edge of the couch—and gives it a good, solid smack, her little palm splayed open across his skin.

"What th—y'little brat—"

He peers over the couch at her, and she squeals, clearly enamored by the game she's forced him into. She tries it again—winds up, determined, with her arm up by her head—but he snatches it up before it lands. This time it's a screech that leaves her, all of the air pushed out of her lungs to make room for the belly laugh that she dissolves into when he makes a big show of eating her grubby little fingers.

It was never a surprise to you that Katsuki was so good with Kaede. It was unexpected, though, how much he wanted to be around her. You'd asked about it once, after spending several moments watching him carry her around like a football and seemingly enjoying it, and he'd only shrugged.

"She's cooler than you, so."

You'd laughed, only a little indignant, shoving him lightly. He'd hissed at you to be careful, don't you see the fuckin' baby here, which made you laugh harder. It was absurd, this wall of a man toting around a tiny, slobbering infant.

She was just as enamored with him. She would seek him out anytime he was in her line of vision, often fighting her way out of your grasp to get to him. It reminded you of the way cats seem to flock to the one person that doesn't like cats—she'd picked the meanest looking man in the room and latched on.

Like mother, like daughter, you suppose.

_

"Do you have a name picked out?"

It was late—your head hung off the edge of the bed, which seemed to be the only position that didn't send acid reflux straight up your throat, oddly enough. Takeshi sat up at the other end, your feet in his lap while he pressed his thumbs into the soles of them.

"No," you told him honestly, "truthfully, I'm drawing a blank."

He'd hummed, hands moving up to get at your swollen ankles. "What about Kaede?"

"Kaede," you rolled the syllables around in your mouth, testing the shape of it. It felt nice. "How come?"

"I just—want her to be strong." It was thoughtful as it left him, hanging around in the air above your heads. "I want her to be like a maple tree."

"Like a tree," you repeated dryly, making him snort.

"You know! Like, rooted and strong. But able to change and sway in the wind, all that."

"Wow," you breathed, smiling, "you are so corny."

He sputtered, trying to defend himself, "It's not corny—!"

"Alright, alright," you reached down to pat the duvet, trying to placate him from afar, "Kaede. I like it."

_

Katsuki was the first one in the room after Kaede was born.

It was—unconventional—and you were made well aware of that by the open gawking of the nurses, but Takeshi didn't mind. You felt some guilt, fueled by the reaction of those around you, and told him as much.

"I'll have the rest of my life to hold her," he'd said. "I'll go grab him."

How sad it was to remember that moment now.

You'd closed your eyes for only a moment before you were stirred by a familiar hand on the crown of your head. You'd blinked and were startled to find him visibly concerned.

"You look like shit," he'd said, tilting your head to each side, as if to check for injury. It made you smile.

"Yeah, well, you push a watermelon out of the smallest orifice in your body and let me know how you feel."

He'd gagged, which made you laugh, which hurt.

"Oh, don't do that," you exhaled, long and controlled, "Everything hurts."

He'd gone quiet for a moment, watching you shift and settle back into the bed, wires and leads twisting and clanging off the plastic railing.

"Y'r okay?"

It made you smile. "I am. She's so beautiful, Kat. I can almost forgive her for totally wrecking me on the way out."

As if on queue, the child in question let out a grunt from her spot in the little plastic cradle—moving like a grub, swaddled. He looked at you for another long moment before rising to see for himself. He stopped, too far from the crib, and bent at the waist for a better view. You snorted.

"You can get closer, Katsuki. It's fine."

Another step toward her and he'd stopped again, clearly maxed out on his own comfort. The smile pulled at your cheeks so tightly that it ached.

He looked back at you, and then again to her. It was comical, how fascinated he'd seemed by the tiny person in front of him. And then, over his shoulder—

"You shit the bed?"

You groaned, bringing your hand up to cover your face, mindful of the IV. "I think I did."

His laugh was a crackling thing, echoing around the sterile walls of your room, and Kaede didn't stir at all.

_

When you step foot outside, it's immediately apparent how long it'd been since you last did.

It's a sort of sensory overload—the bright light and the birds and the passing cars and the knowledge that someone has been keeping up with your lawn while you rotted away inside.

From the shaky lines that cut into the grass at odd angles, you have a hunch it was Denki.

Mina accompanies you to the mailbox, as requested. Her arm, strong and assuring, looped through yours as she all but drags you down the short drive to the edge of the road.

You open the box, and immediately shut it.

All of it is for Takeshi.

"Oh sh—sugar," Mina hisses, as if you were not an adult with a fully formed (and often colorful) vocabulary. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't think about that."

You shake your head. It's an inevitable thing that you don't have the energy to waste the tears on. "Will you sit with me?"

You end up on the porch swing, the metal springs above your head creaking with each suspended shove of your toe off the porch. It's a nice day, you think, trying hard not to find that particularly egregious.

Inside, you hear the squeal of your daughter, followed by the grumbling of Katsuki. It sounds a bit like a lecture that Kaede seems to think is hilarious. Another laugh—this time Denki.

"I'm really glad you're all here," you say eventually, quiet under the buzz of the world around you. "I know it's hard to put your own lives on hold."

She reaches for you, threading your fingers together and pulling them into her lap. "It's not hard at all. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. I know the boys feel the same."

You lean your head against her shoulder, the gentle swaying lulling you somewhere else—on a beach, maybe. With the wind in your hair and salt on your lips. Anywhere but the home that your child's dead father haunts.

"Has Bakugou left at all?"

You snort. "I don't think so."

She sighs, shaking her head. You can hear the smile in it. "He's a real mother hen, that one."

You smile, feeling fond. A mother hen, and your protector.

The breeze turns colder, and Mina shivers. You focus your quirk into the hand she holds—the first time you've used it in quite some time.

She sighs. "God, that's nice. Way better than Blasty's in there."

Her chin presses into the crown of your head when she opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it again. Suddenly she's a little tense, like she's trying to build up her nerve.

"You can say it," you offer gently.

"I was just wondering if you'd stay here."

You've thought about it. It's been hard not too, with the way you can barely get yourself to open your bedroom door at this point. You'd spent every night on the couch with Bakugou since that night.

"No." You speak quietly, as if it's a secret between you. It feels strange to say it out loud. You think, if Takeshi is lingering, you don't want him to hear this. "I just—I don't know where to go. We'd planned to raise her here."

Here, in the home that you love. In the home that you can't bear to spend one more night in.

"Did he have..." She trails off, reconsidering. "I mean, did you get a..."

"Yes," you say, already knowing what she's asking. "I was paid out last week. I put all of it away in an account for Kaede." You sigh, sitting up to straighten out the kink that now exists in your neck. "With my job, we're fine. It's more...the principle of the thing. This is her home."

Mina squeezes your hand gently. "She's a baby, honey. She won't remember it. This was your home."

You tilt your head back, willing away the sting of fresh tears and the irritation you feel at having done so well today until this point.

"Yeah," you sniff, closing your eyes, "it was."

_

Time passes in waves. Slowly, creeping, and then all at once.

The longer you're in the house, the more you realize you can't stay. You are certain of it, the first time you're left alone.

Katsuki had stepped out to grab dinner. You'd all but shoved him out the door, assuring him that you'd be fine for the 20 minutes it took to pick the food up.

"Y'need anything, you call." It was the fourth or fifth time he'd said it to you.

"Alright, alright," you tell him, trailing down the front steps behind him. "I will, I promise."

When you shut the door behind you again, there's a feeling of lethality to it—a debilitating silence that you haven't heard in four months.

You don't want to go any further into the house. You do, only to grab Kaede, and then you're right back outside. It starts to rain, and it feels fitting. You sit under the awning behind your daughter as she sticks her toes out into the drizzle, curling them with each drop that falls on her skin. You think about how overwhelming it must be as a baby—how new everything is.

It's less than 15 minutes later when Katsuki pulls into the driveway. He's out of his truck and in front of you in record time, frowning at you like he already knows something's wrong. Kaede reaches for him, and he scoops her up like it's muscle memory. He waits for you to talk. A moment passes.

"I can't be here anymore," you whisper, shaky. He looks at Kaede for a long moment, like she could have something offer on the topic.

"Alright," he says, reaching for the front door with his free hand, "pack a bag."

_

It takes you longer than you thought it would. You'll be back—you have to come back, because you can't take everything right now—but it feels final. The beginning of the true end. There's a framed picture of you and Takeshi at your baby shower on your nightstand. You consider taking it with you—instead, you turn it face down and move on.

By the time you manage to shove a hoodie, some shorts, a few pairs of underwear and your toiletries into a bag, Katsuki has already packed two bags for Kaede and put her in her carrier. You just look at him, wholly dumbfounded.

"You good?"

You look at him for another beat. "Yeah, fine."

_

The drive to Katsuki's isn't long. You follow him in your car, not wanting to leave it in your driveway. Kaede is with Katsuki, something you didn't fight him on.

You spend 10 of the 15 minute drive flipping through radio stations before you finally turn it off. You're left in silence, and you're now well and truly alone for the first time since Takeshi died.

You suck in a breath, trying to dislodge the thing that has lived in your chest everyday since.

"You knew something was wrong," you say, out loud, to no one. "You knew something was wrong, and you didn't tell me."

You picture him next you—mouth opening to respond, to defend himself. You beat him to it.

"It was preventable," your heart breaks again. "There was no reason—"

You'd tried to keep this at bay—the knowledge that Takeshi's death was meaningless. You hadn't heard a word the doctor said, but you'd read the pathologist's report. It was too hard, too much to process with everything else that needed tended to, but your brain seems to take advantage of every quiet moment you get.

"You left her without a father," your breath comes ragged, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to make up for the tears that threaten to block out your vision, "you—you left me,"

With impeccable timing, no sooner than you pull into Katsuki's apartment complex and park do you dissolve completely, curling in on yourself in your seat. It's crushing, this grief and this anger together inside a body that surely cannot hold all of it.

You don't see Katsuki when he approaches your driver's side door. You don't see him when he hesitates, one arm holding Kaede and the other outstretched as if you grab hold of you and pull you from your suffering himself. You don't see when he decides against it—when he turns around to leave you to do what you need to do on your own.

_

In a way, you start to feel lighter. Like something has shifted, like the boulder in your chest has fragmented just enough to let a breath through.

You get Kaede up on your own today. You let yourself linger over her, leaning on the side of the pack-n-play to watch her as she sleeps. Her little eyelashes frame her round cheeks, fluttering with whatever dream she's in the middle of.

The upturn of her nose, the slope of her forehead—these are things she gets from Takeshi. The curve of her eyes, the shape of her fingernails—those are yours. She is the most even mix of two people you’ve ever seen, and something about that makes losing Takeshi a little easier. It would’ve been a lot harder if she had simply taken his face. 

She stirs as if she’s felt your thorough examination. “Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching down to pull her up. She lays her head down on your shoulder, sleepy, and something about it brings tears to your eyes so suddenly that you startle yourself. 

This tiny person that relies on you for everything. This little girl that fits so easily in your arms. She is yours, to keep safe and happy and content. She is a promise you made, both to Takeshi and yourself. She is the thing that will keep you going, even when you’re certain you cannot take another step. She is the thing you have to show up for, no matter what. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” your voice is tiny as it is watery, whispered into her hair, to her already sleeping form. You stand there, in the middle of Katsuki’s spare bedroom, rocking your child and letting the tears fall down in fat drops—and it feels like the most normal thing in the world. “I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

It’s only when you turn your head that you see Katsuki lingering in the doorway. You open your mouth to tell him that you’re alright, but you only manage something wounded, something pathetic and broken and painful. He’s in front of you in an instant, unwinding Kaede from your hold and putting her back into the pack-n-play, still sleeping. It’s only another second before he’s dragging you to him, nearly crushing you to his chest. It pulls another wave of tears from you, because it feels good. To be held, and to be held by Katsuki, who would reduce every source of your pain to ash if he could. He holds you like he means to keep you intact—to put you back together the best he can. The only person who has ever held you like this, meant it like this.

Six months, 13 days, and 11 hours after Takeshi dies, something changes.

part 2 soon. thanks for reading, love u. <3

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Can you plsss do a Carlos smut 😭 one where you act like a brat all day during quali day and you start to irritate him and by the end of the day he like f@&ks you stupid and tells you how much you’ve embarrassed him even though you didn’t and he slaps chokes and all that (i love how you write smut one shots lol)

Embarrassment - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 2439>

warning - smut, under 18s dni, (light) choking, degradation, denial

Qualifying. Arguably the most important part of a race weekend. Sure, the race itself was important since that's where the points come in, but if you don't have a good qualifying, then you don't have a good race. Quite simple, really. 

To be frank, you had wanted Carlos all day, but he wasn't letting you near him, you couldn't even touch him. "Carlos, you have hours until they need you," you whined, pouting at him. 

"I don't see your point," he huffed. You had been pestering him for the past two hours since you had been awake, and it was starting to get onto his nerves. "I need you," you said, sauntering up to him and running your hands across his chest. 

"Not right now, I need to focus," he dismissed you, walking off into the bathroom. If that was how he was going to be, then fine. He could have it his way. For now. 

The car ride to the circuit was the first part of your plan. "Are you in the garage or on the pit wall today?" he asked. You glanced at him, before turning away and training your eyes back on the road. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," he scoffed, knowing he was going to be in for a day of it.

When you arrived, you walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at the fans and reporters. As soon as you got into the garage, you walked away from Carlos, not even looking at him. "I'll see you later!" he called after you, and you could see people giving the two of you skeptical looks. 

You made a beeline straight for the bathroom, taking off the jeans and shirt that you had on and replacing it with the shortest dress you could find out of your backpack. It barely covered your ass as you walked around.

You left the bathroom, strutting around like you owned the place. In the corner, you spotted Charles, doing something on his phone. You saw Carlos talking to his engineer, and his eyes swiftly flicked over to you.

"Hey, Charles," you smiled, leaning on the wall next to him and batting your eyelashes at him. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?" he asked, and you watched his eyes briefly skim over your figure. You bit your lip as you looked at him, spotting Carlos' jaw twitch out of the corner of your eye. 

As you talked to the man from Monaco, you twirled your hair around your finger and giggled at his jokes. His cheeks flushed red every time, and if you weren't with Carlos, he would be taking you back to his hotel tonight. 

"Charles, time to go," Xavi told him, and he looked sad to have to stop the conversation.

"Good luck, Charles. You'll do great, but you always do," you told him, watching as he walked away. "Thanks Y/N," he shouted as he left. 

You took your seat with your headphones over your ears. Carlos was sat in his car, already annoyed at you as it was. Now, seeing you sat in the chair with the tiny skirt of your dress riding over your thighs sent him into an angry spiral. 

He put his poor performance in FP3 was down to him being distracted by you. God knows who could have been looking at you while he wasn't around. God knows who could have been looking at what was his. 

He got out of the car, his team asking what was wrong to warrant a P11 in FP3. It wasn't bad, but not where he should have been. Especially since Charles had come out in P1. "I'll be one second, guys," Carlos said, storming over to where you were talking to Charles.

"Charles, do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" He asked, struggling to hide the fact that he was absolutely livid with you. "Yeah, course," he said, walking away. You touched Charles on the shoulder as a way to say goodbye, before turning your attention to Carlos. 

"What the hell are you wearing?" he spat a you, gripping your wrist tightly. 

"Why, you like what you see?" you smirked, knowing you had already gotten under his skin. 

"No, you're dressed like a stripper," he stated, his nails digging into your skin slightly. 

"Aw, is someone just mad because they came 11th and Charles came 1st?" you teased, putting on the baby voice that he hated.

"I was distracted by my girlfriend parading herself around like a slut," he reasoned, running his free hand through his hair. 

"Call me that again, I liked it," you told him, watching his face contort into an expression of pure lividness.  "Drop the attitude," he commanded, his tone strict and hard. You started to walk away from him as you rolled your eyes, but the grip he had on your wrist was too tight for you to break. 

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" he asked.

"So what if I did?" you said, getting as close to him as possible so he had to look down on you. "Let's not make that a habit," he said as if you were a five-year-old, letting you go as the team started to go to the debrief before qualifying. 

