#just because you are hiding behind the screen it does not excuse you from being abusive

[puck-luck]

code-breaker | jack hughes

warnings: pining!, unprotected p in v, lots of miscommunication but it is resolved duh, lmao uhhhhh jack fucking his best friend's sister maybe? kind of a big plot point fasho, a lame excuse for a squirt, cum on da body (chest), eating come, lots of banter, tiny TINY bit of angst and insecurity on fem!reader's part pairing: jack hughes x zegras!reader request: cappy's "sister of the best friend, lake house, etc. sister makes the first move and the guy tries to turn her down out of loyalty to the other boy and she gets a little hurt and insecure thinking he's rejecting her and she's like "am i really that bad?" with her voice craking and he's like fuck then... smut!" wc: 4327

Jack is here. 

Jack, who you’ve been in love with since your twin brother started hanging out with him when they were in NTDP together. Jack, the New Jersey Devils’ prized star, the number one pick. Jack, the most annoying and most attractive brother of the esteemed Hughes family from Michigan. Yes, that Jack is here– ‘here’ being your apartment that you share with your brother in Anaheim now that Jamie has moved out and away.

Jack is here. You are here. Trevor is not.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you tell him awkwardly, still holding the door open and blocking the doorway. You’re all too aware of your lazy, solo-movie-night outfit as you stand in front of him. You’re clad only in a big shirt, one that normally reaches the middle of your thighs but has ridden up since your hands are raised and resting against the doorframe, and your favorite pair of panties. You did laundry earlier and showered, your big exciting thing of the day being that you could but on your favorite underwear and be lazy as soon as you finished the chore of folding your clothes. “Trevor’s in New York right now.”

“I know,” Jack says, a hand on his suitcase. The other is clenched by his side. “I have a meeting in LA tomorrow so he said I could stay here while he was gone.”

“Oh,” you reply, feeling silly. It would’ve been nice if your brother had told you that Jack was coming and staying here while he was gone, considering you’d made plans to be alone all night tonight. Trevor always does shit like this– he makes plans and then forgets to tell you until someone shows up or he has to leave to meet them. It’s frustrating. “Come on in, then.”

You move to the side, gesturing for Jack to enter the apartment, and he does. His suitcase rolls in behind him, just a little carry on, and he leaves it beside the door where he kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands make their way to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “I’ll, uh, go change into something more–”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jack interrupts, waving you off. He clears his throat. “You don’t have to change on my account. I’m interrupting your night of–” 

He looks to the couch and the coffee table, littered with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine that you had been drinking out of, straight from the spout. Your movie is paused on the screen, a silly Disney Channel movie that had come out when you and Trevor were children and still hadn’t lost its touch yet. You’re hoping that Jack doesn’t recognize the screencap, but Mel’s Lemonade machine fills the screen and if he’s seen Lemonade Mouth at all, he’ll know what movie you’re watching.

“Disney Channel and wine,” Jack finishes, pinching his lips to hide the amusement in his voice.

You frown, even though you want to burst into laughter with him. It is silly, what you’re doing, but you were supposed to be alone and who are you to be ashamed of your guilty pleasures?

“Don’t make fun,” you admonish, crossing your arms with a pout. “I thought I had the apartment to myself.”

“I’m not making fun!” Jack denies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s nice that you’re having a me-party.”

He’s referencing the other time he’s interrupted when you’re having a movie night on your own, when you watched The Muppets (2011) at the lake house because the boys were out on the boat and you had gotten a nasty sunburn the day before, so you’d stayed in. Jack had come back early because he was hungry, making the boys drop him off at the dock before going back out, and caught you red-handed with his favorite kind of pretzels and a half-full bottle of margarita next to the blender. 

You blush, glaring at him slightly. “Shut up, Jack.”

“No, this is perfect,” Jack continues, glowing a little as his shit-eating smile builds. He walks over to the couch and plops down, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig before wiping his mouth. “I’m already dressed for a lazy night in, I shouldn’t waste it.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you complain. “You know you don’t want to watch this movie with me.”

“Why not?” He challenges, another tilt of the bottle pouring the fruity liquid down his throat. He spreads his legs when he sits as all the boys do, taking up as much space as he can. 

“Because you won’t like it,” you say. “And because I wasn’t planning on having you here.”

“Were you planning on having someone else here?” Jack teases. “Popcorn, red wine, a movie, no pants… I think I see the writing on the wall.”

“No, God, shut up, Jack!” You repeat with a huff, returning to the couch and curling up against the opposite arm, far away from the boy. “Just be quiet while I watch my movie. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some popcorn.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows at you, sticking out his tongue. You pull at the bottom of your shirt again, making sure that your panties aren’t visible when he looks over. This is already humiliating enough– you don’t need your long-time crush seeing your underwear, too.

You hit play and turn the volume up loud enough to drown out any comments Jack might make. You’re lucky the movie is short, because he’s an antsy boy who loves to talk, just like your brother, and you can tell that he’s anxious to start another conversation.

As the credits roll, you mute the television and turn to him. “What?” You demand, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce and shoving your hands into your lap to stretch your shirt over the space between your legs. 

“You really didn’t have plans tonight?” Jack asks. “It’s a Saturday night and you live in LA. You’re in your twenties. You didn’t want to have anyone over?”

You flush, but it’s less out of embarrassment and more out of anger. “Judgemental much, Hughes? Not all of us have people throwing themselves at our feet any given day of the week.” You grind your teeth, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath. You stare at him, refusing to break eye contact. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to form opinions on your life. You know exactly what he’s insinuating– why aren’t you out there getting laid, Y/N? and it’s frustrating because it’s the same question you ask yourself whenever your friends text about their recent hookups or whenever Trevor brings a girl back to the apartment. 

More than anything, you don’t want Jack judging you. You know that your Saturday night plans are lame, but that’s why you wanted to be alone. 

Jack falls quieter, your reaction diluting his crooked, toothy smirk that he reserves for the people he knows well. “I’m surprised you don’t have– people. Throwing themselves at you.”

He’s awkward when he says it, too awkward not to make you suspicious.

He’s avoiding eye contact, picking at his nailbeds. 

“Would you?” You ask, directly to the point. You’re making a point, too– you’ve known Jack for years and he has never, not once, implied that he thinks you’re desirable. 

Jack says nothing, running his fingers through his hair and looking down. 

You nod to yourself and stand from the couch, still tugging at your shirt. You’re pulling it even lower now, the neckline dipping and stretching as you cover your legs up as best you can. “That’s what I thought,” you say quietly, a cold feeling washing through your chest and pressing down on the skin that your heart beats beneath. 

“I would,” Jack calls, just as you walk away. You’re positioned right in front of the door that leads to your bedroom when he says it, head hanging towards the ground so that he doesn’t see the frown on your face. 

His silence was a rejection and his afterthought is even worse. Nonetheless, you turn to face him. This time, it’s your silence that rings throughout the space.

“I would,” Jack repeats. “If, y’know. You weren’t–”

“Trevor’s sister,” You say, filling in the blanks and finishing his sentence. You nod, a tight, close-lipped, and pointed smile on your face. “You don’t have to explain, Jack. I realized a long time ago that my world would always revolve around Trevor.” Your hand is on the doorknob now, twisting it and cracking your door open. Your bed is right there and you can collapse into it in mere seconds, able to let your tears leak into your pillow silently as you remind yourself that you’re not as good as your twin brother once again, just as soon as you get these words out. “I know I can’t do or say the things I want to with the people I want to because they’re always thinking about Trevor.”

You could add, And why would you be any different? You know him best. Of course he’s the one you’re loyal to, but you decide against it. It’s too petty. It’s too mean. It’s too– real. 

You look at him one last time to bid him goodnight, already craving the following day when his meeting is over and he heads back to Michigan, far away from you and your un-desirability. The tight smile returns to your face, trying to smooth out your upset yet resigned features. It’s always the same thing. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s not. You’ve imagined this conversation in your head many times and each time you think rationally, you know that this is how it has to be.

He’s Jack Hughes, for God’s sake. You’re just Trevor Zegras’ less successful, lesser known twin sister.

“Trevor would kill me,” Jack says on a whim. “Really. He would. He would stand me up and punch me, right here.”

You’ve got one foot in your bedroom and one foot out. Despite the ice piercing through your chest, you can’t find it in yourself to be rude and close the door on him. You turn to face Jack again.

He’s sitting forward on the couch, hands clasped in front of him like a prayer. He moves them when he talks, lowering them and spreading them and gesturing with them. He’s always done that, ever since you’ve known him– it’s another way that he calls attention to himself and takes up space. It’s part of the reason why he’s so charming– he knows how to use his hands, how to touch someone to politely get them to move or to pull them closer or to playfully shoo them away. 

“If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing to him,” Jack continues. “It’s just– we can’t go for each others’ family. It’s against the code.”

You nod, slowly, exaggeratedly just to show him how nonsensical that sounds. “You realize it’s not up to Trevor to decide who you go out with,” you say. “That’s kind of your choice, Jack.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You shrug, then look away. Outside the living room window is a dark night, leaves blowing with the wind. 

“It could be,” you say after a moment. You’re not surprised to hear how resigned you sound. You learned to live with this a long time ago, so you know that pointing out how easily things could change is futile. You say it anyway. “If you wanted it to be. But, I get it. I’m your best friend’s sister. Maybe if I wasn’t, you’d consider–”

“I have considered,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve– well, you’ve seen it. All the guys have.”

You’re lost. It’s like he’s speaking in code. “I’ve seen what?” You ask, monotonous and silently yearning for your bed. Your patience is growing thin.

“You can’t be serious,” Jack responds with a laugh. He buries his face in his hands, muffling the noise. “Are you?”

“I’ve seen what,” you repeat, straight-faced and not entertaining this sudden bout of humor from the brunet boy.

“How I look at you when you’re in those tiny little swimsuits on the boat, or how I laugh when you make one of your stupid jokes that aren’t funny to anyone but you and Trevor,” Jack says. “You really never noticed?”

Now he’s just dangling your hopeless crush in front of you. You assumed he had noticed sometime over the years, but this is overkill. He’s never felt the same– that much is clear. It’s cruel that he thinks he can lead you to believe otherwise as a means to further tease you for being alone tonight.

You shake your head. “I never noticed because you never did any of those things, Jack. You’re just saying that to say it.”

He’s up in a flash, coming towards you and placing a hand flat on your bedroom door to prevent you from closing it and ending the conversation. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” Jack says.

“I don’t think it’s funny that you’re making fun of the little crush I’ve had on you since we were kids. You don’t feel the same way and I’m not an idiot.” You move to close the door again, but Jack pushes it open again. 

“You– I’m not making fun,” Jack stammers out, looking surprised. He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You have a crush on me?”

Your jaw drops and your face flames with humiliation. You thought he knew that you liked him and that he was making fun on purpose– and now you’ve accidentally revealed your massive, well-kept secret to his face. This was never supposed to happen. “You didn’t know?” You hiss, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack repeats, a smile spreading across his face. He steps closer, prompting you to back away.

“No. No,” you moan out, feeling positively ashamed and destroyed. Tonight is not turning out as you hoped it would.

Jack’s still smiling, closing your bedroom door softly behind him as he follows you into your room. 

You knock into the edge of your bed and sit, sinking into the mattress. Your hands are still pressed over your mouth as Jack kneels in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and holding them gently. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack says for a third time, his voice soft and subtly optimistic. The corner of his mouth curves up into the tiniest of smirks and you swear your face couldn’t get any more red.

All you can give him is a frown and a devastated wobble of your bottom lip. 

“Well, this changes everything,” Jack says, regaining his ability to joke, it seems. His next question is rhetorical and makes you swallow hard. “Who gives a fuck about Trevor when you feel the same way I do?” 

“You’re– you’re serious,” you say, still a thread of disbelief sewn into your words. “You weren’t kidding. You actually– thought about it.”

“Thought about it?” Jack asks. “Fuck, Y/N, I almost told you right before you left last summer, but then you said you were talking to that guy.”

You roll your eyes– that guy had only been in your life for about a month and you had only mentioned him because Jack had mentioned a girl he wanted to see. You tell him such– “I only brought him up because everyone was talking about their romantic interests and who they were interested in, I didn’t want to seem like a loser. You had some girl, too, Jack.”

“Some girl– that was you,” Jack reveals incredulously. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“You weren’t obvious at all!” You deny, mouth open in a scoff. 

“I thought that you mentioning that guy was your way of letting me down easy!”

“Yes, Jack, because I was going to reveal my feelings for you in a room full of both of our brothers. Good idea. You fucking idiot!”

Jack laughs aloud, throwing his head back. His face scrunches up and he smooths his face with his big palm at the end of his amusement. He fixes you with a look of glee and astonishment– something only hindsight can bring to his expression. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You shake your head, laughing with him for a moment before he swipes a thumb over your cheek, which stills you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, smile still gracing his face. “I can’t believe–”

“Me neither,” you say.

“Can I–”

“Absolutely.”

Jack’s rising up, kissing you and laying you back on the bed so that he can completely cover your body with his own. One of his hands cups your cheek, while the other grips your hip, atop your underwear but underneath the big t-shirt that is now riding up your body as you move. Your hand is on his bicep and his chest, clutching his sweatshirt. The strings dangle down into your space, brushing against your clothes and tickling you.

His hands memorize you like a topographic map, clutching at your dips and curves and anything else he can get his hands on. 

“Wanna take this off,” You mumble against Jack’s mouth, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt.

Jack pulls back immediately, reaching behind his neck to grab the collar of his top and bring it above his head. He balls it up and drops it somewhere on the floor. 

“That, too,” you tell him, about his t-shirt, before he can bend back down and kiss you senseless again.

Jack chuckles and pulls it off, too, leaving him half-naked just like you. His chest is tanned and swollen from his recent workouts in Michigan since his shoulder surgery, something that Trevor had told you about but about which you’d never checked in. You’re gentler on that side of his body, especially as he comes back down into your space and you get to touch him. You run your hands over his muscles. You feel out the ridges of his body, trying to match his own confident movements as he feels you up.

One of your hands makes its way to his v-line, something you’d seen over plenty of boat trips. You’d always wanted the opportunity to touch it, to trace it, to watch it bend and flex as he rolled his hips. You’re being afforded that opportunity now and it is sweet.

“I thought you might like that,” Jack murmurs. “Caught you staring once. Was the same day you wore my favorite red swimsuit out.”

“I still have it,” you tell him, gasping a little when his hand slides up to your chest. He tweaks your nipple, then his hand retreats. 

“Mm, a treat for tomorrow,” Jack says. “I’m gonna have you walking around in that thing all day just so I can look at you. For now…”

He trails off, pushing the bottom of your shirt up and leaving your lips to attach his to the freshly revealed skin of your torso. He kisses up your body with each inch he reveals, between your breasts and up your neck. He pulls your shirt off, letting it join his own on the floor, and gets his first proper look at your tits.

“Been waiting to see these,” he continues, eyes fixed on your chest like he’s being hypnotized. He places his hands on you and squeezes, feeling your supple flesh between his fingers. You moan out at the sensation, the noise spurring him on. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding and tugging at his joggers, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove them.

“‘ve wanted to come on these tits since I first saw it in a porno,” Jack reveals, still mesmerized by your chest. “Thought about it a hundred times.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Come on my tits all you want, but you have to fuck me first.”

“Guess your Saturday night wasn’t so boring after all,” Jack says before he stands from the bed and tugs his pants off. He joins you again, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing over your face. He grinds against you, his clothed cock sliding against your damp panties in a way that has you both keening into each others’ mouths. 

“Guess not,” is your reply, cut short by another moan when Jack’s hand claims your chest again.

You move without speaking after that, fueled only by the desire coursing through your veins after years of pining and aching for the other. 

Jack feels you out and eventually discards his own underwear before removing yours, returning to the missionary position that you had assumed as soon as you had first kissed. It’s sweeter this way– and you both need to see the other’s face, to feel their breath mix with your own. Your chests are flush together, your nipples scraping against the defined and broad swoops of his skin. You grind against each other for a few minutes more, his dick sliding between the wet lips of your pussy with nothing blocking it. He groans into your ear as your juices coat his length, eyes closed in a grimace that is completely charged by his pleasure.

“Condom?” is the last thing he asks, with you shaking your head and replying, “Pill.”

He lines himself up, mouth agape with a choked breath as he thrusts into your tight, wet heat. Your head finds the mattress beneath you, your back arching up as he fills you. You can feel his veins sliding against your walls, the blunt and weeping tip of his cock poking at your deepest parts.

He moves like a man possessed and fighting the beast– like he wants to let loose but at the same time, restraining himself. When you tug on his hair, the subtle waves that he’s been growing out over the summer and hiding beneath his hat in every picture you’ve seen, and whine out his name, Jack’s control vanishes.