"Behave," he instructed, "And put some clothes on," he finished. 

"Yes, sir," you rolled your eyes at him again, and if he wasn't in a garage full of people, he would have bent you over his car and fucked you until you begged him to stop. 

He figured the best way to actually perform well in qualifying was to put all of his anger towards you into his driving, and he could put it on the first row. That was exactly what he did. It was a Ferrari 1-2, but he missed out on pole to Charles by 2 thousandths of a second, so there was nothing else he could have done. 

When they got out of the car, they were met with the team clapping and smiling for them. As the pair got out of their cars, they were hugged by their mechanics and engineers, glad that they had finally gotten a good result after a while of misfortune. 

You walked up to Charles, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. "Well done Charles! We knew you could do it," you squealed as he lifted you in the air and twirled you around. 

"Y/N, I need to talk to you in my drivers room," he shouted across the garage, and people could tell something was up. You did as you were told, swaying your hips as you walked. 

"What's up?" you asked, innocently. 

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you want people to think you're a slut?" he snapped, slamming the door to the room and blocking it off. "Well at least someone might fuck me because of it," you scoffed, rolling your eyes again for good measure.

"Did you not hear me? Or are you that fucking stupid that you don't know what's good for you? Roll your eyes again and I swear to god," he spat, rushing up to you and pinning you against the wall by your neck. 

His fingers gently squeezed as he spoke, the lack of oxygen flowing to your brain making you smile goofily. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," you mocked, rolling your eyes in an over exaggerated manner.

"Get on the couch," he commanded, releasing his grip on you and pushing you towards the couch slightly. "Oh so you want me now that you're frustrated?" you queried, adoring how much you had agitated him. "Get on the fucking couch," he spat, and you thought it would be best to listen.

Stepping over to the couch, you sat down, the skirt riding over your thighs and revealing everything to Carlos. "Look at you, all pretty in pink," he smirked as the pink lace that was your last, thin barrier between you and the Spaniard. 

You were blushing, looking down at your feet. "Oh, so we're all shy now?" he mocked, keeling down in front of you. "There's no turning back now, bitch," he spat, and you had to admit his attitude was turning you on.

His fingers slithered up the side of your thighs, hooking into the sides of the flimsy material. He pulled them down your legs, slipping them over your heel clad feet and tossing them aside. Without a warning, he hoisted your legs onto either shoulder, gripping them with his hands. 

"So fucking pretty," he breathed against your thighs, placing soft kisses as his lips traveled. "It's a shame you're such a brat," he said. He started nipping the skin with his teeth, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake. 

Finally, you were getting your way, you thought. You had pushed him to the limit, and a day of gallivanting had finally paid off. Every time he lightly sunk his teeth into your skin, it was like a needle stabbing into you with a sharp prick. 

"Now I didn't know you were this desperate," he near on mocked, staring at the effect he had on you. Carlos leaned in, licking a thick stripe up your dripping folds. His tongue gently circled your sensitive bundle of nerve endings, the feeling sending volts of electricity pulsing through your body.

The sensation elicited a moan to escaped you lips, when Carlos pulled away. "For once, you need to keep that goddamn mouth of yours shut," he instructed, earning a nod from you. For once, you would actually do as you were told. 

Carlos attached his lips back onto you, lapping and sucking at all of the right places. Pressure bubbled in your stomach as you tangled your hands in Carlos' hair. Tugging at the strands, you earned a hum of pleasure from him as he brought you so close to release on his tongue. 

"Shit, Carlos, I'm close," you struggled to say, barely able to suppress the moans that had built up in your throat. At your words, he attached his lips around your clit and teased it with his tongue.  "Fuck, I-" you fumbled over your words, so close to release. 

Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Carlos pulled himself away from you, a devilish grin on his face. "You didn't really expect me to let you cum, did you?" he cockily grinned, pushing his dark locks of hair from his face. 

The pressure that had built up slowly, and irritatingly fizzled out, much to your dismay. "Please, Carlos, I'm sorry, I was a bitch," you pleaded, hoping he would crack and give in to your desires, your needs.

"Yes, you were a bitch. A bratty, little, bitch," he seethed, yanking you up off the couch. "Turn around and bend over," he said. You thought if you obeyed his commands that he would let you off.

Before he could let you do as you were told, he slipped your dress over your head in one swift movement. 

You turned around and bent over, holding yourself up with your arms on the back of the couch. "Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, and you could tell he was getting a kick out of seeing you in this compromised position, knowing only he could give you what you wanted. "I want-" you started, but you were cut off by him teasing your entrance with his cock. 

"What do you want?" he pressed. 

"I want you to fuck me," you blurted out, turning over your shoulder to look at him, cocky grin plastered across his face. "God, such a needy slut," he breathed, slipping into you in one movement with ease. 

As he started to rock his hips back and forth, the coil in your abdomen started to tighten again, and it was already so close to snapping. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Sauntering around like that all day. Fucking brat," he spat through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. 

"And flirting with Charles? I knew you were trying to make me mad, but that fucking pissed me off," he rambled, slamming into you harder each time. "You're an embarrassment, you know that? Trying to fuck my friend in front of the whole garage," he seethed, bringing his hand up and swatting your ass. 

You yelped, causing him to do it again until the skin started to sting and turn red. 

"Tell me you're sorry," he ordered, his hand gliding up your back and clasping around the back of your neck. 

"I'm-" you said, but were cut off by the overwhelming pleasure of him squeezing your neck as he picked up his pace. "Tell me you're sorry for being such a fucking slut," he said between thrusts. "I'm sorry," you managed to get out as he squeezed your throat harder. 

"Word for word. I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," he repeated, feeling as your walls were clenching around his dick. "I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," you hardly managed to get out as the stimulation became too much - but in the best way possible. 

Hot, salty tears slipped down your cheeks as silent moans disguised as sobs escaped your parted lips. "Good, wasn't so hard, was it?" he could feel you were on the brink of coming undone, and so could you. The coil was so tight and so close to snapping. Slowly, you felt light tingles spreading through your body, your legs and arms bucking slightly. 

Just as your pleasure was about to hit you like a tsunami, Carlos pulled out, detaching his hand from your neck and pumped himself a few times, spilling himself all over your back. "Carlos, please, fuck," you cried, staring at him through glassy eyes. 

He rode out his high, looking at your tear stained, reddened face. "Go ask Charles if you're that desperate," he menacingly chuckled, pulling his underwear and race suit back up his legs to his hips. "Please, Carlos. Just two minutes," you whined, needing the release.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been such a slut for it all day," he demeaned one last time, "You've embarrassed me enough, don't become desperate," before walking out of the room. "Put some clothes on for fucks sake," he doubled back, staring at you, almost in disgust. 

If he could, he would have watched you squirm for him all day, but he had a job to do. 

A/N - This is my first request, and I hope it was good enough! The third part of 'Baby Fever' is on its way, I promise. It's taking longer than expected. If anyone has any requests in the meantime, you can submit one on my profile. I'm pretty much open to anything!

|masterlist|

[getmeoutofhell]

Ethan Landry x Shy F reader

warnings: mentions of reader getting killed at end

a/n: i tried my best to make this a “shy” reader. i’m terribly sorry if this is not the best.

requested by: @smoothestkoala

it was 1:00pm and you were getting ready to go and visit ethan at his place for the first time.

you guys starting ‘talking’ after you met him at sara’s place a month ago. you were hella nervous since this was your first time ever going to any guys place.

you did have a little crush on him. but you didn’t plan on telling him anytime soon for your own sake.

you headed to your car to head over to ethan and chads place.

gosh your nerves were bad. you didn’t understand why your body acted this way, especially around boys. but now was not the time to complain. hopefully you don’t embarrass yourself in front of him or anyone else today.

you then knock on the door. you waited for about 10 seconds until you heard someone on the other side. “hello? it’s y/n.” you felt a little embarrassed for waiting outside the door, but didn’t wanna think to far into it.

a few seconds later ethan opens the door.

“hey y/n. sorry it took so long i was in the middle of something.” you smiled at him. “no worries it’s okay.” he the opens the door fully to let you in.

“you can come and sit anywhere. make yourself comfortable.” he states to you, trying his best to not be awkward.

you slowly walk over to his couch and have a seat. you then take your phone and sit it next to you on the couch. “so ethan, how have you been?” you ask him, hoping the awkwardness would end.

“i’ve been doing pretty good i guess. how have you been? you go anywhere lately?” he looked at you with curiosity, waiting for a response.

you softly chuckled. “i don’t really go anywhere much. but i’ve been pretty good.” you smiled. “that’s great. would you like some water, pop, or something?”

“yeah i could use some water.” you thought his gesture to give you water was very sweet of him. you watched him get up and disappear behind the corner.

you were strolling on your phone when you saw ethan head back in with two bottles of water. “here you go.” he hands you one, then sits next to you again. “thank you.”

“would you like to watch something on tv? we have netflix.” you looked at him. “yeah sure.”

you ended up staying at ethan’s till around 6 and headed home. you thought he was sweet and kind, and wanted to go back to his place again in the future. your crush on him started to get worse and worse over time as you guys started talking.

*time skip some weeks*

overtime, you stared opening up more to ethan, telling him about you and your past and what you wanted to do in your future. he always listened to everything you told him, giving you hugs and words of comfort.

you eventually started heading over to his place every weekend, sometimes spending the night if he asked.

it was now around 9, and you were saying your goodbyes to ethan, getting ready to head home.

“i’ll text you later.” ethan told you.

“okay. thanks for letting me come over again. i really appreciate it.”

“you’re welcome beautiful.” you felt your face heat up, and your stomach turn at his kind words. before you walked out, ethan walked up to and gave you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. you had the ugliest grin on your face as you walked to your car. maybe you’ll confess your feelings sooner than you thought.

*ethan’s pov*

after y/n left i went and sat back down on the couch. i took a long deep breath, and sighed. since the first time i saw her, i knew i would have a hard time. she’s a beautiful women. full of love and happiness, and i have to take it all away.

i feel my stomach turn in disgust thinking of the fact that this was all a set up. apart of our plan. she has no idea. no clue. that her days are coming to an end.

i can’t do it, i won’t do it. she’s the first girl i felt that actually likes and cares for me. i have to tell my dad i can’t do it. i can’t take my loves life.

@smoothestkoala i’m so so sorry is this is not what you wanted. i’m trying to get better, and thank you for requesting!! ❣️❣️

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 3

Summary: Arguments with your boyfriend leave you irritated.

Word count: 1.4k

Your feet were soaking wet by the time you walked into the apartment building. It was supposed to be a sunny day. It was supposed to be a nice day. But you had to go and have a huge fight with your boyfriend, didn’t you.

You stood in the lobby, raindrops dripping from your hair down your back, onto the floor. Your jacket only protected your torso, so your legs were soaking wet too. 

You wrung your hair out and flicked the residue water onto the floor, not caring about the mess. Floor needed to be cleaned anyway. 

The sound of rain hammering even harder on the glass got your attention and you turned to watch, thankful you made it back before it got this bad. Though you wouldn’t have had to walk at all if your boyfriend hadn't driven off without you in a hissy fit.

The rain was so loud you didn’t hear the footsteps down the stairs, didn’t notice the figure until he was standing adjacent to you.

“Got caught in the rain?” Bucky asked. You glanced up, noting the plain black cap he was wearing today. 

“Uh, yeah. Wasn’t supposed to rain today.”

He nodded, his eyes roving down your body briefly. You knew full well you looked like a drowned rat right now.

“You going out in it?”

He nodded again, then opened the door, the roar of the wind even louder now.

“Your boyfriend’s back, by the way,” he said as he walked out into the downpour.

That caught you off guard. How did he even know that… What was Justin doing in there that was that loud?

You sighed, then climbed the stairs. It had been a month since the lift broke, and still no one had fixed it. You unlocked the door to an eerily silent flat. You kicked off your wet shoes and hung your jacket over the radiator, then walked into the living room. The car keys on the coffee table and leather jacket on the sofa show Justin was indeed home.

You peaked your head into the bedroom, finding him asleep. You pursed your lips, then walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa. No point waking him up and adding additional tension.

Lying in bed later that night, you ruminated on the events of the day.

When you cooked dinner, he acted as if he hadn’t driven off without you earlier that day. 

Correction, you both acted as though it hadn’t happened.

But it did. He had driven off without you, leaving you to walk for two miles back to the apartment. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t far, but it was the principle. You only went to that bloody park with him in the car because he wanted to carry so much damn food for your picnic. 

You could have gotten an Uber. You should have confronted Justin about his actions. And he shouldn’t have driven off without you like that.

But neither of you mentioned it. Not until three days later, over dinner.

“You fancy going to Thorpe Park this weekend?” he asked as he passed you the bowl of salad you’d prepared, though he’d never touch. 

“Yeah? Okay!” you smiled. “Been a while since we’ve been there.”

“If I remember correctly, last time someone got a bit too scared on Saw,” he teased.

“I forgot about the drop!” you chuckled. “At least I’m not afraid of heights.”

“At least I’m not afraid of the dark,” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least I remember to wear sun cream so my skin doesn’t peel off midway through the day in front of all the other guests.”

“Careful, missy,” he joked. “Or I’ll leave you behind in The Walking Dead ride. All alone, in the dark, with the zombies.”

“Uh huh. Sure you would,” you said sarcastically, grinning. “Just don’t drive off without me again, yeah?” you said playfully. His answering glare was anything but playful, and your smile immediately dropped. “It wasn’t very nice… the other day...”

“I know,” he said shortly, picking at his food now rather than eating it. The sudden shift in mood was jarring, to say the least.

“Just…” you trailed off. You hated these confrontations, especially during dinner.

“Just what, Jess?” he asked, putting his cutlery down sharply. 

“Why did you do it?”

That question started an argument that lasted over an hour. You tried to keep your voice down, but Justin did not. You tried to keep your tears at bay, but they spilled down your cheeks anyway. You tried to keep your panic attack from happening, but in the bathroom later that night you were standing clutching the sink silently hyperventilating as Justin hogged the living room to game, wanting ‘space’.

Yet, by 3 am, when you were lying in bed, dried tear stains on your cheeks and a pile of tissues on the floor, he still kissed your shoulder goodnight. He still wrapped his arms around you and cuddled you before drifting off to sleep. And for some reason, that seemed to make things alright… almost.

When you went to the gym that morning, sleep deprived and puffy eyed, you didn’t immediately notice Bucky also in the room. Not until you’d warmed up on the stair machine and stepped off, did you spot him.

“Oh,” you blurted out, pulling a headphone off your ear. You were unable to help yourself from checking him out, his workout clothes a lot tighter than what you’d previously seen him in. Though the pair of gloves was an interesting choice of attire. Maybe the guy was a germophobe, or had eczema. “Hi,” you murmured.

“Hi,” he replied, his expression unreadable. You weren’t in the mood to talk, so you gave a little smile, put your headphones back on, and carried on with your workout. Though with someone as attractive as Bucky in the room, it proved difficult. You were hyper aware of your proximity to him at every machine you used. Self conscious of any sounds of exertion that escaped your lips. And mildly embarrassed by the sweat trickling down your back during an intense session. Your workout ended up taking longer than usual. You flashed him another quick smile when you left the room, and ran back up the stairs to the apartment to find unexpectedly an awake Justin.

“Morning?” you said, a little confused.

“You were at the gym for a while,” he commented as he munched on a slice of toast.

“And you’re up early,” you replied whilst stripping out of your gym clothes to rush into the shower.

“Thought I’d catch you before you left for work,” he said, following you into the bathroom.

“Oh. Well, I’m running late.”

“What took so long?”

“I’m not sure, just got distracted,” you replied as you quickly scrubbed the sweat from your body. You noticed Justin’s gaze not quite at your eye level, then rolled your eyes and pulled the shower curtain across.

“I was enjoying that,” you could hear the grin in his voice.

“What did you want to catch me for exactly?”

“Things have felt weird since the other night…” he said, sounding uncharacteristically sombre. You wished he hadn’t picked now of all times for this conversation.

“They have,” you murmured, rinsing the soap suds from your body. 

“And I wanted to apologise.”

You pulled the shower curtain back and grabbed a towel to dry yourself off.