He starts to piston his hips into your cunt, burying his face into your neck and letting out ecstasy-fueled whimpers each time you clench down. He curses in your ear, voice a little higher than it normally is, and the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment has your heart clenching. 

“J– J–” You chant, mewling as his cockhead drives against the back wall of your pussy in hard thrusts that make your head spin. 

“So good,” he grits out, kissing over your neck and catching your earlobe between his lips for a moment before dropping it. One of his hands is splayed over your hip, the other securely planted next to your head. “So tight.”

“Coming,” you warn, your fingers finding his bicep and clenching, fingernails digging into his skin so much that you won’t be surprised if you break skin. Your voice is high, too, octaves higher because of the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, come on my cock,” Jack pants out, the hand from your hip coming to rub circles over your clit. 

It sends a shock up your spine and has your hips bucking up to meet his, your entire lower half shaking as your climax approaches. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision goes spotty when you do come, just seconds after his groaned encouragement. Your entire body tenses, freezing with Jack still inside of you, making it damn near impossible for him to continue pumping his hips. 

He slides from your opening as you’re coming, bringing some of the slick with him in a feeble excuse for a squirt. His dick bobs, hard and an angry red that might be the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen in your hazy, post-orgasmic state.

Jack comes up to straddle your stomach, stripping his cock quickly with a tight fist, chest heaving. You know he wants to come on your chest, having already given him permission, but your mouth opens and your tongue lolls out in an invitation that Jack can’t deny. He shuffles up further on his knees, his whimper sounding pained as his milky cum spurts from the tip of his cock and lands along the flat of your tongue and your lips.

His spurts grow weaker, although he’s still stroking his dick in a fervorous pace, whining a little more at the oversensitivity. His cum makes his way to your chest, just dripping down the length of his shaft and pooling over your tits. 

You reach up with one hand and trace your fingers through the seed, causing Jack to sway a little on top of you at the sight. His cheeks are flushed and pink, eyes blue and clear like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your fingertips brush your nipple, spreading the cum over it before you bring your hand up to your mouth and suck the remaining liquid off of your skin, swallowing it with a hum.

Jack is off of you in a flash, pulling you on top of his lap and joining your lips. The last of his cum, painted across your tongue in a thin layer, mixes with your spit as he kisses you. He’s desperate, filling your mouth with his tongue until you can barely breathe, tasting himself on you until it’s indistinguishable– where you end and he begins.

It takes a long time for Jack to finally pull away, for you both to come down from your highs and take a breath.

In typical Jack fashion, he can’t stop himself from joking around.

“Trevor’s really going to kill me now,” he says. “There’s a chance he’ll never let us be in the same room again.”

You laugh, knowing already that neither of you will be willing to let this– whatever this is– go just because your brother has something to say about it. “In that case, we’ll just have to sneak away.”

notes: I WANTED TO NAME THIS "BFB" AFTER THE VICTORIOUS SONG SOOOOOO BAD!!!!! but alas. it's best friend's sister. maybe some other time. blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. well now wait that's a good idea...

[ryker-writes]

Your angst fic had made me go into angst creative mood. Twisted wonderland Character/s of your choosing of younger sibling that have chronic illness but hide it from their family. Often when to the toilet to cough out blood to avoid suspicious. Even went as far as asking the dr to keep it a secret because they don't want to burden their family and wanted them to enjoy their life because they already suffer so much and the distance actually help. Until sibling collapse and went into coma and the Dr had to break the news that they don't have much time left.

If it not to much- I'm feeling very angsty-

Oh my the heavy angst. This is so sad tho but I love it. These actually ended up longer than I thought they would be. I just had too many thoughts and it hurt my soul to write this because it's so sad but I enjoyed it

sorry not sorry if anyone cries <3

Characters: Leona, Idia, and Malleus

warnings: Mentions of blood, implied reader death, angst, no happy ending

Request rules and Masterlists

Leona:

you knew you should tell Leona about your condition

he was your older brother and he should know

but Leona was pretty protective and would drive himself mad demanding that somebody find something to help you

and he would spend all of his time worrying and fussing over you

so you didn't tell him

you wanted him to enjoy things and be happy

he's already struggled so much growing up and you don't want to burden him more

also you wanted to peacefully enjoy the time you had with everyone without a lingering sadness in the air

so you pleaded with the doctor to keep it a secret

and thankfully they did

all you had to do was hide the blood that you may cough out

so your bathroom trips became more frequent

Leona even joked that you should see the doctor about how much you have to go to the bathroom

but he didn't know the truth, and he was happy

that's all you wanted

until one day you woke up feeling weaker

you tried to fight it and carry on as you normally would

but for some reason you just couldn't

it was when you were walking in botanical garden towards Leona

black spots started to cloud your vision and you felt like you lost control of your body

the last thing you heard was Leona shouting

Leona was very worried when he saw you collapse

and you weren't responding to him either

he rushed you to the infirmary as quickly as he could and demanded that the doctor sees you immediately

when the doctor tells him that you're in a coma and don't have much time left, he's angry

how could you not tell him about your illness

he would've tried to help you if you just told him

Leona will spend most of his time by your side, waiting for you to wake up

he's not going to waste a moment somewhere else

he doesn't know what to do with himself

he's so angry with himself for not knowing sooner and not being able to do anything

you have to wake up, you just have to

Idia:

the Shroud family was a strange one

most of the family were shut-in's that were pretty isolated and lonely

your big brother Idia was a prime example of this

he spent most of his time behind the screens and barely interacted with other people

and he didn't really have friends either

both you and Ortho wanted him to be happy

and that's why you didn't tell him about your illness

if he knew he would isolate himself further and bury himself in trying to help

he would sacrifice his own health for the sake of you

and you couldn't let that happen

though you did hope that somehow he would be able to be happy and have a friend before your illness took over

it was difficult to keep it hidden

Ortho regularly does scans on you and Idia's health so he knows if something is wrong

so he knew, but you had to convince him not to tell Idia

it was a long process and filled with tears but he gave in eventually

and so when you would spend time with Idia, Ortho would be a little sad but hide it well

when you made and excuse of going to the bathroom Ortho knew what was happening and would make up some excuse to Idia about you drinking a lot of water or something

but then one day you were walking through the school halls with Ortho and Idia's tablet

it hit you so suddenly that you didn't even have time to react

as you coughed you could feel the blood sputter out and onto your chin

this coughing fit seemed worse than the rest and you couldn't stop

it hurt and even brought you down to the ground, and after a bit you passed out

Ortho was quick to help stabilize your condition and take you to the infirmary

all that came from the tablet was panicked noises and frantic questions

once the doctor checked up on your condition, he gave them the bad news

you had been sick for a long time and it's led you to a coma

with the way your condition was progressing, you didn't have much time left

Idia was so confused

how could both he and Ortho not notice especially when Ortho did health scans

but Ortho didn't answer and Idia could just tell that Ortho already knew

Night Raven College was buzzing with gossip that day

some were saying they saw Idia Shroud himself quickly walking through the halls and others denied that it couldn't be true

the notorious shut-in would never even leave his room or go outside Ignihyde

but the rumors were true

Idia Shroud had left his room and walked through the halls to the infirmary

and he stayed there all day constantly checking up on every little change in your condition

and when he wasn't checking on your condition he would sit there quietly and think

why did this have to happen?

why did it have to be you?

it wasn't fair

Idia was making the stressful trek through the halls every day so he could stay by your side in case you woke up

as he sat there he would play some of his video games and tell you all about it like he normally would, but this time you weren't able to respond

Malleus:

Malleus didn't have a lot of people he treasured in his life

those in Diasomnia were like his family, but you were actually his family so he treasured you dearly

he was always looking out for you and doing everything he could to make sure you were happy, and you wanted the same for him

so when the doctor had informed you of your illness and what would happen, you didn't want to tell him

Malleus would be crushed at the news

He had always been someone who was lonely

and you were like the one person he had that wasn't required to be around him

if he were to learn that you would soon be taken away from him, he wouldn't be able to cope

and you wanted to see him happy as long as you would be here

you couldn't tell him and instead kept it hidden from everyone

Malleus never questioned it much when you ran off to the bathroom

he would just ask if you were alright and once you said you were, he wouldn't ask past that

and so many days and even weeks past as you spent time with Malleus

he seemed happy and you were happy to see him like that

but it was when you were going on one of his gargoyle walks when the world started to spin

you wanted to ignore it and act natural before Malleus could notice, but it was all to much

your legs seemed more tired than usual and you fell to the ground

you could hear Malleus ask you repeatedly what was wrong but you couldn't answer

then the world faded to black

The great Malleus Draconia was terrified

you weren't responding to him and he didn't know what was wrong

his healing magic was amazing, but he couldn't heal injuries he didn't know about

so he picked you up and teleported the two of you to the infirmary

the doctor had to stop whatever they were already doing when the fae prince himself demanded his assistance

and the doctor checks up on you and tells Malleus everything

you were sick, now in a coma, and you were running out of time

the room was quiet for a minute as Malleus processed what the doctor said

and then, thunder

the worst thunderstorm Night Raven College has ever seen has been summoned

lightning was striking all around the campus and many students were taking shelter while terrified

but the infirmary was the safest place from the storm

Malleus sat by your side quietly pondering his thoughts

he was angry

not at you but at your illness for doing this to you, life for cursing you this way, and mostly at himself

he should've been able to see the signs before it got to this point

he should've been there for you

he should've helped you

how ironic it is that one of the most powerful mages was so helpless to save the one person they treasured most of all

Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came to find him after the storm started

and when they did, they didn't even say anything, but felt the heavy atmosphere

Lilia tried providing some comfort, but Malleus just stayed silent

for days after that, his three guards stood outside the infirmary and prevented anyone from disturbing the two of you

the storm persisted and Malleus never left your side

he would sit there for hours silently wishing for you to wake and be okay

even though he knew that was unlikely

but he wouldn't leave and possibly miss you waking up

that was simply one event he wouldn't miss

Malleus was never good at noticing how quickly time passed

but as he sat by your side, he was painfully aware of every passing second that you lie there

[patroxlos]

home base . ch1

"friends who have dinner once a week" - 2.5k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

master post. ao3 link.

next: ch2. "friends who reconnected and who certainly don't want to be more"

where you're left sitting alone at a restaurant and your best friend thinks it's funny to use ultraman-caused traffic jams as a reason for why he's late.

---

30 minutes. You told yourself 30 minutes.

30 minutes and then you’ll stand and leave because you have the dignity not to wait around.

Because you know that if he doesn’t show up by then, he won’t show up at all.

You are seated at the corner of a neighborhood restaurant. It is family-owned, with recipes that boast three-generation longevity, yet it still maintains a calm and quiet atmosphere at this hour in the evening. Just enough for a celebrity to blend in without risk of being hounded by overeager fans. You have carefully taken this into consideration when you selected the spot. When you had proposed the time and place to him, you particularly noted that he may like their famous yakisoba.

You wonder whether he places as much thought about you as you do with him.

“Hello, are you ready to order?” You are asked. You have only had a water and a side of popcorn karaage.

It’s time. Half an hour of sitting all alone in a booth too big for you was getting a little humiliating. You should stand and go.

“Yeah, I’ll have a platter of the signature yakisoba?”

Oh what the hell.

You gave a smile to the waiter.

“The solo serving?”

“Oh no, I really do mean the platter.” Your smile aches a bit as the waiter kindly reminds you it is good for two to three people. “Yes, I have company.”

And if said company does not show, you will have the noodles packed up and sent to his house. How sweet.

You slump in your seat as the waiter leaves. You’re trying your best to be understanding— you really are, but this is getting too much for you. Your eyes flicker towards the TV above the restaurant bar, playing the news of a Kaiju attack in Roppongi.

Maybe he got stuck due to the traffic? You soothe yourself as the screen shows Ultraman getting struck by the tail of the raging monster.

You scoff. No way. It’s too far from the Dome.

Everyone uses Ultraman as an excuse to be late to work. You will not put it past the amazing Ken Sato to do the same.

He stumbles into the restaurant half a serving of yakisoba later.

You pause mid-chew to watch how his eyes dart all around the restaurant, frantic and panicked. You glare at him even if he can’t see you. You did pick a booth that would be easy to hide in. It is working well in your favor as you see him hopelessly look for you. At least he has the decency to feel bad about arriving an hour and a half late.

He talks to the waiter, who starts guiding him towards your booth. You sit up straighter, ready to give him the coldest shoulder you could muster. Ready to tell him off for his perpetual tardiness. For wasting your time.

His eyes finally meet yours, and his posture fills with relief. “Hey!” He leaves the waiter behind as he jogs towards your table. Fuck.

“Took you long enough.” You do not know why you greet him so warmly as you stand up, and he leans in to give you a side hug before sliding into the booth with you.

“I was so scared for a minute that you already left.”

Your smile stretches a little tighter. “I was just waiting for your usual text saying you can’t make it. I guess I got a little worried since you didn’t send me anything this time, Ken.” You try to keep your voice even and pleasant, wrestling down any inner goblin that threatens to spill out what you truly feel.

“I am so sorry, it was a little traffic with the KDF and the Kaiju business. Got really distracted trying to dodge the debris on my bike.” He sounds genuinely apologetic. He always does.

“Did you see Ultraman?” You ask.

“Huh? What about him?” He has a little jump at the start.

“He fought the Kaiju?” You tilt your head. “In the middle of the streets.”

“Oh yeah, he did. Quite heroic I must say, from what I saw.”

You wish you could call him out for lying like that to your face, but you notice the rigidity of his shoulders and the forming bruise on his face. You decide to let it go. Again.

“Rough practice?” You say, sympathetic. He looks like a wreck. Maybe he just lied so I wouldn’t have to worry.

Ken makes an exaggerated stretch, his cocky attitude seemingly unbruised. “You could say that again. But don’t worry, I’m on top of my game.”

You remember the news coverage of the past few weeks saying that he is at an all-time low in his career. Every poorly timed dive into the dirt and rough swing of his bat have been televised for the nation to see. He notices the concern etched in a growing frown you couldn’t control.

Even if it has been a few months since he arrived in Japan, he knows you well enough to brace himself for your eventual comments about his deep-set eye bags. You don’t say anything.

“Yakisoba?” You push the platter towards him. “The noodles aren’t that warm anymore though.”

“I’ll be fine. Haven’t eaten all day so I just need something in my gut.” He waves off your comment as he begins feasting like a man starved. He groans, delighted with the savory sauce and chewy noodles. “Man, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Your chest puffs a bit at the compliment. You were about to reply when his watch beeps red. You glance down at the watch face as it says ‘CHECK-UP NOW’ at the front. “Am I keeping you from an appointment?”

He inhales two more mouthfuls before saying “Nah. Wanted to get here as soon as possible. I’ll get to it after we call it a night.”

“You’re keeping your doctor waiting?”

He snorts, holding his chopsticks in one hand and reaching for his water with the other. “She’ll manage. I want to be here with you.”

On any other day that would have warmed you up, but this time it left a sour taste on your mouth. “Really? I wouldn’t have been able to tell.” You say before you could stop yourself.

He pauses, before setting down his glass. “Huh? What do you mean by that?”

You panic. You do not want it to come out like this. Avoiding eye contact, you fumble to find the right words. “I-It’s just…you’ve been leaving me hanging lately that it…yeah.” You finish lamely.

“Ah…” He looks like he got slapped across the face, cringing from the guilt. “I’m so sorry— I don’t mean to. You know how much you mean to me. You’ve been my only friend since I’ve moved back here.”

“Only?” You cannot believe it. It has been more than two decades since the two of you were sneaking around his father’s laboratory, trading baseball cards underneath a steel table as your parents discussed science and business. More than two decades of him in the States, where the only contact with each other is limited to video calls and your occasional family trips to Los Angeles (you do not count your impulsive flights).

He sucks in air through his teeth. “Hurts to admit it but yeah. I haven’t…vibed with anyone else lately. I’ve just been swamped with all this work and—“ he took a deep breath. “—At least I didn’t leave you hanging tonight?”

You bite your tongue. Not now. Don’t say anything now. He obviously has so much on his plate.

But can’t he understand that you are busy too?

“Yay…?” Fuck. Why do you sound like that?

He fully put down his chopsticks now. “You’re kind of off tonight.”

“Oh, I’m off?” You feigned ignorance.

“Yeah…you have a problem?” He raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“I should be asking you,” You try to be sincere, because you are. You are worried about how hard he has been pushing himself lately. Instead, your words are stilted, defensive. “Well…You…”

“Me…?”

“I— I mean how has adjusting back home been?”

He seems uncomfortable when you say the word home . Ah. You slump back into your seat, cursing yourself for making this awkward.