“Apology accepted,” you said. You didn’t have time right now.

“That’s it?” he asked, confused. You slipped past him towards the bedroom.

“Yeah, for now,” you replied as you grabbed your outfit for work and began to get dressed.

“What do you mean ‘for now’? I’m trying to talk to you, Jess.”

“And I’m late for work, Justin!”

He scoffed. “I’m trying to make it up to you, trying to communicate with you. I even put the laundry on for you!” he said defensively. You looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously asking for praise for doing a chore once in a blue moon, that benefited the both of you?

“I put the laundry on every fucking day, Justin," you snapped, furiously doing up the buttons on your blouse now.

“I’m trying to be nice, Jess.”

“I don’t have time! Please can you just let me get ready for work, I’m already late.”

“Shouldn’t have spent so long in the bloody gym then,” he muttered as he stalked out of the bedroom.

You didn’t kiss him goodbye that morning.

[rjncore]

Unexpectedly Yours (Chapter 2)

It was your first day of work but this time, in an unfamiliar environment. The encounter with Yuki still lingers in your mind, but now is not the time to dwell on that. You're here for your job, and your boss trusted you that's why you're here. As soon as you got out of the door of your apartment, you noticed that he was going out as well. But he was wearing casual clothes, unlike the other day when he was wearing his usual training clothes. You tried walking as fast as you could, and it didn't go unnoticed in Yuki's eyes.

He greets you, "Hi! You're in a hurry again today?" as he looks at you. You're still feeling awkward after what happened the other day. But it didn't seem like he was bothered by it at all. You pretended not to hear anything, as you continued walking towards the gate of the apartment complex.

He was still tailing you, and you noticed it. "I'm in a hurry today because of work, so if you don't mind, I'll go now." Yuki was feeling embarrassed, maybe he was overstepping her boundaries already.

"I'm sorry. I was just curious, since you looked bothered by something. You're new here, so I thought... I could help. I've been there before"

Wait, why would he know that I'm bothered? Can he see through people easily? you thought to yourself, but you just brushed it off.

"It's fine. No big deal. Anyways, see you around." you said, as the cab arrived. During the ride, you find yourself pondering about what happened earlier. How long can I keep this act? Pretending that I don't know him? Although you're feeling quite bad now, you choose to go ahead with it. You can't tell him you're a fan of him, especially.

The day passed by so quickly and the project you will be working on is quite huge, so you cannot allow anything divert you. Just as you were a few meters away from your apartment, there was him again. He was coming from the parking lot with two bags of groceries on his hands. You quickly turned your glance away from him, as you tried to walk as fast as possible, hoping that he wouldn't notice it. Well, deep inside your mind, you wanted to help him carry the groceries. But you decided to keep up with your act, and pretend that you didn't see him. However, it failed this time around as he approached you.

"Hey. You looked tired today. How's Milan so far?" he asked in a calm manner. You've been trying to avoid eye contact, but you noticed that he's still looking at you.

"Well... It's great but it's tiring too. I'm here for work so yeah" you were fidgeting your hands a lot, and it didn't go overlooked in his eyes.

"I know we just met, but if something is already bothering you, I'm here." You were startled because of what you've just heard, feeling a hint of spark inside you. The way he said it made things even more complicated for you to keep up with this act. Despite this, you continue to try to ignore it. "Y-yeah. Thank you" as you walk again towards your apartment.

The week went by like that, you're trying to avoid him. Whenever you see him, you would hide yourself somewhere so that he won't see you. It's not supposed to be like this, but you thought this is the best way to keep your distance from him. Maybe he just wanted to make friends, you thought. But as someone who just got into this volleyball thing recently, it's hard not to be confused with these so-called parasocial feelings. Absurd as it may sound, but you've been admiring him a lot already even if you just knew about him a week ago. His passion and dedication for the sport, is something that you find endearing. He looks like he knows what he's doing, and who's willing to sacrifice anything for the thing that he loves the most – volleyball. It's puzzling, but you still decided to keep everything lowkey.

It's already Friday, and you heard your workmates talking about their plans for the weekend. You weren't supposed to overheard something, but you did. They were talking about watching a volleyball game. You're already preparing yourself to leave the office, when a workmate gently tapped you on your shoulder.

"Hey, do you have plans this weekend? If you're free, you can come with us and watch volleyball. It's fun, I just got into it too recently" You're thinking about declining, but just as you were about to do so, another workmate of yours joined the conversation. "You're so focused into the project lately. You deserve to enjoy too. And volleyball is a fun sport to watch. Just try to watch and see." You were lost in your own thoughts for a moment, trying to come up with a sensible excuse. Even when it comes to the tiniest decision you've ever made in your life, you're mostly determined, but recently, you were faltering. "Uhm, I'm not sure if I can go, but I'll try" you said, your voice tentative. But your workmate kept on insisting, "You just arrived here a week ago right? Give yourself some time to have fun. You deserve that." After minutes of trying to convince you, you wavered. "Well....fine. But only one game, okay?"

The next day came, it's already the game day. You decided to wear a simple white blouse and black jeans, something that wouldn't be too noticeable. You don't normally wear a cap, but you determined it would be better to wear one this time, so he wouldn't recognize you. You were already by the door of your apartment, when your phone suddenly buzzed. It was one of your workmates. "We're already here, at the Allianz Cloud Arena." Well, you still have time to back out but you already promised that you would go. "Okay. I will be there in 10 minutes" you replied. Few minutes later, you're already in the arena. You suddenly felt your heart beating fast and it's not helping that you and your workmates are sitting quite close to the court. "Why are we sitting so close to the court? you asked to one of them, your voice sounding iffy. "Why? Are you afraid you would be hit by a ball later? your workmate replied with a teasing tone. You shook your head as you turned your attention to the players warming up. You aren't familiar with most of them, so your eyes quickly shifted to him. The way he carries himself on the court — whether he's talking with his teammates or coaches or setting up for a spike, it's gentle yet also intense at the same time.

The game has already started, Yuki is a starter. He scored the first point and the crowd erupted in cheers. You roamed your eyes around the arena, and you noticed that there's a lot of Yuki fans. Some of them are wearing a jersey with his number, or holding a banner with his name on it. You can't help but to cheer with the rest of the audience as well. As the game went on, you're feeling relaxed and comfortable. Whenever Yuki scored a point, you clapped cheerfully with a smile on your face. You observed every movement of him, even his facial expressions whenever he made an error. There's something with the way he plays that makes people drawn to him, and you now felt it too. These didn't go unnoticed in the prying eyes of your workmates.

"Already enjoying it? See, it's fun!" she said to you, but your attention was still on the court. On Yuki, specifically. The tension of the game is heavy now, because of what's at stake. If his team loses here, the season is over for them. The match reached 5th set, with both teams giving their all. His team called a timeout, as their opponent took away the lead from them. During the huddle, Yuki listened intently to the coach's instructions while drinking his water when his eyes quickly shifted to the crowd. The arena was packed, full-house today. The cheers of the audience were loud, he even heard someone shout his name. This gave him extra boost for the rest of that set. But something different stirred inside him as he was about to return to the court. He saw someone familiar in the audience — YOU.

[justmeinadaze]

Saying Sorry Part 3 (Steve X You)

A/N: Look at that utterly adorable sleeping boy <3 Ok, this took me awhile but alas my brain give you this.

Warning: Smut, a dash of angst, and all the fluff, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3378

Steve’s eyes kept glancing over to your empty chair in class as the teacher droned on about things he could care less about. Since that night after the game, he found himself being more lethargic than usual. It had been a couple of months since he talked to you but he did pass you in the hall a few times and, of course, still saw you during P.E. Every time you caught him looking, you would give him a soft smile before focusing on whatever else you were doing. 

He hated that you were being so kind to him. Part of him wished you would go back to glaring at him with disdain filled eyes so he could continue acting like he didn’t care. 

Steve had started seeing a girl he barely liked hoping it would take his mind off you. Jessie was nice enough and definitely pretty. She had this slightly vapid personality though that drove him up a wall but she was what the popular kids considered “acceptable.” 

This was the second day you hadn’t show up and he was starting to get worried. As the bell rang signaling the end of the period, he bolted to the lunchroom searching for your friend.

“Hey. You’re Y/N friend, right?”

Carrie looked up at him in utter confusion. “Yes? Why? Are you and Tommy missing her since you have no one else around here to make feel bad?”

He flinched at her comment and she caught it, scrunching her nose even further. “I, um, she just hasn’t been in class and I know…I mean…I just want to know if she’s ok, Carrie.”

Your friend sighs, feeling sympathy for his broken tone. “She’s fine, just sick. She caught a cold so she’s been at home. Y/N said she’ll be back after the weekend.”

Steve thanked her before running down the hall, out the door, and towards the parking lot.

###########

“Steve? What-what are you doing here?”

Loud knocking had startled you awake from your cocoon you had made on the couch. You thought it might be Carrie to bring you your homework from class but were totally throw off guard when you saw your old best friend standing at your front door.

“I talked to your friend and she said you were sick. You haven’t been at school…”

“Yeah, no, come in.”, you quickly usher him in as you close the door. “I just got a bit of a bug but I’m okay. My parents are visiting my aunt this weekend so I thought I could just rest here.”

His worried eyes scanned over your face as he reached out to touch your forehead. “See? No fever.”

“Can I keep you company?”

“Oh, Steve. I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Pfft. You underestimate me and my immune system.” He smiles cockily making you giggle. “What are you watching?”, he glances at the screen. 

“An Affair to Remember. We can watch something else—”

“No, no. I think it’s cute you still like these black and white movies.” He grins as he comes around to sit on the sofa and you follow him bundling back up in your blankets. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about two people who meet on a cruise who lead very different lives on land. They fall in love and give themselves 6 months to get their affairs in order and meet again at the Empire State Building.”

His smile grows as he watches you speak. Movies like this were always a weakness for you especially when you were feeling low. When he was younger, he would always sit with you and watch your eyes light up as you watched the cheesy romances or film noir style dramas unfold. 

Twelve-year-old Steve throws on his father’s suit jacket and hat causing you to chuckle at the sight; everything on him two sizes too big.

“What are you doing?!”, you laugh.

“If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life!” He tugs at your hand, twirling you into his arms as he tilts the hat up so you can see his face. “We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.”

“I said I would never leave you!”

“And you never will…”

Steve had always loved doing little things like that to make you laugh. Truth be told he had only ever put in that kind of effort with you. None of the girls he dated ever got to see that side of him. 

Without thinking, his hand reaches out to brush some of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes didn’t leave the screen as you scooted your body closer to his and curled up into his side.

A pleasant sigh leaves your chest as his cheek rests on top of your head and his arm pulls you closer to his body. He had told you before he couldn’t be what you needed to him to be but right now all you needed was this. 

##############

You woke up a few hours later, placed flat on the couch with the covers tucked up over your chin. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah. Hey, I’m right here.” He came from the kitchen holding a tray in his hands before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better. I can breathe through my nose so…”, you laugh as he smiles. “What’s this?”

“Oh.” He sits on the floor and you slide off the couch to sit near him. “I have here grilled cheese and some tomato soup with some juice and a bottle of water. Your mom used to make this for me when I wasn’t feeling so hot. I still make it at home when I’m sick.”

You reach out and gently caress his cheek. “Steve, baby, why are you here?”

He exhales heavily as his hand comes up to take yours. “I don’t know…You weren’t at school and I just kept thinking…what if something happened to you? What if you were hurt or… I needed to know you were alright.”

“Does Jessica Sampson know you’re here? Or Tommy? Carol?”

“To be fair, I don’t think Jessie even realizes I’m not there. She’s so absorbed with her fucking hair; I swear one day it’s going to absorb HER and she’ll turn into that thing in The Addam’s Family.” You couldn’t help but cackle at his comment and he couldn’t enough. “I’m serious! She already talks in that high pitch voice.”

“I’m not here to make things difficult.”, he continued. “I’m so fucking confused, Y/N. To them I’m somebody. To my parents, I’m a nobody. I hate both options. I hate the somebody I am around them but I hate feeling nothing at home. I feel like I can’t win.”

“How do you feel around me?”

Steve flashes you a playful smile. “Before or after freshman year?”

“Surprise me.”

“You’ve always made me feel seen, like I matter. And how did I repay you? Forgetting your birthday and ditching you. Letting people like Tommy hurt you.” He pauses as he looks down at the floor. “Fucking you…the way I did.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked in a delicate tone. 

“You deserve to have someone make love to you. Y/N, we have yet to even do any kind of foreplay. I feel like I’m…using you.”

His eyes flutter shut when he feels your fingers run through his hair. “Steve, I’m not going to push you. I get it. I really do especially with how things are at your house. I just wish I could make you understand how much it hurt me when I lost you. You made me feel seen to and I loved the way you looked at me. I loved…you.”

You crawl into his lap with your back to his chest and he promptly encases you in his arms. 

“You understand how I feel. How long was it we had, honey?”

You smile softly as he quotes from the only movie he can seem to remember the lines to. Turning your forehead against his cheek you respond as Ilsa did in the film.

“I didn’t count the days.”

“Well, I did. Every one of 'em…”

##############

For the rest of the afternoon, you leaned against him watching tv or sleeping. As nighttime rolled around you felt one hundred times better. 

“Ok, I’m going to go take a shower because I imagine I smell like disease.”

“What does that even mean?”, Steve chuckles.

Grinning at him, you start to climb to stairs, pausing to turn your head in his direction. “Are you coming?”

The boy stumbles as he quickly rises, heading for the stairs and follows you to your bathroom. After turning on the hot water, you two disrobe and he holds your hand as you enter the shower. Steve is incredibly stiff at first, unsure of how proceed or if he even should as his fingers tenderly caress your cheek.

“You said we hadn’t done any kind of foreplay and I thought…since you’ve been making me such delicious meals…maybe I can offer you one of my own.”

“Fuck me.”, he stuttered.

Steve fell forward, kissing your lips before trailing them down you neck to your breasts. His mouth wrapped around your nipple, tongue playing with your erect nub as you gently moan. Descending to his knees, you reached behind his head to tangle your fingers through his damp hair as he kissed along your tummy. 

“I-I feel like I should tell you…no one has ever gone down on me before.”

His eyes squinted up at you playfully. “Are you joking?”

“No!”, you giggle. “You remember, the other guys we double dated with at most fingered me and then the one other guy I was with said he didn’t want eat me out because…because he thought it was gross.” You cringe as you say your last sentence and Steve’s forehead leans against your body as he laughs. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Like this dude had no problem sticking his dick in something he thought was ‘gross’ but couldn’t fucking…oh my god…what an idiot.” The man lifted your leg and placed your foot on the edge of the tub. “I mean look at this beautiful pussy that belongs to this beautiful woman.”

A small moan falls from your lips as he leans his head between your legs and his nose grazes your clit. “Y/N, you smell so fucking good.” Your palms shoot out to balance on his shoulders as his tongue licks a long stripe through your folds. “Jesus… and you taste so fucking sweet, honey.”

“Please…”, you beg. 

He obliges, enveloping your clit in his mouth as he flicked it with his tongue. You had never felt anything like this before as he devoured you feeling overwhelmed by him with just his tongue alone. As you continued to whimper, he hummed in approval, the vibration hitting your core as your eyes rolled back. 

“Y-yes, Steve, please. It feels so…mmm.”

“Cum for me, honey. I want to feel your cum on my lips.” Two of his fingers breached your entrance, thrusting rapidly into you as he pressed his head as deep between your sex as he could, shaking it from side to side as he sucked on your nub. 

Your fingers clung to his hair as your hips grinded against him, stuttering slightly as you mewled his name and came harder than you ever had before. He quickly removed his digits, replacing them with his tongue as he drank you in. Your thighs trembled around him as you gradually came back down. 

“Steve…Steve, please. I can’t…”

As soon as he rose to his feet, you promptly wrapped your arms around his waist and panted into his chest. 

“Are you okay?”, he whispered.

“Yeah. That was…amazing. I’m just… I’m so tired.”

Steve couldn’t help but giggle. “Too much too soon? Come on. Let’s get you clean and into bed. 

###############

You woke up a little after midnight to the darkness of your room, Steve fast asleep beside you as your head rested on his chest. Before you both had crashed, you suggested he take off his jeans to get more comfortable as a friendly gesture but right now when you looked down you couldn’t ignore the massive bulge outlining his boxers. 

The first time he got a boner in front of you he was so embarrassed.

“Steve…Steve…STEVE!”, you whispered trying to gently shake him awake. 

“Mm, what?”

“You, um, are you having a good dream?”

“What?” He looked down, immediately jumping up from your floor and covering his lower half with his backpack. “Shit. Y/N, I’m so…so fucking sorry!”

“Steve, it’s ok! My parents kind of explained how…some mornings... for boys…” He groaned as he blushed. “It’s ok. I’m not offended or anything. Do you want to use my shower to…cool down?”

“Yes, please.”

“Ok and when you come out, I promise I will never mention this again!”

He flashes you another embarrassed but thankful smile as he runs to your bathroom. 

You grin as you look up at his sleeping face, your palm rubbing his stomach over his shirt. He still had some features of the boy you met all those years ago especially as he slept. He seemed so calm as his face relaxed. Right now, he wasn’t thinking about the kids at school or his parents. Steve wasn’t thinking about how he had hurt you or how much he fucking missed you every day. Right now, it was just you and him. Two best friends that found each other amid all the chaos in this word.  

You watched his face as your hand glided under the fabric and gently caressed his skin. He didn’t move as the pads of your fingers grazed over his happy trail to the hair along his chest. Carefully, you lifted yourself to a seated position as you continued to rub him. The cock in his boxers had gradually began to harden and was threatening to poke out of its confinement. 

Steve heavily sighed, turning his head in the other direction as your hand reached into his underwear to pull out his dick. You had obviously felt him inside of you so you knew he was big but seeing him in your tiny hands had you wondering how he fit himself into your body. No wonder he left you sore afterwards; not that you minded. 

As you slowly pumped him with your hand, you heard a tiny moan emit for his lips. Bending over his waist, you ran your tongue along his length from the bottom of his shaft up to his slit, leaving a tiny kiss before you repeated your actions. 

A small whimper left you as a long line of spit fell from your lips and you twisted your palm around him feeling him throb in your hands. A hand rested on your back and your turned to see Steve’s lust filled eyes meeting yours. 

“Does it feel good?”, you whisper.

“Baby, you have no idea.” Focusing back on your task, you wrap your lips around him and steadily bob your head. “F-fuck. Let-let me help you…” You lean out of his way as he lifts his hip to slide off his boxers and removes his shirt, tossing it to the floor. Grabbing your cheeks, he pulls you to him for a sloppy kiss as his tongue invades your mouth.

“Wait, Y/N.”, he pants as you continue to pump him with your hand. “I-I-I don’t want you to think this why—mmm—I came over. I really was worried.”

“I know, Steve. I know.”

“These past two years, I always thought about you. I—”

“Steve, it’s okay. It’s okay. Please… just fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me.”

He scooped you into his arms, placing your back against the mattress. After you tossed your clothes on the floor next to his, Steve’s hand gripped your thighs, encasing himself between your legs. 

“This is how I should have done it the first time, honey. I should have made love to you instead of fucking you.” His palm reached between your bodies, guiding himself into your entrance as your arms fly up to grip his shoulders. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.”

Steve’s head fell beside yours, switching between kissing your neck and whispering in your ear as he pumped into you with long, deep strokes that had your eyes rolling.

“You should have been allowed to feel every inch of me, slow and hard. I know I can feel every part of you. Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Mmm, Steve.”

“Fuck, I love the way you moan my name. Say it again, Y/N.”

Your fingers wind in his hair as you wrap your other arm around his neck, whimpering his name as he thrusts into you a bit faster. He tenderly kisses up your jawline, lifting his head as he looks into your half-lidded eyes. 

“I should have told you how…beautiful you are. How I’m…mmm… never going to be that asshole again.” His own eyes close as his forehead falls on yours. “I’m never going to hurt you like that again, honey. I screwed up, I know. No one has ever cared about…mmm…me the way you did. I…I love you, Y/N…so fucking much. God damn. Can I cum inside you?”

You nod as you bring his head back down to the nook between your neck and shoulder. You couldn’t let him see you cry. He told you he loved you and that he would never hurt you again but you knew the truth. It was all a fantasy. Tomorrow he would wake up and go back to his girlfriend with his popular friends. He would say hello to you but that would be it. He couldn’t give up that life… He had promised you up until freshman year he would always be there for you…then he wasn’t…

Holding him tightly to you, your body shook underneath him as you came. A few moments later, his rhythm faltered and he grunted into your neck as he thrust his seed inside of you. 

You wiped your eyes before he could lift his head, delicately kissing your lips before pulling out of you. 

“Did you want to take a shower or?”

“No, Steve, I’m ok.”

He reached over to your nightstand, grabbing a tissue before cleaning between your legs. Steve laid back down beside you and to his surprise, you didn’t curl up on his chest again. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?” When you didn’t answer he sighed. “It’s because I said I love you, isn’t it? I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Hm. You love me but yet you’re with someone else.”

“Y/N, I haven’t even talked to her in three days. I’m not even really into her—”

“Wow. I’m sure she feels special.”

“God damnit, Y/N. I…”, he cuts himself off as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I don’t want to be this guy anymore. I don’t want to be someone I’m not. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes emphatically meet yours. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll tell Tommy and Carol to fuck off. I’ll set every fucking kid in that school straight about you. I’ll go to school on Monday and remain on my knees all day because that’s where I belong. Forever on my knee, Y/N, begging for your forgiveness.”

You can’t help but chuckle making him smile. “Do you understand why it’s hard for me to trust you?”

“Yeah, I do. I’d like to prove it to you. Prove that I can be a better person than King Steve.”

You lean back on your pillows and roll to your side to face him as he does the same; just like you two used to do when he spent the night those many years ago. His palm brushes some of your hair out of your face before gliding down to the small of your back. You bring your body closer to his, resting your hand on his hip. 

“Ok.”

[jcs-singular-slut-strand]

sleepover weekend from me!!

-> would you rather go to a party with jin guangshan or do coke in a gas station bathroom with wen ruohan/joke (i missed this joke tbh i had to make it)

-> yunmeng jiang sect headcannons! c'mon heap them on me. thoughts on them making, dyeing and exporting silk? i love worldbuilding.

-> choose between chengxuan and chengsu! reasons if you wanna give?

-> tell me three good things that happened to you or around you since the start of may, and also tell me about any random ass thing that irritates so, so much.

-> rec me anything honestly, i'll take it. i know you've got tolkein stuff on your alt, but if have to start lotr/similliarion (did i get that correctly), where do i start?

-> tell me about your first crush (no pressure at all, feel free to skip this)

I would do coke with Wen Rouhan in the bathrooms at Annandale Waters Service Station. They have clean bathrooms and a Burger King, I feel as if Wen Rouhan would enjoy a Whopper

YMJ headcanons

Yunmeng Jiang has the strongest trade relations with Meishan Yu out of the four greatest sects for obvious reasons.

The people of Yunmeng 100% have songs about the amazing Sandu Shengshou, which the Jiang disciples would obviously then sing just to piss Jiang Cheng off (they taught them to Jin Ling when he was merging from babbling toddler to chatty 5 year old).

All new disciples (and the older ones if they're acting in a way Jiang Cheng deems irresponsible and hazardous) are required to sit a Water and Boat Saftey Course. There's a written and a practical at the end, obvs. If you fail well then tough shit, you're resitting the course along with the disciples who have been reckless. This headcanon is inspired by my 90 year old grandpa who has sat the British speeding awareness course 2-3 times

Chengxuan vs Chengsu is actually really hard. However, Chengsu is more realistic I feel, especially during the time skip and after it. I love childhood best friends AU for Chengxuan and also all that Sunshot Campaign Chengxuan and modern AU's. But Chengsu takes the win; a high profile affair, raising a child who isn't yours with someone who isn't your husband, saltiness and self pity over the people you love choosing a Lan over you. Incredible.

On Sunday, my dad felt bad about forcing me to help him put up 2 coat racks, so he bought me jolibee and bubble tea

I went to Jolibee again yesterday

I had pepsi max for breakfast this morning

There are many, many things that truly piss me off but I can't be bothered going into detail right now so to keep things plain and simple, im gonna stick to something that's pissed me off today. Snapchat has this filter where you and a friend put in a photo of yourself and then it uses AI to generate what your child looks like. Me and my best friend, one of my favourite people ever, make ugly children. And I hate that. Why was that little girl so fucking ugly what was the reason snapchat???

I'm not sure what you mean so I'm just gonna link some of my fave fanfiction but also explain how I feel is the best way to get into the Tolkien fandom

Inexplicably around each other by adasinon = I just think this is sweet. Zhancheng nation ig

The Bounty of Our Days by remiges = Yu Ziyuan x Zhao Zhuliu, God I love them. It's like a character study and a backstory, I think it's really nice and fleshes out the characters

Sappy song on the old radio by Morethancupcake = oh my lord. Chengxian, modern au, childhood something. Past wangxian, past jiang cheng x literally anyone that is remotely bad for him. Couples therapy except Jiang Cheng didn't want to be there and they're not a couple anymore/yet, angst, coming back to each other later in life. I've only read this once but it's just that memorable.

Love you to death by KayllanBreak = Jiang Cheng kills Yu Ziyuan but no one can work out why (police inspector song lan). Wei Wuxian and Jiang cheng rocky relationship, Jin Ling idolising Jiang Cheng (naturally), Jiang Yanli lying her ass off for him, Jin Zixuan being his lawyer. Jiang Fengmian bashing 💗💗💗💗. Lan wangji is barely in this but when he is he's an utter arsehole.

Keep making trouble (till you find what you love) by Silveryogus = I FUCKING LOCE THIS FIC!!!! CHENGXUAN!!! Modern AU road trip to Lanling after the Xuanyu cave. Jin Zixuan has a talent for shoplifting (Jiang Cheng sent him to get clothes and he came back with too small trousers, yellow shirts, and sunglasses). Oh yeah and Jin Zixuan gets shot in a corner shop. Fellas is it gay to get into a high speed police chase whilst the guy you're semi unwillingly travelling with leans out the window and tries to shoot out the police's tires? Especially when said guy mentions smoking once and you spend some of the limited money you have on cigarettes??? Apparently I've visited this 70 times

Stray Dogs Parable by natcat5 = Post burning of Lotus Pier, no golden core debacle, jiang cheng recognising that his parents leadership strategies won't work in his situation/are just plain ineffective, proving his worth as a Sect Leader and earning the loyalty of his incredibly small number of disciples (the ones who survived), also Jiang Cheng sucks poison out of someone's ankle

Anyways, if you're getting into the Tolkien fandom I would recommend watching the hobbit films first, even though they're not entirely book accurate it's still a good way to get a feel of the story and work out if it's something you'd like. Then I would read the book. Same process for Lord of the rings. The silmarillion... God i actually can't say anything, you've just gotta re read the first 3-4 chapters a couple of times and then you should be fine...

My first crush is a dickhead who has progressively gotten worse and worse looking as time has gone on. I genuinely have no idea what I ever saw in him except for the fact that he laughed at my jokes and used to give me the answers in class. It was very embarrassing for all parties involved, I feel 😭

[ponds-of-ink]

A Short William and Justine One-Shot — “Cuddling for Comfort”

Thanks to @angeygirl tagging me about this post, I have finally written a moment where William’s the one initiating the cuddle. Too bad I rushed the ending a bit, but I got the main part down.

—

All was quiet on that Autumn night. The wind had silenced its whistling howl. The rustling leaves now gently fell onto the ground. Every other household had already gone to bed at least an hour ago— And the only reason William was awake was because of how peaceful this stillness was.

Well, that’s what he was telling himself.

Yes, the peacefulness was much needed after today’s long shift at Fredbear’s. Very much so. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to stay up. Not until he knew that Justine was all right as well. She hadn’t been feeling fine all day, that he was sure about.

He ruminated on those tell-tale signs as he stared at the sky. She wasn’t very chatty during breakfast or dinner, yet she didn’t sound scratchy or hoarse. Nothing in her body language conveyed any guilt, nor did she act nervous about any topics he brought up. ..Granted, she was always admitted something when it was on her mind, so that wasn’t a good “clue” anyway. Sickness was also out of the question, as she would have called in sick.

So it was most likely sadness of some kind. But what was the source? A newspaper headline? Some mishap at Fredbear’s? Possibly even.. a death in her family?

William shook his head rapidly. “No, no!” he cried out in his thoughts. “She would have said something by now. She was never bound to.. the old rules you had.”

Feeling a pang of his own, he attempted to get back on track. It probably wasn’t something grievous, then, but definitely something that killed a mood. A scene in her nightly reading? Some moment in a dream that stuck with her?

The bathroom door quietly swung open. “Sorry if I’m late,” Justine muttered in a drained voice. “Switching clothes took longer than I thought.”

William snapped out of his thoughts. He turned his head towards her. “It’s the start of the weekend, dear,” he reminded gently. “We don’t have to get up early tomorrow.”

Justine simply gave an “oh” and crawled into bed. She pulled the covers over herself, letting the sheets bury her from head to foot.

William left the windowsill. “Are you all right, Justine?” he asked with a slight tremor. “You’ve been glum all day, and… to be rather upfront… that worries me.”

Justine lowered the covers a little. She looked up at him with wet, reddish eyes. Her deep sigh felt like one of embarrassment and pain. “Last night, I finished reading Frankenstein again,” she said hoarsely. “Every time I get to the last few chapters, I feel my heart break all over again. That poor, mistaken thing…”

William felt his own heart ache a little. “While I can’t change what happened to your longtime ‘crush’,” he replied as he climbed into bed, “I can provide the warmth you need.“ He paused to double-check Justine’s mood, then pulled her towards him. “That is to say, I think someone needs a good cuddle right about now,” he continued, lightly patting her head. “I know I would if I were in your shoes.”

Justine readjusted herself, then rested on William again. “Thank you,” she smiled, finally sounding more alive again. “I.. I’m sure it sounds silly…“

“Shh,” William shushed while his hand switched to slowly stroking her head like a cat. “There’s no need to call yourself that. Especially since all you did was read the saddest piece of gothic horror before bed. Being properly silly is having to act all embarrassed when your mascot’s vest comes off mid-juggling act.”

Justine’s eyes widened. “Did that happen today?” she asked. “I don’t think you mentioned that earlier.”

“It did happen, but I didn’t say anything because you looked so out-of-sorts,” William answered sheepishly. “It was an easy fix backstage, but oh was it tough to even get there! I had to improvise an entire reason for why it decided to come off just then, and my best idea was ‘it must’ve grown in the wash’.”

Justine chuckled. “Well, it sounds like you—and Spring-Bonnie—did just fine after that,” she answered before stifling a yawn. “I’m sure it’ll be fixed by tomorrow.”

William simply nodded. Then, he blinked for a moment or two. “Talking of wardrobe malfunctions,” he muttered thoughtfully, “I almost wonder if I’m wearing the wrong clothes for tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Justine questioned, looking quizzically into her husband’s eyes.

A sly smile grew on William’s face. “Well, my little ballerina,” he began in a mockingly know-it-all tone, “we are in Utah, after all. It has gotten a smidge cooler, but I’m sure I can wear my Summer pajamas one last time. Consider it a little treat before the proper Halloween season starts.”

Justine’s eyebrows raised. Her heartrate quickened. “Willy, please,” she said quietly, burying her face into his shoulder. “We’ve got a huge day tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get.”

“Are you saying you might lose more sleep if I change into my ‘crop-top’?” William inquired, his tone losing some of his smugness.

Justine nodded her head. Though her face was burning and a wide smile struggled to form, her tired eyes shared the same plea.

“Oh, all right,” William sighed ‘defeatedly’ as he pulled up the covers. “I just thought it would be a nice addition to top our little cuddling session off— Especially since you love it when I wear that thing.”