“You don’t have to answer that I just…”

“Is this about my stats?” His words are sudden, cutting.

You blink, lost at the direction this conversation is suddenly going. “I’m sorry?”

“Because I’m well aware this is my weakest season and I don’t need a lecture from you right now about how it’s been going.” The yakisoba was growing cold on the table.

“Kenji you know I hate talking about business when it’s just the two of us. This isn’t about your play.”

“Oh so this meeting wasn’t about pulling my player sponsorship?” He barked sarcastically. “Because that’s just what I needed! On top of the threat from Coach to trade me to the Tigers. Me, Ken Sato. Traded!”

You throw your hand up, signaling a pause. “Woah slow down, I don’t know anything about that. You’re going to the Tigers?”

“No!” He snaps. “My coach just threatened me.”

“Why would he threaten you?”

“Because of my stats this season! God I thought you were paying attention.”

“I am! I have to because I have to monitor your progress.”

“So this is about your sponsorship.”

“It’s not about the sponsorship! I only wanted to see you!” Your heart is pounding. You forgot he can get mean. Really mean. You know he was like this but he was never like this with you. “Fuck, man, can’t we just be friends who meet up for dinner once a week?”

He senses his mistake, and tries to reel himself back in even if he already got himself worked up and overheated. “I just don’t need another thing on my plate right now. Hell, I didn’t feel like going tonight but I dragged myself out here for you.”

If he can be short-tempered, so can you. “Do you want a fucking medal?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If you don’t want to see me then I think we’re done here.” You grab your bag and stand up. “I paid for the meal already. Get it packed. It’s still good microwaved.”

“Where are you going? Sit down.” He begins standing up himself. “I didn’t mean it.”

The waiter stands awkwardly nearby, unsure about whether he should intervene. Both of them are drawing attention. Some other dining customers surreptitiously pull out their phones. That’s the baseball player right? Ken Sato. And that’s the scion of the—

He follows closely behind as you leave the restaurant. You see your bodyguards already preparing the car to leave, but before you can approach them he quickly grabs your wrist. “Wait. Please.”

Sighing, you turn around to face him.

“Can we talk?” He was careful with his words this time. “My bike is parked there. Can you at least hear me out before you go?”

“Kenji–”

“ Please .”

Something is different about him tonight. Or maybe it didn’t start tonight, but it has been like this ever since the season started. For a moment, you can place yourself in his shoes. You feel his constricted breaths, his fatigue. Something is wrong.

“Okay.” You signal to your guards to wait, before following him towards his bike.

The gravel crunches beneath you both. He leans against his bike as you stand in front of him, arms crossed.

He takes a breath, before saying a concise “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For talking to you like that.”

“I didn’t realize the famous Ken Sato apologized.”

He scowls. “Can you make this anymore difficult?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll ease up. Now what’s going on with you?”

He wrings his hands in the air before letting them fall to his sides. “I … A lot has been going on. I can’t explain everything but. I know that I’ve been messing up a lot lately and I really don’t want to mess this up too.”

“Kenji,” you say softly, taking a step forward. “You’re an ass but we’re still friends.”

He groaned. “God thank you—”

“Wait,” you cut him off. “I’m still…hurt.”

He stood up straight at your words.

You shrug. “I have also been really busy. It isn’t easy following in my dad’s shoes, running the family business. I’ve only been doing this for a few months and already I feel like I’m ready to quit.”

Ken laughs. “I understand that way more than you realize.” There is a hidden meaning behind his words that you’re not sure you can pinpoint at the moment.

“Despite all that, I also know that I want to reconnect with you. It’s been so long since we’ve been in the same location, and I knew it would be hard for you to adjust back to living here. I want you to feel like you can rely on me but now it feels like I’m only a second thought when I constantly put in the effort to put you as a priority.”

“You’re my oldest friend,” he admits. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like that.”

“I know you didn’t and that’s the worst part.” You are somber.

“I can’t— I can’t put in the time to fix this now.” He is resigned, yet realistic about what he can offer at the moment. “But please give me time.”

You nod, bringing up a hand to rest on his arm. “Kenji, I’m not the type of person to abandon a friend when he’s obviously going through something. It hurts but I understand.”

The relief seems too much on his body that he takes a step forward and engulfs you. You hear your guards at a distance start to shuffle forward, but your hand signals for them to stand down before you return Ken’s shaky embrace. He is hunched over to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“If you need me, all you have to do is say so…” You murmur close to his ear. “I’ll give you the space you need, just don’t forget that I’m here for you.”

He seems to shake a bit more in your hold, almost as if he’s struggling not to cry. He doesn’t though, and he releases you from his arms. “I’ll call you?” His voice much smaller than normal.

“The famous Ken Sato? Calling me?”

He cracks a smile, rolling his eyes. “Shut up. I’ll email your secretary for your availability so that the next time we meet, I will be the one adjusting to you.”

Huh. “That’s…oddly considerate of you.”

“You act like I’m normally not.”

“...So you’ll send an email?” You quickly change the subject, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I am considerate!” He defends himself.

Both of you stand in the parking lot well longer than a few minutes. You have said your goodbyes at least three times by then, but it is natural after the tense moment in the restaurant to just take in each other’s presence. You wave him off as he finally got onto his bike, exchanging promises that you will give each other time to figure out whatever you both needed to figure out. You trace the red of his rearlight through the streets until it no longer could be seen.

[pricegouge]

idk who to tell this and i saw ''price'' in your name so hear hear, can you imagine cptn Price actually not able to handle horror films very well? like Sinister genuinely makes him jump and scream, and he doesn't hide it either he just let it OUT making you who's watching with him jump too but not because of the film, but because of his screaming? i love seeing big buff men getting scared from horror films teehee

god im sooo happy you came to me with this ask lmao. i'm addicted to horror because i have a Fucking Problem. and because price is my goddamn tulpa wife atp, i of course spend way too much time imagining him sitting with me, squirming and cringing and disguising gasps behind smoker coughs

okay, just like everything, i think there is nuance to this. survivalist horror? as long as it's not too gory, price is fineee. "well. simply don't do that next time," he often says, knowing full well there won't be a next time because this guy is about to Bite It. but when that time actually comes, price is flinching away and developing a lifelong fear of wolves when the pack tears that guy to shred in frozen 2010

creature features and supernatural horror are tied for second best. monsters in general will freak him OUT if the effects are well handled, but they don't keep him up at night. and he's the target audience for a formulaic blumhouse demon/ghost jumpscare. like, flinging a pillow at the tv and pulling you into his lap to keep the both of you safe, somehow(?) level

folk horror unsettles him but doesn't spook him a whole lot (while it's still playing, at least. he does definitely get a bit more superstitious as your relationship develops and you make him watch all sorts of fae or cursed horror, though)

zombies or other outbreak movies freak him out and he's not ashamed of it. he has to take a lap to make a fresh batch of popcorn every time mob mentality comes into play.

and lastly i have to give a shout out to @stellewriites because we had the exact same headcannon for this last part. torture porn/slashers/anything gratuitously gory/and home invasion are his absolute worst subgenres. he hates them, can handle anything you throw at him in real life but can't stand to watch it in his free time. he's seen worse with his own eyes and he knows that, but something about a whole team of people putting blood sweat and tears into making the rack in saw 3 sound realistic? that's just too much. "what is wrong with these people?" he asks, fingers flexing around a fistful of pant leg as his feet push against the ground sporadically, as if his whole body is trying to distance himself from the screen with every heartbeat despite being too stubborn to move. you're here, watching this, so he has to be here in case you need him but he is not having a good time. and when he sees that you very much are having a good time he groans, finally breaking to excuse himself when he sees the delight in your eyes as squibs pop onscreen like fireworks, painting the set red.

he's a fucking hypocrite though because he totally gets mad if an action movie doesn't have a realistic level of blood, just saying.

also he will never admit it but alien movies freak him out. you totally catch him reading news articles about that obelisk hoax that happened a few years back at like two in the morning

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 12 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After seeing for yourself that nothing could affect Jude’s performance or relationship with one of his teammates, you felt more relaxed. The conversation that you needed to have with him was still very present in your mind, but at least you found yourself relaxing through the almost two hours of the game due to the added time. You were worried for Jude’s physical state since the DT didn’t make any changes, but he seemed more than fine running around like he was just two minutes into it. 

The four of you were chatting while watching intently through the screens, all of you making jokes about Jude’s faces after a missed goal, commenting sometimes about a tiny mistake or how unfair the referee was against a particular player. Jobe made sure to keep you entertained during the recess, giving you tiny plates full of food from the catering area, both starting a game of ranking them like you were Gordon Ramsay. It was a great time, and when the match ended, you felt a bit sad. The games always felt like mini-vacations. 

You made your way back to the dressing room, celebrating that BVB had won the match. You knew Jude would be thrilled; you could tell the players were extra happy since a lot of songs and shouting could be heard meters away. 

“I think we should wait around a bit more; they’re going to take showers and all that.” Jobe said, sighing. “I’m exhausted.”

“That’s because of all the food we had.” You said, jokingly poking his stomach. 

“Ha, ha. What about you? That’s about the size of a three month pregnant belly” He poked yours back. 

“Rude!” You hugged your "belly," making your best offended face. “How do you know it’s not, in fact, a pregnant belly?” 

“Excuse me?” Gio’s voice startled you, coming from behind. 

“Gio, my god.” You laughed, turning around to face him. He had a happy but surprised expression. Your brain clicked when his eyes went straight to your stomach. “No! No, no, no… That was a joke. No pregnancies.” 

“She’s just bloated.” Jobe added, laughing when you gave him a nasty look. “What? You are.” 

“Stop it, dear.” Denise said, trying to hold her laugh. “Hello, Gio, my dear. How are you?” 

“Tired but good, Mrs. Bellingham. Thank you!” 

Right then, Jude came up, walking next to Marcus, laughing and chatting. He was covered in sweat, but still looked amazing. Your heart did a little thing that made you almost groan, and when he looked up, both of you smiled at each other from afar. He gave Gio a little side-eye once he was next to him, but nothing else. You pursed your lips tightly together, so the smile you wanted to hide didn’t escape. 

“Who wants a sweaty hug?” He asked, already looking at you. 

“She does.” Jobe, being the traitorous little devil he was, pushed you directly into him. 

“No!” Jude didn’t let you move from the prison of his arms, pushing you into his chest, rubbing his neck against your face, and putting his sweaty jersey (that he had taken off) around your neck. “Ugh! Gross!” 

“What do you mean by “gross”? This is the smell of victory, love!” He kept rubbing himself into you, making you laugh and groan out of disgust at the same time. 

“You’d been running and tackling people for two hours! You don’t smell amazing.” You muttered against his chest, giving up on escaping his embrace. 

“Whatever you say.” He replied once you were free. His jersey was still around your neck; you grabbed it with two fingers, not believing that he dared to put that shirt full of grass and sweat on you without hesitation. 

“Hey there.” Marcus said after Jude was done with you, smiling at all of you before entering the dressing room. 

You all said hi, and when some other players came in as well, Jude followed them, shouting that he would be out soon. You awkwardly waited a little bit farther away with Jude’s family, avoiding the knowing looks of Denise and the eyes of Jobe, who kept smirking at you and taking photos of the sweaty shirt that was now hanging from your arm. 

“Very funny.” You said to him, covering your face after he shot some photos very up-close. 

“Of course it is.” Was the only thing he said, laughing while showing his father the results of his photoshoot. 

Jude did as he promised, and after fifteen minutes he was out of the dressing room with fresh clothes and a big smile. You knew how happy he felt after every win. You all waited a bit more for the rest of the team. Adeyemi and Gio came out a bit later than Jude, walking straight to you.

“Hey! Are you coming tonight?” Adeyemi said as soon as he was near enough. You thought he was talking to Jude, but his eyes were on you, so you just gave him a tiny smile and shrugged. 

“Sorry, where?” 

“To the pub. Some of the guys want to celebrate later.” Gio said, paying no attention to Jude’s eyes, which seemed to be digging holes in his skull for how hard he was staring at him. 

“I don’t think so, we’re pretty tired.” Jude replied for the both of you, smiling with only his lips. “Maybe another time.” 

The disappointed look on Gio’s face was evident, but he replaced it with a smile immediately. 

"Okay then, next time it is.” Both of them said their goodbyes and went on. 

You looked at Jude closely while you followed his parents, who chatted a few steps ahead. You nudged his arm, smirking when he gave you the look again. 

“Stop it with the jealousy thing, Bellingham.” He blushed a little, avoiding your eyes. “Not hot.” 

“I’m not jealous.” He said, smiling once you nudged his arm again. “Just making sure that Gio gets out of his head the idea of having a chance with you.” 

“And rubbing your sweaty self against me is the best option for that, right?” 

“Rubbing my sweaty self against you is always the best option at any given opportunity, darling.”

“You guys know I’m right here, don’t you?” Jobe’s voice was next to you, sounding disgusted. “Stop with the sexual innuendos in front of me, please.” 

“We weren’t-” 

“Sorry, bro. I got carried away.” Jude smiled when you pushed his arm. 

“Everything I’ve learned about your relationship was against my will.” Jobe said before walking a bit faster so he could be next to his parents. “I’ll treat you like the plague.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie!” You shouted, laughing when he just gave you a disgusted look. “It won’t happen again, I promise!”

“Just let him be.” Jude hugged your shoulders, lowering himself until he was next to your face. “What about we just do a movie night? The flight is in the afternoon— enough time to sleep in and eat something, don’t you think?” 

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to ignore how close his lips were to your own. 

“Are you inviting yourself into my house to sleep?” You whispered, enjoying when his face grew redder by the minute. “How bold of you, sir.”

“Not like that, obviously!” He said immediately, looking like a tomato by this point. “Just like… Quality time!” 

“Oh, so you don’t want to?” You acted offended. His face went through all the states of confusion. 

“Well, yes, of course, but...” He stopped mid-sentence, frowning. “No, no, I’m not letting myself say something stupid right now!” You laughed, making him smile. “I knew you were going to make me all confused! I’m just out here wanting to watch a movie and sleep with you like a good Christian couple!” 

“Christian couple?! Oh, my god. We’re far away from that.” You couldn’t stop laughing, feeling some tears run down your face. “You’re going to use me as a pillow! I’m going to be buried under 75 kg of an exhausted footballer.” 

 “It’s not like you aren’t used to it.” He kissed your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile. 

Looking ahead, you were almost at the exit, so you grabbed his hand, trying to get his arm off your shoulders. He gave you a confused look, but you just pointed ahead. 

“We’re almost out of here. People are going to take photos of you.” It wasn’t like you cared by this point, but you knew he was very private. 

“Let them.” He simply said, taking your hand with ease. “If you want to, of course.” 

You looked at your intertwined fingers, feeling like you were in front of a different person. He didn’t care? Your eyes returned to his face; he was smiling and walking like nothing was important enough to make him care about it. You tightened your hold around his fingers, looking straight ahead. You passed photographers from the staff before making it outside; they all took some photos of not only you, but also the other footballers that were walking behind you. It was a weird experience. 

“Mom, Dad. We’re going to head home, is it okay if you get my suitcase from my room?” He said, already leading you to a different hallway than his parents. 

“Sure, dear.” Was all that Denise had to say. Her eyes were sparkling with something that made you look away again. She definitely knew. “Very well, remember I’ll pick you up in the afternoon, okay? I want both of you ready.” 

“Yeah, Mom. Don’t worry.” Both of you gave them a final hug to everyone before going separate ways; you didn’t know where you were going, but you figured it was fine. 

“Who’s driving us?” You asked after saying goodbye to some more people that apparently knew Jude. They all looked at you with curiosity, like asking themselves if Jude had always been holding hands with someone while walking around the hallways.

“I don’t actually know. Here, put this on.” He covered your eyes with… sunglasses? 

“Why would I need these?” You tried to take them off, but he stopped you. 

“Just leave them on and follow me, darling.” 

You were suddenly out of the building; you heard voices shouting names and other things that you couldn’t understand, and when you looked up, you realized you were walking by the main entrance, where fans waited for the players to come out. People were flashing photos, startling you a bit before Jude made it to a black car, opening the door and allowing you to get inside first. 

“Wow.” You said once the door closed, taking the glasses off. “That was... an experience.” 

“Can you get used to it?” He said with a smile, greeting the driver and giving him your address. 

“Are you used to it?” You ask instead, still watching how many people were near the car, asking for a sign or photo. “Aren’t you going to sign something?” 

“Maybe? I don’t want to if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

Being honest? It did make you a bit uncomfortable, but just because you weren’t used to it. People never paid attention to you in the way Jude was used to. You just shrugged, figuring that maybe it would be a couple of minutes. 