“Yes, but not tonight,” Justine pouted before yawning. “Try.. again,,, tomorrow.,,,”

William made a mental note as he watched her finally drift off to sleep. As he cautiously settled in, he lightly kissed her forehead. The warmth of it all aided him in his own slumber— Almost seeming to seep into his dreams of Spring-Bonnie’s face being covered in cartoonish lipstick.

[qrevo]

Milgram Prisioner Covers Prediction List

So. I've been listening to some of DECO's older songs these past few days, some of which I hadn't heard before, and I wanted to try and take a shot on future Milgram Covers! (this list will be so wrong i'll be ashamed of this 2 yrs from now) (Also like. Don't think this had a 10 month research period. I'm not a professional lyricist or literary analyst guy or anything. I literally did this during the weekend while procrastinating for uni assignments.) There is a TLDR at the end for the lazy kings (you guys are so real for that tbh)

01 - Undead Alice

I don't really have a reason for it, I really just feel like it makes a good fit. Yeah, the lyrics are about a toxic relationship, but the way the song is written reminds me a lot about Haruka and his negative view about himself (which may become worse after a Guilty vote).

02 - Rabbit Hole

This song is fits so well with Yuno. It really feels like it's mocking love and romance, especially the superficial ones where it's all just "corny" and "cliché", which is really in-line with Yuno's character. Also it would be so good. Just imagine Rabbit Hole with the Vampire cover's yoinky sploinky cartoony sounds.

03 - 118

This one I'm not that certain of, I guess it fits with Futa becoming more aware and remorseful of what he did and ending up spiting who he associated with. Also, I really think it would fit his songs' style of a more rock-punk vibe. Futa's covers are actually kind of hard to predict to be honest, even today I woudn't think about him covering Mozaik Role, but here we are.

04 - Ghost Rule

I'm pretty sure Ghost Rule will be covered by one of the prisioners, since it's kind of a Vocaloid classic (and also really good it will be such a win for Muu-stans if this becomes real). I felt like it goes well with Muu's character, with her acting superior and snobby in school and later becoming a bullying victim, a "ghost", as a consequence. If she covers this, then maybe in T3 she regrets what she did and how she acted?

05 - Cosmic Rendesvouz

Yeah this one came out a few days ago, and is what inspired me to make this list. It's just. Made for Shidou. The mourning? The wanting to reunite with his wife on the after-life? THE HOLOGRAPHIC GHOST-MEMORY-THINGS? So Shidou-core. I know a lot of people pointed this out, but some scenes felt so much like Triage. Anyways, this song screams "I'm Shidou and I'm very sad" in the best way possible. Next.

06 - Zombies

This one is less like a guess and more like a PLEASE I NEED THIS SO BAD. This fits SO WELL with the toxic girlfriend and abusive relationship. Her wanting to be with the lover forever, leading to him passing away, fits so well. Also, Okasaki Miho would simply SLAY SO MUCH.

07 - We The Hostages

Kazui is difficult. A lot of DECO's songs are about bad/distasteful relationships, so I felt like there were a lot of options. I chose this one mostly because the lyrics can be interpreted as a person who doesn't love their partner anymore, and wants to let it all go, as the relationship was bad for both. Also the wife is gone apparently.

08 - Winter Cleaning(????)

Amane is actually the main boss of this prediction list because like. She will cover ANIMAL. I still think it'll be good, actually so happy for the Amane-stans out there, but it was just. One of the most jaw-dropping cover choices from the entire project for me. ANYTHING is possible from now on. I guess Winter Cleaning makes sense if she goes to therapy and recovers from Her Current Behaviour™, as in like, cleaning her mindspace and taking out the bad memories and such, but this is really a shot in the dark.

09 - (Not) A Devil

Another one that's more of a wish than a prediction (and also kind of fanservice-y?). The lyrics are like an angel and a devil on an argument, so it would be cool if we had both Ore-Mikoto and Boku-Mikoto singing as the angel and the devil. Also the song kind of fits his heavy-metal song style.

09 - Theory of Negativity

Aha, two songs for Mikoto! That's because his T2 cover was not revealed yet! Anyway, it's a song about breakups I think (as are a lot of them actually), but the lyrics talk about hating the partner, wanting to change one's self, a lot of self-doubt, and it kind of fits with Mikoto's struggles on having DID.

10 - Reversible Campaing

This is one I'm really hoping for. The style of the song fits her themes and styles so much. I don't think the lyrics fit 100% for her, as they are about (guess it) a toxic relationship (!?!), but so was Anti-Beat and that cover was great so who cares.

10 - Dilemma

Kotoko will also have two predictions! This one is more on the aesthetics of the song and the MV, and also because it can kind of being interpreted as her saying how much justice she did ("Don't play arround, how much I've done for you, you probably don't even want to know").

HONORABLE MENTIONS

-I could very easily switch Reversible Campaign and 118, these songs are good for both Futa and Kotoko -I also thought about Cinderella for Muu, but it came as a song about being insecure, while currently Muu is like. The opposite. -Love Doll would also fit with Mahiru, and her wanting to spend every second with her partner -I was so close to chosing A Bird's Song for Kazui, but We The Hostages made more sense. -Addiction can fit with Mikoto because of the beat, but the lyrics didn't make that much sense in character. -Also I can kind of see Pseudo-Hope Syndrome fitting well for Mikoto

TLDR

I like Milgram a normal amount thank you. Etc etc. Here's the list: 01 - Undead Alice 02 - Rabbit Hole 03 - 118 04 - Ghost Rule 05 - Cosmic Rendezvous 06 - Zombie 07 - We The Hostages 08 - Winter Cleaning 09 - (Not) A Devil / Theory of Negativity 10 - Reversible Campaign / Dilemma

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up with Old GMMTV: SOTUS Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. First official Old GMMTV Challenge review up: SOTUS.]

[NOTE, March 23, 2024: I want to note, from the future!, that my thoughts on Krist Perawat, his acting, and his career trajectory regarding his personal controversies, have changed quite a bit since the publication of this 2023 post. There is excellent commentary out there about the detrimental impact of fandom behavior on Krist and his reputation over the years that I’ve been influenced by, and his comeback to BL in Be My Favorite was a risk that I supported. I have a lot of nostalgia for SOTUS and SOTUS S now, and their impact on the Thai BL genre since their airings.]

I spent a lot of the weekend wrapping my head around the MANY thoughts I have about SOTUS -- but first, I want to say that the FEEDBACK I received on questions that I posted throughout my watch of the show really heartened me. THANK YOU, THANK YOU (!!!) to EVERYONE who made helpful comments on my posts (here, here, here, here, especially here, and here). All of you helping to set me up for how I understand the historical timeline of the development of BLs in Thailand was absolutely necessary for the lenses in which I ultimately watched the show.

And I think there’s a number of perspectives I ended up adopting over the course of my watch. It might help me to write this piece if I list out those lenses now:

- Lens #1: WHY, OH MY GOD, WHY WAS KRIST CAST IN THIS ROLE - Lens #2: People had to have enjoyed this in 2016 because there was nothing else like it available at the time, despite Krust - Lens #3: Maybe the first two points are related - Lens #4: Singto is reaching remarkable-level here - Lens #5: Maybe all of these points will help me understand why many fans still think of this show fondly, despite the subsequent Krust/KrustSingto drama and possibly questionable points made on sexuality and sexual preferences.

More than anything else, I think it helped me to watch this show while recognizing that I’m an #old. Being early middle-aged (early, I tell ya) helps me, literally everyday, to remember that history guides me to understand the world in which I view it now. So to watch a show from 2016, which is long-ago or not-that-long-ago, depending on your frame of reference, means that I was watching history. And history is.... a reflection of that one, singular moment in time, with the context of past events, people, and places influencing that moment in time. 

I went out of order on the Old GMMTV Challenge because I was too eagerly curious about Singto to watch Love Sick first, and wait on SOTUS (as I’m planning to reward myself after this journey with a big old watch party of He’s Coming to Me, running back to my snuggly Ohm/Nanon rabbithole). 

But as well, speaking of Bad Buddy: I also felt like I really wanted to get SOTUS under my belt after a number of separate and FABULOUS conversations about how Bad Buddy had purposefully relied on a BL framework (citing @miscellar), and how Aof and his team, plus Nanon and Ohm themselves, had set out essentially to create a critical meta-BL, complete with embedded reflection on BL tropes -- exactly the sorts of tropes that were borne out of SOTUS. (Here and here are two links to said fabulous conversations.)

I probably think about Bad Buddy at least once a day by way of how deeply layered it was a drama, so: to SOTUS I needed to go, to understand the tropes framework that @miscellar and others opined on, and for me to undergo a learning experience about how exactly today’s BLs are influenced by the ones that started the genre in Thailand. 

Considering the lenses I listed above, I’ll say this: at the age I was at in 2016, and knowing that, as an Asian, I’ve always had a craving for shows by Asians, set in Asia, within Asian family and social systems, about issues of acceptance and equity felt by Asians: I predict that, save for Krust’s performance, I would have been CRAZY for SOTUS as a new kind of show that I wanted and needed to watch.

During my excellent conversations with the Tumblr family, I came to understand that SOTUS was Thailand’s first true BL. It centered on a same-sex attraction-to-relationship, established various levels of perspectives and commentaries on power dynamics, and set up a number of important tropes -- pink milk, university settings, engineering-as-gay, the gay-for-you motif, side couples and best friends, etc. -- that we then saw and see repeated in subsequent BLs.

Where I was at in 2016 -- I would have eaten it almost all of it up.

Now? Now, I get to see all the problematic factors about it, through the lens of history.

So I want to be fair about the commentary this show receives NOW, because one thing I heard repeated in the feedback I received over the past couple weeks, in part, was about nostalgia. Reflecting particularly on Singto’s performance as Kongpob -- I mean, with a slightly more sophisticated, mature, well-rounded, better-written script, his performance would have been totally groundbreaking.

But I THINK, both from a 2016-lens and from a now-lens, that the script was terribly choppy. I don’t think the script did justice for the risks this show was otherwise willing to take. And I think, again, that’s because SOTUS is a product of its time, where there were no precedents for how to otherwise tell Kong’s story -- and that SOTUS was breaking the ground that the current crop of GMMTV’s screenwriters and directors are now tending. In essence: GMMTV was experimenting with HOW to tell the CENTERED story of a same-sex relationship, and we saw that unfold in SOTUS’s real time. 

Besides the choppy script, this show ultimately did not achieve creative groundbreaking status, for me, because of Krist. Not to be hyperbolic, but he’s one of the worst actors I’ve seen in an Asian drama, and I’ve watched some bad KBS daytime shit. If someone tells me that Krust has been great in certain cishet shows, that’s fine, but I’m not running to them (and now I’m SO disappointed about The Jungle, which I was otherwise looking forward to this year). And this feeling is not at all inclusive of his actual problematic homophobic behavior. He was just terrible in SOTUS. 

We know and have seen tsundere leads. We all love our biases who have played tsundere leads. The problem with Krust is that he had zero reactivity and chemistry to an excellent Singto, regardless of the script, regardless of his acting methodology, if he had any to begin with. 

So I have to think: did GMMTV cast him because, maybe, he was having trouble getting other projects that would have required, say, acting? And GMMTV was like, well, this guy’s under contract, let’s throw him a bone with this experimental show we’re doing, and see how it goes?

I am tending to think that that’s possibly what happened. And maybe, even, GMMTV could not have predicted how FANTASTIC Singto would be -- and, therefore, how wide the divide would have been between their performances. And, how much GMMTV was risking by putting this mismatched pair together for what ultimately was groundbreaking material.

GMMTV couldn’t have predicted the future, right? Hollywood tries with its predictive models, but this was new ground for this company.

Where the choppy script and Krust’s terrible acting really fails the show is, as I mentioned earlier, the issue that I bring up about power dynamics. Krust as Arthit was going to do something in this show that was rare at that moment: Arthit was going to move from a socially majority position to a minority position by falling in love with Kongpob.

That’s a big deal. That happens in two of my most dearest BLs, Old Fashion Cupcake and Cherry Magic, and many others, of course. The Asian collectivist perspective plays huge parts in both shows, unconsciously, that lead to the uke leads considering taking up with their semes. And it happens to Arthit, too. In the Asian collectivist perspective -- you, as a uke, respond empathically, and maybe even try to meet your seme where your seme is at. 

I think the only times that I saw Krust at least trying to show up in this show was by way of this power dynamic move, to attempt to respond to Kong/Singto emotionally. There was a little eye contact. There was a little instinctual responsiveness. But otherwise, there was really a lot of dead air and dead space, leveraged by an only-okay soundtrack that left Krust and Singto struggling to act in essential silence, with Krust barely scraping by on attempting to communicate his struggle in his developing attraction to Kong. 

I’m just wondering to myself: how much do I blame the actual show itself -- like the script, the director, the writers, etc. -- about how it ended up this way? I think I ultimately have a sympathetic heart about it, again, because of the history, and my betting (based on everything that everyone here on Tumblr has taught me about) that again, this was a kind of experiment for GMMTV, without the company knowing how HUGE KrustSingto would become. 

Other points about the show that I want to quickly capture before I wrap up on Kong/Singto:

- The hazing, while concerning, didn’t make me swerve, as it was clear from the start that it was sanctioned by their school. I want to say that this kind of hazing is important to many Asian school social systems, but I know things have changed a ton since I was a kid. As with almost all social and family systems, the hazing, I think, offered another commentary on power dynamics that I think was reflected throughout the show. I thought the hazing was actually an interesting mirror to what Kong and Arthit were struggling with individually, between themselves.

- I LOVED THE SIDE CHARACTERS. M, Wad, Prae, May. They were fun, well-written, and WELL-ACTED.

I want to wrap this up with a reflection on Singto/Kong and his acting vis à vis the script. 

Going back to the 2016 moment-in-time frame: I know I would have gone crazy for him seven years ago. Forget about it. Mans totally rose to the occasion of what this show was doing. I think the script ultimately failed to truly capture what he was willing to throw. (And that leads me to not being surprised that he was then subsequently paired with various leads in future shows, probably to try to capture a magic that he clearly demonstrated in SOTUS.)

In particular: I did NOT think the script did Kong justice by keeping the revelation about his budding attraction to Arthit until episode 11 (I *think* it was episode 11, but I could be wrong, and I’m not going back to fact-check, ha). I want to think that that’s one of the (many) kinds of mistakes that GMMTV is correcting for now. The comments about wives, the insistent “you like me”s -- they were non-contextual for much of the show, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE Krust could not catch a damn ball. That’s what ultimately broke me about this show. And I think that demonstrated a lack of fluency about how GMMTV could write scripts on same-sex attraction. 

As well, as I wrote in this post -- the post-Arthit-coming-out discussion between Kong and M threw me. M asks Kong -- “do you like men?”

And Kong had SUCH a specific answer. To me, as I wrote previously: his answer was, I definitely don’t like men. I’m definitely not gay. I just like Arthit.

My guess is, for Thailand’s first full-fledged BL in 2016 -- this dialogue HAD to be written this way. To enter into the kind of territory we see NOW, as we saw in Moonlight Chicken -- where we see one man’s (Jim’s) struggle with IDENTIFYING himself as gay, AND presenting another man AS HIS boyfriend -- we had to START somewhere. That somewhere was SOTUS, in almost total opposite territory, where the concept of the admission-of-gay could not be contemplated.

@bengiyo’s comments in the last post I linked above, in particular, collide in part with @absolutebl‘s analysis on the Asian collectivist vision. However, I can’t help but compare this issue, again, to what we recently saw in Moonlight Chicken...where conversations about Jim, about Li Ming, and with Wen, a fully out and identified queer man, all touched upon individual identity.

That’s where we are -- that’s where we CAN be -- now, in 2023, and in the near future. SOTUS was important for me to watch to understand how we ended up here, now, for what was okay and was not okay, in 2016. 

It’s okay, now, to appreciate collectivism WHILE ALSO identifying oneself as queer/gay. At least, it’s okay in fantasy BL-land. (Again, I’d peep @bengiyo’s comments about how that may not be reflective of what domestic Thai queer audiences may be feeling about these shows.) 

I have a lot more understanding to undertake regarding how Asian queer audiences see this. But at least from the perspective of this first-generation Asian American -- to see the progression of history as the doors slowly open, from dramas to Asian (and other) audiences regarding how one can identify oneself, safely and happily -- that’s a big deal, and I see how SOTUS was a harbinger of things to come. 

Singto was simply up to the task to break ground in this show, and it’s such a shame that he was let down, in my opinion, by his co-star. The subsequent history of that pairing breaks my heart, because I think it taints a lot of what SOTUS ended up bringing to the table. I’m glad we have Aof and Bad Buddy, now, to serve in part as a reflection for what SOTUS did, and how BLs and BL tropes could age, be manipulated, and be IMPROVED and developed upon, over the course of time. But the actual history of KrustSingto messes me up a lot in regards to how I might feel nostalgic, myself, for SOTUS, as I learn more about classic BLs.

It’s a confusing mindspace to be in, to move backwards in time to understand how things have developed -- but I gain such a bigger appreciation for the shows I’ve fallen in love with now, over these recent months, for where they came from.

[I want to give HUGE thanks to @absolutebl, @bengiyo, @nieves-de-sugui, @respectthepetty, @miscellar (especially for all the BBS context), @lurkingshan, @wen-kexing-apologist, @shortpplfedup, @clairificusrex, @dribs-and-drabbles, and everyone else who made comments in my SOTUS watch posts. All of you are my historians. More than the fun of writing these reviews is interacting and conversing with the Tumblr fam.]

(Love Sick is on deck. If anyone is following this journey, I’ll be fast-forwarding through the second season, ha -- I can’t commit to 36 lakorn-length episodes. I also have a HUGE and lengthy wedding trip coming up in a couple weeks. So the conclusion of this project will be delayed, but definitely know that I’ll be posting thoughts here and there as I plod through.)

[thechloediary]

osaoi - hurt/comfort (2230 words)

>> dialogue prompt: “despite what you think, i am completely capable of taking care of myself!”

tooru doesn’t get it. it’s not as if he’s never been with someone before (even though he’s not sure that those times can be qualified as relationships since they were mostly just friends with benefits situations). he doesn’t really have any dating experience and he’s never been in love with anyone before so he doesn’t really have any situations to use as comparison; but still, something about his current relationship ticks him off.

he’s used to doing things himself, he’s never needed anybody's help. he knows how to cook, how to clean, how to do taxes, and every other thing that one needs to do during their life.

but ever since he’s with osamu, the latter almost always does everything for him. well, he’s a chef, so the cooking part was expected, but everything else wasn’t – not that tooru expected him to not know how to do anything but cooking of course.

he’s always known that osamu is a capable man and that he doesn’t seem to need anyone else either. but that’s precisely where it becomes a problem. what if this was a bad idea? they’ve been friends for a very long time before they decided to get together – what if they shouldn’t have? what if they should have stayed friends?

tooru is sure he likes the other – more than likes, if he’s being honest with himself – but what if they just don’t click? maybe they are compatible as friends but not as lovers. maybe they’re too independent to be able to work well together.

he hasn’t said anything to osamu about how he feels because he doesn’t want to make the other feel bad, it isn’t his goal at all. but because of that, he’s just been bottling up all his negative emotions, and he knows that it isn’t ideal either.

he knows osamu is doing this because he likes doing so, it’s been evident from the beginning that osamu’s main love language is act of service – among others – so he should feel grateful. and he is; he swears he is.

but somehow he can’t help but doubt himself as well. what if osamu does this because he doesn’t think i can? it’s always at night that those thoughts occupy his mind, and he can never shut them up.

he is used to people thinking he can’t do something, and he’s always proved them wrong. but this is different. this is not just people, it’s osamu. his boyfriend. he doesn’t want his boyfriend to think he's an incompetent – especially since it’s not true.

but again, he doesn’t voice any of his thoughts. he guesses that he just needs time to adjust to this new relationship status. it’s his longest relationship ever – even though they’ve been together for only six months – so maybe he just doesn’t know how to act when being in a relationship and osamu is just being normal? maybe he is the one acting weird? he hadn’t thought of that before. osamu does have more experience than him in the dating field after all, so maybe tooru should just get used to it.

—

he didn’t get used to it. and, as expected, everything he’s bottled up since the beginning of their relationship finally explodes.

it’s friday night and they’re both tired from their week but they still decide to spend the evening and night together as usual. they don’t live together yet since their relationship is still somewhat recent, but they always spend the weekend together at one of their apartments in order to recharge from their past week and prepare for the start of a new one.

today hasn’t been great. tooru has been in a bad mood ever since he woke up and he can’t really explain why. he doesn’t know what is wrong but he still feels wrong. he’s been irritable during the whole day, he just needs to relax. he just wants to enjoy his friday evening with his boyfriend, they could cuddle on the couch while watching a movie and that would be perfect. but before that he wants a bath, he thinks it’ll be good to help him relax.

“hi babes,” osamu greets him as tooru enters his apartment.

“hi,” he replies before kissing his boyfriend softly.

“are ya hungry? i was about to start makin’ dinner.”

“yeah but i’m exhausted so i’ll take a bath first. i won’t be long though so you can still cook while i’m in the bathroom don’t worry.” he smiles as he starts to make his way to the bathroom.

osamu stops him by grabbing his wrist. “are ya okay?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

“yeah don’t worry. i’m just tired.”

he can still see worry in osamu’s eyes but the latter doesn’t add anything else to it. “okay. let me prepare the bath for you.” he announces as he walks past tooru to make his way to the bathroom.

“i can do it.”

“that’s fine, let me.”

“samu. i can do it.”

maybe he used a harder tone than he thought, because osamu stops in his tracks to look at him weirdly. and that’s just the last straw, he doesn’t know why it happens now and especially over something that stupid, but he can’t stop himself before the words are out of his mouth.

“despite what you think, i am completely capable of taking care of myself!” he snaps.

osamu seems taken aback by his sudden outburst. he’s looking at tooru wide-eyed and with confusion written all over his face. but there’s something else too.

even though osamu is very good at hiding his emotions when he wants to, tooru has been able to learn how to read the other thanks to all the time they’ve spent together. and he’s sure that osamu is hurt right now. hurt because of him.

“tooru–”

he doesn’t let him finish his sentence before he rushes to the bathroom and locks himself in. once he’s sat in his bath, he cries silently.

he knows he shouldn’t have snapped at osamu who was just being nice. tooru is tired and osamu just wanted to run him a bath, there’s literally nothing wrong with that situation.

he knows he’s entirely at fault for what just happened and that osamu didn’t deserve that reaction. he knows he shouldn’t have taken his irritability on his boyfriend.

he knows all of this.

and he knows he hurt him. that’s probably the worst thing. osamu’s confused and hurtful expression is still imprinted on his eyes, he can’t unsee it. he should have acted intelligently and just told osamu that he wasn’t in the mood to talk – he’s pretty sure that the latter would have understood and let it go. or on the contrary he could have told osamu that they need to talk, because he knew that he’d eventually snap if they don’t.

well he did snap; and it happened in the worst way possible. he doesn’t know how to make it better without hurting osamu even more.

—

after god knows how much time, he finally gets out of his bath and almost scares himself when he sees his reflection in the mirror. his eyes are way too red for the excuse of just being tired to be believable, so he hopes the excuse of the shampoo in the eyes will be enough. he doesn’t want to worry osamu even more.

once he’s comfortable in his sweats and (osamu’s) large shirt, he goes out of the bathroom and is immediately hit by the delicious smell of osamu’s cooking. he sheepishly makes his way to the kitchen and feels a little ping at his heart when he sees that osamu dressed the table entirely for them two.

he didn’t expect osamu to wait for him. he thought the grey-haired man would be mad at him, that he would have already eaten when tooru took his bath. ‘you don’t deserve him’ rings loudly in his head.

none of them talk as they sit down and start eating. the atmosphere has never been as heavy and uncomfortable as it is now. when he can no longer bear the awkward silence, he clears his throat before apologizing.

“i’m sor–”

he doesn’t have time to finish before osamu interrupts him. “i never once thought that you’re not capable of taking care of yourself.”

what?

“i… i don’t understand why you said that. i get that i made you mad, but i don’t understand how. please tell me and i promise i’ll stop.” he almost pleads and it breaks tooru’s heart.

how can osamu say that when tooru is clearly the one at fault? he can’t believe he managed to get such a sweet boyfriend. he decides that osamu deserves nothing but raw honesty, so tooru decides to just pour his heart out and see where it leads them.

“please stop,” he reaches forward and puts his hand on osamu’s. he sighs in relief internally when the other doesn’t push him away. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you when you were just trying to be nice.”

“i–”

“samu, please let me speak.” he interrupts him but still using a soft tone. osamu makes a gesture as if to say that he’s locking his mouth and tooru almost snorts fondly at the action before remembering their current conversation.

he takes a deep breath before locking eyes with the grey-haired man across from him. “you know this is my first real relationship, right?” osamu just nods in response, tooru keeps going. “i know this isn’t an excuse but i guess i’m just not used to having someone do everything for me? you– you do everything, samu. everything.” he winces at the end of his sentence, hoping that he doesn’t irritate osamu, but the other man just tilts his head on the side like a puppy, looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to continue with his explanation; so he does. “you cook – not that i’m complaining, your food is a blessing – you do the dishes, you clean not only yours but also my apartment, you run my baths, you do everything, samu.” he repeats, insisting, in an attempt for osamu to maybe understand his perspective.

osamu is frowning when tooru studies his face. he closes his eyes to gather his thoughts before opening his mouth again. “i– ugh god why is this so complicated to explain. all my life i’ve been doing everything by myself, and ever since we’re together i don’t do anything anymore. i– i guess i kinda thought you do everything because you think i can’t do it.”

upon hearing that, osamu finally interrupts him. “that’s not why. i never thought that, tooru. you forget that we’ve been friends for a long time before getting together, i know how you used to do everything by yourself. i just thought that maybe you’d like it if, for once, someone would do those things for you.” a blush appears on his face as he looks away sheepishly. “i guess i was wrong. i’m sorry if you felt as if i was suffocating you.”

osamu said that last part so quietly and shyly that tooru feels tears gathering behind his eyes. he quickly closes his eyes again in an attempt to avoid crying.

“no! please don’t say that!” he exclaims. “that’s not what i meant, i promise. i don’t find you suffocating. oh my god i’m so sorry!” he rambles.

osamu raises his head to look him in the eyes as if to see if he’s telling the truth or not. tooru can’t see anything except the unshed tears in his boyfriend’s eyes. he never wants to see this sight again.

“i guess i’d just like for us to share the chores, you know? or even do some together. like… i know i’m no competition to a chef like you, but i like cooking. and i’d like it if we could maybe cook together sometimes?” he asks timidly as he feels his face heating up.

osamu, on the other hand, seems to completely lighten up at that. “you’d really like that?” he asks excitedly, stars in his eyes.

tooru can’t help the fond laugh that escapes his mouth. “yeah. yeah i’d like that a lot.” he replies, smiling fondly. and then, just for good measure, he adds with a more serious tone. “i’m sorry again, samu.”

the grey-haired man just smiles at him and squeezes his hand before releasing it to get up. he makes his way to the other side of the table where tooru is sitting and opens his arms. tooru wastes no time and immediately launches himself in his boyfriend’s embrace.

he feels osamu kissing his temple and he sighs happily, tightening his grip around the other man’s middle as he smiles in his neck.

“i love you, samu.” he realizes then that it’s the first time he’s said it aloud, but he can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed. it felt so natural to say.

he feels osamu’s smile against his head. “i love ya too.” he says before kissing his temple once again.

they stay like that for some time, just hugging in the kitchen.

“i guess it’s good we had that conversation today,” osamu breaks the silence with a somewhat smug tone. “now we can move in together without any worries.”

tooru chokes on air.

// end.

[detectiveichijouji]

Case 19 - A wannabe Taichi?! The jealous kid

[AO3 version]

He was kinda afraid yet curious about what would happen if all Seven Deadly Sins were gathered. What was that purpose…? And the Halloween festival at Amanogawa High was… That same weekend.

“... Only Envy is left… Yet we don’t know why that Impmon and those other ‘pals’ want those…”

“Ah, I think Taichi-san will come to see us!” “Really? He’s been too busy lately…” “Hikari-chan, don’t you want to prank your brother this year?” “Hmm… What should we do this year??” “I don’t think it’s a good idea…” “Daisuke-kun, we know you want to prank him~” “M-me!? No!! I don’t! T-Takeru, why would we do that!?” “Well, maybe we can prank Yamato instead.” “Yamato-san is scary! Hikari-chan you don’t agree with that, right?” “Hmm… What if we prank both??” “.................... H-Hikari-chan… 💦”

“... Hmm… I wonder if…”

“HEY, NOEL!” Daisuke approached with a grin and gave the boy a pat in the back.

“GUH!” and Noel got caught off guard, almost losing his balance and falling on the floor.

“A-ah, sorry…!!” Daisuke babbled awkwardly.

“I-it’s okay…” the blonde boy said, smiling at him, “You three are excited for the Halloween festival…?”

“Yeah! Now that Takeru’s back… We can all enjoy it together!!”

“Oh… So, the others will come…”

“Yep! I think even our seniors will come too! But they’re busy peeps… But it would’ve been cool if they came!”

“Oh, you mean… Yagami Taichi-san’s group…?”

“Oh? I bet you heard about them from Catherine!” Patamon butted him, “Right?”

“Catherine… Y-yeah, I did…!”

Takeru blinked, why did he sound like he didn’t know Catherine…? -- and thought.

“Aah… I didn’t find anyone to play with today…” the eyepatched Impmon sighed, “Geez, those humans and digimon are no fun!”

Suddenly, they saw one of those oldest Chosen Children dealing with a legit 11 year old child.

“Please teach me!” the kid said, “I’ve been looking up to you, I wanna be cool like you Yagami Taichi-san!!”

“Uhh, I… I don’t know?? The last time I was given that responsibility I ended up blowing it up…??” Taichi blinked, “Uhh, Agumon can you handle this for me?? I need to… work.”

“H-huh!?” Agumon tilted his head, not sure what to say to either of those humans.

“W-will Agumon train me!?”

“Taichi, I…”

“Please Agumon,” Taichi begged his digimon, “Just a little… Until I come back.”

“But…”

“A-Agumon, I will obey every command from you!” the kid bowed his head.

“Aaah, Taichi--” But Taichi left, and Agumon was left behind with the kid. It’s weird how Taichi has been acting a little strange lately… Is it what they call ‘being an adult’?? But he felt Taichi not wanting to deal with that little kid was off.

“What should I do…” Agumon frowned.

“So, what should we do first?” the boy asked, excited.

“Uhhh… Um, what’s your name again?”

“Taisuke, Kamiya Taisuke. I’ll be 11 years old in two months,” he introduced himself, “And I’m going to be cool like Yagami Taichi-san!”

The kid carried a Botamon plush, possibly made-or-bought by his parents. Agumon had been unsure what to do right now. He should’ve been used to it, since Daisuke was kinda like that as a kid…

“Um, alright…” Agumon scratched the top of his head, “Taichi said to keep watching you until he’s back so… Let’s play something while we wait for him…?”

“Ooh!! Nice idea, teach Agumon!” Taisuke nodded excitedly, “The arcade has the best ways to improve your mind and stamina!”

“No, I mean just playing to distract oursel--”

“LET’S GO!!” and he left.

“A-ah… Um, W-wait for me!!” Agumon went after the kid, but then he just witnessed Taisuke stopping and talking with a hooded digimon, “Huh??”

“I know you envy those people with digimon, especially the one you admire the most” the mysterious digimon said, “Say, would you like to use that envious heart to achieve your dream?”

“T-that’s bad!” Agumon muttered to himself, “I have to warn Taichi--”But it was too late. Taisuke accepted a forbidden Digimental fragment and used it on the plush… Which evolved into a BlackAgumon.

After school time… The Take-Dai-Hika trio was leaving on the way home when they found Agumon running in their direction, desperately. 

“Hikariiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Daisukeeeeee, Takeruuuuuuuuuuuuu!!”

“Huh? Agumon?” the kids and their digimon exclaimed.

“Big trouble!!” he stopped in front of them, exhausted, “A kid named Taisuke got one of those strange shards you were talking about!”