“Mate, I’m going to roll down the window for a moment. I’ll be quick.” 

“Sure, no worries.” 

So you just stayed there, awkwardly avoiding the gaze of the few people that acknowledged your presence in the seat next to Jude’s. They seemed curious, but again, they had Jude Bellingham singing their goodies and shirts, no time to gossip about who you were. Which was appreciated. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Finally.” You said once the door was locked behind you. 

“I’m so tired.” Jude hung from your shoulders, making you groan from the extra weight. “I don’t think I can watch that movie after all.” 

“Oh, so all this was an evil trick to get into my house, you pervert?” It was pretty funny to joke about it since it was obvious you weren’t going to have sex tonight… Or soon. 

“Stop it with that!” He laughed, hugging your shoulders a bit more. You held his forearms, stopping by the kitchen. “I truly want to spend time with you without the sweaty body rubbing.” 

“No way you just called sex “sweaty body rubbing," Jude.” He leaned against the kitchen island, shrugging. 

“Isn’t sex just that? Well, the basics of it.” 

“Can we stop talking about sex?” You were getting a bit nervous by the way he was looking at you. “Are you hungry?”

“You started it! And not making it better by asking if I’m hungry right after it… But yes, I’m pretty hungry. For food.” 

“No need to make that clear, sir.” You smiled. “Grilled chicken, rice, and salad?” You said, already opening the fridge. 

“Please do. I’ll help you.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jude stayed in the kitchen doing the dishes so you could hop in the shower. 

If you were honest with yourself, you were a bit nervous about having him a few meters away from you while you were fully naked. It was stupid since you knew he really meant it by saying he just wanted to spend quality time; sex wasn’t even on your future plans. But you couldn’t help it. It felt too dangerous. 

After finishing, you got dressed inside the bathroom, just in case an accident happened. Luck wasn’t a thing to be tempted right now. 

“There you are.” Jude said once you got out of the bathroom. He made himself at home, already wrapped in the covers. You could tell he was absolutely pleased to be allowed in your bed again. “Wait, do you have any of those masks that you like to put on?” 

“Do you want to do that?” 

“Yeah! Why not? My skin has been a bit dry lately.” 

You laughed. 

“Very well. Go wash your face.” He got up fast, making you smile with his excitement. “Use the blue one!” 

“Okay!” 

You went through your vanity drawers until you found the little box of face masks. You used to put them on together a lot. When he got out of the bathroom, you made him sit on the vanity; you made sure to get all the spots and get it really smooth on his face. He was so relaxed that you almost kissed him. 

Not now. Not-now. 

“Ready?” He asked, opening his eyes.

“All ready. Let me put mine on.” You grabbed another package. 

When everything was ready, you both sat on bed, waiting for the twenty minutes to pass. He even offered to brush your hair, which you accepted. He gave amazing scalp massages. It all felt so domestic and back to normal that it made your heart ache. Even when you were ready to let all go back in Scotland, you realized this thing happening right now was something you’d missed. You missed him a lot. 

“I had a great time today.” You told him, taking his hand. “I missed it.” 

“Thank you for coming. I really missed you. Having you with me today made it all better.” He kissed the back of your hand. 

You stared at him, not caring that his face was covered in a silly face mask, and felt the urge to kiss him again. You weren’t fooling anyone, especially yourself. You miss him, you love him... You want him back as much as he wants you. You’d told yourself a million times that you needed more time, more space, and a bit more healing. And you had it. You had all that, and you still wanted him by your side no matter what. 

He was an asshole two months ago; everything that had occurred the past months were because of the miscommunication, the fear. But you knew, no matter what, that you two could make it work. You loved him so very much. 

“Jude?” You asked suddenly, feeling the need to say what you were thinking or you’ll explode. 

“Yeah?” He put his phone down, giving you his sole attention. 

You swallowed, taking his hand a bit harder to make sure he was there with you. 

“I’m ready to give us a second chance.” 

He frozed, blinking rapidly. If it wasn’t for your rapid heartbeat and your own fear, you would have laughed at his face; between the shock and the face mask, he looked very funny. 

“Are you-” He got out of the covers, getting closer to you. “Are you sure?”

Now you laughed for real, taking his face between your hands. 

“Yes, I am very sure.” You gave him a little peck, looking into his eyes. “Are you taking up my offer?” 

“If I’m-? Hell, of course I am. Come here.” 

He took your face in a fast movement, kissing you so deeply you thought it was a dream. You waited for so long to be kissed by him again. You returned the kiss with all the love and force you could, showing him that you’d missed him as much as he’d missed you. You both fell into the bed, laughing when the face masks fell off; his eyes were sparkling while giving you the most beautiful smile ever once the kiss was over. You giggled when he started to kiss your cheeks and neck, playing with his hair when he stayed on the crook of your neck. His scent was so familiar that it almost made you cry. 

Maybe it was a curse, but you sure loved this man with all your heart. May God help you. 

“Thank you.” He spoke after a while, kissing your neck once more before looking into your eyes. “I promise I’ll never-” 

“Don’t promise me anything.” You interrupted him, putting your fingers on his lips. “Just do it, no more words. Prove it to me.” 

He looked deeply into your eyes for a few seconds before kissing you shortly. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my days proving how much I love you if it’s necessary.” 

This time, it was you who kissed him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @erensfavgirly | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @ironmaiden1313 | @wavessmile | @jul1ettt | @daydream-er | @citrusjunosart | @pierre-gasssllyy | @avianawrites | @topguncultleader

[gardenialver]

Cute and Cuddly

synopsis - you and kaminari are the only ones left in the lounge after everyone ditches you guys to go sleep

pairings - Denki Kaminari

content - fluff, body touching but not inappropriate due to quirk, light teasing, mention of mutilation but only because the prompt is scary movie, it's implied the reader has some ties to Korea

You stared at the screen in annoyance, some odd grotesque scene was playing out in front of the class 1A students. It's not that you were particularly desensitized to horror but you didn't really care much for horror movies, maybe it's that one film class you watched your friend take or just a general lack of care but horror or thriller movies never got to you.

However, they seemed to be getting to the boy who began to wrap himself around your arm. "Kaminari," you whispered to him, he was shaking so bad that both Sero and Kirishima had to move seats.

You wrapped your tail around his waist and he finally looked at you, "If it's too much you can hide behind me," He gulped, "Isn't it scary?" You looked at him for a moment and then the screen and back at him, "ah, uh," You flattened your ears against your scalp, "Ahhh, so scary" You tried to act but it didn't come off so well.

"Don't take it to heart Kaminari, it's my quirk so you know," You tried to wave off and that seemed to help, "Tiger's used to be scared of persimmons in Korea," "Does that mean if I put a persimmon in front of you you'll be scared."

You stared for a moment mouth open before nodding, "Yeah, dried persimmons are really scary," At that moment a collective yell came from your classmates who were watching and your friend's face found it's way into your shoulder.

You smiled affectionately and patted his head comfortingly. You watched nonsensically at the movie, sensing something violent about to occur you placed your tail over his eyes and as you thought your classmates shared a yelp.

When you retracted it your classmate's eyes were watery and you started to scatter around, worried perhaps your tail was causing him to have an allergic reaction. However, immediately arms clasped around your stomach. "You care for me so much [Nickname]."

You stared wide eyed before returning to patting him in comfort, "Of course, who else is gonna look out for you," You teased and returned to watching the movie, although at this point it was hard to concentrate when you were being hugged from the back, you could feel your heart begin to race.

Eventually Iida, Momo, and Todoroki all went to bed first, bidding you goodnight. Koda chose not to watch for his own sake and honestly you though a lot more people would join him.

And just as you were thinking that Shoji got up, mentioning that he's worried Koda might be feeling left out, Aoyama and Mineta decided to head up and just like that every few minutes your classmates would go up in pairs.

Ochako decided to go up so Tsuyu and Tooru followed her, Mina not wanting to be left behind also followed them. Ojiro and Sato both decided to excuse themselves before they'd get nightmares.

Dark Shadow beginning to get a bit restless also lead to Tokoyami going to go check in on Koda. The shrinking amount of classmates begun to become more noticeable as Kaminari seemed to become more comfortable in his seat.

He sprawled his legs across the sofa but kept his arms tight around your stomach. "You ok there?" You checked up on him, tapping his arm with your tail. "Yeah, I think I'm doing better. You?" True to his word his shaking had calmed down just about completely.

"I'm just fine," You winked, turning to look around. Midoriya, Sero, and Kyoka waved at you. "I don't want to go up by myself so Sero and Midoriya are gonna take me up, see you tomorrow [Name]" She poked your ear with her earphone jack before walking away past the wall.

As she did Kaminari nudged you, "You should also sit more comfortably," He motioned to you having a cushion in your arms and sitting straight against the couch.

You kicked your feet up, your legs intertwining. "Kirishima and Bakugou left." Kaminari noted to you and you looked around and then at the screen showing someone being mutilated.

Immediately you scrambled up to grab the remote and turned the tv off. Sliding back into sit, Kaminari pulled you back down to your previous position. "Shouldn't you start to head to bed?" He wrapped his arms back around you.

"Not after that I can." He stopped for a moment and then squeezed your waist while hiding his face in your chest. "Please don't go." "You know Kaminari, if I didn't have fur covering my chest this could be considered sexual harassment."

He looked up at you with dead eyes, "Way to kill the mood, plus I would never touch you anywhere you were uncomfortable with," He cried out and then stopped for a moment, "I'm not making you uncomfortable right?" You laughed and shook your head, "I'm fine."

You went back to lying with him on the couch, "Well I guess it would be considered inappropriate if I went into your room and you came into mine alone at this hour without the other leaving so I guess it's best if we stay down here."

You raked your fingers through his hair, "You ok after that?" "No. But, I'm not doing too bad," He changed his position to lay his head on your chest. He began to prod at your fidgeting tail.

"You were shaking pretty bad though?" "STOP KILLING THE MOOD," He scolded as he tickled your fur patches, "Wait stop, I'm sorry, hehe." You calmed down.

"I'm trying to be romantic over here," He huffed and you winked while sticking your tongue out at him. He copied you before shocking your palm softly with his finger. "Thanks for being cute and cuddly," He ruffled at your ears, "Thanks for making me have excess static electricity and poofy fur" "STOP KILLING THE MOOD" "YOU JUST MADE A PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR REFERENCE HOW AM I KILLING THE MOOD"

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 5

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 18 minutes

Chapter warnings: [Violence] Illegal fights [Smut] Blood licking, mentions of sex

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

She felt her arm twitching, before the rest of her body reacted to the sound of her phone buzzing and blasting some music. She could tell it was still night when her eyes opened, with her room only being lit by the screen of her phone.

Her hand reached for the shaky device on her nightstand. She let out a sigh when she saw Jack's name on her screen, before she answered the call and laid her phone against her ear to be able to hide her arm under her blanket again.

—Do you know what time it is? —her voice sounded sleepy and tired.

After what happened with Jungkook a few days back, she had finally been able to keep up with some of the rest he forced her leave behind, only to be interrupted again by one of the sources she managed to find the little time she worked in that newspaper.

—I thought you'd like to hear the exclusive I have for you, but if it's not the case…

—I swear if it's another dumbass breaking a Record Guiness for the longest fart in history, I'll go wherever you are and kill you with my own hands —she threatened.

She was too tired, too annoyed and too done with life to deal with something like that again.

—And how does an illegal fight in South Shore sound?

Her eyes suddenly opened at the mention of that, sitting on the bed almost instantly and causing her phone to fall over the blanket.

—…I have to take a flight in thirty minutes, yet I'm giving you some golden info for you to treat me that way.

—Jack, shut up. What are you talking about?

Y/n had been after that information for months -or more so, almost a year-, but whenever she thought she was getting somewhere, it always ended up with a wall blocking any chance she could have of finding out more about it.

—Ah, so now you're interested?

—Unless you want me to show up at O'Hare, you better start talking.

—I have a friend who received a message for it after he started training at some gym. Apparently, some owners and trainers introduce their fighters to it —she heard him sigh—. It's tonight, at eleven. It'll be in that abandoned nylon factory near the bay. Do you know where it is?

—I think I know, but could you send me the location?

—Sure.

Before she was able to celebrate it, Jack's voice got her attention again.

—Whatever you do, please be careful and try to be as discreet as possible. I know you already know how dangerous the people in there are, but I don't want you to risk yours and my friend's asses.

She hung up the call, assuring Jack that she'd be as careful as possible about it, while also being sure that it'd be a chance she wouldn't allow to pass. She'd have to ask her boss for the company's car though, and that probably wouldn't be easy.

—3A, do you know what fucking time it is? Have those phone calls at a normal time —Jungkook whined on the other side.

Her eyes rolled instantly after hearing his muffled voice through the wall. For the first time, she was regretting that awful hole she chose to do out of desperation a few nights back.

Opting to simply ignore him, she left her phone back on the nightstand, connecting it back to the charger before she rolled in her bed to find the right position to fall asleep again.

Her fingers tapped nervously at the wheel plastic cover, feeling everything she ate piling up at the entrance of her stomach as if it were planning to go all its way up her throat. For one second, she thought if it was really worth it. She had gone too long after it for no reason, it wasn't like it was going to change anything for her, and it also was a superficial story no one would care about after reading it. It was the type of story that entertained people, but that created no complex thoughts after "Oh, wow, some people are doing something that doesn't affect me at all. Let me pretend to be concerned about it, before I jump to the sports section". She remembered how even the chief editor was surprised with her election, when there were many good articles to choose from that week: elections, manifestations, a worldwide celeb's scandal… yet she stagnated to something that would go unnoticed.

There wasn't a lot of control to get inside. Actually, there was no control And she guessed that it could be because no one, except for the people who received a message, would know about that fight. She was convinced that the few people who went there either bet money or fought.

The smell was heavy as she stepped inside, walking among the crowd. It wasn't anything putrid, or that couldn't be bearable, but the humidity from the walls -because of how old and unattended the place was- was noticeable in the air, and she wondered how healthy breathing that air was.

It felt uncomfortable walking through those people, trying to make it as close as possible to the improvised boxing ring, but she still did it, making sure the hood of her jacket wouldn't move as she tried to cover her face and hair as much as possible -and she wasn't the only one doing that.

Her heart raced as she got closer, managing to see the spots from fresh blood on the floor before the two fighters started a new round. And it felt like it'd escape through her mouth when, holding her phone tight in her fingers, she moved it through her sleeve as little as possible to just let the camera peek over to film the whole thing.

She was forced to move when one shoulder suddenly blocked her view, although maybe that'd be better to cover up the whole thing closer to the ring. Once she thought she had enough of that fight, she moved to the side, escaping from the crowd and also getting closer to where some of the fighters were.

Her heart beat fast for one second, as if it had a sudden electric shock when she felt someone pulling from her hood.

—Hope you know you can't record here —a thick voice warned at her back.

She was ready to reply to that accusation, hiding her phone deep into her sleeve as she turned on her tracks. His almost folded eyelids, positioned in a challenging way, widened when he realized it was his neighbor in front of him.

—What the fuck are you doing here? —Jungkook spoke first, widening the way his eyebrows were furrowing.

—I could say the right same thing —she replied back, moving away from him.

Jungkook sighed, looking away for a mini second before his eyes were back on her. Having to be there was bad enough, but seeing the last person he wanted to see there made it worse. Ever since their paths crossed, it seemed like he wasn't able to escape her, especially after what happened the last night they were together in the same place.

—Are you a cop?

—It's not your business —she replied back.

Having her there would only be a big distraction he wouldn't be able to deal with. Jungkook didn't want to know why she was there, or how she knew about the fight, he was just thinking of having her leave as soon as possible.

He sighed exasperated, realizing how that conversation would take them nowhere. She wasn't going to give away her reason, so there was no point in arguing with her about it.

—If you're smart, which after these weeks I doubt —he added, referencing the several encounters they had had ever since he moved in—, leave and delete whatever it is you've filmed. You don't wanna deal with the people here.

—Jungkook, you're next —they both heard at the side.

Y/n just scoffed at that, looking back at him. If his black tank top, and his black shorts weren't enough for her to tell, that person confirmed it for her.

—Seems like you aren't that smart either.

There was no point in arguing with her, he knew she wouldn't listen even if he told her to go home because the people in that place had robbery with violence as the most mild crime. His eyes dropped on her quickly before his lips twisted, tilting his head.

—Do whatever you want, then.

Those were the last words he dedicated to her, before he walked past her body and disappeared among the crowd. It wasn't like she had much of a choice when it came to what she wanted to do. On one side, she knew she wouldn't get to know what she went looking for, but on the other side, she needed more content for the article.

The crowd suddenly seemed more invested in the upcoming fight, surprising her when she heard the chants and growls as the two fighters were presented.