“W-what!?” Daisuke exclaimed.

“Taisuke-kun?” Hikari frowned.

“Do you know him, Hikari-chan?” Takeru asked.

“Yeah, he’s a kid wanting Taichi to pick him as a student…” Tailmon shrugged.

“Like someone else used to do” Patamon smiled, Daisuke blushed.

“I-it was a long time ago…!!” Then he looked at Agumon, “Where’s him? Which digimon did he evolve into??”

“He didn’t, he…”

“SPITFIRE!!”

Agumon and the group dodges from a fireball shot by BlackAgumon, who was in front of Taisuke. The kid pouted, “Ow, stop running away and fight me!!”

“I don’t want to fight you!!” Agumon shouted, “You shouldn’t use that shard on you--”

“Shut up! You’re such a coward! Face me! I will show you I can be a Chosen Child too!!”

“Hey, kid” Daisuke stared at him, clenching his fist, “If you wanna fight someone… Do not use dirty tricks like those shards! Give it to us, now… Before your digimon runs amok!”

“Do you think I will fall for it? BlackAgumon is fine, Now… Fight me.”

“Alright… V-mon!” Daisuke cracked his knuckles, “We will have to take it by force!”

“Got it!” and V-mon ran towards BlackAgumon, “BOOM BOOM PUNCH!!”

That opponent was fast and dodged V-mon’s punches. BlackAgumon then shot another fireball against V-mon. Luckily, V-mon managed to hop to the side, escaping from the fireball.

“They’re fast…!” Takeru exclaimed.

“W-what!?” Daisuke squinted his eyes, meanwhile the kid was grinning. This made Daisuke feel more irritated.

“Hehehe!!” Taisuke laughed, “Now, BlackAgumon!!”

BlackAgumon moved too fast for V-mon’s speed, and he got hit by a flurry of kicks. V-mon couldn’t escape or block them all, so he got hit!! Then, BlackAgumon used an uppercut on V-mon and finished with a fireball. V-mon was hit and thrown closer to Daisuke and the group.

“V-MON!!” the 02 trio, their mons and Agumon screamed in shock.

“Gah… ack…” V-mon fainted. Daisuke went to him and took the poor digimon from the ground, helding him in his arms.

“V-mon, a-are you… Are you okay?? Talk to mee, V-mon!!”

“Tsk, So this is the legendary Motomiya Daisuke’s power?” the kid scoffed.

“Y-YOU! LITTLE--!!” Daisuke was furious, but Takeru put a hand on his shoulder, making him look back and then the blonde boy shook his head.

“Now, Agumon… Will you fight or run away like a coward?”

“We won’t allow you to keep harassing Agumon or Daisuke-kun like this!” Hikari snapped, then she took her D-3, “Light Digimental Up!”

“Oh, I know what you mean…!” Takeru nodded, and took this digivice as well, “Hope Digimental Up!”

Both Tailmon and Patamon Armor-evolved into Nefertimon and Pegasusmon respectively. Then they used their combined technique to form a net of golden strings and catch Taisuke and BlackAgumon. Then, the kids and Agumon mounted on the armor digimon and left, taking V-mon to Joe.

“Ghn!!” Taisuke growled, “COME BACK HERE, YOU BULLIES!!”

Someone appeared in front of the kid and the digimon. It was… Noel.

“H-hey, mister can you help us?”

“...”

Joe treated V-mon’s wounds, and he opened his slowly, regaining consciousness and glancing at the humans and their digimon around him.

“V-mon!!”

“Uugh, what happened?” the blue digimon was hug by Daisuke tightly, “O-ouch, Daisuke--”

“You only got obliterated by another Agumon,” Patamon said, but he wasn’t joking. He was quite worried, “Are you okay now?”

“Uh… A bit…” Daisuke let him go, and he then looked at the group “Daisuke… Everyone… That digimon….”

“Is not a digimon,” Agumon finished V-mon’s line.

“H-how??” Daisuke blinked.

“It’s a plush turned into a digimon!”

“Like a Dark Tower digimon?” Takeru asked rhetorically, “Then it wouldn’t be hard to undo the spell…”

“Taisuke has the fragment…” Agumon frowned, “I remember seeing it turn into a fake digivice… Since he got it, he started challenging me… He changed drastically from the boy we know…”

“Envy, hmm??” Noel’s right eye was not covered by his bangs this time, “Interesting that they picked someone closer to Yagami siblings… Kamiya Taisuke. You’re the son of one of the Yagami siblings’ cousins, am I correct?”

“A-ah…!! H-how do you know--”

“You just confirmed it.”

“W-what!? H-hey, please mister, help me out…!!”

“If you gently hand the shard you have to me, maybe?”

“If I do that I won’t be a Chosen Child anymore!!”

“Then good luck trying to get out of there.”

“W-wait I… I will give you the shard!”

“Very well, so… un, deux, trois~” he snapped his fingers. Espimon came and removed the net over them, “Now hand me the fragment, please?”

“Ah, thinking about it I won’t!” and he put his tongue out, “BYEE!!” he and BlackAgumon ran away.

Noel watched the boy running away, with a throbbing "cross popping" vein in his head.

“He… he fooled you, didn’t he?” Espimon commented awkwardly.

“... Well, it doesn’t matter. This only makes things even more interesting.”

“Y-you can’t be serious…!” she babbled.

Taisuke and BlackAgumon kept running through the streets, until he accidentally bumped into Ken.

“Ack!” the little child shouted, “Hey, look where you’re goin-- Oh!!”

“Hm?” Ken blinked, “It was you who came running into my direction…”

“You… Fight me! Fight me now!”

“I don’t think we should fight because of that…” Wormmon panicked.

“It doesn’t matter, I have to fight the Chosen Children if I want to be one!

“Isn’t this the kid Daisuke-san told us to look for?” Wormmon asked Ken, who nodded in response.

“Wow, I’m getting famous! People are hearing about me now!!”

“Look, I agree with Wormmon and we don’t need to fight,” Ken said gently, “You’re in real danger if you keep using that shard. Please, let me have it.”

“Ugh, you’re also after my digivice!?” Taisuke pouted, “I won’t give it in! Bye--” But when he started to run, Wormmon used his Sticky Net ability to pull him back, like a yo-yo “EEK!!”

“Sorry, but we can let you take any risks” Ken said seriously, he tried being reasonable with the kid again, “Please, hand me it.”

“NO!” The shard-digivice started to shine, and BlackAgumon evolved into MetalGreymon (Virus). It tried to attack Ken, but Wormmon jumped in front of his partner and evolved into Stingmon. 

Stingmon took Ken and dodged the attack. MetalGreymon caught the kid and flew away.

“... I have bad memories about that digimon” Ken sighed, it was like watching a phantom of his past being revived.

Ken warned the group about what happened and they felt it would be even harder to stop Taisuke now. V-mon was hurt, but maybe Patamon and Tailmon could solve it…? Miyako started using the power of the internet and social media to locate MetalGreymon.

The group were sure he was after Agumon and, to some extent, Taichi. Hikari didn’t want her brother to get hurt, so she decided they had advantage in hands if they used Angewomon.

“I found them!!” Miyako said on the phone, “They’re in the deck area.”

Hikari, Takeru, Ken and Iori went there instead. Daisuke stayed in the university hospital with V-mon and Agumon. Maybe… Just those four can be enough. Miyako was working as their navigator through phone calls and messages.

“Taisuke-kun! Please stop!” Hikari begged politely, “This will hurt you if it goes out of control!!”

“NO!” the kid pouted, “I WON’T GIVE IT IN, THIS IS MY DIGIVICE AND MY DIGIMON!!”

“He’s not a real digimon!” Takeru shouted, “That MetalGreymon is just a puppet!”

“HOW DARE YOU…!! MetalGreymon… Get ’em all!!”

“Takeru” / “Hikari” / “Iori” the digimon looked at their partners. Stingmon was also ready to rumble. 

“Right!” the kids nodded, and then got their D-3 digivices.

The digimon evolved (and super-evolved, in Tailmon’s case) to their adult (and perfect) forms. MetalGreymon attacked, releasing his Giga Destroyer missiles against them, but Angemon and Angewomon destroyed them with Heaven’s Knuckle and Holy Arrow techniques. Ankylomon and Stingmon tried a melee attack, by using Tail Hammer and Spiking Finish at the opponent, but MetalGreymon kept being faster than a normal digimon… perhaps because of it being basically a plush come to life.

“It’s not working…!!” Takeru gasped.

“HA, are you losers ready to give up??” Taisuke smirked, “Me digimon is stronger and faster than yours--”

Suddenly faster than the naked eye got the shard-digivice from the boy’s hand. Yes, it was him… Arsenemon.

“GAH! MY DIGIVICE!!” Taisuke panicked, “H-HOW DID YOU--”

“Oeil de Chat” he snapped his fingers and a small black cat with green eyes magically popped in front Taisuke’s face. The cat’s eyes met with Taisuke’s and suddenly the boy fell asleep in Asrenemon’s arms.

“What did you do!?” Angewomon flew in his direction, but the burglar just gently put the child in her arms, “H-huh…??”

“He’s asleep,” he said nonchalantly, “Now it’s your chance to beat MetalGreymon. I suggest using your holy powers on it, that plush might be too precious for him to get permanently destroyed.”

“... Why are you helping us again?” 

“Why wouldn’t I help you? Think about it being a trade-off for this little piece here.”

“Did he…” Ankylomon looked at Iori and the others.

“I think he did indeed…” Iori, blinked. When he looked at Hikari, she was definitely giving that digimon a deadly stare.

“What?!” Angewomon also stared at him under her helmet.

“Au revoir ~” and then he just vanished before Angewomon could even strangle him.

“W-well… Angemon, can you turn MetalGreymon into a plush again…?” Takeru tried to change the subject.

Angemon super-evolved into HolyAngemon and used his sacred powers on the plush, which also stopped moving the moment Taisuke fell asleep. And thus, the MetalGreymon enemy turned back into a tiny Botamon plush.

“It was a bad choice,” the eyepatched Impmon pouted, “We should’ve caught that tall guy called Yagami Taichi instead!” and then he left… only to accidentally find Noel on the way “Gah?! A human--”

“What you’re doing is unforgivable” he said, staring at the small digimon with his green eyes, “Consider it a warning: If you mess with any of those Chosen Children again, or anyone closer to them…”

“Oh what? What will a human like you do?”

“... You might not want to know,” and then he left.

While returning home, Ken and Stingmon just caught (by sheer accident) that scene, but… There was something else they caught…

Noel had been tossing something to air and catching it. Something shiny… Was that one of the forbidden Digimental shards?

“... I need to talk to Takeru-kun about something.” Ken told Stingmon, “Please, take me to his building.”

“Alright.”

What would it be…?

[velvetporcelain]

When I read about World War II, I often think of the innocent more than the war itself. How much they didn’t know, how much they didn’t have to see. How much they trample on a good life.

We cannot define true horror. In all the wars over time, what has really been accomplished? In the book 1984, they say:

“War is peace”

“Freedom is slavery”

“Ignorance is strength”

And these quotes have been really sitting with me since I’ve read them. You know, when you read something and it completely twists your perspective and perception at the same time? Yeah, like that.

I woke up this morning, again, thank you. Thank you to the invisible force of life. This body loves me and I love it, but I can love it more, I know what kind of love I am capable of, and apart of my “sadness” is expecting someone else to give me that love. Selfish? I don’t know because we are made for love, whether it be war or peace. It is extreme.

Today the sun shines and the wind gently moves the leaves and it sounds like rain if you didn’t know. I am grateful to be living, thriving, learning, experiencing. I want to embrace my capacity to the fullest.

Yesterday I was able to realize that my mental exhaustion was projecting into my body language and not become angry or anxious with anyone. Is this regulation? Maybe so. It felt good to admit and act accordingly instead of acting out for attention. There was a lot of thought that ran through my entire body this weekend.

I think a lot about the impulsive nature of humans. Where do we draw the line? Is it between bad decisions and the desire to experience something? Or is it our desire to talk and connect with humans? I fear nothing of the sort. If there is anything that I am fearful of it would be suffering, but not being alone. I once was afraid of being alone but I know that I am never alone, especially when I am in my thoughts, this is where I like to be the most and I usually feel my best when I am alone. Constantly surrounded by something so routine and concrete I don’t mind inviting my spontaneous nature into the picture.

Please, take a good look at the things in front of you and the people in your life that make it worth celebrating and communicating with. Out of all things that are similar in life, humans are granted the ability to speak, have a voice. I encourage you today to use it for love and companionship.

We have no time or space for hate, but we have infinite room for love.

-x

[purple-compromise]

[A fun BLU Specialist-centric fic submitted by @taytay4674788 Thank you so, so much for sharing this!! 💜]

Yeah this took a while between tumblr being weird with glitches and going back and forth with support on unresolved issues since October. But I think I found a temporary way to submit stuff to you at least at the moment ( at least 8 pages of fic in google docs).

I originally wanted to do a double take moment via a dream but it didn’t make much sense to do so with red spesh(and that’s going to be with a different character instead ;) )… So I ended up doing an eight page half character study half second half story with Blu spesh instead, as I enjoy making characters suffer having them question their own morals! It might be Ooc for both blu med(to be fair blu med would likely relish in torture in you wronged him or to send a message, especially if it’s from the enemy team) and blu spesh but I’d love to hear thoughts anyway since it’s been nearly a solid year since my last actual fic, on top of the fact that this is my first reader fic and first time writing the mercs. There is a part one to this fic, I just held it off since I had better flow with this one and I’m still trying to figure out dialogue, characterization and a few other details so the period of time is intentionally vague so it can act as a stand alone.All I know is that it takes place after chapter 31 in TIWWAN, and this is on the in-game Badlands control point map, not Teufort, not the overall arching map of The Badlands.

Very important distinction.

_______________

You aren’t a bad person for taking this job. You knew that you’d get money,good money. Highest pay rate than anywhere in this backwater wasteland to send back home and still have enough to indulge into cigarettes daily from the dinky corner store in town.

So should it disturb you as much as it really should?

You kill each other out on the field every day, with most of the time the Red bastards push through to capture a point. So really it should be an equal retribution in all things considered. She kills you, you kill her. It’s all equal in the circle of life in a private war funded by cash that even the IRS wouldn’t shy an eye away from collecting all of it if it weren’t for Miss Pauling. You may have been the family disappointment to drop out of college, but you’re sure as hell that you’re not letting your sister do so. She has viable dreams to chase, well you, just need a little more time to figure it out.

Flicking open the nice red and white packaging of your care unit of cigarettes into your crisp uniform pocket of your assigned blue uniform, hair neatly tucked and out of the way. Counting under your breath the fresh cigarettes left in your case; you’ll be going to town this weekend to get some more. You’ve been saving the ones Spy has acquired for you, towards .. a later occasion, for when it really matters. For now, the ones from the corner store are going to suffice, even if it just tastes like chemically processed tobacco.

Your boots, a bit dusty from today’s scrimmage against those Red team bastards, click gently against the quiet blue dirt stained concrete. Making your way out through the hall passing cold steel to have a quiet smoke, the hum of electricity droning a bit too loudly in your ears for your taste. Maybe staring up at the stars for a bit if it isn’t cloudy again tonight. Sometimes it brings peace when you can’t listen to rerun broadcasts of Earplay on the radio that Engineer built for your team, that is when you could get more than the two stations Tuefort has and.. When you’re in the mood.. For that sort of.. Media. Yet, it’s a bit of romance and entertainment you needed while waiting for The Firesign Theatre to release their latest album of dramas.

Art keeps you human, on a fragile equilibrium from diving into the pure insanity that is your team. Being paid to kill humans, who well, keep reviving through technology that most would strive to get their hands on to achieve immortality. It can be a nasty sentiment that you don’t like to think about when it crawls up. How humans with bonds can and will destroy each other over the smallest discrepancies out of greed.

The uncanny valley isn't a physical place, only one of the mind. Diving straight into your soul. To unsettle yourself from the basic facts of life.. At least.. As you know them.

Does it unsettle you, walking past the infirmary in the evening, peeking through the infirmary double doors carelessly left open as if it was an actual medical emergency. It probably would’ve been, if the ones screaming bloody murder weren’t .. feminine screams, ones that match your own after taking a buckshot to the back. To witness a struggle between your team's medic and a visage of yourself trying to fend back clearly being overpowered from experimental medicine. Her blood, iron instead of standard antiseptic, attacking your senses. Nearly being able to taste it despite it being scattered on the floor and not on your hands this time. A mess against the contrast of the lack of life in the sterile halls collecting dust and oil. Fluorescent lights screaming out with a buzz with an underlying static tone against your heart rate. One needle that you can tell, already sticking out from her dominant arm, it’s different from the standard syringes your medic uses while in battle. Then again he’s mentioned offhand about a crossbow type weapon that he’s been gloating in development as of late, at least whenever you had an issue that a cigarette couldn't solve. His blue scheme of a lab coat is disrupted by large splotches of crimson soaking into the material on his shoulder, while she is struggling to keep awake. Grimacing on her face definitely indicates that something more than–

“Fräulein!-”

The loud slamming of metal trays holding medical instruments against the concrete floor in an escape attempt off the gurney forces you to jump back in a bit of pain and out of sightline. The sudden loudness to look away from the sight, forcing you out of your thoughts to cower, covering your ears. Gunshots are one thing, metal on concrete is probably worse. Oh definitely you’re going to get her on the battlefield for that one.

For only a moment that you consider that maybe he has one shred of decency in him. He rarely, if never takes a charity case on the field, especially for the enemy team. Perhaps that there’s actually a moral compass in there somewhere; trying to maybe preserve her life from whatever injuries—

Smack!

The sickening short sound echoing out of the infirmary reverberates against your heart. Shouts of insulting degradation, an unnatural sounding crack resulting in a sharp feminine cry of pain shortly following his remarks. Something you aren’t accustomed to outside of combat, especially not coming from yourself.

A quiet sigh further reinforces your gut judgment of character into actual fact of life about your medic. Not surprising in the slightest. Blue is not a calming color on this team, regardless of what literary analysis says.

Glancing back in as your team’s medic degrades your red counterpart, her coat’s thrown across the floor soaking up drying blood. No sign of visible weaponry as far as you could tell between the scuffling. You don’t know a lick of German, and don’t care to learn, but his expression reads of one who clearly has the upper hand in this fight as far as you can tell. His weight shifts quickly to keep her pinned down with one arm as she still flails to get him off. She is rightfully terrified, attempting to calculate another escape route struggling against the gurney, not seeing a needle sedative of some sort ready to inject into her flesh; hiding behind his back presumably grabbing from one of the smaller trays not immediately by the gurney. Only for your counterpart to use any means of what’s left functioning to get away from him, grasping at the restraints to undo them one handedly. Really the only time you could sympathize with her. If you could help her, you would. Her death is on the battlefield, not one on one with your medic who breaks femurs for amusement. As of now, you can only offer pity.

He’s absolutely playing god for his own benefit, and dialing it up beyond 10. Evidently in the vindictive smile he wears as his blue gloved hand wrapped around her throat. Relishing in her distorted chokes, her body still convulsing to fight his grip. Probably leaving a bruise if she doesn’t get sent through respawn first. Her distress is that his other hand is probably touching open wounds, likely in retaliation of some sort.

It’s something you’ve known all along, nor does it surprise you by any means. However, a human trained in pharmaceuticals to lose their shit on a patient who’s at a current physical disadvantage.. And torturing them in a way to send a message, seeking vengeance outside of the battlefield, leaves a distaste in your mouth.

It furthers your questioning of how your own medic sees you. You already knew that he sees you as a sack of organs waiting to be mixed and matched into a chimera abomination. A chill courses down into your spine in a pale realization.

Who’s to stop him from treating you the same way he does her? A paycheck?

You need a cigarette.

You don’t think that you’re a bad person, the medic on your team would absolutely flip your organs around like a 1,000 piece puzzle, pushing the limit of functioning. Interfering with his latest vanity project of immortality, is not worth being under the knife instead of your counterpart. That’s a fight between him and his counterpart for data, not you to be a martyr for someone who knew what she signed up for. Shrieks and swears threaten to distract you from your internal justifications once again.

It hits you, she’s been able to beat you down on the field before and has most definitely sent you straight back to respawn before. She should be able to defeat this man single handedly by all things considered in terms of adrenaline strength, you think. Briefly glossing over that Engineer had stayed back to test out a prototype of a sentry model and a few other machines outside. Mentioned it back at dinner a couple nights back about improving positioning and range, recalling that conversation in your mind. But even then, a normal sentry hasn’t completely taken her down with her shield without an übercharge, it at least hasn’t with your own shield by any means when you’re paying attention and not getting shot at from their loudmouth Scout. For now, you stare back to the corkboard filled with notes neatly laying on beige and blue paint on the walls. Looking for a rationalized answer, as if the corkboard of past events and reminders would just give it to you.

Memory flickers back from earlier before shift, Medic mentioning about a crossbow weapon in development. Something about needing a longer range, in order to focus on building über to take out the Red team, truly you have a tendency to tune out the bastard most of the time. Really it wouldn’t surprise you if it was really an excuse for him to just build über with Heavy. He’d probably stick that Medigun of his right up Heavy's ass if he physically could with how he doesn’t heal much of anyone else on his own team, except at the beginning of the match. Your eyes slowly search back into the blast of fluorescents, she still wriggling under his touch, an animal trying to gnaw off its leg caught in a trap to escape.

She probably would’ve struck equal if the ever increasing mass of needles, at least one that you’re guessing is a numbing agent, weren't stuck in her dominant arm. Only one of them you recognize from surgery, the others just look indistinguishable from his syringe gun but its size forces you to swallow down spit in your dry throat. Her fingers are trying to feel for something as the metal doesn’t feel crisp, spitting at your medic in disgust. Mentioning something about adjusting the contents of whatever he shot her with, the nut case being overwhelmingly gleeful about it too. Her, while you give her credit for being a fighter, slowly keeps searching to leverage against. Anything to try and gain an advantage.

Her eyes, realizing you are still staring into a macabre mirror of horror, locking into yours, silently pleading to you for a swift death. Something to get out of his hands. The air drops into a cold you haven’t felt in sometime, as all you could do was stare back at her. Reaching out if her closest arm wasn’t restrained down against the gurney, minimally in spirit. At least for a moment, before a natural response averts the moment into one of resistance from instruments of surgery to shredding flesh.

Is it wrong to outright deny mercy in a power imbalance to your enemy who is clearly begging for it?

Would she grant that same mercy to you?

The flashes of her pleading for death on a doctor's gurney in your mind, processing the unnaturality of it. Not that you fight her everyday over god knows what, or that she’s in surgery, the contrast of red outside the battlefield is supposed to be the remnants of blood medic should be cleaning up. Not dissecting a patient from the enemy team after hours.

For you to imagine intervening and putting a bullet between her eyes out of mercy has a different moment of surrealism. Yes you’ve insulted, spat on, kicked, trampled over her corpse, and probably broke her nose with more force than necessary more than a few times during work hours.. you.. easily forget when indulging in victory when the final bell rings at 3pm.. just not 7:38 in the evening, looking at a reflection where a mirror isn’t supposed to be.

You really need a cigarette.

Peeling yourself away from the sights and sounds of yourself, jittery hands reach for a lighter in the opposing pocket. Deliberately ignoring the drying blood on the floors trailing through the halls, that you noticed taking a second glance. The scent of iron you didn’t create slowly leaves your senses. Forcing the chilling screams fading back into echoes once again. Letting your body go on autopilot towards a quieter spot towards the exit door as the sounds of the infirmary become mere echoes. To the sound of comforting footsteps at this moment in time. Flipping the lip of the white and red box to reach for the safe constant of tobacco.

The Badlands despite being a natural wasteland spanning several acres.. Does have its own natural beauty when not roasting alive underneath the harsh sun of the New Mexico desert. Really the moments of transition between night and day are poetic in their own right. A production ending with a curtain call each day, skipping over the rehearsal and casting call; Straight on to the show for the next morning. A repetitive show that doesn’t truly conclude.

Click, click, click

The cold lighter shakes slightly as you try to focus on just having a quiet smoke. Your thumb brushes over the smoothness of the lighter as you close it with a solid click. Trying to wipe away.. whatever the hell you’d encountered back there.

Inhaling spicy warm tobacco gives you comfort from the thoughts and guilt of your mind. A walk, your brain drifts, is what you need. Exhaling out a puff of gray smoke, admiring the sun slowly setting into the evening sky. The cirrus clouds clawing through the sky breaking the gradient of the evening, layering clouds upon itself as your shadows trails further behind you. The dirt and sand kicking up under your boots, heels dragging along creating a path in the quiet desert, straying away from base the nightlife slowly waking up to their circadian rhythm against the machine guns and soaking of the day’s bloody rain.

Your peace.. is disrupted from the following of loud curses in German, maybe a different dialect but you can’t quite tell if it’s the echo.. And distinct, American English echoing through the landscape. Which is to be expected, after all, she’s patient zero for an upgrade in immortality that’s what you could gather from the medical record from your first intelligence grab. A big game of capture the flag, really.

With a syringe gun and shotgun pointed out barreling towards you, you throw your hands up that’s normally reserved for a bitter defeat. Yes, your Commander is at the ready if their idiotic Soldier starts blasting at you for existing in blue; but if the fight is unpaid it’s not worth your time. Your Soldier may berate you for insubordination or some shit, and the worst side of the spectrum is that Medic might schedule a sudden examination of your internal organs. Getting sent through respawn after hours isn’t worth buying time for someone you loathe to be around. Besides, as long as your Red counterpart doesn’t screw up by doing something incredibly stupid, you’ve got free room and board. A class on both sides or none at all, right?

You roll your eyes as their incredibly loud Soldier, starts barking orders and pumps his shotgun, presumably to aim at your chest. Incessant arguing increasingly becomes irritating to the disagreement you’re not even a part of. At least their medic has enough of a brain to identify a peace offering when he sees one.

Their Medic dressed in red narrows his brows in suspicion. Granted from his irritation, he himself has slathers of blood covering his lab coat, the dust decorating him in an offset of brown glitter. Working on who, well with an enormously large figure hauling a large glintering silver barrel at his side just pacing further behind from the duo here? Well it doesn’t take a ton of context clues to figure it out.

“It’s too much of a lovely evening to be standing out here in the desert. Might want to check out the infirmary for sunburns. The desert is harsh on skin after all.”

Pulling the cigarette out of your mouth for a moment to flick the glowing embers to the dusty earth, the dry smoke blowing from your lips. Their medic, placing themselves a bit more forward probably to keep their soldier from shooting you into swiss cheese. The desert sands carrying your voice out further towards the enemies who shoot you up on a daily basis, a sigh escaping from your lungs,

“ Fellas! I didn’t sign up for unpaid overtime, you don’t exist to me after that final point is captured at 3pm.”

Your eyes connect to try and read their next move, syringe and shotguns still not fully lowered. Obvious distrust, needing more information that clearly isn’t a trap into an ambush. Or a spy posing as you from your own team. After all, you’d hope at least some of your teammates would hold you to have a similar weight of importance in their eyes if Red ever decides to pluck you in retaliation from this event.

You nudge your head slightly towards base, as a directional guide. A puff of smoke exhaling out from your mouth, blocking the view of two visibly stern faces of your sights.

“Mighty shame that our Engineer hasn’t been able to fix our defective emergency exit alarms near our second point, yet..” A specific piece of information needed to earn trust, I mean your Engineer has been caught up with a few different projects lately, neglecting any other maintenance that he can easily fix around this particular base. But it is on his list to fix, whether he actually has gotten to it is yet to be foreseen. It’s up to the Administrator now to decide if an evening brawl would be worthy to add to the workday. That would be a nightmare.

“I’m sure he’ll get to it once he gets a break.”

Clear cut eyes still question your authority, not the answer of a go ahead for a temporary truce. Really, it likely had the opposite effect with their fingers sliding towards the trigger, while your tired hands are slowly seceding to your own gun. If they fire first, well, it shows a reflection of their own character. That or they need more of an outright spelled out truth. Which really, the lead paint they must’ve licked, had done more damage than what New York State had initially found in their own population.

“Don’t bother to waste your bullets–”

A quiet snark leaving your throat, the smoke escaping your lips as the warm cigarette rests between your forefingers.

“–Sending me through respawn only gives him more time.”

Fallen ash singes against the cooling desert sand, drifting back into the earth between the gentle breeze. Their soldier, becoming increasingly antsy about the lack of gunpowder flying into the air, doesn't even bother to hide it on his face. To level the amount of testosterone of ego out on a 3 v 1, your eyes connect with the shade of crimson with a cross that trails up to their medic.

“She needs you more than what I’m worth in wasted time.”

Perhaps in a way, bargaining for a favor without outright stating it, being saved for a later date not explicitly labeled. You haven’t once brandished your gun for a show of power, nor have they shot you up into a million pieces. Granting mercy to bloodthirsty mercenaries. Aside from some on your team berating you for inaction, the Administrator has eyes everywhere in the Badlands, not just this particular map of dust. You’ve seen the hawking cameras blinking in dark corners documenting everyone’s moves. Could it land you under Miss Pauling’s quicklime? Possibly.. If it’s a repeated behavior, however, you don’t foresee that happening again. If their medic is anything like yours, it’s possible that your counterpart would be tethered to him on the field. Given her judgments and of what little Spy has shared in code, you seriously doubt that she’ll listen to even her own healer of the team.

You’re only here for money, not to worry about anyone else. It’s the entire point of why you’re here in the first place, not to brawl it out 24/7.

Are you putting too much faith in your enemies? Quite likely, but maybe you can guilt one of the three of them for a favor down the line if this fragile equilibrium, at some point, falls apart. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a risk you’re willing to take. A life for a life won’t leverage its own weight in a world of daily rebirth by bloodshed. A debt for a debt holds a hierarchy in a lawless land.

Their medic, jaw clenched, must've struck a nerve somewhere but refuses to show it. Giving a silent eye to their Heavy for a silent reassurance of the next step. While their Soldier is barely keeping restraint to shoot something on behalf of Uncle Sam or for the honor of America. A brief moment of silence, before sharp eyes reacknowledge your peace bargain.

“Danke.”

A 2/3rd agreement to keep moving forward, while Soldier grumbling at sparing the life of an enemy. He may be trigger happy because you exist in blue, but at the least is willing to half recognize a peace offering with information.

The barrage of dust and sand kicks back up, as their plans of attack fade with the movement of tumbleweeds strolling alongside you under a waning moon. Hand resting in the comfort of your coat pockets. Your cigarette, a dim beacon of light against the growing darkness in the night sky. Stars peeking out against the handful of bright lights against wooden shacks against the field.

The logistics of morality in private combat is ever changing, and quite frankly gives you a headache to try and think about “doing the right thing” when following the money supports your family. Your heart only knows one certainty when it comes to such mental conflicts on the field.

You’re not a bad person.

____________

A few fun facts with the research I did for this fic:

New York city was the first city to outlaw further usage of lead paint in 1960 before New York state followed through banning usage of lead paint in the late 70s. Lead was effectively banned in 1986, however it didn’t apply to pipes that were already in the ground and walls already painted with lead, it only banned new lead pipes to be placed in for usage beyond. https://www.nyc.gov/site/doh/health/health-topics/lead-poisoning-information-for-building-owners.page

https://www.brookings.edu/blog/up-front/2021/05/13/what-would-it-cost-to-replace-all-the-nations-lead-water-pipes/

I had to take a few liberties with blue spesh and a bit of history too, so I figured that she might get enjoyment out of radio dramas since her inspiration of doing theater in university before dropping out had to come from somewhere. The 70s had a dry spell of radio dramas, since reruns of shows weren’t really commonplace and many live radio dramas were performed live on air in the 40s and 50s until recording media for reruns. Earplay is an actual radio drama that aired in 1972 until 1982 but got picked up by other networks at least until the 1990s.But for this fic its gonna be running a bit earlier than 1972. The Firesign Theatre actually did have some albums for their shows, before their second split.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Firesign_Theatre#Albums