Rodric "The Bully", and the Doberman of Busan.

She rolled her eyes at what she believed was Jungkook's name. "Doberman of Busan", someone had to be kidding her.

In the ring, Jungkook tried to contain his need to break Rodric's nose before the bell even announced the start of the fight, after he whispered how he was dead meat and how he'd eat him in a matter of seconds.

It wasn't a comment that surprised him in any way, but that still annoyed him.

The fight started with the two of them slowly meeting each other at the center, throwing daring glares over their gloves as they tried to guess who'd be the first to attack.

All his confidence was gone towards the end of the second round, his face was covered in blood that spilled down from his eyebrow and his broken lip. After falling a few times, and standing up before the count reached the fourth number, he was already feeling dizzy, hardly managing to see through that blurry gaze he was already suffering from.

He had good resistance, but he was better at attack than that night. Maybe the fact that his neighbor was among the crowd played an important factor. Checking on her, while trying to make sure no asshole would bother her and no guard would catch her filming played as big favor for Rodric -who smirked at him whenever he got up and got ready to be beaten.

His body fell flat on the floor again when he received a hook, after he heard Y/n complaining while trying to get rid of Jimmy's grip.

At that point of the fight, where the count didn't even matter, Rodric smiled, getting ready to give him the final punch as he walked towards his body.

Jungkook tried to stand up, or at least roll on the ground by himself, but his body reached a limit that night. Most parts felt numb, only being aware of the way Rodric made him lie on his back.

The devil seemed to be on his side that day though, seeing everyone panicking around him when the place was suddenly lighted by blue and red lights, along with several cops telling everyone to stay still in their places.

His back collided against the ground again, when Rodric let go of him, not without promising the next time he wouldn't be as lucky. He didn't expect the night to end as bad when he received the text for the fight, but there he was: lying on the ground and getting ready to be arrested and taken to the police station.

As soon as Jimmy found more important his freedom than whatever it was that she filmed, Y/n got ready to leave as well. Until she saw Jungkook lying on the ground, not even attempting to move.

She was genuinely thinking of leaving him there. Maybe that was the answer to her prayers for the past three weeks.

She clicked her tongue when she found herself bearing with all the pushes and pulls, walking against the flow to reach Jungkook.

—We need to leave —she whispered to him, helping him to get up and walk by hooking his right arm around her neck.

Jungkook managed to open his plump eyes, looking down to see her dragging him to the nearest exit until the two of them reached an old car, where she pushed him to the backseats.

While he looked conscious from the outside, it actually seemed like his body was moving automatically, following her guidance and doing what felt right. He wasn't even aware of how fast she drove from the center to their building until she dropped his body over her couch abruptly, making him moan while he closed his eyes.

She could've left him on his doorstep until he regained some consciousness back, and she would be lying if she had said she didn't feel tempted to, but she still allowed him to step inside her place. She also helped him get rid of the gloves and the bandages carefully, scared of him being injured or hurt after the fight.

—I can do that myself —he mumbled, moving his hands away.

—Fine —she dropped his hand hard over his thigh, getting a low groan from him—. Do it yourself.

For one second she forgot she was dealing with the pain in the ass Jungkook was.

Although she was annoyed, she still moved around her place, trying to get the few things she had to cure the wounds on his face. She looked after him, but it didn't mean she wouldn't use it to her advantage either.

He hissed, squirmed and moved his head away every time she pressed hard on the places she wanted to heal, finding some joy in his pissed off expression. She also prepared some ice cubes covered in a rag, ignoring his stretched hand to press it directly on the wound on his eyebrow until she saw him holding it.

Jungkook looked around her place, finding the similarities in structure, but seeing it completely different from his own. Her house seemed cozy, ready to bring calmness to anyone who stepped inside. Her furniture was also black and white, but the different accessories over them created a huge change. Like the thick purple blanket that was over the backrest of her couch, on his side, or the big world map that was over his head. She even had pictures displayed over the cabinet next to her door, and a jar filled with bright pink flowers.

Just like he expected, her house was as feminine and delicate as she seemed.

His head moved in her direction again when he heard her hissing and huffing. Y/n looked at the broken screen, cursing at that man who dropped her phone against the floor when he caught her filming. At least she'd be able to use the videos and pictures it took her so long to get, but she'd have to repair the screen or get a new phone. And both options were too expensive to think about lightly.

—Look at what you did —Jungkook frowned at her accusation.

—Me? I already told you not to film there.

—If you hadn't reached out to me, and shouted how I should stop filming, no one else would've noticed —she dropped the phone over the coffee table.

—Sure, because you were so good at pretending you were doing nothing suspicious… —he squinted his eyes— Who else would've thought this —Jungkook lifted his right hand at the level of his chest, in the most unnatural posture ever— was suspicious if it hadn't been for me.

Jungkook dropped the rag over the couch, finally standing up to confront her.

—I'm the one who should be mad. Look at my face —he pointed at it with his two indexes—. If you had stopped recording when I told you and gone home, I would've been able to focus on my fight.

—I didn't ask you to focus on me —she replied back—. Oh, also…

Jungkook looked confused when she crossed her living room, opening one of the drawers of the furniture next to her table and seeing her walking back to him.

—I also didn't ask for your eighty dollars —she handed him the money.

The morning after she got stuck outside, he managed to hear the conversation she was having with her mother, as she ranted and hell opened beneath them at the several curses because of how expensive the locksmith was.

Leaving the eighty dollars at her footstep was his way to apologize for the way he treated her the previous night. She was confused at first, but was determined to return it to him when pride went back to her and was big enough to forget how she drooled for him all over his face.

—It was my fault you got stuck outside.

—It wasn't, I should've checked first —she sighed—. I don't want your money, and you didn't need to make up for shit —she left the money in front of him at the coffee table.

—But you still blamed me for your broken phone —he replied.

Y/n sighed, looking down at her phone when she realized the argument with Jungkook would take her anywhere. It didn't matter if she had to buy a new phone, because she'd probably be able to opt for better articles and more recognition after she posted her reportage. The screen suddenly went dark before she could even enter the gallery, going completely useless although the battery was at fifty per cent still.

—No —she whined—. No, no, no, no, no

Not like it would change a thing, but she let out her desperation, moving her thumb over the screen as if that would make her phone react. She gasped, and cracked a whimper, dropping the phone from her hands when she felt her fingerprint being sliced.

It wasn't a deep cut, she definitely wouldn't lose her finger. It was more the type of cut she could get with a sheet of paper, but it still was bothersome and some blood started to leak.

She wasn't aware of Jungkook still being there until he stepped closer to her, hearing his sigh over her before he took her wrist and looked at the tiny and thin wound. She was expecting him to do anything, but her body froze when he raised her hand a bit more to wrap his lips around her finger.

The tiniest bit of pain disappeared, because all her senses were too focused on the way his warm mouth felt around her finger, and how his slick tongue moved around softly. Her cheeks started to burn when his eyes sank in hers, as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

Not like they were too complicated to guess them though.

She gulped thick, regaining some senses back.

—Don't you know how dangerous it is to do that? —she tried to break off the moment.

Letting go of her finger with a loud pop sound, he smirked at her.

—What are you talking about now?

—Licking someone you don't know's blood. Apart from the amount of bacteria that could come out of your mouth, you don't know if I'm sick…

—Holy shit, you're like a walking encyclopedia. Are you even sick to say that? —he raised his eyebrow.

—No.

And she certainly wasn't worried about the consequences of what he did, but the reaction and effects it was creating in her body.

—Then what are you so worried about? —he rolled his eyes.

—I'm just trying to let you know that… —he interrupted her again.

—Fine —Jungkook nodded—. I'll lick something else instead.

While she was still trying to process what he meant, Jungkook hooked his fingers around her nape, in an attempt to pull her closer. Although she moved back before he was able to lick her lower lip.

—Do those lines actually work with anyone? —she challenged, lifting her eyebrow.

—Why? Jealous?

—More like going through a first stage of second hand embarrassment —she pushed him.

Jungkook huffed, letting his eyes go to the back of his head as he let go of her body, walking back to the couch and dropping his body lazily on it with a sigh.

—I bet you do much better with that rottweiler attitude —he scoffed.

—I'm better with actions, indeed.

Jungkook's gaze followed her as she walked over him, stopping in front of his legs. It was so hard for him to tell what her intentions were, that maybe that was what drew him to her that way.

She slightly separated his legs, pushing her knee against his until there was a small gap in his thighs. He suddenly felt nervous, gulping thick when her knee fell so close to his crotch, making the place he was sitting at sink a bit on that spot. He moved under her nervously when both of her knees were positioned on each side of his body.

—Are you nervous? —she purred close to his lips, tilting her head.

—You'd need to do much more than this —he lied.

If Y/n leaned closer to him, Jungkook was sure she'd be able to feel the way his heart pumped against his chest like crazy, beating racing up when her breath moved from his lips to his neck.

—Did you take off your piercings? —she suddenly asked.

—Yeah —he threw his head back—. It's… It's better for the fight. Do I look better without them?

—Hmm, it's not that —she rubbed her lips against his—. I wanted to know how it'd feel to pass my tongue over them.

Jungkook's words got stuck in his throat, and soon she had his body trying to hold back the way it squirmed when her tongue traced the line of his marked jaw, starting from the superficial hole his piercings had left.

—I bet you thought I'd end up riding you on that crusty couch of yours after shaming me —she whispered.

The mere image of Y/n taking every inch of him, with her tits bouncing with every move of her hips, got him twitching in his pants, grasping at the fabric of her couch while holding back from touching her.

She licked her lips, rubbing her lips against his before she moved to the other side with a dangerous smile, making him flinch when her breath was then on his left earlobe.

—I probably would have if you had insisted a bit more.

—Why don't you ride me here, then?

She smiled, leaning on him to ghost a kiss on his lips, pushing him back against the backrest when he attempted to kiss her instead. His lower lip was trapped between her teeth, being pulled lightly as he felt all of his skin burning with something so simple.

—It seems like my rottweiler attitude actually works.

Everything she helped to build up was destroyed within seconds, when he stopped feeling her warmth caging him as she moved to the free spot next to him to get up next.

—You look better now, so why don't you walk home and deal with that? —she mocked, pointing at the noticeable bulge under his shorts.

—I can snap my fingers and have three like you showing up at my door —he huffed as he got up.

—Snap your fingers and disappear with them, please —her chuckle made him feel heated.

—You think you're the big deal.

—I got you hard in less than a minute by just licking your ear, judge by yourself.

—You really don't know what you're missing…

As he kept talking, Y/n started to push him towards the door, finding it hard to control his body as she tried to open it.

—Ever heard of what a multiorgasm is? —he went on, ignoring how she was kicking him out— Sex with me is on a whole different level of any other thing you've ever experienced. I…

Her door shut in front of his face before he was able to finish the sentence. Jungkook just stood there, looking at her door for a few seconds before he turned around and sighed after looking down at his bulge.

That woman was so twisted and cruel.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[ladykailitha]

The Places We Hide Part 1

I know, I know. I have soooo many WIPs that I’m working on. But this one just hit and wouldn’t let go.

It’s based on a quote from one of my favorite TV shows “In Plain Sight” in the pilot episode: “We all live in hiding. In one way or another, each of us conceals pieces of ourselves from the rest of the world. Some people hide because their lives depend on it, others because they don't like being seen. And then there are the special cases, the ones who hide because... because... because they just want someone to care enough to look for them.” -Mary Shannon

Which feels like such a Steve quote.

*

Eddie finished his beer and was about to get up and get another one. He figured since he was up, he’d ask Steve if he wanted another, too. He looked around at the crowd of people that was piled up in front of the large screen TV, but didn’t see him.

Eddie shrugged. He figured he had gone to the bathroom or something. So he got up and grabbed another beer from the fridge. But when he came back Steve still hadn’t returned. He set the can down and wandered off, looking for the missing boy.

He came back to the front room and frowned. “Hey, anyone seen Steve?”

Dustin barely even glanced up. “He does that sometimes. He’ll be back.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide and his head tilted forward.

Robin looked up at him. “It’s just something he does. He gets a little overwhelmed, so he goes to cool off.”

“Yeah,” Will said. “He’s asked us not to check up on him and to trust that he’ll come back.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “And you lot believed that shit?”

Everyone was looking at each in confusion.

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Eddie threw his head back. “Never mind.”

They all just shrugged their shoulders and went back to the movie.

Eddie threw his arms in the air and went to the one place he hadn’t looked yet. The pool. He got the viewing room or whatever the hell it was a sighed in relief. Steve was out there smoking a cigarette.

The skies darkened as storm rolled in. Eddie sat down on the couch and set his elbows on his knees, watching Steve smoke. He wasn’t sure if should go out there. Maybe the party was right. Just let him unwind and Steve would come back to them.

But as he watched, the skies opened up and began poring down rain. Eddie figured Steve would at least come into where Eddie was to get out of the torrential downpour. And thought he was right when Steve stood up.

But he was wrong. Oh god, was he wrong.

Steve tilted his head all the way back, letting the rain hit his face. His arms were slack at his waist, cigarette no longer burning in his right hand. Eddie wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching this boy fall apart, but he had to do something.

He grabbed his leather jacket and held it over his head. He opened the door to the pool. “Steve!” he called, but it was drowned out by the rolling thunder.

“Fuck!”

He dashed out to where Steve was standing and pulled the jacket over both of them.

“What the hell, man?” he asked.

Steve slowly lowered his head. “Go back inside. You’re going to get soaked.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “A bit pot calling the kettle black don’t you think?”

Steve blinked and Eddie could almost see the lights come back on behind his eyes.

Steve looked around in shock as if he finally noticed he was standing in the pissing pouring rain with Eddie’s jacket over his head.

“Shit!” he cried, grabbing Eddie’s arm and hauling them both inside. Once they were back inside that weird little room that was both enclosed but outside Steve came to stop.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.” Eddie started shaking out his jacket, trying to dry it out.

Steve’s eyes snapped to him and then he bowed his head. “It’s fine. It doesn’t happen that often.”

Eddie licked his lips. “And how often is ‘not that often’?”

Steve sighed. “Most of the time people aren’t around for them, but two or three times a month?”

“So almost once a week?” Eddie asked, anxiety coloring tone.

Steve blushed. “I mean, I guess. I don’t really think it about if I’m honest.”

“Steve...” Eddie began. “You spend so much time taking care of everyone else, who takes care of you?”

Steve furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you come out here all by yourself,” Eddie said waving his arm around them, “and black out. You tell everyone to leave you alone. And I’m willing to bet that they tried to be there for you but you somehow convinced them that you were fine, when you clearly aren’t.”

“I am,” Steve protested. “I am fine. I just get overwhelmed sometimes and I take a break. What’s so wrong with that?”

Eddie let out a frustrated moan and dug his fingers into his eye. “Because if it was just that you would have come in when it started raining.”

“I was just enjoying the rain for a bit,” Steve argued.

“Dude!” Eddie growled, trying to rein in his temper. “I literally saw you come back to life. You were completely gone. You had checked out. Blank. Do you understand?”

Steve threw his arms in the air. “So what if I was? What does it matter?”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He grabbed Steve by the arms and shuffled them both over to the couch. He sat them down. “It matters because you could have gotten hurt. What if you had walked into the pool in that state or got struck by lightning?”

Steve looked down at his lap. “Oh.”

Eddie started running his hands up and down Steve’s arms. “I’m really worried about you, sweetheart.”

Steve looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“I know,” Eddie murmured. “So answer my question: who takes care of you?”

“I–” Steve almost said he had Robin. But that wasn’t quite true. They looked out for each other, sure. But he still hid things from her. Things like this. “No one.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “My uncle Wayne has this theory about the people that hide. Some hide because they don’t want to be found, but there are some that hide because they hope that someone will care enough to come looking.”

Steve smiled. “I like that.”

Eddie grinned. “I figured you would, sweetheart. Because that’s why you’re hiding, isn’t it?”

Steve nodded. “My parents are never home, and when they are, it’s always yelling and disappointment. So when they’re gone I fill the house with people as much as I can.”

“But sometimes the noise is too much,” Eddie reasoned.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted. “It’s stupid. I invited them over I want them here, but my ears start ringing and everything seems turned all the way up.”

Eddie nodded. “So I guess my question is: do you want me to come find you when this happens?”

Steve looked away, blush staining his cheeks. Eddie cupped his cheek and gently turned him to face him.

“Do you, sweetheart?”

Steve inhaled sharply. “Yes. I don’t know why it’s you. But yes. I want you to come find me.”

Eddie pressed their foreheads together. “Then let me know when this happens, even when it’s when no one is around. I’ll come find you.”

Steve nodded. “I will I promise.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[the-way-astray]

It's the Never Change author once again, maintaining my anonymity for now! Katie knows now (we did confirm that) but I don't think anyone else does (it had to do with the anon I sent you about the passage I dislike in your rant, but I've only ever talked about that over DM's to Katie and Isa, so as long as they don't rat me out I think I'm okay)

This chapter is significantly less Keefe and significantly more, hmmm, other keepblr members. Specifically Katie's mutual circle, which you are in contact with because they are the other ones who walked through the fourth wall.

—————

Title: Never Change chapter 3

Pairing: Stria x Keefe

—————

Once upon a time, Stria would have sworn she didn't care enough about Keefe to think about him, unless he was shoved into her face via KOTLC book or tumblr post, during which times she hated him with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns.

But now, here she was... thinking about Keefe.

Something was troubling her about their smoothie date.

He'd outright objected to and argued with her about the idea that he read people's emotions on purpose to find out what they were hiding. She expected this, of course. He somehow managed to both hate himself and believe he did absolutely no wrong at the same time, and she was prepared for his defensiveness.

She wasn't prepared for his lack of defensiveness.

He hadn't exactly addressed the passage about him being jealous of Fitz. He didn't defend it, either. There was no argument. There were so, so many other arguments, and yet...

"Like I said, you don't know me half as well as you think you do."

That was all she got.

She did know him well. Sure, there was the fact that most of what she knew about him was told through Sophie's unreliable perspective, but his actions said plenty on their own. Plenty of her opinions were subjective, sure, and she owned that, but that didn't make them any less valid. She just didn't like him.

She was allowed to not like him!

But that passage wasn't supposed to be subjective. It just didn't make sense. Shannon was clearly making random excuses for Sophie to comfort Keefe. Keefe's bitter, ironic laugh and refusal to defend himself should not be bothering her to this extent!

Actually, she shouldn't be thinking about him at all. Why was she still thinking about this? She could, of course, do what Sophie would do, and try saying We're officially done thinking about this! out loud, but despite the fact that Stria walked through the fourth wall on purpose, she was not about to concede to that level of being written by Shannon Messenger.

She needed validation here. Preferably from someone who didn't like Keefe. Maybe she could reach out to Tam. She needed someone to say, "Stria, why are you overanalyzing this? This isn't like you. Keefe is just being his usual melodramatic self. Since when do you care?"

She'd never actually talked to Tam, though, so he would probably think he was weird if she hailed him.

Why was she the only Keefe hater who walked through the fourth wall?!

Sighing, Stria pulled out her imparter and hailed someone who was probably not going to make this better at all, but was the most likely to concede to the objectivity of her statements, even if she twirled her hair and giggled over it.

Katie answered immediately. "Stria? Are you okay?" she asked. Background noise and voices came through as well.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stria lied. She was not fine. What sort of brain poison had her thinking this much about Keefe when he wasn't there? And what posessed her to call someone who did think this much about Keefe when he wasn't there? "I just, um..."

"MADDIE, LEAVE MY POOR CAT ALONE!" Katie called behind her. There was a meowing sound, and a little brown tabby cat padded across the background of the screen. "Sorry," she said, directing her attention back to Stria. "Why did you call? We're not scheduled to argue about Keefe for another two weeks."

There was an offended gasp on the other side of the screen. "Gracie licked my applesauce!"

Katie sighed. "Hang on."

"Is this a bad time?" Stria asked.

"No, just give me a second." Katie put the imparter down and walked away. "You might want to put a cover over this when you're not eating it, Lisa. Gracie, the applesauce is not for you." When Katie came back, grabbing her imparter once again, she was holding the little brown tabby cat. "Sorry. Don't mind Gracie. So, what were you calling about?"

"Well, it was a Keefe thing, and I was kind of looking for a little validation about one of my points—"

"—from me?!—"

"—but I'm definitely not thinking about him anymore—what is going on in your house?!"

"Theoretically we're playing uno," Katie replied, which didn't answer her question at all, actually. She turned around again. "Oh my gosh, Alayda, I will ban you from my house! Okay, it's official—Isa's my favorite!"

"Isa was already your favorite," Alayda complained.

"I was," said a voice that must have been Isa.

"She was," Katie agreed. "Now will you guys be normal without supervision for five minutes? I'm trying to talk to my duel spirit mutual." She turned back to the screen. "My apologies once again. I swear it's not normally this chaotic over here."

"That's a lie!" said a voice offscreen.

"Maddie!" Katie groaned.

"Wait a minute. Did you say you're talking to Stria?"

Before Stria knew what was happening, too many people were gathered around Katie's imparter screen. Stria shook her head vehemently. "Nope. I did not sign up to talk to five Keefe lovers."

"Meow," Gracie said, as if to say, Don't worry Stria, I'm on your side! I don't like Keefe either! (At least, Stria was choosing to interpret it that way, for her own sanity).

"So it's about Keefe, then?" asked the girl holding a bowl of applesauce, who must have been Lisa.

"Okay, I'm hanging up. Bye!" Stria put down the imparter. What was everyone doing at Katie's house? Who knew? At least she wasn't thinking about Keefe anymore. Mission failed successfully.

Keefe cancelled their milkshake date only ten minutes in advance. Internally, Stria laughed at him, figuring he chickened out. Weirdly, she was slightly disappointed.

Probably because she wanted to yell at him, and he'd canceled her planned yelling-at-Keefe session.

She was even planning on telling him who Shannon was this time! Which was what he wanted! Rude. Well, she was going to do it to mess with him, but still!

However, at Foxfire the next day, when she was walking to her next class, she noticed a large sign on the Healing Center door as she passed by: For every reason for visitation short of impending death, please see the office across from Lady Galvin's classroom.

For every reason for visitation short of impending death?!

Stria noticed a friend she'd made was passing by and decided to ask her about. "Estella!"

"Oh, hey Stria!" Estella greeted. "Where are you headed?"

"Chemis—Alchemy. What about you?"

"Elvin History," she groaned. "What's up?"

"Do you happen to know why we're supposed to go to the office by Lady Galvin's room instead of the Healing Center?" Stria asked, gesturing to the sign on the door. "Did something happen to the Healing Center?!" It made sense, actually. It was probably the main cast's fault.

"Oh, that's the sign they put up when they're treating serious injuries," Estella explained. "By serious, I mean like... about to die, banshee sleeping next to Sophie Foster type serious. It never used to happen before she arrived and she and her friends all started making a habit of almost dying."

Oh.

Oh, that made a lot of sense.

It would also explain why no one ever had a normal school nurse visit while the main cast was using the Healing Center like a personal hospital.

"Wait, so that means Elwin's treating someone who's literally close to death in there?"

"Yeah. They never tell us anything. It's probably Sophie, though. Or one of her friends. Keefe, the Vackers, Dex, those two twins..."

Stria read Keeper of the Lost Cities, of course. She knew what happened in it. But it still felt... well, very serious to know that on the other side of that door, the characters were going through the sort of traumatic experiences she'd read about in those books, except it was real.

Suddenly, the fact that Keefe canceled their milkshake date ten minutes in advance didn't seem funny anymore.

"I've really got to get to my history session," Estella said apologetically, "but I'll see you around!"

"See you around," Stria said absentmindedly, still contemplating the sign on the door.

—————

And the plot grows more serious!

I had to add some silliness before the seriousness, of course, so take my humble offering of what I think Katie hanging out with her mutuals in person would be like. (Am I one of the mutuals referenced in this fic? Did I write about myself? Who knows! Can't say.)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! At least I'm aware enough that I can point to some of the out-of-character Stria moments myself now, but I'm going to leave them there, because it's not like this is going to be very in-character anyway once Stria and Keefe fall in love.

Sincerely,

Never Change author

part one, part two

"Katie knows now (we did confirm that) but I don't think anyone else does (it had to do with the anon I sent you about the passage I dislike in your rant, but I've only ever talked about that over DM's to Katie and Isa, so as long as they don't rat me out I think I'm okay)" okay, first of all i think alayda knows who you are as well. at least that’s what she told me, several times. and yeah, i figured you had talked about that passage with katie in your dms. thanks for confirming my suspicions.

also now that alayda, katie and possibly isa are in the know, am i even the first one besides you to read these. do you send them to them for peer review or something before sending them to me (you shouldn't i like being the first one i feel special). is there even any point in tagging katie anymore.

edit: i did all the following notes before getting told who maddie is. so there's a lot of "who the fuck is maddie?" in here. I KNOW WHO THAT IS NOW. don't have to tell me anymore :)

this will surprise a lot of people, but i actually don’t think about keefe that much. when i’m reading the book, he almost never leaves the page, which means i’m filled with annoyance from start to finish, so of course i’m thinking about him (i wrote my rant during a reread). but i don’t spend much of my free time pondering how best to insult him on tumblr, lmfao. probably why my rant isn’t articulated as well as i’d prefer on second thought. but yeah, unless he inserts himself into my awareness first, i don’t spend a lot of time thinking about him. but this is a strieefe fic so whatever. it’s forgivable. this ship is still godawful and makes no sense, but whatever.

i still think shannon making keefe jealous of fitz (not for family reasons) makes no sense and was just there for the sake of shannon milking some worthless comfort between keefe and sophie (which goes on way too long and bashes the the reader over the head until they're black and blue), but whatever. i still think it was an awful writing choice that has little to no follow-through. but we'll see where this goes.

"Plenty of her opinions were subjective, sure, and she owned that, but that didn't make them any less valid. She just didn't like him." why strieefe could never work in a nutshell. keefe's horrible humor is a core part of his personality, and even if you remove all his toxic traits, that still remains. and that irritates me. there's quite literally nothing i'd actually enjoy about hanging around this guy.

"Shannon was clearly making random excuses for Sophie to comfort Keefe." yeah basically. this man has so much pity dumped on him it's a marvel he can even walk without sophie holding his hand and cooing him along.

"Keefe's bitter, ironic laugh and refusal to defend himself should not be bothering her to this extent!" i'm going to be so honest, i would not realistically have even noticed this as being out of the ordinary. i've said this before, but i'm horrific at picking up on body language/cues/adjacent things.

"She could, of course, do what Sophie would do, and try saying We're officially done thinking about this! out loud, but despite the fact that Stria walked through the fourth wall on purpose, she was not about to concede to that level of being written by Shannon Messenger." GOODBYE I LITERALLY TRY SO HARD TO FORGET SHANNON WROTE THAT. I'M NOT EVEN LYING. there's two things that are 100% canon, if you ask me: the vackers have brown eyes, and sophie did not start yelling at herself about her feelings for keefe, twice. don't even think about it. i'm correct, okay. also i walked through the fourth wall on purpose . . . why did i do that? did the keefe lover group from later follow me? did i follow them? did we come together? clearly i didn’t come to talk to keefe.

"Maybe she could reach out to Tam. She needed someone to say, "Stria, why are you overanalyzing this? This isn't like you. Keefe is just being his usual melodramatic self. Since when do you care?"" not something i'd be realistically overanalyzing. thinking about keefe when he's "not there" is not something i'd be engaging in. man doesn't deserve any of my braincells. but the idea of reaching out to tam is intriguing. will i get to interact with the other kotlc characters? oooooooh, can i meet alden and della? that might make the strieefe worth it . . .

"Why was she the only Keefe hater who walked through the fourth wall?!" yeah :( i want max. you should bring him over, then give him an interesting b-plot where he investigates fintan and finds him making out in a closet with bronte. or something. he'd be perfectly happy with this development.

"And what posessed her to call someone who did think this much about Keefe when he wasn't there?" does katie really think that much about keefe when he's not there, though? i doubt it.

""MADDIE, LEAVE MY POOR CAT ALONE!" Katie called behind her. There was a meowing sound, and a little brown tabby cat padded across the background of the screen." first of all, who the fuck is maddie???? second of all, is this the famous gracie? making an appearance at last?

""Why did you call? We're not scheduled to argue about Keefe for another two weeks."" GOODBYE WE LITERALLY SCHEDULE OUR KEEFE ARGUING HOURS THAT'S SO GOOFY.

""Sorry. Don't mind Gracie. So, what were you calling about?"" I WOULD NEVER MIND GRACIE I LOVE CATS GIVE HER TO ME.

""Well, it was a Keefe thing, and I was kind of looking for a little validation about one of my points—"" i would literally never go to katie about anything keefe-related. unforgivable . . .

""Oh my gosh, Alayda, I will ban you from my house! Okay, it's official—Isa's my favorite!" "Isa was already your favorite," Alayda complained. "I was," said a voice that must have been Isa. "She was," Katie agreed. "Now will you guys be normal without supervision for five minutes? I'm trying to talk to my duel spirit mutual."" accurate. also alayda's not capable of being normal. katie should make her take timeout outside for a full five minutes.

""Wait a minute. Did you say you're talking to Stria?" Before Stria knew what was happening, too many people were gathered around Katie's imparter screen. Stria shook her head vehemently." why are all these people aware of my existence. why do they know who i am. still don't know who the fuck maddie is, so i can't imagine she'd be aware of my existence, either. and i barely know who lisa is, i only do because she wanted keefe x her fics in her inbox instead of me lmfao.

do katie and the gang know in this fic that keefe fucking. asked me to drink smoothies with him. and that i said yes. because i can't imagine they'd let me live that down. well, minus maddie, whoever that is, and probably isa. i don't think isa would care.

""Nope. I did not sign up to talk to five Keefe lovers."" . . . well. guess who's now signing up for those exact five keefe lovers to see this. @myfairkatiecat @alaydabug2 @permanently-stressed @lisalovesapplesauce @/whoever-the-fuck-maddie-is i'm signing up to talk to you.

""Meow," Gracie said, as if to say, Don't worry Stria, I'm on your side! I don't like Keefe either! (At least, Stria was choosing to interpret it that way, for her own sanity)." *sniff* i love you gracie . . . the only keefe hater to break through the fourth wall with me . . .

""Okay, I'm hanging up. Bye!" Stria put down the imparter. What was everyone doing at Katie's house? Who knew?" i love how i hung up without getting to the point. that's so in character lmfao. and is this not a normal day on katie's blog, anyway?

[block limit!!!! wahoo!!!!]

"Keefe cancelled their milkshake date only ten minutes in advance." not a date, not a date, not a date, not a date, not a date-

"Weirdly, she was slightly disappointed. Probably because she wanted to yell at him, and he'd canceled her planned yelling-at-Keefe session." that's exactly why i'd be disappointed. correct.

"However, at Foxfire the next day [ . . . ]" i go to foxfire confirmed? did me and the keefe lover group morph into elves upon our walk through the fourth wall? do we have abilities? i feel like alayda should be a phaser, but i have no strong feelings on anyone else. maybe make someone a polyglot for the sole purpose of communicating with gracie? though maybe not katie herself . . . what about the mysterious maddie?

"Stria noticed a friend she'd made was passing by and decided to ask her about. "Estella!" "Oh, hey Stria!" Estella greeted. "Where are you headed?"" it's unclear to me whether this is a real person on tumblr or whether you made them up. if they are real, who is this????

"It made sense, actually. It was probably the main cast's fault." WAIT. wait, wait, wait. is this taking place when the series is still going/the neverseen are still not defeated???? that had not been what i'd been picturing.

"It would also explain why no one ever had a normal school nurse visit while the main cast was using the Healing Center like a personal hospital." interesting headcanon. that would explain a lot, especially how nobody came in from cutting their hand on glass in elementalism or something during flashback, for instance.

"Stria read Keeper of the Lost Cities, of course. She knew what happened in it. But it still felt... well, very serious to know that on the other side of that door, the characters were going through the sort of traumatic experiences she'd read about in those books, except it was real." is it keefe. is that why he canceled the milkshake outing. and i less read kotlc so much as i do burn through it.

also if the series is still going, as i assume it is, does that mean all the copies of kotlc that exist in the universe that me and katie's group came from have magically corrected themselves to account for our existences in the series? i think that would freak out the readers. quite a bit. also i think i'd quickly become the most hated character for daring to hate keefe and steal him from sophie.

"Suddenly, the fact that Keefe canceled their milkshake date ten minutes in advance didn't seem funny anymore." called it about two seconds in advance :)

OOH IT SOUNDS LIKE ACTUAL PLOT SHENANIGANS ARE GOING TO HAPPEN. COOL, I LOVE PLOT.

i can smell the fanfic tropes a mile away; there's gonna be some hurt/comfort between me and keefe for sure. sigh.

in conclusion, you should make keefe kiss lisa while katie stands off to the side, taking notes. it would be hella funny.

"(Am I one of the mutuals referenced in this fic? Did I write about myself? Who knows! Can't say.)" doubt it. you're not katie, alayda, or isa. that leaves lisa (i'm pretty sure you aren't her because why the fuck would she write a strieefe fic) and maddie (i guess you could be her, whoever the fuck that is).

edit: i now know who maddie is! (tagging her properly now: @queefsencen. and this is yet another reason to bring max into this world: he’s her favorite keefe hater!!!!) and i'm certain you're not her, seeing as she didn't even know what strieefe is until a little while ago. so unless you're the mysterious estella . . .

"[ . . . ] it's not like this is going to be very in-character anyway once Stria and Keefe fall in love." yeah, strieefe existing in and of itself is excruciatingly out of character for me. but whatever.

[princeescaluswords]

I need to thank you for opening my eyes to something as well as showcase reading a point of view matters, even if one doesn't realize it. The Stiles as the main character stories has flooded ao3 so much that when I started my own W.I.P I didn't even question the elimination of Scott. And even when I added him I didn't question my dismissal of him as important. Becoming a member of the Scott defense squad I see now that that is a very bad way to go. Even if the focus gets sift to Stiles as a main character it does not take away the fact that the main character is the main character and has importance. And unfortunately a trinkle down effect of reading so many stories that tell a particular story It causes the readers to have a mindset of what a character is like even if they don't realize why that character was written that way in the original piece that portrayed him that way. And even worse when they don't take in the source material it paints a picture that doesn't showcase the character in the best light. Even though I saw the source material and loved it It did not stop me from going down this route because of everything that I had read. So again I thank you, and the rest of the defense squad for opening my eyes.

Let me make things perfectly clear: there is absolutely nothing wrong with writing a Stiles-centric story. There are no ships involving Stiles that should not be written or explored. My involvement with End Racism on the OTW isn't because Stiles will never be my favorite character. It's because there is a vast majority of people who claim to be Stiles fans, Derek fans, Sterek fans, Steter fans, or fans of any other ship which involves white characters who are not actually motivated by those characters but instead by racist fury because Teen Wolf never pretended to be anything other than a story about a Latino teenager.

It's not about one story. It's about all of them together. It's about the fact that the OTW's policies for AO3 aid and abet a large part of my fandom to indulge in racist fantasies without regard to the parts of the fandom damaged by it, and they do so by hiding behind a screen of polite indifference and pearl-clutching about freedom. And from everything I've read and seen, it's not just my fandom.

Teen Wolf is simply the fandom in which I witnessed it. Look at that picture up there from Night School (1x07). It's a pretty classic horror shot, no? Now think of the majority of stories on AO3 where

Peter's murder sprees and selfishness are excused because of the fire.

Derek's terrible decision making and massive trust issues are excused because of what Kate Argent did to him.

Stiles's lies and outbursts are excused because of his mother's death and the nogitsune.

Isaac's brutality and indifference are excused because of his treatment by his father.

Yet, Scott is dismissed as 'whiny' and 'ungrateful' because he didn't immediately see being a werewolf as a positive thing. There was an untagged story yesterday which has Stiles wishing Scott would get his head out of ass and realize all that being a werewolf had done to him was cure his asthma, get a girlfriend and make first line.

What's the difference between these five characters? This isn't one story, or ten stories, or a hundred stories, but literally thousands of stories that contain these tropes.

Hey, remember when Peter literally beat Derek into submission and savaged Lydia to get Stiles to cooperate?

Remember when Derek tried to murder Lydia for something she didn't do and drive Isaac away by throwing glass at his head?

Remember when Talia Hale covered up her brother's and son's involvement in the death of a young girl and badgered a woman to carry her child to term?

Remember when Scott told Stiles that it was wrong to kill the victim of a mad scientist's experiments and lying about it and maybe he should go talk to his dad?

And yet, I can guarantee you that there is only one of those four alphas who is portrayed consistently as an obtuse tyrant. (Hint: it's not the white ones) And this isn't one story, or ten stories, or a hundred stories, but literally thousands of stories that contain these tropes.

And it's not just the lead. Let's take a look at how the fandom treats secondary characters on AO3:

Talia Hale (1 episode): 5190 stories

Laura Hale (2 episodes): 8760 stories

Jenna Geyer (mentioned once; name is fandom generated): 617

Claudia Stilinski (1 episode; impersonated for 8 episodes): 3079

Derek Hale's Father (never appeared or mentioned): 843

Noshiko Yukimura (16 episodes): 470

Ken Yukimura (20 episodes): 261

Satomi Ito (3 episodes): 284

David Geyer (5 episodes): 351

See a pattern? You should. As I said, it's not one story, it's thousands.

No one's saying that you or anyone else shouldn't write fictions that focus on Stiles or Sterek or even stories where Scott is a terrible person. It's the trends. If transformation is what AO3 and OTW tout as their purpose, and that transformation is about variety and exploration, why is it always the white characters that get the benefit of it? When it comes to transformation, why do characters of color get erased, caricatured, or robbed of their narrative roles?

Don't tell me that it isn't damaging.

Do you know how many times I've encountered a person who entered Teen Wolf fandom through AO3 and Tumblr who believed that the characters of color are either terrible (such as Scott and Deaton and Braeden) or unimportant (such as Boyd or Mason or the Yukimuras)? More than I or anyone else should be comfortable with. But this is part of the mechanism. There aren't little racism fairies that visit people in their sleep; it's not a bacterial infection; it's not the work of a secret cabal. Cultural racism is maintained by institutions, and it is transmitted by institutions, and this is one example. OTW and AO3 are two such institutions.

Thanks for writing. I'll take what you told me as a compliment.

[violivs]

NMTDaily: Football Antics Part Two

- Aww I forgot about Ursula’s friendship with Dogberry and Verges. They’re so cute. Stealing the muffins.

- I just really love how Ursula bonds with people by helping with their video blogs. And she bonds with Hero over baking. Ursula makes things and helps other people make things and that makes her happy. I love that. She’s a sweetheart.

- All this is another example of how judgmental Beatrice can be, saying the year nines are weird and Ursula shouldn’t hang out with them. She says what she’s feeling and doesn’t think first.

- Pedro! The Prince of Messina! I love the Summer Lovin moment, he really always was a theater kid. It’s very cute. It is, of course, also foreshadowing.

- Pedro immediately brings up Ben. Is he testing Bea’s reaction to see if she seems interested in Ben, similar to the way Ben is about to be all “is Pedro your boyfriend?” I see you, Pedro.

- “How’s Benedick? Still pirouetting through life?” One of my favorite little lines there, lol. It’s just life, so keep dancing through! (Speaking of being a theater kid, lol)

- “He changes friends as often as he changes shirts” is not supposed to make me so sad! Ben always being too scared to show his real self, hiding behind being the loudest and the funny one, hopping from friend to friend and never building too deep a connection with anyone because he doesn’t believe it will last. Because when it does get deep, he gets scared and pulls away. And to an outside view it just looks like he’s fickle and doesn’t care. Just so much meaning there. AND he fails to notice that he’s been Pedro’s friend for like five years now, so some of his friendships do last! Having an “I can’t keep a friendship” complex AND at least one years-long friendship you take for granted at the same time is a massive social anxiety mood. I did not develop that headcanon for him until the promo photos for Lolilo came out, but there was still evidence in NMTD!

- And Bea audibly groaning and being annoyed that Ben’s new best friend is Claudio, because she wants Hero to be happy but she does not want Ben hanging around them more.

- “You did the thing! You’ve gotta be ready for anything Claudio!” Ugh I cringe every time lol but also Ben is adorable at the same time?

- Sometimes you really need the subtitles, because I have never noticed Bea and Pedro’s little exchange there before! B: “Honestly that’s so typical.” P: “They’re always getting on top of each other.” That’s one for the Ben/Claudio crush truthers for sure, lol

- cringeeeee ugh Ben why do you sound like you’re about to hit on Hero I’m uncomfortable. Hilarious that he’s apparently forgotten who Hero is though, given that he definitely remembers Beatrice.

- He apparently also has never heard of YouTube before this moment. And we’re off to the “everything you say is SO wrong and annoying, I HAVE to correct you” races!

- Pedro with the self-preservation instinct just immediately making a run for it. He has been here in between these two arguing before and he did not like it.

- I was wondering why Bea didn’t make an excuse to avoid Ben by going off with Pedro just then, but I realized it’s because of the camera and tripod! She couldn’t leave without her stuff. Trapped by the vlog! Lol

- Ben’s immediate emotional response on seeing Bea again just being “I’m extremely threatened by the idea that you might have a boyfriend, please tell me you don’t.” like. Buddy. Pal. Who were you ever fooling? Incredible.

- And speaking of cringe. We are getting the establishment of Benedick seeming to be just another one of the misogynist guys, because every time he talks about women I cringe so hard I can’t look at the screen. I hope Beatrice makes fun of him for “I could explode your universe” literally all the time after they start dating.

- She is so not having it, and her disinterest just makes him go even harder trying to get under her skin. I love these annoying teenagers SO. MUCH. *cracks up laughing*

- Poor Ursula, not as quick as Pedro to avoid being stuck in the middle. Lol

- But the thing is, Bea just took the wind right out of Ben’s sails because “you’ve never scored anything off the football pitch” is TRUE. He talks big, but he’s actually not very experienced at all. That’s how I interpret the flustered “you’d be surprised about what I know”, anyway. And it’s a smart adaptation for a teenage version of Mr “Ladies Love Me But I Love None” from the play, if so.

- Bea sees right through him. He can’t hide behind bravado with her, she already knows it’s bullshit. And that’s why realizing he loves her is going to be so scary for him.

- And he storms off, leaving Beatrice pleased as punch because she wins by default. If she pushes his buttons long enough, he gives up. “You always end on a jade’s trick” indeed. And she ends smiling, because she likes sparring with him (and winning). The day wouldn’t be complete for her without it.

- Someone in the comments points out that Ben forgot to pick up his football uniform shirt that he dropped, and I don’t know what’s funnier, him waiting for her to leave and slinking back to grab it, or her taking it home and then tossing it on his desk the next day at school with another insult about how gross it is, setting off another argument (while all their classmates roll their eyes).

- And then there’s the fact that Beatrice, who just hates Ben so much, can’t stop herself from replying to a comment about him in the comment section with a complaining link to his new YouTube channel! They are obsessed with each other! It is wild. (Also a very in-character way for TCW to use Bea to make sure that the audience knows to follow Ben’s channel for his part of the story.)

- All I can think of is that tumblr post about looking at your enemies to lovers ship in their “I hate your stupid face” phase and cackling like “ohhhh just you wait, you are gonna LOVE that stupid face!” They’re gonna love each other SO much, and they’re gonna be SO mad about it! It just makes me so happy!!! 🥰

💖🥭🦩

[badtitude]

≡ LOVE SPELL !! LEE JEONGHYEON

(in which his cute awkward loser personality just makes you want him more ๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : 1543 words : fluff + first date : idk if this is too loser bf for jh but i genuinely do feel like he’s the loser bf of all time.

usually you would hate this type of situation, making up any dumb excuse to free yourself from the uncomfortable encounter you were experiencing, but he’s kind of… cute?

if you’re being completely honest you have no idea what he’s saying to you. you weren’t even going to listen to him in the first place but he stopped you and now he’s blushing, looking at everything except at you. you want to kindly decline whatever he is trying to advertise and go about your day but his soft smile is keeping you stuck on his face.

“could i get your number maybe?” he clears his throat sharply, and his eyes finally land on yours. maybe because he’s towering over you, but his gaze almost seems intense, it catches you off guard making you subconsciously look away.

“sure.” you reach out your hand for him to hand you his phone and he does, watching you type in your details before handing him back the phone.

the second he takes it from your hand you flash a small smile at him excusing yourself, you notice his lips curve up as he sees your smile, followed by a quiet “bye”.

you would go on with your day expecting nothing more from the encounter, accepting it as the small highlight of the day and ready to move on to other things but it wasn’t that simple.

[9:45 pm]

unknown: hey, we met earlier tbh i wanted to ask you out but you seemed in a hurry so i didn’t but i thought i’d just try again, my name’s jeonghyeon btw

the text lights up your phone on your desk as you studied, you’re able to ignore it for a couple minutes before grabbing to check what it was. your eyebrows furrow in utter confusion as you read the text. your first thought is “how did he get my number?”, because while you did type a number into his phone you were confident it wasn’t yours, you never give out your number so easily.

you look at the text again trying to remember what exactly had happened, the way things look you may have typed your actual number mindlessly, consequently putting yourself in this position.

maybe it isn’t such a bad situation, he seemed nice, and he was your type but that was never the issue. you set rules for yourself because of past experiences, it is easy getting tangled but what comes after is never what you expect.

you stare at the text, a million thoughts of the multitude of possibilities run through your mind then you hit send.

[9:50 pm]

y/n: where are you taking me?

jeonghyeon: oh you’re actually interested?

jeonghyeon: it’ll be a surprise but i promise you’ll enjoy it.

you set your phone down trying to push down the slight curve at the corner of your lips, you don’t feel like thinking of what could happen. you read something earlier in the week about trusting the universe, and all these coincidences seem so conveniently placed.

he tells you the details for your upcoming date and you can barely hide your excitement as you stare at the little bubbles of text forming on the screen. you had been trying to keep this feeling away because of how well you knew it and how easily it could come crashing down but you didn’t want to give up on it just yet.

something about his own uncertainty, slight hesitations, obvious inexperience throughout the conversation makes talking to him feel so comfortable, you feel so drawn to everything he is.

before you know it you’re meeting him again, leaving all the unfamiliar texting behind. he made sure to keep the details of the date a secret in the few texts you shared, occasionally asking about your interests in the least discreet ways. you can’t hide your eagerness, neither can you ignore the lump forming at your throat as the time approaches, you want to be right about trusting him.

a light buzz in your hand notifies you of his presence, you make your way out of your housing complex, glancing around for his familiar face.

he spots you first right at the entrance of your building, eyes down on your phone before taking a look around. a soft tap on the shoulder, and you turn around to his soft smile that had you hooked the first time you met.

“hi.” he breathes out, his smile growing as he glances away for a second. you could feel your doubts melt away at the sight.

“hi.” you smile back.

“i didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so i got you this instead.” he says handing you a lollipop, you stare at the small stick in his hand for a second genuinely amused by his train of thought.

“thanks” you reach for the small snack, your fingers slightly grazing his fist as you do. you look up at him confused he’s still holding onto the sweet.

“can i hold your hand?” he asks softly as his fingers gently wrap around yours, you blink at him completely taken aback.

“sure.”

he finally lets you take the candy out of his hand, watching you put it away, ready to take your hand in his once it is free again.

the whole walk feels so dreamlike, you don’t remember the last time you had held hands with someone and you could feel your heart thundering in your chest. with every glance he makes in your direction, every smile that is a result of something you did or said, you feel your self physically and emotionally drawn to him.

it’s an odd feeling after experiencing so much heartbreak, because you start to question if anyone of those experiences had even begun with this great feeling. and suddenly it feels like you had been running away from something you never even felt.

“you like video games right?”

you nod eagerly looking at the array of vintage video games spread across the store, lights flashing all around as you walk through the arcade together.

“how did you even know? did i tell you?” you look up at him curiously stopping in your tracks.

“i like you, of course i’ll pay attention to the things you like.” he chuckles, you notice his hand reach for your head as if to pat you gently but instead he takes it back to rub the back of his neck.

“what was that?” you laugh, your hand over your mouth, as you watch him groan into his hands out of embarrassment.

gradually you start testing out the games together, going up against each other on 1 v 1 games where you win most of the time. you go from playing street fighter against 13 year olds and proudly making them loose to playing zombie games in a booth together.

he listens as you blabber about your experience with video games, you tell him all the boring stuff that you had learnt because of your strong interest. not for a second does he seem uninterested, you glance over at him and your eyes meet. you wonder in that second if it’s reasonable to feel this many butterflies on a first date. he tilts his head confused by your sudden stare, and now you’re the one shying away from his gaze.

after the arcade, you head to a fast restaurant close by to find something to clench the appetite. you find a booth and sit opposite each other, with a quick scan through the menu you’ve made your choices.

“you’re honestly not bad at games. be honest did you practice before?” he lets out a light chuckle in disbelief, the smile lingers as his gaze shifts away.

“i didn’t but i wish i did.” you giggle quietly, he watches your eyelids close curving the same way as your smile. he tries to catch it each time because of how genuine your smile is, he can’t help smiling at the sight of it.

the first thing he’d noticed the first time he saw you was that smile, though you shared it with someone else it was still a precious sight. from then on he kept noticing you and he would have kept the distance but he noticed your smile wearing off.

hallway crushes are fun when they stay as that, just hallway interactions, but he missed seeing you laugh, smile, giggle. so he took it upon himself to make it happen, even though he knew nothing about you. he wanted to know so he could be the one to make you smile.

“i feel like you’re not listening to me.” you pick a piece of his fries slightly annoyed by his silence during your rant about soggy fries.

“yeah sorry your angelic beauty is so distracting.” you stare at him in disbelief, searching for words to say but nothing comes to mind. he lets out a deep sigh, realizing how corny he sounded, making you burst out laughing head against the table.

“thanks.” his face brightens up at the sound of those words, “the compliment was sweet but i meant for today, i had a really nice time with you.”

“we can totally continue to have nice times together… if you want that.”

[beevean]

You know what the Belmont's treatment reminds me of?

Samus in Other M

That game wanted so bad to depict Samus as someone with depth, someone who has feelings and enotions and trauma and can cry etc. But the end result had her do jack all in the actual story and for her to be denigrated by other characters who were shown to be more competent.

Except that with Sakamoto I can believe that he genuinely wanted to do Samus justice but went overboard with the weakness aspect because he had his head way too far up his own head

While with NFCV you cannot tell me that the writers don't know that the Belmonts (or others) being treated as sad tragic little meow meows who get treated like shit and need to be rescued/corrected often. These guys are on social media, they are literally part of the fandom and take part in discourse occasionally, so I can't believe they aren't doing this on purpose. Maybe Deats himself doesn't wish for this effect but someone must because it's far too consistent and convenient

... forgive me for what I'm about to say.

Samus in OM is atrocious and we all know that, right? Yes, she has those small cool moments in cutscenes as a token of respect for her skills, but overall she's weak, she's ineffectual, she won't stop praising a man who by all means acts cold and spiteful towards her, she's pretty much forbidden to do anything of substance in the plot, we see this gratuitous sequence of her writhing on the floor in pain after being shot that is nearly fetishistic...

... but the characters respect her.

Well, Adam doesn't, or at the very least, he doesn't respect her as she deserves. But the others? They know who Samus Motherfucking Aran is. Anthony is very friendly towards her. The scientists trusts her. Is it enough? Of course not. But somehow, some fucking how, Trevor and from what I've seen Ricther slip even lower than that level, because they're insulted and laughed at left and right, by their own friends most of all.

I genuinely felt sorry for Trevor who was pushed aside in his own story in favor of Fanservice Central Alucard and Muh Deepness Isaac, and when he was on screen the story beat us over the head that he's a washed up alcoholic who swears left and right and yeah he lost his family but they were weirdos anyway. Richter has a more pleasant personality from what I've seen, but apparently Annette steals the show as expected, the same person who looks down on him and gets away with calling him "useless as fuck", and he doesn't really do anything of substance either.

Oh, and what about Juste? Oh yeah I ain't forgotten about him. Juste, who became yet another Trevor, another jaded bastard after the loss of his family, who can't use his magic anymore, who is a prick to Richter who is a prick to him in return, who can't even help him unlock his magic - no, the memory of Annette does it.

Oh, and do you remember how Dracula recognized Trevor as a Belmont because he threw ineffectual punches at him? How he recognized the power of the Morning Star... who didn't even scratch him? How this sends the implication that the Belmonts kept fighting Dracula... and lost to him? The complete reversal of the games, where the only Belmont who didn't manage to kill Dracula at first was Christopher and anyway he tried again some time later?

Leon so far is the Belmont that came out of it the most unscathed, and even he was reduced to the level of "random crusader who decided to fight Dracula for shit and giggles"

So no. There is an undeniable pattern here. Deats can hide behind the excuses he wants, but again: whoever thought that promoting the show by using Annette's line was a good idea... well, they had to draw that conclusion from somewhere.

also fuck you nocturne for pushing me to say one (1) decent thing about om that other piece of shit game. goddamnit

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Find the Words!

Thank you @anincompletelist and @theprinceandagcd for two tags in this game!

*cracks knuckles* Let's see what my WIPs have, shall we?

My words are: make, hide, square, edge, atmosphere

AND

hope, smooth, skin, water, paper

After the cut for length and suggestibility (on a couple)

Word: make WIP: Henry hurt/comfort

“I think,” Alex starts, wondering if this is one of those moments that his mom meant about flying too close to the sun before he realizes that no, being in this car and leaving this way is. So he quickly adjusts course, “I’d like to go back. To make sure Henry’s okay.”

Word: hide WIP: A deleted scene from Take Your Time

You’re the sun. Shining your warmth down on the icy waters. Bringing an end to the darkness. But also shedding light on the destruction that has been wrought. I strayed from the light for so long because I feared what I would see when I could no longer hide behind the excuse of blindness to the truth of my own existence. Cold-hearted. Turning back all who venture near out of fear. And now I realize precisely what that all means. I’m not the unsinkable ship. I’m the iceberg.

Word: square WIP: None of the above, I'm afraid haha

Word: edge WIP: The Notebook AU

“What the fuck is all this security doing here?” Alex asks as June blows a kiss to Nora that she catches and apparently uses as some sort of secret fuel for her bumper car, jettisoning it head-on into the wall and screaming as she does it. He glances at the surrounding perimeter along the edge of the carnival, security guards in suits with earpieces like something straight out of a spy movie standing unmoving nearby.

Word: atmosphere WIP: Also none of the above!

Word: hope WIP: DNC fill-in-the-blanks

It remains even after collapsing, physically and mentally spent, into sheets that are not his own, and sliding his own calloused fingers over his bare skin in the desperate hope that the memory of Henry’s soft fingers playing a muted melody over his ribs might come back to him. It lingers despite the sight of Henry’s face, pixelated and blurry in the dark of the night on his phone screen, enough to make him come with just a few strokes of his hand at the tenor of Henry’s voice. It hums through his body, until he has no choice but to seek refuge against the closest nearby structure to regain his composure, for every single second that all six of the senses he was blessed with aren’t filled with Henry.

Word: smooth WIP: Lake house 5+1

The sun is just beginning to start its descent to the horizon for its well earned slumber after another perfectly dazzling summer day spent bringing new freckles to life as previously undiscovered landmarks on a map of soft, smooth skin, dancing in narrowed blue eyes rarely unhidden from behind dark glasses, and bleaching already golden hair to a resplendent color unnamed by nature. Alex lounges on the hammock, drifting somewhere in that blissful heaven between sleep and waking, when you can feel the breeze on your skin as your subconscious slowly concocts the perfect dream of long legs and nimble fingers and effervescent laughter. Henry lies beside him, his sun kissed skin warm against Alex’s leg, an anchor to the consciousness he can slowly feel slipping away with each passing moment.

Word: skin WIP: Drunk Me

But privately, he wondered if he’d ever have the chance to meet the boy who he so deeply admired for his ability to exist entirely beneath the world’s spotlight without so much as a flinch to indicate that it ever made him uncomfortable. Alex, on the other hand, had taken to pressing his lips to the key around his neck before each public appearance, a grounding technique that reminded him he always had a quiet home to return to when all was said and done. Henry, on the other hand, had nothing but palaces behind wrought iron gates. He hoped maybe someday they could be friends, and maybe he could even show Henry where he grew up. The Texas sun on his skin would definitely be warmer than the glow of ancient chandeliers.

Word: water WIP: Alex's bedroom canon divergence (movieverse)

He smirks at that thought. At Henry, standing in a steaming shower, with water dripping from his golden hair and collecting in dewdrops on his eyelashes, the suds from whatever expensive body wash he uses that keeps him smelling like clean linens and fresh grass even in the dead of winter sliding over his bare skin to reveal 10 small purple bruises in the shape of Alex’s fingertips. A part of Alex he won’t be able to wash away as easily as buttercream melts and slips down a drain.

Word: paper WIP: NYE Get Low Alex POV (movieverse)

“I’d be a writer…live in Paris,” Henry explains, and it suddenly makes so much sense. Like a piece of a puzzle sliding perfectly into place and revealing an entirely new image. Alex can see Henry, the same Henry who waxes poetic about Byron’s poetry for as long as Alex will tolerate and then some, sitting inside a coffee shop in Paris with a stack of paper and a pen, scribbling furiously, his eyes bright and alive with the same passion Alex can sense when he speaks of the work of other famous writers. Alex can’t help but smile at the thought.

I'm going to make this an OPEN tag, because I know a lot of people have already been tagged, and I don't want y'all to feel overwhelmed by all the words! @kiwiana-writes as the person I know with the most WIP options, you know you're always open to do this...but only if you want!

The words the random generator came up with are: proud, ceaseless, worried, dark, and pointless.

[tumblingxelian]

I'll address both of you her, I hope that's cool, @chaoticevilspacewitch.

As someone who has also grappled with depression and had some experience in, let's say complicated but traumatic circumstances I do grasp the intent behind your respective points. I do apologize if my statements came off as dismissive of trauma induced disability.

However, I completely disagree with your respective reads on Tai, at least insomuch as it excusing everything, or his actions as a parent overall not qualifying as abusive by virtue of sheer negligence.

Off the cuff my first reason is that Tai himself has made his stance on trauma, depression and other mental health matters influencing one's abilities quite clear:

Tai does not consider trauma a valid excuse and while I do, this does color my perspective on his character.

What's more, Tai was able to recover sufficiently from his trauma and shutting down period to hold down a job, maintain a garden and happily socialize. He did everything someone not grappling with debilitating depression and trauma could except parent, meaning one of two things.

1: His trauma tied into parenthood to one degree of another and so it only impacted his ability to parent. In which case he was still irresponsible for not seeking out resources to compensate for this. He has to be held responsible for his own decision making at some point.

2: He was no longer so debilitated that he couldn't be a parent and instead just chose not to, which I think is more accurate given his behavior and attitudes on screen.

Let's not forget his generally callous treatment of Yang that was built largely around ignoring her struggles and trying to pressure her back into the field.

Let's not forget the fact she only laughed off his "joke" when Oobleck dropped his cup and reminded her that people could see them.

Let's not forget he openly admitted to hiding information from Yang about Raven despite the danger she placed herself in to get answers because discussing her made him uncomfortable.

Let's not forget that despite blaming Yang for being the reason he wasn't going after Ruby, the moment he could pawn off the job of protecting her to Yang he did so.

His negligence that nearly got them killed as a 3 nd 5 year old was something one could blame on his depression. But it was still irresponsible, because he had the energy to leave the house and do other tasks, but not book a babysitter?

One could say his mind was not in the right head-space, I could accept that as a potential headcanon/interpretation, but regardless of circumstances, it did still almost get the children under his care killed.

Tai has to be held responsible for his own decision making at some point.

What's more, this consideration for depression that I too had always extended to Tai up until volume 4 gave us insight into his "parenting" only applies for so long.

As said, he has a job, he has some form of social life, a garden, he even goes on trips and has been doing these things for years. Whatever he might have been or is still grappling with did not disable him from all these other responsibilities and indulgences.

Meaning him not parenting or being unable to parent, and refusing to (for example) call in help to take care of the girls, or seek help to overcome this particular hurt, is something he was making an active choice to not do.

So far nothing in the narrative or themes of the show indicate Tai was perpetually unable.

Plus, one of the main themes of the series is the younger generation being failed by the older one. Thus, I doubt that the writers would be crafting a neglectful and abusive situation only to cap it off like that.

Now, as to whether its abusive, sorry but it is.

Parentification is abusive, neglect to the point of endangerment is abusive, it does not need to be malicious to be abusive. Many abusers do not realize they even are abusers or that what they do is not the norm. What matters is not their perspective, but the harm that they do.

Suffice to say, the level of neglect necessary that both kids say the only two years older sister raised her younger sibling is significant and will have left permanent scars on both Yang & Ruby.

I'm sorry if this comes off as harsh, I am simply trying to be clear cut and effective in my communication.

This is not be going on a diatribe's against others who have also been debilitated by depression and other trauma. But instead to highlight a characters actions for whom I do not feel that explanation works.

The next verse the same as the first because defenses I’ve seen for Tai have been very poor and they pretty much all say the same thing. 

“He loves his daughters, so Yang’s neglect and parentification can’t have been abusive.”

Like, no sorry, that’s exactly what it was, you can love someone till the moon and back and genuinely not mean them any harm and still do incredible harm. Speaking from personal experience it doesn’t have to have been intentional to have been abusive, just like Parentification.

I would also note that Willow Schnee certainly doesn’t get any “She loves her kids” considerations for her neglect, which is the exact same type of abuse Tai put Yang and Ruby through regardless of whether he meant to or not.

Tai can love his daughters and still have done harm to them and frankly I think its rather important to remember that abuse comes in many forms and from many types of people, not all of them someone whose consciously trying to do harm.

So yeah, neglecting your children to the point where the eldest has to take on the duties of raising the younger one and keeping the family together? An abusive situation no matter how much love is there, cos love isn’t the same thing as actually parenting.

Oh and the other excuse is “He was grieving, be nice” and like, grief isn’t an excuse, Tai doesn’t consider it an excuse, dismissing Yang’s trauma & depression as moping. Only promising to give Yang support when she stops doing it. Oh and for all the ‘Tai was grieving’ defenses, so were his two very young children! 

[innovativestruggles]

To my lovely beautiful DaiSuzu fans,

I recently received a very rude ask from a toxic Daiharu fan telling me how all DaiSuzu shippers are “disgusting” and “gross” for shipping relatives, and how they “can’t stand straight people and their need to always force heterosexual ships,” especially in relation to “Daisuke and Suzue who clearly do not have mutual feelings for each other.”

Not only do I find this incredibly offensive but I see it as extremely discriminative as well. This goes far beyond the realm of shipping and enjoying anime content and debates. It is a deliberate and personal attack on DaiSuzu shippers and the real people behind the screen. 

This person’s behaviour is absolutely repulsive and completely hypocritical. To group people in the same bracket as gross and disgusting just for shipping characters is beyond belief.

I have chosen not to publicly post the ask because I will not be spreading negative content. And I know it is probably what this troll wants. I want to let this person know that their behaviour is abusive, disrespectful and NOT okay.

I am already seeing an escalation of abuse towards Suzue and DaiSuzu shippers post-Episode 8. I am disgusted with how this fandom operates and its treatment towards other fans and women in general (fiction or not!). Because as soon as there is some sort of intimacy between heterosexual couples (re; Daisuke and Suzue), toxic fans feel the need to express their anger and frustration on DaiSuzu shippers who are happily minding their own business.

Keep your bloody opinions to yourself. We do not want to hear it. I am appalled by this vile behaviour and I can see why some fans have dropped the show completely. It’s because they do not feel safe expressing their opinions and their ships and their love for their characters. You toxic daiharu shippers need to take a closer look at yourself and how your abusive behaviour impacts on others.

I have already posted my own reason as to why I ship Daizue. Do you think us DaiSuzu shippers would just waltz out there and decide to condone incest? Ffs! Our reasoning behind our shipping of DaiSuzu is much more complex than you deciding to ship two male characters who breathe the same air.

To the novel readers who are invested in Daizue’s relationship. I am so sorry that you feel misunderstood and berated by toxic anime fans. I am sorry that they undermine your interest in both the novel and the anime. You have the rights to ship Daizue in the novel as much as in the anime, and feel frustrated that the anime screwed up Suzue’s relationship status to Daisuke. You also have the rights to feel unsettled and confused and unsure and still wanting to ship Daizue in the anime without having toxic fans accuse you of shipping incest. It is confusing as both a novel reader and an anime watcher and I completely understand the limbo position you are stuck in when it comes to DaiSuzu.

But please remember this. Those toxic daiharu fans are responsible for their own actions, and it is not any of us DaiSuzu shippers’ fault for wanting to enjoy the anime and ship these two beautiful characters. 

Daizue’s relationship status at this stage is still unknown. The anime creators have propositioned intimacy/romance between Daisuke and Suzue from the OP. It is clear as day. Any non-anime watcher who looks at that OP of Daizue would immediately think romance. So if that is what the anime creators are bringing across to fans then there is even more of a reason not to be embedded with feelings of guilt for shipping them.

I say this once more. Our little group of DaiSuzu shippers may be small, but we will not stand for abuse of fans or of Suzue. Suzue may be a fictional character, but the fact that she is hated because she is female and because she is a threat to daiharu, is internalised misogyny at its finest. Considering the vast majority of toxic daiharu shippers are women themselves, it is atrocious that you even think along the lines of condoning violence against women. And just because it is a fictional female character, it does not excuse you from being misogynistic. It spills over into your own perception and values of women and girls in the real world. Please be mindful of how you portray yourself to others online with regards to hating female characters - because that is an extension of who you are as a person.

Anyways, my precious DaiSuzu shippers, thank you for being so supportive! We are a great community amongst such a toxic fandom. We all keep each other going with our love for Daisuke and Suzue! 

Rest assured that novel Daisuke and Suzue are very happy to hear that we ship them because that was how their relationship was made - for each other ❤️❤️

Yours sincerely,

A novel reader, an anime watcher and a frustrated DaiSuzu shipper